kym-m - Tumblr blog

[kym-m]

burgir

[kym-m]

who is she…?

[kym-m]

[kym-m]

on a morning just like any other, miri goes looking for rei in the bathtub to wake him up. but this time, unlike any other morning, she finds that he's not there.

she stares, perplexed, at the basin where her papa normally sleeps, blinking down at the empty space in confusion. she makes her way back upstairs with the same confused expression on her face all the while.

the sound of the bedroom door opening at the end of the hall on the second level takes her by surprise.

"rei papa," she says, almost like she can hardly believe her eyes, "did you sleep in your bed last night?"

the aforementioned papa pauses in the doorway to his bedroom with one foot across the threshold, as though he's frozen mid-step.

"ah," he grunts, struggling to meet the little girl's inquisitive gaze. "hm."

not even his affirmative hum is enough to satiate miri's need for details.

"why?" she asks, her head cocking to the side. she eyes him, and rei is suddenly uncomfortably reminded of the training he's endured to withstand his composure under unimaginable torture and violence. somehow this is worse. "is rei papa sick?"

"no," he murmurs.

"then why is rei papa so red?" she steps towards him tentatively, intent to get to the bottom of her papa's strange behaviour and very pink face.

"miri!" the little girl is suddenly swept up from her feet, wooshing through the air as kazuki scoops her up into his arms while he sing-songs her name. he holds her up in front of his cheerful face. "your breakfast is getting cold, miri-chan!"

miri blinks into the grinning face of her blonde-haired papa. her gaze slides to the side to peek at rei, and the goes back to the man in front of her. she holds up a hand to cover her mouth from view (though it's on the wrong side to actually hide it from the brunette at the end of the hall.) "kazuki papa, rei papa sleeped in his bed," she mutters from the corner of her mouth, her little lips pursing.

kazuki looks at the man at the other end of the hall, completely still and looking at him with uncharacteristically startled eyes, and then back to the little girl in his arms.

"hmm," kazuki hums, "is that so?"

miri leans closer, and kazuki dips down too.

"maybe," she whispers, her tone even quieter and notably more conspiratorial, "he had... an accident."

kazuki relies on every modicum of self restraint and rigorous training he's endured not to outrightly laugh. instead, he hums thoughtfully with a solemn nod.

"we should be nice to him if he did," miri adds, "he might feel embarrassed."

the laughter kazuki feels welling up inside of him is as real of a threat as any gun that's ever been pointed his way.

kazuki sets miri down and she shuffles over to her other papa, who closes his bedroom door behind him just as she stops at his feet. she stares up at him, with a look that might be considered sympathetic if it weren't on the face of a four year old. she pats him comfortingly on the leg.

"it's okay, rei papa," she says pensively, something almost wistful in her tone. "it happens to the best of us."

and on that note, she spins on her heel and skips towards the stairs, heading to the breakfast that kazuki had promised.

"hold onto the railing!" the blonde calls after her as she sets off down the staircase, and she chirps back affirmatively before humming a little song as she goes.

the two men listen to her footsteps retreat, then the sound of her chair at the table downstairs being dragged across the floor, and eventually the sound of cutlery scraping across her plate.

kazuki turns, peeking at rei over his shoulder, a wicked grin on his face.

"did you have an accident? rei-pa-pa?"

"shut up," rei mutters, his shoulders slumping as he finally relaxes.

behind him, his bedroom door creaks open, and you poke your head out from inside.

"that was close," you say breathily, brushing your hair back from your face, and the two men watch as you slip through the door into the hallway. you have one of kazuki's hoodies on your frame, and a pair of cozy slippers on your feet.

rei looks at you, and you avoid his eyes, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to laugh. he pouts.

"you two are mean," he complains.

"rei," you laugh, reaching for him, but he shies away from you woundedly. the act only last for a few seconds before he's allowing you to slip your arms around his waist from behind, leaning against his frame while you embrace him.

"who are you calling mean?" kazuki sniffs, "i just expertly diverted miri's attention because you wouldn't get out of bed in time to get in the tub before she woke up."

rei and kazuki glower at each other for a moment, but there's no real animosity behind either gaze.

"no fighting," you pipe in from behind rei, peeking out from around his shoulder.

"this is your fault too, you know," kazuki points accusatorially in your direction and you gape.

"me?" you ask, offended. you slip out from behind rei's frame and stalk towards kazuki. "if i remember correctly you're the one who was begging me to stay over last night, and you're the reason why my clothes needed to be washed before i could leave." you poke him harshly in the chest, and he winces–though there's virtually no way it did any real harm.

kazuki chuckles, a breathy little heh, looking away guiltily with your fingertip still prodding his chest.

"speaking of," you look around the hallway, "where are my clothes?"

kazuki perks up, shuffling over to the laundry basket he'd dropped at the top of the stairs and fishing out your freshly-laundered clothes from underneath a pile of miri's. he brings them over to you and places them in your outstretched hands.

"thanks," you say, a little smile pulling at your lips. kazuki offers you his cheek expectantly, and you roll your eyes but crane up on your tiptoes anyway. he turns his face at the last minute, just like he always does, stealing a proper kiss.

you giggle as you pull away, kazuki's greedy hands reaching for you to pull you back, and you let him man-handle you into his hold while you sift through the clothing in your hands. you quickly notice something's missing.

"where are my panties?" you ask, tipping your head to peer up at kazuki who's draped over your back. his brow furrows in confusion, looking at the articles in your hands and then back to the laundry basket.

"there weren't any," he says in confusion, certain that he would have noticed something like that in the load of laundry he'd risen to do at dawn.

rei slips past the two of you quietly, heading towards the stairs.

it occurs to you just a second too late.

"rei," you hiss, careful not to make too much noise and draw attention to yourself. "rei!"

he glances at you over his shoulder, pulling his hand out of the pocket of his sweatpants to reveal a familiar ball of lace in his grip. he shoots you a smug little look, and then continues to descend the stairs, muttering something as he goes that sounds suspiciously like 'it happens to the best of us.'

[kym-m]

“you should be at the club” i should be by the sea. i should be in the mountains. i should be awestruck and rendered speechless by the majesty of the natural world. if you even care

[kym-m]

“and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like, ‘i love you.’”

- g. satoru

pairing: gojo satoru + reader

summary: when does one cross the line of a mere friendship?

warnings: angst, mention of intoxication (alcohol), gojo is a FOOL for you, drunk reader, hidden inventory arc didn’t end so horrifically and everyone is safe <3, cameos from suguru, shoko, haibara and nanami, everyone is in their early twenties, some crude humor, comfort & fluff

word count: 11.4k

a/n: inspired by the song “somethin’ stupid” by frank & nancy sinatra. this fandom is allergic to happiness - you guys make me SAD.

1:15am.

“oh my gosh - ‘toru! you answered!”

satoru wants to laugh at your excitement. he really does. but instead of feeling that instinctive sense of amusement you always provide him with, he feels a little bitter. it alarms him.

your voice is loud. a volume he doesn’t recognize too well. you sound drunk. ideally, he would relish you. to see you so careless was a rare sight. satoru had only really seen you intoxicated once, and even then you seemed to be hyper-aware of everything. like your body was inhumanly fighting for it’s willpower. as if the consequences of alcohol didn’t affect you - or, maybe because you feared it to. now, with your words slowly slurred and overly enthusiastic, he can only question himself as to why you were accepting the lack of self-control this time. there was something uneasy about it.

“are you having fun?”

his voice is soft. he sits at the edge of his bed, phone pressed lightly to his face. he finds your initial shock to him answering the phone silly. satoru has never missed a call from you. he had a bad habit of even answering you during missions - you always scolded him for it. but he didn’t care. it was you, how could he ever ignore it?

“i am, i am! shoko says we have to leave soon, but - oh my god, ‘toru, you know what i was thinking about?”

satoru lets himself chuckle at your jumbled thoughts. you’re like child who’s had far too much sugar, bouncing off the walls in excitement. despite his worry, he loves you like this, he thinks. happy.

you were no where near as unrestrained as he was, but you weren’t exactly reserved either. it was never often that you seemed to cross over the line, always cautious, meanwhile satoru always oblivious. he was an open book with captivating allure. but there was a difference in your demeanor, he had noticed. satoru was admittedly not too skilled with advice - at least, not pertaining to serious circumstances - but, you were important to him. seeing you so dull worried him. it was even noticeable to shoko, who had forced you to go out with her when the weekend finally came. drinks on her. judging by your state, you might had gone overboard.

“your eyes, ‘toru! they’re so pretty.”

satoru stiffens immediately.

you teased him a lot. it’d be soft, witty comments that would break his unbearable charm in seconds. but they were never flirtatious. that was satoru’s realm. an arm around your shoulder, him occasionally sprawling himself over you if you were laying down, him falling asleep on you more times then he could count, even going so far as to playfully kiss your cheek. satoru never hid his infatuation with you.

however, the thought of voicing it - with full authenticity, no humor embedded, was more terrifying than anything.

satoru tended to evade reality. he was a jester, even being carefree in moments that were painstakingly grim. to satoru, the world seemed to only spin with banter. ignorance is bliss.

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

another voice, which satoru immediately recognizes as shoko, is heard through the phone. she was scolding you, and it was clear that she was much more sober in comparison. completely, even, satoru would guess.

