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#ijichi angst
sauteedapple · 14 days
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COME GET YOUR BABY
Let me tell you there's only one thing better than pining, and that's balls to the wall upfront confessions, baby!
The jjk characters finding out you're going on a date!
Part 1 Including: Gojo, Nanami, Yaga, Yuki, Shoko, Kashimo, Ijichi & Kusakabe Part 2 Including: Geto, Toji, Choso, Ino, Higuruma, Sukuna, Uraume, Shiu & Utahime
CW: fluff, not-so-subtle manipulation tactics, jealousy, profanity.
A/N: can be read alongside 'where, oh, where is my four-leaf clover?' but also can be read as a stand alone. eat up! ヽ(*⌒▽⌒*)ノ
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
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© All rights reserved to @sauteedapple on tumblr.com. ANY(INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO)DISTRIBUTIONS, TRANSLATIONS AND PLAGIARISMS OF @sauteedapple's WORKS BY OTHER PARTIES ARE PROHIBITED.
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tsukimefuku · 1 month
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Hello, you amazing citizens of Tumblr. Here we are, the first writing challenge I’m happy to hold for no particular reason other than challenges are very fun.
We all know and love many Jujutsu Kaisen characters, and I guess many of us love food too. So, what if we join both passions in this challenge?
Welcome to “JJK foodies and goodies”, where you can send as part of the challenge a fic relating any JJK character with - you guessed it - food!
Slutty smut using food other than intended? Food preference head canons? A dinner scene? The sky is the limit, guys.
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One fic per writer.
Said fic or Drabble must be within the 400-2000 word count limit.
It has to be an original/not already posted piece, that was written specially for the challenge.
It must feature at least one JJK character in a main role.
There is no need for it to be “x Reader”.
Any genre is accepted, but be sure to tag it correctly at the beginning of your fic.
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Just to write and have fun with it. I might think of a next challenge with an actual prize, like a fanart or something of that sort, but this is supposed to be a simple bonding experience among writers and readers from the community. By the end of the challenge, I intend to make a masterlist with all of the submitted fics and put it in my pinned post.
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All submissions must be POSTED on your own blogs, TAGGING me (@tsukimefuku) and LINKING this challenge at the beginning, after May 26th and until June 21st.
Any story posted for the challenge after that deadline won’t be on the challenge’s masterlist.
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Considering this will be an extensive challenge to unite jjk fans and writers across the platform, I’d like to provide writers with a taglist for when they post their stories.
Readers and writer-readers: if you’d like to be on the tag list and support your fav writers works, please fill out this form (link) UNTIL MAY 25TH.
Writers interested in taking part on this challenge: on May 25th I’ll EDIT this post, putting the tag list here at the end for you to use on your fic, so be sure to save this somewhere safe :)
You don’t have to use the tag list, but you can if you want!
UPDATE: Here’s the taglist
@strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @jay220a @fattybattysblog
@suguru-nugget @senseifupa @aleigant @gigiculona @rahuratna
@ibukiaa
And this is it, loves! Hope you all have fun. I know I will 🤓🦉
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levieske · 10 days
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(𝟑) 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞
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In which Yuji Itadori accidentally spoils Hana Akiwara’s plans by ingesting Sukuna’s finger, and Satoru Gojo is constantly humbled as a result.
satoru gojo x ofc x suguru geto
[ canon divergence, fix-it au, everybody lives, no kenjaku, no shibuya incident, jjk s1, slow-burn, aged-up characters, age gap, questionable relationships, mentor-student relationships, unresolved sexual tension, more mature and graphic in future chapters, crack heavy for now, tvd references if you squint ]
previous - ao3 link - masterlist - next
After lounging at home and ruminating on her nagging thoughts for some hours, her day unfolded in its typical rhythm. The black-haired curse user got ready for her shift, quickly redoing her signature braid and grabbing her tote bag. After completing her usual ritual before work, she approached the door, her hand hesitating on the cold metal of the handle. She scanned her organized room and her gaze fixated on a particular floorboard slightly askew. With practiced ease, she pried it open to reveal the object of her recent dread: the finger.
Her anxiety remained a constant companion throughout the afternoon. Hana's intuition screamed that Gojo's sudden departure was more than it seemed, but she couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why. As a precaution, she fashioned the finger into a makeshift amulet, tucking it under her shirt. She arrived swiftly to the coffee shop and the hours slipped away as she took orders and handed baked goods. Her worries were dulled by the constant buzz of the machines and chatter of the customers’, something she was thankful for.
As the sun began to set, Hana continued pushing her thoughts in the backburner, trying to focus solely on completing her tasks until her shift ended. She didn’t want to dwell in any of it and she had been able to do a pretty decent job at it, scrubbing the L-shaped counter, until a wave of strong cursed energy hit her. The recognizable aura made her stop her movements. She heard the chime of the closing café door and footsteps approaching her. Akiwara didn’t need to turn around to know who that was.
“Great.” Her voice was filled with sarcasm, trying to hide the waver in her voice. Her heart pounded, in a rhythmic panic. “You missed me that much?” 
Akiwara tossed the rag in the sink and finally turned around. Gojo stood there, wearing the school’s characteristic navy blue uniform, just like earlier that day. He seemed deep in thought as he inspected the pastries displayed. One lonely daifuku, a pair of matcha mochis and a taiyaki Hana had planned to take home were all that remained.
“Something like that.” He replied after a while.
The curse user stared at the sorcerer, in plain disbelief. He was seemingly less irritating than usual, which kind of alarmed her. Satoru continued to scrutinize the baked goods in silence. Hana expected him to say something, anything really. Her heart beated faster inside her chest, uncertainty filling her head. Hana toyed with the hem of her apron, her fingers tracing the fabric as she gathered the courage to break the silence.
“What brings you here, Satoru?” She asked, her voice steady despite the unease churning within her. “I’m sure you weren’t just passing by.”
Gojo lifted his head. “There’s no easy way to go about this.” He began, his voice heavy with a sigh. Akiwara noticed his stiff posture, hands buried in his pockets. “Itadori’s dead.”
His response took her off guard. She gripped the counter for support, her head felt dizzy. She must have misheard. “What- How?” Her voice was coarse, stammering. Hana blinked a few times as her vision turned blurry.
“I’m sorry.” His tone was sincere, but Hana could feel his gaze avoiding hers behind the blindfold. His features were covered by guilt.
“What happened, Satoru?” Her confusion quickly morphed into anger, spitting his name filled with venom. “What did you do to him?”
She felt a surge of resentment overcome her. Whether or not her anger was misplaced, he was responsible for this. Gojo was supposed to look after Itadori. After all, he was the reason why her friend had gone to Jujutsu Tech. She tried to steady her breathing, concealing the lump in her throat. She should at least hear him out to know what happened.
“I need you to come to the school with me, so you can see the body.” He said, his request sounding more like a plea than a demand. “I want to test something.”
Hana was dry, containing her tears with each breath she took. “Why would I do that?”
Inhale. Exhale.
“I have a feeling Itadori’s not truly gone yet.” Satoru remained stiff as he explained himself. Hana had a feeling he still wasn’t looking at her, that damned blindfold. “Your clan’s connections with Sukuna may give him another chance.”
It was no surprise for her that the man knew that piece of information. Her clan didn’t have a great name for itself.
“You’re going to have to tell me what happened.” Hana demanded, firmer.
Satoru seemed to deflate slightly. “He was sent on a mission. It was a trap and Sukuna ripped his heart out when he took over.” Before she could protest further, he continued. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if I wasn’t sure you could fix this situation.”
“How do I know this isn’t another trap?” The curse user frowned. Yuji’s death wasn’t enough for her to forget the target on her back.
“Because it isn’t. If I were to kill you, I would be upfront about it.” He simply stated it, his voice sending chills down her spine. Hana stared at him, conflicted. “The only people we are going to meet are the same ones willing to keep Itadori a secret if he comes back.”
“What do they know?” Hana's question was a flicker of vulnerability surpassing the walls she tried to contain her emotions with.
“No one in Jujutsu Tech knows much about you and your brother, aside from me. I mostly avoided telling them you have this .” Gojo admitted, his hand briefly grazing the spot where she hid the finger around her collarbones. “Think of this as me trusting you, Hana. I see your potential.”
Akiwara lifted her eyebrows in a skeptical manner, her eyes meeting his blindfold. “Potential or not, why are you so sure I can resurrect Yuji?”
“Oh, I don’t think you can.” Gojo’s reply was nonchalant, his laid-back tone taking her off guard again. “You’re going to contact Sukuna.” Akiwara’s features twisted into a frown, her eyes narrowing at his words. “You felt there was something wrong with him,” he gestured to the finger, “don’t try to deny that.”
The curse user rolled her eyes, but didn’t acknowledge what the sorcerer said. “Let me grab my things. I’ll be right back.”
After she collected her belongings and stepping out of the café, she noticed Satoru had taken the leftover baked goods with him. She decided against asking him, choosing instead to walk alongside him towards his car in silence. The ride was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of the paper bag containing the sweets. She didn’t utter a word during the ride and he didn’t try to make conversation, allowing her to stare at the passing landscape as she continued thinking about what she had just decided to do. It wasn’t like she could jump out of the speeding car, although she had a feeling her brother would have preferred that.
Jujutsu Tech was located in the outskirts of Tokyo, hidden in the mountains. The campus was filled with traditional-style buildings and the amount of cursed energy felt a tad overwhelming for Hana. There were just too many sorcerers in one place or, maybe, she was just on edge. Before even the thought of fleeing crossed her mind, Satoru had already led her to the morgue. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over the faces of Shoko Ieiri and Kiyotaka Ijichi, the two sorcerers that stood by Yuji's body. Their entrance didn’t go unnoticed, her presence intruding in the sterile room. Hana felt the weight of their stares on her, both strangers ignoring the fact that the tall sorcerer entered munching on the sweets of the cafe. She didn’t think she’d be able to stomach them anymore.
“You brought the curse user?” Shoko's voice was calm, cutting through the silence. Hana expected her to use a judgemental tone, but the medical-gown-wearing sorcerer didn’t seem to bother.
Gojo's reply was matter-of-fact. “Yep. This is Hana.”
Ieiri's eyes narrowed in her direction. The curse user in question fidgeted, aware that the woman had just noticed the little trinket she had with her. “You forgot to mention she was using one of Sukuna's fingers as a channel.”
“Didn’t think there had to be a problem.” Gojo retorted, meeting her gaze unflinching. “She’s here to help, right?”
Hana shifted uncomfortably by his side, sighing. “Of course. Yuji is my friend.”
“See? It’ll be fine.” His cheerfulness seemed to come back for a brief second. 
“You know I don’t doubt it.”
Akiwara watched the exchange in silence, concluding that they were close. Ieiri and Gojo, at least. The other sorcerer stood quietly in the room, trying to blend into the background until Gojo engaged him in conversation. The curse user drowned out the sound of their voices, her attention drawn to Itadori. Her heart ached as she saw him, his body lying lifeless on the autopsy table. She had avoided looking at him at first, trying to maintain her composure until Satoru would tell her what he wanted her to do. But now, her gaze was inexorably drawn to him. She walked towards him, her steps slow and hesitant, when she noticed Gojo had moved closer to Ijichi.
His eyes were closed, his skin a sickly pale, almost white. There was a gaping hole where his heart should have been. His hand was cold to the touch, but she held onto it, her fingers wrapping around his. She held it tight with her two hands, closing her eyes as she exhaled. “I’m so sorry.”
Hana bowed to the body of her friend for a few seconds and her eyes opened to meet… Yuji’s? The world seemed to stand still as she held his gaze.
“Hana?” The sound of her name startled her, her grip on his hand loosening as she straightened her back in surprise. Itadori sat up, his eyes scanning his surroundings. The hole in his chest was gone, his skin regaining some of its color. It felt like watching Bella turn into a vampire in real life. Blissful, but oddly off-putting.
Hana distantly heard the voices of the three other sorcerers in the room, but she disregarded them, focusing on Yuji only.
“Yuji…” She mouthed his name. Her arms instinctively found their way around him, pulling him into a tight embrace as she shook off the initial shock. 
Yuji hugged her back, his voice weak but filled with warmth. “Hana, what are you doing here?” He looked down at himself, realizing his… lack of clothing. Hana noticed, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as she hastily broke the hug. She averted her eyes, a respectful distance now between them. “Wow, where are my clothes?”
Ieiri, quick to diffuse the awkwardness, handed him a shirt as Gojo approached them. “Yuji. Welcome back.” He extended his hand for a high-five, which Itadori returned with a small, disoriented smile.
As Gojo spoke with Itadori, Akiwara tried to steady her breathing, feeling her eyes water once again. She stepped out of the morgue with a shaky breath, not stopping until she reached the outside of the building. She knew it would be best to stay with Gojo, but she needed to calm down. She wasn’t going to break down there, in front of those sorcerers. She’d process her emotions at home, with her brother, where she felt truly safe.
Inhale. Exhale.
Leaning against the wall, Hana wiped away the stray tears that had escaped, careful not to smudge her eyeliner. It wasn’t waterproof. Thankfully, she had successfully regained her composure when Satoru and Shoko exited the medical building. Hana was perched on the railing, observing the deserted campus. The absence of people at this late hour brought her a small measure of comfort, but she was still acutely aware that she was in enemy territory.
The white-haired sorcerer's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Here you are. I thought you had already left.”
Hana chuckled, turning around. “And walk down all those stairs alone? I'd probably get lost before I even reached them.”
Satoru's smile widened at her response. He seemed pleased with the outcome, and she shared his sentiment, to an extent. Yuji was alive, which was great news, but she had set a foot in Jujutsu Tech. Hana grimaced at the thought; it was a line she had never intended to cross. She had no desire to mingle with sorcerers, yet here she was. She sighed, feeling overwhelmed by the night's events. She hoped Yuji wasn’t mad at her for leaving like that. The two sorcerers started walking and the curse user followed them, not wanting to get left behind.
“Should I update the records?” Shoko asked, glancing at the tall man.
“No, leave them as is.” He replied instantly, already having made his mind up. “It’s safer this way, I want him to be able to defend himself next time they set a trap.” He explained further. “I’m sorry, Shoko, but could you leave him as dead in the records?”
The doctor shrugged, casting a brief glance at Hana. “So, you plan to keep Itadori and the curse user hidden away?”
Hana stared at Satoru expectantly. “No, she is going to join the school soon .” He emphasized, turning to face her. The curse user raised her eyebrows in disagreement. “I’ll have Itadori make his comeback in time for the Exchange Event.”
“Why?” Ieiri asked, plainly.
“It’s pretty simple. No one is allowed to take youth away from young people.” Gojo turned to Akiwara. His smile tinged with gratitude, he was being sincere. “Now, now. Your job here is done. It wasn’t so bad, see?”
“I guess…” Akiwara shrugged. Aside from her little breakdown, there wasn’t much to it. “I still don’t know if I even did anything- I just held his hand.”
Gojo eyed her. “You didn’t feel anything?”
The curse user rolled her eyes at his inquiry. “I felt light-headed, but I think that’s because this place makes me nauseous.”
Shoko laughed at her comment. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Gojo. I won’t update the records.” She turned to Hana, offering her a tired smile. “Until next time.”
