Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!
What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)
But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...
(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)
-🍰
Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst
Word Count - 3.1k
A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.
And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”.
How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.
The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?
Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.
To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.
But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.
“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch.
Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.
“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person.
“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure.
“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s.
The two shake on it, and the bet is made.
But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you.
And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.
For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.
Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.
< … >
“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair.
You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.
“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.”
Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.
“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.
“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest.
“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.”
You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him.
“Yes please!”
< … >
“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.
Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.
“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.”
“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses.
“So then why the sudden comment?”
“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.
He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you?
Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.
“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true.
“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms.
He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him.
“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.
“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.
“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.
He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face.
“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.
“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.
Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.
“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball.
“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.
“Sure it won’t.”
< … >
Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you?
READ
Satoru?
READ
I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here!
DELIVERED
Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.
You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.
Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste.
< … >
“Sato—“
You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.
“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.
Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.
“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.
“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now.
“Tired?”
“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.
You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves.
Had he felt that way about you the whole time?
“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.
“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.
Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.
Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.
"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.
"We're fucked."
< ... >
"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--"
"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.
She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window.
Not that there was much respect there in the first place.
"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.
"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)."
You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.
You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you?
"Hey."
You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.
She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.
"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.
"Can we stay in instead?"
Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.
"Yeah, of course we can."
< ... >
"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.
He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.
Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.
"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.
"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage.
Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out?
"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?"
"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.
"I don't--"
"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.
His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.
She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.
"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up.
< ... >
Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.
In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.
"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--"
You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.
And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.
In which you feel as though the JJK men are with you only for sex.
Requested? - Yes / No
Includes - Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Ino, Toji, Shiu, Sukuna, Choso
TOJI who comes home late from work to a silent house. All of the lights in the house are off, the only source of illumination being the flickering screen of the television, and even that is stuck on a multicolored SOURCE UNKNOWN screen.
“Baby? Y’in here?” he calls out to the empty living room, eyebrows furrowing in a mixture of confusion and concern as he toes off his shoes.
He continues through the silent apartment, dutifully checking each room before finally standing in the doorframe of the master bedroom. Against his better judgement, Toji’s lips turn upward at the sight that lies in front of him.
Toji approaches the bed, sitting at its edge and being careful to not accidentally crush your legs underneath the weight of his body.
You look so peaceful wrapped up in the sheets of your shared bed, lips parted in gentle breaths with that tiny line of drool trickling down from the corner of your mouth.
He reaches a finger out, stroking the back of it against your cheek and grinning to himself as you subconsciously move closer to the warmth radiating from his skin.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmurs, lowering himself to lay across from you. He opens his arms, scooping you into them and tucking your head into the crook of his neck.
You hum sleepily against his skin, eyes fluttering open as your arms wind around his midsection, followed then by your legs tangling with his own.
“Hi baby,” you murmur, bleary eyes blinking up at him as he cranes his neck to gaze down at you.
“Hey,” he mutters, laying a kiss against your forehead and grinning to himself as you snuggle closer to him. “Sleepy?”
“Mhm. Tried t’wait up.”
His chest warms at your words, arms momentarily squeezing you. He’d never admit it to anyone — he’d rather die than say it aloud … but you made him so incredibly soft.
Only you. Only you.
JJK SMAU Requests!!
Hey everyone, I understand it’s been a very long time since I’ve uploaded a piece to this blog. But I thought I should try my hand at SMAUs, considering that they don’t take nearly as much time as writing and editing a full piece (for me anyway).
If you’d like, you can leave a request for any kind of SMAU that you’d like to see, I’m open to any and all suggestions.
- colonelarr0w
jjk megumi pinning us to a wall and drunk confessing!!!!
#loveyou!!
Sypnosis - Read above request.
Warning(s) - None besides alcohol consumption.
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
"Itadori! Have you seen Fushiguro around? I've been looking for him," you say worriedly, silently grabbing onto Itadori's arm and lightly tugging him closer to you, your lips ghosting over his ear so that he could hear you clearly over the too-loud music.
