✎ Baby To The Rescue

✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

I found this sheep mc maker picrew made by gracedcoup. So....um anyone wants to make sheep mc?

Here's mine!

Tagging (no pressure to do it) : @kannra21 @nerdy-talks @keiskyutie @leviathans-watching @trashy-corvian and anyone who wants to join!

toji fushiguro if he woke up and decided to shoot for olympic silver instead of the star plasma vessel 🤠👍

“i have love and dreams too! but you know, one day everyone will grow up and leave me behind, right?” satoru chuckles as he waves his hand at yuuji nonchalantly, unaware of the weight that his words carry as you look up at him with watery eyes.

you rub your temples with one hand as to hide the incoming tears as you wait for their conversation to be over so you can speak to gojo. as soon as yuuji leaves, you enter the room; quick to approach the white-haired man and wrap your arms around him, burying your face between his shoulder blades.

“oh? missed me that much?” he tilts his head to the side, eyeing you as he gives you a small smirk. it disappears when he feels a wet spot clinging to his back and satoru manoeuvres his body around to face you, hands instantly cupping your cheeks as he looks down in concern, “hey now, that’s not very cute of you. i hate it when you cry.”

you push your face into his chest, a broken sob escaping your throat as you wail into his shirt, “you’re the one who makes me cry! saying stuff like that.”

satoru’s eyes squint in confusion before he ahh!’s in recognition, a cheeky smile appearing on his lips, “you and i both know that it’s not about you. i married you so we could be outgrown by the kids together.”

you slap his chest that rumbles with chuckles and press your ear against his left pectoral, spending a few quiet seconds searching for his heartbeat.

“i can still feel sad.” you murmur under your breath, tightening your grip on him as he rests his hand on top of your head, fingers weaving through your hair.

“feel sad for me?”

“mhm.”

satoru hums, stroking the back of your head, and smears a small kiss on your temple, muttering against it, “c’mon, baby, there’s no need for that.”

you sniffle into the sturdy surface of his chest, fingers digging deeper into his back, “i-i missed you so much. and now— now you’re going away again! it’s not fair.”

satoru’s movements on your hair come to a halt as he pulls away slightly to take a look at your face. his big palms cup the sides of it, concerned gaze scanning over your features as he exhales, breath coming out unsteadily. his eyes harden for a brief moment before ab apologetic expression settles on his face, the corners of his lips trembling as he speaks.

“i’ll do my best to make it quick, alright?”

you stare up at him, brows creasing upwards in confusion since that clearly wasn’t what was on satoru’s mind, but don’t push — too tired to attempt anything again as you bask in his warmth for as long as you can before he goes to fight sukuna.

something didn’t feel right.

the end times — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo satoru thinks he’s going to die because you’re giving him the silent treatment. (aka your first big fight with gojo).

contents. hurt/comfort, ooc, lovesick!gojo, you give him the silent treatment and he goes crazy, he is so pathetic in this one, tw obsessive behavior (he makes it EVERYONE’S problem), gojo’s pov

notes. loosely inspired by that one scene from yakuza fiance. not proofread whats new

Gojo knows he’s screwed up the second he steps into the common area of Jujutsu Tech’s dormitory. The air feels thick, wrong. And then there’s you, curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, but your eyes aren’t moving.

His grin falters for half a second before he masks it with his usual bravado. “I always knew you had a little freak in you, but reading your erotic books out in the open? Who knew my girl was such a perv.”

The joke usually earns him a laugh, a shove, maybe even a teasing retort. But tonight, the silence that follows is deafening.

The pit in his stomach grows.

“Sweetheart?” He tries again, waving a hand obnoxiously close to your face.

You finally react, swatting his hand away, but there’s no playfulness in the motion. Your eyes don't even meet his.

“You’re late,” you say flatly, still staring at your book. “Again.”

Gojo scoffs, irritation bubbling. Not at you, never at you, but at the damn book that’s getting more attention than him.