“shoko!” satoru hears you giggle, and suddenly your voice sounds distant. there’s rustling, before a voice interrupts the brief silence.

“gojo.”

he feels a sense of relief wash through him. something that can take his mind off of your words. you were drunk, he reminded himself.

“what can i do for you?”

a grin appears on his face, finding the obvious tone of annoyance in shoko’s voice amusing. it was safe to assume you had most likely been somewhat problematic during your evening.

“come get her, gojo.”

satoru coughs, eyes widening.

“why? you’re out with her right now. what happened to girl’s night?”

it’s not that satoru doesn’t want to come get you. he would do anything for you. but with the state that you’re in - he’s not sure if he could handle it. you’re not like yourself.

“all she’s talking about is you. it’s driving me crazy.”

he isn’t given a chance to respond as the call promptly ends, leaving him to stare at the blank screen.

his eyes travel to his car keys on his bedside table.

•••••

1:35am.

satoru arrives at the bar in less than fifteen minutes. thankfully, the two of you share your locations with one another on your phones. it was a mutual exchange. for safety reasons, of course. friends being friends.

he’s tempted to call you again, just to find out where exactly you are (and maybe to hear your unusually upbeat voice once more), but he decides against it. he knows you probably won’t be the one to answer this time, given your inebriation. he rather face the humiliation of shoko’s teasing in one go.

the bar is lively, despite it nearing it’s closing time. at least shoko hadn’t dragged you to a club. it was safer this way, and while he trusts shoko with every fiber in his body, he’s aware that having a drunk person around is like having dead weight. shoko can be impatient at times.

scouting out the bar ultimately ends up being futile, with his search ending surprisingly quickly. satoru takes in the sight. you stick out like a sore thumb, smile bright and radiant as ever. shoko looks rather dreary beside you.

“finally.” shoko sighs, approaching him. she’s holding a lit cigarette in her hand, and satoru silently wonders if this bar even allows smoking indoors. “i’m gonna call geto or something. i need an actual drinking buddy… think there’s a bar around here that closes later?”

and while satoru wants to scold her for being out so late, he decides against it. he’s already appreciative enough that she had the willpower to stay sober.

instead, he snickers at the mention of his best friend, tilting his head. “replacing them just like that, huh?”

shoko smiles slyly, sending him a pointed look. “don’t act so nonchalant. i know when you’re nervous.”

satoru’s eyes widen, and he attempts to mask his surprise with a dismissive laugh.

“when - when have i ever been nervous?”

shoko’s face falls, and she simply blinks at him. satoru swallows thickly.

yeah, she was right.

he spares a glance over her shoulder, eyes landing on you. he almost winces. it’s a sight that even has him feeling lightheaded for a second.

your eyes are glossy and narrowed, and every movement you make seems to be in slow-motion. there’s a lazy grin on your lips as you talk to the person beside you, who satoru just knows is a poor stranger.

“jesus, shoko.” satoru breathes, momentarily glancing back at her. “why didn’t you give her a limit?”

shoko purses her lips, taking another hit from her cigarette. her face is difficult to read, though it morphs into something solemn - a twinge of sadness satoru can’t seem to understand. she looks back at you for a second before turning to satoru again.

“she needed it.” she gently replied, quiet enough to be heard by only him. “and-“

satoru’s unimpressed expression appears when he recognizes the familiar card in shoko’s hands.

“thank you, for it.” she cheekily responds, handing him his credit card back.

he hadn’t even realized it went missing.

before he could whine and scold her (and jokingly ask for the money back, despite his fortune), he feels the warm grasp of her hand around his wrist, and suddenly he’s being pulled towards you.

“alright!” shoko claps, grabbing your attention immediately. your head turns, and satoru swears he sees stars in your eyes. and maybe a little bit of confusion. you seem to have trouble processing his sudden appearance before an even wider grin adorns your face, if even possible.

“‘toru!” your arms find him, and satoru has to face away from shoko to hide his pink-dusted complexion.

you weren’t one for affection. he had expected a snarky greeting, per usual. this was different. his face feels like it’s boiling as he registers the feeling of your lips smacking against his cheek.

“how’d… how’d you get here so fast?” you giggle, pulling back from him to see his face, though keeping your arms loosely secured around his neck. “i was just on the phone with you!”

satoru has to remind himself how to breathe.

“uh-“ he glances at shoko. “i was just in the area. funny, right?”

and your body folds over, laughing as if he had just spoken the most hilarious sentence.

“what the heck?!” you gasp, and you playfully hit him in the chest. “so funny.”

shoko is beet-red from holding in her laugh. satoru glares.

“well!” she interrupts, smiling at you. “satoru’s gonna take you home now, alright?”

you gasp again, your hand falling upon your heart. “but girl’s night, shoko!”

shoko nods, faking a sad sigh.

“i know... but i’m not feeling too well, and i think i’m gonna stay here ‘til i feel better.”

she ignores the kick that satoru gives her. thankfully, you don’t seem to notice.

you blink, nodding back at her. “okay… call me when you’re home.”

shoko only hums in response, waving a dismissive hand before grabbing her phone to presumably text suguru.

satoru turns to you. you smile brightly.

you probably can’t walk straight - or go very far without falling. so, he offers an arm.

only to immediately retract it when your lips form into a pout.

“what?” he asks, confused. that familiar wit is crawling back into him, and he’s met with relief like no other. he could feel his heart rate finally slowing down, and a grin breaks out on his face. “you don’t want help, pretty?”

and he feels the world align once again, your dynamic back to normal as he observes your flustered expression. satoru smirks.

back in business.

“well…” you mumble, bringing your fingers to your chin in faux contemplation. you’ve let go of him now, though he’s resorted to firmly grabbing both of your forearms because unfortunately, your body has begun to involuntarily sway. “my place is farther, right?”

satoru tilts his head, from what? his brain is muddled, the forced proximity still affecting him indefinitely.

and though your mind is equally as scrambled from a completely different reason, you have the ability to read his.

“from here.” you clarify, and for a second satoru believes you’re sobering up, just a tad. it might have been the way you suddenly stand straighter, or how your expression relaxes. but that must be the fatigue, he thinks. satoru is a lightweight, he would know.

“we should just go to your place.”

satoru’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and while he wants to act completely shocked, he isn’t given a reason to be. you’ve always slept over, it was like second-nature. his home to be lived, to be simply loved. remnants of you everywhere, as if you shared the space. a routine that oddly encompasses what the two of you were. something never explicit.

“okay, we can go to mine.” he breathes, looking at your dilated eyes. you were staring at him differently. it was more intense. he chooses to ignore it. “grab on to me, though. i don’t want you breaking an ankle trying to get outside.”

you sluggishly wave an arm, rolling your eyes, though your head unconsciously tilts back with the movement. satoru’s eyes narrow.

“pshhh, i’ll fall just to spite you.”

•••••

2:07am.

the car ride was peaceful, surprisingly. at least to satoru, your drunk topics were like music to his ears. spontaneous and effortlessly random, though his creative mind seamlessly let him answer your brooding hypothetical questions.

“what if you crashed right now?”

“your hair would dye really easily, right? let’s do pink.”

“have you and suguru kissed before? i bet you have.”

the journey to get you inside his home was more of a different story.

“okay,” satoru breathes, leaning against the open car door, beckoning you with his hands. “stand up.”

somehow the alcohol in your system was just progressively ruining you, and you only could manage to blink up at him. it felt like the world was spinning, and satoru was just a painter’s mix of white and blue color. blurry, infuriatingly blurry.

“i don’t think-“ and you laugh, head bowing as your body shakes. a part of you is still conscious, in disbelief that you’re as fucked up as you are. “i don’t think i can stand up.”

his mischievous smile hadn’t returned since you were at the bar, and instead satoru had begun to exhibit a softer demeanor. voice patient, touch effortlessly gentle. you didn’t think too much about it, mostly because you mentally couldn’t.

“right.” satoru chuckles, momentarily pressing his hand against his mouth to muffle the sound. this was undeniably strange for him. had he stepped into a parallel universe? the roles are meant to be reversed. he was supposed to make shitty decisions, not you.

however, he doesn’t pester you further, simply approaching you and lifting you from under your arms. you try to support yourself to be of some use, but your hands fall upon nothing, vision whirling until it feels nearly nauseating. you give up.

“i got you.” satoru reassures, and suddenly, you’re pressed against him. an irritating reminder of his strength.

in a bittersweet way, it was kind of nostalgic. memories of past summers where you would be too tired to walk back to your dorm, the feeling of security from being so close to him warming you infinitely. he would tuck you into bed. and maybe you chose to overlook the fact that satoru had always been gentle with you.

you were in your early twenties now, that boyish charm still following him - and you’re sure it would never leave.

“do you feel sick?” he asks, now carrying your sluggish body. he had tried to let you walk on your own, but the attempts made were laughable. he’d rather avoid causing you trouble.

surprisingly, you didn’t. you felt more warm than anything, the buzz making your scalp tingle. you shook your head.

“feel…” your head leans against him, lolling to the side as if it’s suddenly become too heavy. “good.”

satoru hums in acknowledgment, fishing in his pocket with one hand, the other still holding you. he opens the door to his home with ease, heading straight to the bathroom after he’s closed it. you’re staring at him in wonder, and he senses the question before you ask.

