#is it angst? yes

[loopspoop]

Maybe I’m reading into this a bit but…I was thinking about how strong Goemon is. Because he is strong. They’re all strong of course but Goemon is strong. And it kind of dawned on me like…do you think it gets to him? He’s been compared to an angel before (as far as I’ve seen because I’m only almost done with part 2) and those are pretty powerful entities like it literally showed him as an angel deflecting that missile that one episode. As far as I’ve seen, nobody has compared Jigen to death or the like or Fujiko to like..a siren??? (Idk but you get my point) Lupin has been thought immortal because bro is literally unkillable and true..I’m sure that weighs on him late at night too but..do you think it gets to him? Viewing oneself as human while others place you at a status that is literally unobtainable?

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[bibbysstuff]

do not worry im still gonna draw them silly and cute together teehee

[miss-americanbi]

was chatting with my brother about gravity falls (again) and i said something like “man, can you believe stan waited and worked for 30 years just for the chance to try and bring his brother back?” to which my brother responded, “yeah, it’s nuts when you think about it. i wonder if stan got trapped in the multiverse instead, if ford would do the same.” HELLO???

[imfinereallyy]

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

[snowheartsz]

fuck sex these bitches need a deep, LONG ASS hug where they don’t let go for a while and just soak into each other’s arms like the other’s heartbeat is their oxygen they so desperately need as they bawl their eyes out

[frownyalfred]

a random socialite at a fundraiser: you know Bruce, that boy of yours is getting to be a little too pretty. heh.

Bruce Wayne, who was also "too pretty" at fourteen and is absolutely ready to castrate anyone who even looks at Dick directly: oh?

[egophiliac]

What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

i vote that next year instead of reading Dracula we do a Jeeves & Wooster Book Club. those two never got the rabid tumblr shipping fandom they deserved (disqualified for the sheer technicality of being published a century too soon). we must correct this injustice

[faeriekit]

"Do you like this character?🥺?" I want to see him sobbing and writhing in a ditch. Leave me alone

[loopspoop]

Chapter 4 here we are! Fujiko is back and everyone’s trying (and failing) to cope! Lots of hurt and comfort in this one but they’re working hard to handle things!

TW: panic attack

Fujiko opened the door, frowning as she looked around. There was a blanket on the ground and the coffee table was moved across the room. Where the hell were the boys? Had they gone upstairs to use an actual bed? Hopefully so..Lupin wouldn’t recover well on just a couch. She walked inside, shutting and locking the door behind her as she looked around.

“Hello? Jigen? Goemon?” She called, walking to the stairs as she began to go up.

Zenigata peered over the railing, smiling as he relaxed a bit. “Fujiko, we’re up here.” He had worried it was an intruder.

“Zenigata-?” Fujiko hesitated. “When did you get here-?” She thought he wouldn’t be able to find them…

“Oh, uh…I’ve been here the whole time actually…you have the medication for Lupin, right?” Zenigata rubbed his nape sheepishly, glancing away.

Fujiko nodded a bit, climbing the stairs the rest of the way. The whole time? So, he was already here and they just didn’t know? That was a little creepy. Where had he been hiding at? And where were Jigen and Goemon? Had he arrested them? She wouldn’t be happy if he had arrested them.

“Where is everyone?” Fujiko looked past Zenigata, frowning.

“Ah..we had some trouble while you were gone. Jigen and Goemon are keeping an eye on him in the bedroom but we really do need to give him some medication.” Zenigata frowned, leading her to the bedroom.

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?” Fujiko frowned, looking into the bedroom quietly.

Lupin laid in the bed, still unconscious. Jigen sat on the ground beside the bed, smoking silently as he tapped his foot. That was an obvious sign he was anxious. She had picked that up early on, whenever he was on edge he fell into the tapping habit. Goemon sat at the foot of the bed, watching Lupin closely as he held onto Zantetsuken. She could see him rubbing the handle with his thumb, another anxious habit she had learned about from her years with them. Whatever had happened must’ve been bad…but Lupin was still breathing, that much she could see.

