Everything Was Perfect.

Everything was perfect. 

"You may kiss the bride." 

Your rosy lips turn upward in a lovesick smile, arms lifting to wrap around Gojo's neck and bring his face closer to yours, the tips of your noses brushing against one another as his arms loop around your waist. With one hand, he holds your waist, and with the other, he slowly begins to lift your leg, hooking it over his hip and dipping you down.  

You let out a tearful giggle, the sound mixing with Gojo's chuckle as he slots his lips against yours, pouring years of love and adoration into a singular kiss. You squeeze your arms around him to steady yourself, smiling against his lips as they move against your own.  

You pull back from him just as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, no doubt wanting to shamelessly make out with you in front of an audience. But with your family sitting somewhere in the crowd, one of you had to demonstrate self-control.  

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Gojo," Gojo whispers, his breath fanning over your lips as he continues to hold you close. You dive forward, pecking his lips again. He smiles at you, tearful aquamarine eyes crinkling at the corners as he stares down at you; his little wife. 

Everything was perfect. 

"I'm home!" Gojo announces as he kicks his shoes off, turning his body halfway to close the front door and peering around the dim-lighted living room. His eyebrows furrow, arms slapping against his sides as he realizes that you're not running to him to embrace him.  

Slowly, he walks further into the house, curiously peering into the kitchen only to be met with the sight of nothing. Worry sinks into his chest, but he doesn't allow himself to get worked up just yet.  

"Honey?" Gojo's voice is a quiet whisper as he enters the living room, eyes met with a heartwarming sight; you're sat in the center of the couch, arms wound around a sleeping Megumi. The boy leans impossibly further into your side, his head tucked comfortably into the crook of your neck with his body splayed over your own like a weighted blanket.  

His lips turn upward in a soft smile, hand reaching for his phone to photograph the moment and commit it to memory. But just as his fingers brush his phone, something tells him to instead live in the moment as opposed to capturing it.  

Gojo moves to kneel silently beside the couch, reaching out his index finger and lovingly stroking it against your cheek, smiling to himself as your nose scrunches up and you stir slightly. Those eyes that he could spend hours gazing into flutter open, a sleepy smile curling the corners of your lips upward.  

"Hi 'Toru," you whisper, yawning.  

"Hi pretty girl." 

Everything was perfect. 

"Satoru Gojo!" 

Gojo pauses, every bone in his body stilling as he slowly turns to look over his shoulder, swallowing his pride (and dignity) as you stomp over, Megumi not far behind. Gojo glances quickly at Yuuji and Nobara, silently asking them for help – but immediately the two first-years look around, not wanting to stand in the way of your wrath.  

"Hey honey," Gojo says with a smile, already feeling sweat build up against his forehead as you grow closer, eyes flaring with an anger that he had only ever seen once before – and honestly, he had no idea how he had even survived. "What's – uh – what's going on?" 

"What's going on?! You mean to tell me that you're going to stand there and act like nothing is wrong?" Your voice raises an octave or two in volume, making Gojo cringe and shrink in on himself. It was almost entertaining, really. Watching the 6'3 Special Grade Sorcerer be reduced to a shaking mess at the sight of his angered wife.  

Gojo remains silent, not wanting to respond in the fear that you would bite his head off.  

The staring contest between yourself and Gojo is tense, only made worse by the other pairs of eyes that watch quietly from the sidelines.  

Yuuji shifts closer to Megumi, craning his neck just low enough to whisper into his ear, "What's going on?" 

Megumi only smirks, lifting his arms to cross them over his chest. "He ate her leftovers last night." 

Everything was perfect... 

"I understand that your work is important, but you're barely home anymore," you say desperately, closing Megumi's bedroom door and turning on your heel to glance at Gojo. He rubs his hands against his face, skin catching the groan that falls from his lips. 

"I can't just say no to what the higher-ups want me to do, honey. You know that," Gojo responds, not failing to notice how your teeth catch your bottom lip, roughly biting down into the supple skin.  

"You have a family here 'Toru. Your missions are getting more and more dangerous and I – I don't want to be sitting on the couch one day and you just," you pause to swallow the growing lump in your throat, "don't come home." 

Gojo softens, his heart hammering in his chest as he stares silently down at you. Your eyes shine with tears, tears that he desperately wants to reach out and brush away – but something inside of him tells him not to.  

"Megumi needs you here. Hell, I need you here," you say desperately, laying a palm flat against your chest as you step forward to close the distance between yourself and Gojo.  

Something inside you damn near breaks as your husband takes a step back from you.  

