Down Bad Crying

SMAU: not wanting them to drink out the same straw as u

INCL: gojo, geto, nanami, toji and choso

WARNING: suggestive lang

AN: brooo I need more request bc im actually running out of ideas

minors dni

; synopsis . . . the jjk characters accidentally send nudes.. how embarrassing!!!!

; warnings . . . talks of nudity (duh), dense ahh characters

; featuring . . . satoru gojo. suguru geto. kento nanami. choso kamo. toji fushiguro. takuma ino. shoko ieiri.

°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔

​You noticed that six-year-old Yuji had been looking in the mirror a lot lately. He was constantly studying his face and playing with his hair. As he did the exact same thing right now, a fond smile touched your lips. You walked up behind him, resting your hands gently on his small shoulders.

"Looks like someone really loves looking in the mirror."

He turned to you and smiled.

"Mommy! I look like Daddy!" he said.

"Ah, so that's why. You were discovering how much you look like your dad."

"Look, my eyes and my hair... just like his!"

His excitement made you giggle. You ruffled his hair and kissed his rosy cheeks.

"Yes, baby. You're a mini version of your dad."

​Lately, everyone who saw him kept saying how much he looked like his father. The boy had heard it so many times that he actually started to notice the resemblance himself.

​When Sukuna walked into the room, Yuji shared his discovery with him too.

"Daddy, look at me!"

He widened his tiny eyes as if to prove it and pointed at his pink hair.

"Look, we're exactly the same!"

A small, smug smile appeared on Sukuna’s face.

"You're your father's son, kid."

Hearing his dad's words, Yuji's face lit up. But then, a sudden thought about you seemed to cross his little mind.

"I don’t look like Mama."

You pouted slightly.

"You didn’t have to say that right to my face, Yuji."

Sukuna let out a short chuckle, a lazy, playful smirk on his lips.

"Sorry about that," he murmured. "My genes are just a bit too stubborn."

You rolled your eyes.

Encouraged by his dad's laughter, the little boy turned back to the mirror with a proud grin.

"My lips, my nose... all Daddy!"

You let out a soft laugh.

"Yeah... You really do look like your dad."

"I didn’t know you loved your father quite this much," Sukuna teased, a hint of deep amusement in his voice.

Yuji hugged Sukuna's legs tightly and looked up at him.

"I love my daddy sooo much!"

Sukuna ran his hand through Yuji's pink hair, ruffling it gently.

-> 0.8k, sfw!

you insisted on going to the horror movie night with your new boyfriend, sukuna, after overhearing his idiot frat brothers whispering about you.

“she’s really soft.”

“i've never seen ryo with a girl like her.”

“watch her piss herself at the first jumpscare.”

laughter all around.

and maybe it was stupid, but you wanted to prove them wrong. prove you could handle the same things as the girls he usually kept around. cool girls. confident girls. mature girls who didn’t cling to their boyfriend’s sleeve every five minutes.

so you sat beside sukuna and in that freezing theater, chin lifted stubbornly, pretending your stomach wasn’t already twisting from the opening music alone.

for the first thirty minutes, you held it together.

barely.

your hands feel weird. empty, you note suddenly.

then you look at your boyfriend walking just 2 steps ahead of you. both of his hands full of shopping bags and grocery packets.

it must be heavy. it is heavy. that's why sukuna is carrying them and not you. you give a sigh of appreciation as your eyes roam over his frame.

tall , dressed in dark shades, muscles pulled taut. quite the head turner. and more than capable of carrying a few bags, you mentally note.

your friends often complained about their partners expecting to split the baggage. half n half and shit that felt so absurd to you that you had obnoxiously bragged about your husband demanding that you 'do not lift a single finger'.

the girls had the audacity to look skeptical.

you pull up the camera app on your phone and click record.

"baby?" you call out, pretending to scroll. the camera records your man as he half turns his head.

"why aren't you holding my hand?" you demand like a spoiled brat. you catch the faint upward tug of his lips as he turns his head to face forward again.

then he releases his pinky from under his grip on the bags and slightly points it. you let out a happy sound and grab onto it. making a point of zooming in your camera on the view.

then you reverse the camera and film your face.

sukuna often tells you to wipe that smug look off your face. but how can you when you bagged such a hot deal?

so you give your brattiest grin and lean your head against his bicep. the camera doesn't capture his face, he is too tall for that.

sukuna doesn't comment, even as he watches the display. what can he say? he quite likes being shown off by his princess.

TAGLIST : @thebedrotter @ram3nsukuna @in-aa @anonymous123sm @lyr1sss

a/n : we r so back

♯ a bit rushed bc i did it in a rush also ❤️☺️

Nanami had never considered himself a jealous man.

possessive, perhaps, in small ways. protective? certainly.

but jealousy? it was messy. the sort of thing that clouded judgement and made people act irrationally.

