Bestfriend!satoru Who Spam Comments Under All Your Posts And Makes Sure To Let Everyone Know That He’s

you are the first girl whose smile won gojo over, and he fell in love with you unconditionally, but your daughter, who became an extension of both of your lives, showed him another form of love.

you often like to tease him that she took everything after her father, but at one point, when satoru was playing with her, he could not believe his eyes when he saw that she had an exact cope of your smile. he experienced that unimaginable feeling again, but in a completely different way — it is something precious, something that connects you.

“satoru?”

“she has your smile.”

birthday candles with gojo !

"what," satoru whines, twisting his fingers into the hem of your old sweater. "is it illegal to want m'girl blowing out the birthday candles?"

you squirm in his lap to no avail, hips trapped by his arms and shoulder pinned under his chin. your boyfriend pouts up at you, big blue eyes sparkling.

"they're your candles, 'toru."

"but you're my girl," he counters, sidling up close to press a sticky kiss to your cheek. "look, the wax is melting already."

you reach back, brushing over the short, white hairs curling around his nape. "need me to do everything for you, huh?"

with a short puff, the room goes dark. little boxes of light still blink in through the slats in the blinds of satoru's apartment, but now it's mostly just you cradled in his lap, saccharine candle smoke wafting around your heads.

a quiet exchange of breaths, and—

"ahh," satoru voices next to your ear, finger pointing at his open mouth.

you oblige (as you always do), sinking a fork into cream and chiffon.

turning in his lap, you cup his jaw in one hand and shove the cake into his mouth with the other. and as a gift, you seal it with a kiss, smearing cream on your lips.

"happy?" it's a question that comes with a head tilt and a smile.

"best birthday ever," is what satoru says before diving back in.

— hbd to my glorious blue eyed king.. pls talk/interact if u enjoyed, gojo said so ᡣ𐭩

© mawaaru 2024 :: do not repost, plagiarize, translate, modify, or use any works to train ai

This isn’t the first time Iwaizumi’s heard the team talking about you.

“Just seems ta not wanna be here an’ doesn’t even like us…” Miya reflects after practice as Bokuto fervently nods. “Never comes out with us, even ta eat…”

Kageyama grumbles “doesn’t stay late when we’re doing extra practice.”

“Hasn’t shared any social media with us,” Hoshiumi adds.

He thinks about it a lot, what the guys said.

What they’ve been saying.

You’re a different kind of manager than most of them have had and from the outside it would seem like you’re not particularly invested in the job, in the team.

Everything the guys say is true.

You’re not overly enthusiastic, you don’t spend any time with anyone on the team outside of practice, you don’t show up early and don’t stay late, no one’s been able to find you on social media, and no one’s been given your cellphone number. You have a work phone through which they can reach you but it’s not yours.

And then they find out.

“Completely makes sense now…Uncle Hibarida’s the one we hafta thank fer our manager,” Miya complains. “A bit’a nepotism an’ we’re denied a key asset.”

There’s a round of shared sentiments and you’re suddenly even more out-of-the loop than before.

Iwaizumi hates that he’s starting to feel the same way. “I just…I’m trying to understand the hiring decision…” he offers after asking Hibarida about you and why you’re so…apathetic.

The coach measures Iwaizumi with a look but he doesn’t offer an explanation; he just pats Iwaizumi on the shoulder and walks away. Without a satisfying explanation, or any explanation at all, Iwaizumi wonders if you’re going to make it as their manager.

   Suna’s off his game.

He knows it and he’s doing everything he can but it’s not working. No matter how much extra time he puts in on the court or in the weight room he just can’t get out of this slump and he’s internally panicking that he’s going to get benched.

When practice gets out he feels lost. Everyone’s got a place to be and he lingers in the locker room, dragging his feet to go home wondering if he should stay and keep trying.

“Suna?”

He’s surprised that you of all people call him out of the locker room. “Yeah?”

You search his expression for a long moment and deeply inhale, like you’re hyping yourself up to face a big obstacle. “Come on.”

