#13 With Geto Pleeease!!

#13 with Geto pleeease!!

Playing with his hair

Geto x reader fluff

A/n: This has to be one of the fav things ive written. It makes me upset to know that none of my fluff pieces will ever really get as much recognition as my smut works. Im not saying this is bad or im ungrateful or really anything else other then the fact that I wish my stories got more recognition. Thats all. Other wise im so happy for all the support ive been given! Thank you!

Prompt: He kissed you. Without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn't have done anything else. He. needed that breath you were holding. It belongs to him, and he wanted it back.

Warnings: Pre!Cursed jujutsu tech Geto, mentions of marriage, established relationship pure fluff

Synopsis: In which you play with geto's hair

~

Silky raven strands of hair ran through your fingers like water and your silent hums of contempt filled your surroundings with a relaxed ambience.

“How's it looking back there doll?”

You bit your lip and leaned back to gaze at your work. Though the lower half remained unfinished, Getos thick hair hung loosely in a large fishtail braid that reached to the bottom of his shoulder blades. The sight of your progress made you grin and you patted yourself on your back for achieving such a feat of accomplishments. It wasn’t like your boyfriend's hair was unruly or knotty by any means, in fact Getos hair always looked like it was straight out of a pantene commercial.It's just that there was so much of it. But there was something tranquil about threading your fingers through his locks and Geto felt no different; often falling asleep while you scratched and kneaded his head with your nimble fingers

“My best work yet!” You affirmed and Geto let out a chuckle at your prideful statement.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence on the engawa of the traditional Japanese built Jujutsu school dorm, bathing in the warm sun of the spring afternoon. Next to you sat a small pile of carefully picked plum blossoms you had started to use as decorations for Getos braid. As you parted another section of hair, Geto’s hand caught yours that was behind his ear and softly kissed your skin, making you giggle.

“You know i'm not going to be able to finish my masterpiece with just one hand right?”

“Mmh I know~” Gets lazily hummed and continues to place his lips on the tips of each or your tiny fingers.

Though his back was faced toward you, you could clearly see the image of his sly smile in your head. You sighed and decided to climb over his back, landing in getos lap with a ‘oof’.

“You know you could’ve just walked around like a normal person.” Geto teased. He knew how obsessed you were with the size difference between the two of you, so scaling his body like a monkey was an often occurrence. You also always asked Geto to place his palm against yours just to see how big his hands were and your reaction never failed to entertain. In truth, Geto  was just as fascinated with the size difference as well.  You were just so small compared to him. So breakable. And all his. You’re the perfect juxtaposition against him.

“That way is more fun.” You reassured confidently, making Geto chuckle. A pair of hands came to cup your face and pull you into a warm kiss. The kiss was without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it because he couldn't have done anything else. He needed that breath you were holding. It belongs to him, and he wanted it back. At this point Geto didn't even have to swipe his tongue on your lower lip to ask permission, you just willingly allowed him to take your breath away, it wasn't like you needed it anyway.

"Why do you smell so good?" He mumbles, moving to leave a trail of light kisses along your jawline, under your chin. “It's driving me crazy.”

“I’ve been stealing your soaps when I come over.” You tell him and he raises an eyebrow.

“So that's why i’ve been running out so fast.” He notes and you blush. “I’ll buy more for the both of us then.”

~

After a couple minutes passed, Geto’s head was now buried in the crook of your neck while you slowly ran your fingers through his hair; disassembling the braid.

“I'm gonna have to go back soon y’know, I still have laundry to do.”

Geto simply hums in response and you continue on talking. The two of you often had moments like this, where he’d let you ramble on about life while he simply basked in your presence, listening to every word.

“I could barely sleep too, the walls are so thin and I had to listen to Haibara rambling on the phone till 12.” You lightly laugh and Geto revels in the way your body vibrates as you do so.

“Mhm is that so.” His voice came out muffled and his words blend together in a sleepy like manner.

“I didn't have the guts to tell him to turn it down. He is just so nice to me, I would’ve felt bad...”

“Mhm…..very interesting…..” You took note of the light sarcasm in Getos words and rolled your eyes.

“Hey, I'm being serious!”

“And I'm giving you my undivided attention, now what was that again?” You could feel Geto slightly grinning against your neck while his fingers sneakily went under your shirt to hold your hips and pet your skin with his thumb.