“Ah, you know how it is. Got held up in Kyoto,” he says with a shrug.

The words leave his mouth too easily. He doesn’t realize his mistake until you finally, finally look at him.

And it’s nothing like usual.

There’s no warmth in your gaze, no sparkle of amusement or exasperation. Instead, you pin him with a look so sharp it strips him bare, leaving nothing but the hollow weight in his chest.

“You missed our date.”

His breath catches. His throat goes dry. “I–”

“I’m not mad about that.”

Relief floods him too fast, too soon. His shoulders sag as he leans down, tilting his head for a well-earned kiss. “You’re the best. I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

You pull away before he can touch you.

Gojo freezes.

“[Name]?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You know, it’s funny.”

There’s nothing funny about this moment.

His pulse thrums as you continue, voice eerily steady. “That your mission was in Kyoto. I mean, we have a whole sister school there, full of sorcerers ready to handle a first-grade threat. So why would they need you, specifically?”

His stomach drops.

He’s never been good at guilt, not when he’s spent his whole life believing he’s untouchable. But now, standing before you, unable to meet your eyes, it sits heavy in his gut.

And you don’t let up.

“Of course, I asked around. Thought maybe I was overthinking it.” A humorless scoff escapes you. “Imagine my surprise when I found out my boyfriend was too busy meeting with his future bride.”

Gojo’s mouth opens, but for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to say.

“That’s–” he starts, then stops because, shit, you’re staring at him like he’s a stranger. Like he’s someone you can’t trust. The realization makes his stomach churn.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” you say bitterly, arms crossing as you lean back into the couch. “I mean, I’d love to hear how you were going to explain this one, Gojo Satoru.”

Full name. That’s how he knows he’s really fucked up.

“It’s not–It’s not what you think,” he says quickly, voice unusually hoarse. His usual bravado, his charm, none of it is coming to him. He doesn’t even know where to start. “I wasn’t–I wasn’t hiding it. I just–”

“You just forgot to tell me that your clan is arranging a marriage for you?” you cut in sharply. “That slipped your mind?”

“No! Yes—Fuck, that’s not what I mean,” he groans, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s never felt like this before. Like he’s scrambling for footing on uneven ground. “I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter, sweetheart. I wasn’t ever going to go through with it. You know that, right?”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Do I? I mean, Suguru seemed shocked when I didn’t know that these were recurring dates set by your clan.”

Gojo falters.

“You didn’t even think to tell me, Satoru,” you say, voice quieter now, but somehow even more devastating. “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”

His heart clenches. That’s not–God, that’s not what this is.

“Of course you deserve to know! But I—” he exhales sharply, trying to gather his words. “I just—Fuck, I thought it was stupid. I thought it wasn’t worth mentioning.”

You shake your head, looking almost tired now. “Right. Because I’m just supposed to assume you’d never go through with it. After your multiple dates with her. Because I’m supposed to read your mind, just like always.”

The weight of your words crashes into him, and Gojo suddenly realizes that this isn’t just about Kyoto. This isn’t just about one lie, one mistake. This is about every time he’s brushed things off, every time he’s let silence speak for him, every time he’s sat through those excruciating meetings, knowing he would never go through with it, but never once thinking about how it would feel for you to find out this way. This is about every time he’s expected you to just get him without him ever having to say a word.

This is about how, even after everything, you still don’t know how much he loves you.

And now, looking at you, Gojo is terrified that he’s already lost his chance to prove it.

“I’m going to sleep,” you stand up from your place on the couch. 

Gojo tries to follow you, “Listen, baby–”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I need some space.” you turn around to send him a teary glare and that stops him in his tracks. He had never seen you cry. And it tore him apart knowing that he was the cause. 

The sound of your door slamming echoes in Gojo’s mind. 

Gojo Satoru is the first one in class the next day.