“Huh?” His expression scrunches up. “Where?”

“Conbini.” You’re almost frowning.

“Ookaay…” Suna awkwardly tags along curious and confused as to what’s happening. You don’t try to make any small talk along the way and when you lead him to the candy section you just stop and point to the “chuupets?”

You nod inscrutably. “They’re your favorite, right?”

His narrow eyes flick to you, taken aback. “Yeah…so?”

“So,” you sternly reply, “pick some out. My treat.”

“But…why?” His eyes narrow even more at you. “We’re not even allowed to have treats. Iwaizumi’s gonna flip.”

You cross your arms. “If he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me.” When Suna doesn’t make any move your arms fall back to your sides. “Okay, look…I know we’re not…friends…but I do care. You’ve been having a hard time recently and need a…well…I don’t know,” you admit self-consciously and shift your weight. “I just thought…” You sigh in defeat. “Let’s just forget this…Sorry.”

You step past him to leave-

“Green Apple.”

You freeze.

He tentatively picks up a package, avoiding your gaze.

“When I was little my favorite flavor was green apple…” the plastic crinkles in his hand. “I don’t like it anymore…Hate it, actually…But sometimes I eat it anyway…just to see if I can feel all those good things about being a kid again.”

“What’s your favorite now?” you ask quietly, looking at the assortments with him.

“Pineapple.”

“Then we’ll get both,” you offer without hesitation and take the biggest variety pack, the only one with both flavors and bring it to the counter.

Suna’s still by the candy section when you’re done paying.

“You coming?” you call. Though he gives you a mystified look, he nods and follows.

       Iwaizumi’s on the bus when he sees you and Suna sitting on a bench together. He only has a glimpse as the bus drives by–are those candy wrappers between you?! There’s no doubt candy isn’t allowed on the diet plan but for the first time the two of you are smiling and the next day at practice Suna’s in top form.

He doesn’t bring it up but ever so slightly

something shifts.

    Bokuto’s next.

The owl disappears during practice one day after a hearty round of laughter that wasn’t necessarily directed at him but it was definitely because of him.

“He’s done this since high school,” laments Yaku.

Miya sighs “he’s a sensitive boy.”

From the corner of his eye Iwaizumi sees you slip out of the gym while the others debate sending someone to find him.

“Seriously,” Yaku assures them, “he’ll hide somewhere for a little while and come moping back around.”

“You guys keep practicing. I’ll take a look,” Iwaizumi offers to a round of gratitude. 

He doesn’t have to wander far until he hears your low voice.

“Is that better?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto sounds unnaturally small. Iwaizumi stays out-of-sight, waiting for something else to happen but Bokuto asks “what are you doing?”

“Keeping you company,” you simply reply.

“But…why?”

Iwaizumi imagines–tries to imagine–you shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t like being alone when I’m upset…” You consider something for a long moment. “It’s hard…because usually people want to do something…like they can fix it…When all I really want is to not be alone.”

You’re both quiet for a while before Bokuto softly admits “usually everyone just tells me to cheer up.” You wait quietly as he adds “but it just makes me feel worse…I just want to be sad!” 

“Sometimes people can’t handle seeing someone act in a way that doesn’t fit the person they think they are.”

“Huh?”

Iwaizumi smirks at Bokuto’s confusion but there’s no trace of humor in your response, only patience as you rephrase it. “Everyone sees you as the ball-of-energy Bokuto. And they’re too fragile to understand you get sad, too. You have every right to your feelings Bokuto for however long you need to feel them.”

Iwaizumi’s heart aches when he hears the emotion in Bokuto’s voice. “Thank you.”

    After that it’s Kageyama who’s having trouble with his nails and nail file. Iwaizumi catches a glimpse of you giving him something after practice and the next day Kageyama’s meticulously caring for his nails with a glass-crystal file.

Then Sakusa who states displeasure about the lack of hand sanitation throughout the facility and finds new stations set up a few days later.

Ushijima who stares at his phone for a long time until you sit with him and help write a reply to something.

