"My Love, Mine All Mine"

Starry Night

Sypnosis - Sitting together on a starry night...what could possibly be wrong with that picture perfect scenario?

Pairing - Satosugu x ! Female ! Reader

Warning(s) - mature themes

Word Count - 0.7k

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"'Toru? What are you still doing up?"  

The sitting man jolts, his eyes flickering to you, their bright hue dimming as you cautiously enter the living room, draped in one of his shirts. His legs spread, palms patting once, twice against his thigh in a silent invitation for you – one that you accept without hesitation.  

Your head tucks into the crook of Satoru's neck, nose inhaling his scent and committing it to memory – a pleasant mixture of sandalwood and the Earth. To you, it was comfort, it was a reminder of the home that you had built with him and Suguru.  

"The stars are nice tonight, aren't they?" Satoru comments, his arms looping around your waist, holding you against him and tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hair. You hum against him, eyes flickering to the window.  

Painted against the inky black sky are the stars that you and Satoru often watched together, laid out on a blanket on the front lawn and pointing up at them as if you had never seen them before. It was always cold during those nights, which usually resulted in Satoru tugging you against his chest, your body molding against his like a perfect little puzzle piece.  

You two would lay there for hours, simply basking in the other's presence and staring up at the flickering yellow lights that adorned the sky. Both of your trances were only broken by Suguru's softened voice, scolding you both for being out so late and commenting how you would both likely be sick by morning.  

Only then would Satoru roll up the blanket, helping you stand with gentle hands and allowing you to make your way back to the front door first. Softened aquamarine eyes watch as you beeline for Suguru's opened arms, hugging the raven-haired man and smiling brightly as gentle kisses are laid out over your face.  

"Yeah, they're nice," you mutter offhandedly, biting back the yawn that claws up your throat. Your nose scrunches up, an action that Satoru once teased you for – though he stopped once he received a loving smack from Suguru, one paired with a gentle scolding.  

Satoru hums, his eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that radiates from your body. Your breathing had deepened significantly, a telltale sign that you had fallen asleep against him – likely lulled by the gentle thump of his heart and the even rise and fall of his chest.  

He tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss against the crown of your head and looping his arms underneath you, lifting you against his chest and standing from the armchair. He couldn't have his darling wife sleep in such an uncomfortable position – you deserved much better than that.  

Satoru walks silently to your bedroom, closing the door with his foot and gently laying you down in the sheets, tugging them around you and smiling gently as you adjust yourself. A content sight falls from your nose, cheek smushed against your pillow as you doze.  

He climbs in beside you, tucking you against his chest and tangling his legs with your own. He blinks once, twice...then allows his tired eyes to finally close, welcoming sleep as it beckons to him with softened hands – hands that felt oddly similar to your own. 

And somewhere across the way, resting on numbed legs and rubbing together cold hands, another pair of eyes watches the stars as they glitter in the night sky. He thinks back to a time where he would have enjoyed the stars – maybe even admired their bright yellow hue.  

But that time is not now, and it is a time that he knows he can never go back to – not after what was said and what was done. Besides, he knew it was for the better. His departure from a domestic life was challenging...he had lost count of the tears that he had shed.  

Tonight was one of those nights where he longed for the warmth of a bed, he longed for those two familiar bodies pressed against his own. He longed for the mornings where he would only half-listen to Frank Sinatra and watch as breakfast was prepared for him. He longed for the two people who had shown him endless care and support...but those two people were nothing but a pained memory.  

Tilting his head up at the stars and at the crescent moon, shaky lips turn upward in a smile – one accompanied by salty tears that drip down his cheeks. His mind flashes images of those he longed for; one with snowy-white hair and the other with the kindest smile.  

"The stars are nice tonight, aren't they?" Suguru mutters to himself, hoping that somehow – someway – maybe you and Satoru would hear him. 

erm hi!! is it okay if i use your idea of photographer!ino for a modern!au fic i plan on making??

hi!! yes that’s completely fine, just do tag me in it, i’d love to see it!!

TOJI who comes home late from work to a silent house. All of the lights in the house are off, the only source of illumination being the flickering screen of the television, and even that is stuck on a multicolored SOURCE UNKNOWN screen.  

“Baby? Y’in here?” he calls out to the empty living room, eyebrows furrowing in a mixture of confusion and concern as he toes off his shoes.  

He continues through the silent apartment, dutifully checking each room before finally standing in the doorframe of the master bedroom. Against his better judgement, Toji’s lips turn upward at the sight that lies in front of him.  

