"after they leave, it's just the voices and i."
masterlist | previous , next !
–pairings: itadori yuuji x oc
– warning: mentions of death, fluff, canon divergent, pre-shibuya arc
– author’s note: more lore!! i swear ill be getting into the action soon but uh,,, this series might end up longer than expected
disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!
“Well, we should be off.”
My gaze snapped up to meet honey-brown eyes once more, those two little marks underneath Itadori’s eyes, as if they were another set of eyes, stared back at me. His pout was evident, expressions freely displayed in contrast to Fushiguro’s poker face. Yet even with his judgemental gaze, I plastered on a smile.
“Ah, is it that late already?” Nobara sighed, and I lightly shoved her shoulder.
“It’s late enough,” Fushiguro, grabbed Itadori’s sleeve. “We should leave you to unpack.”
“I almost forgot about that, but thanks for the reminder.”
I walked the two to the door, Nobara getting a headstart on cleaning up the mess – considering that she did make the most of it – while Itadori continued to pout at the lack of time spent together.
“Dang, I was hoping to get to know you better,” He huffed, before letting out a radiant smile once more. “I’m sure we’ll meet tomorrow though! When will you be free?”
I glance behind the door, seeing a big thumbs up from Nobara, and I turn back to Itadori, sucking in wince.
“I mean, I’m still pretty busy unpacking, so uh… no, I’m not free. Sorry.”
“Oh, uh, that’s alright. What about the day after– OW!”
A fist was lowered on Itadori’s head, and I couldn’t help but let out a genuine wince, seeing how hard he was hit on the head.
“Leave it at that, Yuuji,” Fushiguro sighed. “She’s busy, so leave her be.”
“Alright, alright, no need to get violent,” He huffed before turning to me, letting out a little hopeful smile. “Well uh, hope to see you around then?”
“Yeah,” The twinkle in his eye set off a little feeling of nausea in me. “Around. Sure.”
“Great! See you around!”
“You said that twice, idiot,” Fushiguro sighed, pulling Itadori away by the back of the collar of his shirt.
“Thanks for lunch, by the way!” I called out before turning to close my dorm door, but not without Itadori gleefully yelling back ‘You’re welcome!’
“Busy, huh?” Nobara chimed. “I was hoping you weren’t too busy for me.”
“You’re always welcome, Nobara,” I sigh, walking over to help her clean up.
“So you don’t like them?”
“It’s not that I don’t like Itadori and Fushiguro. I just didn’t come here to make friends. I came here to become stronger, to fight for myself and others.”
“Sheesh, straight to the point,” She shrugs. “Can’t blame you for that. But hey, here’s to hoping we’ll be in the same class. I need another gal in my class, not sure how much longer I can tolerate those guys.”
“Hah! You handle them perfectly fine, Nobara, don’t take yourself for granted,” I pat her on the back as I take the two small plastic bags of trash, chucking them into my bin.
“Hey, you handled them well too, although it was in a silent, deadly-stare kinda way,” She muttered the last bit, before sighing and walking towards my dorm door.
“Heading out?”
“Yeah, unless you want me to stay on and help,” She then pointed at my eyes. “Though I can tell your social battery is practically dead.”
I let a smile slip onto my features, and that’s enough for her to know. She lowers her hand, reaching for the door as I hear it click open.
“You know me too well, Nobara. I’ll see you around?”
“Just text or call me, dork,” She calls out, the door closing behind her.
A soft laugh escapes me, and I’m left alone in the silence again. I look over to my suitcase, before getting up to lock my door. Once that was done, I seat myself back by my barely unpacked suitcase.
I didn’t pack many clothes. It wasn’t like I needed anything more than my uniform and maybe a few casual outing clothes. I was here to learn, maybe hang with Nobara, but nothing more, nothing less.
As soon as my clothes were kept away in the cupboard, the photo in my bag caught my eye. It was enough to capture my full attention, and I closed my wardrobe shut, walking over to my case to take the paper image instead.
“Mama.”
Her eyes, shining like stars in the dark vast of space, were filled with such warmth, her arms wrapped around a much smaller version of me and my baby brother. My father stood behind her, a wide smile stretched across his cheeks.