Finally Kiryu who goes out for a run after practice. Iwaizumi doesn’t think anything of it until you dash out; he follows and gets to the lobby in time to see you speeding off on a bike after Kiryu. On his way home he catches sight of you, the two of you, sitting on the same bench you shared with Suna as you listen intently, patiently to the over-thinker who’s clearly venting. 

It becomes clear that you care for them, just in your own way.

Sure you don’t stay late or arrive early every time one of them does but there are too many monsters to keep up with and if you tried, you’d never leave. So you’re not here extra but when you’re here, you’re here. You’re not the out-going or bubbly manager many of them are used to but you go above-and-beyond for them.

It’s clear you want to be here as much as they do.

So when they have their first press conference of the Olympics and someone from the crowd insults the vertically challenged members of your team?

You have to be contained.

With walls of muscle like Ushijima, Ojiro, and Hyakuzawa, it’s laughably easy for the team to hold you back. It doesn’t stop you from spitting venomous challenges for the coward to show themselves so you can properly insult them back, though,

“Seriously? You think that was bad?” Hoshiumi comments. “Do you even see what people say on twitter?” 

“No, I don’t have one,” you reply. “What do they say?”

In his shock he misses your question. “You don’t have one? What do you have, then? Instagram?”

“No.”

“Tik Tok? Facebook? Discord? Tumblr?” He gags “myspace?”

You laugh “no! I don’t use any social media.” A moment of realization comes over you and you ask “wait…what do to they say about you guys on those sites?”

If there was any doubt left in how you felt about the team, it’s gone after your reaction.

“I was wrong about ya,” Miya admits as the team moves into the dorms for the Olympics and he sees the special attention given to everyone’s needs, put into the specific accommodations for each athlete. “Fer a grumpy little scrub…yer a good manager.”

Iwaizumi sees the small and private but glowing smile as the setter walks away.

In the way you defend them from negativity, intervene when reporters are being unprofessional or fans too intense, and support them from start to finish more than anyone else, you’re their champion.

Their heart and soul.

stubbles 'n wrinkles – gojo blurb!

old!gojo 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

satoru's wife hates it when he shaves.

when he spends time in front of their dirty bathroom mirror with shaving cream all over his face, making absurd faces that accentuate the wrinkles on his cheeks just to get into the nooks and crannies of his sun-kissed skin.

when he washes his face off to reveal the little freckles and moles that have shown themselves throughout the gift of time. also revealing the wrinkles that have come through countless missions and curses fought.

when he puts walks out of the bathroom, turning off the light behind him, and joins his wife on the bed. his wife touches his cheek with a small frown after feeling the patches of stubble have disappeared.

"you shaved again?" she would ask, her voice phasing between a soft speak and a whisper.

"i did." and he kisses her palm with his glossed lips. no matter the time or the age, his lips were still a pretty pink that shined through even dim lighting.

"oh. i miss the stubble." she kisses his cheek, lips ghosting upon the newly shaven skin right where his cheekbone met his jawline. it wasn't exactly smooth; bumps and wrinkles revealed themselves, but it lacked the prickly bits that she loved to graze her hands on.

so, he doesn't shave for a while after. it doesn't take long until the thorn-like patches of stubble grow back, and his wife is happy about it. and when she smiles, her eyes wrinkle in a way that makes him feel butterflies in his tummy.

"y'like it, honey?" he smiles, adding a small wink like how they did when they were first dating. and yet these actions still made her giggle like it used to.

"i do. its nice."

she proves her point by grabbing his face, with both hands, and gives him a kiss. his stubble scratches against her palms and face. and she giggles like its a feather tickling her.

"you look so handsome with it." she whispers, looking at him so up-close like she's inspecting each little freckle on his face.

"maybe ill grow a full on beard. that reaches the floor."

"please don't."

