#they just so happen to meet Shoko along the way

[jacrollart]

Coping mechanism : put your tragic ship into a pokemon au where they get to be their very best (and not fuckin die jfc) Geto's companion piece here!

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FAKE DATE SATORU GOJO WITH REAL FEELINGS? ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is the same age as gojo, set during s1 of jjk, fake dating hijinks, drunk! gojo, jealous! reader + gojo, implied satosugu (sorta, i see it more in a soulmate way, whether its platonic or romantic), switch! gojo, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, naoya makes an appearance, gojo clan elders suck, gojo's made up clan responsibilities,

✧ wc: 16,043

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 6 has been sold to @chuluoyi and an anon!

“C’mon, you don’t know until you try, sweetheart,” 

You run at your temples, you didn’t need to feel burgeoning ache of a headache forming to know it was coming — but you knew it would whenever you met with this blue eyed idiot, “Satoru, the last time you said that, you nearly got me killed,” you didn’t care to re-live him sending you on a mission meant for him to take a grade 1 one curse, only to end up fighting two other grade 2 curses along with it. 

You were lucky you made it by the skin of your teeth — and lucky that Shoko woke up when you showed up at her door, half dead. 

“And this time, there’s no risk of death,” he grins, stirring his sugary drink that counts more as sugar than a drink, “that shows great personal growth, don’t ya think?” 

“I think this conversation shows that just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you have an ounce of common sense,” you mutter, as you sip at your drink of choice, “Gojo, I can’t marry you — for one, there would be a risk of death — yours,” 

“Eh you wouldn’t be able to kill me — you’re far too—“ and you raise an eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence, “kind,” 

You rolled your eyes, “One of the traits you’re looking for in your future partner?” 

“The thing is, you wouldn’t have to marry me at all — it would be a big sham!” He said with a thumbs up, as if that made it any better at all, “just for a couple weeks so I can fool the Gojo Clan into complacency and to stop the search for my future spouse — you’d be sparing the hundreds, no thousands, of possible candidates from facing the burden of my rejection,” 

“And I suppose the fact that the clan would get off your back is just a fringe benefit?” You sigh, “Gojo, why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to get married?” 

“I’ve tried — but the stubborn old geezers won’t budge — I’m caught between a rock and a hard place — and you know me,” his lips curl, “I’m a lover, not a fighter,” 

Yup, you have a headache now. 

“What would we have to do to convince them we were together?” 

Why were you considering this? 

“Dates, a few public outings, meeting the geezers because they would insist, and you would need to show your face around the clan compound,” he lists off, sipping at his drink, “there may be other things, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” You may jump off a bridge by the time this is over and done with, “what do you say?” 

“I have two questions,” and he leaned back in his chair, back and forth, impatience personified, “how long would we have to do it?” You didn’t want to be stuck in this arrangement for an undisclosed amount of time, but the second question was far more important, “ And why me?” 

“Three months, maybe longer,” you gape at him, “I can pay you?” you raise an eyebrow, “I will pay you,” you sigh, “and choosing you was easy because—“ 

“If you make some sort of joke about me being single, I don’t care if you have infinity, I’ll find a way to murder you,” you grumble. 

“Because you’re a sorcerer, you’re from a minor clan — so you’re an acceptable choice, and I trust you — you’re one of my closest friends,” he adds, for once his words are deprived of any humor. 

And that answer was…almost worse than the joke. The word “friend” stuck in your side like a thorn you could never pull out, festering and growing until it had become a part of you — that ached only when you thought of it. 

Your feelings for him, they were still there? You thought you had discarded them years ago, thought it was safe for you to move back to Tokyo from Kyoto, thought you had finally left that childhood crush behind — dead and buried — but here it was, still stubbornly clinging to life. 

And now it would thrive with new roots, stems, leaves, and buds if you agreed to this. 

He said your name, “Well?” 

He remains as inscrutable as always, But you could never say no to him, could you? “Okay, fine,” it would also help you out in the form of another problem of Naoya Zenin who had been nothing but persistent since you came back…but you didn’t want to dwell on that. Your eyes find Gojo’s again — as they always did. 

It was why you had left for Kyoto in the first place. 

“Is this really necessary?” you grumbled, as the servants that served the Gojo clan fussed over your clothes — it was a traditional kimono in the colors of your clan — a deep indigo, embroidered with white koi fish that swam along the fabric, embroidered with waves. You supposed you were only grateful that Gojo didn’t leave you to get dressed yourself. 

Gojo watched as they adjusted the obi around your waist, and your eyes remained fixed ahead, but your gaze couldn’t help but wander to him. Satoru Gojo was always unfairly gorgeous — there was a reason people fawned over him even when he had just rolled out of bed without even a once over at his appearance — but those same people probably would have passed out if they saw him as he was now. 

His formal wear was a sky blue — the same as his eyes, a coat draped over his shoulders and loose trousers of snow white that was a nod to hair of the same color. His hair remained unkempt as it always was. 

“Gonna change into that but not comb your hair?” You remark, and he smirks, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well I think if I start being too well behaved, they’ll know it’s fake,” and the word sticks in your chest like a dagger between the ribs, as the servants finally finish with your clothes, and you sigh. 

You straighten yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror, “How is it only been a couple hours and I’m already exhausted?” 

“The suffocating grip of old geezers and their backwards traditions would do that to you,” but his eyes linger on you, “but lucky for you sweetheart, it seems to suit you,” 

“Do you have to call me that?” You murmur, cheeks warming, as you pretend to busy yourself with adjusting your clothes in the mirror. 

“You have to get used to it,” his footsteps draw closer, heart battering against your ribcage as he does — surely, it would break free of its bony cage by the end of this, as he slides a shiny pendant around your neck — a sliver infinity with a singular small blue gem glinting in the middle — “after all, you are mine now, aren’t you?” 

“Gojo, this is—“ 

“Satoru,” he reminds you, as his fingers brush against your neck as he clasps the necklace, “how will it look if someone overhears you calling me by my last name in private?” And your fingers brush against the necklace, toying with the pendant as you positioned it properly, “do you like it? I had it made especially,” 

Especially — the lack of ‘for you,’ stuck out to you, as you force a smile on your lips, “it’s perfect — it will definitely sell the act,” and your eyes can’t find his as he adjusts his sunglasses, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your blindfold,” you turn to face him, “doesn’t it drain you not to wear it?” 

“I can wear sunglasses sometimes — usually I get strange looks if I wear a blindfold in normal society — and here,” he pulls off the glasses as his cerulean irises seem to pierce your very form, “it reminds these old men who holds the cards here,” it was already hard enough for you to meet Gojo’s gaze as it was, it always felt as if he could stare right through you — and now, it felt as it your entire soul was beholden to him, “and as a bonus,” he draws close again, as he holds out his hand for your own. You resist the urge to bite your lip, inside giving your hand as he wished, and he lifts to his lips, before tilting his head to press the back of his hand to your cheek, “now I can look at my beautiful girlfriend unobstructed by these pesky eye coverings,” 

You scoff, “You always have something to say, don’t you?” As you try and fail to move your hand away, “Gojo—“ 

“A good escort should never let their lady walk in without their hand being held, don’t you think?” And you sigh, as he leads you out of the frying pan and into the fire  — you only hoped you wouldn’t be burned — your eyes sliding to Gojo again, fingers toying with the fabric over your chest — in more than one way. 

“So you’ve gotten yourself a partner, eh, boy?” the elderly man sits with his eyes closed as he sips his tea, steam rolling off the surface in droves, but he seemed unbothered by the heat — perhaps because of the steam coming out of his ears, “I’m shocked,” you kept your gaze down, only had greeting him upon entering — stating your name and clan, before kneeling beside Satoru on a cushion. 

“Shocked that someone like me could ever find my match? I know I’m truly one of a kind,” lips curled in that smirk that seemed to annoy almost everyone Satoru Gojo knew — including you — but no one showed the level of irritation that this man showed. 

Gojo may be the head of the Gojo clan — but you supposed there were still people he had to answer too, if only due to age and tradition — the two very things Gojo hated the most. 

“Why bother respecting those for aging when they haven’t done anything for me to respect?” he had said flippantly to Yaga one day during a lesson, “I rather die young than live to the age of these old coots without accomplishing a damn thing,” and then Yaga firmly smacked Gojo on the head right after, for disrespecting Gakuganji during the sister school exchange event. 

And you had a feeling this meeting was about to go as well as that class did. 

“Is this serious? Have you proposed?” and you have to keep a straight face, but your cheeks burn. 

“Now, don’t embarrass me and my girlfriend,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “but this is serious — she’s the only woman I want to marry — and I’ll do anything to accomplish that,” he leans forward with a smile, squeezing your hand, “because I love her, and I only will ever love her,” 

His gaze slides from Gojo to you, eyes boring into your skull, “and do you feel the same?” 

You never have been one for lying — lying was an uncomfortable feeling that twisted and turned in your stomach like questionable leftovers that you took a gamble on eating, ones that wanted to come out the same way it went in. But you had learned with time because sometimes it was necessary for a sorcerer to lie, and when it was between telling a lie or dying, you’re forced to become quite adept at things you hate. 

And you had learned, as you meet his hardened look, the best lies had some truth ingrained in them. 

“I do, Satoru and I went to Jujutsu Tech together, and he’s the only man I ever loved,” perhaps it was too much truth, as you forced your voice to be steady, “he’s frustrating, irritating, full of himself—“ 

“You don’t have to be that honest—“ Satoru grumbled. 

“But he’s also selfless, unendingly kind, a great teacher, and a good person, maybe even the best person I know,” you can’t bear to look at Satoru, “and he’s the only man I want to call my husband,” 

The silence lingers in the room for a moment before the old man grunts, “I’ll believe it when I see it,” 

“What kind of answer was that?” You asked as Satoru walked you back to the room, his fingers still laced with yours. 

“It means we have to make him believe it — but he’ll at least stop arranging these meetings for me with prospectives,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “and what will make him believe it?” 

He smirks, as he tugs you a little closer, fingers under your chin, “I could kiss you right now, might sell the act,” 

“No one can see us,” 

“Someone’s always watching,” he murmurs, leaning far too close as your breath catches, eyes widening before they flutter shut and you wait. But instead his lips brush your forehead, followed by a flick, “gotcha,” 

Your eyes snap open in a glare, “Gojo!” And he’s cackling. 

“Satoru,” he corrects, as his hand leaves yours as he opens the sliding door to the room, “you coming?” 

You pout, rubbing your forehead, as you brush past him — this was going to be a long few weeks. 

“Why do I even have to go to this?” You were being led through a bustling mall, his arm around your waist, as if to prevent you from escaping (good idea). Your lips twisted in a grimace, you allowed him to drag you along, knowing him, he would carry you over his shoulder without a hint of shame (you don’t think he even contained the word shame in his own vernacular), “can’t you go and wear a ring and go by yourself?” 

“A ring is not as good as having you on my arm now is it?” he bumps you with his hip, “plus, we’re not engaged yet, unless this is a proposal,” he raises an eyebrow, and your cheeks burn. 

“Shut up, I’d never propose to you,” he laughs, but it’s almost strained.

“Never propose to me like that right? Because I deserve a better proposal than that,” he sighs, leading you into a store, “come on, we have to find you a nice outfit for the wedding,” 

You glance at the store, your jaw dropping, “Gojo, this store is so expensive, I can’t afford this—“ 

He lowers his sunglasses just to show you that he’s rolling his eyes, “Who said you’re paying, Princess?” You stare at him, slack jawed, while a salesperson comes up to the two of you — though she’s clearly only interested in one of you. 