With a wave and a cheeky grin, Satoru bid farewell to the doctor sorcerer. Hana just smiled back at her. The sorcerer and the curse user then set off towards the exit, their footsteps echoing in the silence. Hana fiddled with the straps of her bag, replaying the events in the morgue. She didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. As ridiculous as it seemed, the man was pretty sure she would be able to help. If she had done anything, she would gladly take credit for it, but she hadn’t. She couldn't even recall if she had felt Sukuna's cursed energy during their encounter.
As they neared Gojo's car, Hana decided to break the silence. “Maybe it was the power of friendship what helped Yuji.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He shrugged, and gave her one of his irritating smiles as he unlocked the car. “You still have to give me an answer. Did the power of friendship convince you to stay?”
“Yuji isn’t attending until when now?” She retorted, climbing into the vehicle. She fastened her seat belt and gave the man a pointed look as he mimicked her actions. “There’s no power of friendship to begin with to convince me to attend Jujutsu Tech.”
The sorcerer hummed, pretending to be deep in thought, then looked at her. “You could make lots of friends, heh.”
“I’m not a child, Satoru.” She frowned. How old was he anyway? She studied him for a moment, Gojo didn’t even look much older than her, six years tops. “I need to talk with my brother about this. Then, I’ll give you an answer.”
The answer would still be no, but she didn’t have the energy to fight him.
Satoru started the engine, nodding. “Well, remember, it’s either joining or being executed.” He continued smiling sickly.
You should really work on your convincing tactics.” Hana’s frown deepened, baffled.
“I can be really persuasive.” He replied, batting his eyelashes at her. She looked away, a soft laugh escaping her lips.
This man was really something. Hana didn’t understand what to make out of him, other than thinking he seemed a tad childish in his position of “the strongest”. He might as well just be weird, which wasn’t something exactly out of the norm in the curse users she had met.
As Satoru began to drive, the woman found herself stealing glances at him. The topic of Yuji remained an enigma for her. She didn’t know what he was going to do regarding that matter, really.
She broke the silence once again, the question already having left her lips before she could dwell into her thoughts further. “Will I be able to see Yuji again?”
“We’ll see about that.” His reply was vague. He glanced at her, his eyes twinkling. “If only you enrolled…”
“Oh, shut up.” Hana muttered, shaking her head.
He sighed, his expression turning serious. “He's safe in the school, and I don't think it's a good idea to let you see him. For now.”
His words didn’t do much to ease her. In fact, it only fueled her frustration. “Yeah, super safe.” Hana replied bitterly.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Their playful banter had died down with her comment, and Satoru seemed to understand her need for quiet, which she appreciated. Maybe she had been a bit harsh, but hiding Itadori in a place full of sorcerers seemed downright stupid. When they reached her house, a wave of unease washed over her. How did he even know where she lived?
Sighing, she concluded it was probably Yuji who had given him that piece of information.
“Goodbye, Satoru.” She spoke, dryly, as she undid her seatbelt and opened the car door.
Gojo's eyes tried to meet hers, failing as she was already stepping out of his vehicle. There was a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze behind his blindfold before it washed away. "Goodbye, Hana."
Hana walked towards her apartment complex, not looking back. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had just passed some sort of test.
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Less than a week later, Yuji was pretty much delivered to her home. Hana’s resentment towards the blindfolded prick had been growing in the last few days, aggravated by her lack of knowledge about her friend’s whereabouts. Her emotions were back in check and so was her perception of Gojo.
The curse user sighed at the vessel’s facial expression.
“He didn’t even tell you why I was there when you woke up?”
Itadori nodded slightly. He shifted in his sitting position on the couch, where both of them now sat. His legs stirred under him as he watched Hana rest her chin on top of her knees. The girl crouched in front of him, on the other side of her black couch. Her dark pajamas and colorful choice of socks would have raised a laugh out of him if only the last few weeks hadn't occurred. Yuji wished he could just erase them, he really did.
He kept his brown eyes on her gray ones as she spoke. “I thought you knew.”
“Gojo has explained little about you.” He shrugged.
His mentor didn't have any problem avoiding certain topics, despite his incessant complaints. Yuji knew he hadn't outright lied to him. He never denied the fact he wasn't telling him everything, but that didn't make it less annoying.
“What did he say about me?”
That got her full attention. Itadori didn't miss the way she lifted her brows at him. It was him who sighed this time. “He told me you're unpredictable and that makes you dangerous. That's all I needed to know.”
“Is that why you looked terrified when we met in the bakery?”
She openly smiled at him, just like she used to when she mocked him. Yuji Itadori was used to that smile, but that didn't mean he was immune to it. He started playing with the laces of his turquoise hood.
“No- Well, yes.” He rectified, almost stuttering. “To a point.” The vessel could feel his cheeks getting warmer under the curse user's stare. “You're still my friend.”
Hana needed to know. “What do you think about me, then?”
The girl lifted her head.
“You're a good liar.” Yuji was blunt. Ouch. “But I believe you had your reasons.”
Her head was on top of her knees once again. She turned her head to her left, deciding to avoid her friend’s eyes as she let the words sink in.
She had reasons. She used to have them, anyways. She wasn’t certain anymore.
“If I knew what was going to happen that night, I would have told you, Yuji.” She finally looked back at him. “You wouldn't have that thing inside you.”
The vessel had a frown fixed on his brows. “It's not your fa-”
“But it really is.” Hana was abrupt. “You know that.”
“I just… Don’t understand why you wanted it.” Yuji admitted, watching Hana’s features. “What were you planning?”
“Nothing evil.” The girl assured him and chuckled, as her heart beated faster on her chest. “It’s just a cursed object I wanted to try, you know my technique absorbs cursed energy, right?”
˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖
The legend of Sukuna, the big, bad cursed spirit dating back from the Heian Era, had been etched into Hana’s consciousness from a tender age. His power had been fragmented into twenty severed fingers. Cursed objects were powerful and quite useful for her technique, cursed energy manipulation. 
Hana believed Yuji wasn’t asking the right questions. The reason why she wanted the finger and what she was planning on doing with it was simple: she wanted to channel it. Her technique allowed her to -quite literally- copy and paste techniques when she used others’ cursed energy. Just like she had when she had met Satoru Gojo. She copied his abilities and used Sukuna’s as a distraction.
Of course, understanding the techniques she used was as much of a requirement as channeling the energy of her opponents was. It didn’t come naturally to her using others’s energies.
Convenience was another one of her reasons. In reality, she could have just channeled any other cursed object. Many of them were singular and heavily guarded, hidden. The twenty fingers were scattered, some even serving as talismans warding off the bigger curses. The Akiwara’s intrigue in these fingers was sparked by their grandmother’s tales, although the passage of time had faded many of the details. Their nana, who had left Japan in her youth, introduced them to the intricacies of jujutsu. After all, their relatives hadn’t been able to use cursed energy and their matriarch was the sole source of knowledge for the twins.
It was only last year that the Akiwara’s path intersected with a curse user, a meeting none of the siblings cherished. Hana had been looking for information about her clan and the elusive cursed object, which resulted in drawing unwanted attention. This stranger’s interest mirrored her own, and he provided the twins with snippets of knowledge. Nothing worth the meeting, really. Kenji and Hana met a few more curse users along the way, but it wasn’t until recently that her brother found an actual lead.
Weeks before Hana found herself entwined with sorcerers, Kenji had caught wind of a potent cursed object rumored to be within the walls of their university. He betted it was one of Sukuna’s fingers and he was proven correct. In comparison to him, Hana had made little to no progress in her stupid occult club. Who knew actually looking for information would have achieved something, heh? Hana hadn’t been particularly invested in the search for the finger, focusing instead on having a little break from jujutsu for the meantime. Kenji, on the other hand, was relentless in his pursuit of knowledge. His break was quite short lived.
However, Hana's efforts weren’t entirely in vain. You see, there were few individuals who would listen to her blab about occult-related stuff and also want to partake in the conversation. Even though they weren’t actually knowledgeable in jujutsu, she believed they would serve some purpose as minions. It was because of Yuji’s insistence she joined the club. He was the first classmate to approach her, which kind of spoiled her plan of being the loner of the class.
Yuji seemed to be spoiling many of her plans.
Despite her initial reluctance to form close connections with others, especially as the older girl who had been held back a year, she gradually grew attached to her fellow club members. They didn't prove to be particularly helpful in her search, yet she began to develop genuine friendships with them. The only thing she regretted was ever telling them about the finger’s possible location.
The twins were no strangers to manipulation, having navigated a world that seemed perpetually against them. Despite her new friends’ lack of knowledge about curses, Hana believed they would make the task of finding the finger easier. She had no intention of just unsealing it on school grounds, knowing that such a powerful cursed object would attract even more curses, especially the stronger ones.
But those… idiots, just did it regardless.
It was supposed to be nothing more than a lighthearted joke when she talked about unsealing the finger, a bit of encouragement wrapped in humor. Hana was aware of Iguchi and Sasaki’s fascination with the supernatural, and Itadori seemed to be glad of taking part in the club’s antics. They had a great time when Akiwara, using a burst of cursed energy, knocked over Sasaki’s bottle during a ouija board session. Their screams amused the curse user, but she still brushed it off saying it had been her fault by being clumsy. It was harmless fun.
The day her friends found the cursed object, Hana was tied up at work. Iguchi and Sasaki forgot she’d be all afternoon at the café, and Yuji wasn’t even there as he was also occupied. Unbeknownst to her, the unsealing of the finger had unleashed a horde of curses that targeted her friends, wreaking havoc in their university. With the help of a sorcerer, Itadori dealt with the chaos and the night ultimately resulted in him ingesting the finger.
By the end of her shift, Akiwara had a few unread messages and a missed call from Itadori. It was more than enough to make her rush to the hospital, where her friend had informed her they were. A sense of urgency propelled her through the hospital’s sliding doors, as she skillfully avoided the few people that lingered around. She found Yuji at the reception, sitting down as he waited for her. Her gaze fixed on him as she strode towards him, her steps quickening. His usual bright demeanor was dimmed, replaced by a grim expression. Hana’s mind was clouded by her friends’ well-being when she sat next to Yuji, unaware of his recent change.
“How- how are they?” The curse user asked, trying to calm her erratic breathing. She fidgeted with her hands, her eyes searching in her friend’s ones for answers. “What happened?
“The ceiling in our club room just… collapsed.” Yuji’s reply was quiet. His gaze met hers, concerned. “They’re stable, but they got hurt pretty bad.” 
Hana’s heart sank. “How bad are we talking?”
“Mild concussion for both,” Yuji recounted, his voice barely above a whisper, “Iguchi’s arm broke trying to protect Sasaki, and she sprained her ankle. They were unconscious when help arrived, and haven’t awakened yet.” Hana nodded, begging him to continue. “They’ll be fine, the doctor assures they’ll recover with rest.”
“I hope so…” She mumbled as a response. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“You couldn’t have known, Hana.” Yuji consoled, offering a comforting touch on her shoulder. “I didn’t even…” “
“You didn’t see anything… strange?” Hana inquired, her voice trailing off as she averted her gaze. Yuji looked at her, frowning. “I mean they said they were-”
“I didn’t.” Yuji interjected, but Hana wasn’t able to decipher the conflict in his tone. “They told me they were waiting for me before doing anything, and… the ceiling had already collapsed by the time I got there.”
Relief washed over Hana, mingled with a twinge of disappointment. The chance to obtain one of Sukuna’s fingers had slipped through their fingers, quite literally.
Despite feeling a twinge of guilt for putting her friends at risk, she reminded herself that it was their own idea. Kind of. She merely shared a rumor with them, without giving any specific instructions. Yet, the guilt lingered, weighing heavily on her conscience. Normal humans and their stupidity weren’t something she could control, but Hana had grown fond of them. She shouldn’t have gotten them into this mess.
As she was deep in thought, Itadori battled with his own inner turmoil. It was probably going to be the last time he saw her before going with Gojo and Fushiguro to who knows where. The boy, now a vessel, hadn’t really thought about the consequences of his impulsive decisions. He acted on instinct and it somehow worked out. His friends were alive and the powerful curse he now housed wasn’t in control of his body. The only thing he could ask for was Hana's presence in his life, even though it was probably for the best that they remained apart.
Neither of them wanted the other to be entangled in the world of jujutsu. It was quite ironic.
Yuji’s voice broke the silence. “Hana, I… I wanted to say goodbye. I’m transferring to another university in Tokyo.” Hana looked at him in shock as she processed his words. “My grandpa passed away today. He always talked about that uni… I think it’s what he would have wanted.”
Hana reached out, her hand finding Yuji’s as an offer of comfort. “I’m so sorry, Yuji..”
Yuji's only parental figure, Wasuke Itadori, had played a significant role in his life. Hana had met him when she accompanied Yuji on one of his visits to the hospital. He was a stubborn old man, but his mood lifted dramatically when he took notice of Hana. She laughed at one of the man’s jabs at his grandson, not fully comprehending the inside jokes the family had. It was endearing and, sadly, Hana understood all too well Yuji’s need for a change of scenery now that all he had was gone.
She would miss him, truly. The bond between Hana and Yuji was evident, despite the existence of certain unspoken topics. Hana believed that as their friendship blossomed, she would have eventually shared more about herself. Anything related to jujutsu was off the table, though. Hana recognized her friend's innocence, and didn't want to burden him with it. The danger of getting the unwanted attention of sorcerers or curse users was enough to stop her from telling him anything. Kenji and her had cut ties with cursed users many months ago for that very reason.
They embraced and parted ways with a heavy heart. As Hana made her way home, her thoughts were already on visiting Sasaki and Iguchi once they awoke. But as the weeks went by her friends remained unconscious, Hana and Kenji resumed their search for the next finger, which you already know how it ended.
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comments and suggestions are highly appreciated!
ty for reading <3
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sukugo · 2 months
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gojo is just ijichi's high maintenance boyfriend
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temozarela · 5 months
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-> who are you, really?
GOJO SATORU CHARACTER STUDY loneliness, philosophy, ijichi, mentions of death, angst, morality
satoru didn’t want to die, but it’s not always that simple, is it?
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The streets of Shibuya were bustling, the murmurs of passers-by and the low mumbling of traffic hanging in the air like steam, seeping through the earphones in Satoru’s ears. He was stood outside the train station, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for any sort of motivation to spark in his brain, to finally force him to text Ijichi for a ride home. Numbly, he stared at the ground, a frown tugging at his lips.
There were times, not often, where he’d entertain his brain, and let the cogs run wild until the metal grated against itself painfully, and the rust tarnished the surface. When allowed to, the brain catastrophises. It creates a network of tunnels as microscopic as a neutron, and as significant as a galaxy, and wriggles its way out of chronic stress. There are hundreds of thousands of people in Shibuya. Murderers, tourists, mothers, psychopaths, students, dentists, homeless... Personality is merely the colour you paint your walls, or the clothes you wear. When stripped away, it’s all the same: walls and a human body. That’s the way Satoru saw it. Everyone has the same brain. The same brain that burrows so many tunnels, and unknowingly digs its own grave. The ‘what if’s and ‘what then’s, the lefts and rights all lead to the same, inevitable outcome, the same full stop where the brain can no longer rip possibilities out from the ground. Death. Ironic, isn’t it? Satoru didn’t want to die, but it’s not always that simple, is it?