You huffed. “I was just complaining about my room, that's all.”

A warm gentle breeze passed, causing the leaves on the bushes and trees nearby to rustle against each other like maracas. There was a minute of peaceful silence of just laying in eachothers arms, before Geto spoke again. The nearby thump of a hollow bamboo water fountain against a rock breaks the serene silence.

“Why don't you move in with me now?” His voice remained calm and deep, still laced with the drowsiness that came with sleep.”You're going to be living with me at some point anyways.”

“I am? Why is that?”

“Because,”  Geto yawned, still speaking with his eyes closed in contempt. You can feel the way his nose brushes against your skin and how his warm breath dances on your skin. “I'm going to marry you.”

Your eyes widen at the statement and you run the sentence over and over again in your head, leaving you speechless.

“I-what?” You gently push Geto so the two of you are face to face and you can look in his eyes for any sign of sarcasm or playfulness. He stares right back at you and chuckles.

“Hm what’s the problem princess, you didn't think I was already thinking about stuff like this?”

“No I just….” You breathe and take him in, really take Geto Suguru in. Take in the way he looks at you, how his long black hair frames his face, the same shade as his earrings, the way the sunlight softly alights his skin in beautiful honey tones and the way his smiles at you so patiently and knowingly.

Then you find that you're smiling as well, a stupidly big smile that makes your cheeks hurt, and in that moment, you feel like you might die of happiness.

“I think that's wonderful” You tell him

"Do you?" Geto grins. "How interesting."

And you nod, over and over again.

Your fingers move to push his black bangs behind his ear and Geto closes his eyes for a second upon your touch. Similes slightly, his cheek dimpled on one side. He looks thoughtful now.

“And why are you so thrilled?” He asks, trying not to laugh. “You look like you're about to explode baby.” And you dont doubt that you could.

"I want you to be happy." You tell him without much thought. Your eyes searching his. "I want you to have a family. I want you to be surrounded by people who care about you, I want to give all that to you,” you say. “You deserve that.” You last words come out like a silent prayer. The hold both of Geto’s hands has on your hips tightens, and the way his thumbs rub on your skin sends shudders across your body.

"I have you," Geto says, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes shut.

"You should have more than me,"

"No.” he whispers. he shakes his head. His nose grazes yours. “You’ll ruin me if you love me anymore. Is that what you want? To ruin me?”

“Yes. I want to ruin you.” You hum

“Good,” He says. “I want that too.”

my best friend. my one and only.

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐅𝐔𝐋 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔.

in his six years of parenting—that he’s done all by himself, he might add—gojo satoru has never thought he’d see the day. but here’s megumi, standing before him and shyly pointing to a small arrangement of roses. long gone is his snarky, sarcastic, ruthless son—instead, now he’s blushing, staring up at gojo hopefully.

“what’d you say you needed these for?” he raises a brow at the boy, and megumi huffs, cheeks turning a deeper shade of crimson as he looks away bashfully.

“to give them to someone,” he mumbles, “it’s valentine’s day.”

gojo blinks, and then his lips twitch, and then he’s full on smiling. it’s the big, eye crinkling, nose twitching, and cheek stretching kind—except there’s a hint of smugness to it.

“so,” he wriggles his brows, crouching to his son’s height. he has to crouch rather low, given his towering height in comparison. “you got a crush, huh? what’s she like? she must be one hell of an angel to put up with a stinker like you,” he pinches the spikey haired boy’s nose.

megumi crinkles it in distaste, scowling at his father’s tendencies to insist on being the most insufferable man he’s known—and he’s not personally gotten to know a lot of grown men in his six years of life.

“she’s nice,” he crosses his arms, “and she’s not annoying like you.”

“hey,” gojo pouts, eyeing a worker in the flower shop that chuckles at the jab thrown at his expense, “i’m a catch. you wouldn’t get it, no one likes dicks—i mean, jerks like you,” he corrects himself, praying the six year old devil before him doesn’t pick up on the colorful words he tends to let slip.

gojo satoru loves his son.

well, megumi might not really be his son, but that doesn’t matter. he’s raised the boy since he was an infant, and he’s his son if gojo’s got something to say about it.

and gojo never pictured himself a single father in his early twenties, yet here he is—and he doesn’t think he’d ever look back. and sure, they have a bit of a push and pull relationship, but still, gojo pretends like he doesn’t know megumi crawls into his bed some nights and snuggles into his side, and he’s sure megumi looks the other way when he sniffles a little every time the boy’s height is a bit taller on the kitchen wall he marks it on.