The pink-haired male turns to you, eyes narrowing before his gaze quickly flicks over the entirety of the room – a silent search for the unaccounted for Fushiguro. He shakes his head, his eyes returning to you, irises softening at the worried look that passes over your face.
"I haven't. But the last I saw of him, he was at the bar getting himself and Kugisaki something to drink," Itadori admits, frowning as you release his arm, turning your body halfway so that you can get a better look at the bar.
You smile at him in thanks before weaving your way through the crowd, muttering out "excuse me's" and "pardon me's" as you walk to the bar, leaning against it and peering around in search of Fushiguro, hoping that maybe you had just overlooked him by accident.
But the bar is occupied by random people that you don't know, none of them are Fushiguro. An exasperated sigh leaves your parted lips as you turn from the bar, leaning your back against it and scanning the dance floor.
In the center is Kugisaki, hand-in-hand with Maki and dancing to the upbeat music played by the DJ, who occasionally yells into his microphone to keep the club in full swing. Your lips turn upward in a smile as you continue to allow your gaze to wander about the club.
Finally, you spot that familiar tuft of jet-black hair halfway across the club, haphazardly holding onto a half-empty glass and leaning against one of the booths – one occupied by Yuuta and Inumaki. You find yourself smiling, making your way through the crowd and approaching the booth.
"Fushiguro!" You lift a hand to wave as you move closer to the booth, not failing to notice the gentle pink hue that coats Fushiguro's cheeks – it makes you wonder just how much he had to drink. You hadn't expected him to drink so much, especially considering that he had warned both Itadori and Kugisaki to "take it easy" before any of the four of you had stepped into the club.
He turns to you, stumbling on his feet and placing down the glass that he had been holding, not caring about the high-pitched clink that it makes from how roughly he had set it down. "(Y/N)?"
You giggle lightly, catching him as he walks over to you, hands on his arms to steady him. His eyes flicker up to meet your own, narrowing in order to decipher just who you were before his lips purse. You lift your hand, brushing away a few strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead.
"Yeah, it's me. Why don't we get you some water?" you offer, steering Fushiguro to sit across from Inumaki, then looking around for a waiter who could give you the water that Fushiguro definitely needs.
The raven-haired man shakes his head, fingers clasping around your wrist and tugging you clumsily to the dance floor. You follow, allowing yourself to be dragged around by Fushiguro, though you're definitely confused by his spike in boldness.
"C'mon," Fushiguro mumbles, his voice completely drowned out by the booming music playing over the club's many speakers. Your eyes narrow in confusion as Fushiguro stops just at the edge of the dance floor – located near the back of the club itself.
You tilt your head curiously at Fushiguro, his hands now settled on your hips, fingers lightly squeezing you. Your cheeks flush, shocked at the sudden contact — Fushiguro had never been this direct with anyone let alone you for that matter.
“Megumi?” you inquire, glancing down at the pale hands that hold onto your waist as if you would vanish into thin air should his grip loosen. “Are you okay?”
“M’fine,” he slurs, swallowing the growing lump in his throat as his head drops to the junction between your collarbone and shoulder. “Jus’ wanna be near you.”
You flush from head to toe, feeling your entire body light aflame as Fushiguro pulls you impossibly closer, his grip only tightening around you. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears, pulsating in a way that is borderline uncomfortable.
“Here, let’s go outside,” you say quietly, linking your fingers with Fushiguro’s and leading him to the back entrance of the bar. You push the door open, sighing thankfully as the cold night air licks at your skin like an excited dog — contrasting greatly with the stuffiness inside the bar itself.
Slowly, you lower Fushiguro to sit on one of the small wooden chairs that the bouncer must’ve left outside. You sit down cross-legged on the chair beside Fushiguro, bravely leaning your head against his leg as he remains quiet, simply staring out at the busy road that the back of the bar faces.
“I love you y’know,” Fushiguro says bluntly, not reacting even as you swivel to face him, a look of shock passing over your face at his blatant confession. You stare silently at him, wanting to see if he would continue without you prompting conversation — and continue he does.