“gonna get you ready for bed.” he answers, helping you up as you sit rather hesitantly on the counter. you hold your hands in your lap, closing your eyes. nostalgic, again.

it’s too domestic, and yet so normal.

it was usually you who would have satoru sit, gently removing his eyewear and helping him brush his teeth. he’d complain about anything - whether the water was too hot, the light was too bright, or the silence was too loud. despite the nagging, you loved taking care of him while he was drunk. and satoru craved the affection. sometimes, he got tipsy with hopes you’d be there at the end of the night. you always were.

“is this fun for you?”

satoru looks up from the cotton pad he had been coating with your makeup remover. during the times you’ve slept over, he’s picked up on the little things.

“fun?” he sends you a questioning look, a smile on his face. you diligently nod for longer than needed.

“yeah. when i’m drunk.” you reply, eyes still closed. “i like taking care of you… when you are. it’s been a while.”

satoru’s heart melts at that, though he only visibly snickers.

“well,” his hand reaches up to your face, keeping it in place as he begins to glide the cotton pad across your skin. it’s pleasant. “you haven’t thrown up, so i like it so far.”

you giggle, peeking through narrowed eyes at him. he’s awfully close.

“i don’t feel sick, s’ don’t worry.” you mumble, your body suddenly feeling numb as you try to force yourself to stay as still as possible. the bathroom light makes satoru look better than he should. you would argue it was because you weren’t thinking straight, but he always looked good. it was stupid.

“good.” he whispered, and for a moment you feel the ministrations on your face stop. the sound of your toothpaste opening fills your senses, and you silently watch as satoru coats your toothbrush. you smile lightly.

“i can do that… myself.” you slowly speak, grabbing it from him. you’re grateful that he refrains from teasing you as you almost completely miss the toothbrush with your hindered sight. he also nearly pouts, but doesn’t object. he likes to be babied by you, and he wants to return the favor. some of his best memories are ones he could hardly remember after nights out. unexplainably, it bothered him that you didn’t let him treat you the same. vulnerability is beautiful, satoru had found. he enjoyed it when he was around you. he wonders if he’d be as sane without it.

he watches as you jump off the counter, wobbling a little, which results in him immediately wrapping an arm around you.

“you sure?” he teases, and it takes everything in him to not pull out his phone a record a video for later. this is hilarious to him, truly. he’s surprised shoko hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he currently was.

you sigh dramatically, leaning against him in submission. a bit of your normal self shines through the reluctancy. satoru doesn’t say anything, only sneaking an occasional glance through the mirror you both faced. you brush your teeth like that, bodies pressed against one another. he holds your hair as you rinse your mouth. the stability is comforting.

you make no effort to separate from him after you finish. satoru doesn’t seem to mind. you’re not sure whether or not you imagine his grip getting tighter.

he guides you to his familiar bedroom. surprisingly neat, as he always seemed to leave it. it looked like the set of a movie - maybe too prim and proper. satoru was never really home anymore, business meetings and missions taking up the majority of his time. he was training to be a teacher, after-all - as strange as it was to you. despite it, you always valued how high you were on his list of priorities. he continuously made time for you.

the warmth you had felt is suddenly gone, and you complain as he leaves you sat on the edge of his bed.

“i’m getting you clothes, i’ll be back, sleepyhead.” he teases, and you watch as he disappears into his closet. you wonder if it also looks the same. you vaguely recall his uniforms neatly hung, casual clothes on the other side of the walk-in. on nights out, you used to help him pick his outfits. help me pull tonight, he’d beg. then, he’d go out with you and buy you a new outfit of your own. he loved being a judge in the dressing rooms. but you’re not sure if he was ever really honest; he would just end up buying everything your eyes lingered on. stupid gojo satoru. they’re fond memories, leaving you smiling while looking down at your hands.

satoru’s wealth was never forgettable. he was not humble by any means, but he was generous. with money, he had never been greedy. he’d spend his fortune on you if you let him.

that’s one thing about friendship, right? you give them your all.

“here.” a t-shirt and sweatpants are placed on your lap, and you recognize them as his own. they’re pure cotton, the material smooth as you feel it against your skin. curse men with money. “change, and i’ll let you sleep.”

inertly, you nod. your eyes follow him as he exits the room and closes the door behind himself.

every person has their own version of how they perceive someone else. to the rest of the world, satoru might be oddly optimistic. egotistical, definitely. you’d grown to love the fool, despite the flaws he continuously claims he lacks. denial seems to only be bearable if he’s the one complaining.

your limbs feel heavy as you replace your clothes with his. they engulf you, feeling like a warm hug. you have bundles of his wardrobe back in your own closet, for the nights when he would sleepover. strictly. and perhaps you had prolonged returning them to use them as your own. satoru never made the effort to ask for anything back, though. it frustrates you, the craving of his touch and scent so intense you’re embarrassed by the mere thought of it. he makes it all too easy.

the door slowly creaks open before your vision happily welcomes him back. you raise a brow at him from instinct.

“and what if i was still changing?” you asked teasingly, voice clearly worn out. you let your body collapse on to the outrageously comfortable mattress, sighing as your head hits satoru’s expensive pillows. they smell like him. “you didn’t even knock.”

your eyes trail to him, watching as he leans against the doorframe. his arms are crossed as he stares down at you, playfully rolling his eyes. the blue is ever-so-slightly visible as his glasses sit at the edge of his nose.

“you were taking too long. thought you might have passed out or something…” he replies, letting himself in. you only respond with a mocking laugh, eyes narrowed as they threaten to close.

“you’re a bad liar.”

he ignores you, and a satisfied smirk appears on your face.

you hear the click of satoru’s bedside lamp, and sigh in relief as the main fluorescent lights are turned off. your eyes invite the ambient orange with open arms.

satoru chuckles at you, removing his glasses and leaving them on the bedside table. you watch in curiosity as he crouches down beside you. he only smiles in response.

you try your best to hide your surprise as he lays his head on the edge of the bed, facing you. his legs are crossed as he sits on the floor, comfortable and casual. you blink at him slowly, shamelessly staring. he’s awfully close again.

“hi.” he whispers. that stupid smile, again.

you’re speechless for a moment, trying to overcome the feeling of your stomach flipping, as if you’ve just dropped from a rollercoaster. with the forced proximity, you’re nervous he can practically see your heightened senses. your entire body feels unbearably warm.

“hi.” you whisper back, finding yourself bashfully grinning at the intimacy. it’s involuntary, pure instinct. there’s blazing resentment that sits uncomfortably.

there were so many people in the world. why must cupid have you chase after the most unattainable one?

“tired?” satoru asks, tilting his head. his question lingers in the air for a while. you like the silence, relishing in how soft his voice had sounded. he chuckles when all you do is hum in response. “sleep, then. it’s late.”

slowly, your head shakes. “… i don’t want to.” your voice is muffled by the pillow. “i wanna talk.”

satoru rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, words completely defying your appearance. he’s sure if he stays quiet for over a minute, you’d be out like a light. regardless, he grants you your wish.

“about what?” he asks, and you appreciate that his tone is of genuine interest. you’ve never felt like a burden around him. your eyes close as you feel him caress the top of your head.

no matter what, there would always be a touch of bitterness towards gojo satoru, despite the tenderness he handles you with. and the most frustrating part was that he had never done anything wrong. he’s just himself. and you suppose that’s why it hurts a little more.

you’re left to collect your scrambled thoughts, eyes tiredly looking into his, as if they’ll give you all your answers. and a part of you thinks they might.

it’s the world’s most intimate staring contest. dilated pupils that you can’t register, the longing for something so mutual it’s painful.

to his dismay, you look away.

satoru is reminded of the night, despite the fuzzy feeling in his chest. he’s the first to break the silence.

“what’s wrong, pretty?”

satoru knows this is unfair. he’s taking advantage of the state that you’re in. drunk words are sober thoughts, he once heard. but you’re always so private. never letting anyone in, succumbing to your own thoughts until something like this happens. where you’ve drank an entire night away, and somehow, your mind is still plagued.

you look back at him innocently, and a pang of guilt seeps through his being. he’s tempted to retract his words, to climb and lay down beside you. to lull you to sleep. but he favors his curiosity and pure concern over anything. it blinds him. he’s sorry for this, genuinely.

you’re slow to answer, and while satoru tries tells himself it’s because of the inebriation, he knows it’s because you don’t want to tell him. your mind was everything but pliable.

your eyes leave him again, staring off at the wall over his shoulder. an attempt to escape his attention, but you still have it completely. you’re all he can focus on. your voice is still muffled by the pillow.

“you.”

the confession stings. and suddenly, satoru wishes he hadn’t asked. it’s too serious, too heartbreakingly honest. you deserve to have this conversation in a better state. but he’s evil at times. so he doesn’t stop you.

“you’re all i think about.” you confess, voice exasperated, and satoru feels his stomach drop at the view of complete hopelessness in your eyes. “it’s driving me crazy.”

he recalls the initial phone call of the night.

shoko’s complaints about how often you brought him up, saying you were driving her crazy. was that really the universal way of describing it? the confirmation only came when he got to witness your affection first-hand. the hug, the kiss on the cheek.

his mind is racing, heart beating so fast he’s afraid he will combust. feelings that had been years in the making with pitiful secret glances, all amounted to a confession that he’s not even sure he can convince himself is genuine. yet he licks his lips, breath faltering. he can ruin everything with a snap of his fingers - but this friendship? he can’t. he won’t.

