# t. fushiguro â eighth world wonder.
word count: 0.8 k
tooth rotting fluff; thoughts about having a kid (toji); reader is referred to as sweet girl and itâs implied sheâs mamagumi <3; this is so fucking sappy.
he thought he let it go
he was sure he had left it, everything, behind.
his pride, his feelings, they had been left to die in that wretched childhood house of his.
so why?
why was his heart racing in his chest as he laid beside her, unable to sleep?
â
lay beside me
letâs share the gloominess
hand in hand in the darkness
i feel like iâm holding my life in my fist
her face was smushed in his chest, limbs tangled in an endless knot, skin to skin. disheveled hair framed those angelic features of hers he had grown accustomed to staring at, long eyelashes gently laid on her cheeks in her apparently dreamless slumber.
her chest rose and fell steadily, soft breaths hitting his pecs, penetrating his skin and flesh, going straight to warm his battered heart.
these devils around my bed
are waiting for me to fall asleep
the room was swallowed by darkness, thoughts swirling around his tired mind. toji was never the one to ponder much about his feelings; he acted, he didnât waste time thinking.
during some particularly silent nights though, he allowed his brain to wander, he allowed his heart to be ripped out of his chest by his own consciousness.
the reality of my nightmares scares me
a knife rips my chest apart
itâs an open heart surgery
he had promised himself to never let the muscle between his ribcage feel again, the mere thought too painful to handle. yet, here he was, cradling her body like it was made of the most precious and fragile porcelain, expertly crafted to look flawless. just for him.
with the door and windows closed
the light canât get through
but if your caress me i can reopen my eyes
tears dry
every wound stitches itself back together
he had honestly forgotten what comfort felt like for a long time, his body and mind getting accostumed to constant stress, anxiety and loneliness, all self inflicted. but then.. she stepped into his life.
with her soft giggles, lighthearted jokes and sunny smile, and she messed everything up. every wall heâd worked so hard to put up crumbling helplessly under the weight of her gentle voice.
i promise you, iâll learn
to not hate everything i have
both in good and bad
wether itâs rain or snow
for your name, iâll kill.
his merciless hands had ended many lives, cold and heartless in the process, but it never came from something personal, at least thatâs what he liked telling himself. he was the one who left it all behind, the small satisfaction that came with eliminating a gifted one was just a small figment of his imagination.
so why did his entire body shake in pure fury only imagining someone bringing harm to the little slice of heaven he held in his strong arms?
lay down beside me
letâs share the sun
me and you, hand in hand in the desert
but when you smile, suddenly it pours.
i know who you are
youâre splendid, like your name
such a sweet girl she was, and thatâs what he always called her. his sweet girl. if toji had to be frank, it was only fitting.
saccharine voice pulling him out from far more nightmares than he liked to admit, dainty hands pulling him back to slumber, running through his unruly locks.
she was so sweet, the sweetest.
suddenly, he felt her stir in his arms, his eyes quickly darting to the digital clock on her nightstand. 3:45 am. fuck, did he wake her? were his thoughts that fucking loud?
âmhmm.. âji, why arenât you sleeping?â she said, nuzzling her face into his chest, voice still heavy with sleep.
us, a monster and a little girl
hand in hand, navigating the world
towards a new life, iâm ready
this is the ascent from rock bottom
âdonât worry your pretty lilâ head âbout that, sweet girl, go back to sleepâ he replied, voice gruff and husky, while caressing her back in an attempt to lull her back to sleep.
âwhy donât you join me, mh?â she readjusted her body, face now in the crook of his neck, trailing chaste kisses all the way up to his jawline.
âdonât wanna you beinâ all grumpy in the morning" she chuckled in a whisper.
my god, what are you?
the eighth world wonder
the godsâ daughter
you who made the impossible happen
gave me my will to live back.
god she was just so fucking perfect.
his hands trailed from her back down to her waist, pulling her into him more. he needed her impossibly close, bodies melting together, never wanting to let go.
that night toji realized heâd marry her, even give her a kid. maybe he could be selfish for once, and make another little blessing for them to share.
and if the world is too small for us
weâll redefine space and time,
us.
âyeah.. sorry for wakinâ ya doll, letâs go back to sleep, âaight?â he squeezed her hips gently.
i love you.
