THATS NOT MY JJK MAN! Animation Teaser Is Here!

THATS NOT MY JJK MAN! animation teaser is here!

y'all i was gonna wait until next week to give y'all it but imma do it now cause it was going to be a gif but now i added sound so the full 28 sec animation upload will be as a video! and im too excited not to share!

for anyone who hasn't played "That's Not My Neighbor" you can play it for free here, without downloading anything. Not required to read the fic as ill give a lil premise to set the stage:

case files: Doppelgänger curses have been running rampant and causing chaos around Tokyo impersonating everyday civilians including sorcerers. Jujutsu society has set up veils and your JJK boyfriend has given you strict orders not to lower them to let anyone in the house but him—but can you identify the real one? (canon-verse).

short 500-1k drabbles of Gojo, Toji, Nanami, Suguru, Choso, Sukuna and Geto who will you guess correctly? who will you fail? 😭

teaser/preview: don't let him in y'all. 😭

Releasing Oct 1st!

kizzatober m.list if you want to be tagged comment there please (finishing fics i didn't for last year, will revamp m.list aesthetics tho).

Chef!Geto HCs.

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader

Word count: 1.1 K

A/N: Chef!Geto my beloved [[dreamy sigh]] SFW, only the last one is a lil suggestive hehe. enjoy. pls reblog if you enjoyed <3 comments are appreciated uwu

Chef! Geto who studied culinary arts in Japan and France, is both master so cuisine and confectionery. He’s been in the professional culinary industry for a decade and he’s still young [29] compared to other well renowned chefs.

He only recently ventured into confectionary in the last 2 years and is still shy about his creations, to which only you have the pleasure of trying.

He owns a restaurant in Tokyo and manages the place, even cooks himself on some nights. Sometimes he’s in the kitchen 7 days a week and it’s just your luck if you get to taste a dish made by Geto himself.

And you know if you’re lucky because Geto always delivers his dishes personally to the table.

Everyone in the room pauses, swooning whenever he enters because he carries an air of grace and finesse around him.

His restaurant is always booked, there’s usually a 2-3 month waiting period because who wouldn’t want the chance to have The Geto Suguru prepare your meal personally.

Even so, his restaurant is always be busy because his food is to die for and he hires the best of the best to recreate his dishes.

Every single thing on the menu was created by Geto himself, so you know you’re in for a treat.

He’s also health conscious and always puts care into making his dishes.

His restaurant is always busy because the people love the food and him. His looks paired up with his talent honestly makes him irresistible.

He’s like celebrity chef.

Has his own Instagram account with 5 million followers and growing, though his account is managed by someone because Geto isn’t really into the whole social media hype.

Given his growing popularity, Geto is recognised worldwide. He has fans all over the world, who travel to Tokyo just to try his food.

He’s been thinking of opening another branch in Paris but he doesn’t want to live far away from home and you.

Also being the perfectionist he is, he can’t see himself dedicating equal amounts of time to both restaurants since he knows the demands of opening and managing a new place. Even though he has managers to make sure everything is smooth sailing he also likes to oversee everything personally.

He has been considering opening a small confectionary, and if you have a sweet tooth like his white-haired friend that may or may not have been his reason behind the idea.

WHEN HE COOKS FOR YOU:

You know they say a person looks attractive doing what they love? That’s absolutely true with Geto.

When he’s cooking for you at home, you have the pleasure of watching him work his magic up close but also take in the view that is him.

Cooking at the restaurant and at home is different. At home when he’s in the kitchen it becomes his domain and you happily give him his space to do his thing. But he loved having you sit at the table or on the counter while he cooks so he can have you be his taste tester. But mostly it’s because he enjoys your presence.

He always has smallest smile on his face or in his eyes, humming softly as he cooks.

His hair is pulled back into a bun with a few strands falling out, framing his face. [[dreamy sigh]]

Has the biggest apron collection you have ever seen and wears a new one everyday.

You know how some people collect magnets or key rings from every place they visit?