Toji approaches the bed, sitting at its edge and being careful to not accidentally crush your legs underneath the weight of his body.  

You look so peaceful wrapped up in the sheets of your shared bed, lips parted in gentle breaths with that tiny line of drool trickling down from the corner of your mouth.  

He reaches a finger out, stroking the back of it against your cheek and grinning to himself as you subconsciously move closer to the warmth radiating from his skin.  

“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmurs, lowering himself to lay across from you. He opens his arms, scooping you into them and tucking your head into the crook of his neck.  

You hum sleepily against his skin, eyes fluttering open as your arms wind around his midsection, followed then by your legs tangling with his own.  

“Hi baby,” you murmur, bleary eyes blinking up at him as he cranes his neck to gaze down at you.  

“Hey,” he mutters, laying a kiss against your forehead and grinning to himself as you snuggle closer to him. “Sleepy?” 

“Mhm. Tried t’wait up.” 

His chest warms at your words, arms momentarily squeezing you. He’d never admit it to anyone — he’d rather die than say it aloud … but you made him so incredibly soft.  

Only you. Only you. 

Just thinking about Astarion as a personification of the trope "unamused until my S/O walks into the room."

Just imagine it.

Karlach had practically insisted that the group rest at a nearby tavern following a successful battle against a particularly nasty band of goblins. Nobody dared protest with her, not when you smiled and nodded happily along with her idea.

That led you and the rest of your companions to a small, rundown tavern on the outskirts of the town you had visited.

To be fair, Astarion had never been a fan of spending time in crowded places -- that much had been evident from the very start. You had always noticed that on the nights where you and the others gathered around the camp's fire Astarion would retire for the night.

You never pushed him, and for that he was grateful. And after all, he would have you to himself soon enough. You always sought him out after spending time with the others, ready to sleep curled up against his side and whisper to him underneath the moon's glow.

But this time was different, now he was surrounded by lowly creatures that he couldn't be paid to interact with. They danced happily and drank with one another, their happiness only adding to Astarion's very visible frustration.

He stands off to the side, his arms crossed firmly over his chest while his hardened scarlet eyes roam over the tavern's patrons. Shadowheart, Gale, and Lae'zel seem to be enjoying themselves, drinking happily and engaging in pleasent conversation. Karlach is most definitely enjoying herself, indulging in the tavern's ale and laughing heartily.

Astarion's ears perk at the sweet sound of your laughter, his eyes flickering to you. You were talking with the tavern's bartender, lips curled upward at something she had said to you.

The sight is almost instant; Astarion's eyes soften, the crease in between his brows vanishes, and the scowl on his lips is replaced by a gentle smile. He leans a bit more comfortably against the tavern's wall, attention focused on you.

He may despise going on, but to see you smiling and happy? Maybe going out wasn't so bad after all.

NANAMI PLEASE OH MY GOD

like wow nanami with a s/o that falls asleep after using like 200% of her cursed energy after a rough mission!

Sypnosis - Being a sorcerer wasn't easy, but your husband would be there no matter how worn out you may be.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, NANAMI BEING DOMESTIC ASF, uhh I don't know does fluff really need warnings...?

A/N - Don't worry everyone, Nanami is 100% safe and enjoying his retirement in Malaysia with his little wife, it's okay.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Darling? Is that you?” 

You can’t find it in yourself to answer your husband’s gentle call, eyes struggling to remain open as you stagger into your shared apartment, hands bracing themselves against any solid surface in the hopes that you would be able to scoot yourself towards either the couch, or better yet, your bed.  

Your latest mission had been one of the toughest yet. Taking on a Special Grade curse entirely on your own wasn’t a simple feat, even for a sorcerer as skilled as yourself. The overexertion of your Cursed Energy left you utterly exhausted and craving sleep — it was the hardest you had pushed yourself in a long time.  

You try to blink the exhaustion from your eyes as you finally make it into the living room, eyeing the empty couch with a borderline hungry glint to your irises. Your palms are cupped over shallow wounds on your body, fingertips lightly touching the various scrapes and bruises that you had received from the Special Grade Cursed Spirit. In honesty, you were lucky to leave in the condition you were in — many other sorcerers would have had gashes and fatal lacerations.  

Staggering towards the couch, you all but collapse onto it, burying your face into the pillows and turning your back to the rest of the room. Your eyes easily fall shut, body slumping into a comfortable position. Within seconds, you’re snoring on the couch, dead to the rest of the world. 

