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totallynotlx · 7 months

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Playing House in the Ruins of Us

You never really had control over your life from the very beginning. You are but a pawn to your clan—a means to expand your family's power. Your marriage to some noble was inevitable, set before you could walk. Meanwhile, in comes Gojo Satoru. A snobby little future head of the Gojo clan, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world. A womanizer. Unserious. And yet, he cannot let you go, a girl who never really had any control of her destiny. You envied each other as you represented something that each couldn't have, yet he is the only escape from your cruel world… but in exchange for your sanity.

Aka, Gojo learns to mellow down… but he is not going down with a fight. And neither are you. Why would you fall in love with such a self-centered (but gorgeous) man?

Notes: Canon-divergent. Gojo adopts Tsumiki and Megumi when they're a bit older. Some events also happen a bit later on in the timeline.

A/N: Bruh, this is such a fever dream. It's been a while since I've written anything, so pardon me if I'm rusty. I blame this lanky ass white-haired little meow meow for bringing me back from the dead. We came up with the whole story in two sittings… So yeah, we know how this goes, and we planned to make it hurt. We are just your typical hurt/comfort enjoyers uwu

Tags: Arranged Marriage (Reader to someone else), Eventual Smut, Smut, Drinking Games, One Night Stands, Masturbation, Porn Video (oop), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Words: 13.3k

Ao3 link if you prefer

✦﹒chapter 1: encounters over drinks﹒✶﹒﹒

A glass clinks. A nearby clock ticks endlessly. The music is booming, but he can barely hear it with how he's feeling. He takes a swig from the amber drink from his glass, sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge, not hiding the prettiest snow-white lashes. One of the few reasons he earned a couple of stares from people around the nightclub. Except for the neon lights flashing every couple of seconds, there is no reason why a person would need sunglasses in a dark place like this… Well, an average person anyway… and he is anything but. Pristine albino white hair dangled freely on his forehead, hiding the most luminous cerulean blue eyes one will ever see. He is incredibly tall. His feet reached the floor despite the tall bar stool he was sitting on. Eye candy is an understatement to describe him. Girls would ogle from across the room, daring each other to try and talk to this man who seemed out of place. He looked almost too elegant for a nightclub. One particular girl started to make her way toward him. Her strides are confident, hair swishing with each step she took in her high heels. Unbeknownst to her, he was painfully aware of her approach, a smirk already forming on his lips. The girl sat down to his right and was about to order her drink when he called the bartender instead.

"Make her whatever she wants. My treat." The voice was almost melodic. The girl internally noted a tinge of playfulness and boyish charm dripping from his voice. "Ah, where are my manners? I’m Gojo, Gojo Satoru.” He extends his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Sleep slowly escaped from his grasp. Blue eyes slowly take in the early morning rays of the sun. The room was unfamiliar but neat, and Gojo slowly took in his surroundings. He could feel the slow breathing of the person beside him and remembered the heavy breaths and sweaty bodies giving in to pleasure and passion.

Right. That happened.

He sat up, scanning the room for his clothes. They were all over the place. Guess he had a fun night. A smirk creeps up on his lips as he slowly gets off the bed, careful not to wake up the person beside him. He slowly picks up his clothes on the floor and puts on his pants, brushing his hair away from his eyes. He picks up his sunglasses and puts them in his pockets before leaving the room. He heads to the kitchen and grabs and sips a glass of water before getting another drink and returning to the bedroom. He sets the glass on the bedside table before putting his shirt on, not bothering to leave a note before teleporting away.

In the blink of an eye, his surroundings changed as naturally as one would breathe—perks of someone with complete mastery of their technique. The penthouse apartment he owned was mainly empty except for the minimalistic pieces of furniture. Gojo Satoru wasn't the type to decorate as he didn't spend much time in this house, traveling all over Japan, sometimes even overseas, but he kept his place tidy. He drops his sunglasses on his kitchen counter and heads to the shower.

He turns the showerhead on, letting his hair get soaked as he stares at his feet. Another night, another woman. It's always the same old song and dance. Who wouldn't? In his experience, no other person has been able to resist him. A smile, a suggestive head tilt, a flirtatious conversation, and they'd be head over heels. It was too damn easy.

He continued to prepare for his day. Despite being a bit hungover, he still has responsibilities to the jujutsu world that he cannot escape from, and his day has barely started.

A loud ringing stirs your peaceful sleep, and you open your eyes just as the sun's rays pierce through the gaps in your curtains. Even the little light filtering into your room makes your eyes hurt as an aftermath of your all-nighter. Studying and practicing the law wasn't something you wanted to do, but you're already in too deep to back the fuck out. It's the weekend after your exams, and you wonder why the hell your alarm was ringing… or was that even an alarm? You drowsily fish your phone from your bedside table and realize it's not an alarm but a call.

Shit.

In the next hour or so, you try to make yourself as presentable as possible. Scouring your wardrobe for one of your formal kimonos, you tie your hair in a neat bun before heading down from your apartment. As told by your mother over the phone, your family has sent one of the family cars to fetch you. When he spotted you, the driver headed out to open the door for you. You silently got in the car, and it wasn't long before the engine started.

You were heading back to your clan's ancestral home for a discussion. A discussion you would rather not have: your marriage arrangements. Your marriage to another powerful clan's son was already set in stone when you were born. Everyone in the family was abuzz with excitement the moment you turned eighteen. Not just because it was your turning of age but because you can finally be a pawn to your clan's motives to become a more powerful, prominent clan in Japan. You scoff at the idea. If not for their offering you freedom in exchange for your obedience, you would have left long ago. Despite taking your choices for a longtime partner, they let you choose your profession. They allowed you out of the house and gave you your apartment. A small price to pay if you are being honest…

You reached the compound gates, greeted by the same old trees and rows of houses you knew growing up. As you approach the main house, you steel your nerves, looking into your phone one final time to ensure you are "perfect" before the car stops and the driver opens the door for you. You put on the bravest face as you step out of the car and into the house, taking a deep breath as you do so.

You've met your fiancé before but have yet to like him. And whenever you two were to spend time together, you both found new ways to disagree. To say that you never got along was an understatement… and to think you are resigning yourself to this fate. You two were to join families, produce children to carry on your families' bloodline, and stay together for better or worse. God, you both hated each other for no reason other than that the other represented each other's misery.

The discussion took forever, and the sun was already setting when you exited the house— as much as you were relieved it was over, the clan head's decision rang in your head loud and clear: Next spring, they said. When flowers are in bloom, they said. It'll be a beautiful wedding, they said. Neither you nor your future husband utters a word or opinion. Never looked at each other, just plastering fake smiles and nodding in agreement with whatever they recommended. You sigh as you enter your apartment, putting your slippers neatly on the genkan. You headed straight to your bedroom, eager to get out of your kimono as if it was contaminated. It was the weekend, and you're sure as hell not letting some shitty ass marriage discussion ruin your mood. You worked your ass off during the week on your studies, and it was finally time to unwind. Yes, tonight you needed release. A little bit of freedom. A little bit of control over your decisions.

In a couple of hours, you walked up to the bar of your favorite exclusive nightclub. You had no intention or plans to be there, but what transpired earlier that day warranted a night out instead of a night wallowing in your misery and sleeping it off. You ordered your favorite drink, a lemon sour, and after downing a glass or two, you danced with anyone and everyone in your vicinity.

Gojo Satoru had also seemingly found himself here. He'd made himself a little non-sorcerer friend after saving him from the malice of a curse. This guy had no way of thanking Gojo other than getting him into this club. As to how this man had exclusive rights to invite guests to said club, Gojo had yet to learn. Very peculiar, honestly. So he went. He went to drink his night away. He went to find his next delectable prey. And fate moved you to each other just as the moon pushed water to land.

After dancing for maybe an hour or so, you wanted another drink, and that was when you noticed him. This white-haired man, seemingly, gets beer as any other average person. In comparison, you get another lemon sour. You stood beside each other respectfully, waiting for your drink, when he looked at you. He hadn't entirely decided who he would devour next, but a salacious smile spread on his face when he saw you. If he only knew that he, too, was nothing but prey that night.

When you approached the bar, you noticed him immediately. And you knew you weren't the only one. It had taken every nerve in your body not to stare at this white-haired man, who stood out slightly more than the other men in the club. I mean, with that hair and those tinted glasses, who wouldn't notice him? But you'd instead break your wrist before being caught ogling him.

He slowly leaned towards you, "Such a sour drink for such a sweet-looking girl," he bent down to your ear. You shivered. His sensuous and breathy voice had you licking your lips. God, his voice is delectable. You steal a glance at this man. And you catch a hint of blue behind the glasses that sat low on his nose. Pretty, you thought, and it took everything in you to steel your nerves and discreetly clear your throat.

"You're one to talk. Your words don't match your eyes." You tell him, earning yourself a chuckle, and you're convinced that this man is blessed by the gods.

"Why? Pray tell what you think they are telling you, hm?"

"Your words are flirtatious, sweet even, but your eyes... It looks like you're already undressing me with them." You raise an eyebrow. A challenge.

Snarky, gotta love that, Gojo thought. He likes a good challenge… especially if it's worth it. And you look like you are… and if there's one thing that doesn't lie, it's his Six Eyes.

"What if I am?" He smirks, and you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs, and you can't help the heat that travels to your face. How did one sentence affect you so much? You thought you were both hunters looking for prey, but with one look, he has you feeling like you are nothing but an easy target. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" He smirks at you before you blink the confusion out of your eyes. You immediately grab your drink and down it, hoping to give you some of your boldness back. He laughs as you down your glass and orders another. "Whoa, slow down there, hotshot."

You raise an eyebrow at him, the gears in your brain turning your mind-to-mouth filter off. "Those won't be the words coming out of your mouth tonight." You smirk.

At the moment, you wish you could have captured it. The way his eyes widened and darkened with arousal. Satoru didn't expect the spark he noticed in you was not just an ember but a full-on flame.

"Oh? Is that a promise?" He leans in closer, his face inches from yours, and you can smell his cologne.

"Hm. Maybe." You answer as your next drink arrives.

"Y'know, I never got your name." He whispers to your ear as you stare at your glass, trying to distract yourself more than anything. You slowly turn to him, meeting his eyes. Even in the dark, you can notice how luminous they are.

"Dance with me, and maybe I'll let you know."

You didn't have to say anything before he downs his beer and takes your hand towards the dance floor. The music comes and goes, and so did the both of you. You and this mysterious, handsome man alternate between dancing and drinking the night away. As time goes on, you get more and more drunk. The next thing you know, you were stumbling to the nearest hotel with him. The next couple of hours were a blur. All you know is the heat that trailed after his touches. The passionate kisses that were borderline bites all over your body. This man was unlike any other you've ever shared a night of passion with. He not only had the stamina, but he made sure that you felt every ounce of pleasure he was feeling. He was nothing short of amazing.