Well.... Geto collects aprons. And if the place you’re visiting doesn’t have any he’ll pout and write it as a recommendation and drop it on their suggestion box 😭

He has a questionable taste in aprons, for some reason he just loves the aprons with horrible designs or words printed, no matter now cringe they are. He says aprons should be fun, but still looks best in a classic black apron.

Yes he has an apron that says kiss the chef in big bold letters and always asks for kisses whenever he wears it- as if he needs to ask twice asdfghjkl

His favorite apron his a baby pink one that’s says “Hot stuff” which you bought for him as a joke. But it was one of your first gifts to him and he treasures it till this day.

In addition to wearing an apron, he ways has a white hand cloth thrown over his shoulder and idk what it is [[Its him, it’s Geto]] about this whole but he looks so hot.

Whenever he’s done preparing your meals he always sets his hair loose and ugh, does he look good doing it.

L’Oréal hair models are shaking in their boots.

And yes he does some parttime modelling. It’s always photoshoots for magazine articles related to his career.

As I said eariler, Geto is still shy about his confectionary skills [[even though he's mastered it to a tea, Humble King]] so whenever he presents you with dessert, a nervous laugh escapes his lips as he rubs the back of his neck ‘I hope you like it’.

He early waits for your response, watching you intently, taking in every reaction as you chew and swallow, and ngl, his stare can be a little intimidating sometimes without him intending so.

A simple “it’s good” has him breathing a sigh of relief and shooting you the cutest eye smile ever.

Whenever he’s experimenting with new dishes for the restaurant he always asks for you opinion first!

You’re his personal taste tester hehe.

As long as you like whatever he makes, it’s a success in his eyes <3

Yes he loves to cook, especially for you <3 it’s his love language 😭

Whenever you’re working till late or busy with an assignment or studying Geto will prepare for you midnight snacks that are both yummy and energy boosting.

Special dine-in date nights include Geto cooking, but he always has a theme for dinner. Some of his favourites include; Indian, Italian, Mediterranean, and Thai cuisine.

When you first started dating he said that his other always told him the way to someone’s heart is through their stomach and he laughs at himself, because he knows it’s so cliche but you don’t tell him that he can get away with it.

Always makes your favorite dishes, especially on days when you come home feeling like the world is caving in on you, Geto is there ready with a plate of your favorite food to soothe your soul. And being cuddled up in his arms helps too uwu

Loves surprising you with breakfast in bed on random days [[he’s an easily riser]]

For every birthday he bakes you a cute little cake 🥺💕 always writes a cute little message on top using icing.

Honestly being with Geto is a dream, especially if you’re not someone who enjoys cooking or is just lazy you’ve won the lottery asdfghjkl.

Given his experience as a chef, Geto has had the pleasure of tasting the best of the best, but his favorite meal will always be you <3

satoru can't sleep without having his hands on you. he needs to be touching you in some way, he needs to. one of his favourite things to do is to just slip his hands under your shirt as he's snuggled up against your back, and to pull you flush to his chest so there isn't a single inch between you.

he buries his face in the crook of your neck, your hair, and breathes you in as he melts into you, the exhaustion finally taking over. his eyes grow heavy at the feel of your steady heartbeat, your own breathing, and he realizes that nothing has ever felt more right.

his thighs press against yours as he curls himself around you, a small, happy smile playing on his lips when in your slumber, you try to wiggle yourself deeper into him in return. he can imagine the little pout on your face, your scrunched brows – his baby.

his big arms tighten around your middle and he gives you a squeeze, his silent way of telling you that he's there and that he'll never leave.

warmth spreads all over his body when your hands find his under your shirt and you give him a little squeeze back. he knows you're alseep. but you're still looking for him, still searching for him in the darkness. still holding him.

still loving him, even when you're out like a light.

he sows his devotion into your skin with the lightest kiss right below your ear before letting his eyes fall shut. you're safe and sound, loved and cherished – and that's all he needs to know. so, he welcomes sleep with a tired smile, his hand in yours as you protect him from the dreams that desire to torment him. he, too, is safe and sound, loved and cherished – in the arms of his one and only. his everything.

