in 2025 let’s bring back being enthusiastic on ao3. leave a comment on every chapter. leave kudos and, if necessary, leave “double kudos” in the comments. tags and notes on bookmarks. the whole nine yards. let’s show fanfic authors how much we love them.
“you’re gonna get us caught with the way you keep breathing like that.”
“‘s not my fault, you keep elbowing me!”
“you sound like an ugly stalker in a horror movie who records their victim—“
“who was the one that wanted to see what fushiguro was doing again? oh, right, not me—!” yuuji whisper-shouted, nobara’s face scrunching up into a sneer as her head peeked once more around the corner. her fingers warily placed themselves on the bricked material, scared to even have a chance of getting caught.
in this moment, yuuji and nobara thought, if megumi found it, he couldn’t technically blame them. he had been sneaking around for a while now; brushing them off after assignments to do something else, being on his phone more often. knowing their classmates, the duo knew megumi wouldn’t admit to possibly partaking in mischievous activities ( no matter how much kugisaki hated that word ) so hence why they were perched behind a corner as they watched fushiguro take the same route he always does after missions.
“and why am i an ugly stalker? why am i not cute—” yuuji keened at nobara’s earlier comment before she shushed him, not even bothering to look back before the back of her hand smacked against his lips. a muttered, “ow,” before he, too, leaned in and joined her in tracking what megumi was doing. it didn’t seem too weird, nothing out of the ordinary — maybe he just needed some alone time from everything, itadori thought as he watched him sit on a bunch with his hands shoved in his uniform’s pockets.
nobara gasped, “look!” her friend groaned, rolling his eyes before squinting back into the distance, only to spot megumi’s head tipping up at the chipper call of his name and a pretty face making its way towards him. both of their eyebrows furrowed in confusion before their jaws dropped in utter shock at the sight of their friend — who had managed a small smile. they couldn’t believe it, megumi fushiguro smiling.
“how did fushiguro pull before me?” yuuji uttered, his brown eyes locked on your figure as you walked across the street, still in your school uniform as the looser parts of the fabric swayed with the breeze. nobara scoffed, giving him a side eye before she muttered, “is that even a question?”
“what the hell,” the synchronization of which their voices came as one at the sight before them had to be loud enough to alert you if their failed attempts of stealth didn’t already. they watched as megumi got up from the wooden bench and stood there — until your arms wrapped around his neck in an eager hug. nobara put a hand on her chin, tapping out as she fully concealed herself behind the wall; yuuji continuing to watch the two of you. she huffed, “they’re too pretty, so fushiguro has to be paying them or something — i mean, he has a partner before i do? unheard of.”
“‘s not like guys are begging to be dropped at your feet, you’re too intimidating.” yuuji’s eyes stayed fixated on fushiguro, how content he actually looked with you. he let out a little, ‘hmm’ before kugisaki’s palm came down on the back of his neck, causing his hand to fly and soothe his injury.
she pointed a finger at him, “what’s that supposed to mean? you’re no panty dropper yourself—!”
“at least i’m cute.”
“you had us watch the human earthworm the other night in your dorm, that was disgusting.”
and as they bickered on and on, going back and forth between why they didn’t have significant others already — you and megumi remained peaceful in your own company, just the two of you as you walked along the sidewalk to the stop signs. the way it was already getting dark out made it clear it was time for you to get back home, and as per usual, he walked you there.
but along the way, you looked around. at the sky — painted a nice rose while the sun set, megumi who was practically tucked inside his uniform ( that hug made him a little more flustered than he’d care to admit ), and to the ground below you. you smiled, “were those your friends?”
he looked at you and scoffed, lifting his head up so that his mouth was no longer covered by the thick fabric of his clothes. “more like pains in my ass.” you lightly pushed him with a small mumble of, “don’t say that.”
his lip quirked up a bit before returning to his usual scowl, you’d always joke that he just had a resting bitch face — which was partially true, he guessed, even if he didn’t admit it at the time. “they’re my classmates, not a lot of other first years there, so,” he pressed his lips together, “guess you can call them my friends.”
you let out a chuckle ( by far megumi’s favorite sound that he’s ever heard ), before your shoes stopped at the corner. you looked both ways on the road despite it being mainly dead before your eyes fell back on megumi. extending your hand, you tilted your head the same way he did when he had looked at your palm. “hold my hand?”
“isn’t this stuff for little kids?” he muttered, not even giving you a second to pout before he took your hand in his. he let you walk in front of him as you crossed the street, your shoes scraping softly against the rough road and stray dirt.
“eh, but look who obliged me anyway.”
he huffed, looking away as you made small talk about your day. megumi could never deny you, even if a gun was pointed to his head. seeing you ramble with stars in your eyes that afternoon, he couldn’t help but let an amused smile grace his face, hoping you were too distracted to notice. meanwhile — nobara and yuuji watched as you two walked hand in hand, the former fake gagging at the minor display of affection while the latter watched in wonder.
megumi would kick their asses later in training. for now, he’d walk you home and think of you on the way back — just as he always did.
pairing satoru gojo x f!reader
word count 1.2k
synopsis gojo is surprisingly good at caring. (or: he comforts you while you get morning sickness and start spiraling).
content contains thr*wing up (morning sickness), pregnancy, pregnant!reader, domestic fluff, soft!gojo, reassurance
Satoru Gojo knows he’s a dead man from the minute he swings open the bathroom door and finds you curled up by the toilet.