The morning creeps up too soon for your liking. The bed felt strange, and an unfamiliar warmth emanated from beside you. You rub your eyes with your hand when you hear a light snoring beside you. You struggle to open your eyes and can only guess you only have a few hours of sleep. When you finally open them, you see the man beside you. His face was peaceful, his breathing steady. Due to the dim lights, you couldn't notice it the night before, but he has the prettiest and longest lashes you've ever seen. So, it does match his hair… You thought like you haven't seen his—

He stirs. He reaches out to you and pulls you close, which catches you off guard. That's also when you realize that you two were skin-to-skin. It wasn't new, but sleeping beside such a gorgeous being made you conscious of yourself more than usual. You stay still for a few seconds until you feel him relax again. Exhaling a breath you didn't know you were holding, you unwrap his arm around you. You get out from under the covers and try to leave the bed quietly, picking up your clothes scattered around the room. There was a visible limp in your step. God, that man had you writhing under the palm of his hand all night, and it shows. Slowly, you tried to put your clothes back on, making yourself as presentable as possible. You turn to the en suite bathroom to wash your face and fix your hair. Walking was still uncomfortable but tolerable, and you gave the sleeping man in the bed an almost offensive side-eye.

"Fucking bastard with endless stamina." You curse under your breath with a shake of your head. You would be lying to yourself if you were to deny that last night was similar to an out-of-body experience. I'll outdo him next time, you thought, as a defeated laugh escaped you. The thought was wishful thinking as the chances of meeting this man are slim, and you probably won't meet him again. You walk and reach towards the door, opening it as quietly as you can before closing it behind you.

One ring.

Two rings.

Then another.

Gojo grumbles as the sound rouses him from his deep sleep. He stretched an arm to the other side of the bed, seeking warmth, but it was cold. Forcing his eyes open, he looked around the room but found no sign of his alluring companion.

Another ring brings him out of his reverie, and he sighs. He kicks the covers and hops out of bed, looking for his pants where his phone buzzed. He rummages through his pockets for the damned thing and sees Principal Yaga's name on the caller ID. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he presses the answer button.

"Gojo speaking~." He says in a tone that will most likely annoy the older man.

"Satoru, where the hell are you?! You're late to the meeting. AGAIN. " His former sensei admonishes.

"Yes, yes, I know." Gojo scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Gimme thirty minutes, and I'll be there." Yaga begins to argue about his attitude, but Gojo quickly ends that call. He drops his phone on the bed and sighs again.

Well, that's new. Gojo thinks to himself. That was the first time that he overslept on a one-night stand. Usually, he's the one who leaves the other person first. This was a first, even for him. He didn't want to admit it, but he slept comfortably beside that woman. He wonders internally if he'll ever find her again, but he doesn't dwell on it. The strongest doesn't dwell on the minuscule things... lest it leads to... other things. His musing is cut short as his phone buzzes. Another message from Principal Yaga.

I didn’t even get her name. He thinks, disappointedly, before he finally starts preparing for the meeting he was already late for.

The week after that felt familiar, other than the uncomfortable fact that you could still feel the consequences of your weekend escapades. Working on your studies that Monday felt like it took ages. Sure, the long hours kept you preoccupied, but you would be lying if your mind didn't wander to that gorgeous stranger you had a fun night with. It's a shame you couldn't get his name, but oh well. With your marriage arrangements finally official, meeting someone wouldn’t change a thing.

Another few weeks pass, another week of savoring the last year of your freedom before you get sold off to your fiance. By the following year, your whole life would be shifting. And that idea irks you. Your independence is closer to a sham, but at least it allows you to do whatever you want. You're guessing that after the wedding, both clans would demand that you two do your responsibilities of continuing the bloodline. You don't even love the man you're going to get married to! And they expect children from that?

I need a drink. You thought, massaging your temples as you looked over the school papers you were working on.

8:00 PM, the digital clock reads on your screen. It was still pretty early, but you felt the fatigue deep in your bones. God, you felt so tired. You stretch your back and briefly lean back on your chair before closing your eyes.

You don't remember how it happened, but you somehow ended up in your bed. In your exhaustion, you may have just crawled to your mattress. You were comfortable enough, but you could audibly hear someone else in the room with you. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you realize two things. One, your wrists are bound above your head, secured by one large hand. And two, soft lips and warm hands trailing your upper body.

"What the—"

"Shhh..." He murmurs before kissing your neck. It took your eyes a couple of seconds to adjust to the dark before you could recognize the familiar white hair.

"How—? A-Ah, how did you find me?" You manage to ask as you feel his hand travel from your side to cup one of your breasts, and you tremble at the touch, just like that night. "I didn't even give you my name—"

"Mmm..." He hums, lips sucking at your skin. You were sure it'd leave a mark. "Call it luck, but I just had to find you."

At this point, his thumb started to brush over your hardened nipple, and you let out a gasp. "Ah! Wait—"

"Such pretty noises." He comments before his lips meet yours. His hand that was massaging your nipple, now ghosted over your skin as it traveled down your body, back arching toward his caresses unconsciously.

Apart from his touches, your brain is going haywire trying to understand how this nameless man had found you. You struggle to push his advances back as you lay down helpless. His kisses lingered, and everywhere he touched ignited a fire within you. He left you panting, wanting.

"Aww. Look at you... You're already a mess, baby. And I've barely done anything." He gives you a smirk as he lets go of your wrists. His large hands grab you by the hips, and he pulls you to him.

You squirm but don't retaliate anymore. The man before you groans at your unintended movement, and he uses it to his advantage. He rubs his erection against you, and you moan.

"Yeah? Tell me. Let me know how much you want me. Show me how much you missed me."

You wake with a jolt, almost falling from your chair. Your cheeks flushed, and you felt hot all over as your heart pounded in your chest. One sentence rang in your head as you tried to steady your breathing, "What the fuck was that?"

Gojo lounges in his office lazily. His mission was shorter than expected, the curse being a tad weaker than he thought it'd be, making him available for the rest of the day. He opens his phone and looks at the time. It was almost nighttime, and surprisingly, his schedule was free. Well, he had been taking more jobs recently to let off steam and due to this it was recommended (forced) that he take a break. On his way home, his mind wandered back to that night. He remembers how her hair was sprawled on the pillow, how loud her moans were, even the sting of her nails digging crescent moons on his back as she pulled him closer, deeper .

He didn’t want to admit it, but she was the first one who kept up with him all night, and the fact that she was the first one to leave the hotel was remarkable. Especially after all he put her through. He could have kept going in the morning but knew he shouldn't because of the way she was heaving and quivering by the end of the night. God, she was gorgeous, though. She looked so good as sweat dripped down her body, and how she responded to his body was heavenly.

He shakes his head lightly as he pockets his phone after changing. He rummages through the drawers of his room, looking for one of his casual sunglasses. He didn’t need to look at himself in the mirror to know he looked good. Instead he walked past it and the empty wall behind it. It wasn’t always empty. There used to be pictures and decorations but that was another time. He’s no longer that person anymore. He leaves the room without a second glance.

"Well, whatever." Shrugging, he begins walking out of his apartment and towards the nightclub where he met you. He then swaps his blindfold for his glasses, ruffling his hair down before he teleports away.

When Gojo arrived, there were a fair amount of people—groups of people on the dance floor, a series of bodies intertwining. Some are on the lounges, drinking, talking, or making out. He notices a free spot by the bar but not one sign of the familiar face he hoped to see. Sure, he could have easily tracked you down using his family connections, but the strongest jujutsu sorcerer doesn't chase after women; women would beg to crawl into his bed every time.

He takes one of the barstools and sits. He doesn't drink alcohol often, so he orders his usual beer. It doesn't take long before his order arrives, and he takes a tentative sip before scanning the crowd again. Still, no sign of her.

Well, it doesn't matter if she's not here. There's always another. And Gojo was right. Not long after, a woman begins to walk towards him. He didn't need to, but he lowered his glasses down his nose to "take a good look" at her. He gave her a tilt of his head, and the way she smiled at him was all the sign he needed. It was always way too easy.

The case that you studied today dragged on longer than you liked. It was a difficult one that you had to pull unexpected extra hours of research, and you were rushing home to be able to change for your usual nightly shenanigans. Decided to go to a more casual bar this time as you didn't really have time to doll yourself up much, and seeing as to how stressed you are about your studies, you just wanted to let off some steam. You get out of your clothes as soon as possible, shower, put on one of your casual dresses from your closet, and bolt out of the house. As much as you didn't like yourself turning into an alcoholic, with your situation? Sometimes, a drink is all that makes you forget.

Even though it's the weekend, only a couple groups of people are in the bar. A few played tabletop games, and a couple sat on the lounges and listened to the live band. The atmosphere was just what you needed after a hard day's work. You approach the bar with plans to drink the night away.

Gojo saunters towards the bar a couple minutes after you. He surprisingly had the weekend off again. Apparently, he didn't notice that he was going on a rampage against the curses all over the city. A blessing and a curse, as per Principal Yaga. As much as he appreciates it, he doesn't want Gojo to overwork himself. He already upholds most of the jujutsu society, so he had him take the weekend off.

It was just an impulsive decision to come here. Gojo doesn't drink that often, and after last time's failed attempt to find that woman, he wasn't hopeful. He sighs as he enters the bar, eyes downcast, and he plans to stay here for a couple hours before switching to his usual nightclub. Music was already playing over the speakers, and he could hear a group cheering over some games; that's when he looked up and spotted a familiar silhouette by the bar. Any other person would doubt their eyes due to the dim lights, but unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how one looks at it), he was blessed with keen eyes in his case. His strides become more confident as he approaches the bar. He sits beside you, seeing the same drink you had the first time you met.

"Why's a sweet girl drinking such a sour drink?" Your head turns almost immediately to the familiar question. "Yo~!" He gives you a playful wave of a hand and a wink as he gains your attention. "Mister, give me a beer and another of whatever she’s having." He says before turning to you. "My treat."

You raise an eyebrow at the man before you. It's him again. "Well, if it's on your tab, I'll get some wine instead." You smirk at him.

"I see we're feeling fancy tonight," a devilish smile on his lips, "Mister! Scratch my first order. Give me a bottle of your finest wine." He remarks as he grabs the bottle and two glasses the bartender slides towards him. "Why don't we take this to a table instead? Care to join me?"

"As long as you keep supplying the alcohol," you laugh as you follow his lead.

Gojo leads you to one of the empty tables and kicks the chair instead of pulling it for you since both of his hands are occupied. You shake your head at the gesture but appreciate it anyway. He pours you a drink setting the wind down, and you mutter thanks under your breath.

You grab the bottle and pour him a glass, as well. "So, what brought you here tonight?" He asks, breaking the silence. You look at him for a few seconds before shaking your head no. You take a gulp of wine, and the man before you chuckles as he watches.

"That bad you don't even want to share, huh? Alright, keep your secrets," he says with a smirk before taking a sip from his own glass.

You sit there in silence before he breaks the ice again. "You come here often?"

"After a stressful day at school? Absolutely." You scoff, swirling the drink in your hand.

"Hmm..." He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Enough about me." You wave him off before he can even ask another question. "What brought you here tonight?"