“Jus’ everything about you; your smile, your eyes, your demeanor, everything,” Fushiguro finally turns to look at you, staring silently into your awestruck eyes. Your lips tremble, struggling to decide whether they should turn upward in a smile or downward into a frown (likely because you thought that Fushiguro was bullshitting you).
“And I want you to be mine (Y/N). And I want to … to be yours,” Fushiguro says, reaching a hand over and lacing his fingers with your own, squeezing. “Please.”
Chuckling gently, you return the affectionate squeeze of his fingers, leaning up and pressing a fleeting kiss to Fushiguro’s cheek. He stills, watching as you rest back on your legs, keeping your gaze locked with his own.
“Let’s sleep on it, then we’ll talk, yeah?”
Fushiguro nods, closing his eyes and smiling at the lingering warmth that your lips left behind. “Yeah … okay.”
Hey hi hemlo
Love your writing style so much, that asshole Gojo fic made my heart squeeze like you wouldn't believe
Can I make a request?
A foreign Jujutsu Tech teacher/sorcerer struggling to do paperwork in Japanese. Satoru and/or Suguru try to help, but end up a distraction instead lol
Sypnosis - Working is already grueling enough, made worse only by the human-sized distractions that are ... the loves of your life.
Warning(s) - None, this is really just pure fluff.
A/N - This really just spiraled into Gojo being an absolute distraction, but I hope y'all enjoy nonetheless!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
"There she is!"
"Satoru … restrain yourself, even if it's just for a second."
With a smile already curling the corners of your mouth upward, you turn your head to your classroom door – which had been swung open by Gojo, a wide smile already plastered onto his face. Not too far behind him was Geto, whose apologetic eyes flicker to you and whose lips quirk upward in an equally as apologetic smile.
You say nothing as Gojo enters your classroom, beelining to where you sit behind your desk and wrapping his arms around you. His chin lowers to rest against the top of your head, a content hum rumbling in his throat when you lean back in his arms.
“Hello sweet girl,” Gojo says with a wide smile, tilting his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You hum, then turning your head to watch Geto as he approaches.
“Hi. What brings you both around here?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, turning in your seat to get a better look at Gojo. He peers over your shoulder, glancing at the unfinished paperwork that you had been tending to for the better part of two hours.
Geto leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and sneaking a glance at your paperwork. “Hi honey, we just wanted to check in on you.”
You smile, accepting the kiss that Gojo leans in to steal from you, his hands holding either side of your face as his lips curl into a boyish grin against your own.
Geto rolls his eyes, reaching out to grip the collar of Gojo’s shirt and lightly prying him away from you; though he couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest at both of his lovers doting on one another.
“That’s sweet of you both, but don’t you have physical training with your students today?” you tilt your head, remembering how Gojo was supposed to tend to the first-years and Geto the second-years.
At the mention of fulfilling his teacher duties, Gojo groans childishly, hanging his head so that his forehead hits against your shoulder. His back arches uncomfortably, but his discomfort is lessened by the sound of your sweet laugh.
“I let them have a small break, I couldn’t let Satoru run rampant,” Geto replies teasingly, grinning down at you. You set down the pen in your hand, lifting a hand to Gojo’s hair and scratching at his scalp — which he doesn’t hesitate to purr at.
“Not true!” Gojo murmurs against your shoulder, removing his head from your shirt and turning to glance at Geto with a dramatic pout, bottom lip jutted out like a child who had been denied a snack before dinner.
"It's entirely true love," you nod in agreement, chuckling breathily to yourself. Gojo huffs, this time completely disconnecting from you and taking a step away from your desk. He crosses his arms over his chest, still pouting.
"You're both just so mean to me, and for no reason," he complains loudly, borderline stomping his foot against the ground as his gaze flickers between you and Geto. You turn to your raven-haired lover, both of you sharing a knowing smile just as Gojo grows annoyed with being ignored.
Geto once again sneaks a glance at the paperwork scattered about your desk; ranging from mission logs given to you by Ijichi to student papers that you had procrastinated grading. His eyebrows furrow at the notes that you had scrawled into the paper's margins, but he doesn't bring any attention to it.