"I know. Trust me I know. But there's only so much I can do. They need me (Y/N)," Gojo says. Immediately – the moment that those words fall from his lips – he wishes that he could fucking swallow them.  

You freeze, body standing rigid as your eyes blankly stare at him. Any ounce of emotion, anything that might have made you human is suddenly gone, replaced instead by a robotic stare that chills Gojo down to his very core. 

Silently, you brush past him, shoulder knocking against his chest as you walk down the hallway and vanish into the living room. Gojo stares after you, turning his head towards Megumi's door and screwing his eyes shut – fuck.  

Everything was perfect...? 

"Megumi! Have you seen your mother?" Gojo asks, waving his hand wildly in the air as the raven-haired teenager turns to glance at him, raising an eyebrow in both annoyance and curiosity.  

"She just went out on a field mission, why?" 

Gojo's heart sinks, body deflating as he pockets the necklace that he had planned to give you; a heart locket with a picture from your wedding day inside of it. Megumi watches his adoptive father's shaking hands, and a pang of curiosity flows through his body, but he makes no mention of it.  

"Oh, no reason. I just wanted to give her something," Gojo answers dismissively, waving his hand at Megumi before he lets out a disappointed sigh.  

Everything was perfect? 

"I understand, I'll tell Shoko to prepare a bed now," Ichiji says with a swift nod, though it doesn't go unnoticed how he swallows the lump in his throat. He removes the phone from his ear, pressing down on its red "hang-up" button and stowing the device away in his pocket.  

Curiously, Gojo peers at the assistant manager through his blindfold, tilting his head curiously as the younger man stands from his seat, beelining for the door and disappearing into the hallway.  

The snowy-haired male stands, following closely behind Ichiji and watching as the man's back tenses, his hands curling into white-knuckled fists. What the fuck was going on? 

His breath catches in his throat as he enters the infirmary. One of the tables is occupied, the body covered by a thin white tarp that's stained with the blood of whoever lies underneath.  

Ichiji glances at Shoko, who only stares down at the stained tarp with a numb glint to her eyes. Her hand extends, fingers wrapping over the top of the tarp and lowering it to reveal who lies beneath.  

Gojo's stomach turns.  

Was everything perfect? 

Just thinking about tracing Satoru's scar.

Just lying in silence tangled in the sheets of your shared bed; your head is tucked underneath Satoru's chin, legs tangled with his own with the side of your body pressed against his own. One of your arms is tucked underneath his body while your other lays flat over his stomach.

One of his arms is wound around your waist, the other buried in your hair with his fingers running through the strands. His chest rises and falls against your cheek, his heartbeat thumping rhythmically against you – that little reminder that you needed to know that he was alive and breathing.

Your eyes flicker down to the hand that lays against Satoru, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the raised skin that circles his waist. You can feel him shudder at the simple movement, his breath catching in his throat as his tired eyes flicker down to watch your movements.

"What're you doin' pretty girl?" Satoru asks, though you don't fail to notice the slight waver of his voice.

That singular scar had become his biggest insecurity in record time, and even though you understood just why he looked at his body with disgust if he happened to catch a glimpse of it in the mirror, he was still your Satoru.

"Jus' admiring you," you answer honestly, half-lidded eyes flickering up to glance at him as you crane your neck to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. He hums, arms tightening around you as he adjusts you against his chest. He kisses the top of your head, smiling against your hair.

His breath hitches again as your thumb swipes against the scar on his body, fingertip leaving behind a searing sensation.

The backs of his eyes burn with tears, unseen by you but there nonetheless. He inhales, his breath shuddered as he buries his nose into your hair.

You crane your neck again, kissing his chin before settling back in his arms. “You’re so pretty ‘Toru.”

Satoru closes his eyes, holding you just a bit tighter — not that you notice.

“I love you angel.”

Starry Night

Sypnosis - Sitting together on a starry night...what could possibly be wrong with that picture perfect scenario?

Pairing - Satosugu x ! Female ! Reader

Warning(s) - mature themes

Word Count - 0.7k

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"'Toru? What are you still doing up?"  

The sitting man jolts, his eyes flickering to you, their bright hue dimming as you cautiously enter the living room, draped in one of his shirts. His legs spread, palms patting once, twice against his thigh in a silent invitation for you – one that you accept without hesitation.  

Your head tucks into the crook of Satoru's neck, nose inhaling his scent and committing it to memory – a pleasant mixture of sandalwood and the Earth. To you, it was comfort, it was a reminder of the home that you had built with him and Suguru.  

"The stars are nice tonight, aren't they?" Satoru comments, his arms looping around your waist, holding you against him and tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hair. You hum against him, eyes flickering to the window.  