Even in his shirt and a pair of sweatpants that have clearly seen better days, with your hair all messed up and your lips chapped, Gojo thinks you are absolutely adorable. Beautiful, even.
He tells you this, thinking it’ll cheer you up, but all you do is narrow your pretty little eyes at him.
“You,” you practically snarl at him. “You did this to me!”
He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Now, honey, I know it’s been a while since you took a biology class, but it takes two of us to, you know—” He gestures to your stomach, which still isn’t showing much of a bump since it’s only the first trimester, but you get the message. He decides he should have just shut up whenever you send him an absolutely scathing glare.
“It’s all my fault.” He immediately changes his tune. “You’re right, honey, I am an awful person for getting you pregnant. You should kill me for my transgressions.”
“You want to make me a single mother now?” You snap at him.
“Okay, I see that that was the wrong thing to say.” Gojo tries to give you a soothing smile to calm you down, but it comes off as more of a nervous grimace. “I would never die early and let you raise our wonderful child alone. As a matter of fact, I refuse to die only until you tell me it’s okay to do so!”
“Satoru.” You close your eyes, opening the toilet lid, anticipating another bout of morning sickness to come spilling out your mouth. “Get out.”
“Nah. That’s the one thing I can’t do.” He dares to take another step into the bathroom, frowning at how cold the marble tiles are. It can’t possibly be comfortable for you to be kneeling on the floor like this, especially since you’re throwing up last night’s dinner.
“Satoru, I’m not being funny right now. I’m seriously about to vomit, and you won’t want to be here.”
He kneels down by your side, gathering your hair in his hand and pulling it all behind your shoulders. “I’m not being funny, either. I’ll stay by your side no matter what.”
You don’t reply to his sweet comment, even though you really want to. Instead, you actually do make good on your word, and only after you flush the toilet does he bother saying anything else.
“Do you feel a bit better now?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know!” You shut your eyes, leaning against him, your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. Being pregnant sounded hot during the heat of the moment when the baby was being made, but now reality is hitting, and you’re already crying about how ugly maternity clothes are. You look like a wreck right now, and you’re barely nine weeks in with the pregnancy. Meanwhile, Satoru looks fan-fucking-tastic, as he always does.
His hand finds yours easily, and he intertwines your fingers together. He starts to absentmindedly fiddle with your wedding ring as he talks.
“What’s bothering you?”
You know that while Satoru was pursuing you, there was a long line of women all excited and ready to be the one by his side. You know that Satoru sometimes is a certified flight risk, running away from intimacy when the feeling gets too overwhelming for him. You know that Satoru is the only man capable of breaking your heart, and he’s subsequently the only man who would be able to piece it back together. Even with a ring and a legal certificate binding you two together, there are still annoying little doubts running in the back of your mind that has only worsened through your anxiety of life literally being grown inside of you and unbalanced hormones.
“Everything.” You tell him, and it’s not even a joke or an exaggeration.
“Well, tell me something that’s bothering you now. Something I can solve.” He adds on this last sentence, already knowing that you would most likely ask him for the impossible just to be funny. As conceited as he acts to the outside world, Satoru is surprisingly caring and observant towards others.
“What if our baby is ugly?” You look up at him, gauging his reaction.
At first, his eyes widen, and then he laughs. You can tell it’s genuine because you can feel the way it comes from his chest.
“It has us as its parents. With both our genes combined, it won’t have much to worry about.”
“No! I’m serious! Haven’t you heard the saying that two pretty people make an ugly baby?”
“Well, we’ll be the exception.”
“I’m being serious, Satoru! Your eyes are kinda scary to look at sometimes. Our baby will need brown contacts if it inherits your eyes.”
Oh, so because you’re emotionally fragile, you’re allowed to make comments about his eyes? Satoru snorts. You better be lucky he loves you so much.
“Why does it matter if our baby is ugly? Why is our baby being ugly even a thought in your mind?”
“This world sucks. Looking good is key to having an enjoyable experience on earth. You should start worrying about our child’s future, too, you know!”
“I would fight the entire world if it mistreated our baby.” Satoru presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “And I know you would, too. So who cares if our baby is ugly?”
“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You frown, knowing that you’re being ridiculous right now, but who else could handle you in this state if not him? There’s a reason why he’s the one you call your husband, and he’s the one who put the aforementioned potentially-ugly baby inside of you.
“Fine. If our baby is ugly, let’s leave it on Kento’s doorsteps and let it be his problem for the next eighteen years. Then, we can get started on the next and hope the second time’s the charm. Sounds like a solid plan?” He doesn’t mean it, but he knows it’s best to just try and nip these hypotheticals in the bud.
You’re silent for a moment. Then, “You’re awful! I would love our baby, even if it had your eyes and crazy ass hair.”
“I would love our baby, too. Ugly or not. You know why?”
“You’re going to say something corny.”
“I was going to say that I would love our baby because it came from you. Nothing ugly is coming out of your body, babe. And anyway, I love you so much, how could I hate anything that’s literally half you?”
Even if you’re in the mood to be annoying and insecure, and your brain is telling you to argue some more with your husband, you can’t help but relax after hearing this.
(Nine months later, all your worries seem to be all for naught; your son is the cutest thing to be born.)
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