"I usually hit the bars first before I—" He cuts himself off. Before I go to the nightclub and find a woman to bed tonight.

"What? Say it, where are you going?" You challenge.

"Nah, nothing important. And, no place is as interesting as here right now." He smirks, and it almost makes you blush. "But I digress. What's got you drinking so much this late in the evening?"

You give off a sound between a scoff and a laugh. "What is this? 21 questions?"

A mischievous grin spreads at that thought. "You know, that's not a bad suggestion." He comments. "But maybe we could switch the wine for some harder liquor for that. What do you think?"

"I'm not saying no to a free drink." You shrug as you finish your glass of wine. He smirks and gestures to order a bottle of shochu.

"Alright, you can start since you didn't answer my first question." He gives you a mock pout, and you can only laugh at him.

"That's very kind of you." You tell him as you start thinking about what questions to ask this mysterious man. "Okay, I got one."

"Shoot."

"What's the worst date you've ever been on?"

"Never been on one." And you look at him with disbelief. "No one wants to hang out long enough for that. It's always the bedroom." He shrugs.

"No fucking way. How the hell have you not been on dates?" With that face and all. But you keep that last thought to yourself.

"Hey, you only get one question. Drink." And so you drink a shot, the burning sensation of the alcohol lingering in your throat. "My turn." It takes him a few seconds before he asks, "Are you a cat person, a dog person, or something else?"

"Definitely a cat person. Not that I ever had one."

"Really? I thought you'd be a dog person."

"Ah, ah, my turn now." He gestures for you to continue. "What do you do for work?" Without hesitation, he drinks, and you give him a sideways glance. "Alright, keep your secrets then. " You tell him as he chuckles.

"Do you like coffee or tea better?" He shoots you his next question.

"Coffee, the more bitter it is, the better. And you?"

"Tea, but very sweet."

"I never thought you to have a sweet tooth." You remark as he shrugs once again.

"My turn. Why are you single? Or at least I'm guessing you are..."

Well, that's a no-brainer. You mentally thought before taking a shot.

"Alright,” he lets out a laugh at how quickly you avoided that question, “Moving on then." He comments as he braces himself to be asked the same thing, but the question never comes. Instead, he finds you deep in thought for your next question. Huh.

"What's your love language?"

"Hmm..." He takes a second to think. "I'm not too sure."

You gesture to his glass. "You gotta drink." And so he does, and you watch as he downs a shot, eyes wandering to his throat as his Adam's apple bobs as he drinks.

He sets down his glass and pours you another. "Alright, my next question... What are you most proud of yourself for?"

Gojo's watchful eyes fell on you as you answered the question silently and drank without reluctance, the alcohol going down smoothly now that you've had a couple shots. You came here tonight to rid yourself of your problems, not to think of them.

"Oh, it's like that then."

"Shh. My turn." You shush him as you pour him another. "Have you ever had your heart broken?"

He drinks, and you mockingly scoff at him. "Are we just going to avoid all the difficult questions then?"

He smirks at you as he finishes his glass. "Double question~." He says in an almost sing-song manner as he pours you another shot, motioning for you to drink. You purse your lips together in mock irritation before drinking anyway.

"My turn again." He says as he pointedly looks at you. "How do you like to spend your free time? Or rather, what's a perfect day for you?"

You think long and hard about your answer. Given your situation, your home life could be better. You've never known "normal," even as a kid, not when you were raised as your family's pawn. You sigh before you drink. Again.

"You gotta be kidding." He looks at you inquisitively. "There's no way you don't know what a perfect day is for you... Do you mean to say our little night of mischief a couple weeks ago wasn't ideal for you?"

You shake your head with a chuckle but don't say anything. Sure, you usually end up in other men's beds during your nightly adventures, but it's not really something you would consider perfect. You gesture to his glass. "Double question. Drink."

He puts his hands up in surrender before downing another shot. You can feel that the drinks are starting to affect you, and you feel lightheaded, but in a way that you don't remember why you were drinking in the first place. It was like the first day you met him. He made it easy to forget everything other than the now. You internally thank fate for this mysterious white-haired man with pretty blue eyes who kept you company. Ah.

"What's your favorite thing about yourself?" You blurt the question after that line of thought.

He laughs heartily. "My face." He says without any doubt, which makes you look at him in disdain. "What? At least it gets me laid." He adds as he wiggles his eyebrows at you with the same boyish smile you remember from your first meeting. The same smile he gave you in your fever dream of him, the smile that hinted that he was up to no good. Oh god... You look away, but you know it is too late. You felt your cheeks heat up, your eyes widening as if you were a child caught stealing candy from a jar. "Oh! So you agree!" He notes with such excitement, trying to steal a look at your face as you look away.

"Oh, shut up!" You pushed him away, but really, it was understandable.

"Aww, you're no fun~" He sounds sulking but settles down before asking his next question. "Fine. My question. Where would you go if you could go anywhere?"

That makes you pause and consider. "I'm not sure. I've never really thought about that. I've never been too far out of the city." Not with your family holding you by the neck.

"Tsk tsk," he waves an admonishing finger at you, "drink. That's such an ambiguous answer."

You fidget with your glass before you down your shot. You can barely feel the aftertaste of the alcohol with how much you have drunk. "My turn. Who is the most important person in your life?"

With no hesitation, he drinks.

You look at him in a bit of a shock. His eyes look somewhat distant than it was a second ago. "We should probably start hitting the harder stuff, huh?" You suggest as you try to reel him back to reality.

"Agreed. Especially if you keep asking these types of questions..." He shakes his head with a defeated laugh. Shortly, he stood up and ordered another bottle of drinks from the bartender. As he approaches, you recognize the bottle of whisky in his hands.

Well then.

He opens the bottle and pours you a glass before settling down in his chair again. "Oh! I got a good one."

"Go for it."

"Have you ever cheated on anything or anyone?"

You take a second to think. You think about your marriage arrangements... Is it still considered cheating when you've never been with your fiance? You don't even have that kind of feelings for each other. Ah, shit. Internally, you erase the thoughts as quickly as they came and drink instead.

He gives you a sideways glance. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Stop asking double questions. Drink." You scold him with a subtle slap on his arm. "But to be fair, that's karma for the last question." He rolls his eyes playfully as he downs another shot.

You lean into the table as you hold your glass in your hand, trying to get a good look at this mysterious stranger's face before presenting your next question. "What would you change if you could go back in time and do something differently?"

A look of sentimentality bleeds into his eyes, and Gojo briefly thinks of Amanai. There wasn't a mission after that where he didn't think of how much better he could have handled things. Okay, nope, not tonight. "You're asking some real tough ones, huh? But unfortunately for you, I'm not answering that either." He says before taking a swig.

"Whatever." You say with a laugh and drink with him anyway as the alcohol starts to cloud your mind.

"Have you ever failed at something?" He asks, swirling the drink in his glass.

Not even a split second later, you find yourself chugging your drink. You think about your situation, and even though you have your current freedom, your family still controls most of your life. Well, it's not that you failed to get your liberty entirely. Still, you didn't succeed either... and you don't plan on elaborating on that tonight. Meanwhile, Shoko and Geto's faces flash before Gojo’s mind, and he finds himself drinking after you on the same question he asks. The drinks even hit harder on your next question.

"Have you ever made a promise that you didn't keep?" You ask him just out of curiosity. He doesn't say anything and feigns a laugh. He sure is thinking about the past a lot tonight. It takes him a second to down his shot, the questions getting more instinctive than the first few.

"Who in your life most makes you feel a sense of home?" He throws you back a question just as quickly. You reflect on it. Your childhood flashed at the back of your mind. It wasn't a welcome memory. Sure, you were given all your necessities, but that was all. It could have been better. And right now? You don't think there's a place you call home. You drink a mouthful of your drink as it is easier to swallow than explain that in detail.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" You blurt out almost spontaneously. He opens his mouth to answer but stops before the words leave his lips. Instead, he reaches out for his glass and drinks. You give him a once-over, and his question follows not even a second later.

"Do you believe in second chances?" He asks.

"Hmm... That depends..." You rest your cheek against the palm of your hand. "You know what, never mind." You add, before drinking. Surprisingly, he takes a drink with you.

You wipe your lips with your thumb before asking him your next question. "Have you ever changed your mind about something you were once sure about?"

The back of a particular black-haired man flashes again at the back of his mind. Ah, fuck it. Satoru internally cusses before grabbing the bottle and chugging it. As he places the bottle back on the table, you smirk. You take it from his hand before taking a swig. So many questions. So many drinks. And both of you were just being tight-lipped now.

"Alright, last one." He smirks right back before leaning into you. "What's your name?"

You peek at him from under your lashes before intertwining your hand with his. "I got something more interesting for you." You remark as you stand up from the table, dragging him out of the bar.

He smirks at you, knowing. He wanted to bury his memories; he knew you could help him with that.

Unlike last time, this time you ended up in the first-class district of the city, courtesy of this white-haired man. You may not know his name, but one could think he’s filthy rich. Being able to book such a luxurious hotel in this part of the city on a whim. You should have known better about following rich men around this part of town, but here you are, cuddled up to his side as his fingers traced circles on your skin.

Gojo keeps himself awake this time, feeling your warmth against his body. Everything felt... perfect. And that felt weird. Nothing felt right since that incident in his life, so why was he feeling this way now? He leans into you, letting go of his initial thoughts as his cheek settles on your head, inhaling your scent with a smile. You smelled like cherry blossoms in full bloom. The calm before the storm that's called his life. The sense of normality. He hated to admit it, but maybe he was hoping to see a glimpse of you anywhere because you brought this sense of peace to him. Only one word could describe what he is feeling right now: satisfied.

"Hey? You still with me?" He murmurs, and he feels you nod against his side. Another surprise. Usually, the women he beds wouldn't be able to keep up with him, but if the first time you met wasn't much of a hint that you were different already, this confirms that. "I'm surprised you're still awake."

"Mm... barely." You say with a slight giggle. You can feel yourself slowly drifting to sleep.

"Then sleep." He slaps your arm playfully, chuckling after you. "You deserve that much." He remarks, turning to his side before he pulls you close to his chest and sighs contentedly.

Another month passes in the blink of an eye. Your mind wanders as you take a pause from working on your paperwork. It was a weekend, but after that last meeting with your tall, silver-haired friend, you haven't had the chance to go clubbing recently. Every case you handled the past month took it out of you, making you crash and sleep whenever you had the opportunity. You wonder where he is now after you left him in the hotel. Now that you think about it, you've already done that twice, never leaving him anything. He probably won't pay attention to me again if we ever see each other. You thought disappointedly before taking a sip of your coffee.

You sigh as you turn your attention to your surroundings. The cafe is quiet except for a few people. It's one of the few places you love in this cursed city. You love the brewed coffee here, and it is your go-to whenever you have to motivate yourself to work on weekends. You switch your focus on the pile of documents you have to review on your table. You are making progress, no matter how small, but it felt like you weren't doing enough, not even when you've been pulling all-nighters. You sigh at the thought.