“Darling?” 

Quietly, Nanami enters the living room, having been worried at your lack of a response. He’s just about to call out for you again when he notices you asleep on the couch, your back turned to him with your shoulders rising and falling in deep, relaxed breaths.  

His lips turn upward in a gentle, loving smile — and in three steps he crosses the room and gently kneels down at the edge of the couch. He reaches a hand out, finger stroking your spine and prompting you to turn to face him, awoken by the soft touch.  

“Hi,” you whisper sleepily, blinking slowly at Nanami. He smiles at you, waiting for you to turn completely before he speaks to you. 

“Hello. How was your mission?” 

“Tiring.” 

He hums in thought. He can see the telltale signs of your exhaustion painted onto your face — your sunken eyes, the eyebags just underneath your usually bright irises, the soft paleness to your skin. Nanami’s hand shifts, his finger stroking lightly against your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch, biting back a yawn.  

“Missed you though.” 

Nanami’s heart warms, his smile widening ever so subtly.  

“I missed you too darling. But you should rest,” he scolds you gently, removing his finger from your face and already shifting to stand up. Your hand flies out, fingers catching the sleeve of his shirt and momentarily stopping him.  

“Stay?” you offer, lifting the blanket that you had haphazardly thrown over yourself. Nanami chuckles, shaking his head at you before taking a step forward, carefully slotting himself against you on the couch. He lifts your body, settling you on top of his chest and tucking your head underneath his chin.  

You sigh in content, already feeling your eyes growing heavy again. Nanami’s fingers against your spine only relax you more, his fingertips dragging up and down over your skin. “I love you.” 

You smile sleepily, squeezing at your husband affectionately. “I love you more.” 

Oops .. sorry!

In which you accidentally ignore the JJK men during a nap!

Includes - Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuuji, Megumi, Choso

Geto, Gojo, and Choso with an s/o going out for a girls night with her friends but her dress is VERRRRY short. :))

A/N : STOP BECAUSE I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND TWIRLING MY HAIR THE ENTIRE TIME THAT I WAS WRITING THIS.

Includes - Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo

Warning(s) - suggestive content, foul language, Gojo is a WHORE (what else is new honestly)

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Fuck me!” 

Suguru’s ears perk at the sound of your frustrated voice, head tilting curiously as he glances up from his phone. He stands from his position on the couch, slowly entering your shared bedroom and watching as you pull down the back of your dress.  

Judging by your irritated tone and stiffened body language, it wasn’t the first or the second time that you had tugged your dress down.  

“Everything okay in here baby?” Suguru inquires from the door, forcing his eyes to meet your own as opposed to wandering down. The last thing that he wanted was to be on the receiving end of your wrath — the last time that had happened, he had been placed on a week long sex ban.  

To say he barely survived that would be the understatement of the century.  

“Just this stupid dress,” you bite out angrily, slapping your hands against your thighs in defeat. You had accidentally ordered the dress a size too small, but it hadn’t looked that short when you laid it out over your bed.  

But now that you were wearing it, it continued to ride up with every single one of your movements, nearly exposing your entire backside.  

The fact that you hadn’t ripped the dress to shreds with your bare hands was a miracle in it of itself.  

Suguru finally allows his eyes to rake up and down your figure, admiring the way that the dress hugs your curves while still remaining elegant. The straps are loose over your shoulders, intentionally of course and the dress’ corset only makes you look that much better.  

But you don’t see it that way, instead, you see the dress as an inconvenience that is only making you more and more late for your girls’ night with Shoko and Utahime.  

In the reflection of the mirror, you can see Suguru watching you hungrily, a look that goes directly to your core. You can feel your face warming underneath his gaze, and you know that silently, he’s trying to make you even more late than you already were.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whine, turning to look at Suguru. He crosses his arms, still leaning against the doorframe and smirking at you. He doesn’t fail to notice the way your thighs rub against one another, no doubt trying to provide yourself with the tiniest bit of friction.  

“Oh? And why’s that?” he teases you, raising an eyebrow. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes, knowing the action would only dig you into a deeper hole.  

“You’re going to make me late,” you point out, turning back to the full-body mirror. You grab the bottoms of your dress again, tugging downward sharply and hoping that it would stay. But of course, the moment that you straighten your back, the dress rides up.  

This time however, Suguru doesn’t bite his tongue.  