We looked happy.
Never did I ever think I would see my father’s smile again. But it would always be there in my memories, in my pictures, reminding me of my wrongs – my mistakes; my actions.
My thumb rubs across the surface of the once-fond memory, swiping off the tears that landed on it. Couldn’t afford to lose more of what once was. I sit on my bed, feeling the mattress sink under me. The picture sits on my bedside table, but a feeling of longing and irritation nags me.
I suck my teeth in annoyance, and all that’s left is to face whatever’s eating at me.
I find myself standing in the middle of the room, taking one last look at us, smiling without care. I pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my notes before landing on a specific one. I’ve never cast this technique for a single reason, but I needed advice now more than ever.
Taking one last glance at the little text on my screen, I turned my phone off, returning all my focus to my newest technique.
“Beyond the grave and from the dead.”
It started with flickering lights. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t afford distractions, I couldn’t afford to mess up again.
“I beseech the knowledge within your head.”
The windows rattled and the rapid flickering of the lightbulbs worsened.
“I seek your guidance, oh passing spirit. Until my time has reached its limit.”
Silence. It surrounded me, everything deathly still. My eyes opened, and I was in darkness. A dim light glowed from the lights above, though I doubted that the lights were this purple before.
My back straightened, and I let out a sigh of relief, a weight lifting off my chest. I slipped a card out of my pocket, my thumb rubbing against the sigil of the Eight of Wands. I held it straight before me, upright, as I forced the next words out of my mouth.
“I now reveal Yamomoto Chizuru, wife of Shu Daichi, and former user of the Spiritual Technique.”
And there she stood, eyes warm as ever, despite the coldness they held in her dying moments. A smile rested on her lips, arms outstretched in welcome.
“Tsubame,” Her voice filled my ears, and my vision watered with newly unshed tears. “How good it is to finally speak to you.”
“Okaa-san.”
gif by @heycaz
taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki < comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >
𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹
featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader
warnings. sukuna wanted a son, but got a daughter instead (he's smitten for her shh), sukuna is modern af bye he knows how to use a phone ok, reader is called "wife", ooc sukuna bye
note. ok listen, i've been having a girl dad sukuna brainrot lately. and i even gave out a req to @rrairey (u go check out her works rn) — but i just had to write something about girl dad sukuna jsjdksjks it's on my mind 25/8 and i can't stop unless i actually write abt him (i'm lying, he's still going to be in my mind bye).
girl dad! sukuna who initially wanted a son but when he finds out he's going to be having a daughter instead, he didn't know how to feel. he thought that if he had a son, he could at least play "rough" with him. it's sukuna, he doesn't know what soft is.
girl dad! sukuna who has to secretly watch tutorial videos on the most random thing like "how to play nicely with your daughter" or "how to be nice to your daughter". but also searches up for things like "easy hairstyles to give your daughter for beginners", when your daughter isn't even born yet.
girl dad! sukuna who hates to admit it but he's pretty worried about having a daughter. finally shoves his ego down his throat and comes up to you to talk about it, and you encouraged that he's going to be a good father — but still, he's worried.
"ryo, you're worried about what exactly?" you asked the male, brushing his hair.
"not being a good father." he replies, leaning into your touch with a big frown on his face, grumbling under his breath slightly about how embarrassed he is to be so fragile in front of his own wife.
"baby, you're going to be the best father."
although your words were supposed to be encouraging, and he did feel a bit of burden lift off of his shoulders — the male still couldn't help but to worry about his unborn daughter.
girl dad! sukuna who complains about your pregnancy cravings and how his daughter is a weird baby. despite that, he will go out of his way to get you what you wanted, not caring if it was two in the morning, or five in the morning. he will get it for you and your growing daughter inside your belly.
girl dad! sukuna who grows anxious when your due date was inching closer. he took a break off from work and devoted his time to look after you, especially since you were walking for two right now. even if you did tell your husband that you were fine — he still thinks it's his job to look after you and your daughter.
"damn it brat, stop moving so much. you'll hurt yourself," he gently tugs on your arm, directing you to the couch, "what'dya want?"