“Hi, what can I help you with finding today?” her lips curled in a smile, as she twirled a strand of her around her fingers, “I’d be more than happy to assist you,” her gaze completely fixed on Gojo, without the slightest hint of acknowledgment for you to spare. 

You bite back a scowl, plastering on a fake smile, as you lean into Gojo, “My boyfriend is looking to buy me an outfit for a wedding we’re attending — baby, could you tell her what style you want me to wear?” 

Gojo glances at you, a flicker of surprise that is quickly covered up by a smirk, his arm tightening around your waist, “Yes, I have to make sure my sweetheart is looking her best — so can you please find these styles of dresses for me?” You can’t help the smile on your lips as the salesperson shuffles away, lips a thin line rather than the grin she once had. 

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Gojo chuckles, and you roll your eyes, hoping your expression didn’t give your heart away, the feelings you had stuffed into a crevice of your chest that threatened to burst. 

So you choose to turn it on him instead, as you meet his gaze with a small smirk, “I don’t like people taking what’s mine,” 

But he only takes it in stride, only as Gojo can, “I’m yours, huh?” 

You shrug, choosing to hurt yourself rather than let him do it, “at least for the next two to three months,” and your gaze snaps away and looks to the saleswoman as she comes back with a selection, “if you get to choose my dress, I get to choose a suit for you, deal?” 

Gojo raises an eyebrow, but smiles, “Anything for you, princess.” 

“You just wanted to see me model for you, didn’t you?” Gojo emerges from the changing room in a black button down and white suit coat with a matching white tie — as he tilts his head, “I would say my best suit is my birthday suit,” and you grimace, “oh c’mon, it was a good joke, although—“ 

“Don’t say it’s true,” you lean back, phone in hand as you snap a picture as you did for the last three, “I love to see that self confidence of yours has grown into full blown arrogance,” 

“How can I not be arrogant when I see you snapping pictures of me?” He crosses his arms, the fabric taut and straining over his chest, the top button undone, showing off the adam’s apple that bobs in his throat, “it’s definitely a step up from when you ignored me,” 

You snap from your thoughts, “When did I ignore you?” 

“When we graduated Jujutsu Tech, you’d spend time with Nanami or spend a weekend with Shoko, but whenever I was around, you wouldn’t even reply to a text,” your eyes fall to the floor, chewing your lip, “it wasn’t always like that — I thought we were close,”

It was true — but it wasn’t because you hated him. It was the opposite. You had tried to be his friend, but the more you were his friend, the more it hurt — hurt to see him smile at you like everyone else, hurt to see him with his eyes on the one he wanted, and with his arm around Suguru. 

And you really didn’t hate Suguru —  it was the opposite really — you thought they were perfect, a person who grounded him, made him a better person, and with a much tighter grip on reality than Gojo did — perhaps too tight. Too tight that it shattered apart in his hands, the pieces too far gone to pick out — and too far gone to save him. 

You tried to be there for him — knock on his door when you knew he was home and force him to shower while you and Shoko cleaned up his room. You stayed even when Shoko had long left, holding his hand as he hid his tears from you with his back turned, and you didn’t admit you could hear his nearly silent tears. But eventually, it turned into movie nights, meals shared, and even grocery runs. 

And it became harder and harder to hide how you felt — each minute spent with him was another drop in a bucket that was already overflowing to begin with. At first it had been a crush — an unattainable crush that you were happy to leave at just that. But eventually, it became so much more — you had fallen in love with him, when you really shouldn’t have. Because he didn’t need a partner — he needed a friend. 

“Gojo, I didn’t ignore you—“ 

“I’ve called you sweetheart, did your number change and then magically change back when you came back to Tokyo?” 

But once he had pulled himself together, you were graduating and you requested to be put in Kyoto — your excuse being you were tired being in the city — but to Satoru, you gave no excuse, you quietly left without a word. Because you were really tired of having your heart broken — so you needed space, and you were willing to do anything to get it. 

“Gojo, I didn’t really talk much to Nanami or Shoko when I left either, I just needed space—“ 

“Space from what?” You sighed, parting your lips when his phone rings. He checks it before taking it, “another mission? Yeah, I can leave tonight,” you bit your lip, “send Ijichi to take me to the airport. Yeah, ok,” and he hangs up, “we’ll have to cut this short. I have to go overseas,” 

“How long will you be gone?” 

“Probably just a few days. I’ll be back soon,” you bite your lip, and he tilts his head, “you worried about me, Princess?” 

You flush, opening and closing your mouth, “I am,” and he blinks, seemingly surprised, “come back safe. Text me to let me know when you land,” 

His lips curl, as he ruffles your hair, “I will — and I’ll be back soon enough. Promise,” and he pauses, “you want a souvenir?” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“I want to,” he cuts you off, and your cheeks warm. 

And just then, he gets a text, “Ijichi Is almost here. I’ll have him drop you back first,” and he turns to change out of his clothes.

“Satoru,” you catch him by the sleeve, and he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you after all of that. It had nothing to do with you, there was just a lot going on—“ he says your name, but you shake your head, “but it won’t happen again, I promise,”

“Good,” he steps back into the changing room, a grin on his lips, “I wouldn’t let you get away this time anyway, sweetheart.” 

“Gojo?” You say again, and he tilts his head, “get the indigo suit,” 

He grins, “and you have good taste, well, of course you do,” he holds the door open, “I am your boyfriend after all.” 

And the door of the fitting room swings shut, and you hope he’s not looking at you, as your cheeks burn, your heart squeezing in spite of every thought of your mind telling not to go there — not to go down that road, but you should have known, the moment you said yes to this plan—

You were already there. 

You had never known that the buzz of your phone could make you more happy — or anxious. 

But it had been over the course of the last few days. Because you’re probably an idiot, but that wasn’t the point. 

how bad of an idea would it be for me to try this Karanga and Chapati place that Yuta recommended? 

You snorted, Satoru, the last time you had curry — that wasn’t even that spicy, you couldn’t taste anything for a week.

Another buzz, But Yuta said it’s not so bad

You roll your eyes, imagining the pout he undoubtedly has on his lips — Yuta has never seen you cry over a bowl of curry — stick with your desserts, and you chuckle as you add: you may be the strongest but you have the weakest taste buds 

It takes some time for another response to come — and when it does, you realize a grave error on your part was made: never point out any flaw to this idiot because he will take it as a challenge. 

This is Yuta — Gojo-sensei tried it and he’s now in the bathroom. He told me to tell you he’d text you later. 

This was how the last few days flew by — texts with updates about his mission, his work, and his check-ins with Yuta. And the night before he was flying back, just as you were cooking dinner, he called you— 

“Gojo? Isn’t it 2:00 AM there right now?” 

“You learned the time difference for me?” you heard his words slur over the other line, “Sweethearttttt,” I went out with Yuta and Miguel, and I may have gotten a littttttle tipsy,” 

“Isn’t it like 2:00 AM there?” 

He clicks his tongue, “Miguel challenged me to a drinking contest,” and you groan, rubbing a hand down your face, “but they got me back into my hotel room, even though I’m not tired,” he mumbles, as you hear the crinkle of his bedsheets and the rustling of his comforter. 

“Have you drank water? How much alcohol did you have?” 

“Are you worried about me?” he giggles, before sighing, “I’m glad,” 

“Why are you glad?” You hold the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you stir the pan with your dinner currently in it. 

“Because it means you care about me,” he murmurs, “everyone who cares about me always leaves,” he gives a small bitter chuckle, “maybe it’s better for you not to care about me. It’s dangerous to care about someone like me — the type to die young or live far too long,” 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he mutters, voice growing thick with sleep, “call me Satoru,” and his soft snores fill your ear as he falls into the sandman’s grasp — a small reprieve from his feelings — while you were left to dwell in them. 

All this time you had been thinking how you felt, what you were dealing with, what you wanted — and all these years and you hadn’t thought about how your actions made him felt. You thought he was beyond any hurt you could possibly inflict — his infinity meant that he was leagues above anywhere you could possibly reach — but it didn’t. 

He wasn’t. He was a person — and when had you stopped treating him as one? 

You texted Yuta: make sure your sensei is lying on his side and make him drink some water. And don’t let Miguel goad him into drinking ever again. 

Yuta: got it. sorry about that sensei — gojo wouldn’t listen

You scoffed, chuckling at how Yuta called you sensei but did not afford Gojo the same courtesy. 

You stayed on the phone with Gojo, hearing Yuta come in and persuading him to drink some water, before he fell back asleep, but even in his drunken state, he wouldn’t give up his phone — Yuta snapping a picture and sending it to you. You laughed when you saw it — loml with a dozen hearts and a picture of you in your obi, clearly taken when you weren’t looking, but it wasn’t those things that made you laugh — it was the way Gojo clung to his phone, fingers wrapped around it desperately, as he slept. 

You stayed on the phone with him all night, even when you went to bed — of course just to make sure he’s fine — the call waking you when it disconnected after reaching the max call time. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the time — 5:00 AM. And almost like clockwork, your phone rings again, Gojo’s number flashing on your screen. 

You pick up, “Mm, hello?” you yawn, “finally awake sleeping beauty?” 

“Glad you finally decided to acknowledge my beauty,” his voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, and god, you can’t help but imagine waking to this voice every day — “ugh I have a headache,” he murmurs, the crumple you hear must be him burying his face in his pillow because the next question he asks is muffled, “why were we on the phone?” 

“You called me last night after drinking, and refused to hang up after Yuta helped you get settled,” you chuckle, as you hear his groan over the phone, “I got a new contact picture for you out of it, love of my life,” 

“Glad you’re finally on board,” he mutters, growing quiet, “why didn’t you hang up?” 

You pause, “what do you mean?” You ask slowly. 

“You could’ve hung up at any time, but you stayed on the phone, even when you fell asleep,” his voice was soft, “why?” 

“I just,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t lie to him, at least not completely, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and you didn’t want to hang up — so I didn’t,” 

He’s silent for a moment, and you almost wish you could sink into the Earth — but he only says, “okay, now what’s the plan for the day, Princess?” 

Your lips curl, “Well my day has not really began yet since it’s 5:00 AM here, so I’m probably going to sleep for several hours and wake up at an hour that is not bereft of god,” 

“You really couldn’t just say ‘ungodly?’” He snorts. 

“Well, 5:00 AM makes me wax poetic, what can I say?” Another yawn parts your lips, “I’m going to sleep,” 

But he doesn’t hang up, “I’ll be here, sweetheart.”  

You glanced at the time, he’s late. 

Well, he wouldn’t be Gojo if he didn’t make an entrance. You slumped on the couch — even if he was getting home from his mission, there was no guarantee he’d stop by your place to see you. He might want to just go home — or stop by Jujutsu Tech, or be anywhere else. You couldn’t have expectations — expectations were only a  way to be disappointed, a drop from soaring that would only be met with the impact of the cold, unforgiving ground. 

Especially expectations from a fake relationship. You lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling — why were being such an idiot about this? The TV drones on in the background, illuminating the dark of the living room, as you sit barely paying attention to a random rom com you had picked. 

Maybe it was because Satoru had spent the rest of today on the phone with you, even through a security check (warning the security officers not to hang up his call) and at the gate. And then every day after that, he had called and texted you like clockwork — stupid things— good morning and good night, random memes that made him think of you, pictures of his day (including ones of him messing with his students), questions of what sweet you wanted from the shop he had decided to frequent, calls about your day and his own, and hours long conversations about nothing at all. Maybe because you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke to you — or maybe it was because you were just down bad. 