“is that a bad thing?”

the question leaves him quicker than he expects, and he surprises himself with the bluntness. it eats at him, the yearning for your adoration so eager it scares him. the impulsivity of the sentence makes him think, yes, he wants to know what you feel. how you feel about him? do you think the two of you would work out? is it too complicated to even try?

a breathy chuckle leaves you. the sound reminds him of shoko’s solemn expression from back at the bar.

“i don’t know anymore.”

satoru swallows thickly, throat feeling dry. there’s delusion that takes over him, and he lets himself have this moment of bliss. he used to beg the universe for something like this. sitting outside, taking walks during the night on his own, hands in his pockets as he followed nothing in particular. his head would tilt to the sky, eyes shining at the stars. he’d beg everything that someday he’d get over his fear and admit his infatuation. that maybe he’d have a chance. that he wouldn’t ruin the two of you. the bond you had was too precious to him.

gojo satoru sometimes lacks self-control. he can be selfish without meaning to be. he likes talking, loves evading. because again, the world only seemed to spin with banter.

but now, it feels like the spinning has stopped. the earth is stable, frozen in time, being so generous with leaving you both to move freely. as if it’s fate. satoru thinks, just for a moment, that this feels okay to admit. he’ll be honest. even if it makes his world break.

“i’m always thinking about you.”

gojo satoru. triumphant to all, though perfectly okay with losing a battle to you.

he’s not sure how to describe the look you give him. it’s hazy, and he prays he’s right about detecting joy.

there’s a pause that makes him nervous. more nervous than he’s ever felt.

and then you lean forward to kiss him.

a hand raises to gently pass through his hair. the softness of it makes him shiver. he feels you cradle his face so innocently, noticing how the touch is there, but also not. you’re giving him a chance to pull away. always selfless, never forceful. the beauty of your nature. too aware of everything.

how heartless of him to kiss back.

it shouldn’t feel this good. he shouldn’t love how your hand buries itself in his hair, or how he could feel your smile against his mouth. it’s addictive.

he separates from you for a moment, watching as you sit up hastily. you claim his lips once more, as if they should never be apart. and they shouldn’t, he thinks.

the bliss is euphoric.

and yet, there’s a pit of uncomfortable shame that wrecks through his entire being.

when you part, satoru’s throat feels tight. his eyes are watering, and yet he’s unable to look away. it’s horrific.

what did he just do?

“i…” he quietly speaks, though it gets lost in the darkness of his room. a single look at you and all words are gone.

you have a sleepy smile on your face, eyes twinkling. satoru stops himself from talking, because he knows he’ll just find a way to ruin the moment. it’s serene and he knows he doesn’t deserve it. but he wants to enjoy it for as long as he can.

a soft sigh leaves your lips, and you breathlessly laugh. it’s fatigued, but you’re still there. present. satoru feels like he might cry.

“i love you.”

satoru’s eyes shut tightly, and he silently hopes he could conjure the ability to just disappear. to be gone forever, to never have to look back. anything to escape this, because his heart hurts. and it’s the kind of feeling that makes him sick.

he can’t say it back. he refuses.

adolescent love is one like no other. puppy love, is what it’s mostly called. puppy love that never fades, puppy love that never dies. what is that? just plain love? that didn’t feel right. it was bland and boring. a phrase that certainly couldn’t encapsulate what he truly felt. maybe it needed a metaphor. fireworks blazing in the night sky, the unexpected spark you feel as you accidentally shock yourself, the sight of the most heavenly sunset. even then, nothing completely translated.

satoru can see your eyes struggling to stay open, fluttering desperately with exhaustion. you lay back down. his body generously lends him the strength to raise his hand to cup your face. he caresses it gently, doing his best to mask the tremble in his limbs. your hand rests over his own.

this wasn’t a mere friendship.

in fact, there’s something in the back of his mind screaming at him that it never was.

satoru is right, you fall asleep quickly. your body gives into the the necessity, liquor bothering you no further.

claws grasp at him, pulling him back to consciousness. be realistic, they say. because this, this can’t happen.

his head bows down, and his body curls in itself. he feels sluggish as he stands up, slow steps taken as he feels like be may collapse if he moves too quickly. he takes one last look at you before he shuts the bedroom door. the sliver of light that comes from his open blinds leaves the remnants of his shadow, darkness looming over you. like a devil over your shoulder.

you probably wouldn’t remember in the morning.

his voice is a whisper that he’s sure you aren’t able to hear, even if you were somehow awake. it’s hesitant, mostly because the words make him feel bile crawling in his throat. he’s dizzy from it.

“it’ll pass.”

•••

11:47am.

it hurts to move your head. and blink, and think.

“don’t let me drink again.” you whine, arm over your eyes. it’s pitiful, and the boy beside you only snickers.

“complain to shoko.” he muses, eyes closed.

he lays beside you in his bed, enjoying the sunshine peeking through the window. satoru had disturbed your slumber in worries that you had planned to spend the rest of the day rotting with your hangover. it was a pointless concern, as he now knew you were going to do it regardless.

there was nothing different about this. it was normal. no uncomfortable tension. friends being friends, or so it seemed.

“thank you for taking care of me.” you breathed, leaning over to pat his chest lightly.

you don’t mention kissing him.

“it was…” satoru clicks his tongue in thought, humming. “an experience. for sure.”

satoru doesn’t either.

the avoidance aches.

“do you want water?” he asks, peering at you through a half-opened eye. he’s relieved when you nod, desperate to flee your overwhelming presence for a few minutes.

he wonders who would be the first to bring it up - if it would get brought up. did you even remember? he doubts it.

defeat looms through him, and he knows that he can’t just let the night go. now that he’s had a taste of it, of you, he’s not sure he could live without it.

so what does he do?

he begins to ignore you. as stupid as that sounds - yes, gojo satoru begins to ignore you.

•••

2 weeks later.

well, he tries to ignore you.

he doesn’t cut contact; he doubts he’d ever be able to stop talking to you for more than a day, but there is less vigor there. no flirting, no physical attention. it’s as if you’ve become poisonous.

it confuses you, and it makes you helpless. you start to doubt everything.

sure, having satoru rampantly run through your mind was exhausting, but you preferred it more than acting like he didn’t exist. you’re sure that if the thought of him was wiped from all your memories, you’d feel obliviously empty. gojo satoru was meant to be there. he had made his mark.

“you’re a terrible baker.”

you glare at him through the sides of your narrowed eyes, attention reverting back to the microwave in front of you.

“it’s microwaveable popcorn, satoru. i’m not baking anything.”

satoru grins in response, “but you tried.”

the both of you stare off to the end of the kitchen, looking at the trashcan that currently held a failed attempt at cinnamon rolls.

“you didn’t tell me the timer was going off!” you defend, arms thrown into the air. it causes satoru to let out a laugh, and you have to ignore how you see his hand stop itself from patting you on the back.

after all these years, you had always hypothesized (and tried accepting) that the relationship you had with satoru would mostly likely end with a premature death. yours, you had always assumed. jujustu sorcery kind of made that an unavoidable mindset.

never, never in a million years, would you expect it to be turned brittle with a kiss. a kiss that had began to shatter everything. ugly thorns showed through, stabbing at every attempt to make things seem normal again. it was an idiotic kiss caused by an idiotic mind.

did you really think you’d have him? you yourself called him unattainable.

“are you sleeping over?”

you’re not sure why you ask. maybe it’s to hear something, anything; a confirmation that what the two of you have isn’t fucked forever. but you see how he tenses. how his eyes avoid yours. you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from having a complete outburst.

ignore it! you want to beg. act like it never happened, please.

“no, i have to finish up some work.” he answers, finger tracing over the kitchen countertops. his voice is low, and an awkward cough follows his words.

he would have never answered like that before.

despite your visible disappointment, you nod, fighting the urge to slap yourself across the face.

stupid.

“same.” you mumble, and while it’s obviously a lie, satoru doesn’t question it.

it’s just how things go for a while.

you text him every day, see him occasionally, and life simply continues. it continues without him really in it. at least, not as present as he was before.

you spend a majority of your time with shoko and suguru. they never ask you anything, but since that night you notice how they both stop bringing satoru’s name up. you wonder if it was a collective agreement, if they had spoken to each other privately beforehand. was the change in your relationship that obvious? it’s as if satoru doesn’t exist when you’re around them, and oddly enough, it helps.

it isn’t until suguru’s birthday that you really begin to crack.

organized by you, shoko, and satoru (though, mainly you and shoko), you plan a small party for suguru. it was an act of appreciation, you adored the man infinitely. possibly more than satoru did, but you refrained from saying that out loud. satoru was prideful in his love for his best friend.

“where do i put these?”

you raise your head from the cake you had been frosting, eyes falling upon a grinning haibara. nanami was here too, the two of them arriving early to help with decorations. haibara holds party streamers in his hands, assorted with all different sorts of color. you smile back at him.