"sausages and blueberry jam . . ." you tell him nonchalantly, missing the look of disgust on his face.
". . . just stay there." he walks a few steps before turning back, "don't move."
girl dad! sukuna who watches labor videos only to focus on the husbands and what they were doing in it so he could try to take notes and searches for what he should get ready for labor, or if he could do anything as a husband for his wife during labor. the results didn't ease his worries — they added up his worries. like adding fuel to the fire, the internet tells him that giving birth was the second most painful thing after getting burned alive.
girl dad! sukuna who already thought of names for your daughter and even buys things for her. telling you that he'd be out to grab a few things and then coming back with a crib set, toys, or even a baby walker. he even got a baby strap for both you and him to use, picking out the most random motives like skulls and fires.
"ryo, why did you pick that motive?" you asked, eyeing the baby strap that had white skulls all over.
"our daughter will like that. i know it." he retorts.
girl dad! sukuna who looked as calm as a cucumber but internally panics the most when your water broke. he grabs the bag that he had packed, following a youtube tutorial and helped you get into the car so that the both of you can finally drive off to the hospital. he holds your hand tightly along the way, showing his worry as he "tries" to follow driving laws (which he ended up driving past the speed limit and had to get a ticket in the hospital).
girl dad! sukuna who had to pay a ticket as you were tended in a hospital room (you didn't know about this and he didn't tell you about it so you won't worry). the doctor telling both you and him that the labor procedure will have to wait up to a few hours as they proceeded with "watchful waiting" after they checked on the baby's condition and yours so they could see if it was safe for you to give birth normally.
girl dad! sukuna who waited those long hours with you as you laid on the bed, telling him how nervous you are. and all the bad possibilities that could happen (he searched that up too), he tells you to stop saying those kind of things. sukuna wasn't angry — he just didn't want you to stress so much, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb to soothe you. he didn't let go until the doctor came back to finally do something.
girl dad! sukuna who was inside the delivery room with you, even after telling you that he won't come inside a few months ago. holds onto your hand (which you were holding onto tightly as the procedure goes on for hours), he winces — but he didn't care about his hand right now, he only cares about you and his daughter. brushing your hair lightly, mumbling out hushed praises to you (unknowingly, it just comes out), wipes away your sweat with his bare fingers and pressing kisses onto your face every single time he feels your hand clenching around his.
"jus' a bit more, pretty." he whispers, kissing your knuckles multiple times before moving on to kiss your forehead, "a bit more."
girl dad! sukuna who almost bursts into tears when he heard the loud cry of your daughter, but blinked his tears back. peering slightly at your worn out face. he tells you how he's proud of you (spoiler: he hates it if you reminded him about it in the future).
"y'hear that? you did so good, pretty. 'm proud of you," he clung onto your hand, grazing his thumb over your forehead as a smile adorned his face, "she's here, baby."
girl dad! sukuna who couldn't hold his tears back when the nurse suggested skin-to-skin contact with the father. he wasted no time tugging his shirt off to hold his little bundle of joy, nestling her in his arms — unknowingly letting a few stray tears of joy out as he coos down to his newborn daughter.
"oh, you're so pretty, little one." he cradled her gently against his bulky arms, sniffling softly. he was so gentle — different from how he used to be, his eyes soft and watery as he affectionately stares down at his now sleeping daughter.
girl dad! sukuna who slept on a chair by your bed when the doctor told you that you'll be allowed to go home once your body is fit again, he didn't care that he didn't have a bed to lie on. he was just there, prepped in a chair as his fingertips touched your wrist near the IV injection on the back of your hand. making sure he didn't touch the transparent hose. and his eyes darted back and forth from your resting form and his daughter who was now all warm and bundled up inside a bassinet. making sure that the both of you are resting well even if he was barely able to open his eyes fully.
girl dad! sukuna who carried all your bags and your daughter's car seat with ease while leading you down the hospital hallways and to the car. helping you buckle your seatbelt and making sure that his daughter is going to be safe and sound during the ride home, prepping up the car seat like he learned, giving his daughter a light kiss on her head before closing the door.
girl dad! sukuna who tells you to rely on him every time his daughter wakes up in the middle of the night — he won't let you get up, gently tugging you down onto the bed and tucking you underneath the covers before leaving to tend your daughter without any other words. as if his daughter is the most fragile thing in the world, he carries her into his arms and hushed her softly, nuzzling his nose onto her head, trying to get her back to sleep.