He had experienced his fair share of episodic stresses. It would be easy to blame his stress on the deaths of Amanai and Suguru. You wouldn’t be wrong, but the worst losses were the ones he never had. The absence of childhood, the absence of true freedom, the absence of being able to rebel, and say no, the absence of a life where he could have come home to parents who saw him as their boy. A lonely, inconsolable envy gnawed at his guts at the thought that Nanami was able to just… leave… and that it was ok. Millions of lives weren’t put in imminent danger, the lives of vulnerable students weren’t uselessly thrown away- Nanami could choose what he wanted. Satoru could never do that. It was an envy that was expertly hidden, and mistaken. He didn’t think too hard about feelings. Most likely the reason that when they caught up with him, it stung.
Wanting to die and wishing you could start again to live a different life are synonymous. Well, the intention is anyway. If he thought about it really hard, maybe he’d take a moment to imagine coming back to a home that smelled like homemade curry and fresh bread. The warm kitchen lights would be on, and maybe there’d be arms wide open to embrace him. If he tried to visualise the figure waiting for him, he probably wouldn’t be able to. His albino eyebrows would furrow and his lips would twitch as he’d try to think harder. Yet, the grey fuzzy arms around him and the grey fuzzy face tucked into the crook of his neck would refuse to contort into the features of a face he could recognise or love. If he tried again, the figure would probably change size. Perhaps into something more masculine. It wouldn't matter much to him. If he really thought about it, he probably could’ve been a high school teacher. Maybe physics.
The greatest pleasure of Satoru’s childhood was being a problem child. The pure joy of watching rage spread across Yaga’s brutish face was unrivaled, but unlike most, his childhood only lasted two years. According to modern scientists, the personality is set in stone at 6, as is your frontal lobe at 25. Yet at 6, he was silent, uptight, and prickly. At 16, he was flippant, annoying, and chaotic, and at 26, he was spontaneous, childish, and aloof. In that case, what even was personality, if not the lexemes others would describe you with? Satoru didn’t know. The words he learned to respond with and the jokes he learned to tell were simply a result of successful interactions observed from others. The few interests he had were those of the people he’d met. The people he liked were those who didn’t inconvenience him. Most would probably say the same thing, so who was he, really? If you were to ask those he knew, he’d be convinced that they’d all say the same thing.
He’s the strongest.
That’s who he was, right?
He didn’t fuss with the details: what he wore, how he decorated, how he acted… it didn’t matter. He was defined by one word. It didn’t matter who he told people he was, who people said he was, the personality tests, MBTI and astrological signs were useless. Satoru didn’t stress it, after all, he’s never had to introduce himself in his life.
Infinite Void was cold. Space must’ve been cold, because Infinite Void was freezing. His skin would prickle as smudges of stars, galaxies, and planets would engulf him in a rapid blur that would give any normal person chronic vertigo. Unlike the icy breezes of midwinter Tokyo, the chill of Infinite Void was still- a sudden existence of negative temperatures that just appeared, as if a switch had been flicked. The cold was infectious. It would seep through his pores, before winding around his skeleton like a boa constrictor, milking out the warmth from his muscles. It wasn’t the kind of cold that makes your fingertips go numb, and your cheeks to flush. Rather, it went straight to the heart in a way which made his stomach churn. To Satoru, it could only really be compared to the feeling of desperately dry heaving with an empty stomach. Apparently, the victim’s experience is tenfold.
Sometimes he’s reminded of the time when Suguru showed him the trolley problem at 15.
“Huh? That’s so stupid!”
“Just answer the question!”
“Who the hell chooses to kill more people?”
“Satoru, why is their life worth more than theirs?”
“Never said theirs was, just said there are less of them.”
“The larger row may consist of terrible people though.”
“The fuck you want me to do? Stop the trolly and get to know them? At that point, I might as well not hit anyone.”
“…Satoru, I don’t think you’re getting this.”
“I think you’re getting far more than there actually is, Suguru.”
“Come on, Satoru.”
“Though… if I swerve, I can get all of them.”
“You’re awful.”
And again, a year later.
“Should we kill them all?”
And again, 12 years later.
“The execution is still on, but I got your sentence suspended.”
“Suspended? So you’re not killing me right away?”
Again and again, despite everyone, he always ended up trying to choose the option that cost the least lives. It never seemed to work out in the end though. Would it have been easier to stray from the school and go rogue with Suguru? Probably. Would it have been easier to execute the boy who consumed Sukuna’s finger? Definitely. It was so easy to see in hindsight, but every time he still took off in the same direction. Satoru felt like a dog nipping at his own tail. The solution was so close, yet so far. He knew exactly what it was, but it seemed he never learned.
When he was a teenager, he overheard muffled voices of Yaga and the higher-ups.
“…Too much responsibility for one boy.”
It was foreign to his ears, hearing someone say that about him. It never occurred to him that it was something that could be said about him. Satoru had never been a boy before. In the Gojo estate, he had often wondered what boys even did. When he had asked Suguru, he had earned a strange look.
“What do you even mean by that?”
“‘Dunno, just answer.”
“Nagged my mother and kicked a ball around the garden for a bit.”
“Huh? When did you train?”
“I… didn’t?”
“Oh.”
…Was that what it meant to a boy?
To say the least, when it came to be, Satoru was delighted to be a boy. To hear it bellowed from Yaga’s office after he started a fire in the kitchens, to hear it scowled from an elder’s lips after he refused work. It was his pleasure.
Even at his adult age, hearing Shoko say ‘he has the body of a man and the mind of a boy’ was some sort of sad comfort. Really, he never placed his finger on why, but he was sure he could if he wanted to.
Suddenly, Satoru was snapped back to reality. His phone, of which he had been haphazardly dangling between his thumb and forefinger, vibrated with a message- from Ijichi.
I didn’t hear from you so I came anyway. I’m outside.
Satoru tucked his phone into his pocket, stretching his arms in front of him. Sure enough, through the mess of pedestrians, he could see the glistening, black Mercedes parked by the curb.
It was almost as if he were a mind-reader. Despite his seemingly perpetual nerves, Ijichi was almost like a lifeline for Satoru. He was one of the consistent pillars of his life. From underwhelming dates to gruelling missions, Satoru knew that it would always end in the passenger seat of Ijichi’s Mercedes. It’s just how it was. Seemingly, even with minimal genuine and meaningful interaction, a lonely string of childish trust connected Satoru to him, albeit perhaps unrequited.
Another wave of chattering pedestrians flooded towards Satoru as the traffic lights turned red. He tensed, awkwardly wading through the crowd as he approached Ijichi. At his arrival, the passenger side window rolled down.
“Home?” Ijichi asked, leaning over the passenger seat to address him.
Satoru shook his head, “The school, Ijichi.”
Ijichi muttered something under his breath as he adjusted his posture, allowing Satoru to get in.
“Got something to say, Ijichi?” He teased him, lightly.
“No!” Ijichi spluttered, clumsily starting the engine.
Satoru closed his eyes as Ijichi pulled away from the curb, joining the queue of city traffic. He could trust that Ijichi wouldn’t attempt to start any small talk. The cogs in his brain clanged, grating to a stop as the comforting spell of lavender sleep washed over him. Usually, he didn’t let his mind run away from him, but when he did- man was it exhausting.
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paper rings and all the things they don’t say
Chapter : 3/7
Rating : Mature
Fandom : Jujutsu Kaisen
Archive Warning : Graphic Depictions of Violence
Relationships : Gojo Satoru/Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu & Nanami Kento, Getou Suguru & Gojo Satoru & Ieiri Shoko, Getou Suguru & Gojo Satoru & Haibara Yu & Ieiri Shoko & Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi & Gojo SatoruFushiguro Megumi & Fushiguro Tsumiki & Gojo Satoru, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Characters : Haibara Yu (Jujutsu Kaisen), Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Getou Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Fushiguro Megumi, Fushiguro Tsumiki, Ijichi Kyotaka, Minor & Background Characters
Additional Tags : Alternate Universe - No Curses (Jujutsu Kaisen), Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Mafia and Organised Crime, Outsider Perspective on Relationship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Tattoos, getting tattoos, Marriage of Convenience, marriage of inconvenience, Getting Together, Slow Burn, NanaGo Fest 2022 (Jujutsu Kaisen), nanago fest, Parental Gojo Satoru, Yuu Haibara's Intrusive Thoughts, Gojo Satoru is a Little Shit, Gojo Satoru is Brown, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, infidelity (dont worry they arent actually in love), background Nanami Kento/Getou Suguru, Fake Marriage, Theft, Haibara is a short king, Touch-Averse Gojo Satoru, Non-Linear Narrative, Parental Nanami Kento, Allusion to Past Homophobia, Mention of Dead Parents/ Family, Gore (non-fatal), Medication, Attempted Self-Treatment of Severe Injury, Gunshot Wounds, Profanity, Vomiting, Infidelity, Alcohol, Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Summary :
"Ugh, fine, fine." Gojo huffs. "Shoko sent me a picture of her little terror with the kids. It's so cute I'm making it my lockscreen. Don't worry, you're still my homescreen. I gotta have a photo of my husband's cute, grumpy morning face." Nanami's eyebrows crease, pulling his features down to a soft frown. Gojo laughs, lifting his hand to his mouth to blow a kiss in his husband's direction. These people are so horrendously sappy, Yuu thinks he's getting a sugar headache.
  or Yuu Haibara's perspective on how his boss gets married and falls in love. ---- written for NanaGo Fest 2022
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marikuchanxo · 2 months
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🖤SMAU🖤
Misunderstanding
Misunderstanding - The Aftermath
Emergency Mission
His Picture
Iced Tea
Baking on The Weekend
Asking for Morning Sex
You Remind Him of Hello Kitty
He Worries About Your Bruises
Your Period and Work Don't Mix
New Photoshoot
Secret Fantasies
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hoshigray · 4 months
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𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~
and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~
prev story » ❤︎
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“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”
“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”
“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”
You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again. 
It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.
Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.
But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.
However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.
But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on. 
And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it. 
“Y/n!”
Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by. 
“Y/n...”
But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop. 
“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“
“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” 
You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.
You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”
“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.
“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”
“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”
And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.” 
The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.
“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.
“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“
“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“
“Did he tell you what he said to me?”
“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.” 
“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”
Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“
“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.
“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”
You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"
“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“
“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“
“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”
“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?
“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”
Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”
“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”
“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”
And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation. 
“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”
He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down. 
“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”
“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”
“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff. 
“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”
“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”
It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against. 
But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.
“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.” 
Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself. 
From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock. 
Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about. 
And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.
BZZZR!! BZZZR!!
However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button. 
It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—
“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.
“Hi…..Where are you?”
“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”
“In the bathroom.”
“You sitting on the toilet?”
You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”
“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”
“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“
“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”
Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”
“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”
“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”
“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.” 
“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”
“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“
“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?” 
He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin. 
“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”
“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”
“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?” 
You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.
As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.
You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?” 
“Huh?”
“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”
The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”
“Gojo—“
“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.
You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?” 
“….”
“…Gojo?”
“….”
“Gojo? Are you still—“
“I like you.”
Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.
There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.
He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.
“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.
“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”
“How long ago is that?”
“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”
“…Why?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you like me? 
You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.” 
You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say. 
“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”
You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”
“Huh!? Why??”
“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”
“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”
“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”
“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”
“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”
He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”  
“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”
KA-BANG-BANG!!
You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.
“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”
“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“
“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?” 
Huh!? “A date??”
“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”
“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“
“We could skip—“
“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.” 
“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”
For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”
It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out? 
Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.” 
“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”
“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”
“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”
Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”
“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”
“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”
“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”
“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”
“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”
“Goodbye, Gojo.”
“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“
CLICK!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about. 
As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.
What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.
You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.
“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”
“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around. 
And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.
“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth. 
“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.” 
“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”
“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”
Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip. 
And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”
“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.
After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie. 
However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute. 
Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.
“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t. 
Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”
He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?” 
You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”
“You just saying that to agree with me?” 
“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.
He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:
“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”
He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—
“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”
Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”
You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”
“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”
Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”
“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”
The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”
When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.
Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them. 
This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.
So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed. 
His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.
He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”
He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp. 
But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties. 
You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers. 
When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more. 
“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.
“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”
You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.
“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.
Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”
That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.
He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.
“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.
“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.
His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?” 
You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?” 
He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.
“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”
You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”
Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.
Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.
“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”
You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.
“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“
“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”
“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”
“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”
Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie! 
And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no! 
“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”
Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision. 
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!” 
Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt. 
He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl. 
The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.
He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”
“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck. 
“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”
Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”
“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”
“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?” 
He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”
“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.
“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”
“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”
“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”
“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“
“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”
It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.
After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!
Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours. 
Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.
Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.
And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation. 
You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“
“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his. 
“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“
“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.” 
You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again. 
“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”
On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”
“Uhh, are we interrupting something?” 
With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you. 
You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“
“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”
“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.
Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”
“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”
Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”
Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?
“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”
Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“
“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”
“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”
The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.
Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”
“Gojoooo….”
Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko. 
“SATORUUUU!!!”
You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.
“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”
“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”
And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two. 
It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.
And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.
 It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.
“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”
“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”
And you two wouldn’t want it any other way. 
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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pseudowho · 6 months
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Post-ShibuyaAU! Grey Nanami Kento Headcanons
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(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)
As an accompaniment to my story, Grey (link here); an AU where Nanami survives Shibuya exploration because I'm never going to be over his loss.
Warnings: Severe injury (burns, eye loss), PTSD, alcohol use, depression, light smut, angst, AU headcanons
Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here
Christmas Greynami Headcanons, link here
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Before he meets you:
AU!Nanami Kento who meanders, severely burned, skin still on fire with agony, with blurred vision to another atrium, thronging with transfigured humans.
AU!Nanami Kento who fights until the end, embracing his death, until Yuuji arrives at the eleventh hour.
AU!Nanami Kento who, despite being healed by Shoko, faces a grisly recovery, forever physically and psychologically scarred by the events of Shibuya.
AU!Nanami Kento who drinks more heavily than ever, trying to scare away the nightmares; waking up in cold sweats, burning alive and screaming.
AU!Nanami Kento who turns viciously on the hierarchy of Jujutsu High, blaming them for sending their staff and students to Shibuya like lambs to the slaughter.
AU!Nanami Kento who hands his notice in shortly after Shibuya; bitterly recognising the monsters of the world in the various forms, wishing to hunt freely without being at the beck and call of Jujutsu High.
AU!Nanami Kento, who embraces the vigilante life, still saving privately earned money for his early retirement.
AU!Nanami Kento with bruises on his thighs, cuts on his hands, because his depth perception fails him in day-to-day activities now .
AU!Nanami Kento who took up the cold-baths-in-your-clothes idea from Higuruma Hiromi, because his burns still prickle so tenderly even after being healed.
AU!Nanami Kento who looks in the mirror once a day and once only, disgusted by what he sees.
AU!Nanami Kento who is still on speed-dial for every student and every assistant at Jujutsu High, who begrudge him nothing, and still love him dearly.
AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't even need to use his Cursed energy to hunt down rapists, murderers and abusers.
AU!Nanami Kento who is informed by Ijichi of the goings-on in the school; where students are sent and when, if anyone is being sent to re-recruit him...which is how he learns you are being sent for him.
AU!Nanami Kento who throws himself into work, isolating himself from the world, bitter and jaded and so desperately lonely.
After he meets you:
AU!Nanami Kento who seduces you when you hunt him down, sensing a kindred spirit, and someone to keep him company even if just for one night.