It was probably the latter. 

You take a throw pillow and pull it over your face. What were you thinking? Falling for your old crush and fake boyfriend a night before a wedding was a trope in a bad rom com that you spent your weekend night watching — it shouldn’t be how you feel. 

“That’s a nice look,” you jump, pulling the pillow away, to be met with Gojo’s gaze hidden behind another pair of sunglasses, “honey, I’m home,” 

You bite back your smile, “one, this isn’t your home, and two, how did you get inside?” 

“It’s pretty easy when you can teleport, you should try it sometime,” he sits beside you, more like collapses as he falls into the couch, his head resting against the top, “although if someone moved in with me, it’d be much easier,” and you laugh. 

“Shouldn’t you ask a girl out before you ask her to move in?” he shrugs, his arm resting across the top of the couch. 

“I’m anything but traditional,” he sighs, glancing at the TV, “what are we watching?” 

“A bad rom com,” 

He snorts, “watching it to mercilessly pick it apart?” And you raise an eyebrow, “what? I did stay awake for some of those movies— it was some of my favorite memories during that time and some of the only times I could actually sleep,” 

“Yeah, it was a nice way for both of us to turn our brains off for a bit,” you glanced at him, “thought it’d be nice for us too,” his gaze slides to you curiously, “I know there’s been a lot on your mind — with itadori and the special grades,” 

He sighs, running fingers through his hair,  “Yeah, old geezers seem to cause problems in all parts of my life,” you snort, “can’t believe they’d try to do away with Itadori while I was gone,” 

“They don’t see anyone as innocent — they see whether you’re an asset or a threat, unfortunately, they see Itadori not as the former,” you shake your head, as your eyes stare at the movie flashing on the screen, but you don’t really watch, “they’re too far gone to see the innocence of children,” 

“You sound like Kento,” and your eyes meet his, his cerulean gaze already on you, his sunglasses discarded on your coffee table. 

“Funny, thought I sounded like you,” he blinks a moment, “Satoru, you’re all about preserving the youth of children — that’s why you saved Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji — even when you had every reason not to,” 

“How could I not? Youth belongs to the young after all,” a wistful smile on his lips, “i don’t want the same to happen to them that happened to us,” 

“To us,” you repeat, a sharp pain sticks between your ribs at the flash of Haibara’s smile and the whisper of Suguru’s laugh, “more like to them,” 

“Yeah,” a silence falling over the two of you as the white noise of the TV filled the quiet, “but sometimes I think we went down along with them,” 

You shake your head, “I think a part of us did — a part of us will stay there—“ frozen in time and seeping like poison in our bones, “but we’re still here,” you risk to toe the line you’d never cross, your fingers brushing his, “and it’s not over for us,” 

And his eyes flicker to your fingers threaded with his, as his fingers squeeze yours slowly, the corner of his lips quirk upwards, as you stretch and sit up, fingers falling away from his, a yawn on your lips, “should we get some sleep?” 

“Come on, let’s finish the movie,” he murmurs, even though sleep seems to weigh heavily on his body, eyelids fluttering shut as he turns to you, cheek pressed against the couch, “hey,” he murmurs, “it wasn’t the movies that let me relax,” and you can hear the unspoken meaning in those words — but that was the problem. 

It was unspoken. 

Your fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to brush your fingers against his cheek — but you can’t. 

You’d allowed yourself to toe the line you’d long drawn in the sand that you’d built into a wall — you had even allowed yourself to stir a few bricks from its place, but you couldn’t cross it. Not now. 

Your eyes are growing heavy. Maybe not ever. 

Your neck hurts. 

The first thought you have as you rouse into aching consciousness. Why was it so bright? Did you forget to draw your curtains? You draw an arm over your face, already dreading the waking hours, until you realize it’s your day off, and you sigh, relaxing into your bed. 

Or what you thought was your bed. 

Except your bed couldn’t move, nor could it pull you closer. But now something or someone was, an arm around your waist with movement behind you that made breath warm your ear. And you probably would have screamed, if you hadn’t heard the familiar voice whisper your name in your ear. 

Gojo. 

Gojo??? 

Your head slowly turned to be met with the strongest sorcerer very much passed out, half behind you, half on top of you — his blue eyes hidden under his eyelids for once instead of any covering that he used to protect himself. His snowy white locks brushed against your skin, the close proximity doing nothing to alleviate your feelings — you had only hoped you could see one flaw, one ick, and maybe you’d be done. But on Satoru Gojo? The man born to be perfect — the same one who sang karaoke for the first time as a teen only to be so incredible that it moved your server to tears? 

You really should have fucking known better. 

Your breath caught, and you wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment—if no one had, you would surely be the first case. You were always a trail blazer. 

And you tried to shift again, if only to maneuver yourself out of this situation, but he moved along with you, seeking out the contact he was losing. And this only ended with him lying on top of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and his legs straddling one of your legs— and then you felt it — a very distinct bulge pressed against your thigh. 

Fuck. Your. Life. 

He mumbled in his sleep, nose brushing against the hollow of your neck, drawing another shiver from your body. You had a rare opportunity to touch him — didn’t you, no infinity between the two of you — just him and you. You were in a position probably many desired to be in — admirers and enemies alike (neither category being mutually exclusive). You supposed old habits die hard — and so did old crushes. 

Could you let yourself enjoy this for a moment? Enjoy the feeling, no matter how real it never would be? Maybe it was wrong, but — your eyes fluttered shut as your arm wrapped loosely around Gojo — you certainly didn’t want to be the one to wake up first. 

And you weren’t — your eyes flutter open to movement, and your eyes meet cerulean eyes, lips parted in surprise, “Morning,” he manages, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks, “did we fall asleep?” 

“I guess we did,” you bite your lip, “are you going to—” 

And he blinks, before scrambling off of you, “Sorry,” he mumbles, as he turns away to fidget with his phone. 

“Guess that was one very boring movie,” you murmur. 

“Or I was in a very comfortable bed,” he replies with a smirk that turns to a grimace. 

“What is it?” 

“Naoya Zenin is making an appearance at the wedding we’re attending tomorrow,” and you groan, as he raises an eyebrow, “how many proposals had he made you?” 

You scoff, “Proposals? More like propositions,” you shake your head, already aching from the sleep you had barely shaken off and now it had graduated to a shooting pain that made your eye twitch at the thought of that man, “he’s offered to do me the ‘honor’ of being the next heir’s husband half a dozen times. If he ever becomes the head of the Zenin clan, I may help Maki annihilate them myself,” 

Naoya Zenin — the most pretentious and egocentric man you had the displeasure of meeting. Even his pretty face could do nothing to fix his hideous personality ridden with misogyny, hatred, and spite. And you’d been offered his hand in marriage half a dozen times due to your lineage in a lesser known clan family with a unique cursed energy. It was a strategic move to try and secure his place — as was every move he made — he had no room for anyone he deemed useless to his plan. 

Unfortunately, you did not fall into that special category.

“That won’t happen,” Gojo replies, texting on his phone, “plus, he’s too weak to force that to happen — not to mention he’s a first class prick,” 

“You say that, but you basically propositioned me,” you teased, as his eyes flit up from his phone, as you rise from the couch, “quite the proposal you came to me with,” 

He pauses a moment, a small smile on his lips, “one, i don’t recall proposing, and trust me that’s something I’d remember,” and you roll your eyes, “and two, aren’t you just as bad, since you said yes, sweetheart?” 

“Can you blame a girl wanting a little extra money?” And he locks his phone, drawing close, your breath catching as he lets himself linger for a second too long. 

“Can you blame a man for wanting a beautiful and intelligent woman?” And he’s leaning close, but he leans back, only grabbing his coat from the couch, still slung over as it had been. He spares you a smirk at your bewildered expression, “close your mouth, you’ll catch flies, princess, and what a shame that would be,” you scowl, and he laughs as he heads to the door, slipping on his shoes, with a final glance and grin thrown over his shoulder as he opened your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” 

Right. Tomorrow. The wedding. 

Fuck. You were so screwed. 

KNOCK. KNOCK. 

Fuck. You scrambled from your vanity as you finished putting the finishing touches on your look for tonight. You didn’t think Satoru Gojo of all people could ever be on time, but you supposed there was a first time for everything. 

You slipped the dress over your head, careful not to smear your makeup or mess up your hair. You were starting to regret not having the Gojo family’s attendants get you ready for this event, if only so you could have turned your mind off for this time. But you knew all too well that your mind could never give you a break — with all of that free time came free real estate for your anxiety to set up camp and put down roots for all the things that could possibly go wrong. So it was better this way, as you reach for the ties on the back of your dress — of course, maybe if you had let yourself be helped, you could actually have someone to tie your corset back on this dress. 

Another knock. 

“Sweetheart?” You hear Gojo’s muffled voice through the door, “you’re not planning on standing me up are you?” 

You stumble your way to the door, clutching the back of your dress, as you take a breath and throw it open, “Can you tie the back of my dress?” 

Fuck. He looked gorgeous. His hair was parted and combed off to the side, a deep blue suit coat and a crisp white collared shirt tucked into a matching suit pant. A pair of sunglasses were tucked into the chest pocket of his jacket in front of a white pocket square. 

“No hello, ‘can you tie my dress?’” Gojo tilts his head, his eyes graze over your appearance, as he steps inside and closes the door behind him, “turn around,” And you do, fingers still clutching at the fabric at the back of your dress, cheeks burning as you do, “gonna have to let go, and let me help you, sweetheart,” 

You slowly let go, but his warm fingers brush against the skin of your bare back as he holds the dress up from slipping, carefully lacing the corset, “I was right, blue is your color,” he murmurs, as he tugs lightly at the strings, “let me know when it’s tight enough,” 

“It’s good now,” you sigh — though the corset wasn’t as tight as your chest now, you face him now, trying to adjust your hair. 

“Let me,” one hand cups your chin gently, your breath catching and you can only hope he can’t feel your pulse through your skin. His fingers run through your soft tresses, your eyes unable to meet his — but you wonder if he can see right through you anyway — “you’ve never been good at asking for help,” 

“Look who’s talking,” you glare at him, as he chuckles, “well, I asked you didn’t I?” 

“Why did you ask me?” You raise an eyebrow, “I’m sure you could have asked anyone,” 

“Well, I didn’t want just anyone,” he murmurs, fingers tracing the blush you had lined your cheeks with, “I wanted you,” 

“Why?” And he parts his lips, a soft smile that pulls at his features — was it a hint of pink across his cheeks. 

“Because—“ and your phone goes off — a reminder with the time of the wedding. And the moment’s broken, as reality settles over you again, “We’ll be late,” 

“I don’t mind being late,” and a heat burns from his touch, from the tips of your fingers to the his fingers leave your cheek, warmth fading as quickly as it came, but he offers his hand, “but if it’s for you, I can be on time,” and your fingers find his, interlacing, before he tugs you close, his arm around your waist, “as long as you stay by my side.”

You never were one for weddings. At least not one like this. 

A stuffy event held in an extravagant manner — a large banquet hall for the reception, but now the guests roamed the gardens the hall opened out into — lush greenery serving as a perfect backdrop for this wedding — a distant branch of the Zenin family was marrying, which meant all of the main clans were invited to attend. Including several elders of the Gojo clan. 