"shh, baby, mama's tired right now . . . go back to bed." he whispers, kissing her small forehead.
girl dad! sukuna who offered to shower your baby for the first time after two weeks upon arriving back home (under your watch of course), as you filled the bathinette with warm water — sukuna was cradling her in his arms, swaying his body side to side. and when you tell him the water's ready, sukuna prepped his big hand behind your daughter's small head so the water won't go to her face and began cleaning her. concentrating, he wets his finger and traced it over his daughter's face, making sure she's not frightened. and once he's done, he cupped his hand and scooped some water to wet her hair, rubbing her head lovingly.
girl dad! sukuna who's personality did a somersault ever since you were pregnant with his daughter. turning soft and more clingy, he has your daughter strapped to his chest. and will tell you that he's got it every time his daughter cries or ruined her diapers, he's learnt it all thanks to other great dads on youtube.
girl dad! sukuna who was even more ecstatic than you are when his daughter said her first word, which was of course "mama", he didn't care that she didn't say "dada", he focuses on the fact that his daughter had grown so much to be able to say her first word. tells your bundle of joy how proud he is of her even if she probably doesn't understand her father.
"maa..ma."
sukuna who had his eyes on the television immediately darted to his daughter who was in your hold, his lips were slightly parted as he tries to process what just happened, "did . . . did she . . ?"
when you confirmed his question, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your head before kissing your daughter's head, muttering out a, "papa's proud of you, baby."
girl dad! sukuna who treats both you and your daughter like the most precious beings in the world. he. spoils. you. both. to no end, coming home from work with a present for the both of you. mostly food for you, and a toy for your daughter. you just know [daughter] is going to grow up spoiled by her father.
girl dad! sukuna who spoils your daughter rotten. and ever since her first steps — he's been going out with her to no end, of course going out as a family of three. holding your daughter's chubby little hands as he guided her down the street, earning coos from strangers all around him.
"good girl, that's right . . . left and right." he said softly, watching [daughter] walk slowly, still a little wobbly.
girl dad! sukuna who gets a little emotional when your daughter has her first birthday — because, it's been that fast? he tries not to cry, i swear. but silently slips inside the bathroom and lets a few one out before coming out like he didn't just cry over his daughter growing up too fast. he swore it was just yesterday that he was in the hospital.
girl dad! sukuna who will with no shame, participate in tea parties with his daughter once she's known enough about it. you'd call them both down for dinner and when they didn't, you decided to be the one to approach them inside [daughter]'s room. and there he was, sitting on the floor, to his left and right were [daughter]'s stuffed animals and your daughter was sitting across from sukuna with a silver tiara on.
"this looks fun," you chuckled, eyeing them.
"mama! tea party?" [daughter] beams out at you, you walked over to them and carried your daughter into your arms, "mama, no tea party?"
"after dinner, baby. okay?"
sukuna has no shame in it. at first, he did try to decline his daughter, telling her that she should ask you instead, but your daughter looked so crestfallen that he just has to accept — which turned out to be a daily thing now. a tea party.
girl dad! sukuna who will be his daughter's experiment subject to trying out make ups. he's a little skeptical (lies, he's very skeptical), but it's not like this is the first time he's had make up put on his face. he's had his fair share of you trying to put make up on him, but this was a toddler doing it and not a full grown adult. but he couldn't say no, so he just submits to his daughter and lets her modify his face and clips on cute hairclips to his hair.
"mama mama! look at papa," your daughter cheers, pointing at sukuna. and you laugh, carrying your daughter before approaching the male who was sitting down on the floor in the living room.
"you look pretty, ryo."
