When They Have Bad Dreams
Features: gojo; megumi; yuuji; inumaki; junpei; gender neutral reader (Megumi's might imply more AFAB though considering Zen'ins)
Content warning: fluff; angst; hurt/comfort; mentions of canon typical violence
He tossed and turned all night. His mind couldn’t escape the nightmare playing on loop, making rest near impossible. Hurried pants left his lips as his bad dream reached an apex too shocking for his sleeping mind to take. It’s with a gasp that he finally springs up, panting violently, eyes blown wide, and drenched with sweat.
Gojo doesn’t remember the last time he’s had a dream like this. He was in a fight with a curse, and everything was going smoothly until you’re captured. As the strongest, it should be easy for him to come to save you. But as soon as he tried to use his curse technique, it didn’t come. Instead, all of his powers melted away and suddenly everything became too real. The shock was overwhelming to the point he couldn’t even move as the curse pierced your chest right in front of him. As the blood drained down, he only thought, “Why couldn’t he save you?” He’s the strongest so he was supposed to save you. He didn’t get an answer as another curse stabbed through him as well.
“It’s kind of a stupid dream, right? Looks like I woke you up for nothing.” He laughed deep and smoothly but you could sense the heaviness in that laughter as his blue eyes slightly squinted in dissatisfaction at his own worries.
“Satoru,” you softly whispered, arm coming up so you can stroke some of the sweat from the side of his face with the back of your palm. “I’m not going to die that easily, and if something like that ever happens, I’ll protect you instead. So, you don’t have to worry about dying either.”
As you offer him a comforting smile, Satoru couldn’t help but think you protecting him is exactly what he’s afraid of.
Megumi wasn’t a bully, and he’s never once thought to hurt you, never even raised a hand to you other than to lightly tap the back of your palm when you’d try to steal fries off his plate. He couldn’t really hurt the one person he cared about most in this world. Still, he could only dream about the nastiest things sometimes when it came to you—his hand shoving you to the ground, a tear leaking down your swollen cheek, not at the pain of him striking you but at the words he’d call you: pathetic, stupid, worthless. He blames his own insecurities for manifesting such thoughts. Megumi tried to shove it down. Ignore it because he knew he loved you and that no one would ever abuse someone they were supposed to love if they truly loved them, but it’s this time when you fight that makes the nightmare impossible to keep to himself any longer.
“Your father was right to sell you. You’re nothing but a Zen’in through and through, Megumi,” you said before abandoning him too.
Megumi broke down in front of you, something that worried you as you’ve never witnessed him like this. “I don’t say it often, but I love you. I do. I don’t know why I have these dreams, but I would never ever hurt you. You have to know that. Please say you know that.”
“I do. Megumi-kun…is way too kindhearted to do something like that,” you reassured, intertwining your fingers with his to provide some comfort to his racing mind and to remind him of the promise sealed in silver around his finger. “Besides if I thought you could ever hurt me, I would’ve stayed in my arranged marriage to Naoya-san instead.”
Megumi grumbled softly. “It’s not like the Zen’in would disapprove of you marrying me. Whether it’s him or me, it’s the same thing in their eyes.”
“But it’s not the same to me, because you’re the one I love, Gumi,” you affectionately replied and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips. His heart was pounding even before you kiss him again. “Show me that you love me too, okay?” you gently requested as you slid your arm around his waist and pushed him back down to the bed.
Megumi feels he’ll have pleasant dreams tonight.
Yuuji loved you. He knew from day one that he loved you, which meant Sukuna knew as well.
The curse wasted no time turning all of Yuuji’s pleasant thoughts of you into morbid curiosities. Every time Yuuji thought of how good-looking or sweet you are, Sukuna was quick to echo in his head about how much better your body would look filleted and grilled over low heat or the fun things he wanted to do to you.
It was only a matter of time that the boy should have nightmares about it. About blacking out during a fight as Sukuna took over, only to wake up to find your neck wrapped in his large hands, your head lolled back as if you had no strength to lift it, and your eyes lacking the light of life they once had.