10.15.24 - masterlist

reader who can’t stand satoru but then he gets hit by a curse that turns him into a cat. you find him, to his dismay, and take him home, only for him to realize how different you are when he isn’t around to pester you.

at first, he causes a lot of trouble. breaking things in your house, tearing up the pillows. he just wants to be a human again, but nobody can understand him! but you still take care of him and coddle him no matter how much trouble he causes, so different from how people treat him normally, as if he were a nuisance (which he kind of was on purpose). and he finds himself falling for you without realizing it.

so he stops being a bad cat, steadily losing hope that he’ll ever be human again. and satoru would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy how you stroked him while you read a book or let him sleep beside you at night. maybe it wasn’t so bad? so he decided then if he was going to be just a cat, he was fine with being your cat.

the higher-ups had taken note of his absence, obviously, and he only knows cause you’ve mentioned it to him. you had this endearingweird quirk where you’d talk to him as if he were a real person.

throughout his stay in your home as a house pet, satoru finds out a lot about you. you’ve always kept to yourself, but you vent your frustrations out to him while he’s like this, and he offers his comfort the best he can. which you appreciate, rewarding him with kisses that he secretly enjoys.

once he turns human again, by some miracle, his first thought is to go and find you. and when he does, you give him the cold shoulder like you used to, and it surprises him. before he realizes that, ah, he wasn’t your pet anymore. he was gojo satoru.

satoru realizes his feelings for you in that moment. when he feels the ache in his chest from your dismissive behavior, it leads him to starting his most important mission yet—winning your heart once more.

but this time, it’ll be as a person, not a damn cat.

thinking of getting stuck in a small place for whatever reason with satoru and at first he’s cocky and he makes jokes and his white hair tickles your face as he overconfidently tells you you’ll get out in no time.

except time passes and you both begin to realise that you’re probably not getting out in a while.

and gone is satoru’s obnoxious behavior, replaced with what resembles a scared boy.

maybe it’s the first time he breaks character in front of you even, and you hardly know what to do as the strongest begins to hyperventilate in front of you, his bright blue eyes turning glassy and absent as he gasps for air, pushing and kicking at the walls, almost squishing you in the process.

he hardly hears you call his name. it’s not till you grab his cheeks and push your foreheads together that you seem to reach him, though by the look in his eyes, his mind is somewhere far away, thinking about a million things per second.

you stroke his cheeks with your thumbs.

“wrap your arms around me,”

he obliges, tangling your limbs together as you’re pulled flush against him and you straddle his lap. there’s no space between you anymore, but at least he’s pressed up against you and not the cold walls of your current trap.

“breathe with me,” you say, grabbing his hand and placing it on your chest. he feels your heart beat, and his eyes flicker down to where his hand presses against your warm skin, before he meets your gaze again.

he’s uncharacteristically quiet during the whole thing. doesn’t make light of the situation. perhaps he’s too scared to speak, afraid that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop. he wants to tell you every thought he’s ever had, tell you about all his desires. but he wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t burden you with the knowledge that he wants you like no other but that you can never be together.

so he selfishly holds you tighter and finds a little part of him hoping that it’ll be a while before you both get out of this trap.

it’s so nice to just hold you for a bit.

Bakugo is perfect for cuddling. Why? Cause he’s big and he’s warm.

I don’t mean just big cause he’s tall, I mean muscle, he’s a pro-hero after all, he’s gotta stay fit. So it wasn’t unusual for you to see his biceps practically ripping every atom of his compression shirt when he’d go out to the gym.

Despite coming back all sweaty the first thing he likes to do is lay on you and now convince you his germs have passed onto you so he has an excuse to shower with you. From there you guys find your way to your shared bed and cuddle. His muscles caging you in, his large calloused hands wrapped around your figure, and he couldn’t be happier. He keeps you warm too, thanks to his quirk his body is always warm/hot. (Thanks to this he also usually walks around shirtless.)

So it’s not uncommon for him to place his hands under your shirt, resting them gently along your sides as he uses just the right amount of heat to warm up his hands a bit. Usually he does it when you have cramps, he’ll have you lay your back to his chest and keep his hands on your lower abdomen while you rest. Such a good boyfriend.