And now you were being subjected to this as well — several dozen eyes on you — all due to the man whose arm you were on. His arm wrapped almost protectively around your waist, his lips nearly brushed against your ear when he whispered in it, letting you know just exactly who was coming over. 

“I didn’t think you were one to care for remembering these things,” you wave at the couple that just left the two of you, his fingers grazing the skin behind your ear as he tucked a stray strand behind it. 

“I usually don’t care, but I know it’d make you uncomfortable otherwise, especially among all these people,” he smirks, his fingers finding yours, and squeezing, “plus, we need to make a good impression, don’t we?” 

“I think we’re making an impression just by being together,” you murmur, and he raises an eyebrow, “everyone’s staring — didn’t you notice?” and he shrugs, a sly smile on his lips. 

“Didn’t notice,” he tilts his head, his eyes fixed on you, “I was too busy looking elsewhere, I guess,” 

Your cheeks burn, but as your lips part to respond, you see him walking over to the discreet corner you had parked yourselves in,  “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, your fingers tightening around his. 

Naoya Zenin strides over in a black yukata kimono, his silver hair pushed back, his lips twisted in a slimy smile that made your skin crawl, your name leaving his lips, “it’s been far too long, you’re looking lovely,” his eyes raked over you like hot coals, “though the company you keep—” 

“Has improved markedly,” Satoru’s lips curl in a grin, “do you have business with my girlfriend?” 

Naoya raises an eyebrow, “Girlfriend?” 

Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, “I didn’t realize you went hard of hearing — I know your hair had started to go, but your hearing too—” you hid your snort poorly, Naoya’s sharp gaze flickering between the two of you. 

“I’m younger than you are, and my hair is bleached,” he snaps, “or are those six eyes not sharp enough to see that as well? They certainly aren’t enough for you to have found Suguru Geto before he caused a war,” 

And Satoru’s hurt is imperceptible — a hint of hurt that only shows in the tightness of his jaw for a millisecond, before he’s only giving another laugh. 

“At least I am already the head of my clan, because even if I were without my six eyes,” he smirks, but a certain meanness pulls at his features, “I’m still not as weak as you are—”

Naoya’s expression sours, curdled into a foul scowl, “What did you—” 

“Alright,” you hold up your hands, “Let’s save the dick measuring contest for later, okay? This is a wedding, let’s not cause a scene, ok?” you glance between the two of them, and Satoru pouts — while Naoya seems all too pleased, a grin broken across his lips. 

“This is why you’re the perfect woman — you know how to mediate between men’s egos, and—” 

“Naoya, I said let’s not cause a scene, and you’re two steps away from me causing one right now,” you snap, “I wasn’t interested the first dozen times you asked me when I was single, so why would you think I’d be interested now, when I have a boyfriend?” 

His face flushes red, and you’re not sure whether it’s in anger or embarrassment, “I doubt you’re even really a couple,” he hisses, “I know all about the proposals that this idiot has been getting and the pressure to marry,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sure you’ll come running to me once he’s done using you—“ 

Satoru surges forward, but you press a hand against his chest, “We don’t need to justify our relationship to you, so think what you want — but even if Satoru and I break up, I rather die single than ever spend a minute with you,” and you look at Satoru, your gaze softening, “and I rather spend be single for the rest of my life than spend another minute without him,” and you slide your eyes back to Naoya, his fists clenched, as you lean in, “so fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but the staff begin to wave everyone into their seats, and the wedding begins. The two of you sit, a silence falling over as others take their seats beside you. A subtle tension as music filled the air and the wedding proceedings began—but you could have cared less— god what the fuck had you said to Naoya? How had Gojo taken it? Does he know how you feel? Does he think it’s an act? 

Then his fingers find yours, “Thank you,” he whispers softly, managing only those two words before the wedding begins. 

And it dawns on you — it wasn’t what you said, it was the fact you had defended him, your heart aches, it was the fact you had defended him when Naoya insulted Suguru. 

Your eyes stay fixed forward as the ceremony begins — it was never about you — as you pulled your fingers away from him. 

Like it always never was. 

The wedding ceremony goes by — as does the reception, without much to-do. The only silver lining is that there’s far too much small talk for the two of you to have a moment to talk alone, especially when the two of you spot the Gojo clan elders side-eyeing you from the table of old folks, not to mention Naoya hovering around that same table, the same scowl on his face. The only remark that Satoru whispered as the two of you floated by the table pointedly, a smirk on his lips as he waved and held you close to his side — “one quick hollow purple could solve my problems,” 

You gave a forced chuckle at that — unfortunately not yours. 

And finally, the two of you head home — in relative silence, the drive being short to Gojo’s apartment, where your car was parked. You sigh as he pulls in, “I’ll head out I guess—” 

“Why don’t you just stay the night?” and your gaze snaps to his, the first time all night, “it’s really late, and I have a guest room—” 

“My apartment isn’t—” 

“Your apartment isn’t far, but I thought we could…talk,” and your heart gallops to a start — talking was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“What is there to talk about?” And his fingers brush against your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“Maybe about why you can’t meet my eyes?” You huff, looking away. 

“Can you blame me? Your blue eyes are freaky,” you grumble, and you can hear the judgment in the silence, a first for Gojo,  “Gojo, what do you want me to say?” 

He stays quiet for a moment, “You don’t have to say anything, just come inside,” So you do — following him inside, the silence hanging over you like a guillotine waiting to slice, “Thank you for what you said—“ 

The door clicks behind him, as you stop, “Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you’re shaking your head. 

“You don’t have to thank me, I was just—“ 

“But what you said—“ 

“I said what I had to—“ 

“You didn’t have to say all that, Princess,” his voice grows soft, “you know you didn’t,” and he’s drawing closer across his living room. 

“He was upsetting you,” you murmur, eyes unable to find his again, falling instead to his plush carpet laid against his hardwood, “I couldn’t stand by and let him — I know it hurt when he brought up Suguru—“ 

“Suguru?” he repeats, and your eyes find his, finally, and you find his brow furrowed, “is that what you think I was thanking you for?” 

“What else would you—“ and he’s stepping even closer, your breath stuck in your throat as his fingertips graze your cheek again, “Satoru—“ 

“Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” he murmurs, a soft chuckle in his voice, “you always look beautiful, but tonight in particular, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“That’s just it, I don’t have to,” his palm slides against your cheek, “I want to — I want to when it’s you,” 

“But, i can’t do this, not like this,” tears burn at the corners of your eyes, water threatening to spill out of a too full glass that had been full for far too long, “not when it will give me—“ you cut yourself off before you cut your own heart out, but he’s only forcing the scalpel back into your hand. 

“Give you what?” 

And you can’t turn back now — you’d turned from this road far too many times, sprinted in the opposite direction only to end up here again — you needed to do this, even if it lead to a dead end cliff, “Give me the wrong idea,” and you’re turning away, but his hand catches you by the wrist, “stop, I—“ 

“It’s not the wrong idea,” and you stop. 

No, it was. It was, right? 

“Satoru—“ and his fingers find your own, as he steps closer, “please, don’t—“ 

“If you want me to really stop and forget about this, I will,” he murmurs, “I’ll turn around and open the door and let you go home right now, sweetheart. I won’t bring this up again,” but you don’t move away, you don’t say anything, so he continues, “but if you don’t want that, and you want the same thing I do—“ 

“And what is it that you want?” And you hear his soft chuckle, his cheek brushing against you, as his fingers tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“I thought that was obvious, but I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you,” he squeezes your hand, as he guides your face to look back at him, his lips curled in a small smile, “I want you,” 

Your breath is shaky, no, no — he doesn’t mean that, “No you don’t,” 

He tilts his head, “You don’t think I don’t know what I want?” 

“Satoru, I don’t want to be a substitute for others—“ 

And his hands are sliding around your middle, pulling you closer, “You think I could ever think of you as a second choice?” 

“But—“ and every doubt from when you were younger wells up, every fear of not being enough — but they are erased away, crumbled into dust, by the way he looks at you — entire multitudes of skies all made to look at you. 

“You keep finding reasons not to do this,” and his fingers skim your cheek, before resting under your chin, “but have you tried finding a reason why we should?” 

“Satoru—“ you can’t help but lean into his touch — god, he was a temptation personified — everything you ever wanted, even when you tried not to want it. These feelings were never fake — so why not give in? Just this once. Your fingers slide against his cheek, and you can feel his skin burn under your touch, “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“No, sweetheart,” he leans in even closer, your breaths becoming one, “but I’d love to find out,” 

His lips brush yours — it’s chaste, hesitant, testing the waters — he tastes like sugar, and you almost laugh — he tastes like the frosting from the wedding cake that he had swiped a slice of on the way out that he finished before you two had reached his car. His eyes flutter open for half a second, before your lips are crashing to his this time — a new record for addiction? A second maybe and you were too far gone. 

His hands cup your cheeks, one sliding to the back of your neck, as the other slides down to your waist to pull you ever closer. 

“Did you find it out?” You murmur between kisses, lips meeting and parting if only to allow you both a breath. And his snowy eyelashes flutter, as his lips quirk upwards. 

“Think I need another,” and his lips swallow any coherent thoughts you have, his hands slipping down your sides, lips parting again, “another,” he murmurs, a kiss, “another,” 

“How many do you need?” you ask breathlessly, a chuckle caught in your throat, and his lips press desperate kisses along your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 

“Is infinity an answer?” And you laugh, “have to take responsibility — I’m addicted to you,” 

“And if I’m addicted?” His hands squeeze your hips, drawing a gasp from your lips. 

“I’d be more than happy to take responsibility for you, Princess — always have,” 

Your heart beats against the bars of its cage, threatening to burst out — but you couldn’t — not without knowing, “And if you break my heart?”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” he leans down to press butterfly kisses to your cheek, “but even if I do, I’ll put it back together,” 

“Promise?” You murmur, and his lips meet yours again, and again, as he’s leading you towards his bedroom, his fingers running through your hair.

And the door to his bedroom swings shut, “Promise.”  

“How long are you going to tease me?” you’re grumbling, cheeks hot and eyes averted, the back of your hand pressed against your lips, as Satoru presses needy kisses along your neckline of your dress. 

He looks up at you through his snowy lashes, and you don’t know if you want to slap the smile off his lips or kiss it off, “You’ve been teasing me for years, you can’t give me this time, sweetheart?” His teeth graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “plus, do y’know how fun it is to watch you squirm?” 

Slap. It’s definitely a slap. 

“You’re insufferable,” and he smirks when your breath catches when his lips ghost over the swell of your chest. 

“Yet you’re the one who's under me—“ and you try to get up only for him to pin you back down, a pout on his lips, “alright, alright, can’t blame me for wanting to see you squirm, Princess, how many chances will I get?” 

“Only this one if you keep this up,” and he’s finding your lips in a languid kiss, an apology with no words, a smile filled with affection that only made it hard for you to feign annoyance. 

“Then I better make this count,” he’s gently helping you up, turning you around to undo your corset strings — but you wonder if he’s undoing it or tangling it, “why did we choose a dress with such a complicated back?” It’s his turn to grumble and it only draws a giggle from you. 

“Surprised you haven’t hollow purple’d it by now,” 

“Trust me if you weren’t in it, I would have,” he sighs, as the fabric begins to loosen up, slipping off your shoulders. 

“And here I thought you were good at everything,” you chuckle as he helps you shimmy out of the dress, the fabric falling away from you in a small pool around your ankles. Pools of blue rake over your exposed body, raising goosebumps in its wake, as your arms reflexively try to cover yourself, but his hands find your own, easing them away. 