"Ah! It's you!" A familiar voice exclaimed, and you turned towards the sound and blinked at the figure you saw. The friendly white-haired man trotted towards you with visible happiness before settling on the chair across you. He's right before you, but you refuse to believe it. He was wearing a dark, zip-up-looking jacket with a high and wide collar and pants of the same color, his signature sunglasses surprisingly absent. His hair and those blue eyes look even more vibrant with his outfit—

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He smirks. You recall that callback from when you were caught staring at him. And you're doing it again. With that, you are brought back from your reverie.

You shake your head lightly, blinking your eyes from your daze. He's really here. Weirdly, fate makes you two meet whenever and wherever. "What are you doing here?"

He shows you the bag of kikufuku he had brought from a popular store you recognize. Now you remember that night you were playing 21 questions—almost what? A month ago now? "Ah. Sweets, of course."

"I was in the area while... doing some stuff for work." He states. "And for your information, before you start accusing me like everybody else, I'm not slacking off either. I just finished early." He says almost too proudly. You now also remember that he didn't elaborate on his line of work. And with his outfit? It didn't stand out enough to be recognized.

"I see." You shot him a look of suspicion and curiosity as you grabbed your iced coffee from the table to take a sip. He glances at your current work desk. His pretty eyes darted from the strewed papers everywhere and the few books and notebooks that were open on specific pages before returning to your face.

"Law school?" He gives you an inquisitive look.

"Yeah."

"Hmm. That explains your drinking habits." He remarks with a laugh.

"Oh, shut up. I needed to let off steam." You wave him off.

"And let off steam, you did." He gives you an enticing look, and you lowkey feel the heat travel to your face. You furrow your brow and bite your lip as you look away. "Aww, don't be shy now. You and I know we both enjoyed those nights."

That you cannot deny.

"What? Are you suggesting that we make this a regular thing?" You joke, trying to at least take control of a little bit of the conversation.

"Your words, not mine." He smirks. The bastard.

You narrow your eyes at him, though his smug look doesn't even melt for a second. So, you decide to play his game. "Well, third time's the charm?"

His smile becomes more expansive as he leans in, taking his phone from his pockets and sliding it across the table. "Give me your number then."

You roll your eyes playfully as you let out an exasperated sigh. You take this man's phone anyway and tap your contact info away. As soon as you were done, you handed him back his phone, fingertips grazing his large palm.

"L/N Y/N, huh?" He says, reading your name out loud. It was the first time you've ever heard your name sound so sweet upon another person's lips it was almost intoxicating. You nod silently as he starts typing away on his phone. A few moments later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You take it out to check.

From: Unknown Sender

Gojo, Satoru sent you his contact info

“Gojo?” The surname sounded very familiar but you couldn’t put a finger on it right now.

“Yep. That’s me. But please, call me Satoru. It’s finally nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You have your nose stuck in a book that Monday after your classes. A research paper was due in the next couple of weeks, and you were trying your best to focus on getting your shit done earlier than the deadline to be able to review your work. It was barely the start of the week, but you couldn't wait for the weekend for many reasons.

When you met at the cafe, you and Satoru agreed that you could meet on weekends only if both of your schedules permit. Keyword: If.

"I'm not promising anything, but I'll try. Things might get busy now and then, and I might have to work on my papers on the weekends, too." You can hear yourself say to him as you sip your coffee.

"I don't mind that. At least I can get in touch with you now, unlike before when I'm just relying on chance on when I'll meet you and where." He shrugs as he eats the second slice of the cake he ordered. Good god, what a sweet tooth.

"Hey, I'm serious." You furrow your brows at him. "I can't make this a ‘normal’ regular thing," you tell him, "so don't expect much—"

"Ah, ah. Don't even worry about it." He waves off your concern. "I wouldn't even consider giving you my number if I wasn't amenable to adjustments."

Satoru has been texting you for the past two days. Asking you about your day or what you have been up to. You have been at the back of his mind, and he's been struggling not to let it have a more physical effect on him. But to his dismay, he was more hung up than he thought.

It was the evening of Sunday after you met him when he lay awake in his bed. It could be more accurate to say that he couldn't sleep as he tossed and turned in his bed uncomfortably.

"Fuck." He huffs, covering his eyes with his arm, restless as he lays on his back. He peeks at his crotch, wincing as he sees his stiff erection. For what fucking reason was he feeling this way? He doesn't know, but thoughts of you swirled around his mind endlessly, how your hands would look so dainty, held by his big ones as his other hand travels all over your body. How your scent lingered on the bed as it did the last time you slept in a bed together, how his lips would feel against your smooth, supple skin.

This shit is not helping. Satoru thought to himself, sitting up. He reaches out for his phone on his nightstand. He stood up, pulling his pants to peek from under it. It was so bad he was leaking. An intrusive thought flits through his brain, and he smirks. He takes his phone to snap a photo before tapping a message.

To: Y/N

*You sent a photo*

Thinking of you tonight. I hope you sleep tight~ Coz I know I won't.

The moment you saw that picture, you almost dropped your phone with a squeak. Now that you're sober, you realize how massive Satoru is. No fucking wonder he got you limping that first time you slept together. The sentiment makes you take a sharp inhale of breath, putting your palms together as they start to sweat. Insufferable. But it was your type of "insufferable" not that you’d openly admit to that.

Back to the present, you try to distract yourself with your notes. A few students were littered all over the library, but overall, it was quiet. Well, other than your heavy breathing, probably. A few minutes pass, and you try to bury yourself in your papers, attempting to forget about the photo incident. Your phone buzzes a few moments later.

From: Satoru

What are you up to?

To: Satoru

School stuff. I'm at the uni library.

From: Satoru

Boring stuff?

To: Satoru

Yeah. What about you?

From: Satoru

Working. I'm in the suburbs of Tokyo. Hopefully, it doesn’t take long.

To: Satoru

Good luck.

From: Satoru

Are you sure I can't see you any time earlier this week?

You bite your lip. Heavens, you would love to see him, too, but your busy schedule said otherwise. You would kill for a break from your academics, but the deadline for your research paper is fast approaching, and you can’t afford any distractions.

To: Satoru

You know I can’t… Not right now.

You sigh as you press send. You thought that would end the conversation for now, but you were wrong.

From: Satoru

Aww, c’mon, babe. I’ll make it worth your while~

You can almost hear the lilt of Satoru’s voice through the text message, the playful tilt of his head, and the smirk plastered on those pretty lips. You try to erase the image of him before typing your reply.

To: Satoru

No.

I’ll let you know if my schedule changes.

Sent. This time, instead of pocketing your phone, you opt to put it in your bag, away from you, so that you won’t know when Satoru replies… because if the last message he sent you was any hint, you know he definitely will.

For the rest of the afternoon, you worked non-stop, only taking pauses in between to take bites of the snacks you bought. I should get some real food after this, you thought. You made some progress, much to your satisfaction; not enough to be ahead, but progress nonetheless. As the day ended, you wanted to reward yourself a little, hoping to be as motivated again for the next day. You gathered your things and started to pack your stuff when you caught a glimpse of your phone in your bag. You grab to check it, curious if Satoru replied to your last text.

From: Satoru

Oh, believe me, it will.

You don’t hear from Satoru after that last message. Not a text or call in sight. Alright then, you thought, but you didn’t dwell on it. You have more important things on your plate right now. You can take care of Satoru on the weekend. You continue to work on your papers until late evening, until your phone beeps. The blue-eyed man’s name was splashed on the screen, and the preview only showed an attachment instead of the usual text message. You furrow your brow, intrigued as you pick it up. What is he up to this time?

From: Satoru

*Satoru sent an attachment*

This is what you do to me.

The video starts dark like the camera was face down on something. There's a slight rustling in the background before the view clears. Satoru's face comes into view, flushed, and he is biting onto what looks like his shirt, exposing his upper chest. His pristine white bangs stuck to his forehead as sweat glistened on his skin. You can hear something from the background, too. Something rhythmic, something... wet. Your brows furrow as you fail to comprehend what that was until the camera turns black again for a split second before you see the same sight you saw in the photo he sent a couple days ago. Only this time, he has his fist around his cock. His movements were slow and deliberate. Hushed moans escaped his lips every once in a while. Your eyes widened, and your jaw fell slack at what this man had sent you, but at the same time, you couldn't take your eyes away from the video.

"This is what you do to me."

The statement rang in your mind, loud and clear, making you lick your lips. All of a sudden, you feel parched as hell. The video continued to play, and your eyes darted from one detail to another. How big he was, the vein that ran around his length, how slick he was as he fucked his hand. You squirm unconsciously in your seat.

"Fuck..." The curse trails off from his lips. "Maybe I shouldn't be thinking of your body too much." Satoru's voice had an audible quiver as his movements never faltered. "But hey, I'm letting nature take its course... and leave you with a little preview of what you can expect over the weekend if your schedule remains unchanged." You note a tinge of sarcasm in his tone. He's still trying to persuade you, it seems.

The silence drags on for a couple seconds before his voice returns. "I know you are as excited as I am for the weekend. You just hide it well." He lets out an arrogant laugh. "I want to feel you squirming under me. Your body, sprawled on the bed, slick and ready for me... Have I ever told you how much you fit me just right?" He continues as he teases his tip with a thumb, and you notice his legs tremble a bit from the stimulation. Oh, he's so sensitive.

" I wanted to be on top of you again. Kissing you. Biting you. Marking you as mine." He rambles on. "I can almost feel your fingers pulling at my hair, trailing down my shoulders, your nails scraping my back."

"I'd hook my thumb under your chin, tipping your head back, giving me access to that pretty neck of yours." He takes a sharp inhale, his breath hitching. "I want my tongue on your skin, tasting your sweat. God, you make me so fucking hard, baby... But I'm not in any rush. Especially since I won't taste you until the weekend, right? I gotta slow down and stroke slow." He laughs, but there is a noticeable tremble in his voice this time. "Savor every last bit since you're out here starving me." You can almost see the teasing smirk on his face.

He was true to his word, though. His strokes never stuttered. It was the same unhurried pace. Only his moans filled the air, coming and going as you excitedly eyed what he'd do or say next.

"My kisses would move lower, down your body, slowly." His voice deepening. "Down the hollow of your throat, your collarbone, then to your chest. My hands would linger over your perky breasts, fondling them, giving them what they deserve, what you deserve."

"God, what would I do to worship your body right now." He says through gritted teeth. "I'd press myself down onto you. Legs intertwining as I grind my cock against your thigh."

You notice his pace quicken before he speaks again. "I can almost feel your hands move down my body. From my chest, trailing down my hips before squeezing me at the base." He groans. "Mm, it's gonna be hard to take my time once I see you over the weekend, babe."

"Fuck, I want you. Now. I want to feel you tightening around me. Me, bucking into you as you close your eyes and your mouth falls open, moaning my name." He blabbers on. "Your nails leaving trails on my back. Your hair would be a mess. And speaking of messes," he says as he taps a finger against his tip and a string of pre-cum stuck to his fingertip as he moves it away, "I'm already making one right here, just for you."