“around the entrance, i think. i want his eyes to be overwhelmed as soon as he walks through the door.” you beam, eyes mischievous. haibara laughs, nodding in agreement. you watch as he walks away towards the front door.

suguru would be here in twenty minutes, according to his text. you had invited him over for what he assumed was a movie night. you had a lot of those now, fighting off the dread of your lonely nights without satoru. it admittedly felt wrong to have shoko or suguru fill that void, but you weren’t sure what else to do. satoru wouldn’t come over during night anymore. he’d linger in the afternoon, then be gone just as quickly.

“nice hand-writing.”

you freeze in place, the piping bag you were writing with stopping at the end of ‘birthday.’ satoru watches from above your leaned figure, eyes taking in the small drawings of balloons and neat cursive letters.

“the best, right?” you attempt to act nonchalantly, continuing to fill out the bottom of the cake with suguru’s name. “and i told you i was a good baker.”

satoru laughs at that, nodding. “i’ll believe it when i get a piece.”

you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him with a smile, and you finally look up, snorting at the sight of him.

loving him was so easy.

he wears a party hat over his head, the elastic band around his face looking somewhat uncomfortable. you notice he carries another hat in his hand.

“match with me?” he grins, stretching out his arm, hoping you would take it.

you don’t even complain. you’re so derived of him, the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

there’s a certain type of joy that you could only feel whenever you were around satoru. his childishness definitely was a factor, but you wonder if it was also his unintentional kindness. you’re aware of everything, but him? you can’t imagine what his mind must look like. he knows how to fill a room with his presence. he knows how to make you smile. had he studied the world, or did it come naturally?

your thoughts die down when you watch his expression turn into pure glee as you attach the reflective plastic to your head.

it’s the most attention you’ve received in so long, and frankly, it’s pathetic that you feel your heart beat just a little faster from it.

in twenty minutes, you’re all stood around the front door, party whistles in hand.

door is open, let yourself in, you had texted suguru.

the lights are off, everyone hidden under the darkness. even with the lack of light, your eyes had begun to adjust, seeking out the silly decorations you had all put up. posters of cats and dogs with party hats, similar to you and satoru, along with streamers that extended to entirely other rooms, and balloons that took up the majority of the ceiling.

“i’m surprised you kept it a secret.” you mumbled, voice low as you crouch beside the white-haired male. satoru’s jaw momentarily drops, characteristically dramatic.

“mean.” you hear him mumble, and you gasp as you feel him pinch your side. you slap his arm, and he giggles.

it’s familiar, and you try not to dwell on the action for too long.

when the door knob tilts, you cease all noise. the creaking of the door is thrilling, the gap widening by the second.

you all jump out once it’s opened, haibara being quick to turn the lights on.

“surprise!”

suguru’s face makes you want to laugh. he’s surprised, definitely, but there’s also a glint of playful annoyance. he stands at the doorway for a moment, scanning the room to look at everyone he’s seen for years. all together, grins on every face. he momentarily observes the random decor.

“movie night, huh?” he muses, and you giggle in return. his hair is half-tied up, pieces naturally falling by the sides of his face. there’s that gentle smile that he always holds.

“worked out pretty well.” you shrugged, grinning as you approach him.

his arms are outstretched, and hesitantly, you find yourself in them. unlike you.

shoko’s eyes glance over to satoru.

“happy birthday.” you mumble into suguru’s shirt, squeezing him tightly.

and you’re ripped away from him as satoru throws an arm around the two of you.

“happy birthday!” he interrupts, and suguru makes a face as he obnoxiously plants a loud kiss on his cheek. you’re taken aback for a second, surprised at the casualness of his body against yours. as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened.

haibara, nanami, and shoko approach to give the male the same attention, half-hugs all given. and maybe satoru is reading into it a little too much, but suguru isn’t giving them the same amount of affection as he gave you.

his eyes land on the party hat you’re still wearing, a small frown on his face as he messes with the elastic of his.

he kinda feels like a lost puppy for a bit, following you and suguru as you seamlessly chat amongst yourselves. his two favorite people, mixing as they always have - but for some reason, it feels a bit different. it’s pitiful, the way he watches you interact with each other. shoko has to look away, while nanami and haibara are thankfully oblivious.

“you made a cake?” suguru smiles, eyeing the colorful frosting. ‘happy birthday sugi-poo’ is written, a forceful demand on satoru’s part. suguru’s eyebrow raises, knowing only one person would suggest it. “… with satoru?”

satoru gladly attempts to interrupt with an enthusiastic “yes!” but you cut him off with a scoff.

head shaking, you gave him a pointed look. “no, he made me write that.”

suguru nods, though his eyes linger on you and his expression turns into amusement. he can see satoru in his peripheral vision. he doesn’t question you any further.

the night is enjoyable while it lasts.

you end up staying beside shoko the majority of the time, the two of you chatting about whatever comes to mind. you always found it easy to talk to her, like she had a level of understanding that you couldn’t comprehend. you’d argue that it was the future doctor in her, but she’d scold you and tell you she wasn’t nearly done with her studies yet. you liked that look of annoyance on her face though, so you’d probably never stop poking fun at her career choice. a million years in debt if you weren’t a sorcerer, you’d grin. you wouldn’t call her lucky, though.

satoru is glued to suguru’s side, as he always was, though you notice how his expression seems a little less cheerful than usual. they’re talking, but you’ve never been a good lip-reader, so you disregard your concern and avert your attention back to your brunette friend.

as soon as he senses your eyes not on them anymore, suguru breaks.

“something needs to change.”

satoru leans forward, sighing heavily. there’s an exaggerative slump in his shoulders, and he slowly looks up at suguru. the repetitive topic being brought back up again.

“no.”

“yes.”

suguru scoffs, rubbing his eyes with his hand in annoyance, a level that only satoru could tread on and reach as easily.

“you looked like you were gonna kill me.”

satoru laughs, rolling his eyes. “i did not-“

“satoru.”

he looks back up, quirking a brow at the seriousness in suguru’s face.

“she kissed you. do something about it.”

suguru was the only person satoru had gone to, while you had stayed silent since that night. normally, satoru was reclusive with feelings, but suguru was more in-touch with reasonable actions than he was. he needed advice, though he never took it because he disliked the options given. stubborn.

“what if i don’t want to?”

there’s a small beat of silence, before suguru’s head perks up.

he smirks happily, eyes closed, almost like he had expected a response like that. he provides a solution of his own, voice light and airy as if it’s an easy compromise. it definitely isn’t.

“then i’ll kiss her.”

satoru stills, eyes widening.

realistically, satoru knew it was an empty threat. suguru would never do something like that to him - he was too civil and kindhearted. but his words bothered him nonetheless, because even if suguru wasn’t going to, someone else eventually would. he’s playing the waiting game, but for what, exactly?

the friendship didn’t feel the same anymore. beating around the bush was becoming a little pointless because satoru was distancing himself anyway. he wanted to keep you, but how could he when there’s something there that the two of you are both equally as afraid of saying out loud?

it’s conflicting emotions, all too grand for a man that fears showing them. he offers no verbal response, and suguru keeps up his smile, all-knowing and finally satisfied.

suguru leaves him after that, his back turning to walk the other way, his long black hair being the only thing satoru could really focus on. reluctantly, satoru stands straighter, feeling as though something had rid of him of his strength. it takes him more effort than usually needed to simply walk to the kitchen.

he pauses in his steps, and stands at the entrance for a bit. it’s you.

satoru’s brows raise in curiosity as he observes you scrummaging through every possible drawer. there’s a frustrated tone in your feverish movements. you hadn’t noticed him, too concentrated in your search.

“what are you looking for?” he bluntly asks, and stops himself from chuckling at the way your body tenses in surprise. you compose yourself quickly, sighing and turning back to look at him. your arms cross, and you lean against the counter.

“i can’t find my lighter for the birthday candles.”

satoru snorts, raising a brow. “oh no, the entire party is ruined.”

“shut up.” you groan, glaring at him. “it’s important! that’s like the biggest part of birthday parties.”

satoru leans back against the doorway, eyes spotting suguru in the living room chatting amongst other people. he’s lively, extroverted in a way satoru isn’t.

“i’m pretty sure he’d be okay without making wishes this year-“

“can you drive me to the gas station? please?”

you already have your wallet in your hand, and satoru isn’t sure how he feels about the fact that you just know he would say yes immediately.

“it’ll be fast.” you insist, and he’s not sure why you’re adding on to it, because he’s already grabbing his jacket from the other room. his mind is on auto-pilot around you.

you don’t tell anyone you’re leaving, simply expecting the trip to last less than ten minutes. the gas station is a few streets away, and you trust that your only mission is to buy one measly lighter from the convenience store beside it.

birthdays were always a big deal for you, it was something satoru quickly learned from your days back at jujustu high. if it was someone’s birthday, it was safe was assume you’d be outside their door waiting with a cake. birthday candles too.

even now, several years after graduation, you still have the ability to conjure up everyone into a single location for a celebration. you were difficult to refuse. it’s one of your traits that satoru found the most admirable.

it’s painful that the drive is mostly silent, only filled with small talk that friends of two days would engage in. only, you’ve known satoru for much longer. there had been tension gradually building over the past couple of weeks, thick and ugly. satoru knows it’s his fault entirely, but he’s selfish and would rather let you suffer to keep his peace.

you arrive faster than you anticipate, a breath of relief leaving your lips as you unbuckle your seatbelt, hand on the car door.