❝ die with a smile ❞. . . ⇢ satoru gojo

˗ˏˋ summary: satoru thinks back to the moment you asked him the hardest question ever

˗ˏˋ wc: 4.1k

˗ˏˋ contains: gn!reader x gojo, zombie apocalypse au, heavy angst w very little comfort, major character death, established relationship, descriptive violence/injuries, mentions of blood and amputation, satoru has a panic attack, suguru & shoko cameo

˗ˏˋ a/n: this one's a wild ride yall, pls refer to the main fic + the au masterlist for this one !! otherwise.... pls do enjoy and dont cry too much while reading it :'3

“satoru… i have a question for you.”

up until this point the room had been so silent, you weren’t even sure if satoru was still awake. you could feel him, though— with your head laying above his heart, his arms caging you in, you could feel how he breathes. the rise and fall of his chest is prominent enough to indicate to you that he’s still awake, albeit a little sleepy. you noted that every once in a while it slows, until he feels you stir— shifting an arm, or a leg, to get more comfortable. that usually wakes him up a little more, picks up the rate of his breathing a tad, just as your statement now did.

he doesn’t respond for a moment, but he hums softly, tilting his head down to look at your shoulder. his index finger traces shapes on it; he’s currently tracing a heart, though you can’t tell because he’s been at it for some time now. it feels more like a bunch of squiggles.

“what’s on your mind?” he murmurs eventually. the words trickle into your ears like honey drizzling; it’s so soothing, so relaxed. he’s so physically and mentally content in this moment, with you— it makes you nervously chew on your lower lip, knowing you’re possibly about to ruin it.

“would you, um…” you pause to swallow thickly, gathering your bearings before you continued. “if the situation ever arose, would you ever— like, if someone asked you…”

he can hear the reluctance in your voice, and the tracing of his finger over your shoulder slows to a stop. he lifts his head a little bit, searching for your eyes before finally meeting your worrisome gaze. he doesn’t say anything, but you don’t think he needs to; the gentle, grounding squeeze on your shoulder says enough.

“if— if you—… if someone ever asked you to kill them before they turned… would you do it?”

satoru inhales slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment as he thinks of what to say. a part of him — a sick, intrusive part of his brain — immediately starts to ring alarm bells in his head. he pushes it all the way to the back of his mind, because— surely, you aren’t about to ask him if he would ever do such a thing to you, right? it’s preposterous that you’d even go so far to assume that this life you both live right now isn’t secure enough to guarantee your own safety until you both grow old. it’s absurd, even.

yet, he still finds himself avoiding the question; simply answering it with a question of his own. “would you?”

you can read satoru like a book. even with your head lifted off his chest, the palm you were laying over his heart can feel the way his heartbeat picked up. he knew what you were trying to ask and, for a reason you couldn’t quite place, he wasn’t willing to even entertain the thought of that ever being a possibility.

it’s not like you were particularly fond of the idea, either. it entails a heartbreaking scenario where either of you would have to make the toughest decision of your lives. to kill the person you love before they turn into something so deplorable, so lifeless— to be claimed by the one you live for, or be claimed by the undead. the answer had never been clearer, yet the choice was impossible to make. the unfortunate meeting between an unstoppable force and an immovable object.

the silence lingers between you two for a while longer before you finally break it once more, tearing your gaze away to glance across the room. in the corner, lay the dog you both rescued a long time ago— it’s been months, maybe a year by now. things have been good, they are good… they’re going to stay good.

but the fear of an uncertain future gnaws at your resolve day and night; so much so that you think, if not for the way satoru holds you so securely against his chest while he sleeps, you’d have a hard time getting any rest at all.

it’s due to this that you don’t just want an answer from him, you need it. you think of it like a safeguard; insurance against a future that, despite how much you try to delay it, may ultimately be completely inevitable.