His breathing was starting to get erratic. The way he was holding the phone was also getting more and more unsteady as it blurred with each stroke. "Maybe... maybe hold your wrists against the bed," he says, "leave you writhing as I try and find out all of your weak spots. You'd pull me against you, squeezing your legs around me."

The camera adjusts as you can almost feel how hot he must be from just watching. "And I'll, uh, I'll, uhm, I'll lean down," he starts to stutter, "slide two fingers into your mouth, tell you to suck as I kiss down your neck and grind down against you."

His pace quickens once again, his strokes getting more erratic than calculated. "We'd both be dripping wet. Push my fingers deeper, telling you to swirl your tongue around them. Fuck... Then I'll pull them out of your mouth, slick with your spit. I'd trail it down, down, down your body before ending up in between your legs. Press my wet fingers against you before pushing slow and deep, letting you ride my hand."

Another sharp breath is heard in the video. "Fuck, I'll slide down between your legs, wanting to bury my face into you. I'd slide my tongue to replace my fingers, eating you up. Oh god, I'd eat you out so good." He moans, his voice changing into a deeper pitch, sounding something closer to a whine, if you were being honest. "I can't even fucking think straight. The only thing left in my head is you. Oh fuck... Your taste. Your scent. Your tight heat. Your thighs squeezing my head. I'd want your hands on my hair, guiding me deeper into you. Oh, I’d love to use you to get off. I just want all of you… and I know you’d want all of me, too. Oh fuck... I'd— I'd let you cum with my mouth on you. Fuck... Oh, goddamn it. Oh fuck, Y/N. I need you—" His rambles were cut short as he came, ropes of cum spilling over his hand. He continues to stroke himself a little more, riding the high until the very last moment.

"Oh fucking hell..." He laughs nervously before switching to the front-facing camera with his free hand. His face was flushed, his shoulders heaving. "I can't wait for the weekend, baby. Then I'll show you how badly I've missed you in person." He snickers at the camera before taking a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing. "Fuck... I'll talk to you later. Bye, babe."

The video ends... but you feel hot all over. He came with your name on his lips. You didn't even realize how hard you were gripping your PJs. Your knuckles were white, and your breathing was uneven. God, this man's promiscuity knows no bounds, you thought as you took a deep breath before typing a reply.

To: Satoru

Meet me tomorrow.

Satoru goes about his day with renewed enthusiasm. From the perspective of his other colleagues, it was almost creepy. The Six Eye user was always known for his happy-go-lucky attitude, but they can tell there's something... different. He smiled smugly, thinking how he quickly got you with the hook, line, and sinker. Ever since he was little, it was easy to get his way; it was always that way. He may have matured over the years, but living life where you're considered an anomaly in the jujutsu world gives a person a sense of pride. The hum of the car engine was steady as he went through the city streets. It was a rare occurrence that he had to drive himself around. As much as it could be funny to let Ijichi fetch and drop you both at the hotel, he thought he'd spare the man some mercy today. Satoru only drives a little as the managers (mostly Ijichi) do that for him for missions, but today's an exception.

Lights flickered on in his vision as he passed them by. The sun was setting, and people finally heading home from school or work littered the streets as he leisurely tapped a finger on the steering wheel to the beat of a nameless song playing over the speakers. He wore his usual work clothes, the same old zip-up long sleeves, but he ditched the blindfold for the more normal round sunglasses. As much as he wanted to change into comfier clothes, he didn't have enough time. Doesn't matter. It's not like the clothes will stay for that long anyway , he thought with a smirk as he pulled up on the street of your university. He parks near the entrance and gets out of the car. He leans against it, takes out his phone, and taps you a message.

To: Y/N

I'm here by the entrance.

People who passed him spoke in hushed whispers, curious about who this stunning man was waiting for, but he paid them no mind. Nobody came close compared to you... Well, right now, anyway. Anticipation bubbled in his stomach, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on you. Oh, the things he'd do to you tonight. He pockets his phone back, closes his eyes, and lets the early evening breeze ruffle his hair.

"I'm sorry I'm late—" A familiar voice approached him, and his eyes immediately snapped toward the sound. You looked like you just ran a marathon to get to him. "Class dragged on and—?!"

Satoru hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close, kissing you without warning. Your eyes widen as you try to push him away, but that only encourages him, and he deepens the kiss, holding your face steady as he does so. A moment later, you both come up for air. You could feel your warm cheeks, and you felt like your mind was melting.

"Satoru..." You say his name, breathless. "Not here." You scold him, but really, it was a half-hearted effort. He says nothing but lets you go just enough to open the car door for you, hand still lingering on your hip.

"After you," he gestures, and you bite your lip before getting in. He follows suit shortly after, going around and getting in the driver's seat. Not even a moment later, he leans in, his large hands cup your cheek again, and leans in for another kiss. A kiss that could easily have you jumping over to his lap—

"Satoru," you call his name when he lets you go, "we can do it here, but decorum says we shouldn't. " You tell him before he sighs in surrender.

"Fine." He rolls his eyes playfully. Not today… but maybe someday. He smirks at the thought as he starts the car. He keeps a hand on your thighs throughout the drive. His fingers caressed you in ways that had your imagination running wild. At some point, you had to hold his hand in both of yours just to keep your desires (and sanity) in check.

You both make it to one of the luxury hotels downtown. You are in disbelief. Every instance you slept with this man, he has taken you to different fancy hotels. Mind you, the other two occasions were spontaneous decisions, further proving that he either has a high-paying job or he's from a very wealthy family. In conclusion, he's rich as fuck. He stops by the hotel entrance, gets out of the car, and goes around to open the door for you. As you both enter the hotel lobby, he lets the valet take care of the car. The room was spacious; lounges were scattered along the hall's walls, and a few people with fancy outfits walked past occasionally. You felt out of place with your casual clothes, but at least you weren't the only one. Satoru kept his arm around your hip, making you struggle to keep up with his long strides. He pulls you close, breath caressing your ears, "I sure hope you're not having second thoughts." He teased before giving your ear a nibble as you approached the front desk. You let out a hushed gasp as you try to push him away, but the effort only makes him chuckle. Your eyes dart around. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to you other than the clerk squinting at you judgingly, making your cheeks flush.

"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?" She mutters monotonously. She eyes you from head to toe. What's her problem?

"Ah, yes." Satoru chimes in a little too enthusiastically. "It's under my name. Gojo Satoru."

For the next few seconds, the woman taps away at her keyboard. "The penthouse suite, correct?"

"Yep. Nothing but the best." He smiles before hooking a finger under your chin, making you look at him before his lips meet yours. Your hands clutch at his clothes instinctively. You hear the front desk clerk sigh disapprovingly as if saying, "Get a room," or, in this case, "Wait for your room."

Satoru doesn't seem to notice or care for the matter. He smiles at her cluelessly after kissing you as you both wait to be checked in. He was handed the keycard shortly after before he started guiding you towards the elevator.

Two things happened as the doors closed. One, the tall man corners you at the far end of the elevator. Two, his leg slipped between yours as he cupped your face, crashing his lips against you again, this time more passionately. More hungrily. His large hands fiddled around the edges of your blouse, fingers slipping underneath, making you shudder. His carefree demeanor suddenly disappeared into thin air, catching you off guard. Your mind clouded as his tongue found yours, and you couldn't help the soft whimper that escaped your lips. He unexpectedly breaks the kiss, and you suddenly find yourself stumbling towards him, trying to chase after his lips. He smirks, waving an admonishing finger toward you.

"Greedy."

"Me?" You look at him, confused. "You were the one that couldn't wait." You shot back as the elevator dings.

He only gives you the same signature smirk before dragging you out of the elevator towards your suite. He taps the keycard on the door, and as soon as it clicks open, he pulls you inside. The door slams shut from the outside world. It's only you and him now, no more, no less. The thought alone makes him let go of his other inhibitions. He backs you to the doorframe, caging you in with his arms. He stares at you, eyes hungry with want, making you look away, feeling a tad too self-conscious.

"Don't look away." He tells you. He cups your cheek, making you look up at the tall man. Your breath hitches at your throat as he kisses you again. Whimpers escape your small frame as his other hand continues its interrupted tour under your top. He only releases your lips as he slowly peels your blouse off, exposing you to the room's cool air. He devours all your sounds, tongues intertwining as your hands slowly and instinctively find the back of his neck, trying to further deepen the kiss. After a fleeting moment, his other hand moves to your back, unhooking your bra easily. Your hand moves to his zip-up jacket in return, unzipping the thing impatiently and slipping it off him. His smooth immaculate skin shouldn't have been a surprise, but damn, his chiseled abs, lean muscular arms; his body is a work of art. Your mouth waters at the sight, but he doesn't give you any time to process that information further as he grabs you by the wrist and turns you around. You brace yourself with the palms of your hands and bend down just a little without even thinking, grinding against him.

He pauses, making you look hurriedly at the man behind you. "I'm so glad I'm not the only one feeling impatient." He remarks before you feel his hand fiddle around the button of your pants. His skillful fingers only take a second before he's unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. He slowly slides it down your legs, and you step out of it when it lands on the floor. Kisses snake up your legs and thighs before he spreads your folds with his thumbs. You feel his hot breath against your cunt, watching as it starts dripping . He barely did anything to you, yet you are already a mess. He gives it a kiss. Then, a lap of a tongue. You gasp at the sudden motion, and he grins. He's tempted to eat you out, but there will be other chances. For now, he needs you. He needs to be inside you. He slowly stood, trailing kisses along your lower back and shoulders before ending at the back of your ear. With the way he leaned against you, his erection was grinding at you deliciously, promising the pleasure that was about to come. He teases your clit with two fingers, making you arch your back at his movements.

"Fuck, baby. You sound even prettier than I imagined," he whispers. "All those pretty moans, all for me. Did you moan like this when I sent you that video earlier this week?" He asks as his free hand, the one caging you by the doorway, moves as you hear the rustle of his pants as he tries to undo them. Satoru's cock springs free, and he wraps a hand around his base, starting to stroke himself. God, he can't wait to be inside you.

"S-Satoru." Your voice quivers as he rubs you relentlessly. "Fuck... Mmm, so good..!"

And that's what pushes him over. Hearing his name come out of your delicate mouth. He lets out a sharp breath, almost a hiss, as he pulls his fingers away. "Fucking hell." He curses as he hastily aligns his cock against your entrance. "You ready for me, babe?" He asks as he rubs the tip against your leaking cunt. "Heh, I think your pussy can answer for you, huh?"

His movements were electrifying, making your skin prickle with anticipation. "Sa-Satoru~," you whine, "stop... stop teasing..!"

"Tell me what you want then." His voice is condescending. His tip barely slipped inside you, making you feel even more deprived. "Tell me how much you want me, need me ."

"Fuck, Satoru..! I need you. I need you inside me. Please..!" The whines that escaped your lips were almost automatic. He smirks, realizing how much he has you wrapped around his finger.