"i feel pretty, my little girl did it to me." he rolls his eyes before grabbing a mirror to look at his face.
eh, not bad.
girl dad! sukuna who drops his daughter off for the first day of pre-school, telling her that she should punch anyone who messes with her (thankfully nobody yet). and gets a bit emotional again as she walks inside the building, his eyes going glassy watching her skip inside her new chapter.
girl dad! sukuna who's overprotective when it comes to his little girl. a trip to the park was a daily routine for his family — and believe me when he has eyes everywhere for his little girl, if anyone was bothering her, he would have no fear on finding out who their parent was. taking matters into his own hands, leaving the children out of it. as much as he wanted to confront the kid for bothering his little princess, he knew the parents had the most fault.
"your boy has issues. the next time he lays his hand on my girl, i will come for you." he said to the boy's father before walking back to you.
the boy and his father never came back to the park after that day.
girl dad! sukuna who watches his daughter grow from a small girl to an eight year old in a matter of what felt like a week. he swore yesterday she was just babbling out her first word, and the next thing he knows, she's got a "boyfriend" at school? oh, boy.
"you don't have a boyfriend." he mutters out, eyeing his daughter.
"yes i do have a boyfriend," your daughter replies back with her soft voice.
"no."
the banter continued until your daughter ended up in tears, and sukuna had to force himself to say that she indeed had a boyfriend in school. he's upset that she's growing up too quickly, but at the same time — he's proud of his little girl.
girl dad! sukuna who finds out you were pregnant with a second child, who turned out to be another girl. and he was still as loving and caring like he was with his first daughter, this time, he had a helping hand to take care of you.
"mama has a baby in her belly, so you can't be too rough on her, okay?" he baby talks his eight year old daughter like she's still a small baby — he softly caresses your clothed stomach as he speaks to her.
girl dad! sukuna who had to see his first daughter cry over her new "soon to be" born baby sibling. thinking both you and him were not going to love her anymore — and his heart breaks, because why would he not love his princess anymore?
"hey, hey, why're you cryin'?" sukuna tucks [daughter]'s hair behind her ear as she lets out a few fat tears out of her eyes.
"mama and papa will still love me, right?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly.
sukuna pulls the young girl into his embrace, holding her with one of his arm as he wipes her tears with his other, "'f course mama and i will still love you, you're our princess."
girl dad! sukuna who proudly watches his big girl now approaching his newborn daughter and her sister, eyeing the baby with such an innocent glint in her eyes. oh, and big girl? doesn't matter, to sukuna, your first daughter will always be his little girl.
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
I just wanted to drop in and say how proud I am of you for posting your OC x reader fic, and not shying away from sharing it despite excepting low interactions. Please know you're amongst company with it and do your best to lean into the liberation of writing what you want and enjoy the hell out of it. 💗
Thank you so much for this note of encouragement! 🫂❤️ I do know you understand the pain of not getting engagement on the "unpopular" fics we enjoy writing most about! I really want to develop more of that attitude, because the unpopular stories are beautiful too and deserve to be written and shared even just to the few who appreciate them!
I think many people believe that because my blog seems "popular", my writing must be swimming in engagement, but that's simply not true. I am surprised and grateful for my dearest supporters, by how many Asks/Requests I get, and how many New Followers show up, but my fics and HC posts get MUCH less kudos/notes than many other writers I have come across. I'm still not sure what to make of that, and I tell myself it does not mean my writing is bad. There's just a weird disconnect somewhere, I guess. But when you're working against many challenges and obstacles to put fics out, it's hard not to be discouraged by the lack of evidence that it is being read and enjoyed. Feedback is the only proof of that.
Ultimately, I will probably continue writing and sharing for the sake of the precious few loyal readers. They deserve the world! The process would just be so much easier if the reception was just even a little bit better.
i will become insufferable once arcane season 2 gets released
I’m Just Worried About You
Characters: Jaime Reyes x Pregnant!reader
Genre: Fluff, Slight Angsty
Summary: Jaime being a worrywart while your in your 3rd trimester. Most days you think it’s cute and quite funny, but now your fed up.
Warnings: Pregnancy
-
“Oh, I got that for you!” Jaime said and reached above to grab the bowl you were trying to reach. “What cereal do you want?” He asked while looking at you.