“Took you long enough.” Jigen mumbled, glancing at her from under his hat.

Fujiko frowned a bit, walking in as she unpacked the bottles. “You try seducing a pharmacist.” She grumbled angrily.

Jigen scoffed. “Took you less time to seduce Lupin every time you show up wanting a cut of our loot. You decided to take your sweet time while he’s here dying on us!”

“Nobody is dying.” Goemon looked at Jigen sternly, holding Zantetsuken tighter. He wouldn’t let Lupin die.

“Guys-“ Zenigata frowned, looking between them all anxiously. This wasn’t the time to fight.

“Oh, easy for you to say, Goemon. You took two weeks to get your ass to the lab to get him out!” Jigen glared at him, standing. “You took two weeks and Fujiko took two hours! And Lupin’s laying here suffering because of it!”

Fujiko narrowed her eyes. “You have no right, Jigen! I didn’t see you get out of that cell before Goemon showed up and I sure as hell didn’t see you busting your ass to get medication for Lupin!”

“Yeah because flaunting your tits is busting your ass!” Jigen rolled his eyes, glaring at them. “It’s like you two don’t even care what happens to him!”

“That is not true!” Goemon’s stood, glaring at Jigen as his hands shook. “Don’t talk to Fujiko that way!”

“This isn’t fair, Jigen! You aren’t blameless here!” Fujiko huffed, poking her finger into his chest angrily.

“Guys, hey-“ Zenigata frowned, trying to get in between them to stop the fighting.

“I am!” He wasn’t…god he wasn’t blameless but blaming them felt better than blaming himself. “It should’ve been one of you!” He growled angrily. “One of you should be in this bed! Not Lupin!”

“Jigen! Enough!” Zenigata got between all of them, glaring. “That’s enough.”

Goemon narrowed his eyes, turning as he stormed out. He couldn’t handle Jigen right now. He couldn’t handle thinking that everything he had said was true. He could’ve done more. He could’ve gotten there sooner or given Lupin better medical care. Instead, he waited two weeks and put Lupin through hell. It should be him in that bed. Lupin did not deserve this.

Fujiko glared, pushing the medications into Jigen’s arms roughly. “You fucking take care of it then, Jigen.” She growled. “And don’t come crawling to any of us when you manage to fuck it up.”

She turned, walking out and downstairs. She didn’t need Jigen to remind her of what had happened. She didn’t need him to remind her of any of the horrors Lupin must’ve faced in that lab and that it was her fault too for getting caught so easily. But Jigen wasn’t blameless either. It pissed her off that he thought he could get out of this blame free. If he thought he was so great then he could handle Lupin by himself!

Zenigata turned to Jigen, frowning. “What the hell was that?” He crossed his arms.

Jigen turned away from him, looking through the bottles quietly. “Forget about it, Pops.”

“No, I will not forget about it!” Zenigata grabbed his arm, turning him around so they faced each other. “I’ve never heard you talk to them like that. What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Leave it alone.” Jigen growled, looking away. He didn’t need this..

“No. I get this is stressful but you don’t get to blame everyone but yourself-“

“I do blame myself, damnit!” Jigen snapped, looking up at Zenigata angrily. “I blame myself for this shit! I sat in that cell for two fucking weeks and didn’t help him!”

Zenigata hesitated, letting Jigen go. He knew that, since Jigen had finally snapped, he had better just listen. He knew the man was usually pretty closed off. No doubt this had been building for a while..

“I got myself caught and Lupin was right down the hall for two damn weeks getting dissected and tortured! And I didn’t help him!” Jigen shouted, slamming the bottles down on the bedside table angrily.