“I’m not going to make you late, but that dress sure will,” Suguru steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His arms wrap loosely around your waist, tugging your back against his chest whilst his chin hooks over your shoulder.  

You let out a sigh, body relaxing against Suguru’s while one of his hands begins to slowly drift lower, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “Suguru-“ 

“Hmm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, biting back the desperate whimper that claws at the base of your throat. He smiles at the look on your face, keeping his fingers right against the inside of your thigh.  

“I’m definitely going to be late now,” you sigh, leaning your head back so that it hits against Suguru’s shoulder. He grins in victory, then hooking his arms beneath you and swiftly lifting you from the ground.  

“That you are,” he agrees, all the while you giggle at your boyfriend’s antics.  

“Babe, Shoko texted you again. Do you want me to answer for you—?” Satoru cuts himself off as he enters your bedroom, standing slack-jawed in the doorframe as you continue to get ready, having not heard your boyfriend enter.  

You smooth your hands over your dress, turning your body in a circle to admire yourself in your room’s full-body mirror. An approving smile curls the corner of your lips upward. You had put so much time and effort into your hair, makeup, and outfit — to have it pay off was one of the most rewarding feelings.  

“Satoru? Everything okay?” you ask suddenly, having finally noticed your snowy-haired boyfriend standing in the doorframe of your bedroom. His jaw is still practically on the floor, arms hanging limply at his sides as he simply stares at you — it’s almost unsettling, really.  

He swallows the lump in his throat, suddenly aware of how tight his pants feel. And as badly as he wants to pounce on you, he knew that you would protest under the reason that Shoko would have your head if you were late to another girl’s night.  

“Yeah! Yeah, everything’s good,” he nods quickly, clearing his throat and doing his best to play off the way that he had been ogling at you.  

Curiously, you raise an eyebrow at him, but you say nothing in response. You turn back to the mirror, lifting your hands to your hair and smoothing it out, making sure that no strand was out of place.  

Satoru swallows again, glancing down at your phone in his hand before tossing it on the bed, then following it and laying on his stomach on the bed. Though laying on his stomach was uncomfortable, he wouldn’t dare admit that simply looking at you had gotten him hard.  

“Are you sure that everything is okay Satoru?” you inquire from your place in the front of the mirror, not failing to notice how he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you — not that that was an uncommon occurrence anyway.  

Shaking his head and forcing his gaze up to meet your own, Satoru nods quickly — almost too quickly to even be considered human.  

You hum, already feeling a smirk curl the corner of your lips upward as you turn to face him, being sure to sway your hips as you walk over to your bed.  

You reach your hands down, cupping the sides of Satoru’s face and guiding his gaze to meet yours, an action that he follows without an ounce of hesitation.  

“You really are a terrible liar,” you murmur, taking note of your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes and the small purse of his lips. You lean down, slotting your lips against his own and smiling against him at the moan that he releases into your mouth.  

He leans further into you, pushing himself up onto his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you against him.  

You pull back from him to catch your breath, not failing to notice the small whine that your action pulls from the back of Satoru’s throat.  

“I can’t be late again,” you point out, finding yourself smiling as Satoru’s lust-blown eyes flicker about your expression, deflating when he realizes that you’re being serious.  

“Please? It won’t be that late,” Satoru whispers, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and placing sloppy kisses against the skin there. He smirks against you at the shiver that runs up your spine. 

You sigh, disconnecting Satoru from your neck and placing your hands against his cheeks again. He tilts his head at you, feigning innocence as you playfully glare down your nose at him.  

“Fine,” you relent, craning your neck and pressing your lips to Satoru, allowing him to tug you onto your bed.  

You ended up being two hours late to girl’s night — much to the displeasure of Shoko. 

“Choso, honey, could you come in here for a second?” you call sweetly from your bedroom, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. You find yourself smiling at the sound of hurried footsteps growing louder, and in a matter of seconds, Choso is standing in the doorframe of your bedroom.  

He pauses at the sight in front of him. You’re standing in front of the mirror propped up against one of the bedroom walls, hair done up with a face of makeup on. You’re wearing a dress that Choso hadn’t seen before; a skintight black dress that rides up just a touch too high for his liking — but he would never tell you not to wear it.  

You turn to Choso, smiling and placing your hands on your hips — completely oblivious to the effect that you were currently having on him.  

“What do you think?” you ask him, leaning your weight to the side. Your dress follows your movement, the right side riding up to expose the skin of your thigh. Choso’s eyes flicker to the newly exposed skin, but they just as quickly return to your eyes, not wanting you to think he was ogling you.  