He drums his fingers against the desk, restless in a way he can't explain, but he knows it has everything to do with the fact that he spent the entire night not sleeping. His mind was too busy replaying the way you had looked at him, no, the way you hadn’t looked at him.

He had left you alone and upset. He had made you feel like you were second to someone else. And worst of all, he hadn’t even realized it until it was too late.

“This must be a first.”

Gojo glances up as Suguru enters, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Gojo Satoru, on time? It must be the end times.”

He knows it’s a joke, but it might as well be the end times. Gojo doesn’t respond, just presses his lips into a thin line as he goes back to mentally reciting the apology speech he’s been revising in his head all night.

Then the shoji door slides open again.

You walk in with Shoko, your head tilted slightly as you whisper something to her, something he’ll never get to hear because you don’t so much as glance in his direction. Instead, you take a seat at the farthest desk, as if he isn’t even there.

A part of him withers away.

But Gojo Satoru isn’t one to give up.

If words won’t get your attention, he’ll just have to be Gojo Satoru about it. He leans back in his chair and stretches obnoxiously, before loudly exclaiming, “Yaga-sensei! Are those grey hairs from your recent divorce?”

He grins, waiting for the familiar sound of your laugh, for that little shake of your head, for you to scold him like always.

But you don’t even look at him.

Instead, he’s met with Geto and Shoko’s twin expressions of abject horror, and before he has a chance to register what’s happening–

BAM!

Yaga’s palm collides with his head, sending him face-first into his desk.

Even through the throbbing pain, he can only think about one thing.

You didn’t even react.

“And how exactly is she ignoring you?”

Shoko’s grumpy voice echoes through the morgue, where she’s been attempting to practice her technique. She’s clearly unimpressed that Gojo Satoru has decided to spam-call her instead of dealing with his own problems.

“She’s ignoring me, Shoko,” Gojo groans dramatically from the other side of the Jujutsu Tech campus, rubbing the fresh bump on his head as he stands in front of your door. “I’ve been knocking for an hour. She’s in there. I know she’s in there, but she won’t answer.”

“Maybe she finally got tired of your bullshit,” Shoko says dryly. “Honestly, I don’t know why it took her this long to hold you accountable. She’s let your bad behavior slide for way too long.”

“Why are we talking about me like I’m some kind of dog?!”

Shoko ignores him.

“From the sound of it, you really messed up. I mean, who keeps a marriage a secret from their girlfriend?” She pauses, then adds with a smirk in her voice, “Oh, right. You.”

Gojo groans, pressing his forehead against your door. “You and I both know that’s not what happened. But she doesn’t. And she won’t even give me the time of day to explain.”

Shoko sighs. “Give her time to cool down.”

“And what, let her decide she wants to run off and marry some other guy? Move to a cute little beach town in Enoshima, start a family, have three kids, and leave all Jujutsu sorcery behind?”

There’s a long pause before Shoko makes a disgusted sound. “O-oi. Keep your weirdly detailed fantasies to yourself.”

“I’m just being realistic,” he insists, clutching his flip phone dramatically.

Shoko promptly hangs up on him.

Gojo stares at the device for a moment before slowly lowering it, exhaling hard.

Then he rests his head against your door again, defeated.

But Gojo Satoru was never one to admit defeat, so he tries again. He returns to your door the very next morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“[Name]!” he chirps. “I bought us some parfait! Let’s talk things over, yeah?”

Silence.

Not even the sound of movement.

But Gojo Satoru is not easily discouraged.

So Gojo Satoru comes again the next morning.

“[Name]!” he knocks again, this time balancing a slice of strawberry cake in one hand. “This is all my fault, so come out and let me apologize properly!”

Nothing.

Gojo sighs, leaning against the doorframe, about to knock again when—

Your phone rings.

His breath catches as he presses his ear to the wood.

“Hi, Suguru?”

His heart stops.

“Yeah, we’re still on for the movie. I’m just about to leave right now.”