â
this was inspired by one of my favourite songs!
listen to it here !!
| @ASHSD3AD âS WORD, DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE |
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# being gojo satoruâs therapist.
word count: 2.5k-ish
some angst (suicide is mentioned very briefly), no use of y/n, cursing, female!reader, idiots unknowingly pining for each other, emotionally constipated gojo
it was so fucking stupid, he didnât need any of this. heâs the strongest sorcerer of the modern era for godâs sake.
why on earth was he being forced to see a goddamn therapist?
upon yagaâs request- well, demand actually, he was required to see a shrink because, as the principal worded it, he needed âa lot of fucking helpâ.
of course, he refused at first.
thee satoru gojo in a shrinkâs office? what was that, some twisted fucking joke?
sadly for him though, yaga decided to put his foot down and he wasnât taking no for an answer. he threatened the snowy haired man to take away his teaching job if he didnât get the help he apparently desperately needed.
so it began, satoru gojoâs journey with his therapist.
over the course of a couple of months, satoru had grown accustomed to his routine with his therapist.
he met up with her in her cozy little office, she tried to make the conversation about his feelings and heâd redirect it to something else entirely, mainly complaining about higher ups in his field.
that always earned him a look, but she never forced him to share his inner monologues with her.
she couldnât do that even if she wanted to anyways, he wouldnât let her.
all of this led to an unlikely.. friendship?
well, satoru wouldnât exactly call it a friendship, but it was.. something.
that day, was no different than their usual meetings.
a tall and lean figure made its way into her office and sat on the comfortable armchair in front of her about 30 minutes prior, but all she got from him up until that point were silences and changes of subject.
âand how did that make you feel?â god here she went again with that stupid fucking question.
satoru sighed, stretching his legs and arms a little.
sometimes she forgot how massive he actually was.
the woman briefly averted her eyes, looking everywhere but at his stupidly stunning figure, afraid yet another crack would appear in her professional persona.
sheâd tell herself it wasnât her fault, it was only natural after all! he was just very nice to look at.
she could be pretty dense, for a therapist.
âyou worry too much,â he said casually, albeit a little irritated, after some back and forth. for some reason he couldnât quite understand, his mood wasnât the best that day, but he still tried to keep his usual laid back attitude, hiding the annoyance behind a pout. for her sake.
âiâve told you countless times, iâm here just because i was basically forced, nothing is actually wrong with me.. if yaga didnât constantly check in with you, i wouldnât even attend our âsessionsâ in the first placeâ.
well.. if he had to be completely honest, satoru had told only half the truth.
he attended their meetings also because his therapist was a very pretty sight to look at, and surprisingly interesting to talk to (when she wasnât trying to pry into his feelings, that is.)
satoru was more than aware she was only trying to do her job, he really was. he just.. didnât care, so he decided he was going to make it her problem. maybe heâd manage to get her to her wits end and sheâd finally give up on him.
âplease donât give up on meâ
gojo leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees. a playful smile took over his previously pouty lips as he said something along the lines of âwhy donât we talk about YOUR feelings instead?â.
maybe he could joke his way out of this? he hoped he could.
his therapist sighs, scrunching her nose and pinching the bridge of it slightly. cute.
âwe donât talk about my feelings because i am your therapist, not the other way around, gojoâ she countered, trying to keep the conversation as workplace appropriate as possible, suppressing the urge to headbutt the stubbron (and gorgeous) man in front of her.
the woman was very proud of her skills as a therapist, so much so that the lack of progress with this peculiar snowy haired man left her particularly dissatisfied, so she started putting slightly more effort than usual in trying to crack his façade, hoping he wouldnât notice.
âand, for your information, i do worry about you for a reasonâ she continued, voice firm, stern even.
âshe really worries about me?â
âjudging by the very limited amount of insight on yourself youâve provided me, you really do need someone to talk to about your feelingsâ his pretty therapist added, looking at him straight in the eyes.
she looked like she wanted to obliterate his sunglasses with her mind.
âdonât look at me like thatâ
feelings feelings feelings, he was so tired of hearing her going on about them.
after that statement his mood quickly worsened even more, his face fading in a cold, borderline cynical, front.
âwell, thats a firstâ she thought to herself, a little taken aback.
satoru had been curious about what exactly she saw in him from day one. was it concern? pity?
âi donât want her pityâ
whatever it was, it was a waste of time on both ends.
"i see" he hummed thoughtfully as he tapped his fingers against his knee, pondering on his next words. "can I ask you something?"