“whatever,” the child grumbles, eyeing his little batman watch on his wrist, “can we get going soon? i don’t want to be late.”

gojo stifles a chuckle, ruffling megumi’s hair before grabbing the bouquet he’d picked out.

“alright, you little booger,” he walks up the the register, “lets get you a valentine so you don’t die alone.”

and because he’s a doting father, he simply bites his tongue and fights back the eye twitch when he sees the bill—who knew a small bouquet for a six year old could be so expensive?

“so,” gojo whispers, nudging the six year old’s shoulder gently, “which one is the unlucky kid you’re into? point ‘em out—but don’t be obvious okay? don’t let—”

megumi raises a brow, unimpressed before shyly pointing a small finger in your direction.

gojo blinks, looking to the right of you, then the left, and then he’s craning his neck to see if there’s anyone behind you.

nobody.

“you’re kidding right?” he asks flatly, turning back to his son.

“no,” he megumi grumbles, glaring up at his father.

“a teacher? you have a thing for a teacher? megumi, you can’t—hey! where are you going?”

megumi’s made a beeline for you, flowers clutched in his small hands as he walks away, and gojo follows swiftly, shocked to his core. none of the parenting tips on google ever had a suggestion for this, and he’s starting to think he didn’t do his research thoroughly enough.

“megumi, give me your flowers,” he whispers, looping his finger into the small handle of megumi’s backpack and pulling him back.

“why?”

“because i need them,” gojo insists, eyeing your figure up and down—it makes it a lot easier to not seem like a creep when you’re constantly wearing dark sunglasses. gojo thinks at least megumi’s got good taste, he can certainly see the appeal.

you’re perfect—your smile is radiant, sweet, it makes learning fractions seem like a fun activity. you turn and see them approaching, throwing a beam at the small child in front of him, and gojo pouts just the slightest bit that he doesn’t elicit such a response from you.

“hi, megumi! is this your father?” you wave cheerily at the small boy, and for the second time ever, megumi gets shy again. he nods, and gojo stares with his mouth slightly agape.

“yeah,” he mumbles quietly. “this is my dad. he’s a little weird sometimes,” he warns, and gojo sputters, staring at his traitor son with wide eyes.

“hi,” you smile warmly, holding a hand out for gojo to shake, “i’m megumi’s new teacher—his old one left,” you explain, and gojo nods, though he’s not sure he’s processed any of what you’d just said.

you’re pretty, and your voice is even prettier.

“i’m gojo satoru, megumi’s father,” he introduces himself, “and i’m not weird,” he explains through an awkward chuckle, shooting a glare at the mop of dark locks beside him.

megumi shoots back daggers his way, and before anything else can be done or said, gojo snatches the flowers from megumi’s hands and holds them out for you.

“hey—”

“here ya go,” gojo grins, flashing you his most charming smile. your knees buckle just a little bit, but you will yourself to take the small bouquet from the extremely attractive man in front of you. “here’s a little welcoming present for ya, for dealing with this handful here,” gojo grins widely at you as he points to the child next to him.

“thank you,” you beam, “but megumi is a very sweet child, he’s always on his best behavior.” said child beams at the praise, and even though a small part of gojo is proud to hear it, another part of him wants to roll his eyes.

“he’s nothing like that at home, don’t be fooled,” he flicks megumi’s forehead, and if not for you watching, he’s sure it would’ve landed him a bite to his finger from megumi.

he thinks he wants you around all the time if that’s the case.

and megumi’s face is puffed up in pure rage as he latches onto gojo’s leg—gojo tries his best not to wince from nails digging into his thigh.

“but it was my idea—”

“megumi insisted that i welcome you,” gojo interrupts with a chuckle, “he’s a thoughtful kid. i raised him to always put others first, you know?”

you blink before nodding slowly, eyeing the two as they seem to have a battle with each other through harsh stares.

“oh, uh…of course,” you say finally, “that was very thoughtful of the both of you.”

and you don’t know much about gojo, but you can instantly tell he’s just as much of a handful as his son. even so, something about it is as endearing as his smile. and maybe it’s a tad bit unprofessional to form a small crush on a student’s father—one you just met no less, but gojo satoru has a charm to him that’s hard to resist.