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru understands what people mean when they say they feel like they’ve been punched in the gut.

Because you’re going to Suguru.

You’re not just ignoring him, you’re choosing someone else.

His fingers twitch at his sides as a feeling he doesn’t like at all creeps into his chest. It’s something ugly, something unfamiliar. Something that feels a lot like jealousy. Was that how you felt?

He wants to knock again, wants to demand that you open the door, look at him, let him fix this before you walk away from him any further.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he presses his lips into a thin line, shoves his hands into his pockets, and forces himself to step away from your door.

Forces himself to give you the space you deserved.

You don’t know why you relent so easily.

You shouldn’t. Not after the way he lied, the way he kept something so important from you.

And yet, when you hear him pacing outside your door, his nervous energy practically seeping through the walls, you feel something crack.

He’s been outside your room for the nth time this week. Every day, like clockwork, he’s knocked. Brought your favorite snacks. Talked to you through the door, filling the silence with his ridiculous banter, even when you refused to answer.

You squeeze your eyes shut, gripping your blanket a little tighter. You should stay angry. But you can't.

You sigh, pressing your forehead to your knee.

Maybe it’s time to stop punishing the both of you.

With a deep breath, you stand, crossing the room to the door. When you open it, Gojo nearly stumbles forward, mid-step in his pacing.

His eyes snap to yours, wide and filled with so much desperate hope it makes your chest ache.

And the way his face lights up like you’ve just handed him the entire world tells you that, maybe, you were never going to be able to stay mad at him forever.

But you’re here, leaning on your door frame with your arms crossed, your nails digging into your skin as you glare at the man who has spent the last ten minutes tripping over his words, looking wrecked in a way you’ve never seen before. His hair is messier than usual, lips are parted like he wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t know where to start.

Finally, you scoff, breaking the silence. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m going back into my room.”

“No!,” Gojo steps forward instinctively, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. And after everything, he is. “I screwed up.”

You give him a deadpan look. “Oh, really?”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah, I really fucked up.”

Silence.

You should say something. You should demand an explanation, yell, maybe even cry, but you’re so tired. You’ve spent days twisting yourself into knots over this, convincing yourself you never meant as much to him as he did to you.

And then Gojo says it.

“I should’ve told you.” His voice is hoarse. “I should have told you after the first meeting. After the first second they brought it up.” He swallows hard. “But I was stupid. I thought if I ignored it, if I went through the motions, if I waited for the right moment… then it wouldn’t matter. That it would be over before you ever had to know.”

You shake your head, letting out a hollow laugh. “Satoru, do you even hear yourself? Do you get what it was like for me to find out from someone else? To hear that the person I–” you cut yourself off, but the damage is done. You see it in the way his breath hitches, in the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you.

“The person you what?” he asks softly, pleading.

You clench your jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

Your shake your head. “You lied to me.”

“I know,” he says, and the sheer brokenness in his voice makes your throat tighten. “I know, sweetheart. And I swear to you that I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you.” he exhales shakily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear on everything, I was never going to go through with it. I never even showed up to any of the dates, so they kept ambushing me under the guise of missions! I sat through every single one of those goddamn meetings thinking about how ridiculous it was, how there was only ever one person I wanted.”

He stops himself, inhaling sharply.

And then, quieter, almost afraid:

“How there’s only ever you.”

The words hit you like a fist to the chest.

Gojo watches you carefully, breathless, waiting. Hoping. He’s given you the truth, raw and unfiltered, and now it’s up to you.

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most important thing in his world that makes you believe him.

For the first time in a week, your lips find his, and Gojo swears he can finally breathe again. The warmth of your palm against his cheek, the way your fingers curl slightly as if grounding yourself in him. It’s enough to make him melt.

"You’re so insufferably cheesy, Satoru," you murmur against his lips, your breath warm, teasing. "It makes me so angry that I love it." A pause, a soft exhale. "But I forgive you."