Nanami preferred facts.

and the fact was that you were free to spend time with anyone. the fact that your smile didn't belong to him. and the fact that he trusted you completely.

but why—why had he spent the last twenty minutes staring at his phone?

the photo on the screen was harmless for god's sake!

a group picture from a company dinner. you sat near the center, smiling oh so sweetly to the camera.

but the problem is there was a man sitting beside you.

nothing appropriate or suspicious. just a coworker. a coworker whose arm was slung casually over the back of your chair.

a coworker who seemed to appear in every photos your friend posted. a coworker whose name you had mentioned bunch of times this week without realizing it.

Nanami locked his phone and set it face down on the table.

he hated this feeling. Not because he distrusted you.

there was no reason for the knot tightening in his chest.

there is no logical explanation for why he suddenly found himself wondering whether you smiled that brightly around everyone. or whether you looked at everyone the way you looked at him.

the apartment door opened suddenly, snapping him out of his trance.

"Kento?" your voice drifted through the hallway.

you stepped into the living room, smiling when you saw him.

"There you are."

Nanami returned the smile automatically.

but as you sat beside him and started talking about your day, he found himself listening for one name. and when it finally appeared in the conversation? his jaw tightened.

your words faltered. "Kento?" you looked at him carefully.

for a moment, neither of you spoke.

then, quietly, you asked. "Is there something wrong?"

he met your gaze briefly before looking away.

the silenced stretched. not uncomfortable, just heavy. Nanami wasn't entirely sure how to answer.

you knew your husband too well to notice when something was off.

"Kento."

"Hm."

"You're doing that thing."

his brows furrowed slightly. "What thing?"

"The thing where you pretend nothing's bothering you."

you moved closer on the couch, turning toward him fully.

"Did something happen at work?"

"No."

"Did someone annoy you?"

"Not particularly."

"Are you tired?"

"Always."

your expression only softened.

your fingers reached for his hand without thinking. you interwined your fingers with his.

"C'mon, talk to me?"

you waited patiently, giving him space to speak.

Nanami hated that he was making this difficult.

eventually, he said, "Who is he?"

you blinked. "...who?"

"The coworker."

your eyes widened slightly. "Oh."

for several seconds, you said nothing.

then, "Are you jealous?"

Nanami closed his eyes briefly. "Perhaps," he sighed.

your expression softened even further.

you shifted closer until your shoulder rested against his.

"I found him annoying," you started. "He talks too much, he steals food, he's arrogant too."

the corner of Nanami's mouth twitched. you caught it immediately.

"There he is."

"I was here the entire time."

"No, you were somewhere in your own head."

you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.

"I don't smile because of him," you sighed. "I smile because i was having fun."

his gaze softened. "I know," he admitted.

"Then why are you suffering by yourself?"

a faint huff escaped him, not quite a laugh.

"Because," he pulled your joined hands closer. "I was hoping it would stop if i ignored it."

"Did it work?"

"No."

you laughed. "That was unfortunate."

he laughed along with you. "It was."

the knot in his chest began to loosen.

not because the jealousy had vanished. but because you were looking at him exactly the way you always had.

Gilgamesh's lightcone in HSR had no need to look THIS good but it is and I'm mad about it

he’s left you with no shoes, no coat, no money. you’re certain you’ll freeze to death with the muddy snow at your feet before you try making it to the nearest police station. the cops brush you off a strung out junkie when you come in half dressed and barefoot crying about how bruce wayne kidnapped you and that he’s really the batman in disguise. you’re told to beat it before they throw you out. you try to make it downtown, somewhere safer where the cops don’t take three business days to respond to a call, but you can’t feel your feet anymore and its a miracle no one’s mistaken you for a hooker.

the horror of realizing that, unfortunately, your safest option is to call bruce and beg him to come get you, chills you down to the bone in a way that the snow could never. it’ll be different next time, you’ll be more prepared. you’re snatched out of the payphone booth before you can even realize what’s happening and shoved into a darkened alleyway. taking broken glass to the foot and bloody scrapes from the brick walls leave you wailing and sobbing for him. the man throws you to the ground and makes you soaked from the dirty snow, pushing your gown up with the sole of his boot between your shaking legs. his name is echoing off the walls as you scream for him.

it’s blur when bruce swoops in out of the shadows and throws the masked man out into the street. he shushes your wails softly when he wraps you in his cape and tells you its alright now. it’s just like he told you, isn’t it? the streets of gotham are too rough for you, too chilling. nothing can hurt you while you’re in his arms. it’s better if you just stay put.

1. borrowing misery from future

2. carrying grief of the past

All we said was… The "I Knew It, I Knew You" Music Video is out now! ☁️ Watch on Spotify and Apple Music.