Do yall ever just
stress reliever
ah it’s finally here. the fushigojo shibuya arc warnings: just a dash of angst, pregnancy, jjk manga spoilers
then.
megumi’s been in his room since you’d returned from the hospital. which was, at this point, six hours ago.
you and gojo had been sitting on the floor outside his bedroom door for five.
“what do we say to him?” you ask, resting your head on your husband’s shoulder. “what can we do to make this a little bit better?”
“i don’t know,” he answers quietly, taking your hand into both of his. “there’s…no parenting book or article about how to comfort your kid after his sister’s been cursed.”
you squeeze your eyes shut, exhaling through the deep ache in your chest. it’d been difficult to see her like that. your tsumiki, sweet, kind, and caring, laying lifeless in that bed.
“at the hospital he told me they’d had a fight the day before. that he’d said something mean. it was the last thing he said to her.”
“tsumiki wouldn’t hold it against him,” gojo says. “she knows what he’s like. knows it was probably from a place of care.”
it’d also been hard to see megumi sitting at her bedside, face stony as he clutched his sister's hand. “doesn’t mean he feels any less awful about it.”
“yeah,” gojo sighs, letting his head fall back against the door. you suppose he might know what that’s like.
“what do we do, satoru?” you ask, tears brimming your eyes. “we still don’t know how—”
“hey, it’s okay.” it comes out a little unsteady, as he himself isn't convinced of it, but he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as the last few hours finally catch up to you. you’re exhausted, distraught, and hurting. “we can figure that out tomorrow, but for now we’ve gotta focus on him.”
all you can manage is a small nod as he wipes the tears from your cheeks and helps you up, the two of you pushing open the door.
megumi's sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, shoulders trembling slightly. he doesn't have to lift his head for the both of you to know his cheeks are stained with tears.
something painful grips your heart at the realization that you've never seen him cry before. not when he was 6 and you took him to the doctor to get his first shot. not when he was 8 and fell out of the tree at the park across from your apartment and broke his arm. not when he was 11 and lost his first science fair.
but his sorrow flows freely now, proof of a sibling who was well-loved and sorely missed. you slowly sink to your knees in front of him, pulling him into a hug and letting his tears soak your shirt.
now.
you're not sure how to feel as you stare at those two pink lines.
for the most part, you're elated. because this is good...right? a baby was good news. it'd relieve some of the pressure the two of you had been under from the gojo clan, which was a plus.
but you'd be lying if you said you didn't have...a feeling. you tap the test against the palm of your hand, lips pursed as you reach for your phone to call gojo.
but the front door opens before you can tap his contact, and megumi walks in.
“hey!” you grin, fumbling to hide the test behind your back. “what are you doing here?”
megumi stares at you in that awfully analytical way he’d picked up from your husband. “gojo sent me to find you.”
your smile quickly disappears. “why?”
“he said something’s happening in shibuya. i think he might need help.” then, after a moment, “what are you holding?”
you can’t lie to megumi, you’ve never been able to. so you sigh, pulling the test from behind your back. “i think i’m pregnant.”
his brows raise in surprise, but he quickly smooths his expression over. “does he know?”
“no, i just found out,” you tell him, grabbing your coat. “do you think he’ll be excited? can you act surprised when i tell him? so he thinks he’s the first—”
“you shouldn’t come.”
it’s your turn to stare at him in disbelief. “you just said that you think he needs help—”
megumi grimaces and tries again. “but with your condition—”
“get in the car, megumi,” you snap, grabbing your keys. “we’re going to shibuya.”
--
shibuya is a disaster.
it's frantic, messy. you're overwhelmed. you need to throw up. you can't find gojo.
you're holding onto megumi as to not lose track of him, gripping the sleeve of his shirt as you run around the station looking for that telltale shock of white hair.
and when you finally see it, he's not alone.
it all comes back in flashes, once treasured memories that only bring pain as you stare at the man you thought was dead. "is that—”
megumi's yelling, but gojo doesn't seem to hear him. he's frozen in place, staring at the man who was once his best friend.
that's when it happens. it snaps gojo out of his state of shock, and you can only look on in horror as he's gripped by something you'd only read about in books but never seen yourself.
you're fighting to pull air into your lungs now. you know what's happening. you're stumbling forward, reaching for him, but megumi grabs you around the waist and hauls you backwards.