âsure, go aheadâ she answered calmly, a bit of unsureness and skepticism detectable in her voice given the sudden shift in his character.
satoru seemed to stare right through her for a few moments. his gaze was cold and unmoving, his eyes felt like they were piercing hers in a way that no other client's ever has.
âhave you ever consideredâŠâ he begins slowly, voice low âthat you might not be as good at this job as you think you are?â
his words were sharp, each one chosen with great intent. there was something behind his eyes that both fascinated and terrified her.
âim sorryâ
her eyes widened momentarily at his question.
a flash of annoyance, maybe even anger, thundering in them as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips parting to throw an equally biting remark back at him.
be professional.
she took a deep breath and crossed one leg over the other, speaking calmly once again.
âif you want to criticise my skills youâre free to do so, even though youâre not qualified to do soâ the woman retorted.
âand if you want a different therapist youâre more than free to ask mr. yagaâ her words did have a little edge to them, but she still managed to keep most of her composure.
before the man in front of her could get a word in, she added one more thing.
âbut from my perspective, a therapistâs perspective, you do need oneâ she said as she tapped her heeled foot on the ground.
âi know i need helpâ
âhelp me pleaseâ
satoru pondered for a couple of seconds, then he chuckled humourlessly as he leaned back in his chair.
his face was stoic, similar to a statue, and his eyes lacked their usual shininess, almost looking muddy.
not that sheâd noticed anyways, considering they were hidden behind his glasses.
there was an intensity to his gaze though, one that made even just looking at him feel as if she was under a microscope.
"I think you're taking this too personally." he hums, mocking her ever so slightly.
"iâm not criticising your skills per se, all I'm saying is..." he pauses for a moment, considering how best to say it. "even a blind man could see your âconcernâ for me runs deeper than the usual pity you feel for all your patientsâ
âyou must think iâm really fucking pathetic, huh?â
what the fuck was he going on about?
âmy concern for you, or any other patient for the matter, is not based on pity in the first place, gojoâ she looked at him, her face bewildered.
âyou think i pity you?â she raised both her eyebrows in question, the incredulous expression still on her face.
satoru chuckles. though the sound is soft and quiet, delightful to hear, something about its sweetness makes it bone chilling.
nonetheless, this made her excited.
it was the widest range of emotions heâd ever shown her.
âim breaking through!â
âdo you not?â he asks, shifting in his chair, and leaning back in it once again, folding his arms over his broad chest.
âwhy else would you be trying as hard as you are to âfixâ me?â he asks, a frown stretched across his gorgeous face.
âiâm just a client like any other, but yet here you are! trying your damn hardest to change me.â
ah, so he did noticed her extra effort huh. fuck.
still, who the hell put the idea she pitied him into his stupid head?
âi do not pity you, gojo. iâve seen patients far worse than you areâ she said, almost sounding a little defensive.
âand iâm not trying to âfix youâ, or change you for that matter! that is not my job!â she exclaimed, a smidge too loud, massaging her temple with one of her hands immediately after. probably to chase away the growing headache heâd given her.
âi managed to piss off my own therapist what the fuck is wrong with me and why do i even care?â
before he was completely swallowed by his self deprecating thoughts, her voice brought him back once again, like a saving grace.
âmy job is helping patients navigate through their emotions, using methods that are tailored perfectly for themâ she explained.
âi communicate with my patients to help them find a way to process their feelings that works for them. i do not pity them, i just help themâ she paused â..or, well, try to. if they let meâ the woman concluded, face serious.
his face twists in distaste as he listened to her speak. bullshit.
âthatâs the thing though,â he responds slowly âi donât need help with thatâ
the man pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, finally meeting her eyes properly.
âheâs so prettyâ
âyou think I need your little âtoolsâ? or to talk about my feelings??â he said, annoyance lacing his voice.
âi have always known how to process my emotions. I donât need you to teach me how. iâm. fine.â
she barely held back the urge to scoff.
gojo had never realised how bad his coping mechanism were, and she was just trying to get him to develop healthier ones, bit by bit.
âcommunicating would be a great fucking startâ
evidently though, it wasnât working, so she decided it was time to switch up her approach and be a little brazen, maybe that would work.
âyou? processing emotions? thatâs a good one.â she snickered
he scrunched his nose up, questioningly âand what could you possibly mean by that, huh?â he felt himself get more and more agitated as the seconds ticked by.
he felt like he was being stripped naked, exposed, against his will. all the things heâd worked so hard to bury, the careless persona heâd built..