His grin is instant, smug and shameless. "That was good, huh?" He tilts his head, cerulean eyes twinkling. "I’m willing to bet your heart skipped a beat."

You roll your eyes, but you kiss him again, slower this time, because, damn it, he’s right.

extra!

“I demand some extra loving!” Satoru sprawls dramatically across your bed, limbs hanging off the edge like a defeated king.

You barely spare him a glance, flipping a page in your book as you lie comfortably on your stomach. “And why, exactly, do you deserve that?”

He lifts his head, pouting. “I deserve it after a week’s worth of psychological trauma. Don’t think I forgot that you ditched me for Suguru.”

“Oh… that.”

“Yeah. That.” His voice is thick with exaggerated betrayal.

You finally look at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “It was a fake phone call, Satoru. You were just so insufferable camping outside my door that I had to make up an excuse.”

His jaw drops. “Huh?!”

if you're ok with an incessant amount of boops reblog this so I can get those other 2 badges <3

what is happening

by the way ignore my character I just love shoko Komi so much she's adorable

how would reader and gojo react to megumi bringing a girl home?

the fushigojos are back baby!! thank you anon 💙

“i’m kind of busy right now, gojo,” you grunt, dodging a swing of the curse’s limb and silently thanking nanami for the bluetooth piece he’d given you on christmas. it was almost like he’d known something like this would happen.

“but, babe, it’s an emergency!”

“is this a ‘somebody is bleeding or missing a limb’ emergency?” you ask, your sword piercing the body of the second curse of the evening, effectively exorcising it. “or another ‘megumi doesn’t like avicii’ kind of emergency?”

“none of the above!” he insists in your earpiece. “it’s even worse than megumi’s lack of musical taste!”

“oh, what could possibly be worse than that?” you ask dryly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes and take your gaze off the curses closing in on you.

“he just called and asked if a friend could come over after school!”

that actually gives you pause. “wait— like a human friend? cause i told him last time that actual dogs that our landlord can see and hear aren’t allowed in the apartment.”

“yeah, a human friend! now don’t you understand why i’m freaking out?” he’s only gotten more dramatic with your own shock at the predicament. “we know tsumiki’s friends, sure, but we’ve never met one of megumi’s! mostly cause he doesn’t have any, so what do we do?”

you swing at a lunging curse with one arm as you check your watch, grimacing when you see it reads 3:25pm. megumi gets out of school in five minutes, and it only takes him ten to walk home. no way you’ll make it before then.

“just put some snacks on the table,” you instruct. “all of megumi’s favourites and a handful of the candy from that jar you keep at the back of the top shelf. don’t do anything else until i get back.”

“okay! so that means you’re coming home soon though— hey, wait a minute! how did you know about my candy stash? i put it on the top because—”

“because you think none of us can reach it,” you finish, actually rolling your eyes this time. “i’ll refill your jar like tsumiki and i always do, just put some out in case megumi’s friend doesn’t like veggie trays and candied ginger.”

“wait, you guys steal from it too—”

you yank your bluetooth out before he can finish complaining.

-

you finally check your phone as you drag yourself up the stairs of your apartment. it’d been buzzing insistently as you’d finished up your mission, gone to the school to report back to yaga, and grabbed some take out on the way home.

[83 texts from satoru gojo]

[22 missed calls from satoru gojo]

sighing, you hit clear all and shove your phone into your pocket, exchanging it for your keys and jamming them into the lock.

when you get the door open, the first thing you register is how unnaturally quiet it is. it’s so quiet that all you can hear is the hum of the air conditioning. the last time it was this quiet was after suguru—

you set the takeout bag on the counter, the crinkle of the plastic bag suddenly the loudest sound you’ve ever heard as you peer over the counter at the scene in the living room.

gojo’s seated in the arm chair, manspreading, of course, elbows planted on his knees as he stares over the rim of his shades at megumi and who you assume is his friend. when you said not to do anything else, you didn’t think he’d take you seriously (mostly because gojo rarely listens to you at all)

“hi,” you say, taking a step into the living room. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m megumi’s other guard—”

it’s a girl.

gojo makes an exasperated noise, and megumi rolls his eyes. “wait,” you pause, tilting your head at the girl sitting beside him. “aren’t you the one shoko’s mentoring? i didn’t know you went to the same school as megumi.”

she opens her mouth to reply, but your red-faced megumi stops her. “we’re just here to work on a science project,” he explains. “gojo-sensei isn’t letting us go.”