"Hm? You gotta be more specific, baby." He taunts, rubbing his length between your thighs, making you dig your teeth into your bottom lip. "Tell me what you want."

The sounds of your mewls mingled with the sloppy sounds between your legs made your head spin. "Fuck, baby, please. I need... I need your cock. I need it— Ah!" Not even a moment later, he pushed into you, gripping your hips so hard you think it'll bruise. Your face contorts in pleasure at the sudden penetration. He takes it so achingly slow, your mind blanks and you can't even discern whether or not you want him to go further into you. You may have been drunk the first two times you've fucked, but you remember this feeling of fullness. The photo and the video were proof of that, too. But now that you're sober, your brain is short-circuiting at how big he is. He reached places you couldn't with your hands or toys, making your toes curl.

"You like that, babe?" He taunts you, pulling back a little, then pushing back in. Giving you something, but you need more. You dig your teeth into your lower lip, suppressing your whines. When he is met with silence, he pulls back all the way back before slamming back into you. The gasp you let out sounded so sinful it went straight to his dick. He groans at the way you are already clenching around him. "You can keep quiet all you want, but this pussy can't lie. Not to me." He remarks before he slowly starts to move. He wouldn't have moved until you've begun formulating words again, but fuck was he impatient. He couldn't wait a week, for fuck's sake, and he'd be damned if he were made to stay still for a minute longer. He kept a steady pace, hitting all your spots. Heat starts to pool in your stomach fast as he slowly but surely amps up the pace. Your knees feel like jello. You would have buckled a long time ago if it weren't for his hands on your hips, pulling you in and out onto him.

"F-Fuck! Sa-Satoru..! Too much!" You cry out in pleasure as he lets out a breathy chuckle from behind you.

"Aww, don't say that. I've barely started with you." He says as he starts to slam into you deeper. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and you could guess that anyone passing by the door would be able to hear your cries. "I know you can take it. So take it like the good girl you are."

A broken moan escapes your lips. Your skin prickles as you feel yourself tethered over the precipice of pleasure. Although Satoru wanted to stay in control , he couldn't help his needy groans echoing in the room. God, he felt so desperate. It's like he hadn't had anything like you before, and it's addicting. He leans on you, lips latching onto the back of your neck, sucking, kissing, biting, marking you as his.

"You take me so well," he whispers against your skin. The closeness makes you reach an arm to the back of his head, trying to pull him into you. He whispered words of praise as he planted fleeting kisses upon your forehead. With each moan that escaped your pretty lips, his resolve to make this last longer, crumbles. His movements started getting erratic. His fingers dug into your skin as you tangled your fingers in his hair with each thrust. Your body felt so warm. Your legs started to tremble as you uncontrollably clenched around him tighter.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna cum—" His words were cut short as he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your cries and groans. "Cum with me, baby. Fuck, cum with my cock inside you..!" He demands. Your body responds to him not a second later. The waves of pleasure that washed over you as he emptied himself inside you sent you to your ecstasy. Hiccups wrecked your body as it trembled, and he rode every last second of it. You let out a whine of complaint from the sensitivity, but he pressed soft kisses on your temple while murmuring words about how good you were. He lets you catch your breath before pulling out of you. You let out a groan of complaint at the sudden emptiness, but he makes up for it when he carries you bridal-style in his arms. You lean into him as you open your eyes to see this man, eyes drooping.

"Hey, don't tell me you're already tired?" He smirks at you. "The night is young. And I'm sure as hell not done with you yet."

A couple more weeks passed after your last encounter, and despite your initial agreement with Satoru, there were times (multiple times, by the way) that this rule was disregarded. Every time, you told him it would be the last time. It was broken every time, and you always found ways to justify it. You needed a break from your studies. You wanted to see him. Being with him just felt that good. You couldn't help yourself. And so did Satoru. He found himself craving your presence, your touch, your kisses. He found that his thoughts seemed to wander to you even when he was at work. His smug smiles were proof of that, not that Ijichi appreciated seeing that. It gave the man the shudders.

As you submitted the last of your papers, you left the campus feeling lighter as all your headaches now seemed to float away. It was almost the weekend, and it was finally time to unwind. You take your phone out and start tapping away.

To: Satoru

How's work going?

Not a minute later, your phone buzzes.

From: Satoru

Boring... And you? Done with school?

Now that you think about it, he has yet to tell you about his work. To be fair, after your drunk questions, you have yet to bring it up again. Not that you have any reason to. He hasn't done anything that would raise your suspicion.

To: Satoru

Are you just slacking again?

You snicker as you send the message. You've heard Satoru complain about his job sometimes. Something about the elders? His superiors maybe? He tends to grumble about how they're such a pain in the ass.

From Satoru:

Hey! I wasn't slacking! <;(๑`^´๑)>

Not today, anyway.

You suppress a laugh bubbling from your throat.

To: Satoru

Alright, alright, don't pout. Are you still at work?

From: Satoru

Nah. I just finished, actually. Wait for me by the entrance. Let's go out and eat! There's a cafe I'd like to try out!

You can literally hear the elation from his text message. His sweet tooth knows no limits, so it seems. Well, at least it gets you free coffee, which works well for you.

To: Satoru

Okay. See you there... then my place tonight?

Your face heats up as you bite your lip in anticipation. You suggested that you take turns visiting each other's houses for the past couple of weeks instead of meeting up in hotels. As much as you've proven that this man is filthy rich, you didn't want him spending such unnecessary money over impromptu overnights at luxury hotels.

From: Satoru

Sure, babe ;)

Comments from my beta reader/co-creator while checking the draft:

I know I wrote the timeline but you didn't have to do it

I don't wanna read this fic anymore

I'm gonna highlight all of the things I hate in this fic *highlights the whole document* /jk

I don't want to involve myself in the demon shit that this is *skims a paragraph*

He is wearing his ugly ass onesie

I know what I said but don't @ me

Stay tuned for Chapter 2! uwu

Lemme know if you want me to make a taglist for this!

122 notes · View notes

bunnknightnight · 8 months

Text

Stargazer Lilies

Clerith(Cloud x Aerith) One-Shot

WARNING: Suicidal topics, blood, mentions of death, and major spoilers for the original FFVII, however there are no sexual themes.

NOTE: This is a canon-divergent fanfiction, meaning it uses elements from the canon of FFVII but does not follow the canon in its entirety.

Words: 5882

Date Published: 2023-08-25

Summary:

After Sephiroth kills Aerith, Cloud is so distraught that he tries to kill himself later that night, but is unsuccessful. Barrett and Tifa manage to get him to a hospital to recover, but Cloud remains in a comatose state. While he is unconscious, Cloud is teetering so close to the lifestream that he is able to meet Aerith once again.

Life Goes On

“Aerith is gone.” “Aerith will no longer talk, no longer laugh, cry……or get angry……” “What about my pain?” “My fingers are tingling. My mouth is dry. My eyes are burning!”

——————————

Cloud lay wide awake that night, the image of Aerith’s bloodied corpse burned into the backs of his eyeballs. No matter where he looked, nor whether he kept his eyes open or chose to shut them, she was there, floating ethereally in his vision like a goddess. Her soft pink dress was damp with blood and water, her hair was without the signature pink bow she always wore, allowing it to flow freely in the water beneath her, and her eyes were eternally closed, yet despite all of that, she remained ever beautiful even in her last moments. Oh, how he missed looking into her bright verdant eyes already. Not even the healthiest of plants could compare to the richness of her gorgeous eyes.

She was the light of his life. Even when he handed the black materia over to Sephiroth, she didn’t blame him. Even when he threw her to the ground in a fit of rage over his accidental betrayal, she didn’t fight back. She always put others first– always made sure to show Cloud that he mattered, and not just to his friends, but to her. Aerith was always so kind, so gentle…so heavenly. She was not only enchanting in her looks, but in her personality too. She was so full of compassion and pure love; not just towards humans, but toward animals and the planet alike. He never met anyone like her, and he knew he would never meet anyone like her again. The time he may have known her was short, but she meant everything to him. Aerith was gone…and he felt like he was nothing without her.

Cloud sat up in his bed, clutching his temple as his brain began to pound against the back of his eyes. With it came the loud buzzing of an intruder, and his vision became filled with static.

“You…are a puppet.”

Cloud grunted, a bead of sweat dribbling down his hot neck under the cover of his blonde hair as Sephiroth’s words rang in his ears. That was right…he was a puppet– Sephiroth’s puppet. That was all he was, and nothing more. Cloud thought he was traveling the world to save it, but he was following the call of his master all along. If he was anything more than a puppet, he wouldn’t have given Sephiroth the black materia. If he was anything more, Aerith wouldn’t have died.

His head was throbbing so violently that it was unbearable! In a fit of confusion and rage, Cloud threw his legs off of the bed and groaned as he jumped to his feet and lunged for the buster sword. Sephiroth may have been the master of his body, but he refused to let him be the master of his mind. He remembered the way Sephiroth tried to force him to kill Aerith before Sephiroth himself stepped in to finish her off when he realized Cloud wasn’t going to. All this time he had been trying so hard to protect her from Sephiroth, but he never once considered that he was to blame for her demise. It was all his fault, and he needed to put an end to this. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he hurt Barret or Tifa, let alone anyone else he held dearly.

He would finish this once and for all.

“Cloud?!” Tifa exclaimed, her red eyes wide with shock as she jolted awake. She was taken aback and unsure of what to do, she shook Barret awake. Then, she turned back to him, shouting his name once more as Barret chimed in. He didn’t seem to hear either of them.

“I refuse..to be a pawn in your game any longer, Sephiroth!!”

Cloud shouted as he raised the buster sword above his head, only to bring it down, burying its tip deep into his gut. He choked, blood squirting out of his throat with a sharp inhale. He took a step back, stumbling into his bed as he plunged the sword deeper with the intent of ripping his organs out. The buzzing in his ears faded, but everything else did too. He couldn’t hear his friends when they came running to his side, but he could see the way they scrambled to save him. While Tifa fell to his side and held him to her chest, Barret ripped the buster sword’s handle away from his trembling hands and took it into his own so that Cloud could do no more damage. He couldn’t tell what they were saying, but he could feel the way Tifa violently quivered as he lay there bleeding.

“Aerith’s death…is all because of me,” Cloud choked, only for Tifa to lay a finger over his lips in an attempt to quiet him, but he continued, “Sephiroth– I am only..his puppet… but…not anymore.” He could feel the way the two lifted his weakening body off of the bed, but that was the extent of what he could remember before his world consciousness faded and his world evanesced.

——————————

“Cloud…”

“Clouuud~!”

“Are you alright?” A familiar female voice called out. Despite sounding concerned, it was ever gentle. It was sweet like honey, and it was smooth like silk. The voice made Cloud feel so safe, as if he was being hugged by his mother once again. He didn’t think he had the strength to pull himself out of the depths of the loving embrace it had around his heart.

“Oh, don’t tell me you died already! That would be silly.” The voice playfully endearingly taunted, “The Cloud I know is stronger than that.”