“Cmere”

There’s no point in him saying that when he’s already got you thrown over his shoulder, taking you off the couch as if you weren’t peacefully reading.

“Kats-“ you can’t help but giggle, seeing he’s in one of his lovesick moods.

He gently places you on the bed before climbing on top of you, his head resting on your chest gently as you find your hand in his.

You smile seeing him find relaxation in your touch.

“I love you katsuki.”

His hand warms up a bit and you can see his ears turn a little pink.

—

“I love you too.”

On your daughter's first day of kindergarten, Katsuki told her to keep her distance from the boys, or she'd contract their infectious disease, and she listened because papa is never wrong. You get a complaint from her teacher on the very same day, saying she wouldn't let any of the boys come near her. You go to scold Katsuki for it, but he's already holding her in his arms, spinning her and kissing her cheek, congratulating her for not contracting the infectious and stinky little boy disease.

“do you think we’re soulmates?”

“i don’t believe in that shit.” katsuki’s hand tangles in your messy hair sprawled against the pillow he fought you over and ultimately gave to you with a small roll of his eyes.

you huff against his chest, frowning at his words. “you don’t think we were meant to be?”

“hell no.” he grins almost a little mockingly

“why not..?” you mutter, thankful your face is out of his sight because your disappointed expression is really quite laughable.

it’s silent for a long moment, and in the dark room, you assume he fell asleep. you sigh, cautiously readjusting your position to be more comfortable as you shut your eyes, ready to sleep.

that is until his hand drops from your hair onto your arm, rubbing small circles. “i don’t think i’m meant to be with anyone.” he whispers, staring up at his ceiling, still covered in glow in the dark stars from when he was a kid. “i think i just got lucky.”

you keep your eyes closed, half asleep as you respond immediately, “well, i don’t believe in luck. everything happens for a reason, suki.”

“that’s your prerogative, i guess.” he hums, his motions slowing down against your arm, resting there lazily.

“mm,” you wrap your arms around his torso, your cheek smushing against his chest.

another long moment passes, and katsuki’s still staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“you asleep?” he murmurs, careful not to wake you if you are.

“no, baby.”

he nods to himself, leaning down to plant a kiss on your head. “okay. i love you. thank you.” he whispers before resting back on his bed and shutting his eyes.

“thank you for what?” you reply, smiling softly at his affection.

he shrugs lightly before sleep takes over him, his arms engulfed around you without another word.

ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ & ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ

featuring: needy!gojosatoru, childhoodfriend!gojosatoru. precious. fluff!, minute jealousy synopsis: you put makeup on your childhood best friend. you learn that he is more than you anticipated. masterlist

you think you know everything about gojo satoru. you'd seen him as a child, two years younger than you, get scolded by his parents for sending a senile sorcerer to hospital. you were there when he first activated limitless and pummelled you accidentally in the face.

safe to say, nothing surprises you anymore. not even when he teleports into your room on the night of your date without even a knock and grabs you by the shoulders to turn you and your chair around.

"oi, stop that."

you strangle him off you. he only grins.

"sure thing." he shrugs, before bending down to inspect you more closely. "what have you got on your face?"

you put the bottle of setting spray down. "makeup."

he ruffles his tousled white hair, windblown. "ah? makeup. are you meeting someone?" he grins halfheartedly, scanning your room for any changes since you last met.

"i am."

"it's about time. i've already dated loads of people," he boasts, his eyes lingering on the powder and blush on the table.

you roll your eyes. "of course you have." you lay on the finishing touches to your face. you notice him watching.

rule one about gojo satoru, when he stares, he's interested. as you grew older, it became harder under those pitch black shades of his to detect where he's staring, but when he really wants something, it's obvious.

you lift a brush. "you want me to do makeup on you?"

he shakes his head.

rule two about satoru gojo, he never says what he's thinking.

you stand up, gesturing at the bed. "sit down." without a word, the boy listens to your command, ready to try something new.

you can't say you're unhappy to try doing makeup on him. you had some spare time left and that beautiful canvas of a face is nothing but to die for. putting makeup on him would be fun.