AU!Nanami Kento who is surprised to wake to see you still there, soft, naked, and pressed against him.
AU!Nanami Kento who almost cries when you press soft kisses over his eye patch, not disgusted, not afraid.
AU!Nanami Kento who treats you like a queen, throwing his whole heart and soul into romancing you, never hesitating in his choice.
AU!Nanami Kento who eventually stops covering himself up at home, exiting the bathroom in just a towel, no eye patch, his good eye smiling softly at you, curled in his shirt on his sofa.
AU!Nanami Kento who re-embraces the music from his teenage years, insisting you listen to MCR, Tool, and Fall out Boy while you cook together, singing along badly, flour everywhere.
AU!Nanami Kento who, the first time he had a vicious nightmare with you in his bed, was ashamed and took himself alone out of the house for a walk in the dead of night.
AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't make it to the door alone the second time; your hand winds in his and you wrap a scarf gently around him, walking arm in arm through the orange glow of the streetlights until he feels calm enough to attempt sleep again.
AU!Nanami Kento who knew he loved you before; but now loves you obsessively, sweetly, deeply.
AU!Nanami Kento who gasps to life in the morning, feeling your warm mouth travel down his scarred abdomen below the covers, groaning in ecstasy as you take him into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair, relearning how to feel joy and pleasure.
AU!Nanami Kento who no longer hides his face in your neck while he rolls his hips gently against yours, drinking in your facial expressions and soft sighs as he takes you to the edge again and again.
AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't let you go to any of your kills alone; he comes with you, protecting you at every turn, but refuses to split your payment with him.
AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't know you've perfected a minor reverse-cursed healing technique, and you use it to heal the eye patch sores on his face while he sleeps.
AU!Nanami Kento who introduces you to Yuuji; Yuuji smiles so widely with pure honest joy, and Kento feels his heart might burst with pride.
AU!Nanami Kento who only semi-ironically considers Nobara a member of the One-Eyed Club, like him. Nobara loves it. She has badges made. Kento has one under his lapel at all points.
AU!Nanami Kento who learns that you always carry aloe-vera gel and a spare eye patch when you go out together, and his heart clenches with appreciation for you.
AU!Nanami Kento who, in return, starts carrying around pads and hair ties for you, but won't carry an umbrella; he knows you always bring one, and you'll be forced to share the same umbrella.
AU!Nanami Kento who loves when you buy clothes for him, choosing good materials and long sleeves which won't irritate his scars.
AU!Nanami Kento who is so proud to walk out of the coffee shop with two coffees and pastries now, instead of the lonely one.
AU!Nanami Kento who falls asleep against you when you wash his hair and tight scars in the bath, and definitely falls asleep with his head in your lap while you massage aloe into his burns.
AU!Nanami Kento who sees kids staring at his eye patch; he kneels down and quietly tells them that he's a pirate, but the good kind.
AU!Nanami Kento who suffers dreadful depression and flashbacks as Halloween approaches the first year you're together; by the second year, he agrees to dress up as the Phantom of the Opera and Christine together.
AU!Nanami Kento who has dinner with Ijichi, Ino, Higuruma and Kusakabe often.
AU!Nanami Kento, who knows Ijichi will always make a Jujutsu High car available for him, even though he's no longer employed by them. Ijichi, who always has Nanami Kento's back, and would fight anyone to the death for him.
AU!Nanami Kento who no longer sees himself as defined by his trauma, but instead as defined by the love you give him, and he gives you in return.
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Sigh. I adore Greynami.
Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here
@silkspunweb My smutty muse, and partner in crime, thank you ❤️
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sonarspace · 23 days
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deception, nanami
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content: mdni. angst. soft sex. breeding kink (? kinda) wc: 1.1k a/n: trying to get out of my writing slump but it’s bad! so here’s this…
𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞
nanami’s laying in your arms when he gets a call from ijichi telling him he needs to be at shibuya in an hour. and instantly you’re being filled with dread. “don’t leave,” you tell him as soon as he hangs up the phone.
but he’s already buttoning up his shirt. you huff a frustrated breath and follow him to the bathroom where he fixes his blonde locks.
“don’t go, please” you try again your voice breaking. his eyes meet yours through the mirror. your lips wobble as a tear escapes the corner of your eye. he turns around his eyes creased in worry. “darling, what’s wrong?” his voice’s sweet and soft dripping honey with every word he speaks.
“i’m scared,” you voice your worries into his chest – wetting his blue shirt with your salty tears. he tilts your face to meet his eyes. you’re quietly sobbing now – eyes red and nose turning a shade darker.
“don’t leave me,” your melancholic voice tugs at his heart. he can’t leave them when they need him the most. “i have to, it’s urgent.” he just says in return. it was hurting him to see you like this. be away from you in this state.
“no, ken, please” you drag out the word. his lips match your downturned lips. he hated not doing what you asked of him but this was different. he had people relying on him – the higher ups, his colleagues, the students, the first years…
he drops his head to yours in defeat. his fingers brush away the tears streaking your cheeks. “take me with you,” you request. “you’re pregnant,” he retorts. “so what, i can protect us,” you argue back. your technique similar to gojo’s, allows you to create an invisible barrier. the only difference was, you could include other people.
“i’m not even sure what’s happening there but i don’t wanna risk your safety.” he says placing his hand on your bump. he feels a light kick against his hand and smiles. “it’ll make you use too much cursed energy, there are too many people there,” he adds. “ken,” you’re about to say but you feel another kick – harder this time. as if telling you to listen to him.
he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. a part of him hurts as he lies “i’ll come back”.
“i love you kid,” he whispers as he places a kiss against your stomach. “i love you,” he tells you. holding your face firmly and placing a kiss against your lips — once, twice, and finally a third time. “i’m going to marry you when i get back,” he murmurs against your lips eliciting a teary laugh from your lips.
“promise,” you ask. “promise”. he vows.
but he doesn’t come back that night. or the night after. and you know it was normal for him to take a day or two for missions but the lack of texts and calls has you crying into his pillow. a text chimes from other side of the room. you get up and move quickly — shoko’s name on your screen. you feel like your heart going to jump out of your throat. this can’t be good.
shoko: i’m so sorry.
and you don’t need to read more cause your worst fear has come true. the phone slips out of your hand and hits the floor with a loud clack. you follow as your knees buckle and a weeping “no” erupts your throat.
you gasp for air through your cries. a set of arms pulls you into a hug. “i’m here, i’m here,” he whispers into your hair. “baby, i’m here.” he says again – louder this time. you calm down slightly pulling away from the embrace to see the face of the man you love so dearly.
“kento,” your voice cracks. a hand reaching up to touch his face. was he real? you feel his freshly trimmed hair prick your fingertips as your trace his face freely. his pink lips that kiss you and mark you like a canvas, his slender nose that nudges against yours playfully, & his brown eyes that never failed to take your breath away. “kento,” you say once again.
“yes, baby.” his eyes twinkle with love for you. “are you real,” you ask hazy from sleep. “i’m real,” he lets out a lighthearted chuckle. “you had another nightmare,” he cups your face and wipes away dried tears from your cheeks.
“i’m here. i’m okay. you’re okay. we’re okay.” he confirms. you sigh against his hand. his cold ring presses against your cheek and you’re reminded you’re married — have been married for a year.
you lay your head on his chest and he rubs your back comfortingly. “i was pregnant in my dream and you weren’t there”. he huffs in return. “and that’s why it’s just a dream. i’d never leave you. much less when you’re pregnant.” you smile into his chest.
“i want a baby,” you say. his body rumbles under yours with joyous laughter. “yeah?” he asks with a grin – his thumb under your chin pulling your face up to face him. “yeah,” you kiss him.
he kisses you back. his hand moves down to your neck – rubbing over your quickening pulse. you pull back and let his oversized button up fall off your shoulders. the slightly opened windows lets in a gentle breeze and hugs your body. the night sky is filled with moving pink clouds.
the sound of salty waves from outside, along with nanami’s gasping moan fills your ears as you lower yourself onto him. “ahhh,” your plushy walls are snug around his cock, making it hard for him to form a coherent thought.
before you can move too much, he flips you over. as much as he loved seeing you on top of him, he loved having you underneath him even more. loved seeing the way your eyes rolled back as he thrusts into you. the way your lips parted in moans and whines of his name.
“ken,” you whimper. he drops his head into your neck. kissing and biting at your soft skin. lolling out his tongue to soothe a bite. you wrap your arms around him. your nails dig into his back as he picks up the pace. the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter at the way his cock pushes against that sweet spot in you – turning your brain to mush and leaving your sentences incomplete.
your legs shake around his waist as you cum with a loud cry of his name. “you sure you want me to fill you up” he asks as you calm down from your orgasm. “filthy girl,” he teases when you nod with his fingers occupying your mouth. a muffled yes is all he needs to dump ropes and ropes of his seed deep into you. he pulls out his fingers from your mouth and replaces it with his tongue.
“we’re gonna make a baby,” he groans happily into your mouth.
𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞
a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!
© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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dyaz-stories · 2 months
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say my name and everything just stops || gojo satoru x reader
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synopsis: You welcome Gojo back after a mission that lasted longer than expected.
(He fucks you on your desk)
word count: 2.6k
genre: canon compliant, smut
cw: porn with some plot, porn with feelings, vaginal sex, fingering, gojo is a tease, light angst, some fluff too, reader is afab, implied fwb, gojo calls reader sensei but they're both teachers
a/n: just a little thing for fun and practice :) enjoy!
more gojo x reader here
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Though the sun is setting outside, you’re still at your desk, dutifully filing paperwork. You’ve dismissed the students a long time ago, of course, but you haven’t left the classroom yet. The door sliding open, though you haven’t heard any footsteps, has you glancing up, on high alert. The worry dissipates right away when you’re met with familiar white hair, a broad grin, and all-black clothing.
“Well, well, sensei,” Gojo Satoru says as he approaches your desk with a nonchalant pace, hands in his pockets, “working late, are we?”
“Gojo,” you reply, eyes back on the paper sheet in front of you. “How was your trip?”
“You know you can just ask Ijichi to do that for you, right?” Gojo continues, now standing in front of your desk. “No need for you to do all that by yourself.”
“Ijichi is busy,” you answer, unperturbed by the way he ignored your question. “You’ve been gone a whole week. Did something go wrong?”
“Aw, sensei,” he coos, “were you worried?”
You put down your pen to look up at him. You’re always worried, obviously. While you’re a teacher at Jujutsu High, the main role you’re expected to fulfill is that of strategist, to better coordinate group actions. You wouldn’t be able to do that without being at least a little paranoid.
It just so happens that you are very paranoid.
Faced with your stare, Gojo’s grin widens.
“Well, I guess they were happy to have me around and they had me fix all the little problems they hadn’t been able to get rid of by themselves,” he tells you with a shrug. “If I didn’t do it, no one was going to, so, might as well get everything taken care of in one go.”
It’s hard not to openly grit your teeth at his words. You’re not thrilled about the way Gojo just gets used and shipped off to wherever the elders deem fit. You and Shoko, on the other hand, are expected to remain caged in the more ‘safe’ properties, all in the name of the greater good. You’re not sure what good it’s doing. You still know better than to say it out loud.
“You stopped by Shoko’s before coming here,” you say. It’s not a question, and his face lights up at it.
“One day, you’re really going to have to tell me how you do that.”
It’s not that hard. A light smell of smoke lingers around him; the last button of his shirt is unbuttoned, likely because of an examination; there’s a pen sticking out of his pocket that you suspect he’s stolen off her desk; and he’s not wearing his usual travel shoes, meaning he changed since coming back to Tokyo, and knowing him, you must have been close to the top of his list of people to see, so you don’t think he went home, so Ichiji must have brought them to him at the lab.
You could easily have been wrong, of course. You just made an educated guess, and it worked out well for you.
“I found something weird out there,” he states matter-of-factly. “Didn’t need any patching up. C’mon, don’t tell me you were worried?”
You roll your eyes and push your chair back to stand up. He should have been back three days ago, and you didn’t hear from him. Not that the way your relationship works means you should have. It explicitly doesn’t.
“We don’t know what kind of curses are out there,” you say. “Anything could happen.”
“Aw,” Gojo says. “But you know I’m the strongest. I can take everything they throw at me.”
He says it with such absolute confidence that you want to believe him blindly, but all your instincts rebel at that idea. You can’t let yourself think he’s invincible. You can’t make your plans based on that idea. There’d be too much to lose if— if—
“With how gloomy you look, it’s hard to think you’re happy to see me,” Gojo pouts. “And here I was, thinking I’d get a warm welcome back…”
You scoff, fighting the smile that wants to break on your face, then make to move past him. You have no intention of actually leaving of course, but you know that—
Of course, the second he thinks you’re getting away from him, he grabs your wrist and twirls you around and into him. His arm wraps around your waist smoothly, presses your chest against his.
“Really? You’re not even a little bit happy?” He says it lightly, but you don’t miss the very light twinge of annoyance in his voice.
You like to think that you are one of the few people that can get a rise out of him.
It goes both way, of course, but now that you’re in his arms, after a week without touching him, anger and fear melt away all too easily, and all you want is him.
You put both of your arms around his neck, and push yourself on your tiptoes to capture his lips. There is a second during which he remains still, as if unsure, no matter how unlike him that would be. It’s like you don’t have him back yet, like there’s a part of him, of his mind, that is still out there with the curses.
But the moment passes, and then he’s kissing you feverishly. He pushes you back until you hit your desk, then helps lift you on top of it. The papers you’ve filled so dutifully fall to the floor, but he doesn’t care and neither do you. His warm tongue meets yours and you feel small moans escaping you, which he swallows hungrily. One of his hands sneaks under your shirt, the other pushes up your long skirt as he lifts up one of your legs, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.
You burry your hand in his hair, try to pull him closer to you, because fuck, you’ve missed him, you’ve missed the weight of his body on yours, and you want him, you need him to be as close as possible. He groans inside your mouth, and when your other hand moves down to trace his jaw, his neck, the muscles of his shoulders, before trying to unbutton his shirt, it turns into a full whimper.
Unfortunately, that sound also brings you back to reality, and while your body is an inferno right now, you feel your cheeks heating up even more.
“Wait, wait, Gojo—”
“Satoru,” he almost growls. Now that you’re trying to speak, he presses open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, sucking and biting lightly at the skin.
“Satoru,” you whine, left with no strength nor desire to fight him on that, “we shouldn’t— students could—”
“They’ve gone home,” he dismisses your worries easily. “None of them are going to show up here at this time.”
He’s hooking his fingers in your panties now, trying to slide them down your legs, but you catch his arm first. You’re quite the spectacle, breathless and panting, clothes half off. Even then, there’s that serious light in your eyes that just has him weak in the knees.
“Yaga— Yaga could—”
“If you think about it, that’d be doing him a favor,” Satoru hums. “Would give him some really, really good material, if you ask me.”
He doesn’t add that the material in question is all his, and that he’d never let Yaga catch you in the act, just for that reason. He doesn’t have to, because his answer makes you laugh softly.
You always laugh for him.
“He better not find us,” you warn him, as your grasp on his arm relaxes.
“Hm, that shouldn’t be a problem, as long as a certain someone can keep quiet…”
You roll your eyes, and then you pull him back down against your lips to interrupt his laugh.