He swallows past the lump in his throat, while also doing his best to ignore the growing strain in his pants. He would just have to restrain himself, you had to leave in twenty minutes after all. The last thing that he wanted was to be the cause of your lateness — though he didn’t know how long he would be able to hold out once you were gone. 

“You look gorgeous,” Choso responds quickly, realizing that he had accidentally found himself caught in his own thoughts. You smile at his praise, crossing the room and lifting your arms to wrap them over his neck, nails lightly tracing the nape of his neck.  

He shivers against your fingers, biting back a moan that climbs up his throat. You smile mischievously, flashing him one of those looks — the one where he knows that you wouldn’t exactly mind being late for girl’s night.  

Choso quickly leans down, roughly pressing his lips to yours as he tugs your chest flush against his own, hands gripping at your waist while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. You receive a cracked moan into your mouth following your action — one that has you smirking against Choso’s lips.  

He steps towards your bed, lightly dragging you with him until the backs of your legs hit against the bed’s edge. Only then does he help you, hooking his hands underneath the plump of your ass and lifting you up, never once breaking the kiss.  

You pull back to inhale greedily, biting your lips together as Choso’s hands wander over the fabric of your dress, fingertips just barely grazing your skin in a way that has you shivering.  

“Mine,” he growls against you, bending his head down to press featherlight kisses against your neck, sucking at your pulse point and feeling himself smirk at your back arching in response. Your body pushes itself further into Choso’s arms — a feeling that he would never get used to but wholeheartedly appreciated.  

He pulls his lips back from your neck — that earns him a disappointed moan. Choso’s eyes flicker to meet yours, pants straining at the half-lidded look that you give him, pupils lust-blown and chest rising and falling in panted breaths.  

With you sitting on the bed and Choso standing in front of you, it grants him easy access to what he wants most. He leans forward to peck your lips again, once again feeling his pants strain at the way your mouth chases his when he pulls back from you.  

He lowers himself to his knees in front of you, sending you one last glance before his fingers push up your dress. You let out a small sigh, glancing down at Choso. 

At this point, you didn’t even mind the fact that you were forty-five minutes late. 

NANAMI never considered himself to be a domestic man. His focuses lied elsewhere -- mainly in his work as a Jujutsu Sorcerer and completing the duties that were constantly being forced into his hands.

For a long time, Nanami didn't care about the late nights he spent cooped up at Jujutsu Tech. He didn't care about the pile of paperwork that only seemed to grow in size every time he looked at it. He didn't care about the bags underneath his eyes or the slouch to his shoulders.

But then ... you came along.

And suddenly Nanami wasn't at Jujutsu Tech until two in the morning. He wasn't skipping lunch breaks in favor of working to decrease his workload. He wasn't pouring his focus into paperwork that, quite frankly, could wait until the morning.

Now he was clocking out at exactly 6pm every night, glancing down at his phone and smiling at the little messages that you had sent him throughout the day.

Good morning Ken! Thank you for the coffee, I hope you were able to take some for yourself. Have a good day, and I'll see you later! <3

Hey Ken! I'm on a little break with the first years right now, I swear Gojo never knows how to properly control them. Yuuji says hi!

Hi Ken! I don't mean to keep bothering you so much throughout the day, I get that you must be doing your own thing. I was just texting to make sure you've eaten, it's getting a little late.

Nanami's lips curl upward as he scrolls through every message, reading each word and feeling his chest warm with love for you. He stows his phone away into his pocket, going down the familiar streets to where you wait patiently for him.

Maybe Nanami hadn't previously been a domestic man. But for you?

Yeah ... Nanami was definitely a domestic man.

Read part two here!

His head was so quiet. 

Your head was so loud. 

That voice didn’t belong to you, nor did it belong to the pink-haired boy who stares at you with widened, scared eyes. His hands shake as they reach out for you, but there’s something that stops him from closing the distance.  

You blink, eyes heavy as something inside of your chest twists — almost painfully so. You lift a hand to the front of your shirt, bunching up the fabric and glancing up at Yuuji. He still looks downright horrified, but you can’t seem to figure out why. 

And suddenly … everything in your head was silent.  

In front of you stretched an endless void, the light diminishing completely before you could even process that it was there. You open your mouth to speak, or to yell for help, but nothing but a pathetic garble falls from your parted lips. 

“Hmm, didn’t think I would enjoy a brat’s body quite as much as I do this one.”  