“well, you let me know if megumi gives you any trouble, he can be feisty when he wants—” he’s cut off by a sneeze, and gojo looks at you as you sniffle lightly. he’s only known you for five minutes, but even the sound of your sneeze makes his heart rate speed up, and he wonders if raising a (mean) kid for six years has really made him this lonely.

“sorry,” you chuckle quietly, sniffling once more. “i’m allergic to flowers.”

suddenly, megumi beams, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the direction of your classroom. “i told him not to do flowers, but he’s stubborn,” megumi explains, and gojo stares as his own son turns and sticks his tongue out at him with a smirk. “bye dad! see you after school,” he waves.

standing there and watching your face tug with a grin as you giggle, gojo waves slowly at the both of you as you walk off.

“okay noted,” he mumbles, ghost of a pout curling on his lips while his shoulders slump in defeat, “no flowers next time.”

BONUS:

“megumi, your teacher is way too old for you kiddo, you should let me have a shot—”

“my teacher is too pretty for you,” megumi grumbles, glaring at his father, “you’re ugly.”

gasping, gojo places a hand on his chest with hurt, pouting deeply. sometimes, megumi is left to wonder if his father is fit to raise a child when he’s too busy acting like one himself.

“now that’s just mean, i’ll have you know i was quite a favorite amongst the—”

“and you talk a lot. and you look old cause your hair is white,” megumi mumbles as he walks off to the pantry to grab a snack, and gojo stands at the doorway with a wounded pride and a backpack to carry up to megumi’s room himself.

ty ris for beta reading and for your big brain ideas sobsobsob

also this is not canon accurate before anyone starts

“a burning hill” by mitski

nap time with dad nanamin!!

it never was you

PAIRING ✩ kim seokjin x reader fluff, a bit of angst w.c. approx. 1.5k ♫ it never was you - judy garland

As autumn leaves fall, so does the thought of you in my head.

So, on a sunny Saturday morning, I used your mug instead of mine.

“Jagi! Look there’s an antique store!”

As I drag him into the store, we both look in awe of the hundreds of trinkets and once treasures of people we will never know. Will any of Seokjin and I’s things end up in a place like this? And if they do, would anyone care to take it home with them? Out of my reverie, I turn to look at Seokjin who has taken interest in a mug that was made to look like it was melting.

“I love it.” He says.

“Me too. It screams you.” And after a beat of silence, we look at each other and laugh. “We should find one for you.” He then lists the most outrageous things a mug can be; shaped like a mouth so it would look entertaining when I hold it up to mine and drink from it, or maybe a toilet bowl would be nice.

And so, we get lost in the aisles of the store, our list of groceries long forgotten. But after a while, everything I pick up and show him doesn’t seem to be enough.

“I’m beginning to lose hope.” He looks back at me in a flash, with those eyes of his that tells me I’m about to receive a lecture.

“Don’t! We’re are not gonna leave until we find you the perfect mug. Sometimes things lead us into unexpected journeys that we should take, not because we have to reach the end goal, but for what it could teach us, y’know? Like now, aren’t we having so much fun laughing at the weirdest things and what its previous owners could’ve been like? So, when we find that mug of yours, and we bring it home, whenever you’ll use it, you’ll remember this day. The day we weren’t able to get any groceries because you dragged us in here. The day we had so much fun. I’m having so much fun with you. Right now, right here. Aren’t you?”

“You’re unbelievable.” I link my arms on his shoulders and pull him close to me. “I don’t know if that was romantic, or plain annoying how you could say so much about the most ordinary things.” I laugh and peck him on the cheek.

“Well, it’s my charm. It’s why you fell in love with me in the first place.” He starts to brag. And as if there were still space between us, we pull each other impossibly close. Seokjin starts to squint his eyes on something behind me, then ever so graciously pushes me off and rushes off.

“I found it!” He holds up a cat mug, with its tail acting as the handle. The cat isn’t cute. It looks evil like the stepmother’s cat from Cinderella. But with Seokjin holding it up so high with the brightest smile on his face, it was the most beautiful mug in the world.

When I got ready, I used that yellow sweater of yours that you really like.