He manages to get your panties out of the way, and then pushes a long finger inside you. You’re already so wet for him, he marvels as it slides in easily. He soon follows it with a second one, spreading you open carefully, and that’s when you throw your head back, closing your eyes and pushing your hand against your mouth to muffle your moan.
“So you’ve really missed me, huh?” he can’t help but tease as he chases your mouth. He’d love nothing more than to hear you loud and clear, but he knows you won’t risk it, no matter how empty the school is right now.
Underneath him, your body trembles, and he can’t resist any longer. He pulls his blindfold out of the way, drinking in the most beautiful sight he’s ever beholden. You’re trying your best not to let the pleasure get to you, but even then, you manage to open an eye to look at him, and you’re met with the stunning blue eyes you wish you could see more often. Something softens inside you, and you reach up to touch his cheek.
“Of course I’ve missed you,” you answer.
Shit. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. He’s already rock hard and all he’s done is rock against you. He wanted to take his time with you tonight, because all he’s had the past week is the memory of you, and that’s nowhere near enough, but it’s not looking like he will last that long.
“Yeah?” he insists as his thumb finds your clit and he starts rubbing carefully. “Thought about me while I was gone?”
You let out a loud cry, manage to cover your mouth again before another one comes out. Your thighs are trembling around him, and fuck, he’s going to have to fuck you real soon, otherwise he’s just going to burst in his pants without you even touching him, at this point.
“I’ve thought of you,” he tells you as he pulls his fingers out of you to get rid of his pants. “Thought of how good you feel around me, of how good you sound for me, of how pretty you are when you’re bouncing on my cock…”
He guides his cock against your entrance, presses it against you. You buck your hips, unable to stop yourself, but he doesn’t give it to you, not just yet.
“You really want it that bad, don’t you?” he practically purrs.
“Satoru,” you whine, and oh, if you knew what it does to him when you say his name like that… “don’t make me b— Ah!”
Finally satisfied, he sheathes himself fully inside of you, and fuck, it’s all he’s been dreaming of for days now. Next time he swears he’ll come running back to you the second he’s done with the stupid assignment. You reach up for him and he lets you, lets you dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you bury your face in his neck to stifle your moans. His hips set up a lazy pace at first, and you try your best to follow, try to meet him with small movements of your own, before you feel his breath against your ear.
“It’s all good,” he says warmly. “Just let me take care of you, babe. I’ve got you.”
That’s when he picks up the pace, and you’re left to writhe underneath him, whimpering his name desperately against his skin like a prayer, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru!
You come, shaking, around him when he brings his fingers to your clit once more, and he doesn’t lose a second of it. The high-pitched moan that you just can’t hold in, the way your head falls back, how your thighs shake on either side of him, it’s all so perfect. You’re perfect.
He does his best to let you ride your orgasm on his cock, but he comes inside you just a couple seconds later, unable to last longer. He collapses on top of you, and your labored breathing fills the room. Your hand on his back moves gently, tracing circles on the nape of his neck, gently running through his hair.
“If you’re not down for a round two just yet, I recommend you stop that,” he mumbles against you, only to regret it immediately, because you do stop.
“We should— we should take this elsewhere,” you say quietly.
Ah, now that’s more like it.
“I can call Ichiji and we could do that in the back of the car on the way home,” he offers cheerfully as he gets up, putting the blindfold back in place, though not before he can see you grimace in horror at his suggestion.
“Absolutely not,” you say firmly, though once more, he was only teasing. He’d never let Ichiji see you like that. “Although, if you could call someone to come clean up in here, just, uh, just in case…”
Cute.
“Done. Now, about that round two…”
“Else. Where,” you insist, and you don’t fall for his cute pout.
He sighs but takes your hand to help you to your feet, then turns around as he pulls out his phone. He’s about to hit Ichiji’s number when your fingers on his skin almost bring a shiver out of him.
“Shouldn’t this be healing?” you ask, frowning, and he realizes you’re talking about the marks you’ve left on his back.
“Nah, I quite like them, actually,” he grins back. “Don’t you?”
There’s a lot of unsaid things that hang between the two of you. A lot of things that are better left unsaid. Sadly, you’re too smart for your own good, and you know better. You leave them be.
“I was worried for you,” is what do you say.
Satoru’s expression shifts. The grin vanishes, and you can’t see his eyes, so you’re not sure how he’s feeling, not until the corner of his lips lift up in a soft smile.
“Thank you,” he says, voice uncharacteristically low.
Then he turns away from you, and he’s as loud and boisterous as ever when Ichiji answers.
Of course. The strongest can’t let himself grow soft.
You bend down to pick up your papers, rearrange them neatly on the desk, eyes still on him, on the animated way he moves around the room.
You think you’re more grateful than he knows, for him being back here. Not because he’s the strongest, not because no one gets rid of a curse like he can, but because he’s Satoru. It’s probably better that way, though. You’re both too busy for distractions.
With a sigh, you put your papers back on the desk, then start moving towards the exit.
“Aren’t we going?” you ask Satoru right as you’re reaching the door.
You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows.
“Hope you wrote all that down, ‘cause I need to get out of here,” he says on the phone, and you hear Ichiji protest, but that doesn’t stop Satoru from hanging up unceremoniously. He follows you in the hallway, shoulders brushing against yours without quite touching.
“Hey, if not in the car, there’s a supply closet on the first floor—”
“No.”
“Yaga’s office is probably—”
“Absolutely not.”
“How about in my bed?” he asks, right against your ear, breath tickling against your skin. Your cheeks heat up.
“…Sure.”
He only savors his victory for a second.
“What about the couch?”
“Don’t push it.”
But he does, and you let him.
How could you not, when you finally have him back?
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still trying to get used to writing gojo's character, don't know if i quite have him just yet. i hope you enjoyed this, any feedback you have is welcomed and encouraged! reblogs and comments are what keeps me writing, so please engage with my work to let me know if you'd like to see more~
if you enjoy my writing, you can find more gojo x reader here
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sauteedapple · 23 days
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THE INK IS STILL DRYING
Marriage is hard work! I mean, I wouldn't know but that's what I hear. I wish you all prosperous relationships.
The jjk characters during your divorce!
Part 1 Including: Gojo, Nanami, Yaga, Yuki, Shoko, Kashimo, Ijichi & Kusakabe Part 2 Including: Geto, Toji, Choso, Ino, Higuruma, Sukuna, Uraume, Shiu & Utahime
CW: DIVORCE & SEPARATION (children of divorce, close your eyes), angst, talk of IVF/embryos, profanity, jealousy, insulting language, allusions to addiction, drunk texting, tiniest bit of fluff.
A/N: I imagined these were texts you would get during your separation with the characters. So, you're not divorced entirely! Yet.
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
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© All rights reserved to @sauteedapple on tumblr.com. ANY(INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO)DISTRIBUTIONS, TRANSLATIONS AND PLAGIARISMS OF @sauteedapple's WORKS BY OTHER PARTIES ARE PROHIBITED.
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daisiescomelate · 3 months
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Bad bad wolf
Prompt: Gojo accidentally scared you during a mission and now he's begging you to open the bathroom door and let him talk to you.
Content: Gojo/Reader, angst, cursing, ooc.
div. plutism - masterlist
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It was an accident. You knew that. A curse got too close to harm you and he snapped for a second, letting go of his goofy attitude and showing you a side of him that you had yet to meet. He checked in with you, he double checked, and then he triple checked, worried about you being injured or scared of the situation or... him.
You told him you were fine, that it was all good, you were just in shock still —about the curse, of course. You just needed a shower. So he cared your cheek and kissed your palm and drove you home so you could take your bath.
But now you couldn't bring yourself to open the bathroom door.
You rubbed your face and tried to stop your mind from derailing.
I mean, c'mon!
Gojo Satoru was a prophecy made flesh, he was the most powerful sorcerer in Japan, maybe the world. Of course that meant he was dangerous, that he was lethal. I mean hell, you were lethal and your curse technique wasn't even that good.
And you knew Satoru was an asshole with a loose moral compass, and that his silliness was more of a tool of provocation and manipulation than anything else.
But it was different— to actually see it.
Raw power.
Cold blood murder in his eyes and a maniac smile.
A snap of his fingers and life just... vanished as far as the eye could see.
The joy he got from it.
But for God’s sake! It was Satoru. Kisses on your forehead Satoru. Fart jokes Satoru. Pouty lips for cuddles Satoru.
The meaner thing he had ever done to you was putting salt on your coffee as a prank because you weren't the first person to wish him happy birthday! He had never lifted a finger against you. Then why were you so scared?!
The doorbell rang and you heard the front door opening and closing. Satoru began singing some made up lyrics about chinese food that included a falsetto. You heard him walk up to the bathroom door and knock on it, a smile on his voice.
"Babe, food is here!" he said.
You were wrapped on a towel, damped, looking straight into the mirror and trying to calm yourself down. Satoru, it's just Satoru. What's your problem?
His voice echoed on the tile of the room and on your temples. You were suddenly too aware of the water drops falling from the shower head and the cold, wet floor under your feet.
"You have been there forever, babe. Everything alright?"
I'm not ready.
Just breath.
You walked to the door, counting to ten in your head. Just go and open it, you will be fine. He will hug you and everything will be fine.
I want Satoru.
As you extended your hand to the handle, it shaked slightly, catching you off guard. You inhaled sharply and quickly moved to hold it in place.
"I'm alright", you said quickly, a little bit too aggressive even— maybe? Shit, it was an accident, I’m sorry. "I'm fine," you added, trying to be softer this time, "just give me a minute, love. I'll be right out."
"Mmm? Of course, baby."
You heard his footsteps getting away from the door and the clatter of the dishes as he probably set the table for you two. He continued to talk to you through the door.
“Ijichi is already messaging me about another assignment.” He sighed dramatically. “I never get a break, what would these people do without me?”
You heard him turn on the TV and lower the volume to keep it in the background as you liked it.
“One of these days we should ditch them and go on a vacation. What do you think? Fall off the map for a month or two, that would do wonders for my back! We could go to the beach~” Satoru kept walking around, you heard the rustling of clothes as he took off his uniform and put on something clean. “Drink cocktails under the sunset~”, he continued, his voice fading as he left to another room and increasing back again when he returned to the living room area.
“I’ll ask Nanamin to take care of my assignments, he still owes me a favor or two.” You heard the sound of Satoru opening one of his wine bottles.
His voice, that you often found so silly and even sweet, suddenly felt as if it carried a layer of an uncovered threat.
You noticed that you were shaking slightly.
You tried to repress it, sing to yourself, and tell yourself a joke, but nothing had any effect and your legs became weak; you sat on the toilet to prevent yourself from falling.
Time passed, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour. Satoru had run out of conversation and had fallen into silence. The wait must have been long enough, since the next thing you heard was Satoru right behind the door again.
“Pumpkin pie, I don’t mean to hurry you but dinner is going to get cold!”
You stayed still, hugging yourself to try and find some comfort. Your whole body felt like freezing, and you pinched your skin in a nervous tic without realizing.
"Do you need help with anything? Is it your hair? Do you want me to help you dry it, love?"
Your breathing picked up, an anxious feeling kept bubbling under your skin, making your body suddenly uncomfortable. There was a hint of something in his voice but because of your now rising panic it was hard for you to decipher what it was.
Wasn't the bathroom a little bit too small? Is there really no other way out of here other than that stupid door? Do people hate proper windows on bathrooms that much?
"Love?"
You turned around and glanced at the mirror.
Why are you freaking out?
"Babe?"
You heard the doorknob again and the bathroom door unlocking.
Out of reflex, you slammed it close again.
Silence.
The longest minute.
"Do you need a towel?” Satoru’s voice was oddly cheerful in an awkward attempt to ignore what you just did. “Is that why you don't want me to come in?", he asked, even if he had walked on you naked several times already and that had never been a problem between you two.
Your tongue was too heavy to speak.
"I'm going to go fetch you a towel, okay baby? Be right back."
You felt like crap. You felt like shit. You felt like you couldn't breathe.
Were you really making that big of a deal out of this?
You were embarrassed. You were scared. You wanted to leave. Open the door, push Satoru to one side and bolt. Leave this house.
"I'm back with the towel!" Satoru sang.
It was hard for you to stay quiet, it was hard for you to keep your lungs filled with air, your breathing should be audible now even at the other side of the door.
"Love?"
Your eyes were tearing up.
Satoru paused waiting for an answer but you couldn't mutter any.
"Baby, I'm going in." His tone deeper, not wanting to play his usual façade anymore. He tried pushing the door open again. You pushed your whole weight against it to keep it close.
A hiccup.
No.
No, no, no. Be quiet.
You bit your lip.
Love, please just give me a moment. You prayed to yourself.
A ruffling sound, then he knocked twice.
"Baby, what's wrong, would you let me in, please?", he asked softly.
Please, just wait. Why can’t you wait until I’m ready?
"I'm okay!" You repeated. "Just give me a second."
On the other side Satoru heard your voice tremble.
Fuck.
He buried his hands on his hair and pulled.
Fuck.
He knew he should have kept bothering you about it. You still looked like you were in shock, you were still clearly processing what had happened.
Earlier that day he was told about a case he had to look into. It was a silly little curse, they said, but because there was no one else available they asked Satoru to go, and because he wanted to take you out on a whim, he called you to come along with him.
He was so busy playing around with the weird looking thing, putting on a show for you, that he didn’t notice anything odd about it until later on.
It had the general shape of a human except with longer arms and legs. It moved slowly so as not to lose its balance because of its long limbs. In a rush of excitement as your eyes were glued to him, he moved around it and used his flashiest kicks and punches. He was usually childish for the fun of it, but knowing how much it made you laugh, sometimes it got to his head and turned him actually stupid.
He was more aware of where you were and where you were looking at than he was aware of the curse. He noticed that something was about to go wrong from your expression first rather than by seeing it by himself.
When he turned his head around to look back at the curse it had doubled in size. He was in a jump midair and trying to process what was happening, it took him a second longer to realize that it had suddenly launched at you two with greater strength. At that moment, he was in an awkward position to stop it and whatever move he made would be delayed by a fraction.
He saw it as it happened in slow motion.
It was something outside of your league.
It was suddenly so much faster and wilder, nothing like the slow guy he had been dancing around a second ago.
It noticed the difference in power and you being the most vulnerable of the two.
You and Satoru were separated by a considerable distance. Its form morphed once again. It moved forward, opening a mouth full of raiser teeth, and splitted into two. One half moved in Satoru’s direction and tried to corner him, and the other— jumped aiming at your throat.
Satoru saw red.
When he came back to himself, the woods burned and there was a gaping hole on the earth where the curse had been. He turned around to ask you if you were okay, and as soon as he did his blood went cold. Your eyes were wide open, one hand covering your mouth, the other holding your stomach. Horror.
He was no stranger to that look. Many people looked at him as if he were a monster after they realized what he could do with so little effort. He enjoyed it, sometimes. He didn’t care most of the time. But now he realized he had made a terrible mistake.
Truth be told, when you came about he started to be a little wary of it. He wasn’t hiding it, his reputation preceded him, you were meant to find out about it sooner or later. He was just more cautious. He tried to not overdo it anymore, especially in front of you; he would make up excuses so you couldn’t come with him to certain missions and he would keep a close eye on the noisiest pair of elders so they wouldn’t run their mouths in front of you.