“I couldn’t get out of that damn cell! And when we finally did I couldn’t kill the bastard! Goemon did! And Fujiko got the car and the medication! And Goemon- Goemon treated him!” Jigen clenched his fists, his voice cracking as he looked down at Lupin.

“And when he had his seizure..that was you, Pops. I’ve done nothing for him…what type of partner am I if I can’t do anything for him…?” Jigen pulled his hat down further, trying to hide the emotions that were getting the better of him. “..It should be me in that bed…not Lupin..”

Zenigata frowned, hesitating before he put a hand on Jigen’s shoulder. “You got him out of there. It might not have been all by yourself but you got him out of there. And you’ve been taking care of him the best you could. And I would say…I would say that Lupin would be pretty damn grateful if he was awake right now.”

Jigen bit his lip hard, tears beginning to trail down his face as he sunk onto his knees beside the bed. He had been so worked up…and he said pretty shitty stuff to Goemon and Fujiko when they were hurting too. He had really fucked up. What would Lupin think of him if he had been awake for that? Zenigata sat on the ground beside him, wrapping an arm around him quietly. He had dealt with a fair amount of this with his time on the force. Jigen just needed some time..

“…I love him.” Jigen mumbled softly, shaking his head. “I love all of them..and I fucked up…I fucked everything up.”

Zenigata hesitated, frowning as he thought quietly. “I don’t think you did.”

Jigen glanced at him before glancing down. “I’m sure accusing them of failing Lupin doesn’t win me any points..”

“Maybe not. But they’re in the same boat you are right now. They’re worried about him. And I’m sure if you went and apologized and let them have a moment to feel how stressed they are…it might work out.” Zenigata squeezed him, smiling a little.

Jigen thought quietly for a moment, laughing a little. “When did you get good at being sappy, old man?”

“Hey, I was married once!” Zenigata rolled his eyes, shoving him gently. “Communicating is important..even when things get hard. Now go sort things out. I’ll give Lupin his medication.”

Jigen wiped at his eyes, nodding as he stood. “Thanks.” He looked out at Zenigata from under his hat, smiling a little.

Zenigata nodded, standing as he smiled back and began to look the medication bottles over. He knew the gang weren’t all bad..they just made some bad choices sometimes. They were still human..it was part of what charmed him so much about them. Jigen walked downstairs, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked around. Fujiko was laying on the couch, watching the TV silently. Jigen took a breath, walking down stairs the rest of the way. He would have to settle things, even if they were so mad they wouldn’t talk to him.

“..Fujiko.” Jigen walked into her line of sight. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Are you actually sorry or did Zenigata just tear you a new one and make you come apologize?” Fujiko glared at him, sitting up. “You were such an asshole, I’m surprised he didn’t tell you to leave.”

“He probably should’ve.” He sighed, sitting beside her. “I’m actually sorry. I know we don’t always see eye to eye and I can be a bastard-“

“Can be? You are.” Fujiko huffed, glancing at him angrily.

“Fair.” Jigen laughed a little. “All of this just…put me over the edge and I took it out of you and Goe and I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry. You didn’t take too long. Without you we would’ve been screwed. I’m sorry I said all of that to you.”

Fujiko bit her lip, glancing at him quietly for a moment. “…what happened while I was gone, Jigen?”

Jigen sighed, rubbing his face quietly as he looked over at the blanket on the ground. He could still see Lupin there, shaking, not breathing. The sound he had made when he stopped breathing..it was something he would never forget. He hadn’t been the only one to see it or the only one to deal with the fallout..Fujiko didn’t even know the worst of it.

“Jigen.” Fujiko took his hand, frowning. “Tell me what happened.”

“He had a seizure. Right here, he just..stopped breathing and..” Jigen sighed, playing with Fujiko’s fingers gently. “His fever from the infections got too high…and I thought…I thought he was dying..Pop’s was the only one who knew what to do about it..”