“i would,” you mumbled, your voice as unsteady as your emotions feel. “if… if you asked me. i would do it, for you.”

satoru doesn’t need to ask why. he thinks the same of you; the thought of you ever becoming a zombie, a true monster in it’s own right— he can’t find the right words to truly encapsulate how terrible it makes him feel.

so if you were to ever die, god forbid— he doesn’t want you to go like that.

a warm hand cups your cheek, and satoru turns your head so that you’re facing him again. the cerulean of his eyes are glassy, and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows tells you enough about the size of the lump he feels in his throat. his fingers press into your skin a little bit, making small indents in the plumpness of your cheek before he finally gives you his word.

“i told you this before, but i’ll say it again… there’s nothing, absolutely nothing i wouldn’t do for you.” his tone is firm, resolute. “everything i do, everything i will ever do… i will always put you and your needs first.”

you fidget a little bit as he finishes speaking, but then he’s sliding his hand to the back of your neck and gently tugging, urging you forward. he guides you to lay back down on his chest, and as he does so he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, letting it linger for a long moment before he pulls away.

his affirmation satiates your worries, for the time being. there’s no need to continue the conversation, because— what more can you say? you gave your answer, and he gave his. there’s no other reason to keep thinking about such a dark scenario.

and while satoru often tried to dismiss the intrusive thoughts he always had, he found himself thinking back to that very conversation when the potential scenario you had presented… ultimately became a reality for him.

he can’t think of a time in his life where he’d ever been crying harder than he is now; his brain felt like it was slamming into his cranium with every shake of his head. every time he tried to deny the situation at hand, to refuse to process the words leaving your lips, his head throbbed with a dull ache he may never be rid of.

“i— i can’t—” he hiccups, lifting his arm to furiously wipe at the tears spilling over his lash lines with the sleeve of his shirt. he’s on his knees, his trembling hands covered in blood— in your blood. he’s staring at the gaping wound in your side, the result of an unexpected altercation with a horde of zombies that went awry. he’s certain that suguru and shoko are somewhere behind him, but his sense of direction gets skewed when it feels like the world is spinning too fast for him to catch up.

“sator—” you croaked, trying to speak, but every word that left your lips was joined by a violent coughing fit. satoru let out another broken wail at the wet sound of your cough; he feels like he’s going to throw up.

“please…” he choked out, his voice cracking at the end of the word. “please— please don’t make me do this, i— i can’t do this to you, please. i need you.”

his begging was futile. he knew it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to your wounds, the infection spreading through your system until it reached your brain. by then you’d already be dead, and you’d become something so sinister satoru thinks he might actually pass out at just the mere thought.

“‘toru…” you heaved, blinking up at him through your own tears. your entire body was in pain, every nerve in your system lit up with the infection making its way through you. satoru was squeezing your hand so tightly it was the only part of your body that felt numb to everything, almost painless. “you have to… you— you promised.”

“i— i know, i— fuck, i didn’t think— fuckfuckfuck!” he curses as the gravity of the situation dawns on him all over again. his free hand tugs at his hair, staining the snowy white a crimson red color.

it all happened too fast— way too fast for any of them to truly process. upon getting attacked by a horde, satoru feels your little group of 4 start to split up within the night to tackle them. he felt your hand slip out of his grasp and that’s really when the panic started to settle in; it was all too familiar. the fear and the dejavú crawled up his throat, he found it so hard to just breathe.

suguru was the first one he heard screaming for help. on pure instinct satoru stopped his search for you through the bush of the trees and whipped his head around, running towards the source of the noise as fast as his feet could carry him. he found suguru surrounded by 4 zombies, maybe 5– it was too dark in the forest to tell. suguru’s gun was fresh out of ammo and he’d tripped on his feet, he was cornered.

satoru knew he had to act fast. if he heard suguru’s yells, that means the rest of the horde may very well have heard him too.

as he’s crossing the distance between him and the other man, that’s when he hears your voice. satoru’s heart jumps out of his throat then, seeing you reach suguru faster than he could. you helped suguru up off the ground and fended off the zombies nearest you, but the anxiety was still bubbling in satoru’s stomach, threatening to boil over.