âstop looking at me, stop finding out things about me i donât want you to know.â
âyou bottle everything up, pretend itâs fine and let it eat at you from the inside, little by littleâ she looked at him menacingly, her eyes narrowed into slits.
âthat big goofy grin, or the confident smirk you put on, doesnât work in here, gojoâ
she clicked her tongue in disapproval. âin this office, iâm reading you, not the other way aroundâ she continued ad she pointed an accusatory finger at him.
âi know youâre used to getting you way, because youâre smart, even though it doesnât look like it, but as long as your ass is sat in that chair, you wonât find a way to give me answers you think will please meâ
âif your goal is to get me to tell yaga to get off your back, then weâre going to be here for loooong. iâm striving for the truth and iâm going to get itâ
to hell with being professional.
the man remained silent for a few moments, his expression almost..hurt? ââŠI think I hate you.â
he smiled in defeat, leaning forward once again, and though his voice was even and calm, it came out a bit strained.
âno, I know I do.â he didnât though, and that confused him to no end.
the woman gently laid her hands in her lap, trying to ignore the sting his words left in her chest as her voice went back to its usually stoic connotation, completely discarding the venom it previously dripped in.
âi get that a lot from patients like yourselfâ she started, calmly.
âusually, they drop therapy after a few session because they canât handle the truth being thrown in their face and then, after a while..â
a pause, like she was choosing her next words carefully âthey end up dropping dead on the floor when the fire crew cuts the rope they hung themselves fromâ she finished, her expression darkening ever so slightly.
âyou think you donât need help, you think youâre fine just ignoring your emotions, but one day they will catch up to you and itâll be too late to save youâ her voice lowered, almost shamefully, as she tore her eyes away from his.
ânobody will be there to save you from drowning.â
satoru looked shocked for a moment, then he felt a sudden and unprovoked rage take over his body.
how dare she?
he wasnât like that. he was strong. the strongest, actually.
he wordlessly jumped up from of his seat and went to stride straight out of the room, with the intention of never stepping foot there again, but then he stopped, his back still to her.
for some weird reason he couldnât quite comprehend, gojo felt the need to still try and prove he was fine, despite the fact the issues heâd tried so hard to hide had been uncovered and brought up to the scorching sunlight.
âiâm not stupid. i am perfectly aware shit might eventually catch up to me, but iâm the strongest fucking being that ever walked this earth, iâll deal with itâ
what was meant to be a powerful statement, came out sounding whiny and hoarse, almost like he was trying to delude himself into believing his own words.
âat least he admitted he has issues, progress is progressâ
his therapist opened her mouth to talk, but he didnât give her a chance.
he felt like he was being consumed by a sudden and foreign rage.
âBESIDES WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?!â he suddenly screamed, rapidly turning to face her again, his glasses being hauled across the room in the process.
âwhy are you that concerned over some stranger like me?â he adds, his expression hard, âdo you genuinely, truly, believe Iâm worth helping?!â
âweâre going to have to work on these self deprecating thoughtsâ
âim the strongest, i donât need to be cared for.â
âyes, i doâ she stood up from her chair in a (failed) attempt to not crane her neck upwards to look at him.
âi do believe you are worth helpingâ she assured him in a gentle voice âyou can walk out now, if you wish, but never forget this is a safe space where youâre free to talk, satoruâ she said, her words surprisingly comforting.
âyouâre not a god, youâre human just like the rest of usâ
being called human never felt so good.. and it was also the first time she had ever called him by his first name.
and just like that, the usual gojo satoru was back, cracking jokes.
âdo you normally call your clients by their first name, or am i special?â he asked, the question dripping with sarcasm and a tiny bit of flirt, as a small smile appeared on his lips.
the angry pretty boy has been calmed down, success.
âyou definitely have a savior complexâ he added quietly, chuckling a bit âitâs cuteâ.
a smile made its way on her face too as she shook her head a little, her cheeks a little warm at the compliment âwhatever lets you sleep at nightâ
the woman sat back down, once again crossing one leg over the other.
ânow, will you sit down and give therapy an actual chance, satoru?â she looked up at him, expectantly and hopefully.
âyeah.. yeah, iâll do that.â
gojo satoru may have been the strongest sorcerer in modern history, but he was still human like everyone else.
â
| @ASHSD3AD âS WORK, DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE. |
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