“I’m good at what counts, Princess,” he kisses your wrist, pulse jumping under his touch, nose brushing against it, he hovers over you, as he undoes his tie, fingers tugging at the knot, as he undoes the top button of his shirt, “and I’ll show you.” 

~~~~

Satoru had dreamed of this — of you and him. He knew when he realized it — although it was too late when he did. Maybe it was the night before you left — the night after graduation — before you left — you had fallen asleep watching the movie you had put on. Your lips parted and mouth ajar, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were out. He had leaned over to grab his phone to snap a picture to tease you with later, only for your fingers to grab onto him, your head on his shoulder, a quiet murmur of his name. 

“Satoru,” — not Gojo, as you had always called him. And he knew he wanted to hear you say it again and again. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair away, his head leaning against yours.

Suguru was everything to him for a time — he had come to Satoru at a time where he thought no one else would ever be able to understand him. No one else would be able to reach him — because how does a person reach for a god? But here you were — and the way your head rested on his shoulder and your lips said his name made him want nothing more than you by his side. 

And when you left — you didn’t reply to his messages, you disappeared, just like everyone else did in his life. He was always left alone in the end — maybe it was his fate. 

But then you came back — came back almost right after Suguru left for good. And that part of his heart that was meant for you began to thrive again and again — as he spent more time with you. 

And god, when his clan started to pressure him to find someone to marry — he wrote them off as he always did. He thought he could ride out the ridiculous proposals and dates they had arranged for him — but as he thought more about who he wanted to spend his time with, who he wanted to see after a tiring mission, and who he couldn’t imagine being without —- 

And he realized it was you. 

“Satoru, don’t tease me,” you pouted, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, legs spread for him, his eyes flirting between your all too cute expression and the growing wet patch on your panties, “fuck, please—“ 

“Gonna have to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, his arm hooked under your knee, your foot pressed against his back, “where do you want me?” 

“You fuck-er—“ the last syllable is a gasp as he kisses your sensitive clit through your soaked underwear, “Toru—“ a whine leaves your throat. 

Fuck, you’re so cute, his fingers toy with the elastic of your panties — and all of this was worth it, worth it to see if these feelings were what he thought they were, worth it to make you smile, and worth to end up with you. 

“How can I refuse you when you say my name like that?” he’s tugging your underwear away, exposing your sipping cunt to a rush of air and his warm breath, “all this f’me, baby?” You mumble something he can’t quite make out, “what was that?” 

Your glassy eyes look up at him, blown wide with lust, “Only f’you, Satoru,” fuck, his dick twitches — he could bust just looking at you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, “g’nna make me cum just with your words,” but he diverts his attention to your needy cunt, his long fingers graze over your pussy, collecting the precum on his fingertips, before he pinches your clit. 

“Toru,” you squirm, as he grins down at you, all too pleased. 

“Imagine if the elders could see you like this — spread out for me like a good little wife,” he’s leaning down to kiss your fluttering folds, leaning back for you to see the shiny pre that clings to his lips that his pink tongue darts out to clean off, “sweetest thing I’ve tasted,” 

“Please, Toru, fuck—“ and finally his finger is circling your hole, before sinking in knuckle deep — fuck, you were fucking tight — he could melt from your warmth, pulling him in like a siren to a drunken sailor, “oh my god,” 

“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ princess,” and he earns a glare from you that fades into an open mouthed moan as he begins to pump his finger in and out, “so good for me,” and he’s adding another finger, the wet squelch of your cunt growing louder, as he reaches a hand down to graze against his erection if only for a little relief. 

He wishes he could memorize the way you looked right now — perfect little lips parted for him, his name and soft pants the only sounds you could manage to make, your back arching into his touch, and the way you moaned when his lips found their way around your clit. 

His tongue circles your clit at first before his lips suck at the hard pearl, fingers parting your dripping folds, finally finding that spot that had your walls giving that telltale spasm, “Toru, I’m close—g’nna cum—“ you whimper, his fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt as he sucks hard at your clit, and you cum, hard, around his fingers, drenching his face and finger alike, as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

You’re beautiful — lips parted and chest heaving, as you moan his name again, “good girl,” he’s murmuring, as your eyes flutter open, to watch him lick his lips and fingers clean, “might get addicted to how you taste, sweetheart,” 

And you’re boneless, but still you’re still reaching for him, pulling him into a languid kiss, his cock twitching as he shifts himself over you, hands pressed into the mattress, his clothed cock rubbing against your drenched folds. 

“Wanna make you feel good,” you mumble against his lips, and he’s pulling back an inch — but unknowingly, he’s given you a mile, as you flip him onto his back. 

You’re a vision — your perked up nipples visible through your bra, halfway slipping off your shoulders as it is, hair a lovely mess, and pretty lips kiss ruined. 

“My turn,” and your lips burn a trail down his jaw, along the curve of his neck and the cut of his collarbone. You take your time, if only to pay him back in full for all the teasing he did, “didn’t know you taste so sweet, Toru,” your tongue drags up his chest, “must be all the sugar you eat,” 

And your lips smile against his abs at the sharp gasp he fails to stifle, “I’ll have you know I’m very sweet—“ and your fingers graze over his clothed erection — his hips buck up into your touch, “I’m known for it,” he hisses, as a giggle escapes your lips. 

“Uh-huh, I’m sure almost everyone would care to disagree,” the tip of his cock strains against the fabric, the dark wet patch growing larger the more your thumb beared down on it, “but I wouldn’t be one of them,” and you’re dragging the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock, your eyes nearly hypnotized by the slight of it, thick beads of precum dripping from the slit, before your gaze finds his again, softening, “because I know how much you do for others — and how much you’ve lost because of it,” you kiss his inner thigh softly, nose brushing against the skin. 

“As long I don’t lose you,” he says softly, “I think I’ll be okay,” 

And your fingers find their way around the base of his cock, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips, before you lean down and flick your tongue against his leaking tip, “I’m not going anywhere, Toru.” 

Your tongue drags a thick stripe up his cock, before beginning to trace along one of his veins, your fingers slipping up to use his pre to rub up and down his length. Your thumb teases his slit, and a hiss leaves his lips, a smirk against his dick. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” his cheeks burn, dusted with pink surely — as he watches you lick the precum that dripped down your fingers onto your wrist, “knew that mouth would be s’fucking good—“ 

“Turns out you don’t shut up even in bed,” and that earns you a cheeky grin that parts into an ‘o’ as his dick sinks into your mouth. He swears he was closer to death than he was when Toji nearly killed him — not that he’d like to remember that man in this moment — but you’d surely be the death of him, and you would be — if he had to spend another second without you in his life. 

Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes half shut, his white knuckled fingers gripping the sheets — you’re gorgeous as you swallow him whole — sucking and licking, nose brushing against his pubes as your eyes water, as you bob along his length from tip to base and back again. 

“S’good for me, so pretty, fuck—” he groans, when his tip brushes against your throat, his fingers finding your scalp to try and ease you off,  I’m s’close princess, g’nna cum—” But your hands only slide to his ass to hold yourself against him, as his dick twitches in your mouth, and your fingers drift to his sack while your tongue flicks along his slit and he’s done. He’s cumming down your throat, hot release painting your mouth.

He’s watching you with half lidded eyes pull away from him— a string of cum and spit strung between your lips and his dick, before beginning to drip from the corner of your mouth. And fuck, it’s enough to make him hard all over again. You lean over him, wiping the release from your lips, as you kiss up his body. 

“Now who’s good at everything?” and he huffs out a chuckle. 

“I stand corrected — actually, don’t think I’ll be standing for a while after that but—” and he’s finding your lips in a kiss, tasting himself you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, as your fingers find his erection again, stroking it, before he’s flipped you onto your back. He runs a hand through his snowy locks, a smile on his lips, “don’t think you’ll be doing much standing after this either,” 

“So full of yourself,” you roll your eyes. 

“That’s what you’re going to be full of in a second—” 

“Oh my god—” and your laugh dies on your lips as he starts to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, “Toru,” you whine, as he watches your needy cunt flutter around nothing as he drags his length up and down your dripping hole, watching your releases mix, “please—” 

“So polite,” he hums, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, “now how can I refuse that?” and he begins to sink his length into your cunt, warm walls nearly pulling his cock in deeper, as he groans your name, “s’perfect, s’good for me, princess, made for me,” and inch by inch, until he’s finally bottoming out. 

“Toru, ngh, s’big—” you gasp, lips parted in a silent moan, as you pull him even closer, face buried in the crook of his neck, but his fingers tugging your hair to show your face. 

“Let me see you,” he murmurs, as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss as he continues to thrust into you — his hips meeting yours, the wet squelch and skin slapping echoing in his ears. A gasp parting your lips as you pull apart, your head thrown back in a moan as your walls flutter around him as his tip breaches that one spot inside you. 

“Haa, I’m close, Toru,” you groan, and he’s nodding, his fingers reaching between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” and you do — cumming hard, as he notches himself deep inside you, before spilling inside you, his hot release deep in your pussy. He’s moaning your name, as your bodies slow and his fingers cup your cheek gently, and his lips find yours. 

He slowly rolls off of you, your warmth leaving him for a moment, before he’s pulling you close again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Is this a dream?” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut, and a small chuckle leaves his lips, legs entangled. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, “If it is, I hope I never wake up, Princess.” 

Your body aches — that’s your first thought as you stir into consciousness. Fuck, why does you feel so sore? Your eyes try to flutter open, but the sunlight blinds you — a soft groan leaves your lips. You shift, as you stretch, your back aching and muscles tight, but then someone moves behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

Your eyes shoot open, as your head slowly turns to find looking at Satoru. A gasp is caught in your lips. 

Fuck, it was real.  

You slowly turn to face him, his soft breaths leaving his pink lips — god he’s so gorgeous. His pretty white eyelashes resting against his skin, lips parted ever so slightly, and his snowy hair askew and mussed. Your fingers ghost over his cheek lightly — how many people have seen him asleep like this? How many had seen him with his guard down? You knew he didn’t sleep nearly enough, you were surprised he was still asleep — but, your cheeks burned, you both did spend half the night awake. 

But there were more pressing things to think about — what did this mean? You chew on your bottom lip, he had said he wanted you — but what did he want? Just last night? Or something more. 

“I can’t sleep with your thoughts grinding so much,” he mumbles, heat rushing to your cheeks, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, “why are you awake so early?” His nose brushes against your neck, his lips pressing softly against your pulse. 

“I just woke up,” you murmur, a small shiver running up your spine, as you relax into his touch, your fingers running through his soft locks, “did all my thinking wake you?” 

“Yes, and you’ll have to compensate me,” and you snort. 

“You’re rich, like old money rich,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your skin, heat climbing up your body. 

“Money isn’t what I want,” he nuzzles you, nose brushing against the skin of your neck, “wonder what other ways you can repay me,” 

You chuckle, humming at his touch — god even the simplest of touches has your logic up in ash, “I’m sure you can figure out some other methods of payment,” 