It’s your voice, but at the same time, it isn’t. 

Yuuji’s heart drops to his stomach, widened eyes burning with tears. Now he knew why you sounded so different.  

Those dark black marks. 

Those rings around your wrists. 

That sadistic glint to your usually softened eyes.  

No. 

Yuuji stares silently, his heart now in his throat as he stares at you … or rather … your body.  

Your eyes flicker up to meet his own, and he can see the last traces of you being promptly snuffed out like a candle left out for too long.  

“Let her go.” 

A deep chuckle that feels so unlike you tumbles from your parted lips. Your head tilts back, eyes glaring down your nose at Yuuji.  

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.  

Shit. 

Do you guys wanna see this continued? I half-assed this in class LMAO.  

This is self-indulgent comfort because hey, guess who just read chapter 236?

Also, consider this my official apology for this post.

This wasn't real.  

"C'mon Satoru, get up," you all but beg, fingers folding uncomfortably into one another as you stare forward. You already know that everyone else is staring at you, watching you, gauging their own reactions based off of what you display.  

He wasn't losing, was he? 

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, continuing to watch as he pushed himself further and further towards a limit that you didn't know if he could bounce back from. The pit in your stomach only grew with each blow that he sustained, it grew with each drop of blood he lost and it grew with each Domain Expansion that he managed to pull off. 

No. He was the strongest, he'd be fine. 

At your side is Yuuji, his hand holding onto yours so tightly that you can feel your bones begin to crack. Even with the slightly uncomfortable sensation, you say nothing – Yuuji needed to feel the comfort of something familiar, and that just so happened to be you.  

And then … silence. 

Satoru Gojo … on the floor … eyes staring blankly up at the sky … blood everywhere.  

"…'toru?" 

You begin to tremble, the shake beginning in your fingers before slowly traveling up your body like a snake, coiling and twisting over your bones and biting into you – its fangs leaving behind a poisonous panic. 

"Satoru--!" 

"Hmm? Wha – what happened?"  

Your eyes shoot open, beads of sweat dripping down your forehead and making your hair cling uncomfortably to your skin. Your body propels itself upward, feet kicking off the blankets that cover you – it was warm, too warm.  

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on?"  

Your head swivels to the side, nearly giving yourself whiplash. There, at your side, is that familiar tuft of snowy-white hair and bright aquamarine eyes that soften at the panicked expression you wear. Satoru. 

You open your mouth to say something, but instead of a coherent sentence, all your body is able to produce is a broken sob. And right on cue, Satoru's arms are locked around you, tugging you to his chest and allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. 

Your nails bite into his back as you sob into him, body trembling with the weight of your cries. Though the feeling of you scratching him was a touch painful, there was nothing that would stop him from comforting you – not when you were this distressed.  

"Hey … hey. Shh, 'm right here," Satoru murmurs into your hair, laying gentle kisses against your hairline as his fingers rub comforting circles into the small of your back. "Shh." 

You feel yourself begin to calm as the familiar tingle of Infinity washes over you, draped over your shoulders like a blanket fresh from the dryer. Its warmth reminds you of the safety that Satoru's arms provide, how he would never let anything happen to you. That you were safe. That he was safe.  

That whatever you saw when your eyes were closed was nothing but a story told by your imagination.  

"Don't leave me 'toru … ever," you mumble into Satoru's shirt, voice breaking to release a small sob. His arms tighten around you, cheek pressing into your hair. He can feel his heart tightening in his chest – mind wrapping around just how small you sounded. How desperate. Frail.  

He sighs, craning his neck and laying his palm against your cheek, lifting your head and guiding your tear-filled gaze to meet his softened one. His lips turn upward in a smile, the pad of his thumb swiping against the tears that roll silently down your cheeks.  

"Hey, there she is," he murmurs warmly, tone dripping with affection and a softness that he could only ever reserve for you. Satoru leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. At the contact, your eyes momentarily shut, as if committing the very feeling of him against you to memory.  

"I'm here. Not goin' anywhere just yet." 

His thumb swipes against your bottom lashes, wiping away those last few tears that cling so desperately to your waterline, wanting to fall but not being brave enough to make the final choice. Satoru smiles again – silently wanting you to do the same.  

Even though your heart still aches and your mind still reminds you of what you had seen … you smile too.  

Because deep down, in that little safe kept in your chest, you know that Satoru wouldn't go down so easily. At the end of the day, just like he had promised you … 

... he would always be on the other side of the front door.