Painted against the inky black sky are the stars that you and Satoru often watched together, laid out on a blanket on the front lawn and pointing up at them as if you had never seen them before. It was always cold during those nights, which usually resulted in Satoru tugging you against his chest, your body molding against his like a perfect little puzzle piece.  

You two would lay there for hours, simply basking in the other's presence and staring up at the flickering yellow lights that adorned the sky. Both of your trances were only broken by Suguru's softened voice, scolding you both for being out so late and commenting how you would both likely be sick by morning.  

Only then would Satoru roll up the blanket, helping you stand with gentle hands and allowing you to make your way back to the front door first. Softened aquamarine eyes watch as you beeline for Suguru's opened arms, hugging the raven-haired man and smiling brightly as gentle kisses are laid out over your face.  

"Yeah, they're nice," you mutter offhandedly, biting back the yawn that claws up your throat. Your nose scrunches up, an action that Satoru once teased you for – though he stopped once he received a loving smack from Suguru, one paired with a gentle scolding.  

Satoru hums, his eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that radiates from your body. Your breathing had deepened significantly, a telltale sign that you had fallen asleep against him – likely lulled by the gentle thump of his heart and the even rise and fall of his chest.  

He tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss against the crown of your head and looping his arms underneath you, lifting you against his chest and standing from the armchair. He couldn't have his darling wife sleep in such an uncomfortable position – you deserved much better than that.  

Satoru walks silently to your bedroom, closing the door with his foot and gently laying you down in the sheets, tugging them around you and smiling gently as you adjust yourself. A content sight falls from your nose, cheek smushed against your pillow as you doze.  

He climbs in beside you, tucking you against his chest and tangling his legs with your own. He blinks once, twice...then allows his tired eyes to finally close, welcoming sleep as it beckons to him with softened hands – hands that felt oddly similar to your own. 

And somewhere across the way, resting on numbed legs and rubbing together cold hands, another pair of eyes watches the stars as they glitter in the night sky. He thinks back to a time where he would have enjoyed the stars – maybe even admired their bright yellow hue.  

But that time is not now, and it is a time that he knows he can never go back to – not after what was said and what was done. Besides, he knew it was for the better. His departure from a domestic life was challenging...he had lost count of the tears that he had shed.  

Tonight was one of those nights where he longed for the warmth of a bed, he longed for those two familiar bodies pressed against his own. He longed for the mornings where he would only half-listen to Frank Sinatra and watch as breakfast was prepared for him. He longed for the two people who had shown him endless care and support...but those two people were nothing but a pained memory.  

Tilting his head up at the stars and at the crescent moon, shaky lips turn upward in a smile – one accompanied by salty tears that drip down his cheeks. His mind flashes images of those he longed for; one with snowy-white hair and the other with the kindest smile.  

"The stars are nice tonight, aren't they?" Suguru mutters to himself, hoping that somehow – someway – maybe you and Satoru would hear him. 

Yay requests time!

Can we get bratty!mean!reader with simp/lover boy yuuta or yuuji? Like, reader is always rolling her eyes or ordering him around and he just looks at her with heart yes and does as she wants. But obviously, everyone has their limits so sometimes they need to reel her back in and let her know that's nothing you treat someone that you love and loves you even more.

i dont know if you can tell but I'm getting brain rot about this and it's all I'm thinking about every night.

Sypnosis - How would !Loverboy Yuuji fare with a girlfriend who quite literally would step on him?

Warning(s) - foul language, mention of canon violence, Reader is kind of a bitch (but she does a 180 I promise)

A/N - !Loverboy Yuuji enjoyers rise up, I crafted this just for y'all.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

To be fair, when Yuuji falls in love, he falls in love hard. Loving Yuuji is the equivalent of adopting a golden retriever that will be perpetually stuck to your side in any given circumstance. And that means any circumstance — including if you’re working to exorcise a spirit. Yuuji just wants — or rather needs — to be by your side no matter what.  

Yuuji is also the kind of person to blindly follow orders. He doesn’t really have any regards for any consequences that may follow his actions — which has definitely resulted in multiple visits to Shoko. That, of course, includes any and all orders that you give him.  

Obviously, your “orders” aren’t as dire as, say, instructions given by Gojo before he sends Yuuji on a mission. But that doesn’t mean that he’ll show even an ounce of thought or hesitance. He does — quite literally — anything and everything for you. That includes carrying your backpack, carrying your bags when you shop, cutting your food when you have dinner together, tucking you in when you have move nights, buttoning you jacket when it’s cold outside, literally everything. 