And his lips find yours again — it’s a lazy morning kiss, soft and slow, but not bereft of any of the passion from the night before. His fingers slide down your body, as he pulls you impossibly closer. 

“My preferred method of payment wouldn’t have us leaving this room until tomorrow morning,” his lips curl in a smirk, “but I’ll collect my charge tonight — how about I make us breakfast?” 

“You can make breakfast?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“I know how to scramble an egg,” he shrugs, and you snort only for him to pout, and you smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek, before your thumb runs down his lips. 

“How about we make breakfast together?” 

“Was that really your first time making tamagoyaki?” you raise an eyebrow, as you pick up a piece of the rolled omelet between your chopsticks.

“Promise,” and you bite it — it was perfect — the texture, the taste, the seasoning. And you stare at him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Either you’re lying or you really are good at everything,” you mutter, and he grins, as he takes a bite of his food — a sweeter tamagoyaki he had made for himself, far too smug for his own good. 

“I think I proved that last night, Princess,” and you nearly choke on your food. And you chew thoughtfully — you two hadn’t even breached what last night meant yet. You had simply been dancing around it, or at least you had. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up — or rather, you picked up another piece of tamagoyaki up, you didn’t know how to, “what’s going on in that head of yours?” 

And your eyes snap up, “What do you mean?” 

He tilts his head, “You’re not hard to read — you keep thinking about something,” and his lips curl, “last night?” Your hesitation gives you away — and he only smiles wider, “should I refresh your memory?” And your cheeks are burning, and he chuckles, “come on, sweetheart, let’s just talk,” 

You bite your lip — you needed to do this, you couldn’t run away from how you felt, not again  — your fingers fidgeting with your chopsticks, before you place them down on your bowl, “What did last night mean?” 

And his lips curl, but this smile he has is softer, “What do you think sweetheart? Do you think I’m really the—“ And his phone rings, and he picks up his phone, eyes flickering to the caller, and you wave him off, “you can take the call,”

He sighs, “One second,” he gets up to speak, and he hangs up a few minutes later, “text me a location,” 

“Who was that?” And he’s shaking his head, a sigh on his lips, his hand on the back of his neck. 

“The ever breathing and ever irritating geezers want me to meet them to speak about something involving the clan,” he meets your gaze, a flicker of an emotion in his eyes — a drop of water that disappears into the sea as quickly as it formed, “and it’s a good opportunity for me to discuss something I have been wanting to speak with them about,” 

“Something?” and his lips quirk in a small smile. 

“I’ll be back soon enough to explain, sweetheart,” he walks over to you, “will you wait here for me? Think I’ll be able to come back faster if I know you’re here waiting for me,” 

And you can’t help the small flutter your treacherous heart gives, “The great Satoru Gojo will rush for me?” 

“Oh, he would rush day and night if it meant he could come home to you,” and his fingers find your cheek, drawn like a magnet — why was it you could never look away from him? Even in a crowd, your eyes always found his gaze. 

And you’d go to him — like a moth to a flame, “I think I’d prefer just Satoru,” you lean into his touch, your hand over his, “I do owe him after all,” 

“You do,” he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before he’s pulling away, a smile on his lips, “consider that a deposit.” 

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

Alone in Satoru’s place — you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He had left right after breakfast, and he told you where the TV was, books, and told you could order anything or use anything you needed. But, this place was so him — each place you went, there was just another reminder of him that seemed trail after you, but at the same time, without him, it was like a shell of a place — no soul present. 

And you supposed the soul wasn’t present. 

You ended up back in the bedroom, crawling back under the covers. Fuck, they even smelled of him — you squeezed your eyes shut.

You really didn’t know what you were doing — did you? 

You laid on your back. What were you supposed to make of what happened last night and this morning for that matter? Was this real now? A real relationship with Satoru — you turned over on your stomach, pulling the covers over your head — you could barely imagine it. 

And your phone goes off, as you reach for it blindly on the nightstand. But it wasn’t the white haired sorcerer you hoped it was — your eyebrows knit together — at least you didn’t think it was. A text from a number you don’t recognize — and a picture to top it off from the preview. 

You nearly deleted it — only to spot a familiar mop of white in the picture. 

Your blood runs cold at the sight. Satoru? He was at a restaurant with — a woman? You didn’t recognize her, but his hand held hers, picture taken mid laugh. Your cheeks burn — no, no — there had to be an explanation. 

A text now — Want to see what your boyfriend does in his spare time? Is he done using you now? 

There’s only one person who’d text like that. 

Naoya, how fuck did you even get this picture? You stare at the photo — have you fallen so far in your clan that you have the time to stalk Satoru now? 

He replied, it’s not my fault that they are dining in a Zenin owned business. 

Another picture — Satoru and her were hugging, his arm around her waist, far too close to be friendly. 

You don’t think — you call him. It rings and rings, but no answer — the cut to voicemail makes your heart sink. 

Another text — even if you don’t believe me, do you think this will be the last of your problems? When you’re Satoru Gojo, anyone close to you will have a target on their back — if only to use your blood to paint one on his head. 

You knew you couldn’t trust this. You knew there was an explanation. You knew Satoru wouldn’t do this to you. 

But even still, you wished you could tell your heart that. 

“What is this?” Satoru was led to a table at the restaurant the old geezers had chosen — but there were no wrinkly old cranks in sight. Instead, there was a woman. 

“Are you Satoru Gojo?” And he raises an eyebrow, hands sliding into his pockets. 

“The one and only, now I don’t suppose the old fools of the Gojo clan turned into a woman — so who are you?” She swirls the glass in her hand, before downing the liquid in one go. 

“Figures they had to lie to get you here — seems like we’ve been set up,” she gestures to the chair in front of her, “I’m Airi,” and he takes a reluctant seat, “I was told this was a meeting for us to meet for a potential engagement,” and he scoffs, he should have figured it was something like this, “but judging by the look on your face, you didn’t know that,” 

“I was expecting to meet 

I suppose we’re on the same page,” 

He tilts his head, “Really?” 

“Gojo, you may be a catch, but to me, you’re nothing more than a potential knife to my neck,” she places her glass down, leaning back in her chair, “and plus, I have someone I’m interested in,” and her eyes slide down, “and judging by the bite mark on your neck, you do too,” 

He pays it no mind, a laugh leaving his lips at the thought of you waiting for him at his apartment, “I do,” and he sighs, pushing his chair out, before getting to his feet. “and I have to get back to her,” 

She follows suit pushing out her own chair, rising, a waiter walking by, and she trips. It’s a reflex, he catches her by the wrist and by the waist, steadying her. 

“Sorry,” she pulls away immediately, looking back for the waiter, before biting her tongue, “fucking waiter tripped me,” the two of them glance around, but see no one, “I’ll have to talk to my grandfather’s advisors about this. No one trips the granddaughter of Naobito Zenin,” she mutters, and Satoru’s eyes snap to her. 

“You’re a Zenin?” And it clicks, the wedding, “who arranged this meeting?” 

She tilts her head, “My father, but he heard about this from my cousin, Naoya—“ 

He checks his phone — and he sees a missed call from you. 

Fuck. It was a set-up — in both ways. 

“I have to go,” and he can only hope you wouldn’t do the same to him when he came back. 

Satoru calls you, but you don’t pick up. You can’t bring yourself to stare back at the photo he had set as his contact photo — the picture Yuta had taken of him clutching at his phone with your picture on his screen. 

You needed to talk to him in person. 

And it’s not long before he’s back home — practically teleporting at your feet. 

You swear, stumbling and he grabs you, tugging you close, “Got you,” he smiles, tugging off his blindfold for you to see his eyes — the startling blue that you still couldn’t navigate without drowning in its depths, “does that mean I can keep you?” and you want to pull away, you want to run, but you can’t help but melt into his touch, your fingers gently clutching at the front of his shirt. 

“That depends on whether I’m the only person you’ve said that to,” and you look up at him, his brow furrowed, “and held like this,” 

“The meeting today, it was supposed to be with the elders — I was going to discuss our relationship again but—“ you show him the pictures on your phone, and his brow knit together, “how did you—“ and he doesn’t finish his sentence before he realizes, “it was a set-up,” 

“I know,” and relief washes over features for a moment, but your eyes can’t meet his, your lips a thin line. 

And he glances at the photo again, seeing the one where he’s holding Airi, “She tripped, sweetheart, trust me—“ his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “I don’t want to hold anyone but you,” 

“I know Naoya and the Gojo clan probably set this up,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, “but—” you pull away from him, every step away from him a fissure in the foundation of this bridge built, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” 

And he’s blinking, “Why?” 

“I’m not good enough,” you’re shaking your head, stepping back as he steps forward, “I hurt you by leaving, and I was this close to doing it again—” 

“But you didn’t—” 

“And your clan doesn’t want us together, and I don’t know, I feel even if we’re together,” the words that leave your lips break your heart and his, we’ll only hurt each other in the end,” 

“Why do you always push me away when we get close?” 

“No I don’t—” 

“You don’t think the sorcerer that’s an expert at pushing others away — wouldn’t know if he’s getting pushed away?” 

“This isn’t working out,” you cut him off, as the slice cuts through thin air — but it’s not your head that goes rolling — it’s his heart, “we should stop — I think your clan has been convinced,”

He’s silent for a moment, before he replies, “well, I haven’t been convinced,” 

You scoff, his hands by his side, as his quiet footsteps approach you, “convinced of what?” 

“Convinced that,” he stops in front of you, “you don’t feel the same way I do,” Your breath catches, as his fingers find your cheek, “all these years, sweetheart, and you didn’t know?” 

“But,” you can’t process this, it doesn’t make sense, “but Suguru—“ 

“Was important to me yes,” he murmurs, “but it’s been years, and it doesn’t mean I can’t have deep feelings for someone else — especially when I’ve had them for over a decade,” 

“You—“ was this real? As he stood before you, in his living room low lights, sunlight streaming in from his windows, “what?” 

He laughs, “Didn’t know it was possible to render you speechless, sweetheart — guess there’s a first time for everything,” he steps over your missteps with the same ease he does everything, “I really do have to spell everything out for you, don’t I?” The back of his fingers ghost over your cheek, “I’m in love with you—“ 

“No,” you’re shaking your head, and his face falls, “Satoru, we can’t—“ 

“But—“ 

“Your clan doesn’t approve of me, they won’t stop trying to break us up, and I could put you in danger,” you murmur, “they could use me against you — just like Suguru did,” you couldn’t bear the thought of that, “and is that worth it? Worth it for something that may not be real?” You ask the question you’re afraid of asking him — of asking yourself — “was it ever real?” 

And he’s still trying to reach for you, despite it all — he knows it’s dangerous to be around him, he knows anyone close to him is in danger — and that’s why he was okay when you left. If only you’d be safe — but he knew that if he always played it safe, he would never be happy, “It’s real to me,” 

“It’s not to me,” you turn towards the door, “I’m sorry.” 

And this time he doesn’t stop you. 

It’s for the best. 

That’s what you tell yourself. The same thing you say when you’re leaving his place. The same thing you say the next morning you wake up with only a pain in your chest and a dull ache in your head. The same thing when you accept a long mission overseas. 

It was for the best. 

Then why — then why did you think of him? Each and every day, every minute, every second. But it was for the best. He was safer without you, it was easier without you, it was better — better and yet each day seemed to drag when you couldn’t talk to him. And your notes were filled with unsent texts to him — and your mind was filled with nothing but memories. 

And you couldn’t touch memories nor could you talk to them. 