for one, something was wrong with suguru… his gun had fallen to the ground and he was clutching his arm, a pained expression adorning his features as he stood behind you. you were defending yourself decently enough, but the zombies were moving too fast to fight them off all on your own.

satoru fumbles for the gun in his holster and he pulls it out, right as his view of you gets blocked by another incoming zombie. he’s still making his way over, all of this is only happening within a matter of a few seconds—

two shots ring out, and the undead bodies fall to the ground. satoru can see you now, still standing by suguru, still fighting with all your might. his vision is so zeroed in on you he doesn’t even register shoko appearing beside him, readying her own weapons to help satoru rescue the two of you.

by the time they reach you two, satoru feels it in his gut before you’ve even said anything. the look on your face, on suguru’s face— it’s not right. something is wrong.

and before satoru could even ask, suguru was falling to his knees.

“m— my arm, shit,” suguru cursed, and satoru physically felt the blood draining from his face. suguru had been scratched pretty badly, just above his elbow, and the infection was spreading through his arm quickly. satoru hears shoko splutter; she mutters something unintelligible, and then immediately moves to suguru’s side.

satoru spares a nervous glance at you, and the look on your own face does nothing to ease his nerves.

“it’s not too late.”

shoko’s voice comes in almost instantly. “we— we have to amputate,” and before anyone could protest it she’s already aligning her machete right above his shoulder bone, gripping the handle tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. “fuck, suguru— just, hold on… we can still save you…”

shoko’s moving fast. satoru’s response is a little delayed but he eventually threw himself down to press his entire body weight on suguru’s chest, holding his head to the side and rolling up suguru’s shirt. “here, bite down on this,” his voice is unsteady, but he places the cloth between suguru’s teeth and soothes the panic suguru is already feeling.

it all happened so fast. within a matter of minutes, satoru was split up from the rest of the group, running towards the sound of suguru’s cries, finding you with suguru— and now shoko was driving her machete through the bone of his shoulder with all the force she could muster.

the cry that left suguru’s lips was like nothing he’d ever heard before. if not for the way satoru had been holding him down, suguru’s violent thrashing would have made the cut a lot less cleaner than it actually was. shoko’s precise hit made it easy to tear the infected limb, all flesh and bone, clean off his body.

and as she’s removing her jacket to wrap around the gaping hole in suguru’s shoulder, applying as much pressure as she can to control the bleeding, satoru hears you behind him.

“s’toru…” your voice comes out shaky— and in an instant satoru is on his feet, turning around and running towards you just as you, too, fell to your knees.

“no…” he shakes his head, cradling you in his arms as he sets you down gently on the ground. “noooo, no, no, no, no, no…”

satoru’s hands go to your sides, holding you close to him, searching your face for answers, and that’s when he feels it— the wetness, oozing from your waist, all thick and warm. it’s your own blood.

somehow, while trying to save suguru, a zombie had gotten to you before satoru could. the deep, lengthy scratch marks on your abdomen were an indication of how late satoru was.

and now here he was, crying his heart out, kneeling at your side, replaying that damned conversation a million times in his head. he told you that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, but this? killing you with his own gun so that your body is not claimed by the infection currently taking over your system?

…how can anyone expect him to go through with this?

his sobs were ugly and they were so loud, shoko kept frantically looking around to see if there were anymore zombies in the area— all while she’s cradling a weak and barely conscious suguru to her own chest.

satoru thinks shoko calls his name then, but he can’t hear it past the throbbing in his head. this can’t be happening.

satoru sees your hand moving towards him, and his sobs die down for a moment. he blinks past the tears and he sees you reach towards his abdomen, trying to grab the gun in it’s holster—

“wait, wait…” he croaks, his voice wavering under the weight of his own emotions. by pure instinct, he wants to stop you; wants to angle his hips away from your grasp— but he feels completely frozen on the spot. he sees you pull out the gun and shakily place it in his free hand, and another wave of hot tears spill out of his eyes.