Right after dinner, Seokjin’s mother hands him a big blue box with tied with a bright red bow. “Happy Birthday, my son!” along with a kiss on the cheek. He thanks her and unwraps it right away. He pulls out a fluffy knit oversized sweater. The majority of the sweater was mustard yellow, but towards the bottom it starts to fade into a pastel yellow.

“Mom! I love it! Did you make this?” He screams while hugging her. “Yes. Thought, it took me a while since I wasn’t sure how big you’ve grown.”

“Well, that means we’ll visit often so you’d know.” I chip in. Seokjin’s mother looks at me with adoration and holds my hands. “I would love that.”

And on that very night, he wears the sweater to sleep, saying “It’s cold, and I don’t have any other clothes left.” We’re in his family home. He brought a suitcase. Pretty sure there were enough clothes for him here for a month.

When we got back to Seoul, he would wear it to work every other week. And even on the days when we stayed in and cuddled. By that point the sweater’s sleeves had gone so loose, I could fit my arms right in and Seokjin would still be able to move.

On my way to work, I listened to your songs even though I always fought you for it.

“Seokjin-ah, I love you. But can you please play anything else other than Coldplay?”

“No.”

I reach for his phone and he slaps my hand away. “I’m driving, it’s my music.”

“Pleaaaaase! If you let me play the music, I swear I’ll play Coldplay every ten songs.” He looks at me with doubt, and I try my very best to muster pleading eyes.

“Make it two.” He argues.

“What?! How ‘bout eight?”

“Four?”

“Seven?”

“Four.”

“Five!”

“Fine.” I cheer and connect my phone. True to my word, I did play a Coldplay song every five songs. Soon enough, we arrive at our destination.

“You know…” He starts, and I look at him questioningly.

“I would’ve agreed at ten. I just wanted to rile you up.” I hit his shoulder and he laughs. When we get out of the car, he quickly comes to my side. He holds my hand and gives it a kiss. And in my head, I decide not telling him I don’t mind Coldplay.

And when I’m about to drift into slumber, I embrace my teddy bear tightly.

The lights and noise of the fair started to drown out whatever Seokjin was saying. It was my first time going to something like this and I was amazed. Food booths and game booths were littered everywhere, the screams of people on the rides, everything was new and exciting. And so was my relationship with Seokjin. We have been dating for only three months, and so far, it’s been really good. He treats me well, and every conversation we have is smooth. I really think this one might just last.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and look over to see Seokjin’s worried face. “Are you okay? Is it too much? We can leave if you want to, it’s no-” I stop him and assure him everything’s fine, that I was just taking it all in. He tells me again that we can leave whenever I feel uncomfortable. Seokjin is really sweet.

He holds my hand tightly and we walk along the booths. We opt to try out some food first so we could walk out the grease and sugar from the fair foods. And as soon as we do that, we try out some game booths, one of which was a ring toss. In cliché date fashion, Seokjin promises to win me the huge bear hanging on the booth that may only be five inches shorter than me. I challenge him and say the same.

“Alright, bet. Let’s see who wins first.”

“It’ll be me, by the way. Just letting you know ahead of time.”

“Oh? Is that so? You’re too confident for your own good.”

The young girl manning the booth looks between us and laughs to herself. She gives us the rings and explains the instructions. As soon as it starts, Seokjin tries his best accompanied with shouts that rivals that of those on the rollercoaster. Though, on my side, I wasn’t also doing well. I was so close to just throwing the rings at the bottles to shatter them. Out of desperation, I nudge Seokjin just to throw him off-balance.

“Yah! Stop cheating!” The young girl starts to worry whether we’re about to destroy her booth and make her lose a job. I go on with the game and win. Seokjin gives me a glare as the girl hands me a bear, not the huge one that looks like it could eat me, but a slightly smaller version with a yellow bowtie.

“He’s ugly. You guys deserve each other.” He jokes. “Really now? I was just thinking how he looks just like you!” I tease him more about being a sore loser, he teases me for being a cheater.

And just from that moment on, I knew my life was about to become brighter, and I started to pray to whatever god was out there in the universe to let me keep him.

Sunday morning has come, too slowly for my liking. I hope the days start to blend into each other, until the day of your return comes as a surprise, as if I wasn't counting every day, minute, and second.

Day after day of trying to imitate your warmth, your joy, and your love, I was nowhere close. All of this, everything, anything; but it never was you. It never was anywhere you.