“why not?” you question, averting your gaze to your boyfriend, who jumps out of his seat and pulls you towards your bedroom, telling the kids not to move a muscle and that his six-eyes see everything.

“because we haven’t had the talk with megumi yet,” he reasons urgently. “we can’t leave him alone with a girl. what if he doesn’t know what to do?”

you draw back to stare at him in confusion. “know what to do— satoru, do you even know what the talk is?”

he just blinks at you. “the sex talk. how to have sex.”

oh, to be the strongest sorcerer alive, whose education growing up was limited to cursed technique application and nothing further.

“it’s about how and when to do it safely,” you correct with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “and he’s only 14. we agreed to give it to him when he turned 16.”

it’s almost amusing seeing him so worried, eyes darting from you to the door as if he could look through it. “so we’re just going to let him go into his room with a girl? don’t you remember the first time i got you alone in my room—”

“first of all we were 19 when that happened, and second of all i did all the work because,” you poke a finger at the centre of his chest, “you were some touch-starved virgin who lasted less than two minutes.”

“hey!” he whines, batting your hand away. “you agreed never to bring that up again, and we’re talking about megumi right now!”

“just have them work on their project at the dining table,” you shrug. “and she’s basically shoko’s student, remember? she’s not going to make a move on him or anything.”

his frown just deepens. “but what if—”

“no.”

“or maybe—”

“no, satoru.”

he slumps in defeat, grumbling as you twist the doorknob open and pull him outside with you to explain the set-up to the kids.

you have to yank gojo into the kitchen with you to stop him from hovering as they settle at the dining table, pulling out textbooks and sheets of paper.

“see,” you tell him. “completely innocent. i’m glad he’s finally made a friend.”

and she comes back, too. sometimes with shoko, sometimes without. you don’t even end up giving him the talk early, because once gojo’s warmed up to the idea of megumi having a friend?

he breaks out the photo albums.

“and this is the time megumi tried to cut his own hair because he didn’t like the undercut i might have messed up! he had to wear his hair down for a while and looked like a coconut!”

he doesn’t know when to shut up.

“megumi! here’s your laundry! only three pairs of underwear this week? how many days in a row do you wear them? ha! kinda gross, dude.”

and he doesn’t have a filter.

“did you know megumi’s scared of cats? once when he was in third grade he was chased home by a tabby and i think it scarred him for life. good thing you don’t have any cat shikigami.”

you learn, quickly, that sometimes he’s his own brand of contraception.

Part 3 - Jacket is gone and he is blushing!!

Dear Chuu!

You know Justin Bieber's 2010's hit Favorite Girl? I can imagine Satoru using it to be cheesy to Reader especially since the timelines align with their dating days....just how cheesy that man would be for his girlfriend. Maybe even the song Baby too. He'd have all those corny 2010's pop love songs playlist dedicated to Reader. 🥹

- 🏵️ Anon

rosette nonnie!! oh that’s so happening😌 he will try to rizz the reader and sing it in front of her, twirling with this imaginary mic right at the center of the gym, and thinking he’s so cool and you’ll fall in love all over again but—

“baby baby baby woooo~” 😎

“…what did you do to him?” shoko nudges you, as you stand rooted on the spot, not really knowing what expression you should pull— blank face or total amazement.

“she has cursed him,” geto retorts.

you throw him a look. “i tried to stop him, really.”