he shakes his head again. it starts off slow, and then he’s entirely frantic with the way he bends over your body, sobs wracking through him so harshly that it shakes him to his very core.

and then he feels your hand, it’s wet from your blood sweat and tears— but it’s so warm. you feel so warm, you always did. you cup his cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his tear-stained eyes.

another whimper breaks past his lips when you swipe your thumb over his cheekbone, probably smearing some of your blood on his face, but you’re honestly only trying to wipe away some of his tears. this thought crosses his mind very briefly, and he can’t help it then— a small, choked laugh bubbles out of his mouth.

“i know, i know,” you can’t help laughing with him, even through your own tears. “i’m getting my blood all over you, you look like such a mess.”

he laughs wetly again, his shaky smile only growing with yours. the hand still squeezing yours is lifted up to his face, and he presses his lips on the back of your hand for a long moment. he holds it there, closing his eyes when he feels that lump coming up his throat again, threatening to break the smile you alone brought to his face.

and after that, he kisses you. he grabs your face with both of his hands and kisses you with all his might, trying not to let another sob slip past his lips as he does so. he commits it to memory— the soft feeling of your trembling lips, the way you kiss him back. how you place your nimble hands over his, slotting your fingers in the spaces between his own.

he tries to remember this; to remember you. for everything you’ve ever done for him, every emotion you’ve ever made him feel and every smile you’ve shown him. he wants to remember you for the way you lived, not the way you died.

and though he can barely see through his own tears, he has to be the one to do it. with one final look, one final kiss, one final i love you—

he slowly stands, and aims. he uses both hands to steady the weapon; he can’t afford to miss. he inhales deeply, closes his eyes— and he pulls the trigger.

a loud shot rings out in his ears.

satoru can hear his heartbeat, beating stronger and faster than ever. it’s like the beat of a drum playing in his ears, over and over again, making him lose his sense of direction. it’s dizzying. he drops the gun in his hands when it starts to overwhelm him, frantic eyes blinking rapidly, completely avoiding you. he hears his heartbeat get louder as everything seems to fade to white around him, and then it’s all dark again…

there’s a voice, somewhere. echoing in the back of his head. it starts out small, far away. he’d assumed it to be shoko’s, somewhere behind him; but as it steadily grows, he thinks— it almost sounds like…

…

…

“…satoru!”

satoru jolts up in his bed with a gasp so loud it makes the dog across the room bark. he already feels the sweat breaking out through his shirt, his entire body shaking with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. he can’t see, why can’t he see anything?

“sa…., c…. ..down, …here. br..., …oru, breathe.”

the words spoken were fading in and out of his ears, and he has to blink several times before his vision finally comes into focus. never before has he ever woken up in such a state of panic, there was not a single time in his life where he’s felt so— so…

“satoru…” there it is again, that voice… he feels something cup his cheek, something warm and soft and grounding. the sensation introduces a familiar urge to close his eyes again, to lean into the touch so that his heart can go back to business as usual.

“there, there,” you cooed softly, swiping your thumb over his cheekbone as he finally started to come down from his panic. “you’re okay, satoru, it was just a bad dream…”

it took another minute or two for the quickened rate of his breathing to slow to a steady rhythm, and by the time his eyes fluttered back open, the exhaustion on his face was heartbreakingly prominent in the near-pitch darkness of your shared bedroom.

his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark once more, but the moment they did he was met with a look of worry in your eyes— the very ones he catches himself getting lost in more often than not.