Several months later, you’re sitting in a plane, watching the animation of the plane fly back towards Tokyo. You had been checking in with Yaga several times a month, but you hadn’t heard a thing from Satoru. 

Or rather, Gojo. Not that you expected to — not after what you did. 

And soon enough, you’re arriving home — heading inside your home to find a bunch of your mail had fallen out of your mailbox, knocked out of the rickety box from the storm the night before. You pick up the drenched mail between two fingers that was stuck to the sides of your walls, as you fumble with your keys to open the door. Your suitcase and mail fall to the fall as you close the door behind you, sighing. 

Fuck. You were home. 

You dragged your suitcase inside, picking up the mail off the floor. You collapsed on your couch, tossing the wet envelopes onto the table — when a name catches your eye. 

Gojo? 

You pick up an envelope — the frilly envelope doing nothing to protect the contents inside — you barely can make out any of the text, except the faint inked kanji of his name. 

You gingerly open the envelope, peeling out the insides — and your heart drops. 

Is this an invitation? The faint text was blurred and smudged from the rain — the contents all but faded and you could only make out three things — ““marriage,” today’s date, and bits and pieces of what you thought was an address. 

Satoru was…getting married? 

It felt like logic had fled your mind and panic took its place — as you looked up the parts of the address that you were able to decipher. And you found it — it was a popular venue not far from here. 

You didn’t think — you grabbed your keys and drove. 

You couldn’t let him get married, no, no — you had made a mistake when you left. You thought he was better off, you thought it was for the best — but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be when your chest hurt like this — felt as if your heart was splitting in two with a sword stuck between your ribs. It couldn’t be because you pushed him away because you were scared — scared of getting hurt again, scared of hurting him, scared of being with the only person you ever had loved. 

Basically, you pulled up to the venue, you were an idiot. 

You hadn’t changed, you hadn’t showered off your who knows how long of a flight, and now you were on the steps of a wedding venue that Satoru was getting married at. You froze before the doors. 

You couldn’t do this. He didn’t deserve to have his day ruined by you — not when you had ruined enough. If he had found someone else to spend his life with — whether it was arranged or not, he deserved to be happy. 

Even if it wasn’t with you. 

So you step down — walking off a distance to watch when the couple emerged — which judging by how dark it was and how staff were already almost done setting up — would be any minute now. 

So you wait. 

And finally when the doors swing open, you steel yourself — knowing it would do nothing, nothing to shield you from the pain of seeing—and your eyes find the groom. 

That wasn’t Satoru. 

He certainly had the white hair, but he did not have his blue eyes — he had a lovely bride regardless, who looked at him the way you had always looked at Satoru. Was that the look you had hidden away for so many years? And why were you still hiding? 

And your eyes find Satoru almost instantly — as fast as his eyes find you seemingly, as your name escapes his lips — as he parts through the crowd to your side. He’s wearing the other suit he had tried on — the white suit that had been your second favorite — his white locks parted and combed to the side, but still impossibly unkempt as they always were. 

“You got my invitation?” you blink, tilting your head. 

“But you—what?” and his brow furrows. 

“Don’t tell me you lost your ability to read and speak while overseas, princess,” and a small chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head, wringing your hands. 

“Satoru, the invitation was wet because of the rain, I thought—” your voice wavers, glancing away as your cheeks burn, “I thought you were getting married.” 

He raises an eyebrow, lips curling, “And you were about to burst in and object?” 

You roll your eyes, but even so you can’t meet his gaze,  “Satoru—” 

His smile only grows wider, “What were you going to say? A passionate speech about how you’re still—” And you’re tugging him close by the collar, and his breath catches, your name leaving his lips. 

“I’m in love with you, Satoru,” your voice is steady as you speak, your hand sliding to his cheek, “I always have been — I was just afraid to admit it, I didn’t want to hurt you — whether it was by my own hand or not,” and his brow furrows, but you continue, “but I’m not scared anymore — because it hurts more to be nothing than something with you—” 

And his lips find yours. It’s everything you want — because it's him, he’s everything you’d ever wanted, and everything you’d ever want. You want the way his arm slides around your waist to pull you closer, you want the way his hand cups your cheek, you want the way his lips smile against yours, and you’d want his past, present, and future. And you’d do anything to keep it. 

“Promise you’ll never leave like that again?” he murmurs, his arm tightening around your waist as he says the words, his forehead pressed against yours, “I already have abandonment issues,” and you chuckle, your fingers finding his cheek. 

“I promise,” you murmur, “I’m sorry I left — both times I left, and there won’t ever be a third,” 

And he smiles, “You proposing to me, sweetheart? I’m not one to rush into things, gotta take me out on a proper date first,” 

“How about tonight?” you find his lips again, the taste of sugar on his lips — undoubtedly from indulging in a slice or several of wedding cake. 

“So soon?” he hums,and his gaze softens, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “someone’s eager,” and your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his, as you would a million times more,

“Well, you don’t know until you try.” 

✧ a/n: ahhh another celebration fic done!! this one was lowkey a struggle towards the end so i hope this turned out okay. it's beyond me understanding if it did or not lmao. i hope you guys enjoy ahhh -- gotta probably put up a poll to decide the next celebration fic this weekend :) (it's only because i'm horribly indecisive).

✧ taglist: @yunjinabla, @weluvsza, @yamaguccitadashi, @gojobbg, @soulofoz, @hfdkhjghjkghfj, @forest-fruits-jam, @cerene-dipity, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @reaperxdeath, @octopishisahybridanimal, @hanlay, @whereflowerswenttodie, @tsukimefuku, @numbing3scapism, @arcswonderland, @kirashuu, @fushitoru, @spider-fan72, @jayathelostdragon, @sunflowmaryam, @satorusmochis, @catsgomurp, @simply-a-s1mp, @kentocalls, @weluvsza, @lucy-xv0202, @mazzd4, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz

[toyogamii]

pt.1

shoko has never seen satoru gojo; the strongest, look quite this weak. he’s sprawled across his office desk and the smell of vodka hits her so hard her eyes water.

“what are you doing?” she drawls, eyes flitting around the room as she tries to make sense of the man’s pathetic state.

“y/n?” he slurs and struggles to raise his head up.

shoko sighs.

“not quite.”

she drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with her heel as she walks over to him. he finally meets her eyes and she frowns. he looks… dead. the look reminds her of someone long ago… and for a brief moment she’s terrified of the sorcerer in front of her.

“what’s going on gojo?”

he shakes his head and mumbles incoherently, laying back down on his desk. shoko has to force herself to not roll her eyes and she clenches her teeth together.

“you think this is gonna help you?”

she picks up the nearly empty bottle of alcohol and smashes it on the ground.

“you’re fucking pathetic,” she spits, “get yourself up. you’re not… you’re not going to turn out like him no matter what. you’re gonna man up and fix whatever has caused this.”

satoru stares in drunken shock at the smashed bottle. he sighs.

“i can’t… i can’t fix it,” he mutters, “messed it up to bad.”

shoko sighs again.

“did something happen with, y/n?”

he sniffles at the sound of their name coming from shoko’s mouth and gulps.

”i had to protect them,” he whispers, staring emptily at the ground, “i’m dangerous. being around me is dangerous.”

shoko doesn’t know what to say, she watches him as he watches her.

“… you’ve never been the smartest, have you, satoru?”

he scoffs and swings his arm up wildly.

“you’re so mean to me,” he pouts, the momentum from his arm causes him to slide and stumble out of the chair and onto the floor. he groans and flops defeatedly around.

“you’re a mess. stay right here and try not to hurt yourself please.”

— —

satoru doesn’t know when he blacks out or how long he’s been asleep before he hears muffled voices outside the door. his head is pounding but he feels sober enough… unfortunately.

“i don’t know shoko… after what he did…”

“at the very least talk to him, it may give closure for both of you if nothing else.”

there’s silence. then the wooden door creaks open and he winces, flinching away from the light. your blurry form comes into vision. god you’re just as beautiful as the day he left.

“satoru,” you say.

your voice is like honey to his ear, so sweet and soothing. he lifts his head, his blue eyes shining. it’s been weeks but it’s felt like years. your hand comes done to touch his cheek and he shivers, his eyes almost rolling back at the feeling of your skin on his again.

“what’s going on?”

“i miss you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your palm. you instinctively stroke your thumb along his cheek bone.

“you cheated on me. you… you left me.”

he shakes his head.

“no.”

you raise an eyebrow and cup his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“what do you mean, no?”

“i could never cheat on you.”

the way he says never almost makes you swallow hard.

“you told me you did.”

”i… lied,” he admits, shame in his voice. you freeze.

“you what?”

he groans and pulls away from you, finally sitting up fully and facing you properly. he wants you in his arms so badly.

“i lied,” he sighs, “i thought it would be better… I thought i was protecting us both.”

he feels the sting of your slap before he can fully process what happened.

“that’s for fake cheating on me.”

he gapes at you, hand coming to his cheek.

“you hit me?!”

“you deserved it.”

“… you’re right.”

you sigh one last time before leaning in and kissing him. you still taste just like strawberries and mint, he thinks.

“and that is because i’m stupid enough to still love you after all this.”

[lovegasmic]

hiii! can you write heartthrob!gojo slowly realising that he finds reader attractive and has a crush??

ㅤHeartthrob !

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. gn!reader, highschool au, tried to make it as Japan styled as possible, fluff and love confessions ‹3

Satoru sighs.

“how many times has it been?” Suguru asks, eying a magazine while Shoko nibbles on the edge of a lollipop stick, mindlessly staring at the sky.

“seven” she says casually, dangling her foot off the cafeteria bench table.

Satoru sighs again, completely ignoring his friends.

“eight”

what do you have that makes you so irresistible? Satoru is unsure, of course he’s seen you before, you were just a year younger and meeting you in the corridors was not unusual, sharing one or two chit chats along the way, perhaps casually helping you catch a book you couldn’t reach, you know, all things a friend does.

when did these feelings start to get worse?

used to the constant attention from all his classmates, Satoru was not the one to suddenly catch feelings, charismatic and kind is what he was, yet never felt anything towards everyone’s constant praising, why did he want to hear you praising him?

“you both are the worst”

“hm” Suguru hums, sitting next to his best friend who has an elbow on the table and his cheek resting on his palm, “you’re acting like a creep”

an exaggerated gasp comes out of Satoru’s lips, a bit of a relief considering it’s not yet another sigh, “i am not a creep!” he exclaims, hand on his chest as if his best friend just wounded his ego, even though the pose mimicked one of a gossiping victorian lady.

“yes you are, you’ve been staring at them for so long”

“my eyes happen to be in that same direction”

Shoko hums in the back, not believing a word.

“if you like them so much why don’t you just talk to them?” Suguru asks, chin propped up in his hand with a knowing soft smile.

“i don’t—”

a muffled bunch of giggles cut his words, blue eyes immediately landing back to the group of girls that approached him, all blushing and twirling their hair, “Satoru... can you help us with the decorations for the festival?” one of them asks, with wide grins and standing right in the front, obviously the leader.

Satoru hesitates, turning to look at you again but just finding the spot where you previously sat now empty, as if you held the answer.

the ninth sigh of the day, “sure”

you’re usually not the type of person to jolt up in any slightly scary situation, but finding Gojo Satoru’s face right next to yours as soon as you close the shoes locker was not expected.

he does not mention it, what a gentleman, keeping a wide grin on his face, “hi” sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, “need some help with that?” the blue eyed points at your feet and you raise a brow, looking down at the quite small bag of books you held.

“i’m fine, thank you” and if you see a pair in the farthest back, a black haired one and a brunette giggling among themselves you don’t mention it either.