"no! satoru!"
it's after his name is ripped from your chest that he sees you. it hurts, the naked fear in his eyes when he looks at you and megumi and shouts something you can't hear over the roar in your ears. you desperately pull at the threads of your cursed energy, the shadows around you swirling in response as if they too are reaching for him.
but you're too late.
you're too stunned to speak, clinging to megumi as he drags you back and away.
he doesn't stop until the two of you into the shadows of a secluded corner, both of you slumping against the wall. megumi says your name a few times, but you can't hear him over the train of thoughts racing through your head.
it's when he finally croaks, "mom," shaking you, that you look up into the concerned face of your megumi. the only person you have left. "you need to go. if...if that was their plan all along, then chances are you're in danger too."
you shake your head. "i'm not leaving you here."
"i can't lose you," he whispers, and your heart breaks when the tears he's been holding back form in the corners of his eyes. "please."
he pulls you into a tight embrace, his hands desperately gripping the back of your shirt as he lets you lean into him.
"it's going to be okay. we're going to be okay," you tell him, and though he nods against your shoulder, you know he's just as unsure as you are.
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?!”
- gojo satoru x reader
sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again
genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭
note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”
“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”
“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”
Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.
The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.
Apparently not.
“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”
Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.
. . .
“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”
At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.
“Satoru...?”
And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—
“Satoru, are you—?”
“Just fucking shut it!”
And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.
“Huh…?”
Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?
If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”
Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.
There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.
But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.
Damn it. Damn it all!
In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.
Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.
You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.
Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.
After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.
“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”
“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.
“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.
“…” This shithead. That's it.
“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”
“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”
Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.
“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.
“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”
Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.
You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.
“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”
He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.
And after a while...
“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”
The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.
“Mm-hmm, I know.”
“Really.”
“Mmm, really, really.”
He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”
Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.
“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”
And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.
“They're just some paranoid old fools—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”
“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”
“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”
...oh.
And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.
First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.
And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.
It made something inside you flutter.
“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”
“Huh?”
“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”
Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.
But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—
“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”
The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.
The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.
“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”
You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.
Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.
“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—
But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.
And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.
“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”
And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.
“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.
“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”
“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”
At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.
“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”
Epilogue
Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.
"Satoru... what are you...?"
He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."
However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.
"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."
When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.
"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"
"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."
Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered your baby—
"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"
...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.
Satoru being swarmed and fawned over by girls isn’t an uncommon occurrence. “I’m just a likeable man!” he replies to anyone who asks him about it. Despite all the attention he receives—from girls and boys alike—he has eyes for just one person.
“He’s so hot! Oh my god!” one girl exclaims, glancing at Satoru and Suguru, who are leaning casually against the school lockers.
“Which one? Dibs on the guy with the bun!” one of her friends chimes in.
“The white-haired guy! Imagine how good-looking our kids would be if they had his eyes and hair but my face,” the girl says, clearly on cloud nine as she fantasizes about their impossible future together.
While organizing your things from your locker, you bite your tongue, not wanting to intervene in the loud conversation of the three girls beside you, even if one of them is already fantasizing about your boyfriend.
“I heard he has a girlfriend,” her friend with ribbons in her hair blurts out.
“Things can be stolen if left unattended,” the raven-haired girl smirks while twirling her hair.
“But he isn’t a thing, is he?” you counter, causing all three girls to turn their heads toward you. The girl eager to steal your boyfriend glares at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. You stifle a laugh at her “tough” demeanor, knowing it could easily be broken down with just a few words.
“I’m just saying he isn’t an object. Clearly, you can't seem to see that,” you assert, which only angers her and her minions further.
“Maybe she just wants him for herself, Yumi,” the girl with ribbons suggests, prompting their “leader” to smirk and appraise you from head to toe.