Yuuji didn’t bother to throw on anything more than a pair of sweats as he stalked to your room. He ignored all the laughter in his head from Sukuna at how pathetic he looked dragging his feet like a child who just pissed the bed and was going to tell his parent. Yuuji’s fist came rapping at your door, and you answered with a yawn, rubbing your hand over sleepy eyes only to gasp when you see Itadori.
He’s sure he looked awful, bags under his eyes and his hair clinging to his forehead from his sweating. “Hey…can we talk?” he asked, and you know, you already know he had the dream again.
You grasped his hand softly and pulled him inside. “Always.”
Inumaki was always careful with what he said. Having to grow up with only a specific set of words to use in everyday life for his technique made him an expert at not saying things he didn’t mean at least if it wasn’t in the form of a food ingredient.
But that didn’t stop the two of you from getting into a fight that landed with you sleeping on the couch out of frustration. That night, he dreamed of that fight again, but the conclusion was very different as he lets words he doesn’t mean slip from his mouth.
And so you did, angrily in fact as you growled out at him. “You didn’t have to use your technique for that.”
With guilt clawing in his stomach, Inumaki clambered out of bed and walked to your shared living space to see if you were still awake. Luckily, you’re awake but with your body turned inward towards the couch and your arms drew over your chest.
“I’m not coming to bed,” you said before he even gets a chance to talk.
Curious, you turned over, more than a little huffy as you meet his eye. “Then, what is it?”
Not wanting to argue anymore, Inumaki shook his head and waved his pointed fingers in front of his neck a few times. “Tuna.”
“Are you apologizing?” you asked, and Inumaki nodded affirmatively before clasping his hands together to make a heart.
He watched as you slowly relaxed and brought your hands together to match his. Inumaki smiled softly, the curse marks on the side of his mouth dimpling with his cheeks. You giggled.
“Fine, fine. I forgive you. You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
Inumaki chuckled before letting out a soft demand,
You shifted over so he could have enough room to lay with you. “You know you don’t have to use your technique for that,” you teased as he snuggled against your chest.
Junpei was no stranger to nightmares. He’s had them all his life. At least until he met you, and the nightmares became pleasant dreams instead.
But now the nightmares were back. All he could see was your back distancing from him as you moved on to someone less pathetic, someone who could give you everything you ever wanted instead of only tears and cynicism. He wasn’t sure who that person was as you simply disappeared out of his reach, but he knew he doesn’t want to lose you to anyone. You, the person who laughs at horror movies. You, the person who tends to the physical wounds etched into his skin and emotional wounds carved into his soul, the one person besides his mother who made it easier to remember that there’s still light in this dark world.
When Junpei woke up, he immediately reached for his phone and dialed your number on impulse. He waited for it to inevitably go to voice mail, and he heard your voice recorded on the other side. “Hey, it’s me. I-I’m sorry to be calling so late, but I didn’t know who else to talk to. I’ve been having these weird dreams lately, and I,” Junpei paused, trying not to choke up as the tears started to leak out, “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow when you get out of school. It’s been a while since we’ve watched movies together, and…”
Junpei froze, feeling utterly pathetic to think you’d respond when you hadn’t bothered to even text him back last time. Sighing, he hung up before he could complete the message, and he found another name instead. Junpei was happy that this one picks up.
“Mahito, I had that dream again, and I think you’re right. I don’t think (y/n) wants to be friends with me anymore.”
“We’ve been over this, Junpei, these things happen. People are fickle creatures easily distracted by the things they think they deserve and so easy to be blinded about things that are right in front of them. You’re better off without thinking about such fools.”
Junpei tightened his shaking grip on the phone.
“I know, Mahito, but…this time it’s different,” Junpei explained, his hand twitching as he reached to his left pectoral. His fingers sunk into his shirt and clenched as if he could hold and comfort his painfully swelling heart now that you’re not here to do it for him, “...It hurts.”
“In that case, how about you meet me tomorrow, and I can show you how to forget about all those bitter feelings,” Mahito offered. His suggestion was sympathetic to Junpei, but his smile was malicious as he thought about how you said the very same as you cried for your friend to save you. “It’s fine. It’s fine. You don’t have to thank me. I’m happy to help you out anytime.”
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