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“P.S. My Mother’s address is Mahim Monkmoor Rd. Shrewsbury. I know you would try to see her, if – I failed to see her again.”
— from Wilfred Owen’s letter to Siegfried Sassoon (22 September 1918)
tokito usually forgets what frogs are and it’s always exciting to rediscover them!!
sweet nothing
gojo always finds himself running home to you
a/n: hi friends ! hope u all enjoy this little piece inspired by the song sweet nothing by taylor swift (thank u anon for the inspo 🫶🏼) let me know what u all think :3
wordcount: 1,310
masterlist
one of the only thoughts on gojo satoru’s mind, from the moment he leaves home to the second he’s unlocking the door, is coming home to you.
his shoulders hurt from the amount of stress he’s under, every muscle in his body tense, eyes burning with exhaustion, and his head throbbing as the higher ups words ring in his ears. the light jingle of his keys as he unlocks the front door helps ground him a bit, blinking once, twice then opening the front door.
he’s greeted with the smell of food, he can’t quite place what it is (he doesn’t help in the kitchen much after the one time he did and ended up ruining three pans), he’s slipping his shoes off and placing his keys in the small leaf shaped holder on the table next to the door.
his eyes naturally focusing on the picture frame of the two of you on vacation last July, a wide, carefree smile painted on both of your faces, hair a bit messy from walking around. his cheeks were flushed as you planted a kiss to his cheek, your arms thrown around his neck.
satoru’s thrown out of his trance by the sudden sound of loud sizzling, the small smile on his face only growing when he hears your soft humming. his tired feet carry him quickly to the kitchen, a spring in his step as he grows closer and closer to being with you.
he feels the weight on his shoulders ease up a bit as his eyes land on you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching you chop up vegetables with a smile on his face, replacing the higher ups nagging ringing in his ears with your off-key singing.
“have you ever considered x-factor sweetheart?” he asks, a lopsided smile on his face when you turn to face him, bright eyes as you welcome him home.
“i sent in a recording once, they offered me a ten year contract but i declined” you teased, moving to stir the food cooking in the pan, “told them i have a very needy boyfriend that would die without me.”
satoru let’s put a small ‘pft’ at your words, pushing himself off the wall and walking up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder.
“how was your day, angel boy?” you ask, voice as sweet as honey as you press a soft kiss to his cheek. satoru let’s put a small huff, his warm breath tickling your neck which causes you to smile.
“‘t was okay, just stressed out” he mumbles, “and the fucking higher ups are-”, his eyes closing as he remembers his conversation with them, sighing deeply. you pout a bit, noting his more more tense body against yours. you let yourself melt into his touch, turning around and hugging him properly.
“don’t wanna talk about it?” you ask gently, he shakes his head, bangs covering his eyes just a bit. you nod, giving him a smile before kissing his lips softly, “then we won’t.”
satoru is grateful, knowing that when the time is right he’ll open up to you about it. but for now he just wants to spend his night with the love of his life.
“good thing im making your favorite then huh?” you chuckle, watching the way his shoulders inflate, he’s standing taller and there’s a smile on his face.
it wasn’t long before the two of you were eating dinner together, making easy conversation and laughing at anything stupid either of you said. he’s placing the freshly washed plates on the drying rack, heading over to you on the couch when you stop him.
“go shower, I’ll let you use my stuff” you state, eyes widening as you see satoru already running towards the restroom, “just this once!” you call out, hearing his loud giggles echoing from down the hall.
it’s 40 minutes later when he’s emerging into your shared room in only his boxers, body still dripping with water and steam following him out. you can smell your rose scented body wash on him as he dries himself off besides you.
satoru is looking at you with big eyes, towel in hand as he grins up at you, “will you dry my hair?” his voice is filled with a gentleness you’ve grown much too soft for.
“come here” you smile, heart growing at the sound of an excited squeak he lets out. you’re gentle as you dry his hair, combing out any knots and putting some product in it before patting his head twice, letting him know you were done.
your lover is quick to change positions, taking you in his arms and curling himself around you, some damp strands landing on your face as he buries his face in your neck. you’re doing your best to wiggle your hands free from his grasp, adjusting so you can card your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp a bit just the way he likes.
satoru visibly relaxes against your touch, practically purring as you whisper to him, “I’m so proud of you” you say, “you work so hard, angel” tenderness carried in every syllable of your words.