“He would never want her. Why would Satoru Gojo choose someone like her when he has better options?” Yumi states smugly.
“Better options that keep thinking he’s some object to be stolen? What a beautiful array of options that is,” you retort sarcastically, pulling books from your locker. “If you want to take him away, go ahead. But from what I’ve heard, he’s completely too wide-eyed for his girlfriend to even notice anyone else.”
You smile and walk away to your class, leaving them fuming behind you.
As soon as the bell rings, students rush to the door and exit the school. The rain pours heavily outside, causing water to drip through the windows of the classrooms.
“Goodbye, Miss Cawas,” you bid your teacher before stepping out of the classroom. The corridors are nearly deserted, with everyone clearly wanting to stay dry as they dash for the exit.
“Mind giving me a ride?” you hear Yumi’s faint voice ask as you approach the school exit.
“Can’t, I’m waiting for someone,” comes the familiar voice of your boyfriend, declining her request. You chuckle softly, placing one of your earbuds in its case.
As you come into view, Satoru’s smile widens as he waves. A warm feeling surges through you, and you wave back. Your smile quickly morphs into a smirk when you see the color drain from Yumi’s face as you approach them both.
“Hi, my love. Had a good day?” Satoru asks, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on your lips. You catch Yumi’s jaw dropping from the corner of your eye as you reciprocate Satoru’s kiss.
“Oh, hi, Yumi,” you greet her with a saccharine smile. Her eyes drop to Satoru’s arm wrapped securely around your waist.
“Y-you’re—”
“Toru’s girlfriend, yeah,” you interject.
“Y-you’re very lucky,” she says, struggling to swallow the mean and crude comments she clearly wants to unleash.
“Actually, I’m the lucky one,” Satoru laughs, turning to you. “Let’s go before the rain gets stronger.”
“Okay, love,” you reply, caressing his cheek. You step aside as he opens the car door, Yumi still staring at you both, watching your every move.
“Oh, Yumi!” you call out just before getting in, and her eyes snap to you. “Satoru’s eyes do look really pretty, don’t they? Too bad only my kids will inherit them. Have a good day!” You smile sweetly at her before slipping into the car with Satoru.
You watch Yumi’s figure fade from the side mirror as the car pulls away.
“You okay?” Satoru asks, concern etched on his face.
“Mhm, all good,” you say, closing your eyes and letting the warmth envelop you.
The ride is spent in comfortable silence, the only sound being the rain hitting the car roof.
“I think our kids will look even better with your eyes than with mine,” Satoru muses, glancing at you with a soft smile.
“Then with your hair,” you reply, making him nod and smile even more. He takes your hand in his and kisses it, never tearing his eyes away from the road.
You don’t mind that Satoru is fawned over by countless admirers every day. You know very well that he has eyes for you and you alone. And you only have your eyes on him.
https://x.com/miha_ut/status/1363849257329991690?s=46&t=_1b483ARcjmNSXNEWIFNqQ
SON GOJO🥹🙏🏽
AWWW so cute🤧 the one piece is so cute—gojo is totally dressing him up as everything🥹 thank you for dropping these nonnie it gives me the boost to continue babysitter’s club😋
Hello hello, it's me! Today I'm here again to announce another freebie! Please make sure to reblog this so that your writing buddies get to download this, too :D
So, what is this guide? It's an informative e-book to help you develop your fictional characters!
Throughout the 32 pages of this e-book, we will cover eight important topics on character building, such as:
Understanding characters in fiction by defining their role
How to brainstorm ideas and create characters from scratch
Make your characters real and relatable by their flaws and virtues
How to differentiate characters using their voice and personality
How relationships affect the plot
Master character arcs and subplots
Show (don't tell) how the relationships between characters develop
Avoid pitfalls and clichés
I've also included an extra chapter with three important tips to master the skill of character building!
Happy writing,
Rach
20 | she/they | fandoms: obey me!, Yandere simulator, Doki Doki Literature Club, etc.
239 posts