After you came into his life, the title of the strongest was more annoying than ever. Hunting, even. It caught your interest, it always caught everyone’s interest, but how many could look at him the same before and after witnessing what it actually meant?
His heart beated heavily on his chest.
He untangled his fingers from his hair, clearing the lump on his throat, making sure to keep his tone non-threatening.
“I’m not going to open it, baby. You can come out when you’re ready. I will sit right here, yeah?”
Nothing.
Satoru pressed his eyes closed, thinking full speed what he should do next. He was surprised by the rush of adrenaline that embedded his system. His body was instinctively ready to kick the door open but he held himself back. He had to keep a cool head, he needed to avoid scaring you further.
Think.
A sob came out from the bathroom.
No. No, please, don’t cry.
“Love, please. Let me give you a hug. Open the door for me.”
He had been too careless. He needed to apologize properly. He needed to see you and reassure you that he loved you more than anything and he would never hurt you. But at the same time –he realized– he was scared to see that same expression on your face again.
He held both hands to each side of the door frame, letting his head fall. What you two had was still fragile, it was still too early for a problem this size.
He was scared.
He had no right to try to hold you back just yet when this didn't even have a name. He was sure he wanted to keep you with him, he had known for a long time before he approached you to ask for a first date.
It was delicate.
Gojo Satoru was a god, they named him that and so stripped him away from his humanity; like so, he grew up empty. He was scared you could see that, how far away he was from human.
It was dangerous, for you and for him since no matter how many people talked about the lengths of his powers he came to know by experience that there were many things he could still not reach nor control. So many people wanted so much from him, and he attracted so many others with ill intents. On his darkest night he felt the strings that picked at his skin, holding to his limbs. An all powerful puppet.
But he met you and he was fool enough to think he could try.
He placed his hand against the door and called your name in a whisper.
“Please, please, open the door, love.”
But could he really let you go without giving a fight if you rejected him?
“I'm sorry. Please give me another chance. Please talk to me.”
Could he fight this greed that grew on his chest everytime he was around you?
“I would never, ever hurt you–”
His voice cracked.
He felt pathetic.
The reporter talking on TV warned the public of intense rains to come, and the most powerful sorcerer felt his eyes prickling and gritted his teeth.
Around you he didn't feel like the titan that people talked about and recoiled from. He was the Satoru that had been lost along the halls of the Gojo estate as a little kid, and the Satoru that was healed and held before he lost half of his soul later on. He felt complete again. Person again.
But what if he lost all of it. Again. Because of all his power. Again.
His head fell forward as the door opened, just an inch, taking him by surprise. Your eye picked through the crack, your cheek was covered in tears.
He blinked and stared, feeling his heart break by seeing you like this.
“Hello.” He said, a lame attempt to break the silence.
“I'm fine, I promise.” Your voice trembled on every word.
He sighed painfully.
Satoru straightened his posture and held a hand to the door. You visibly trembled and gave a step back, you looked like you wanted to protest but didn't say anything.
He opened the door completely and stepped into the bathroom. You followed his every move with your eyes, you tried to fight back the worst of your instincts, the ones that told you that this man could always do as he wished with you and you wouldn't be able to escape it.
He moved his arms up and you guessed he was going to go for a hug. It was hard for you to reciprocate just now, so instead you closed your eyes and nodded, to let him know it was okay.
But you didn't expect to be hugged by the waist, his head on your stomach.
You opened your eyes with confusion. Satoru was kneeling over the bathroom floor, hugging your legs with his head buried on your towel.
“I swear” he said in all seriousness, “I will never hurt you.”
He squished a little bit more, almost making you fall out of balance.
“I swear”, he repeated.
You felt his desperate grip, and as his fear sinked in, your's wavered, and you could finally feel how truly wrong you were about fearing this man.
“Satoru…” you called.
“Mhmm?” He said but didn't look up the way you wanted to so you could see his dazzling eyes.
You buried one hand in his silk hair and carefully ran your fingers through it. “Love, look at me.”
He refused, pressing his face harder against you.
You kneeled instead. There were you, with your face covered in tears with nothing but a towel, and Satoru with wet sweatpants on the damped floor and refusing to let you see him. You hugged him and felt his heart beating fast against his chest matching your's.
“I am the one who is sorry.” You whispered.
He held you with all his strength, almost leaving you out of air.
“I believe you. I don't know why I reacted that way. But I promise I believe you and that won't happen again.”
His breath shook against the skin of your neck. You run your fingers along his nape, reassuring him. He nodded and kissed your neck before ultimately raising his head and looking at you.
There were no tears but his eyes shined brighter. You held his face with both hands and brought him down so your noses would touch. The way he looked at you with those eyes, as if you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. You saw it clear as day, you had nothing to fear.
You moved closer so your lips would touch just slightly, “I love you, Satoru”, you said.
“I love you too”, he whispered.
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satorusugurugurl · 3 months
Note
I hope this does not give too much pressure, but I have a request? I LOVED LOVED the fanfic about satosugu and reader with them being very, very rough after a tough work project/trip. Then I thought about it being a angsty?? Love a good angst
This is your account so it’s completely up to you to write or not!! I was thinking that after a while SatoSugu have another rough week. When the come back, the don’t immediately take it out through sex. Instead, they just bottle it up. Reader tries to comfort them about it but they ignore her or act snappy. Reader isn’t a pushover, but she is very understanding and patient. She lets them be mean, (it still hurt though) and just stays calm. She also had her own rough week while they were gone, but she doesn’t really show it. When they come back angry, she was hoping to forget her pain with them, but she only got their cold shoulder and words.
The next day when she comes home from another rough workday, she notices that they seemed to still be angry and agitated from their work trip. They suggest she take the next two days off, and she immediately knew what was coming. (Full consent given from her) She was feeling sensitive from her own turmoil/stress and the duo’s coldness, but she didn’t think too much of it.
While the roughness did feel good at first, it slowly became too much. They were too rough, far too rough. Their harsh words hurt. Their harsh hands hurt. The rope/ribbon hurt. Everything hurt, but was she overreacting? She was scared of disappointing them and ruining the mood I guess. She tried to look alright, but her cries slowly let out from the pain and emotional hurt.
They noticed it… Reader apologizes, but the duo is like, “Um no why are YOU sorry? This is on US.” SatoSugu realize their mistake and take care her mwah!! It was just a small dump, I’m so so sorry! As much as I LOVE writing, I’ll never be too confident enough to put this out. Even if I were to, writing styles will always be different. (Plus, I love the way other people write, just like yours!!)
Sorry it’s so so long!
- Moni Anon (first time requesting… kind of shy)
Shock
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, FAB!Reader
Pairing: SatoSugu X FAB!Reader
Word Count: 2,659
Warnings: Blood, death, shock, nightmares, PTSD, rough sex, choking, riding crop, shibari, degradation, emotional breakdown, crying, aftercare
A/N: I loved this request! Angst is like some of my favorite stuff to write! 🥲 I love a good sad story.
Part One
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The morgue was cold. But it wasn't as cold as your hands. You stood at the sink, scrubbing at them with soap and water. You hadn't realized the hot water had been running so long; it had turned icy cold. But you had to keep scrubbing them because you could still feel the tacky blood coating them.
Their blood, their blood that was hot and flowed through your fingers when you tried to stop the bleeding. Blood that stained your clothes. The blood is quite literally on your hands.
You tried, tried so damn hard to save the assistant supervisor who was with you on your mission. The information the higher-ups had given you was wrong. The curse you had exorcized wasn't the only one lingering in the building. There had been two, and after the first was taken care of, you and the assistant supervisor were headed out. The second curse attacked. Slicing at you, you had barely managed to dodge it. Getting cut on the cheek. The young woman, however, had her blood splattered on the concrete.
After the other spirit was dealt with, you rushed to her side. She cried as you tried to tell her she would be okay as you called for Ijichi. But the cut was too deep; she lost too much blood, and you watched the light fade from her eyes. Leaving you alone, stained with her blood.
Your mind snapped out of the bloody memory as someone turned the water off. They gently grabbed your hands, drying them off, pulling you out of the trance you were in. Shoko eyes you before gently leading you to the chairs lining the walls, ushering you to sit down. Reluctantly, you listened, plopping down and looking at your hands.
“I'm going to call Satoru and Suguru to tell them what's happened.”
Your head jerked up, “N-No, don't do that. I’m fine!” Shoko shook her head, leaning against the wall. “Shoko, please, really, I’m fine, I swear.”
“Y/N, I left ten minutes ago. You were washing your hands then, and I found you still washing them? You're in shock; I can't let you leave like this.”
“Please, I don't want to bother them. They just got back from a rough mission.”
“And you didn't?”
Your friend's words were searing into you like hot needles. She was right in a sense; you had just gotten back from a rough mission, but so had your boyfriends. They were gone for a week. Having to travel overseas to deal with several grade-one curses. The two of them handled it, taking down the curse users with them. But when they got home this morning, they headed to the room jet lagged and annoyed over each other, claiming they needed space and sleep.
If Shoko called them, they would be more irritable. You wanted them to get as much rest as they could. They worked their asses off. You being in shock was a minimal issue to involve them in. You would be okay—eventually.
“Y/N, I’m not comfortable letting you go home alone,” Shoko repeated, sitting on one of the chairs beside you.
“Okay, what about Yaga or Nanami then?”
You were so thankful that Shoko agreed with your proposition that Ijichi drove you and Nanami back to your house. Nanami was quiet the whole time, stealing the occasional glance at you, watching as you stared at your hands. It wasn't until Ijichi parked in front of your house that Nanami cleared his throat, catching your attention.
“I think you need to take a couple of days off.” His glasses gleamed. “I'm going to talk to Yaga about it. You're in no state to work right now. You need time to process what happened.”
Swallowing hard, you opened the door to the car. “I appreciate your concern, Nanami, but I’ll be okay.” You attempted to give him your best smile. “I got this.” The look on your friend's face screamed that he knew you were lying.
“Regardless of your ploy to fool me or downplay how much you're hurting, I will still talk to Principal Yaga.”
“And I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks again, Nanami.”
You waved the car off before rubbing Your still-freezing hands together. Things would be better once you got inside. Satoru and Suguru were back, and you could relax, forget about work, and just be together.
As you approached the door, Satoru came out, black sunglasses on as he shut the door. “Oh, hi Satoru, welcome home!” You put on your best smile, approaching him.
“Hi, I'm heading out.” His tone was sharp and as cold as your hands.
“You’re not staying here?”
He pulled his sunglasses down, revealing his blue eyes. “No, I need to get out. Suguru is driving me insane. I’m going shopping.” He waved you off as if dismissing you.
“Oh, well, if you give me a few minutes, I could go with you?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way.” He kept walking, not even looking back at you. “I don’t wanna be around either of you right now.”
Ouch, that stung. But you just gave him a weak smile before heading inside. “Be safe.”
Alright, so Satoru needed some space, but Suguru might be in a better mood. Heading towards his room, you knocked and waited for him to respond. Only he didn’t. Your stomach twisted in knots as you hit again, a little harder this time.
A loud groan sounded behind the door before you listened to the floorboards creaking. The door flung open, and Suguru cocked an eyebrow as he eyed you. He looked exhausted and pissy, but he didn’t say anything as he glared at you.
“W-Welcome home.”
“Mhm.”
“Uhm, Satoru left. Do you wanna watch a movie or get something to eat?”
Suguru shook his head, dark streams of hair falling in his face. “No.” Your cold fingers twitched as you took a deep breath. Just as you opened your mouth, Suguru sighed, jabbing his thumb against the center of his forehead. “Y/N, please, I don’t have the patience or energy to entertain you. Please go away.” The door slammed in your face, leaving you staring at the wood grain in stunned silence.
Okay, well, that was unexpected. When the boys came back from a mission like this, you all usually had sex, taking the aggression out in the rawest way you could. This cold shoulder attitude was something new. Alien and strange, making my stomach ache.
After last week and especially today, you hoped to spend time with them. Snuggling them, forgetting about the horrors you had witnessed. Instead, you have a door in your face.
Nothing you could say or do to change their minds and attitudes. Everyone dealt with anger, stress, and exhaustion in their ways. Theirs happened to be wanting to spend time by themselves. Which was perfectly fine, but they could have at least been a bit nicer about it.
You spent the entirety of your night in your room after a hot shower. You lay there hugging your pillow as you stared blankly at the wall. Every time you started to doze off, you would see blood splattering the floor, hear wheezed, gurgled breathing, and see the light fade from that poor girl's eyes. You hardly slept at all, restlessly tossing and turning.
You were relieved when your alarm went off, ushering you to start your day. You got ready, and not once did you see your partners. Both doors to their rooms shut. Neither one came out to see you off, making your stomach turn.
At work, you put on a smile, trying to joke with the first and second years, but everyone could see your fragile state. From the dark circles under your eyes to how you disassociated during training. So you weren’t surprised when Principal Yaga came into your classroom and told you that you would be taking the next week off.
“You need to focus on recovering. If you need more time, call me.”
His words hummed in your ears all the way home. How pathetic were you? Allowing a young girl to be killed. A mandatory week off of work, and on top of all that, your partners were pissy and avoiding you. This, indeed, was one of the lowest two days of your life. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt this lowly, lost in the dark.
“I’m home.” You announced as you entered the house. Not expecting a response since both of them weren’t up when you left.
“Y/N,” Satoru said as you felt him press against your back. “Need you to do us a favor.”
Your body tensed as a blindfold was placed over your eyes. “You’ll need to call out of work for the next few days,” Suguru added as hands groped your breasts.
“Yeah, not a problem.”
They needed this, and if it would mean they felt better, that you could focus on pleasure, you’d gladly do what they wanted. And what they wanted was rough carnal sex. The type of sex that hard blue ropes digging into your wrists, bound behind your back. Intricate shibari dug into your chest, your breasts being squeezed. Everything felt so good, but it was so tight it almost hurt.
Your mouth was wrapped around Satoru’s cock. He was fucking your throat, yanking your hair painfully as he moaned as Suguru fucked you from behind. With every other thrust, Suguru slapped the leather riding crop over your ass. Your cries around Satoru’s cock had them both groaning.
“What a fuckin’ slut.” Satoru whined out, thrusting deeper down your throat, making you gag.
Suguru smacked the crop harder against you. “A dirty fuckin’ slut.” Another smack, followed by another, and it just kept going and going.
You cried around Gojo harder as Suguru continued his whipping behind you. “M-Mmm!”
“Mmm~?” Satoru mocked you. “Fuckin’ pathetic.” His cock hit the back of your throat painfully. Making your tears stain the blindfold as Suguru’s pace picked up.
“Pathetic whiny bitch in heat.” The crop hit your other cheek. “Absolutely pathetic”
You weren’t sure what hurt more. The crop and their cold, harsh words. They were never this mean. Calling you pathetic hurts because that’s who you saw yourself for the last few days. The ropes began to sting like your eyes; more tears stained the blindfold. You could handle this; they should be done soon; they needed this.
You couldn’t save that girl; the least you could do was help your boyfriends feel better.
“Pathetic worthless girl~ all you’re good for is this.” Gojo yanked your hair, and you saw splatters of blood. You were worthless at that moment.
A sharp sting from the riding crop. “Yeah, a good-for-nothing slut. All you’re good for is being our personal cock sleeve.” Good for nothing, yeah, you just let that girl die.