“I love you so much” you remind him, squeezing him a bit tighter, moving his hair from his forehead and placing a kiss there, “my beautiful boy” you murmur, a smile on your face as you see the way his grin grows.
the apples of his cheeks are rosy, pink dusting his entire face. satoru easily grabs your hips, placing you on top of him so that you straddle his lap.
“how do you always know what to say?” he asks, looking up at you with fond eyes, nuzzling his cheek into the palm of your hand as you place a stand of hair behind his ear.
“hmm, call it intuition” you tease, placing feathery kisses all over his face, the two of you giggling when you kiss his nose, “but it’s probably just ‘cause I’m your soulmate” you smile.
satoru hums in agreement, one hand snaking to the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss, your lips moving in sync. when you pull away the two of you are giggling softly, foreheads resting against each other as he shifts a bit, kissing you nose before throwing his head back against the pillows, letting out a small sigh.
“sometimes i wish i was just your toru” he mumbles, “i never asked to be the strongest.” you can hear the slight tremor in his voice as he speaks, his eyes closing to fight tears back. you’re quick to kiss his cheeks, rubbing your thumb against his cheek as you coax him to look at you.
“i know you didn’t, angel boy” you sigh, brushing his hair away from his face gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “it’s gonna work itself out, i know it will” you reassure him, a small smile on your face as he nods along with you.
maybe you were right, maybe you weren’t, satoru didn’t care. he believed every word you said to him. each reassurance working to calm his exhausted mind, his eyes fluttering closed as you continue to whisper, your words meant for him and only him.
“and you’ll always be my toru” pressing a feathery kiss to his jaw, “the one with the stupid sweet tooth and terribly timed jokes” you smile, watching the way his smile returns to his face.
“I’ll always be here waiting for you to come home to me” you say, there’s a plethora of emotions dripping from your words. the only thing satoru feels is love, your undying and genuine love, for him.
gojo satoru may not know everything, but he knows one thing for sure; he’ll always be ready to run home to you and your sweet nothings.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOME COOKED MEAL — nanami kento
you bring itadori home for dinner & he gets to see a different side to kento
contents. aka you dig up some teenage photos of nanami, fem!reader, husband nanami, fluff, yuuji being your adopted son, i haven't watched the new ep (& i won't) but there is enough nanami angst so i am here to fix that — 1.7k
when you got ready to leave the school, your jacket on and bag tugged over your shoulder, you passed yuuji itadori in the halls, his expression suspiciously similar to a kicked puppy.
yuuji perked up a bit as you walked by, offering you a small smile and a wave. and though you considered heading on home for the night, eager to see your husband, you slowed, hesitant to leave the poor kid all alone.
“everything okay, yuuji?” you asked, frowning as he rested his elbows on his knees, studying a stain on the floor of the school.
“hm?” the teenager glanced up, eyes bright and wide. his sweet smile was back on his face, so innocent and kind. for someone who had been through so much already, he was more caring than many people that you’d met in your life. “oh, everything’s fine. everyone’s just out on missions, so i feel a little…” he pulled up one shoulder in a shrug. “useless.”
you knew it must have been hard for him, being a student that wasn’t quite like the others, having to train a little differently, adapt differently. but yuuji took it in stride, and he handled it better than any normal person would.
with a nod, you secured your bag around your other shoulder, shifting your feet. “it’s just going to be you here tonight, then?”
he hummed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. “i think so. some of the others might be around, but they’re resting up.”
“oh.” though you were certain yuuji had no qualms about spending an evening on his own, the thought of it made you feel like you were leaving a kitten out in the rain. almost pitiful.
yuuji waved before you could say another word, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “have a good night! i’ll see you tomorrow.”
the car ride was spent listening to yuuji tell you story after story, the boy opening up to you in a way that he hadn’t quite related to any of the other sorcerers, even gojo.
you smiled to yourself, enjoying his stories as you wondered how to tell kento that you were bringing your student home for dinner.
there was still a bridge to cross between them, and though you knew they both liked the other more than they let on, kento hadn’t quite connected to the boy like he wanted to.
you hoped that by inviting him over, yuuji would see that kento, truly, wasn’t as intense as he let on. he was sweet, caring, and he did have a sense of humor… even if gojo didn’t really believe that.
you led yuuji into the house, and stopped him when you heard the sound of kento in the kitchen. his mission had ended earlier than yours, and he’d offered to cook tonight; there would be more than enough food for the three of you.