You smiled, “Thank you for the bowl, Jaime. But I was gonna get some fruit actually.”
Before you could grab the bowl from Jaime, he walked over to fruit bowl. “What fruit do you want?”
You stared at him, “Jaime, I believe I’m fully capable of picking my own fruit from a bowl.”
Jaime cleared his throat, “Well yea but I wanna help you out, I don’t want you on your feet too much. Just tell me what fruit you want and you can rest on the couch.”
You sighed, this is what Jaime have been like your whole pregnancy, a curse and a blessing. Don’t get you wrong, you extremely appreciated Jaime’s willingness to help you out. Especially when you were dealing with morning sickness, fatigue, and headaches.
But did he have to do everything for you? At all times? It was like he saw you as a piece of glass, one fall and you’d shatter into several broken pieces beyond repair.
But, as annoying his overprotectiveness is, you understood it. You two were first time parents so everything was new, exciting, and downright terrifying.
Neither of you knew what anything meant. If you were tired in the mornings, was that a sign of something serious? If you were back began to ache or if you had a sore feet, that just a pregnancy symptom or something more.
And if you went to google, they’ll tell you the absolute worst of what you could have.
So you understood. Really, you did.
That being said though, you really didn’t need help when walking to the bathroom or getting a snack at night. Which was something Jaime frequently did, holding your arm and back as he guided you to your destination.
You sighed and gave him a stare, “Jaime.”
He looked up at you, “Yes?”
“I think I can manage getting on my own fruit,” you told him and attempted to grab the bowl from him.
His lips twitched in an all too familiar manner. He’s annoyed but he knew you was right so he so he didn’t how to proceed with it.
“Just let me do it,” he pleaded.
You narrowed your eyes are him, “Why?”
You watched as he fidgeted under your gaze. He was clearly hiding something but won’t tell you. Maybe it was embarrassing to talk about or he just didn’t understood his feelings to be able to voice them properly.
Either way, if this is how he’s gonna for the rest of your pregnancy, you at least would like to know why. And maybe you could work from there to get him back off a bit.
You walked closer to him and placed your hand on his arm for support, “Jaime?”
He looked up the ceiling for a second and exhaled through his nose. “I’m….I’m just worried about you, okay? I just…i don't want anything bad to happen so I thought that if I do things for you that would, I don't know, lower the risk maybe?” He covered his eyes with his hands, “I don't know it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”
You shook your head, “No, no Jaime, it’s not stupid. Just…well…”
“Annoying?” he offered and cracked a smile.
You laughed softly as you nodded your head, “Yea, you can call it that. But I get it, yea? It’s scary and new. But I can do things on my own. It might take a bit longer and be a bit more difficult but I can do it.”
Jaime nodded his head and leaned into your touch, “I understand, I’ll try to be less overbearing. But please, if you do need help, ask. Okay?”
You nodded your head and smiled.
It was nice to come to an understanding.
-
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Taglist & Masterlist & Anonlist & Request Info
sobbing for you omg... thats a wild time gap :((
bkue beetle’s finally in hd!! i dont have to take scenes from the trailers for editing anymore!! and i cant wait to see jaime in hd again!!
how to (properly) make tomato soup | gojo satoru
.. it’s three pm, you’re sick, and satoru takes it upon himself to take care of you (except there’s one problem: he does not possess any shred of culinary ability whatsoever).
content: 1.7k words, no explicit gender mention but pet names like angel and baby are used, gojo being silly while geto is absolutely done w his bullshit, reader has a migraine, mainly a self indulgent comfort/crack fic
when you feel the pounding in your ears again, tears start to form in your eyes. fuck, you just can’t help it.
you’re tired. so tired of the constant headaches–the migraines that plague your days and make staying awake completely unbearable.
the familiar ache settles in, but you can tell that this time, it’s much worse than usual. the nauseating pressure that can be described as thousands of needles pricking the back of your eyes, the blinding light in the room that’s assaulting your vision, the overwhelming sounds around you that are so intense to the point where you want to do nothing but cry.
so… that’s exactly what you do.
you succumb to the pain, letting out a choked sob that arguably just makes everything worse. tears slowly make their way down your cheeks, and you put your head in your hands to simultaneously muffle your cries and shield yourself from the light around you. you want to turn off the light. your head screams at you to turn off the light, but you’re so dizzy that you can barely even move.