“Fucking stupid bitch.” The dark-haired man watched as Satoru’s face scrunched up in pleasure. “You're going to make him cum.” Long fingers trailed under the twisted ropes, yanking them hard. “That’s all you’re good for bitch.”
The ropes burned, digging into your flesh. Slicing into you like—like the girl you let die.
Suguru was the first to notice something was wrong. Your hands were pale. They trembled along with the rest of your body. He tossed the riding crop to the side, his dark eyes focusing on his white-haired boyfriend, who was still in utter bliss.
“Satoru.” His voice wasn’t filled with the same heated lust from before, and you noticed. “Stop, pull out.”
Satoru was about to complain, but as he peered at Suguru with half-lidded eyes, he knew he was serious. He listened to both of them pulling out of your mouth and pussy, watching as you coughed and gagged before those gags turned into wretched sobs. You curled in on yourself, sobbing louder. Images of blood, the morgue table, and blood spinning down a sink flashed through your mind.
The boys jumped into action instantly. They removed the blindfold and the bindings around you, allowing you to curl into a fetal position. They watched your trembling body before looking at each other, mentally asking the other what they should do. But it was you who spoke first.
“I-I’m sorry!” A broken cry sounded from the back of your throat.
Satoru gently pulled you into his arms, leaning against the bed's headboard. You sobbed into his chest while Suguru gently rubbed your back. Both of them were silent as you cried two days’ worth of pain out. Guilt seeped into the muscles and none of your body, for the assistant supervisor, for ruining the mood, for being so weak.
“Don’t. Please don’t apologize,” Suguru whispered, leaning down and kissing your cheek. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“This is on us. We went way too far.” Satoru added his hands, gently massaging your shoulders.
You babbled into his chest as your other hand grabbed Suguru’s, holding it tight. “I-I messed up this week! And now this!” You could feel both of their muscles tensing at your words.
“What do you—”
“Mean you messed up?”
The events of yesterday spewed out of you like a water fountain. You sobbed, going over the details while both men gently caressed and listened to you in silence. The moment you finished spilling out your guts, Satoru and Suguru shared a look.
“And I didn’t make it any better.” You sniffled, looking up at Satoru. Ivory cheeks were flushed as he ran his hand through his hair. “Telling you I didn’t want to be near you.”
Suguru let out a cold, harsh chuckle. “I wasn’t any better. I told Y/N I didn’t have the time nor the patience to entertain her.” You hummed, relaxing against the duo, feeling more calm than you had in the last twenty-four hours.
“Then we were too rough. I feel like a total dick
“Same here,” Suguru planted a kiss on your shoulder, his hand gently rubbing your arm. “What can we do to make it up to you?”
“I’m honestly so tired. I just want to snuggle in bed.”
Your request wasn’t ignored. They both got up; Suguru changed the sheets and picked up Satoru’s room. While you stood under the hot water in the shower, Satoru gently washed your hair. Long fingers massaging your scalp before the curtain opened and Suguru stepped in behind you. Their hands gently slid over your slicked skin. Washing, massaging, and worshiping you.
Their sweet caresses made your eyes heavier as the tense, sore muscles relaxed. While you longed to take care of their needs most of the time. Being held like this, sandwiched between the two strongest sorcerers in the world, made you feel safer. With them at your side, you knee deep down in your gut that everything would be okay.
After the most relaxing shower you’d ever taken was over, you slid on your pajamas before crawling into bed, collapsing into the plush mattress and expensive Egyptian silk sheets. Satoru crawled in with you as Suguru pulled you to rest on his chest while Satoru spooned you. Their hands were so soft and gentle. Their fingers and warm palms were like your own personal lullaby.
“Shh,” Suguru hushed, “we got you.”
Satoru nodded against your shoulder and the crook of your neck. “You can rest. If you have a nightmare, we’ll be beside you.” Satoru grabbed one hand as Suguru grabbed the other.
“Rest.”
The warmth of their hands in yours had your cold hands finally returning to normal. Sometimes, days could be terrible. Making you question everything you do. You were happy to know your boyfriends would be there to help bring some of the light back into your life. That was something you would firmly be able to stand by and defend, especially when their arms were wrapped so tightly around you.
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irisintheafterglow · 1 month
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he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger)
summary: married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.
wc: 1k
cw/tags: mentions of violence, blood, and deaths (nothing graphic), mild angst/comfort with happy ending, some swearing, yes this is the albatross coded
note: honestly not sure where this came from! was just listening to ttpd and thought about what being married to gojo realistically would be like (aka always being targeted as his weakness that it becomes routine). hope you like it :)
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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Wise men once said, “Don’t sleep with your windows open,” and you should have listened to them. If you had, there wouldn’t be three dead mercenaries in your living room, and another somewhere in your kitchen. There were five, originally, but you figured the last one was being hunted down a hallway as he tried to escape your building. The blood-spotted microwave’s clock reads 2:08 when you glance at it to grab cleaning supplies from the cupboard. 2:10 is when Satoru re-enters the apartment and kicks off his shoes. 
“I called Ijichi; he’s sending over cleaners right now,” he says, carefully stepping around the blood and curse guts splattered on the floorboards. Stray drops of who knows what speckle the photos on the bookshelf and he wipes them with his sleeve, scowling. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” 
“Yeah, there’d probably be less of a mess,” you admit, wiping down the kitchen island and guiding the crumbs and dust into the trash. “But they’d still be dead, so I guess it doesn’t really matter in the end.” 
“You handled yourself pretty well for being out of the country for a few months,” he adds appreciatively, retrieving the carpet cleaner from under the sink and sprinkling it onto the living room floor. “I still think it’d be better if you lived on-campus, though.” He squints in the pale moonlight at the pile of abrasive powder and decides to dump a little bit more for good measure. 
“I know–Hey, what’d I tell you about wasting the carpet cleaner? A little goes a long way, remember?” Satoru sets the tube down and puts his hands up in surrender, reaching back and tightening his blindfold before he approaches you in the kitchen. “I can hear your thoughts as they make their way to your mouth, dear.” 
“Look, I know what you’re gonna say–”
“Don’t ask what you’re about to ask, then, if you already know the answer,” you interject with that lightning-quick wit he adored so much. You move to grab the broom from next to the fridge, but he gently catches your wrist and turns you to face him. 
“You’d be safer there,” he continues and you pull your lips into a tight line. 
“Only place I’m safe is wherever I'm with you, realistically.” You had a point. In any other circumstance, the sentiment would be sweet if it wasn’t horribly true. You’d heard time and time again from Satoru how he stared restlessly at the ceiling, anxious about what danger might be coming wherever you were. He theorizes that the higher-ups promoted you to spite him, to have you travel even more often than he was and visit more places across the globe than any seasoned sorcerer would be comfortable with. Phone calls weren’t enough to verify that you were safe; he had to see you, feel you, know you were alive. “This is, what, the second time this month? The first time was when I came back from Paris, right?”
“I don’t think that was this month. It might’ve been the last week of the month prior. Monaco, maybe?”
“Eh, same thing. They always come after me when I get back from Europe. You think they’re trying to catch me off guard or something?”
“I don’t know if we can predict a schedule with these guys, babe,” he grimaces. As much as he liked that you were making light of the situation, the churning in his gut about what could have happened if he didn’t come was too painful to ignore. “Your dad would kill me if he saw how much danger I put you in.” 
“It’s a step up than sneaking me out of the third story of the house, I’ll admit,” you tease. How you could still find humor in times like these, he could never fathom. It’d taken months to convince your father to let Satoru court you, let alone marry you. To your family, he was an impediment, an obstacle, and, unfortunately, the love of your life. “Maybe even as bad as the food poisoning you got from that one place in Sendai.”
“I don’t think ‘in sickness and in health’ is supposed to apply to attempted assassinations. Food poisoning and sprained ankles, sure, but that other one toes the line a little too much.” The frequency of your life in danger was why he wanted you to live full-time on one of the Jujutsu Tech campuses and become a teacher, like him. Sure, a selfish part of him wanted you closer all the time, but he’d pick your safety over your proximity any day. 
“How far are the cleaners?” You yawn, washing your hands at the sink and scanning for everything in your home that needs to be wiped or scrubbed. 
“Ten minutes, tops. I can wait for them if you wanna go back to bed.” He knew you weren’t going to take him up on his offer. You were never able to sleep properly after attempts like this unless he was in the same room. “Though I know you won’t.”
“Isn’t it a little fucked up that we know how the rest of these nights usually go?” You chuckle, a soft, airy sound that takes some of the weight off of Satoru’s chest. You were truly sunlight incarnate and he was the darkest, unseen side of the moon. 
“I’d say this is all my fault, honestly.” You look at him curiously and he shrugs. “I’m the one who made you fall in love with me, after all.” 
“By that logic, I’m also partially to blame,” you point out, flashing him the ring on your left hand. The glow of cursed energy Satoru had embedded into the gemstones glows like Christmas lights in the darkness. The energy was more concentrated than your own body’s natural reserves, allowing him to pinpoint you immediately as long as you were wearing it. Danger and plans A through Z, and everything in between that came with marrying the strongest sorcerer in existence. “I can’t count the number of people who warned me about you.”  
“Why didn’t you listen to them?” 
“Because they’re not you,” you smile. “If you say that you’ll keep me safe, then I trust you to keep your word.” Sunlight incarnate, he thinks again, and God help anyone who tries to block you from him.
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haeryna · 2 months
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the sadness we shared is my clarity ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ↪ fushiguro megumi x reader
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summary: it's spring when fushiguro megumi finds you. it's summer when he realizes he loves you. but as the days shorten, and time runs out, megumi realizes you're slipping away.
tw: angst, as per usual. mentions of gore, and sexual tension but nothing explicit or nsfw. you and megumi are both idiots. half of this was churned out in a day so please give the author grace. not proofread. arrangedmarriage!au and friends to enemies to lovers. megumi is Mean. mutual pining, so much that i want to throw up. mmm yummy clan politics
notes: banner by the lovely @/cafekitsune! title taken from txt's deja vu. had this fic rotting in my head and in my drive. dedicated to riko, for being one of the first mooties i ever had. love you @riaki !!
also i'm sorry everyone for vanishing off the face of the earth pls accept this fic as an apology :'))
part one/??
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It’s summer, and the air in Kawasaki is miserably hot and oppressive. Tacky skin clings to thick cloth, and Megumi grimaces at the feeling. Gojo had finally decided to send all the first years together on a mission to deal with a group of Grade 3 spirits, deeming his pupils “worthy to finally make their debut!” To celebrate, Nobara had corralled everyone to a small cafe, located near the train station. “Cmon, this place has air conditioning, and Ijichi won’t be here for at least another hour,” she insists, fingers wrapped around the curve of your wrist. Begrudgingly, Megumi follows along, heavy with the knowledge that where you go, he'll follow.
He can’t help but sneak glances over, as you and Nobara fawn over the icy desserts and drinks the cafe has to offer. The soft swoop of your neck is revealed as you lean in closer to peer at the deserts hidden behind the glass. A bead of sweat trickles down into the hollow of your collarbone, and Megumi swallows hard, forcing himself to look away. The flush on his cheeks is from the summer heat, he tells himself. He can’t quite bring himself to believe it. 
“Fushiguro!” you call out, and he forces himself to look at you. “What is it?” 
“Aren’t you going to get a drink?”
Megumi hesitates, before grumbling an affirmative. As the other three move to secure a table, he turns to face the cashier. She seems younger than him by a few years, makeup done even in the hot weather with mascaraed eyelashes batting at him innocently. She misses the proffered bills, running her hand along his, before apologizing a bit breathily. “It’s fine,” Megumi sighs. His thoughts wander as the cashier chatters away mindlessly. You were favoring your right side. Were you injured? Had one of the curses somehow reached you before he could stop them? Your technique had seemed to wane towards the end of the fight. Were you overexerted? Did he have to speak to Gojo about how hard he’d been training you? 
He pulls himself from his thoughts just in time to notice the cashier leaning over the counter, watching him curiously. “Would you like a receipt, sir?” 
“No,” is his curt reply, shoving all of his traitorous thoughts of you deep down inside of himself. The cashier pouts. “If you fill out a survey, you can get five dollars off on your purchase!” 
Megumi can feel himself grimacing. Nobara would kick his ass if he didn’t at least take it and offer it to her. “Fine then.” As he turns back to the table, he scowls at the too-bright smile on Yuuji’s face. “What’s that look for?” 
“Fushiguro, she was totally hitting on you!” 
He swats away the eager high five. “Did the curses fuck with your brain or something?” 
“No, seriously, look at the receipt she gave you!” 
Megumi can feel the heat of your gaze as he unravels the receipt. Under the printed text of “FIVE DOLLARS OFF AFTER SURVEY COMPLETION!” was a line of neatly printed numbers. Scowling, he shoves the offending piece of paper in your direction. “Here. Take it.” 
“I don’t want your leftovers,” you shoot back, eyes blazing, and his traitorous heart wrenches. “It’s not for the number, idiot. Weren’t you and Kugisaki just complaining about spending that much money on drinks? Take the survey and stop whining.” 
He lets himself fall back in the familiar rhythm of bickering with Nobara as she swats at him. He’ll do anything to avoid the way your offended gaze turns thoughtful, how you seem to study his face as he forces himself to continue the lie he’s let himself live. You cannot be his, Megumi thinks desperately, even after the four of you depart the cafe, and after you toss the crumpled up wad of paper into the trash can. Even as you fall asleep in the backseat of the car, head perched onto his shoulder, he fights down the growing panic and nausea. He would rather break his own heart in the process than let you suffer from his affections. 
Cursed, he thinks. There’s a reason his mother passed, his father killed, and his sister stolen away. He’s as cursed as the shadows that seep from his domain with their tendrils that wrap and curl over every inch of light. Megumi has already accepted that the feelings that grow by the day can never be revealed. You, with your sunshine laugh, whose tender hands would always reach for him after a mission. Fushiguro, you’d say, kindly. You’re hurt again. Let me grab the first aid kit. You, with your hands that are soft and gentle, as much as Megumi’s hands are calloused and stained. 
I love you, he finally admits, as he carries you from the car back to your room. Yuuji had an ankle injury, and Nobara couldn’t handle hauling your weight up the stairs leading back to Jujutsu Tech. At least, that’s what he tells himself, as he shifts your weight in his arms, feeling the way you subconsciously pressed yourself closer to him. I love you. Your eyelashes flutter in your sleep, brow crinkling ever so slightly. Gently, Megumi smoothes it over with his thumb. I love you. 
Fushiguro Megumi was by no means a religious man. He’d known that there was no god in the battlefields of a sorcerer, no mercy in the torturous death that only curses could offer. And yet, as he lowers you down to the comfort of your mattress, he finds himself praying. I’ll do anything, he thinks, as he watches you in the depths of your slumber. I’ll give up my body, my soul, my life. Just please let her live. Please let her be happy. 
Please give her someone that could take better care of her than I ever could. 
Fushiguro Megumi found you in the first rainfall of spring. 
You hadn't noticed him, quietly watching the droplets fall on the sakura trees planted near the perimeter of Jujutsu Tech. The edges of your kimono were stained with mud, with a chunk of your haori ripped out on the left side. Megumi frowned. Silk, he noted, and gold. You’re dressed too well to be here, but too oblivious to be a threat. Just to be sure, he let his fingers curl around the handle of one of his tonfas before he spoke. 