“two minutes, tops.”

satoru watches as you step out, hands in his lap.

he feels the cold breeze of the night air before the door is closed, and he’s left alone with his thoughts again.

fuck. fuck this.

this was torturous. with every passing day, he had only been pushing you further away. suguru’s words had been passing through his head like a broken record, repeating the same verse until it was beginning to drive him mad. something needs to change.

yes, yes it does.

he needed to take the initiative, as much as he dreaded it. he missed spending countless days together. he wanted them back.

satoru was just being a stubborn idiot, one that knows he’d be unable to really control his feelings. he’d just dig his own grave deeper, he supposes, until spontaneity ate at him and he could finally confess.

he remembers his teenage years, recalling the first actual time that shoko and suguru had cornered him.

it was a rainy day, excruciatingly slow. the three of them were hauled in satoru’s dorm, having nothing better to do than watch bad romcoms. you had been the only person sent out on a mission - only because you had been the only person who volunteered. it was uncommon for your classmates to worry about you in a a situation like this, knowing that yaga would only send you out so randomly when the issue wasn’t that big. two grade three curses, you’d be back soon.

except that wasn’t really the case.

you arrived back hours later than expected. bloody and bruised, clutching your arm to your side. grade one. jujustu high had incorrectly identified the curse. it had been able to split it’s body in three, as well as equally distribute it’s cursed energy. that was why it had fled detection.

impressionable, young, and (more notably) driven with anger, satoru argued for weeks with the higher ups.

gojo satoru was among one of the most respected jujustu sorcerers, even before adulthood. but it was an attempt in vain. jujustu would not fold by his say alone. he hadn’t even completely proved himself worthy of his title yet. the strongest, in jujustu high, definitely. but not strong enough. not yet.

and sure, you had made it out alive, but barely. weeks later, he’d wince at the announcement of your promotion to a grade one sorcerer. you were in the same boat as him and suguru now, all labeled as some of the best of the modern age for only being sixteen. he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

the perception of satoru changed after that. maybe he wasn’t just a heartless comic. of course, suguru and shoko were well-aware of it, but this was something deeper. the entire experience had shifted their white-haired classmate.

while you recovered in the infirmary, suguru and shoko took it as their chance. it was during a training day. shoko had stared for a while, meanwhile suguru was looking in every other direction. they ended up both speaking at the same time.

“you like her, don’t you?”

and satoru had just dumbly blinked.

more than anything, he had wanted to say. but he remembered how much of a coward he had been that day. he denied everything, even going so far as to get uncharacteristically upset. suguru and shoko never directly brought it up after that.

satoru sighs, leaning back against the car seat, raking a hand through his hair.

it had definitely been longer than two minutes. where were you?

uncomfortably, he sat up straighter, grabbing his phone to look at the time.

8:43pm.

ten minutes had gone by.

without thinking too much about it, satoru exits the car, heading straight towards the convenience store a few feet away. maybe you were grabbing something else?

the bells on the top of the door jingle as he enters, his eyes scanning the area. there’s a sense of relief that flushes through his body at the sight of you.

though not visibly damaged, satoru could easily tell from your posture that you were feeling some discomfort. you’re talking to the cashier - or, rather, the cashier was talking to you. there’s a safe distance between the both of you, the counter providing a more comforting separation.

you’re smiling, and it’s stiff. satoru recognizes it to be forceful. there’s hesitance in your polite nods and undoubtedly fake chuckles.

“i’m off in an hour.”

satoru’s eyes widen, and he steps behind an isle to hide his obvious eavesdropping.

“no… ha, i’m actually pretty busy at the moment-“

“give me your number, we can reschedule.”

the cashier’s voice sounds more demanding, remnants of the seductive tone he held dissipating. how long had this been going on for? satoru shakes his head, stepping back out.

he’s not really sure what takes over him. protectiveness, yes, but pleasure? excitement? maybe a little.

“hi, baby.”

it comes out too casual, and satoru raises an arm to wrap around your shoulders. he flashes the most shit-eating grin at the cashier. this feels right.

“you finish checking her out?”

there’s a flush of satisfying red that darkens the man’s face, and satoru chuckles.

“no, no, checking her out.” he points at the lighter on the counter with a raised brow. “we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

satoru could feel your gaze, head tilted upwards as you watch the entire interaction in silence. he could sense how tense you were, though you made no effort to separate yourself from him. whether it’s from the situation itself, or satoru falling into old habits, you nearly flinch when you feel him press a small kiss on your cheek.

“three dollars, please.”

beating you to it, satoru hands him his card. the man is avoiding all eye contact, head tilted down to stare at the counter.

you often forget how shamelessly smug gojo satoru can be. he never really exhibits that attitude around you, always sweet and respectful. you’ve only really gotten a peek at this different demeanor once or twice - back when you used to accompany him on missions. he can be ruthless. frighteningly ruthless.

after satoru pays (with an obnoxiously toned ‘thank you!’), there’s a hand on your back that leads you out the door. you’re compliant, mind wracking with undeniable confusion, submissive in a way that you’re sure you’d be embarrassed of under any other situation.

you’re nervous, you realize. because this is flirtatious, intimate, and it’s been so long since he’s had you this close.

“what a creep, huh?”

you’re back in the car, fingers fidgeting with one another as you force your eyes to stare out the window. there are so many words begging to be spoken on the tip of your tongue.

is it really possible for someone to spring back like that? as if it’s natural? no mind to the grief of a rotting friendship, or whatever the two of you had. you appreciate satoru’s concern for you like no other - but when it’s dominant like that? composure lost, behavior cocky. a glimpse of it is all you need, because how can he act like that after everything? it seemed so natural for him to be so possessive.

“you okay?” satoru’s eyes glance to you for a split second, fingers moving to turn on the engine. he pulls out of the parking lot, and in seconds you’re back on the main road. you’re digging your nails into your palms.

satoru worryingly looks over at you again, unsettled by your lack of response. he acts before he thinks, a hand reaching over in an attempt to gently grab yours.

“i’m really sorry i didn’t notice sooner. i would’ve-“

“are you upset that i kissed you?”

his hand retracts itself immediately. satoru wants to slam the breaks and scold you; complain to you for saying something so sudden as he’s driving. instead, his entire body tenses, and his grip on the steering wheel becomes incredibly tighter. you remembered, is all he’s thinking.

you mean for the question to come out more hostile than it does. instead, it’s weak. defeated, even.

“… what?”

“i’m just confused.”

it’s ugly word vomit, thoughts you don’t want to say out loud, but you’re frustrated. because how can he be so carefree, knowing that everything is dwindling? how much longer can you passively stay alive, ignoring that stinging wound in your heart that cuts itself deeper by the minute?

and why does he looked so shocked?

“you’re so… complicated, satoru.” you whisper, head leaning back as you close your eyes. you’ve had enough. if confrontation was something he was avoiding - then, fine. you’d hurt yourself first.

so many years of pining after him, just to have your heart broken in a few mere moments. darkness bites you, everywhere all at one. clouds appear, rain trickling down as if it's just routine. a hallway of endless disaster. maybe you had done some horrible things in your past - but was getting put through this turmoil really necessary? your heart hurt.

“i’m sorry i did it.” it’s cruel that you can physically feel your body giving out on you. your limbs lay heavy, lip trembling. “i really, really, am sorry.”

you look to the side to avoid everything about him. you weren’t going to be able to do this if you saw his face - that much you knew. in more comedic (and equally as depressing) lighting, you wanted to jump out of the car. anything sounded better than being beside him at the moment, really.

but you also wanted to see his eyes roll with affection. a teasing smile, a soft mention of your name. but nothing comes, and it leaves you to fill the unpleasant silence.

“you confuse me-“ you pause, wiping a stream of unwarranted tears that fall from your eyes. humility seeps through your soul. “you confuse me because you kissed back. and that gave me hope for a little.”

and it really had.

you had awoken that next morning with the biggest grin, an army of butterflies swarming through your stomach. you had laid in his bed for hours, up until you knew he was awake. you were anxious - thrilled to hear him ask you about it. satoru had always been confrontational, which is why when he had said absolutely nothing when he first saw you, it crushed all those butterflies in an instant.

you cried once you were finally home.

gojo satoru does not do anything to ease your pain. not then, not now. his eyes are stagnant, only focused on the road. for a moment, you genuinely wonder if he had even heard you. or, more realistically, if he was choosing not to.

bitterly, you press your palms to your eyes, sighing softly.

this would be it, then. you would have to walk back into your home, light candles on a cake, and wish his best friend a wonderful birthday. all while looking unaffected. because the boy next to you just refuses to respond.

everything, all this, just because you liked a boy.

satoru’s eyes are hazy, and he’s sure he might leave indents on the wheel from his grip. everything about him feels unstable. the world is out of orbit. it's spiraling, keeping him unbalanced. he can't think clearly.

“… you don’t understand.”

no other word choice could have possibly made you more aggravated. a simple rejection could have cut it, and you would have miserably accepted it too. but now, he’s just making it more convoluted, too irritatingly intricate.

“then, god, satoru. help me understand.”

that meekness once displayed is substituted with hurt. genuine, genuine hurt. hurt because this is your fault, hurt because you know you’re being selfish by solely blaming him, hurt because nothing can ever be straightforward when it came to satoru.

you notice him pull-over. it’s an empty parking lot, the only light coming from distant street lamps. you reckon you’d prefer if he just left you stranded there, or if he could have the heart to simply kill yours and take you out of your misery.