“i’ll be right back,” you said, tapping yuuji on the shoulder. “let me go tell kento you’re here.”
you’d considered letting your husband know before you arrived, but you hadn’t wanted him to protest. kento would try to make a fuss of having a guest over, even if it was only yuuji, and he certainly didn’t care about formalities.
your heart skipped when you reached kento, his back turned, finishing up the meal that was steaming on the stove. even just standing in the threshold of the kitchen, you were overwhelmed with all of your love for him.
but it didn’t take much… it never had. you’d always been sickeningly in love with nanami kento.
your footsteps were soft as you snuck up behind him. “kento,” you said, just above a whisper, snaking your arms around his waist. you kissed the muscles between his shoulder blades, listening to the steady thrum of blood pumping through his body.
“hi, sweetheart.” he’d heard you approach, and he turned, eyes softening when he glanced at you over his shoulder. “everything okay at the school?”
you nodded, squeezing him tighter. even though you’d seen him just a few hours prior, it felt like a long time—time apart when you were battling curses always dragged as you worried for each other’s safety. “did your mission go okay?” you asked.
he took your hands from around his waist, bringing them to his lips softly. “everything went fine. dinner’s almost ready so—” then, he noticed your guilty expression, one that you were clearly horrible at hiding. “is something wrong?”
you smiled innocently. “no! i just… brought a guest.”
kento’s eyebrows raised, his smiling falling quickly. “well, you could’ve told me before.” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned around to face you.
“sorry, i thought i’d surprise you.”
kento’s lips drew into a thinner line. “honey, please tell me gojo satoru is not in my house right now. he’s not welcome here anymore, because the last time he almost destroyed our fucki—” kento glanced up, his words falling away as he glanced over your shoulder. “itadori. hello. i didn’t realize you were there.”
you turned, releasing kento as yuuji gawked back at you. he’d caught in such a loving embrace with kento. yuuji’s normally stoic teacher was in the middle of swearing, blonde hair tumbling over his forehead. kento had replaced his suit with casual wear, and his contacts had been taken out. in place of them were wire-rimmed glasses.
“nanamin!” yuuji gasped. “you look so different.”
“yes, well, i apologize for my apperance.” kento sighed, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “i wasn’t aware we were having guests.”
“one guest. its just yuuji,” you said, poking him in the middle of the chest as his professional tone returned, so easily taking over. “i don’t think he cares what you’re wearing.”
“no, i don’t!” yuuji backtracked, eyes wide as he shuffled forward. “no, you look cool, you don’t look so…”
kento raised his eyebrows, amused, even if yuuji couldn’t detect the humor in his expression. “so what?”
the boy’s cheeks turned pink, embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “um—”
“you don’t look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” you said, voicing yuuji’s obvious thoughts as you kissed kento on the cheek with a short laugh. of course, it was only to embarrass him further in front of his student.
kento feigned a scowl, but didn’t push you away, his gaze firmly planted on yuuji. “that’s because i try to keep my relationships at work strictly professional.”
“really?” yuuji grinned, stuffing his hands back in his pockets, his posture relaxing as he grew more comfortable in your home. “not very professional to marry someone you work with, is it?”
you laughed loudly, already caring so deeply for the boy that you’d known for such a short period of time.
“that was certainly an accident,” kento muttered, but his fingers lingered on your spine, tracing each of the bones. “i’ll have you know we were not working together when we got together.”
“really?” yuuji’s curiosity spiked. “how long have you been together, then?”
you thought back to when you were teenagers, when kento had a haircut that he had since regretted, and smiled mischievously. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through old photos, back from when you were just kids, the images grainy and of much lower quality than the ones from your recent vacation.