“Who are you?” 
Startled, you turned to face him, and his scowl deepened. You were pretty, even with your eyes rounded in shock, and the undignified noise that had escaped you when you realized you weren’t alone. When you told him your name, voice hesitant, Megumi couldn't help but hate the way his heart reacted as you spoke. 
“I’m looking for Gojo Satoru,” you finished, teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip as you waited for his response. Megumi swallowed hard.
“A lot of people do.” He kept his tone steady, forced himself not to let the heat in his chest rise to his face. “What’s a Kamo doing here, looking for him?” 
Megumi had heard of you, of course. Gojo had raised him with at least a basic understanding of the three Big Families, and their prominent figures from both the past and present. The half-sister to Noritoshi Kamo, you had been held behind while your elders sent him away to the sister school in Kyoto. Women, Gojo had said, tone playful but eyes cold, are seen as nothing more than breeding stock and political pawns. They’ll probably keep her there until she’s married off. 
Something seems to settle inside you, and Megumi can’t help but watch, ensnared in the web you weave. Your hands smooth over the creases in your kimono as you exhaled, shoulders rounding back. Even covered in grime you radiated elegance, though you were betrayed by the still-skittish look in your eyes. “I’m here to make a deal with him.” 
A few days after the four of you had returned from your assignment in Kawasaki, you realized that Megumi was behaving rather oddly. 
At first, he seemed moody. Tired, you assumed. With promotions coming up, Gojo-sensei had been training the four of you even more rigorously than usual. Your mornings were filled with research, analyzing the few texts that Jujutsu Tech had recovered on cursed techniques that were even remotely similar to your own. The evenings were spent sparring, with thick dust kicked up under the lukewarm breeze, and the faint howls of Megumi’s shikigami in the distance. 
Sighing, you squat down, calling softly into the woods until one of his Divine Dogs trot out, tongue lolling out happily. You can’t help the wistful smile that tugs at your lips as you run your fingers through soft, black fur. They’d taken a liking to you, after you started carrying a few dog treats in your gear to give to them. Megumi had always complained that you spoiled them, babied them too much. You couldn’t help it. You loved his shikigami dearly. 
What did that say about you? The thought makes you lightheaded for a moment. The heat, you think, a bit desperate. It was all the heat. 
“You’re late.” 
You tilt your head backwards, startling at how close he’d gotten to you. He’s dressed for the summer heat, ditching his uniform for something more practical. Linen pants brush by you as he reaches your side, and your heart seems to convulse when you realize you can see the slight ripple of muscle under the fabric of his shirt.  Heat flares in your cheeks and you look away. Stormy eyes study you, a flicker of something predatory passing through them before he turns to his shikigami. 
“And you. Stop running off like that.” 
The Divine Dog whines, and you crinkle your nose, turning back to meet his gaze. “I was calling for it because I couldn’t find you. You weren’t where we normally spar.” 
“Gojo wanted us to use the other fields.” 
“Fine, fine.” Petulant, you reach for his wrist, hoisting yourself up off the ground. Before you can even speak, he’s tearing it from your grasp as though you’ve burnt him. “Hurry up. We’re losing light.” 
You follow after him quietly, ignoring the sting in your hand from the phantom contact. He’s probably overwhelmed with the work we’ve been doing, you remind yourself, yet you can’t help the slight feeling of dread that runs up your spine. His dog noses at your palm, whining softly, as thought it can sense your distress. Its owner however seems none the wiser. 
“Why did you want to spar today? Didn’t Gojo-sensei say we could take today off?”  
“The next mission is the one that the higher-ups are sending us on to see if we should be recommended for a higher grade. That means it’s going to be more dangerous than usual.” 
The trees clear to reveal a clearing, grass matted down from hours of sparring. “I hate when you’re right.” 
Megumi spares you a sharp glance but says nothing else. “Warm up quickly. I want to be back before it gets dark.” 
You stretch out under the waning light, letting your technique run through your body for a few moments. Cheating, Yuuji would insist, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager for a fight. The upcoming mission loomed over you, anxiety building as you thought about the uncertainties of it all. You hadn’t trusted the higher-ups from the beginning, and you especially didn’t trust them in any circumstance where Itadori Yuuji’s life was at risk. You exhale, feeling the familiar buzz of your cursed energy flow as you move. “Okay. I’m ready.” 
Sparring with Megumi feels like a dance, more than anything else. He was your partner long before Yuuji and Nobara had even transferred to Tokyo, and your body has been trained to move as seamlessly with him as possible. Every step forward he takes you step back, and with each swing of the staff, your katana rises up to meet up. You lose yourself in it for a moment, watching the way his jaw clenches in concentration, eyebrows furrowed as you narrowly avoid a pointed elbow. A sharp jab of your blade, and Megumi is suddenly right in front of you. The air leaves your lungs in his presence taking in the scent of his laundry detergent and the slightest tinge of the soap he uses. He takes advantage of your distraction to disarm you, flipping you neatly into a hold. 
“Yield,” he says, pressing his knee down into your stomach a little more firmly. You try your best to ignore the sight of him kneeled between your legs as you try to kick out from under him. His eyes darken at the sight of you, pinned and struggling to free yourself. 
“Yield,” he says, once more, and you do, letting your body rest against the ground as you stare up at him. There’s a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, the veins of his slender hands raised as he holds his staff. You let your hand curl against the wood of it, feeling the pressure of it resting on your throat. 
“I yield,” you say, and in that moment you know that you have. Fushiguro Megumi has stolen your heart from the day you met him. I’d give you everything, you realize, as Megumi helps you to your feet. There are 35 trillion blood cells in the human body, and every single one of them runs for you. You let your fingers intertwine with his for the briefest moment before forcing yourself to pull away. I would do anything to have you. My greatest sin and my holiest salvation wrapped into a single body. 
“That was a good fight,” he tells you, taking your silence for sulking. Maybe I wanted to lose. Maybe I did want to fall for you. Would that be such a sin? 
“Thanks,” is your stilted answer, the setting sun sealing your fate. You’re in love with Fushiguro Megumi. And you don’t quite know what to do about it. 
The mission is simple enough, until it isn’t. An abandoned hospital, Ijitchi had said in the car ride over. Residual curses had been spotted clinging to the interior, feeding off of an unknown source within. Intel had suggested that it was a Grade 2 spirit at most. You watch as Nobara takes a bit too much pleasure in nailing the swarms of weak curses that had greeted you at the entrance, Yuuji laughing at how easily his fists send them to a rather unpleasant demise. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles over you. This is too easy for a promotion mission. What were they hiding? 
Then Megumi opens the doors to what would’ve been the emergency room, and all hell breaks loose. 
Bloodstains, bright red, catch your eye first. They’re splattered all over the room, on the floor, curtains, and on the hospital sheets yellowed with age. You see the bones next. Human; skulls, ribcages, femurs, all picked clean and white enough to shine under the fluorescent lighting. The light flickers. A tumorous mass sits in the center of the room, a conglomeration of hair, teeth, and eyes that blink slowly at you. Your spine stiffens, and immediately, you pull Megumi towards you as a ropelike strand of hair tightens around the spot where he was standing. 
Those fuckers. A Semi-Grade 1? 
“Megumi,” is all you can make out. In the hallway, you can hear something more menacing, something equally as terrible as what sits in the room inside with you. You can hear Nobara’s cry of pain as a nauseating crack rips through the air. They won’t survive without him. “I’m sorry.” 
His eyes widen in understanding a fraction too late as you gather all your energy and shove him back out into the corridor as the curse flings a file cabinet at you. It crashes into the door, and you can hear Megumi calling your name with something that sounds like desperation. The hinges rattle as he throws his weight against it, but the cabinet holds firm. When you turn to face the curse in front of you, the look in its eyes is amused as you draw your blade. A cavernous maw opens, splitting it down the center as misshapen lumps of flesh spill out. Smaller curses, remnants of the innocents it had lured and devoured. A sudden chill goes through your body. 
This isn’t a Semi-Grade. This is a full-fledged Grade 1. 
There’s something vicious in the way you move, tearing through cursed spirits as though they’re paper. Ichor stains the ground around you, as red as the blood you channel through your veins. Dimly, you think you’re screaming. It was a set up, you think desperately. Of course the higher-ups would try to kill Itadori Yuuji at any cost. They didn’t give a fuck about you, or Nobara, or Megumi. Fury fills the cavern of your chest as you lunge for the hulking Grade 1, as it grotesquely pushes out the corpse of one of its victims into something far more sinister. You rip it to shreds without a second thought. 
The sound of steel on flesh makes the hair of your arms rise as you finally manage to cut a nasty gash into the misshapen curse in front of you. It howls in pain, tendrils reaching for your body as you leap away. Instead, the tendrils open the serrated wound a bit further, opening a new pocket for its children to crawl out of. That was the first blow you’d been able to land; ten minutes have passed since you trapped yourself inside a room with it. Will you make it out alive? You shake the thought away angrily.
Gritting your teeth, you increase your blood flow, shooting it down to your legs and the fibers of your muscles. Your blade shines as it cuts down curses, the Grade 1 merely watching with a demeanor that you can only describe as bored. It’s toying with you, you realize, but what pricks your heart isn’t fear, but resignation. Your foot catches on the rubble for only a moment, and the Grade 1 moves, slamming you into the wall with enough force for you to feel your ribs shatter. Blood fills your mouth and you choke, lungs heaving. Punctured, your technique tells you, a liter gone. The air tastes like iron and salt, and you realize with a start that you’re dying. 
You feel oddly calm as the world spins, watching as the ropes of hair approach your prone body. The last thing you see is the door shattering open, and the look in Megumi’s eyes as he sees you. There’s terror in his normally stoic expression, his arm outstretched towards you as Nue dives for you. Nobara and Yuuji are moving, but all you can see is him. His hands are bloodied at the fingertips, as though he’d been clawing at the door with his own hands to pry it open, his lips moving soundlessly. There’s a dull ringing in your ears, the toll of death that signals your end. His hand cups your face, and you allow yourself to lean into it for a moment, reveling in the touch. I could die like this, is your final thought as you succumb to your injuries. I’m happy that you’re holding me, Megumi.
The world around you feels muted, when you finally awaken. Your vision is blurred as you peel your eyelids back, and you wince at the sensation. How long have you been out for? Slowly, the blurred tinges of light start to focus. A lamp, dimly lit to your right on the nightstand next to a pitcher of water and an empty cup. A punctured lung, a liter gone. Your hand drifts to the bandages that wrap your chest, carefully letting your cursed technique scan your body. A few lacerations, but for the most part you were fine. Crisp sheets rustle as you sit up, examining your surroundings. The hospital in the infirmary. Somehow, they managed to bring you back. 
Megumi’s eyes, so desperate and lost as his hand reached for you. 
You try not to think about it, as you carefully test your body. Your limbs ache, but that’s to be expected. Your hair has been neatly pulled away from your face; Nobara’s work, no doubt. Her screams from behind the door, the dread in your chest when you realized they might not survive without Megumi. You watch your fingers shake as you reach for the water, letting it soothe away the pain in your throat. Did she even make it? Did they live? 
The door opens, startling you from your thoughts. Megumi stands in the doorway, hand pushing through his hair. You take a moment to examine him, noting the dark circles under his pale skin, and how his long hair seemed mussed. His eyes scan the room, passing over you before focusing on you with startling clarity. 
“You’re awake.” 
Hesitantly, you nod, as he drops into the seat beside you. “Did…did they…”
He cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “Kugisaki and Itadori are fine.” 
You stare down at your hands, letting the silence wash over you. Yet, you’re dimly aware of how suffocating it feels, how your shoulders were unable to relax even with the knowledge that your friends were alive and safe. Megumi continues to watch you, but before you can say something, anything,  his voice fills the air, terse and clipped. 
“What the fuck were you thinking?” 
Startled, your eyes meet his. “What?” 
“Did you think I was too weak? That I couldn’t handle it just because you’ve been a Grade 2 longer than I have?” The eyes that normally watched you with a hint of affectionate exasperation were cold, and hard. “You behaved recklessly. Did you even think about how it impacted the rest of us? Because of you, Kugisaki broke her leg, and Itadori almost had his arm cleaved off. You did all of that just for the rest of us to find you half dead in a puddle of your own bones and blood.” 
“Stop it,” you whisper, but Megumi’s voice only twists into something far more cruel. “You thought you were being so brave, sacrificing yourself, only to realize that you weren’t that special. You couldn’t even take down that Grade 1 alone. Kugisaki had to save you, even as she was practically screaming from the pain.” 
“Megumi,” you whisper, and he pauses, clearly unused to his name falling from your lips. “Why are you so angry at me?” Your voice breaks ever so slightly and you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, ashamed at the wetness in your eyes. “Where is this coming from? I don’t understa-” 
He slams his palm against the wooden surface of your bedside table, rattling the drawers. “Are you really that stupid to ask what you did wrong? You fucked up. I thought you were different, but in reality, you’re no better than the rest of your clan, are you? You’re just another filthy Kamo.” 
Your hands shake as you twist them into the off-white infirmary sheets. “What are you talking about?” 
Megumi laughs, but it’s jaded, sharp. “Congratulations. You’re being promoted to a Semi-Grade 1, all because of your little stunt that landed the rest of us into hospital beds. Even though we all had to help you finish it off, they’re only choosing you. I wonder why.” 
“Megumi.” Your voice rises, as your heart finally shatters. “I did it because I thought you would die, you know that. I don’t give a fuck about the politics of the higher ups, or my clan, or even my grade. I just wanted to protect you all. You know that.” 
He rises from the chair next to your side, expression indifferent to the tears that are rolling down your cheeks. “As if I’d believe you.” 
“Megumi,” you call out, desperately, as he walks away. “Megumi!” 
He doesn’t look back, and you’re left alone in the dark with only the moon to bear company as you sob. I don’t understand, you think, deliriously. Can’t you see that I love you? Can’t you see I’d rather die than watch you break in front of me? 
Megumi barely makes it to the lawn before he retches into the bushes. Bile rises in his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut as he replays the moment over and over and over again. For five days, he’d held vigil at your bed. For five days, he realized that your love for him would get you killed. For five days, he’d wrapped his heart in iron, knowing that what he was about to do would break the both of you. I would’ve only gotten you killed, he thinks, numbly. It’s what landed you here in the first place. 
Yet, Megumi can’t stop recalling the exact moment the relief in your eyes had turned into betrayal, how your lips had trembled and your hands shook. Your voice, desperate and pleading, calling his name as he forced his legs to walk away from you. How he can hear your sobs faintly trailing from the windows above, matching the tears that are trailing down his cheeks. 
You’ll hate him forever, he thinks, dazed, as he forces himself onto his feet. You’ll hate him forever, and by god it’ll be the most painful thing he’s ever experienced, but as long as you’re alive he can bear it. As long as he never has to see you there again, laying in a heap of your own blood, eyes dazed and unseeing, he will carry the sins that it takes to keep you alive and away from him. 
I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry that someone like me ever fell for someone like you. I love you so much that the thought of being without me tears me to shreds. I love how you take care of my shikigami like they're your own. I love how every touch you give me heals something that I didn't know I was missing. I love you, and I need you to live more than I need air to breathe.
I love you, and even though I don't think you'll ever forgive me, I'll always follow wherever you go.
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