“you have a knife back here?”

“shut up.”

it’s dejected, and your attempt at making the tense situation a little more light-hearted fails disastrously. you don’t remember a time where satoru had ever looked this serious. the closest would maybe be when you were sixteen and stupid, almost getting yourself killed when fighting a grade one curse. you wonder if satoru thought of the ordeal with the same fondness.

probably not.

“look-“ the car is parked, and you almost back away when you register him leaning over the console. “listen to me, please.”

you forget how much you cherished the sight of his eyes. as did everyone, you imagined. if you could, you’d paint the world that color. cerulean blue, the shade that mimics real art. unobtainable naturally, but satoru has always been an exception, hasn’t he?

“you told me that you loved me.”

blunt and honest, staring into your very soul.

and you nod, eyes wide, flushed and suddenly embarrassed. because you did. and you meant it.

you loved him more than earth, more than words could explain. you’d recognize his touch under a hundred others, his hands by sight alone. but his stare is all too intense now, and you cower, backing up as much as the small space could let you. and he only gets closer, like a moth to a flame.

“i did.”

satoru lets out a heavy breath, eyes blazing. it’s the most obvious form of visible relief you think you’ve ever seen. because you actually remembered. and you weren’t robbing him by taking back your words.

“you kissed me.”

disbelief, satoru understands it as. he’ll keep asking, because his heart won’t believe it otherwise. this wasn’t a sick, barbaric dream. he’s here with you. and everything is reciprocated.

swallowing thickly, you nod again. the start of the mess.

except, this didn’t really feel like a bad thing anymore. there was tension, so evident it clouded your head, but the reasoning felt different. you lay down your defenses, subconsciously leaning into his warmth. your angelic being, a savior worthy of everything he wished to touch. you’re enchanted.

“i thought…” and his words are almost breathless, because he can feel his body moving closer to yours. he doesn’t stop it. “i thought you wouldn’t remember.”

you feel like a teenager again, hands shaking in nervousness - in fear. what if you closed your eyes? would he still be there?

and you almost want to laugh; tell him that it was all you could really think about for weeks. that softness in his eyes, the gentle affection of his voice. the kiss, god, this kiss.

instead, you shake your head.

“how could i forget?”

that felt impossible. satoru was an idiot, but not like that. he’s rational when he wants to be. you hope he knows that.

there’s a shy smile that adorns his face from your response, and you think you have never seen a more heavenly sight. he’s hesitant, gentle again, as he always was with you.

you lick your lips, sighing deeply in an attempt to fix your labored breathing. you feel like you might pass out.

“satoru.”

there’s a fondness in your voice that is unfamiliar. satoru likes it. he hums, not trusting his voice. he’d happily listen to you forever. you can ask him anything.

“what do you want?”

it’s patient, the tone you hold.

he’s not sure how to answer.

was that fear still there? he can’t turn back now. the friendship has sailed away, going miles overseas. it’s changed. for the better, he now thinks.

he wants you. he wants you so fucking badly that it might kill him. impatience surges through, annihilating the chance of peaceful composure - of any chance to be fair.

because his hands are in your hair, and you register the feeling of his lips before you can fully blink.

it’s pure selfishness, a carnal desire that takes you aback as you struggle to match his feverish movements. his hands are everywhere, grabbing, feeling. but you want it just as badly, if not more. you don’t protest, body moving by will as he grips the bottom of your legs to pull you over himself.

satoru can’t describe the feeling. he’s kissing you stupid. like he’s wanted to since he was sixteen. as an adult, now, he feels as if the wait was worth it. everything was worth it. you were worth everything.

it’s with hesitation that he pulls away, breath heavy, eyes incredibly dilated. his hands are firm on your hips, and he doesn’t dare to move them. they’re under your shirt, feeling the heat of the bare skin. you’re soft.

satoru thinks his heart will explode at the sight of you.

he can see your chest rising and falling. quickly, at that - he hadn’t given you time to breathe. you’re holding on to his shoulders, eyes avoiding his. there’s a pretty shade of pink he can barely see from the dim street light. satoru’s hold on your hips tightens while he stares. your lips are glistening and bruised, all results of him.

you’re shy, head bowing because your mind is reeling.

“hey.”

you feel satoru’s hand leave your side, and it settles itself on your chin. the movement is gentle, but firm. he tilts it up.

the look he gives you flips your stomach. if the universe placed it’s heavens and stars into his eyes, it’d surely be lackluster in comparison.

“hey.” your voice shakes, and it makes satoru grin.

he taps your thigh, tilting his head. “you okay?”

eyes wide, you nod quickly. “y-yeah. yeah. i’m okay.”

that dazed expression you have might be engraved into his memory until the day he dies.

“okay.” he whispers, smile so lovesick it kinda hurts. he brushes a hand up to your face, softly caressing the skin. you only watch him, trying to memorize every single feature - the way his hair falls, his lashes white as snow - as if you hadn’t already after all these years.

there’s a glint of wonder that you see, and you raise a brow, waiting for him to voice his thoughts. you try acting normal, though when you could audibly hear your heartbeat, it was difficult to do.

“what?” you mumble, smile now matching his. it’s infectious.

satoru hums, and you shiver as he leans forward, giving into the temptation to press an incredibly soft kiss on your lips. you let him - it’d be a crime to refuse.

you think you see blossoming gardens when you close your eyes. it’s colorful, mimicking that unexplainable feeling in your chest. unfamiliar, but welcomed. like a paradise, inviting you. you don’t want to leave.

when satoru pulls back, he keeps his forehead against yours, a breathy chuckle leaving him.

the words don’t feel rough on his tongue anymore. it’s only natural. keeping feelings bottled up was bad to do, right?

“i just love you, is all.”

satoru thinks he may have been horribly wrong.

no, this wasn’t scary at all.

[kym-m]

i think deciding to love someone continually is like reading the same book again, but each time finding a different line that hits deep and makes you think about something you didn't realize before. and you decide to read it again and again, knowing you'll never get enough of it, knowing you'll always find something new about them to love.

[kym-m]

竜・Dragon

[kym-m]

GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP

✩ ‧ ˚. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional way—by having sex! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p –> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.

author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)

“did you tell them we’re back together?”

satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.

“yeah, i did,” he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakup—not messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it could’ve easily been avoided. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.

since then, things have been a little different—satoru’s been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your “honeymoon” away from satoru’s stream seems to be coming to a close.

“something smells good,” satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. “wait, is that ramen?” your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully. 

“yeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,” you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.

“y’know, i still haven’t forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,” you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air. 

“...does that mean i don’t get to eat that ramen?” satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.

“maybe, maybe not,” you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.

“boo, you whore.”

you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. “you’re lucky i’m too nice to let you starve, regina,” you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both hands—a habit from his childhood that never went away. “otherwise you’d be—”

satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss. 

“best girlfriend ever,” satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.

“how many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?” he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. it’s cute how satoru’s face lights up at the taste, and it’s even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. “i didn’t know instant ramen could be this good,” he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.

“very funny, satoru,” you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. “and to answer your question, i don’t really know.”

satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. “...wait, what does that mean?”

you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. “i’m not sure how long it’ll take until we’re back to… normal,” you say cautiously. in all honesty, you weren’t that pissed off at him—you never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you weren’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen again.

satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than you’ve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. “any idea how i can make it up to you?”

you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. “you tell me. actions speak louder than words.”

your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. “then lemme prove it to you.”

“satoru, you can’t bribe me with sex.”

“that’s not all i’ll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.”

and that’s how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoru’s soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. “feels s’good, satoru,” you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. “sorry—”

“don’t apologize,” satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. “aw, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. “and i’m the one who should be—fuck, you’re gorgeous—apologizing.”

this isn’t the first time satoru’s eaten you out, but it feels like it every single time—somehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoru’s face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. “shit, i don’t know what i’d be without you,” he murmurs, voice low and steady—and something about his tone makes you certain he’s being completely honest with you.

“you’re so—fuck, satoru, i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, back automatically arching when satoru’s tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give out—but thankfully, satoru’s hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. “‘toru, i can’t—”

“yeah, y’can, just relax that pretty pussy for me,” he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. “c’mon, you’re doing so good f’me, keep going, baby.” and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cum—the sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoru’s face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.

you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoru’s mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what you’re begging him to do, he’s not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck you—so stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies. 

you squeeze satoru’s hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reason—maybe it’s the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe it’s the way he’s holding onto you like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“i won’t,” satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, “and if i do, shoot me.” it sounds like a joke, but you both know that he’s dead serious.

“good thing i won’t have to do that,” you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like home—and that’s the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you. 

satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoru’s jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.

even though it’s only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like it’s been forever—your boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you “so fucking much” as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“fuckin’ hell, i’m never gonna get tired of this,” satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so. 

“yeah, you better not,” you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you can’t remember the last time you felt this good—maybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. “satoru, y’re going so slow—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. “the fuck you mean, i’m going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,” he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. “always so selfish, aren’t you?” he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. “but you’re always—so—fuckin’—sweet,” satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.

“you’re the selfish one,” you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. “you broke up with me for no reason,” you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. “you think i’m gonna forgive you this fast?” 

satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. “will you?” he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.