Fujiko eyes widened as she held onto Jigen a bit tighter. All that had happened while she was gone…? No wonder he had snapped at her for taking too long..she probably would’ve done the same thing after seeing something like that. She wouldn’t tolerate his behavior…but she could forgive it. He was sorry, that much was very clear. Obviously the events with Lupin had taken their toll on Jigen…and most likely Goemon too. It was all she could do to keep from imagining Lupin in pain like that. It made her feel sick…poor Lupin.

“I forgive you. But next time just..talk to someone? Don’t accuse us of not caring. We all care about Lupin.” Fujiko looked at him sternly.

Jigen nodded. “That’s fair. I’ll work on it.” He wouldn’t take it out on them again.

Fujiko smiled softly. “Good. Now I’m going to shower the two weeks of cell dirt out of my hair. Go make up with Goemon.” She pulled his beard lightly before she stood.

Jigen rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah..” hopefully it would go well with Goemon..

“And, Jigen?” Fujiko walked to the stairs, smiling softly.

“Hm?” Jigen turned toward her, raising an eyebrow.

“Lupin is oblivious at the best of times.” Fujiko winked, waving as she walked upstairs. “Just remember that.”

Jigen hesitated, blushing. What the hell-? Was he that obvious? Damnit…he would deal with that after he talked to Goemon. At least she wasn’t being a bitch about it... He shook his head, looking around as he rubbed his nape. Jigen checked the rest of the downstairs over, frowning when he found no trace of the samurai. He walked to the back door when he heard the sound of Zantetsuken cutting through something, opening it as he peered outside curiously.

Goemon held Zantetsuken tightly, striking at nearby trees angrily. How dare Jigen accuse him of not caring for Lupin?! He cared for him! Of course he cared for him! He paced angrily, hands shaking enough to make his slices crooked. His chest felt heavy. He had failed Lupin more than once but..this was continuous failure. Lupin could have died because he had taken too long…he had not treated him well enough. Goemon bit his lip, stabbing Zantetsuken into a tree as he leaned against it. He felt like he was drowning, his hands shaking as he panted. Maybe this was deserved…

“Goemon.” Jigen walked over, frowning as he watched. He was definitely worked up..

Goemon glanced at Jigen, body trembling as he gripped Zantetsuken’s handle tightly. Lupin could’ve died..and Jigen was right to tell him it was his fault because it was. Of course it was. Jigen and Fujiko couldn’t get out of that cell. It was all his fault for taking so long. He sank to the ground, vision blurring as he clenched his fists. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do anything right!

“Shit-” Jigen frowned, carefully stepping closer. “Goemon.” He crouched beside him.

Goemon curled in on himself, gasping as he teared up. He cared for Lupin…he would’ve given his life to take Lupin’s place! Jigen was right..he had failed and continued to fail. Whatever this was, it was karma for letting this happen to Lupin..

“Goemon. Goe, breathe.” Jigen grabbed his hand carefully.

Goemon flinched away, his hands shaking harder as he looked at Jigen. His chest ached and it was hard to breathe. Tears streamed down his face, his hands gripping his hair roughly. Maybe he would die and fail again by making more work for everyone. It certainly felt like he was dying. Jigen frowned, carefully wrapping his arms around Goemon as he held him tightly. He could feel how tense he was..how much he was trying to breathe properly. He never meant to make the poor guy have a panic attack over Lupin’s condition..Goemon closed his eyes tightly, hyperventilating as he tried to breathe properly. Tears continued to stream down his face as he tried to relax into Jigen. It was his fault this had happened…he should’ve been better.. what Lupin must’ve thought of him had he been awake…he felt nothing but shame over his actions..

“Just breathe, Goe. Breathe with me. In and out. It’ll pass.” Jigen pressed a hand to Goemon’s chest gently, breathing with him.