Does he care that sometimes your tone gets a little snippy with him when you ask him to do something for you? No. Does he care that you scold him if he does something wrong? No. Does he care that you roll your eyes at him when you catch him staring? No.  

Because at the end of the day, you mean more to Yuuji than anything else. He can handle Cursed Spirits that can — and honestly have — ripped him limb from limb. Surely he can handle a bit of eye-rolling from his beautiful girlfriend. 

Megumi and Nobara can’t help but tease Yuuji for his behaviors, Nobara more so than Megumi. She just enjoys pointing out the fact that you could tell Yuuji to jump and he would reply back with, “How high?” 

But that doesn’t mean that they don’t see the small points of toxicity that peek through your actions. Sure, it was sweet that Yuuji would be willing to do anything and everything for you — but it felt like the things that Yuuji was doing went unreciprocated. 

It was Nobara then that approached you because, in all honesty, Yuuji was one of her closest friends. And she would be damned if she was going to stand by and just watch as he was treated like someone’s lap dog. Don’t get her wrong, she loves and adores you too, but she can see where people’s toxic traits lie.  

She ends up pulling you aside following one of your training sessions together, noticing in her peripheral the way that Yuuji pauses upon seeing you be dragged away by Nobara. You don’t protest to her actions, allowing your classmate to drag you underneath the school’s entry archway. Nobara keeps her fingers locked around your wrist as she inhales deeply, not wanting her emotions to accidentally get the better of her — the last thing that she needed was for you to get cross with her. You were deadly in that regard after all. 

“(Y/N), listen to me, yeah? You’re an amazing person, and I know that you likely don’t mean to come off as brash or as harsh as you sometimes do, but we all notice. And by ‘we all’, I mean me and Fushiguro. Yuuji is — for lack of a better word — devoted to you, he loves you a whole lot ‘kay? Again, I know that you don’t mean to be rude to him sometimes, but that’s what we all see. So try and lay off of the eye rolling, yeah?” 

Nobara smiles once she’s finished speaking, releasing the grip that she had on your wrist and placing both of her hands on her hips. You stand there in silence for a moment, mulling her words over in your head before reflecting on all that you had ever said and done to Yuuji. 

You realize at that moment that Nobara was right — Yuuji had only ever been kind and loving to you. And you were just…bitchy right back. You felt like slapping yourself across the face, how could you have let that behavior go on for so long?  

“God — you’re right Nobara. I’ve been — I’ve been pretty terrible haven’t I?” 

After that conversation with Nobara, you begin to plan in your head how to make it up to Yuuji — starting with his favorite snacks and movie series. Your dorm is suddenly nothing but blankets and pillow forts, adorned with the string lights that you usually kept your room decorated with. On the television is the selection screen for the Deluxe Edition of the Human Earthworm movies — which you knew were Yuuji’s absolute favorite.  

Once you finished setting everything up, you text Yuuji to swing by your dorm — which he agrees to without hesitation. Within five minutes of sending the text, Yuuji is knocking repeatedly at the door, smiling widely when you pull it open. You invite him inside, placing your palms over his eyes and repeating that you had a surprise for him.  

You lead him to the pillow/blanket fort set up in front of the small television in your dormitory, guiding him to sit down. You take a seat beside him, removing your hands from his eyes and presenting your little movie setup with a grand flourish of your hands.  

“You did all of this for me?”  

“Yeah — think of it as an apology for me being so demanding of you all the time.” 

Yuuji turns to you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you firmly to his chest, tucking you into him and burying his nose into your hair. You nestle yourself in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling to yourself as he holds you.  

After a good five minutes of sitting in Yuuji’s arms, you disconnect yourself to play the first Human Earthworm movie, smiling as Yuuji excitedly begins to ramble. 

With a lovesick smile of your own, you settle in with your boyfriend, nibbling on your snacks and simply enjoying his company.  

“Baby? It’s late, what are you still doing up?” Suguru asks drowsily from the doorframe that connects your bedroom to the kitchen. He lifts a hand to his eyes, flicking away the last bits of sleep that still cling desperately to his eyelashes.  

You turn to face him with a smile, patterned oven mitt covering one of your hands. In your hand is a steaming tray of cookies, snickerdoodle to be specific. “Well it was supposed to be a surprise, but I made you cookies.” 

Suguru’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion as he walks into the kitchen, glancing curiously at the tray that you lay out over the stovetop, then removing the oven mitt and opening your arms to him. He steps easily into them, wrapping his broad arms around your waist and allowing you to tuck your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.  