“maybe.”

“you gotta stop giving me maybe’s, baby—y’re drivin’ me crazy here.”

in the past week, satoru’s done so much for you, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinner—it wasn’t the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smile—by then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.

so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.

“okay,” you whisper. 

satoru’s eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, “does this mean—”

you don’t let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. “c’mon, make me cum,” you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths “i love you” before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.

one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spot—which is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoru’s hips. 

satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. “i knew you’d forgive me,” he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. “m’ so sorry—”

“shut up and fuck me,” you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoru’s dick. 

“as you wish, princess.”

satoru’s breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his high—it’s so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically can’t take any more.

you run your hands all over satoru’s body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch onto—satoru’s always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and you’re only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. “fuck, satoru—”

he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. “shoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. i’m serious.”

you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, “i know i won’t have to.”

[kym-m]

I think one of the most beautiful things about x-reader fanfiction is discovering pieces of the writer sprinkled throughout the fic. Whether it's in their characterization of the canon character or the reader or details about how they like to be touched or loved, or little bits of dialect and personal habits, it's just so endearing. A homage to one of the most basic forms of self expression, and a vulnerable baring of one's soul for others to see. It's so, so special

[kym-m]

gojo’s last appearance this season is on his birthday

gege you are so sick and twisted

[kym-m]

hey gege fuck you my dude

[kym-m]

Birthday post for the birthday boy.

💜🎂💜🎂💜🎂

[kym-m]

𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃❜𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎

𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐀

�� ࣪ ˖ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢, 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜, & 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝘅 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗔!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

(𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧. 𝗠𝗘𝗚𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢, 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗞𝗢 & 𝗠𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗞𝗢, & 𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜)

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟓 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ so, it’s officially the night of december 24, also known as the most important day for filipinos, also known as…..the noche buena incident. time to bring your man home and see if he can survive in a houseful of nosey, all too-happy go-lucky filipinos. 

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. typical filipino family gathering things. drunk titos. lots of karaoke. slight angst. 

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Gets excited for Noche Buena every year because it means he gets to be a menace. 

Christmas celebrations with the Gojo Clan are so stiff and formal. He finds them incredibly stuffy and cold, void of the warmth the holidays are associated with. 

Therefore, he clings to you and your family. It makes you feel horrible for him. 

……but like I said, he uses this as an excuse to be an absolute menace too so your sympathy only exists up until a certain extent. 

If you had it your way, you’d keep him out of the house throughout the entirety of prep day because with him around, things don’t get done as fast. 

He doesn’t just distract you, but he distracts your family and they love him so much that they’ll drop everything just to goof around with him.

That being said, Satoru absolutely survives Noche Buena. If anything, he thrives in it. 

For sure brings the majority of the desserts being served. 

He’s nailed down your family’s Buko Pandan recipe, even knowing which Gulaman to buy. He’s single handedly put someone’s mom out of a job by becoming the sole bringer of Buko Pandan to family gatherings 

Along with that, he brings a shit ton of other desserts like leche flan, puto, chocolate cake, and Kikufuku. 

Literally can blend in with EVERYONE.

He gossips with the titas then checks the SHIT out of them before he leaves to go have a beer with the titos, then makes his way to all the cousins your age, and eventually, you kinda lose him until you hear his maniac laugh from upstairs and the little cousins squealing and running. 

Lowkey spends most of the night fucking around with the kids.

You find him in someone’s room in a massive pillow fort and all the little cousins are huddled in there. 

Highkey the life of the party. 

Definitely joins the drunk titos for karaoke and eggs on their drunk antics.

By the end of the night, he’s just sleepily resting his head on your chest looking up at you with those big stupid eyes of his.

All he can do is hold onto you tightly and thank you for giving him everything…especially a real family and a chance to just be a person. 

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Of course he survives noche buena. 

Not a single person can find a flaw in him. He’s so dignified and refined that not even the fact that he took in twin girls at the age of 18 is questionable to anyone

If anything, it just makes your family, especially the elders, be like “Diyos ko. Ang selfless naman!” and boom their love for him is officially cemented into the fucking earth. Filipinos love a good charity story. 

Nanako and Mimiko are doted on literally the entire time. They’re so pretty and well-behaved, which makes everyone love Suguru even more because his kids are proof that he’s a good dad.

 That being said, everyone will be asking you when you both are gonna have a baby the entire night. 

Suguru shuts down all that talk in a nanosecond. As much as he loves your family, it’s not their business. You are his priority and he won’t stand idly and watch your bodily autonomy be pondered with as if it’s up for discussion. 

The titas never ask that question ever again. 

For sure brings some sort of meat that he spent an entire night marinating and the next day cooking like Yakiniku, lobster and steak, or prime rib. He wants to give your family the impression that he takes feeding them seriously and with high regard. 

Everyone wants a piece of his dish because his holy hands touched it. Even if he were a bad cook, no one would say anything. They would simply eat everything and praise him for contributing. 

He sticks by your side throughout the night, joining in on the conversation or simply observing you as you discuss with stupid lovesick eyes.

He’ll leave once in a while to check on Nanako and Mimiko or have some quick chit chat with the elders and the titos, but he always finds himself back at your side. 

Tries his best to not laugh whenever someone off-tune in your family is busting their ass during karaoke, but eventually, he has his head on your lap with his face red from cackling so hard.

Long story short, your family looks forward to seeing Sugurg more than you. He’s the golden child. 

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Your family finds him intimidating and standoffish in a way that borders rude, but they’re too awed by his handsomeness to even give a shit.

But he’s only a little stiff because he’s incredibly nervous. He knows how much your family means to you and wants nothing but to get along with them for your sake. 

Once he warms up, everyone gets to see the charming, sweet, and gentlemanly Kento you know and love. 

He is the PERFECT man for you according to your family…and for your other titas and cousins should things between you two not work out. 

He brings a very big and elaborate charcuterie board paired with a few bottles of wine. 

The main attraction? His homemade ube and cheese pandesal and slices of French baguette. 

Everyone gets a nosebleed watching him roll his sleeves up and slice the bread. Even your titos.

The titos love him because he can out drink him and they think he’s the epitome of a man.

If Nanamin has decided to go Papamin and bring Yuuji, he only earns more respect from your family. 

Everyone loves Yuuji because he’s a ray of sunshine who eats everything the titas and lolas put on his plate with enthusiasm. 

All you hear throughout the night is, “Ay, Yuuji! Try this one, anak. Ma sarap.” “You’re such a good boy, Yuuji.”

Similar to Suguru with Nanako and Mimiko, seeing how well-rounded Yuuji is and knowing it’s because of Kento’s influence will only earn him more respect. 

Also similar to Suguru, he sticks to your side the entire night. He’s there for you after all. 

Makes your plate for you with all of your favorite foods and the perfect amounts of everything. Even your dessert plate. 

He compliments everyone’s food politely and the next thing you know their eyes are morphing into the shape of hearts. 

If you don’t marry him, they will.

Good thing he’s already planned that step. 

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

….Can’t even lie to you, everyone thinks he’s a felon at first. 

How the hell did he get that scar? He’s a single dad? Anak, that’s not good! He comes with baggage! 

Toji is immediately suspicious to everyone. 

But they quickly learn not to judge a book by its cover.

Their lesson? Megumi. 

Your family witnesses firsthand how mature and intelligent Megumi is and they’re like…no..he couldn’t possibly–

YEA. THAT BOY WAS RAISED BY THAT SCARY MAN. 

They start opening their minds up to Toji and suddenly all the signs appear. 

The way he looks at you? The way his touch is always soft? The way he hovers over you protectively like he’s about to catch a bullet for you at at moment? The way he tells your family that he named Megumi his name because Megumi is his blessing? 

Toji is just a family man who has had a rough life. He loves you.

And that’s all your family can ask for; a family man who loves you. 

At some point your mom can’t handle the whispers anymore and while you three are off making your rounds to everyone, your mom gives them some context–his wife died, and he raised Megumi by himself. 

Boom. Sympathy points secured. 

Although no one will admit that they’ve misjudged him or directly apologize for doing so because of pride, they all go home with heavy hearts that night. 

Toji though? He doesn’t give a shit. He knows what it’s like to cut off “family”. He’s already detached himself from all of those who judged. It’s you he proves himself to, not them. 

He takes it in stride, not ruffling any feathers. He knows all it takes is one look from him for everyone to shit their pants anyway.

In true dilf fashion, he brings Filipino-style barbeque chicken and a beer. 

Suddenly the titos are besties with him and he’s one of the guys. 

He eventually congregates with them when a boxing match comes on. Megumi sticks by your side like the best boy and gets cooed at while he eats. 

Toji periodically comes back to embarrass Megumi.

This man literally picks him up and holds him in the air while cooing to him like he isn’t a whole teenager. 

That wins over everyone officially. 

He’s just a dad a man trying to be a good husband now that he has a second chance. 

© all rights reserved to fushic0re ─ do not repost, translate, copy, or plagiarize my work in any form.

[kym-m]

gojo satoru is the strongest because if my handsome depressed boyfriend with long lucious hair and sweet voice told me he wanted to kill everyone i would've simply kissed him and said okay what else

[kym-m]

men who are “my wife” this and “my wife” that.

[kym-m]

if i keep posting nonsense eventually one of you has to fall in love with me