“y/n?”
-
the first call of your name barely registers amidst the ringing in your ears. you hear it when your name is said a second time, though, and you feel yourself coming back to your surroundings.
he’s… here.
your boyfriend, satoru. yeah, he’s here.
head still buried in your hands, you carefully move one of your fingers to peek at him. he’s crouched down in front of you, a look of concern on his face. he’s saying something…
“where does it hurt, baby?” you’re still so stunned that you can’t find the strength in you to speak. so you close your eyes and point to the area where it hurts the most, sniffling. “is it okay if i massage that area, angel?”
throughout the midst of all your pain and tears, your heart manages to swell. it swells for satoru, because he’s here–he’s present, and he cares about you.
you manage out a small nod, eyes still shut. you let out a shaky breath—a breath that you just found out you were holding, since everything hurt so much that you forgot to breathe.
satoru massages your temples gently, even making an effort to softly wipe the tears off of your face. he feels your forehead with the back of his hand and frowns at your temperature. you’re starting to burn up. “s more than a headache, baby. i’m gonna take you to the bed, okay?”
this was going to be a long afternoon.
he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and gently places you on the mattress. he turns off the lights and draws the blinds shut, providing a welcome respite from the sensory assault just moments ago. you exhale a sigh of relief, slowly opening your eyes as you wipe the dried tears off your face. he climbs into the bed with you, and you instinctively cling to him for support as you wrap your arms around his neck. it hurts. everything hurts, but satoru’s presence makes it slightly more bearable. “my poor angel. have you been overworking yourself lately?”
you bury your face in his neck, finding comfort in being close to your boyfriend. he presses a feather-light kiss on your forehead, and it makes you want to cry again. “maybe. the headaches are getting worse.”
“you should take it easier on yourself. i can’t have you cryin’ like this. not on my watch,” he remarks, making sure to keep his voice low as not to overwhelm you. “y’know, if your migraines were a person, i’d make sure to hollow purple ‘em. no hesitation.”
a soft laugh escapes you, but you regret it almost immediately as it just intensifies the pain. he lets out an apology, but you just huff.
you close your eyes again, exhaustion taking over as your eyelids grow heavier. satoru slowly releases himself from your vice grip, much to your chagrin. you try and weakly protest, but he just shushes you gently. “just go to sleep, baby. i’ll be right back, okay? when was the last time you ate?”
“hm… i remember having a little bit of breakfast when i woke up-”
“alright.” he says, making a mental note that he should make food. “i’m going to go make you something, okay? i promise i’ll be back soon.”
“...don’t burn down the kitchen, please.”
“i can’t promise that, though.”
-
“you found the soup packet? okay, finally. now you just turn on the stove…”
satoru’s a little embarrassed to say that he doesn’t know how to cook.
growing up, he’s had practically everything served to him on a silver platter, so he never had to worry about making his own food. and frankly, despite your statement earlier being a joke, he is genuinely afraid to burn the house down. so, he has his best friend suguru on a video call right now, teaching him–gojo satoru, a twenty-eight-year-old man–how to make instant soup.
“the stove?”
“yeah…? don’t tell me you don’t know-”
“-no, no. i know how to turn the stove on. of course i do.” it feels like he’s trying to convince himself more than suguru. the camera shows satoru in his kitchen, sweating profusely and glaring at the stove like it’s his biggest enemy. satoru has fought countless curses in his life, has had near-death experiences multiple times, and even faced the king of curses himself, but he thinks that everything pales in comparison to this task. he tries to turn the knob, but it won’t budge. “what the hell?-“
“satoru-” it seems like the azure-eyed man doesn’t hear him as he keeps trying to turn on the stove (suguru swears he hears him muttering the phrase “with this treasure i summon”, but that’s not even his technique). he can’t help but facepalm for the hundredth time during the duration of this call. “satoru!”
he finally gets his attention, and satoru looks at his phone and sees geto with a look that screams “are you fucking kidding me?”—or really, just a look of utter disappointment. “you’re turning the stove the wrong way.”
