一 welcome & thanks for stopping by my blog. i enjoy daydreaming and writing ficlets during the wee-hours of the night. my main is @heresan so you might see me interact and follow from there.
i’m currently open for fic/hc suggestions so feel free to submit something at any time.
minors dni with nsfw (18+) content
rules & guidelines ✧ jjk masterlist ✧ story recs
RECENT WORKS :
— boyfriend quiz ; gojo satoru
— gojo nsfw hcs (mdni)
— haibara dating hcs
一 break up prank ; gojo
toji loving hours 💫
the softer side | chasing moonlight | murmur of syllables
touch-starved!gojo with slight sensory issues after a long life adapted to his infinity being on almost all the time
touch-starved!gojo who shudders every time he feels the brush of your fingers against any exposed skin of his, who feels goosebumps rise on the back of his neck whenever you give him a hug (he hopes you can’t feel the way his heart starts racing, either)
touch-starved!gojo who needs a little bit of time to get used to your physical affection. he loves it, oh he loves it so much, but it makes his heart beat so so fast and his hands get clammy, the deep red blush on his face goes from the tips of his ears all the way down to his collarbone, he starts stuttering and, like — he’s satoru gojo… he doesn’t stutter but when you squeeze his arm in an affectionate gesture or even something little like poking his cheek or booping his nose it gets this reaction out of him that he isn’t used to, it’s almost overwhelming
touch-starved!gojo who, once used to your touch, craves it all the time. he’s about as clingy as a cat that just has to be sitting on or around you all the time every time you sit down, nudging his head under the palm of your hand to encourage you to stroke his hair, grabbing your wrist and putting your hand anywhere on his body: sometimes he brings it up to his face so you can cup his cheek or he’ll put it on his head so you can tangle your fingers in his hair. also likes to intertwine his fingers with your own and hold them close to his chest, right above his heart, or maybe even hold your hand on his lap whenever he sits down next to you
touch-starved!gojo who slowly and surely opens up to your affection and realizes just how badly he’d been craving this kinda closeness with somebody. he feels a literal ache in his chest when you’re both in the same room and he’s not hugging you, he feels like he has to be attached at the hip with you or else he’ll just die
touch-starved!gojo who is oh so vocal when you’re doing more intimate stuff in the privacy of your (or his) bedroom. it just feels so good to be completely full of the sensation of being with you, of getting to hold you, of being held. he would live in your skin if you’d let him, he wraps his arms tightly around you and if he’s not kissing your breath away he’s burying your face in the crook of your neck and letting your name slip out in between soft pants. even after you’re both done he’s falling asleep with his arms and legs wrapped all around you like a giant koala
satoru tries to beat the bad cook allegations and win his girls back
girl dad satoru, established relationship — you’re married & have a daughter (oc), her name is sora, f! reader, reader is referred to as “mama”, mentions of food, this is a silly little thing, not proofread, wc: 1.2k
satoru can be a lot of things — the strongest sorcerer, the most loving and devoted husband, the world’s greatest dad, society’s biggest menace, and according to some “the owner of the most annoying heh” — but there’s one thing he most definitely isn’t. a good cook.
but ever since you had a family brunch gathering at nanami’s place where the latter had singlehandedly prepared a feast, without letting his wife lift a single finger even when it came to setting the table, satoru took it upon himself to prove that he can be as good of a cook as nanami, or even better.
the way you and your five-year-old daughter, sora, looked as if you’ve just tasted heaven while savoring each bite was a blow below the belt for satoru, while the finishing one was you complimenting nanami and telling his wife how she is the luckiest woman alive to have a husband who’s so skilled and willing in the kitchen because satoru can’t even boil water — to which sora nodded in agreement, “papa really sucks in the kitchen.”
it’s been two weeks ever since and you regret ever making that snarky remark about satoru’s incompetence because you’ve been banned from the kitchen all along, not even allowed to pour yourself a glass of water — all you have to do is ask and your husband will do it for you while you sit back and watch as the state of your kitchen worsens with each passing day.
he would occasionally have sora keep him company and help him prep the ingredients, sometimes even take the first bite if the end product looks edible, but for you the kitchen was completely off limits, he’s got a point to prove — that he is the best husband and you should’ve never said those flattering words about his friend in the first place because he can’t stand it when you acknowledge in any way any other man that isn’t him.
satoru’s determination is strong. he has no intention of letting this matter go, not until he sees that same expression on you and your daughter’s face — this is his life goal right now, he cannot have his two most important girls swayed by another man’s cooking, not even if that man is nanami (and especially because it’s him).
you might be running out of usable plates and pans, as they’re either broken or burnt, but satoru is definitely making progress. all the cooking videos he’s watched and the tips he’s gotten from talking to mothers on online forums are finally paying off because today, for the first time ever, he didn’t burn the pancakes for breakfast.