“hey, don’t show him those!” kento protested. he reached for your phone, but you scrambled under his arm, stretching your hand out to give yuuji the device. “itadori, don’t—” kento’s voice held a hint of panic, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he grabbed you around the waist, trying to stop you from giving yuuji the phone.
but it was already in yuuji’s hands, and you laughed loudly, knowing that while you looked a little more awkward than you did now, your appearance had changed near as drastically as kento’s.
yuuji squinted his eyes at a sixteen year old nanami, blond hair long enough to reach his eyes, dressed in an all black ensemble, an earbud in one ear. kento was hardly smiling, but you beamed next to him in the photo, dressed more childishly than you were now, but just as pretty. the image from when you still fumbled around each other, unsure how to admit that you were both in love.
a roar of laughter left yuuji as kento’s expression fell, and he released you, snapping the phone out of itadori’s palm. “that’s you, nanamin? no way. how did you…” yuuji glanced between you, squinting his eyes. “well, i guess looking at you now it makes sense.”
“i know,” you agreed, covering your smiles with your palms. “we looked a little silly together back then. i saw the potential in him, but satoru certainly loved to make fun of us, didn’t he, ken?”
“i have absolutely no desire to relive those days.”
yuuji laughed. “you were just like fushiguro, i bet!”
“scarily similar,” you agreed, as kento rolled his eyes beside you, putting your phone in his pocket to keep you from scavenging any older photos to share with the kid. “and he still loves to listen to—”
“don’t finish that sentence or i’ll save this dinner all for myself.”
yuuji eyes flew up to his hairline, but you just snorted, knowing that kento’s threats were about as scary as a puppy.
“he’s still sensitive about it,” you whispered to yuuji. “gojo and his friends made fun of him all the time.”
“oh really. just me?” kento retorted under his breath.
“you must have been pretty popular, then!” yuuji grinned. “if you were friends with gojo. he said all the girls in school loved him!”
kento made an irritated sound, stirring the spoon roughly against the pot. “well, satoru is the last person you should listen to. he has an ego bigger than the sun. and my wife is leading you astray. she was not similar to satoru, she was painfully shy, and it took weeks for either of us to talk to each other.” kento took the pan off the stove, peering over his shoulder at you. “and she is very lucky i love her too much to dig up any embarrassing stories of her.”
“well, stories about me aren’t that interesting anyway.” you laughed, pointedly turning your back to kento. “yuuji, the good news is, i’ve got some more photos in kento in the old photo books. let’s go see them!”
when you get me alone it's so simple
c/w: 1k wc, megumi is so head over heels in love with you he allows you to do his makeup for a halloween party, sappy and self indulgent and disgustingly sweet pls be nice i haven't written something in forever
“Why are you being so difficult?”
“When am I not being difficult according to you?”
The playful quip makes the cornes of your lips curl into an amused smile.
“Right. But I really think you should come”
Megumi holds your gaze with a seemingly impassive stare, lets the small interval of silence stretch for a second too long.
It’s not that he doesn’t like hanging out with his friends, he actually enjoys the idea of getting to be nothing more than a young man with an exceptionally low tolerance level for Nobara’s antics for once. However, a halloween party? Filled with obnoxious strangers who will get drunk and make a mess of Yuuji’s house? A mess that you have already promised will help to clean out?
Definitely not on his bingo card for an evening he could spend at the movies or in a quiet pub instead.
But then, there’s your strenuous perseverence. The disappointment you didn’t for a second attempt to hide still swarming in those big eyes, the pettish inflexion of your pitch when you had sputtered a what? What d’you mean you’re not coming?
And now there you are, curled up on the other end of your couch, sulkiness oozing from every glace you’ve spared him for the last half an hour.
“I want you there” you innocently cock your head and he feels something melt in his chest “it just wouldn’t be fun without you. Please come?”
Sometimes Megumi wonders if you know about the exhausting effort it takes him to whisk away thoughts a friend shouldn’t have, the way he’s almost lost his mind dwelling on the way you held on to his hand the entire way back to your apartment on the night he came to collect you from the bar, drunk and a giggling, clingy mess. He wonders if you understand just how deeply you can get under his skin and the way he hangs on to every word, every smile, each I want you there.