“...”
he turns the knob the opposite way, and the burner sets ablaze instantly.
“oh, yeah… um, i definitely knew that.”
“satoru, how do you survive whenever you’re not on a mission?”
“sometimes i think about that too, really. i think it’s because y/n is the one who always cooks.”
“you think i can’t tell already?”
-
much to both of their surprise, satoru managed to make a pot of tomato soup. it only took him approximately forty-five minutes. satoru seems so proud of himself, meanwhile suguru looks so ready to block his number and never talk to him again.
he pours some of the soup into a bowl, and places it on a tray. he also takes a few painkillers from the medicine cabinet–along with a bottle of water. he thanks suguru for helping him, and is about to hang up but stops short when his best friend freezes. “wait, hold on. did you turn off the stove?”
and after making suguru swear on his life to never speak of this event to you and airing out the house to get rid of the smell of smoke, gojo satoru, “the strongest”, thinks he’s the first ever man to somehow burn a pot full of soup.
“it’s an impressive feat, really.” he claims.
suguru just says that he should never be allowed near a kitchen ever again, and satoru actually finds it in himself to silently agree.
-
an hour has passed, and he sets the tray on the nightstand, relieved that the past hour of his life is finally over, never wanting to do that ever again. you’re sleeping soundly on the bed, and he almost doesn’t have the heart to wake you up, but he knows that you have to eat something. he turns the nightlight on and gently taps you on the shoulder as you wake up with a stir. “toru? s’that you?”
“it’s me. can you wake up for me, baby? i promise you can sleep again after, but you need to eat.” when you slowly sit up from your sleeping position, he places the tray on your lap and softly coaxes you to eat. you take a spoonful of soup into your mouth, relishing in the flavor as you’re just now realizing how hungry you are.
“this is good,” you say, letting out a smile. the nap helped you come back to your senses a little, and you can finally breathe a little easy now that the pounding in your head has eased. “didn’t know you could make this.”
“yeah, well, you better savor it.” cause i’m never making that again.
when you finish the soup, you swallow a few painkillers while taking a greedy gulp of water from the bottle on the tray.
just in case the pain comes back, you think. though you really, really wish that it wouldn’t.
satoru sets the tray on the nightstand, and you settle back into the covers, wanting to just sleep the rest of the day away. satoru follows not long after, turning off the nightlight and letting out a yawn.
you bury your face in his neck once more, kissing him on the cheek. “thank you, for um—for all of this.”
“s nothing. just promise that you won’t overwork yourself again, okay?” he says, carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb.
“i’ll try not to.”
“hey, you can’t say just that. you have to say, ‘i promise not to overwork myself again, toru. i love you, and thank you for the tomato soup.’” he says while poorly imitating your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.
“okay, okay. i promise not to overwork myself again, love. i love you so, so much.” you say while peppering kisses all over his face, and he’s so glad that the lights are off so that you’re unable to see how his cheeks are beet red. “thank you for taking care of me… and for the soup. it was good.”
and as your eyelids begin to grow heavy once more, satoru thinks that his efforts aren’t in vain after all. because the sight of you, finding comfort in his presence, stirs a little bit of determination from within him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d take it upon himself to learn how to properly cook, not just (partially burnt) instant soup, but a real meal for the next time that you’re feeling like this.
and as he watches your chest rise up and down as you sleep, he can’t help but whisper, “yeah. next time, i’ll make you more than just soup. i’ll cook something special, just for you. ‘nd i won’t burn the pot again, either.”
because for you, satoru would do anything as long as he gets to see you happy. and part of that includes learning how to (properly) make tomato soup… and more.
natasya solovyova | art dump!!
i’ve been compiling these over a couple weeks haha, and unfortunately i’ve ended up making her an instagram account to post these up on, so if you’re interested, here’s natasya’s instagram !
this is Dee's reaction to discovering metalcest and other sick ships in the fandom.