Ethereal light filtered into his vision as Cloud’s eyes fluttered open, momentarily blinding him and forcing his eyes shut once more. He squinted, only able to open his eyes fully as he felt a shadow come over the bright light. The calming smell of flowers overwhelmed his senses, and a wave of nostalgia sent a flood of shivers down his spine at the scent. Ever since he had met Aerith that fateful day in Midgar, the smell of flowers had always brought a sort of otherworldly tranquility to him that he had never known before. The smell was beautiful, just like her.

Cloud sat up, holding his head in his hands as he attempted to clear his mind and make sense of the situation. With a gasp, Cloud’s body jerked backward at the sight that lay before him as his focusing vision revealed the face of Aerith– the lovely flower girl he watched die mere hours earlier.

“Aerith,” Cloud stammered, sweat rolling down the side of his forehead as a shameful blush overtook his cheeks, “I–”

“Shh, I know,” Aerith softly reassured him as she offered him a smile and gently pressed her finger to his lips, “It’s okay.”

‘But you–’ was all he could muster before Aerith wrapped her arms around him, burying his reddening face in the crook of her neck. She held him so close to her that she could feel the way he trembled with every breath and the way he sweated as heat radiated off of his body, even as she closed her eyes. She could tell that he regretted ever hurting her or ever trying to hurt her, though she never bore a grudge against him, as she knew it wasn’t his fault. The Cloud she knew was anxious and closed off, but deep down she knew he cared for others. She knew he was a kind soul and she loved him for it. She cherished their time together from the bottom of her heart– she only wished it hadn’t been so short.

“It’s okay.” She repeated, her tone quiet and tender, “You don’t need to say anything…”

Aerith always knew what to say. Aerith always knew what to do. Cloud loved her more than anything on Gaia and in life itself. Losing her meant that he lost his entire world, and he didn’t know how to live on. It had only been mere hours, but he missed her more than she would ever know. He couldn’t help it when he began to stagger his breaths as a flood of tears came crashing down, and his entire body grew hot with sorrow. For minutes on end, the two of them sat in verbal silence, but that didn’t matter; there were no words powerful enough to describe the relief Cloud felt at being able to see her again. Being able to be held in her arms was enough.

“Aerith…” Cloud eventually pulled away to look into her eyes, his own still glossy and red from crying, as he sniffled, “I…I’m sorry. If I hadn’t given Sephiroth the black materia, you would–”

“What did I say?” Aerith cut him off, a playful tone returning to her otherwise soft words to lighten the mood, “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

Cloud drew a deep, shaky breath, stunned into silence at her words. How could she not blame him after everything he had done? He was nothing but Sephiroth’s puppet, and his inability to fight back against Sephiroth was what cost her his life. If he hadn’t given Sephiroth the black materia, and if he had been able to control his body when he needed to protect her most, she would still be alive. It was all his damn fault, and he knew it. How could she–

“I know what you’re thinking,” Aerith drew him out of his thoughts, “And no matter what you say or do, there’s nothing you can do to convince me that any of this is your fault.” Aerith rolled backward onto her shins, and she traced her hands down Cloud’s arms where they landed on his knuckles. Her gaze shifted downward, fixated on their hands as she flipped them over and curled their fingers together. “That wasn’t you, and that never was you. The Cloud I know is strong, kind, handsome…and most of all, he cares for his friends. He would never do anything to hurt the people he loves... I saw the way you struggled every time he tried to steal your mind away, and I know that you tried your hardest to fight back against him…and that’s all that matters to me.”

Silence ensued once more, but not from lack of knowing what to say. Rather, Cloud was taken aback by her intuition and how she knew that Sephiroth had been trying to control him throughout their journey, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her why. There wasn’t anything that could get past her it seemed, and that was yet another part of her that he loved. She was wise, just like the Cetra that came before her were said to be. Everything about Aerith was brilliant, and the more he learned about her, the more she blew him away. Why did the world have to take the good ones away? Life was so cruel.

“You don’t deserve this.” Cloud began after moments of contemplation. His voice was much more stable as his tears began to wash away, but his eyes remained set on the way she so tenderly intertwined their fingers. Her hands were small and delicate compared to his, but he knew she was stronger than he would ever be, and that was what gave him the strength to calm himself for the time being. If she could hold herself together, he would too, for her sake. “And if you don’t blame me for your death, then there’s nothing I can do to convince you. You’re too stubborn.”

“Oh yeah? And what does that make you?” Aerith teased, giggling. The way she was able to make light of any situation without making it any less significant was something only an angel directly descended from the heavens could do. “If I’m the stubborn one, then…I guess you must be some immovable wall. Not even the strongest of my waves can force you to come tumbling down, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to– sorry.” Cloud blushed, looking away from their hands and at the church. Just like when he met her for the second time back in the slums, they seemed to be seated in Aerith’s flowerbed, which was filled with stargazer lilies. “Forget I said anything.” Cloud pulled their hands away as he stood up to get a better view of their surroundings.

Aerith sat there for a moment longer, still staring down at their hands before she lifted her gaze, then finally pulled herself off of the ground and dusted herself off. “I bet you’re curious, huh?”

“...Yeah.” Cloud nodded, wiping his tears away before he continued to look around the place. He took a few steps forward, careful to navigate his way out of her flowerbed. “This looks just like the church I met you in– the church in the slums. How’s that?”

“You came crashing through my ceiling again…though I always have boys crashing down from the heavens and onto my flowerbed, it seems.” She chuckled, “But it’s okay. Like I said before, my flowers are strong. They can take it.”

“I’ll try not to do it anymore.” Cloud apologized in a joking manner that betrayed his static tone of voice as he continued to slowly walk around the church. It was strange to him– this place looked and felt real but there was no wind, and the further he looked through the windows of the church, he noticed it became unnaturally blurry. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see past a certain barrier.

“Well, I’d hope you’re not doing it on purpose. That would just be mean.” Aerith teased. She always loved doing that.

The two were silent for a few minutes, but it was never tense. Aerith slowly walked over to Cloud, following him around with her hands behind her back as he investigated the place. He was quick to notice the way the buildings remained just as blurry the closer he got to them as they had been from far away, even with how close he was to the exit of the church, and he realized how white the sky beyond those far-off buildings was, too.

“Am I dead?” Finally came the question out of Cloud’s lips.

“Hmm..”

Cloud looked over his shoulder before fully turning to face Aerith, an expecting look in his eyes.

“Not quite.” Aerith finally answered after moments of leaving Cloud on edge, though she hadn’t done so to spook him. “The lifestream is my home now, but as for you...I think you’re just visiting.”

“How so?” Cloud asked, slightly raising a brow.

“Well,” Aerith started, her eyes softening with worry once more, “I can still hear Tifa and Barret calling out to you. Can you hear them?”

Cloud took a moment, trying his best to listen to no avail. He shook his head.

“You’re in the hospital, I think. I can hear the slow beeping of a heart monitor.”

“So why can’t I hear it?” Cloud asked, still trying to hear what Aerith was hearing.

“Dunno.” She shrugged, “Maybe you’re choosing not to hear it?”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well…I saw the way you brought yourself here. I’ve been watching you since I died, y’know. I saw the way you shouted something, then…” she trailed off, frowning.

“I…” Cloud fell silent, ashamed of himself. While he still wanted to die if it meant saving his friends from him ever losing control again, he was thoroughly ashamed to admit the fact that he attempted to kill himself to Aerith… “I heard him again. Sephiroth, he..he was trying to take over again. I didn’t know what he wanted at that time, but...I wasn’t going to let him hurt the only people I had left.”

“Is that all there is to it?” Aerith asked, still frowning. She wasn’t upset at him, but she hated to see him so broken up the way he was. Besides, she knew Cloud– the way he didn’t like to admit to everything, even if it was just to himself.

Cloud was confused by that question. What else would there be to it? He didn’t want to hurt his friends, and if it meant killing himself so Sephiroth couldn’t control him any longer, then so be it. It wasn’t like he was anything more than a puppet, anyway– and he refused to bend to Sephiroth’s will.

——————————

The soft glow of moonlight filtered into the otherwise dim room that had only been lit up by the soft light of a heart monitor moments prior. There was a gentle breeze from a nearby window that had been cracked open, but not even the cool touch of the wind could provide solace to the room’s current inhabitants. After Cloud had stabbed himself in the gut it seemed like there would be no saving him, but by the speedy actions of Barret and Tifa as they brought Cloud’s body to The Highwind, Cid was able to quickly pilot them to a nearby hospital. Typically, with a wound that big and with that much blood loss, a normal person would have been dead by the time it took them to make it to The Highwind, but perhaps due to the mako that flowed through Cloud’s veins, he was able to make it just long enough to be hooked up to a heart monitor and have his wounds patched up.

Barrett and Tifa now sat close to one another in the dimly lit room. While Barrett was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his inner thighs, Tifa sat with her face buried against his firm arm, hiding the side of her face with her curled-up hand. Their tears had long since dried, but they were still deathly worried about the state of their friend. Even with all that he had done, they couldn’t bring themselves to blame Cloud either– they cared for him immensely and wished they knew what had driven him to this point. Was it because he blamed himself for Aerith’s death? They both remembered the bone-chilling terror they felt when they watched him stab the buster sword into his abdomen and the way he shouted something about not allowing Sephiroth to control him any longer as he did so, but they both questioned the validity of their memories with how distraught the two of them were.

“Wake up, dammit…” Barret mumbled as his hand curled up into a tight ball, causing the palms of his hands to brighten from the pressure. His eyes had been staring so deeply into Cloud as if he believed staring at him long enough would force the boy awake, but he knew that wasn’t the way things worked. Defeated, Barret hung his head and whispered, “We can’t afford to lose you too.”

——————————

Cloud now sat outside of the church, one knee curled to his chest with the corresponding forearm upon its peak while the other leg lay extended on the ground. He still couldn’t quite grasp what Aerith meant by her question, however, he was more glad to see Aerith than anything, so it was she who truly occupied his mind. He had been looking straight ahead at the whiteness of the sky, and its pure color reminded him just how clear and kindhearted Aerith was. He looked up at her, and upon catching his gaze in her peripherals, Aerith stopped what he was doing and smiled at him. “You bored yet? There’s not much to do here if I’m honest…” She sighed, although her smile remained as her eyes dropped back to the floor.

“I don’t mind. It’s nice here.” Cloud admitted, his eyes returning to the horizon, “There’s no war, no violence, no anger, no despair…just you and me.”

“And there are certainly no other people here!” Aerith chuckled, “But you like that, don’t you? I never took you as a people’s person.”

Cloud smiled abruptly, “Yeah…never was a fan of ‘em.”

“It doesn’t bother you that you’ll never see another person besides me again?” Aerith inquired, looking back at Cloud, though he did not return her gaze.

He simply shook his head, “No, not really.”

“And what about Tifa? What about Barret? Or Yuffie, Red XIII…or the rest of your friends?”

“I can make an exception for them.” Cloud joked, “Though..I would rather they not end up here. Since we’re dead n’all.”