Goemon bit his lip, shakily breathing with Jigen. He gripped Jigen’s arm anxiousky, the shaking his his hands dying down a bit after a minute. His chest still ached..but breathing came a bit easier as he focused on the pressure Jigen applied to his body and the sound of him breathing. Even thought he detested his and Lupin’s smoking habit, the cigarette smell was calming and familiar and helped ground him. This was so embarrassing..he was a samurai..he was supposed to be strong. This was not strong. He was being childish in front of Jigen of all people..

“That’s it.” Jigen nodded, squeezing him carefully. “Just take it easy. Everything’s okay.” He felt awful for causing this to happen…

“Jigen..” Goemon mumbled, resting his head back against his shoulder as he looked down. This was embarrassing..Nobody should’ve seen him like this…

“I’m right here, don’t worry. It’s just a panic attack, it’ll pass.” Jigen frowned, gently taking Goemon’s hand. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for anything, Goe. I took my stress out on you and Fujiko and I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. You did everything you could’ve and I know Lupin would’ve appreciated the hell out of you if he was awake.”

Goemon closed his eyes tightly, more tears streaming down his face as he held onto his hand tightly. “I-I would’ve given my life for Lupin..I failed him…”

Jigen shook his head, holding his hand gently. “Lupin wouldn’t want that, Goe. You know he wouldn’t want that. You didn’t fail anybody. You did so much..do you think I would’ve thought of that thing with the sugar? Hell no. You took great care of him and you killed that bastard that did this to him. When he wakes up he’s going to be so grateful..I’m grateful for you too, Goe. We all are.”

Goemon hesitated before squeezing Jigen’s hand. “..I care for all of you…very much..” he mumbled softly.

Jigen blushed a bit, nodding softly. “We care for you too, Goe…” he glanced away, biting his lip. “Me especially..”

Goemon blushed a bit, glancing at him as he nodded little. “..thank you..for assisting me..”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had my fair share of panic attacks.” Jigen shrugged a bit. “You’ll probably feel like shit for a while, just a heads up. We can go inside and rest for a bit, that’ll help.”

Goemon bit the inside of his cheek. “What about Lupin?” He glanced back at him anxiously.

“Pop’s watching him. He’s gotten his medication too, so he’ll be alright.” Jigen nodded, helping him stand as he held onto his hand. “Since we’re all here we can rest and take shifts watching Lupin, okay?”

Goemon nodded a bit, pulling Zantetsuken out of the tree as he held onto Jigen’s hand. “..okay.”

Jigen nodded, walking back to the house with Goemon. He knew he was tired, he could see it in how he walked. He knew that was from all the stress and the panic attack. They’d just have to get a little TLC while Lupin recovered..once he woke up it would be a lot easier.. he squeezed Goemon’s hand, the samurai squeezing back as they made their way inside.

“We’ll get some water and then once Fujiko finishes taking her shower you can have one. That’ll help. For now we can just sit on the couch, okay?” Jigen helped him inside, sitting Goemon on the couch while he got him some water.

Goemon nodded, looking down at the floor quietly. They was definitely embarrassing..and he didn’t need to be babied by Jigen for having an outburst…though, it felt nice to be taken care of.. It was reassuring to know that Jigen had been in this situation as well..it made it feel less embarrassing. He just didn’t want to make anyone worry for two people when they had Lupin to worry about.. Jigen walked back in, handing him the water as he sat beside him. Goemon drank some, putting the water down nearby as he laid back against the couch. His eyes ached..his head ached..his body was tired..he hadn’t had a panic attack before..they were definitely something he would have to train against.

“Come here.” Jigen frowned, pulling Goemon up against his chest as he laid back.

“Hm?” Goemon opened an eye, looking up at him as he blushed a bit.

“I’m figuring you’re sore. Just take it easy.” Jigen gently ran his hands through Goemon’s hair, massaging his scalp carefully to help him relax.