“papa”, sora looks with disapproving eyes at her dad, her cheeks squished between her tiny palms as she’s leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter.
“yes, my life”, satoru crouches down to her level. even though she’s standing on the toddler step stool her head can barely reach his hips. but whenever satoru talks to her, he always, without fail, either squats down or leans forward or holds her in his arms — because in those moments it’s just him and his little princess against the world, on equal footing always so he can hear her better and never miss a single expression she makes. “what’s with that look, hm?”, he nuzzles his flour covered nose against hers, the action itself causing some of the white particles to smudge on hers too.
“the pancakes look like pancakes this time but mama will not like this mess you made, again” — the sink is filled to the brim, there’s flour and baking powder on every single surface — counter, table, chairs, floor, the butter has started melting because satoru placed it too close to the stove after using some of it, there’s eggshells on the floor — any clean freak’s biggest nightmare.
“the mess i made?”, he gasps, “aren’t you an accomplice in this, little miss?”
“no”, she flatly denies, “i only watched you and broke the eggs”
“on the floor, that is”
“it’s because you said pick three eggs while i can only carry two, look—”, she stretches her tiny hands forward, palms facing up, to prove her point, “i have only two hands and they’re not big like yours, how am i supposed to hold the third one?”
satoru chuckles at her genuinely puzzled face, “you’re right, my life”, he replies through a soft smile after taking her hands into his and peppering kisses on the inside of each, “papa didn’t consider this”
“it’s okay, papa”, sora rests her forehead against her dad’s, “i am a big girl now, i will help you clean after breakfast”
“but you’ll always be my little girl no matter how old you get”, satoru whispers softly, lifting her up with just one arm so his free hand can gently caress the back of her head as she comfortably nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, “which is why papa will take care of it”
“but first”, he sits her on the countertop and cuts a small piece of the pancake for her to taste. “say aah”, he holds the fork to her mouth, eagerly observing every gesture on her face as she takes the bite and starts chewing. it’s definitely not the look she made while eating nanami’s cooking but she doesn’t seem to hate it either.
“papa.”
“yes, my life?”, satoru looks at her expectantly.
“can i be honest with you?”
“yes, of course you can”
“uncle nanamin does it better”, she admits to which satoru instantly deflates, “but—”
“but?”, a tiny spark of hope makes it back to his sulking eyes.
“i wouldn’t trade your pancakes for the world”
“YESSS”, satoru triumphantly pumps his fist in the air and spins around beaming with joy, “got one of my girls back on my team — now let’s hear your mother’s verdict… but hold on”, his face painted in concern again.
“hmm?”, sora questions the sudden change in his demeanor.
“sora.”, satoru speaks in a rather serious voice.
“papa?”
“you’re not saying this just because i’m your papa, right?”
“well, it’s partly because of it actually”, sora pauses for a second, trying to pick the right words before continuing, “but it’s because you put so much love and effort to make me and mama happy that it makes anything you do my favorite thing in the world, and i wouldn’t trade it for anything, papa”
“i haven’t tasted the pancakes yet but i must agree with sora on this”, your voice reaches them from behind as you stand leaning on the doorframe. you came following the sweet and warm aroma wafting through the air but found yourself accidentally eavesdropping on their little heart-to-heart talk. “you put your heart and soul for us always — aren’t we the luckiest girls in the world?”, you wink at sora and she nods.
satoru sighs in relief, “if i can’t give you the best of everything that means i am a failure both as a husband and as a father. because you two are my biggest blessing and i only live to make you happy. also — you’re still not allowed in the kitchen, so just stay there and wait for the pancakes.”