“What’d you make me cookies for?” he inquires curiously, tilting his head at you as you step back from his embrace, then folding your hands behind your back. Your lips curl upward in a soft smile, one that he mirrors almost immediately after seeing your own. He couldn’t help it — you always looked so soft around him.  

You bite your lip in thought for a moment, shuffling on your feet as your eyes flick to the still cooling cookies. Suguru watches you intently, still slightly confused.  

“Well…I overheard you talking with Satoru yesterday — you were complaining that the Curses you consume leave a sour taste in your mouth,” you begin, fiddling with your fingers as your gaze momentarily leaves Suguru. Your nails pick at a hangnail, but you don’t tug on it hard enough to remove it.  

“I thought that maybe making something sweet would — you know — get rid of the taste for a little bit.” 

Suguru softens, his lips turning upward in a smile as he reaches his fingers out, tilting your head so that your gaze finally meets his own. He leans down, pecking your forehead softly.  

“Thank you,” he whispers, bringing his forehead down so that it connects with your own. You smile, placing your hand against the one that he has resting on your cheek, stroking a finger over the backs of his knuckles.  

“I love you Suguru.” 

“I love you more, sweet girl.” 

HII!! I saw you had your requests open for jjk, so can i request a megumi fic with a reader who went to the same middle school as him but was being bullied? And thats why megumi would always get in fights? Thank you!! ❤️

Sypnosis - Contrary to popular belief, there were very few things in the world that Megumi liked. One of those things happened to be you.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, Megumi is a little shit, insecurities

A/N - Casually making this fic follow the "I hate everyone but you" trope, don't mind me.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Groaning lightly, you continue to hold the ice pack over your blackened eye per the nurse's request. The cold does little to help with the dull pain, but considering that it was your fifth black eye that month, there was really nothing else that the nurse could do. She was sick of seeing you so often anyway. 

You shift uncomfortably in the too-small seat of the nurse's office, looking around at the two other students that sit in the office with you. Neither of them make eye contact with you – not that it bothers you in the slightest.  

Still lost in thought, you adjust the ice pack against your eye, feeling the skin beneath it slowly going numb at the cold sensation. It feels soothing enough, and it helps in distracting you from the dull ache that your black eye gives off.  

Your ears perk at the sound of the door to the office opening, expecting it to be another student looking for a remedy for some injury or a pass to skip their next class. But it’s neither of the two; it’s Megumi. 

“Fushiguro?” you ask with a perk of your eyebrow, eyeing him curiously as he crosses the room to you. His hands reach out, ripping the ice pack away from your eye. “Hey-!” 

“Stupid ass,” he mutters, inspecting your injury with his lip curled upward. His other hand holds your cheek, tilting your head left and right — likely inspecting to see if you had sustained any other injuries.  

“Nice to see you too,” you mutter sarcastically, rolling your eyes as Megumi places the ice pack against your eye again. You hiss at the sudden cold, and for a moment you can see a flicker of regret over Megumi’s expression.  

He ignores your sarcastic quip, turning his body halfway and dragging an empty seat behind him, lowering himself into it.  

“What happened this time?” he asks you, his voice low so that none of the other students in the office can overhear.  

“Nothin’, just some guys — you know how it is,” you answer truthfully, adjusting the ice pack. You can feel it already melting against your face — you’d have to change it in a little bit. 

Megumi lets out a small “tch”, his eyes glazing over with an anger that you were all too familiar with. You already knew what he was planning — or rather, who he was planning to beat within an inch of their life.  

“I’m gonna-“ 

“Can you not this time?” you cut him off. His gaze flickers to yours, stunned at your sudden boldness.  

“What?” You almost laugh at how genuinely confused he sounds, but you keep that same stern look on your face. You didn’t want to be the reason why someone went home with a broken nose — or worse.  

“I said, can you not this time? I don’t wanna be targeted again because you decided to thrash someone’s face in,” you explain, trying to keep your tone as level as possible. Megumi only stares back at you, looking at you as if you had suddenly sprouted another head.  

“I — was just trying to protect you,” he murmurs, already feeling an unfamiliar heat rise to his cheeks.  

With another roll of your eyes, you reach a hand out, placing it on top of his head and smiling at him. His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. 

“And I appreciate it. But it gets you in trouble,” you remind him. Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes, but oddly enough, he also smiles. 

“Yeah, yeah. But are you okay?” 

You nod, smiling and removing the ice pack from your eye. He winces at the sight of it, but he doesn’t comment. 

“I’m fine. You’re here now, aren’t you?” 

The tips of his ears burn pink — but you would never say anything about it. Your odd little protector.