"It's not being mean 'toru," you try to reason with your childish lover, but he merely presses his palms against his ears and hums obnoxiously. You sigh in exasperation, rubbing your temples before turning to Geto – your only saving Grace.
Geto chuckles, catching Gojo as he dramatically falls into the former's arms, head knocking against Geto's broad shoulder.
"Come now, you know she didn't mean it that way," Geto says, voice shaking as he struggles to hold back the chuckle that rises in his throat. "There isn't any reason for you to be this dramatic."
It's your turn to chuckle now, the noise making both men smile lovingly at you. You half lean over your desk, arms covering your now abandoned paperwork as you turn your attention to both Gojo and Geto.
"He's right, I don't mind that you both came to visit me," you say truthfully, lips still curled upward in that smile that your lovers could spend hours admiring. "I appreciate it actually."
Gojo immediately disconnects himself from Geto's arms, beelining for you once again and wrapping you up in a bone-crushing embrace. You laugh heartily in his arms, squealing as he effortlessly lifts you from where you sit behind your desk.
"'toru! I have work to do!" Your plea to return to working goes completely ignored by the snowy-haired man, who only tightens his grip around you and proceeds to spin you around. Geto joins in on the laughter, his chest warm and his eyes crinkled in a loving smile.
Even with your complaining, and even with your pleading, you truly do love the distractions provided by not just one … but both of the loves of your life.
In which you don’t tell the JJK men that you’re injured.
Requested? : Yes / No
Includes : Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Ino, Toji, Shiu, Sukuna, Megumi, Choso, Itadori
Feel free to leave requests for future SMAUs!
“Baby? It’s late, what are you still doing up?” Suguru asks drowsily from the doorframe that connects your bedroom to the kitchen. He lifts a hand to his eyes, flicking away the last bits of sleep that still cling desperately to his eyelashes.
You turn to face him with a smile, patterned oven mitt covering one of your hands. In your hand is a steaming tray of cookies, snickerdoodle to be specific. “Well it was supposed to be a surprise, but I made you cookies.”
Suguru’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion as he walks into the kitchen, glancing curiously at the tray that you lay out over the stovetop, then removing the oven mitt and opening your arms to him. He steps easily into them, wrapping his broad arms around your waist and allowing you to tuck your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.
“What’d you make me cookies for?” he inquires curiously, tilting his head at you as you step back from his embrace, then folding your hands behind your back. Your lips curl upward in a soft smile, one that he mirrors almost immediately after seeing your own. He couldn’t help it — you always looked so soft around him.
You bite your lip in thought for a moment, shuffling on your feet as your eyes flick to the still cooling cookies. Suguru watches you intently, still slightly confused.
“Well…I overheard you talking with Satoru yesterday — you were complaining that the Curses you consume leave a sour taste in your mouth,” you begin, fiddling with your fingers as your gaze momentarily leaves Suguru. Your nails pick at a hangnail, but you don’t tug on it hard enough to remove it.
“I thought that maybe making something sweet would — you know — get rid of the taste for a little bit.”
Suguru softens, his lips turning upward in a smile as he reaches his fingers out, tilting your head so that your gaze finally meets his own. He leans down, pecking your forehead softly.
“Thank you,” he whispers, bringing his forehead down so that it connects with your own. You smile, placing your hand against the one that he has resting on your cheek, stroking a finger over the backs of his knuckles.
“I love you Suguru.”
“I love you more, sweet girl.”
I feel like Geto would mesh really well with a !Non-Affectionate partner.
Personally, I don’t see Geto as the biggest cuddle bug or being the biggest fan of PDA. I feel like his love languages fall more in line with quality time and gift giving. That doesn’t mean that he despises physical affection or anything of that sort — I just feel like he would rather use other methods in order to display his undying love for you.
Hey 💕 Can I request story about Sukuna being all soft and gentle with reader? 😩 Like soft morning with him, waking up together, and make out session or some gentle sex with a lot of praise. I love domestic Sukuna I’m sorry 😔
Sypnosis - Read above request.
Warning(s) - None!