“did it… happen this time?” you asked carefully, chewing on your lower lip when you felt him briefly tense up beside you.

satoru’s nightmares weren’t anything new. he’d been having them on and off for the last couple of weeks, ever since the incident.

to be fair, almost everything about his nightmares were consistent with reality— the 4 of you were caught off guard by a horde. you had all split up when the sheer amount of the undead became too much for you all to handle. suguru got cornered and had to get his arm amputated right along his shoulder bone.

the only difference is that a zombie didn’t actually tear at your gut. it’d gotten damn close; you felt the light tug on your shirt in the heat of the moment, and the stain of decayed biological matter left behind on the tee was proof of that. but you were never injured, never infected. you were still alive.

you were here, sitting up in bed next to satoru, cradling his tear-stained face after waking him up from the umpteenth nightmare. the ones he’d had up until this point were all more-or-less the same. they followed the same events, but only ever got as far as you pulling the gun out of satoru’s holster before the nauseating amount of emotional distress ripped him out of his slumber. other times, you’d been the one to pull him out, feeling and hearing him toss and turn every other night with a deep furrow in his brows.

by asking him if it happened this time, you were asking if his nightmare had actually gotten far enough for his subconscious to simulate himself actually committing the act of taking your own life before the infection could.

he doesn’t answer for a moment, but the way his lower lip wobbled with the emotions starting to weigh on his heart again was enough of a confirmation.

“it— it was,” his voice sounds hoarse and so, so small. he’s no stranger to vulnerability when it comes to you, but right now he’s having a hard time putting into words just how utterly shattered his heart feels. “it felt so real, i don’t— i don’t know…”

satoru trails off, letting his gaze travel down your face, following the outline of your arm before finally spotting your free hand. he slides his hand over yours— carefully tracing his fingertips over your knuckles, mapping out a route he already memorized a long time ago.

he slips his fingers around the base of your palm and squeezes hard. in his anxious, exhausted state, he’s having trouble deciphering what’s reality. he just needed to make sure.

“‘toru,” you murmured softly, tilting your head when you picked up on his hesitation. you rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone again, gently guiding his face to tilt upwards. “sweetheart, look at me.”

not even a second later, he does. he meets your gaze again and you couldn’t help it, then— the corners of your lips twitched upwards, threatening to break out into a small smile of light amusement. you leaned forward, softly pressing your lips to his in the most gentle kiss you could muster. he kissed you back with a split second of desperation before it melted into a lazy little peck. he’s exhausted.

his eyes remain closed when you pulled back after a few seconds, only momentarily opening when you both began to lay back again. the second his head hit the pillow his arms were slinking around you, pulling you as close as physically possible to his chest. any other night it would’ve been mildly smothering, but not tonight.

tonight, you hugged him back just as tightly. tonight, he buried his face in your hair as he’d done so many times before, wrapping himself fully around your body and letting your scent lull him back to sleep. tonight, you whispered your love to him in a candied tone, hoping the words seared into his brain just long enough for his subconscious to base his dreams on an i love you instead of a goodbye. you whispered affirmations that you were still here, that you weren’t going anywhere, that nothing would ever separate you two.

that he still had you, and you him.

heh.. SIKE!!!!!! 🤣🤣🫵🏼 they all lived b*tch B)

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FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru

girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!

satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well

“come on, my life — say it”

satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—

“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.

this has been going on for the past few weeks.

your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.

“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”

lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”

okay, you shrugged and backed off.

and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.

after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)

but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.

it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...

all of a sudden,

the doorbell rings.

“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.

it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.

“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.

“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…

…at nanami.

a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…

she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.

she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—

“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.

silence in the kitchen befalls.

you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.

“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”

p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !

satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.

you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.

your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.

‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’

it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.

satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.

he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.

“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.

you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.

“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.

you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.

. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.

he understands why you’re feeling that way.

the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.

perhaps they need to be reminded once more.

satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.

the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”

“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.

“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”

satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.

“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.

it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.

satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.

the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.

your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.

satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.

he wants to make it up to you, somehow.

once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.

satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.

that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.

“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.

“thank you.”

it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.

your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.

“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.

“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.

you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.

sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.

“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.

without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.

the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.

his want and need for you.

satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.

“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.

he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.

“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.

his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.

“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.

your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.

you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.

the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.

satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.

“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”

your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.

your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .

you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.

your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;

“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”