Goemon blushed more, hesitating slightly before relaxing against Jigen slowly. It…felt nice. It was hard to let himself relax knowing Lupin wasn’t well off..but if Lupin had more people to watch over him…maybe it was okay? Jigen told him it was…he would trust him..he wanted nothing more than for things to be alright again..

Fujiko watched from the stairs, smiling softly as she dried her hair with a towel. She was glad they had sorted that out. They were cute together when they weren’t at each other’s throats..now they just needed Lupin to wake up and things would start to be okay again. She would go over the notebooks Goemon had brought back and they could figure out what to do for Lupin. They would put him back together and find ways to cope with this…she would make Jigen confess to him too. She wanted things to go back to some type of normal again.

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send the situation (in which you want to see a Blorbo) to our inbox and we’ll make a poll for you where people can vote if they think their Blorbos would survive said situation.

[bebx]

something about loving someone is giving them the power to break your heart and hoping they will not use it

[kenjakusbraincum]

can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺

You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Vows

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)

It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.

You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?

Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.

And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.

So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.

When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.

''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.

''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?

''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.

''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.

But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.

You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''

''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.

''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.

That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.

Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.

It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.

You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.

Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.

''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.

''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.

"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.

Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.

You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.

You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.

"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.

You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.

-

You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.

He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.

"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.

Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"

There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.

"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."

You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.

"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."

You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.

He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?

Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.

-

Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.

He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.

He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.

He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.

You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''

''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?

''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...

''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''

You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.

Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.

You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.

Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.

''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.

''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.

Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''

You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.

-

You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.

And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.

He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.

You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.

When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.

He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.

You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.

''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.

He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.

"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."

Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.

The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.

Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.

And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.

Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.

Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.

The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.

Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.

[riaki]

ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

[fushitoru]

EDIT: check out the series here!

thinking about writing a bridgerton!gojo fic (series?)....

duke gojo, who has stirred up everyone and their mamas with news of how he is finally joining the marriage scene this season after years of fooling around. of course, to no one's surprise, he is the season's most eligible bachelor. he's the strongest, whether that be in terms of wealth or other manly pursuits gentlemen ought to be good at. gojo isn't marrying for love. he just needs to be tied down to secure his inheritance so he can gamble and fool around at the gentleman's clubs with his friends until he drops dead one day.

you seek to be the perfect daughter in front of your parents. you have been taught to be the picture of grace and nobility, proficient at all things a lady must be good at: needlework, art, music...you name it. but deep inside, you have an affinity for literature---feminist literature. you secretly feel aversion towards the idea of marrying just to be a submissive wife but will not show it. you are perfectly content marrying any man that should not harm you as long as he has the means to provide for you and make your family proud.

upon your presentation to the queen, you are immediately crowned a diamond. the first ball of the season comes, and gojo undoubtedly has his eyes sight on you as the diamond of the season. after all, why would a duke need to settle for anything less when he can buy the shiniest jewel?

on your dance with him, you give all the template responses. "i would sire as many kids as my husband desires." you are afraid of pregnancy and even more so of raising kids. "of course I read byron!" you hate byron's poetry.

gojo is content, and you, tired of all the stares and hushed whispers that have followed you through the night, leave to get fresh air outside in the terrace. only to overhear:

"a bit simpleminded. has no opinions of substance that should cause conflict. she's perfectly fine for a wife. i shall begin courting her and will soon pro---"

at that moment, you have one thought in your mind: you will never marry satoru gojo. in fact, you abhor him.

cue insults thrown back and forth. when it comes down to having to marry gojo, the most eligible bachelor and the option that will make your parents the proudest, will it be a matter of fillial piety or...love?

dear reader, this season has definitely come forth with many promises of thinly veiled hatred, jealousy, and burning passion.

oops this is longer than the silly little thought i wanted to post but welp. the smut i have planned for this is outright nastyyy

comment if you'd like to be on the taglist for this

i also promise i have not forgotten about beach boy gojo :3 running into a bit of writer's block for that so my inbox is always open for ideas <3