A/N - Damn maybe I do like writing for Sukuna (I've been his #1 hater since season 1 of JJK dropped).
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
Biting back the sleepy groan that climbs up your throat, you open your bleary eyes to peek at the sunlight that filters in through your bedroom's thin curtains. You shift lightly only to be stopped by someone's arms tightening around your waist, further rooting you to your place in bed – Sukuna.
How ironic that the King of Curses would be a stage-five clinger come the morning sun. But of course, nobody would ever believe you if that admittance fell from your lips. And it wasn’t like he would admit it either.
You yawn, lifting your fingers to swipe at the crust that clings to the corners of your eyes. As much as you wanted to relish in Sukuna’s hold, the urge to go to the bathroom and relieve yourself was becoming painfully apparent — though you knew that any attempt to leave bed would be completely futile.
Even with that knowledge, you attempt to sit upward, only to be met with a sharp groan from Sukuna followed by the tightening of his arm over your waist. His nails dig into the exposed skin of your hips, effectively rooting you to your place in bed.
“Quit movin’ around you brat,” Sukuna murmurs, shifting closer to you and burying his face into the waistband of your pajama pants, exhaling deeply and adjusting himself to be more comfortable. You chuckle to yourself, turning your head to stare down at the sleepy King of Curses — it would be funny if you were to “accidentally” take a photo of him.
“I have to pee Ryo,” you reply, reaching a hand out and threading your fingers through his hair, nails raking gently over his scalp. Against his better judgement, Sukuna leans into the warmth that your touch radiates, eyes still closed like a content cat. It was humorous, this was the same man who could destroy entire cities with so much as a snap of his fingers.
“Mmph.” His arms tighten impossibly further around you, his actions earning a breathy giggle from you. You can feel his lips quirk upward against the skin of your hip, but you don’t say anything, not wanting to ruin this incredibly rare moment.
You decide to humor him, lowering yourself into his arms and tucking your head underneath his chin. Your arms circle his neck, nails scraping over his nape and toying with the hairs that reside there. Sukuna, shockingly, presses himself further into your touch, seeking more of it like a cat starved of affection.
His forehead ghosts over your own, eyes closed in content the moment that your skin meets his own. He would never admit it to you, but the safety that stood in tandem with your presence was reassuring in a way that not even he could describe.
"Five more minutes woman," Sukuna murmurs, tightening his grip on you and going so far as to tangle his legs with your own, only further trapping you to the sheets of your bed.
You giggle, laying a kiss against his lips, not failing to notice the way that his quirk up against your own.
"Five more minutes."
"Cleaning up?" Geto asks with a curious tilt of his head, watching as you lift another framed photograph from your bedside table. You smile, turning on your heel.
"Yeah, that and I wanted to replace a couple of the pictures," you answer, gesturing to the photo frames lying face up on your bed. Geto follows your gaze, humming thoughtfully. "Want to help me pick them out?"
Geto smiles, closing the distance between you both and placing a sweet kiss against your forehead. Your arms wrap around his waist, holding him close to you. His eyes wander down to the photograph in your hands – it was one of you, himself, Nanako, and Mimiko.
Nanako and Mimiko are hanging off of Geto's outstretched arms, their lips turned upward in bright smiles. You're standing just in front of Geto, hands hovering beneath the twin girls just in case either one of them were to fall.
"Don't replace that one," Geto says suddenly, reaching a larger hand out and taking the frame from you. He smiles at it, then returning it to your hand. You chuckle breathily, stepping out of his embrace and turning to glance at the other photographs you had laid out on your bed.
"I like that one too. But what about these?"
You receive no answer.
"Sugu?" You turn back to where he had been standing, tilting your head curiously. The space he occupied was empty.
"Mama? Who are you talkin' to?" Nanako peeks her head into your bedroom, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion as she pushes your door open. You still, eyes flickering down to the frame in your hands. Your fingers tighten over it, eyes pricking with tears. "Mama?"
"Nothin' honey," you reply tearfully, smiling shakily at her as you swipe the backs of your knuckles against your eyes.
"It was nobody."