“Gumi?” you inch forward, brows knit and cool fingers gently grazing his arm.
Jesus, fuck.
“Fine. But I’m not staying to clean up”
You smile knowingly, a light shrug swallowing the of course you will almost spilling from your lips.
“Deal. And I get to do your makeup”
The dim light of your awfully small bathroom has gentle shadows settling into the curves of your collarbones and accentuates your jaw, the apples of your cheeks. There are only so many glances he can steal as the pitter-patter of rain on the window makes the perspective of spending the night out even less appealing.
Regarless, the warmth radiating from your skin and the smell of your perfume cloud his pathetically heightened senses, a miltisensory madness that has his heart thumping painfully in his chest and the pads of his fingers tingling with need.
“Will you stop flinching?” only one of his eyes is open and you’re out of focus but that exasperated smile rings loud in his ears.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, it’s an instinctive reaction”
“I’m just using eyeshadow”
You finally allow his left eye to peel open and Megumi almost laughs at your focused stare, creases on your forehead expressing a deep dissatisfaction.
“What? Doesn’t suit me?” he quips “it’s probably because you keep smudging it—”
“I’m going for a dramatic look, you dolt!”
His eyebrows raise in mocking interest.
“Oh, apologies. What’s the issue, then? Not dramatic enough?”
“You’re being surprisingly chatty for someone who is usually very fucking quiet”
Megumi’s sarcastic comeback dies in his throat as you suddenly position yourself over him, not quite straddling his lap because you’re still standing but nevertheless exceptionally close to sitting on his thighs.
“What are you— what is that?” his voice is thinner and he has to flex his hands to keep himself from positioning them on your hips.
Christ.
“Chill, man. It’s eyeliner. Don’t move, this is the most important part” and then you’re hovering above him once more, except this time you gently grab his chin to tilt his head upwards as you lean closer, so close he stops breathing.
You work quietly, in comfortable silence, although you’re at cotton swab number three and the result still doesn’t seem to fully satisfy you.
“You should wear makeup” it’s a comment made absentmindedly, Megumi can tell by the way you’re not even truly looking at him as you speak, way too absorbed by the task at hand “eye makeup, I mean. It looks really good on you”
“Yeah?”
There must be something in his inflection, because your hand comes to a halt for a second, then resumes its gentle work over his eyelid. All he gets is an affirmative hum.
“Someone would have to teach me how to do it”
He’s not sure where his boldness is stemming from, although he suspects the thumb gently brushing over the same spot close to the corner of his eye would make a reasonable source.
“I’m sure Nobara would be happy to” you quietly chuckle to yourself but this time it feels as if you’re avoiding his gaze on purpose and that just won’t do.
“Doesn’t your back hurt like this?”
“A little bit but I’m almost done with this eye. Are you uncomfortable? I can—” Megumi interrupts you with a gentle but firm hold of your waist, hands far bigger than yours pulling you down to sit on his lap.
You’re dumbfounded and he revels in your shocked expression, in the way you’re the one who doesn’t know how to handle something unexpected for once. In how good it feels to be in control.
“Don’t make it weird” the warning is playful but his hands are still on your waist and give it a light squeeze that has your stomach doing a weird flip.
“I— what? You don’t make it weird! Shut up, stand still” your entire face is on fire and the turtleneck sweater you’re wearing suddenly feels all too warm.
Megumi smiles innocently but complies, quiet and as immobile as a sorcerer's body can get.
You pretend not to notice the way he melts into your touch, how his body relaxes as he shuts both his eyes and finally lets you work in peace. No sarcastic remarks, no silly winces. Why does that do something to your chest?
It’s so easy, carefully lining his bottom lash line with your favorite liquid eyeliner. Without thinking, you cradle his face as you gently swipe your thumb over the freshly traced lines to smudge them just right.
But then his eyes flutter open right as you hold his face in your hands and is it your imagination or does the grip on your waist grow more solid in turn?
“Y’know” he murmurs in a way that is so unlike him, so intimate as his indigo gaze burns right into yours “actually, I wouldn’t want Nobara to be the one to do it”
i hear a good lyric and start mentally holding up blorbos like im in the home depot paint aisle comparing swatches