"i'll have to take off your glasses. may i?"

he sniffs.

rule three about gojo, he pretends to hate it when people ask to take his glasses off, but he secretly likes it. you know. it makes him feel seen, more human.

"do it yourself."

you nod.

taking his sunglasses off, you revel in the familiar ocean which faces you.

another two facts about satoru is that he can't keep still and he can't stop yapping. shaking his leg in tandem with the news from his mouth, the movement makes you shoot him a frustrated glare, distracted.

half to shut him up, the other half to make him pay attention, you grip his jaw in place. your eyes lock. soon enough, he'll probably look away to inspect some other object of interest; he's known you for years, after all. nothing new.

as you work, you think to yourself.

gojo... he's really grown up, hasn't he? in careful brushstrokes, you drag the eyeliner gently to form a wing with the tip of the pen. your eyes narrowed in concentration, you haven't noticed the shallow breath which tumbles from his mouth.

"pretty."

you blink.

gojo satoru scoots closer to you, so that his gorgeous azure eyes are inches from yours. they are widened in awe.

in all these years, you can count on one hand the number of times this genius has focused on anything longer than five-ten seconds. sure, going to jujutsu high has stretched that time out slightly, but it's nothing compared to this.

you know what rule one says about his behaviour, but you couldn't believe it.

he reaches up to brush the hair from your face. unblinking, unwavering, as though memorising everything, the outline of your nose to the singular dashes which form an eyelash, he stares at you.

it is the first step from a boy to a man.

"you are... really, really, pretty."

"says you," you say, almost pushing his hands away.

he sinks his fingers against yours, clasping them in a bone-tight grip.

"you are," he asserts. "how come i've never noticed?" he mutters, furious.

um. you turn to look the other way. the heat of his stare is scalding. nevertheless, the strongest refuses to back down.

"i should've noticed, shouldn't i? and now you're all dressed up with your make-up to meet some other guy." he pouts.

truth be told, you are silenced. this is not the gojo you recognise. in a swift move, he carries you from the vanity to the bed. the display of strength startles you.

"don't go," he whines into your shoulder, shifting you with his strong arms to nuzzle himself into your chest. you did so often when you were younger but-

"stay." he pauses, letting each syllable cascade from his beautiful lips like a bell, ringing crystal clear. "stay with me."

stay with him.

you think you know everything about gojo satoru. you remember the way he begged for a break amidst his pre-adolescent training sessions. you remember the empty hallways of the gojo estate and his silent footsteps, how they left him behind to carry the world on his shoulders.

awaiting your answer, gojo feels his heart beating out of his chest. what if you leave? what if you choose your date over him? what if-

"why?"

he stares up at you again. truly shameless.

"because i want you to." he turns stern. "or else, i'll tell your friend that you didn't actually have work that day you decided to ditch her little meet-up and i'll-"

out of nowhere, a laugh breaks out of you. he frowns.

but then, you press a soft kiss on his cheek, another one on the slope of his nose, which -truth be told- didn't need the contour you'd gracefully put on it, and the strongest sorcerer in the world relaxes to your touch.

moments like these, satoru still manages to surprise you.

"i'll stay."

"promise?" he holds up a pinkie.

"come on, satoru, we're not children anymore."

his eyebrows scrunch together so you finally relent.

"ok."

you link your pinkie to his.

"promise."

getting comfortable, you shoot a text at your friend to move the date to another day.

"i knew you'd stay. you can't stand when i throw a tantrum," he suddenly begins to mumble against your skin. your eyes widen. "i know you... better than anyone..." his eyelids are dragging under the weight of sleepiness.

perhaps you didn't know everything about satoru after all.

gojo opens his eyes, seeing you fully. "i know you can't stand me being alone."

perhaps he knew more about you than you had thought possible.

on second thoughts, you grab your phone from your bedside table, typing up a message you send without a second thought.

sorry. something came up. i might not be able to meet with you next week either. thank you for your patience, but i think i've found someone who i want to stick by forever.