"They're worried sick about you, Cloud." Aerith frowned, "I heard Barret calling out to you earlier, and the way Tifa was shouting at you when they brought you in– before you even woke up here. They miss you, Cloud. Does that really not bother you?"

Cloud frowned, his gaze hardening as he lowered it to the ground, almost as if he was shameful. He was silent for a moment, but then he sighed, "Let them be worried. As long as I'm not there to hurt them, they'll be okay. They just..have to be strong and get through this. This is the first time I've had an entirely clear head in years, Aerith. I can't feel Sephiroth in my veins here. I can't hurt you or anyone else anymore. It's better this way." He raised his head yet again, though he continued staring off at the sky rather than looking her way, "Trust me."

"I can't believe you." Aerith squatted, making herself eye-level with Cloud, practically commanding his gaze her way, and finally, she got it in return. "You're telling me you're gonna let them fight Sephiroth alone? You're just gonna give up and take the easy way out?"

Cloud was at a loss for words. She was scolding him like she was his mother and yet he couldn't find it in himself to dismiss what she said. He did feel horrible for leaving them behind, and he felt even worse for it once he looked into Aerith's disappointed eyes, but he steeled himself. "It's better this way, Aerith," he hated being at odds with her but he stood his ground, "At least like this, they won't have to worry about fighting me and Sephiroth at the same time. Instead, they can just focus on taking him down."

"And what makes you think they're going to have to fight you?" Aerith asked, "You're their friend– not their enemy. They love you, and I know you love them. They need you, Cloud. They can't face him alone."

Cloud was silent once more before he let out a sigh, "You know the way he's able to take control of me. If I go to fight Sephiroth, they'll end up–"

"Don't even finish that sentence." Aerith lowered herself onto her knees and scooted closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she searched his eyes for understanding, "I know you. Sephiroth..he tried to make you hurt me, didn't he? But you fought against him. You didn't let it happen. I know you're strong enough to fight back when it really comes down to it."

"I…maybe…" Cloud's eyebrows furrowed, and unable to stand the weight of his guilt, he looked away. He shook his head, "I can't go back."

"Cloud…" She called with a voice so soft it could be mistaken for a whisper. She tilted her head as she reached out for Cloud's cheek, cupping it into her hands. She gently directed his gaze toward her as she placed her other hand on the opposite cheek and she offered him a sorry smile, "It's okay to want to stay here…but I can't let you."

"Why?" Cloud asked, his voice quiet as well, "It's safer this way. If I stay here by your side, I can't hurt them."

"Because, Cloud…I need you to be honest with yourself. Is that really all there is to it?"

There came the question again. What more was she referring to? Cloud closed his eyes for a moment, redirecting his thoughts as he desperately dug through them for an answer. Aerith had always been such a wise lady– she wasn't the type to be persistent just because she could. Even in her times of silliness, her actions always had meaning; they always had intelligence behind them. Aerith was brilliant. Not only was she smart, but she understood people. Aerith understood the parts of Cloud that he did not, and she drew them out. He knew that there was something he wasn't getting, and he realized there was something Aerith thought he could only understand if she was able to make him see it for himself.

"Think, Cloud." She tilted her head forward and brought his closer in turn, allowing their foreheads to press against one another as both of their eyes closed. The green, white, and blue light of the lifestream enveloped the area upon the shared contact of their foreheads, shifting their surroundings to match that of Aerith's home in the sector 5 slums down on Gaia, "Think."

Cloud could feel as reality shifted under his feet. He could feel the way his body now sat in a field of flowers atop an incline, and although the wind remained stagnant, he could feel how pure the air was against his skin. As Aerith slipped her head and hands away, his eyes fluttered open, allowing him to take in the beauty of her garden for what it was. He was met with Aerith now sitting on her shins once more, her hands overlapping one another as they lay in her lap, and a loving smile on her face. He couldn't help it when his cheeks grew rosy from the sight of that tender smile and the way she looked upon him with nothing but pure admiration in her eyes. Aerith was gorgeous, and these flower fields only amplified her charm.

"Oh Cloud," she giggled without saying another word. She recognized the way he looked at her– the way he blushed –and even without him having to say anything, she knew what he was thinking. Cloud was too innocent to have dirty thoughts, she knew, so it was clear to her that his look was one of wonder and love for her. Cloud was so precious, and that was exactly why she needed to make him see what he was missing for himself. She always found teaching through actions rather than telling through words to be a more effective lesson.

"Sorry." Cloud hadn’t quite realized how long he had been staring at Aerith and it embarrassed him to think about it, so he promptly peeled his eyes away and chose to take in the scenery. Just like their previous landscape, the further away he looked from their current location, it got unnaturally blurry, and the sky remained as white as ever. “So why did you bring me here?”

“Just thought a change of scenery would be nice.” Aerith smiled for a moment before she looked in the direction Cloud had been. The two of them now looked at the house Aerith used to share with Elmyra, and she could feel an air of sorrow come about the longer they dwelled on it.

“She was always so kind to me… Even when I didn’t deserve it.” Aerith started, her words tender. “Take care of her for me, won’t you?”

“I’m sure they will.”

“Not them– you, silly.” Aerith turned to Cloud, nudging his shoulder with her hand, “Like I said...I’m not letting you die yet.”

“How’s that?” Cloud challenged, “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t want to go back.”

“Because…” Aerith hummed, “I know what you’ve told yourself, why you’re here, and…it’s all a lie.”

Cloud grunted in confusion as his baby blues trailed over to look at Aerith, though it was now her who wouldn’t return his gaze. As she continued to stare off at the house she grew up in, he saw her eyebrows furrowed in worry. Cloud wasn’t sure what to say to that. After all, how could he be lying? He killed himself, or at least tried to, because he didn’t want to be Sephiroth’s puppet. He didn’t want to hurt his friends anymore. Aerith may not have blamed him for her death, but he thoroughly believed it was his fault. Just what part of that was a lie?

Cloud took a moment to dig deep into the meaning of her words. Was he not being honest with himself as she said? Tifa always told him that he tended to be stubborn, so perhaps that stubbornness was at play here. “I’m lost.” He admitted, lowering his head. She, however, didn’t say anything in return, leaving him to sink further into his thoughts. As he hung his head, Cloud slowly closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the earth. He could feel the way the dirt brushed against the cloth of his pants, and he could smell the sweet yet subtle scent of tranquility the flowers around them gave off. That smell always made him think of Aerith…perhaps that was why he felt so happy here. Perhaps that was why he didn’t want to go back. The real word was so uncertain and frightening that he didn’t want to return, but then…wouldn’t that make him a coward? Was it truly so bad that he didn’t want to return to a reality as cruel as Gaia– the very same reality that so coldly ripped Aerith away from him?

Perhaps…he just didn’t want to leave Aerith.

His lungs expanded as he drew a long, deep breath, and then Cloud returned to utter silence once more. He realized that although it felt nice to breathe, he didn’t need to. He couldn’t even hear Aerith breathing. Was it because they were dead? It was chilling to think that their bodies no longer required oxygen to sustain themselves, though it wasn’t something Cloud truly found horrifying. The thought of being a part of the lifestream should have been haunting, but Cloud felt so safe here. For once in his life, he felt happy. Just being here with Aerith was enough for him. He loved her.

Cloud gasped, his eyes shooting open as they flickered over to Aerith. He pined for her eyes to meet his, but she continued to stare off at the horizon. Although she wouldn’t meet his eyes, he could feel that there was a different air about them, and he could see that there was pain in her otherwise strong eyes.

He blinked. Suddenly, the sky was no longer pure white, but a cool amethyst gradient that faded into a golden glow, as if the sun were now setting. Although there hadn’t been any wind here thus far, a gentle breeze began to pick up that ruffled her chocolate locks and made her look more like a goddess than ever before. However, she still didn’t return his gaze.

“Aerith, I…” Cloud began, his eyes twinkling under the setting sun, “I love you.”

Aerith tilted her head aside, reaching her delicate hands to the rose-colored bow that held her hair up. Her fingers searched for the inner sanctum of her ribbon, only for her to pull it loose, allowing a mahogany ocean of hair to come crashing down.

“I know.” Was all she said as she looked down at the ribbon she now held. Cloud couldn’t see her eyes past her hair, but he didn’t need to. He could feel the bittersweet relief radiating off of her as she sat in complete silence, and in that moment he caught himself wondering just what was going on inside her head. His heart was pounding in his ears and he could feel himself begin to tremble ever so slightly as his skin grew clammy. The palms of his hands were sweaty against the leather fabric of his gloves, but he couldn’t pry his eyes off of the beauty that was Aerith.

“That’s why I can’t let you stay here.” Aerith slowly raised her head, finally returning Cloud’s long-awaited gaze. There were wet streaks on both of her cheeks and the ribbon she held had damp, darkened spots from her tears. She let out a small chuckle that crackled with pain and joy as she scooted closer to Cloud, keeping the ribbon in hand. She now sat knee to knee with him, their eyes forever interlocked in a mutually sorrowful gaze. Careful not to break their eye contact, Aerith reached for Cloud’s hands and took them into her own, curling her ribbon into the palms of his hands.

“There’s so much you need to do, Cloud. So many people you need to save. So many people who need your guidance and love.” Aerith spoke with reverence towards Cloud, “Sephiroth is going to use Meteor soon, and..I know I’m not the only one you cherish. Tifa, Barrett, Vincent, Cid, Yuffie, Red XIII, Marlene..and many more– so many people love you and need you, Cloud…which is why you need to go. I can’t bear to see the way you would break if they ended up like me.”

“You’re right…” Cloud’s eyebrows curled with shame, “I’m sorry. All you’ve ever wanted to do is help me. I can’t believe the way I–”

“Don’t blame yourself.” Aerith cut him off, squeezing his hands, “We all get sad sometimes, and that’s okay. What matters is that we’re able to pick ourselves up and keep moving after we fall.”

“Thank you, Aerith.” Cloud pulled her closer, returning the squeeze of her hands with an equally loving one of his own. “You’ve done so much for me. More than you’ll ever know.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled. She closed her eyes and lowered her head against his collarbone. “Just don’t forget me, okay?”

Taking the ribbon into his hand, Cloud released the grip he had on her hands and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a warm hug as he now gripped the bow against her back. Unlike the way they embraced when he first got here, it was now she who was silently crying against him, though that didn’t make her any weaker for it. It was okay to be sad, he learned. It was okay to cry. It was okay to be angry, even. All these emotions were a part of being human, and Aerith taught him that. All that mattered was that they were able to pick themselves up and keep living on in spite of it all. No matter what life threw at him, he would get back up– not just for Aerith or his friends, but for himself. He was more than a puppet; he was a human being who had people he loved, and people who loved him.

He would face Sephiroth, and he refused to back down this time. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t cherish, and he would protect Gaia with all of his being. Even if he didn’t succeed, all that mattered was that he tried his hardest to protect what mattered most. It wasn’t his genetics that determined whether he was human or not, but what he decided to do with himself, and if it meant fighting for the right to exist, so be it. He refused to back down.

“I’ll never forget you, Aerith."

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