“right” a slight blush coats his cheeks and looks down, resting his arm above the surface of the lockers, “so um, did you hear about the festival?”

“oh, yeah” you say, finishing to place your shoes in the locker, “i saw you helping the student committee”

wait, did you? what did you see? he wasn’t overly friendly with those girls, were he? no of course not, he’s used to the compliments and attention, but he never reciprocates any flirting, are you aware of that? what do you think of h—

“i’m quite excited” your voice pulls Satoru out of his stupor, “the gym was looking nice”

the gym..., “right! the gym, of course, not to brag but I helped a lot” he winks.

you laugh at that, and he goes speechless, mouth drying and brain stopping at the sight of your smiling face so close, have you always been so good looking...?

“do you want to come with me?” he blurts before he can even process the words, coming up his stomach and pouring out his mouth.

“to the festival?” a hint of hesitation flashes through your eyes, and Satoru’s heart clenches, “sure, I’d like that” and suddenly he does not want to disappear anymore.

“great, see you around” thanking his extremely long legs, the white haired is quick to make an exit before his heart explodes, dragging Shoko and Suguru who were still 'hiding' in a corner.

“you do know you have to wear the uniform, don’t you?” Shoko explodes Satoru’s desperation bubble with just a few words, turning to stare at his friend casually laying on his bed while playing with the dark pair of sunglasses.

“why didn’t you say that before?!” he hisses, still holding the two shirts he was previously attempting to pick in front of the mirror, “did you know about that too?” he acuses Suguru now.

the black haired laughs and raises his hands in feign innocence, “you never asked”

this time instead of counting sighs, they count how many shirts and pants Satoru pulled out of his never ending closet, rich family issues.

and right when it looked like the blue eyed was about to open another secret closet, Shoko decided to stop this never ending torture, “i can’t believe you’re my friends” he fakes a dramatic sigh and plops on the floor, somehow relieved that he didn’t have to decide what to wear for your non date.

“are you excited for your date?”

“it’s not a date!”

he was, indeed, excited, palms sweating while looking through the crowd of people gathering at the school backside where the festival was taking place, giving a few hello’s to everyone who stopped to talk or flirt, the usual.

and then he saw you, heart racing when you give him another of those beautiful smiles of yours, the ones that make him wish to kneel and pop the question, even if he was barely 18, he did not care.

“you look beautiful” you looked the same as ever, but to Satoru you looked perfect every single day.

a soft chuckle comes out of you, “thank you, you too” and he blushes again, eyes locked on you, ignoring completely the smug faces of his best friends, again, staring in the back.

and how Satoru wished it was just the both of you walking through the multiple stands, without any distraction of the people who greeted him, can’t anyone see he’s busy with you?!

although you don’t mind, or you don’t show it, but when the sun starts to set and the crowd starts to disperse he guides you to a bench away from the people, an arm casually draped over your shoulders from hours ago when he pretended to yawn.

“i want to tell you something” he starts, eyes locked on the mochi in your hands that you unwrap and guide to his mouth, making Satoru's eyes widen but quickly chew it down without trying to make you eat it, “i, um, I want to say I like you, a lot, and maybe... do you want to have a date with me?”

a very soft smile places on your lips, looking up at him, “wasn’t this a date?”

“i- i mean, well, it could... it could be if—!”

your finger on his lips quickly shuts him down, and honestly, what kind of power do you have to be able to shut him with a simple touch? “i’d love to go out with you, but I have a question”

“yes?”

“will your friends also come with us?”

[inupibaldspot]

From you, For him

| Part 2 of At him, For him

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Normal like no curse and stuff AU where Gojo is in love with Geto’s lover but this time he has the chance to change everything. This contains time travel!

I wrote it in a way you can understand what’s happening even if your don’t read part 1 btw

·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·

Gojo Satoru feels as if he can’t breathe.

He inhales. His chest hurts and he has a horrible attempt at keeping his glazing eyes in check as he fakes a smile and claps his hands together; there was a blur silhouette of Geto and you in a distance in tears ,both wearing matching rings.

“Woah—! Congratulations you two.” Shoko smiles wildly as she brings her hands close to her mouth,cheering. She briefly turns to Gojo and looks back at the couple. “Keep it together,Gojo… you’ve done that for years so why bother showing it now.”

Gojo lets out a laugh. “How cruel…” of course Shoko knows he has had this unrequited love for years. He breathes out. “I’ll head out for a second.”

Shoko nods as she reaches out and puts a cigarette and lighter in his pocket. He mutters a ‘thanks’ as he opens the door, cold breeze immediately greeting him. He breaths in again as his hands search for warmth in his pockets, turning to the alleyway.

Once when he is secluded, he brings out the piece of cigarette Shoko handed him earlier as he places it in between his lips, his hands bringing up the lighter with one on the lighter as the other hand wraps to protect the small flame.

He did not smoke often—more like he didn’t even the last last time he did. Gojo sucks in a breath, his throat feels hot but his chest is lighter, no-he remembers smoking back in high school simply because of Shoko and Geto. His only two friends would leave him for smoke breaks and he didn’t want to be left alone so he simply picked up the habit. 

Gojo quit after he met you since he didn’t feel the need to tag along Geto and Shoko anymore.

Somewhere in between college,meeting you and now, he didn’t seem to care anymore.

“Hey kid.”

“Fuck!” Gojo jumps, his teeth biting into the cigarette as his eyes glare sharply in the direction of the sound. A man sits along the far end of the alley way, away from him.

The white haired man contains his jumped heartbeat as he walks over the man who called him over. His eyes trail the dress he wore; it was a traditional dark piece of clothing and beads around his hand. This man was cosplaying as a Priest. 

He didn’t say the word ‘cosplay’ lightly because first, to begin with, the man in front had a ‘magic ball’ in front of him as if he was waiting for people to share their future and second, he wasn’t too serious because boy—! That monk had thick hair on his head, not the shaven look you’d normally see.

Gojo met scammers; near the shopping center, outside popular restaurant and tourist attractions, by his house ringing on his doorbell and right now, infront of him.

“What‘cha gonna tell me,old man.” Gojo says as he peers in, with also taking in a puff of smoke. “That I’ll be having a wife and two kids in my 30s… If it’s not that, it means one of you is lying.” By ‘one of you‘ refers to the scammer-I mean fortune teller he let in his house because he was bored. 

“Hahaha-! That’s not it.” The man laughs as he faces Gojo directly, it was then when he finally notices a stitch mark which stretches across his forehead. “Just wondering if you’d ever regretted things… ‘things’ which you wished you could go back and change..”

Gojo laughs as he drops the half-piece of cigarette on the ground, stomping on it. No long interested. “Of course. I still wish I could go back in time and not erase my answers because my teacher made all the answers to the MCQ ‘c’ just when I didn’t study.” 

Fuck—just why did Yaga REALLY do that? Gojo thinks back at the thought.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Gojo turns when he hears the man speak. 

The man stands close—very close to him as his hands were making a V-sign (a peace sign) , fingers pointed near his eyes before the old man was stabbed into his eyes.

“Oh my god— shit! That hurt, old man.” Gojo places his hands on his eyes as he tries to soothe the pain from it. “What are you trying to do—huh…?”

He blinks once.

Twice.

He takes a deep breath. ‘It’s fine.’ He thinks to himself. ‘I’ve just lost my mind a tiny bit because y/n and Suguru are getting married.’

Gojo let out the breath and opened his eyes. Same scene. He was by a tree, near a building; he remembered this place being behind the building for the Class 1-3 who were studying the normal curriculum whereas advanced classes of class 4-5 students were in another building. 

“What the actual heck is happening?” Gojo grumbles as he looks at the calendar on his phone. He was back in high school. He was sent back in time by about 7 years. “Fuck… I guess that man wasn’t a quack….”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“That’s why I need you to help.” You wiggled your toes in your shoes as you stand, smiling. The teacher,Yaga Masamichi, was in front of you, sitting on his chair as he continued to talk- maybe complain would be a better word- about a certain boy from the advanced class. “The boy is smart but he lacks discipline! He needs someone as hardworking as you and maybe it’ll rub on to him.”

You’ve heard of Gojo Satoru. You’ve never seen him but he was very infamous in high school . First, for being the son of the Gojo Estate. Two, for being a very tall, conventionally attractive boy. Third, for being a delinquent. 

And that last part bothers you a lot, you’ve heard him get into fights, rumors of him smoking along the alleyway, ripping love letters into pieces and recently he skipped over all his tests making him fail his mid-terms. 

You gulp. Hope he doesn’t beat you up… 

Just then the door to the staff room slides open. You see enter, he was tall with white hair and lashes and the eyes in the most beautiful shade. No way this was Gojo right? He was so— beautiful.

Did he just make eye contact with you?

“Gojo come here.” Yaga calls out as he huffs. Gojo clears his throat as he walks to the teacher. When he was close enough Yaga continued. “This is y/n and I’m assigned to be your teacher. She’ll make sure you get all your works done plus make you study for the reassessment for the exam you skipped on.”

You watch Gojo who was towering beside you raise his hands and brought it up to his face, but from the angle you see the upward turn on the corner of his lips. Why was he smiling?

“Isn’t this -he points at you- from the normal department?” You huff when you were referred to as ‘this’. “You sure she is smart?”

“Don’t mess with y/n just because she isn’t from the advanced class— And also! In the last exam she was placed third overall , right below Suguru.” Yaga shouted back.

Your eyes trail back to him when the boy beside you seemed to still, You’ve heard of Geto Suguru too. Apparently a boy from the advanced class who was also popular for his good looks. But not only that— he had a delicate aura around him which makes people like him and to add on he was very much academically smart.

Gojo lets out a breath, as if it were more of an amazement in your opinion. You watch him take a small step back as he turns around and gives you a smile, god was unfair when he crafted this smile. “Then please take care of me, my tutor.” His face was close to yours.

‘My.’ You face almost burst with heat.

“Gojo stop bothering y/n.”

“Ouch—! That hurt sensei.”

Ever since then, once you hear the bell ring indicating school was over for the day, there would be Gojo poking his head into your class with a boyish grin plastered on his face, he takes your book-filled bag, slings it over his shoulder as you guys would walk to the library.

He sometimes passes by your classroom which is in the opposite building whenever he wants to go to the restroom in between classes—I mean he never did specify which restroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

And when he does, his gaze flickered towards you, taking in the way your gaze reflected the warm sun from outside.It becomes clear to Gojo then that even now, despite everything—in between ever but of confusion, anger and guilt, he doesn't actually want to lose you. To his best friend. To anyone else.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Warm.

The way the curtains fluttered from the gentle wind, letting in a cool breeze and a glow of the evening sun and you. You sitting not even an arm's length away and just like the pace of his heart which picked up, pushing every worry he could still have further and further away because there was no space for those in that moment.

There was just you. And he could feel your presence a lot closer now, her warmth not far away from him.

God, you were beautiful.

So beautiful, he would not mind spending the rest of his life memorizing each feature belonging of yours.

“Stop staring at me.” You let down the pen you were holding, looking away from your homework.

“I can’t stop.” He admitted.

You huff, the smirk on Gojo widened as he could see a faint color rush to your cheeks. “Just do your work…” you wave him off as you grumble.

“I’m already done,love.” He continues his teasing.

You pink as you let out a small shriek at the nickname; you rush close to him as you cover your hands on his mouth. “Shut up—Gojo, I don’t want to be murdered by your fangirls because of this.”

He pecks your hands by pursing his lips forward, into the palm of your hands making you shriek once more pulling away.

“Gojo!” You glare at him as you reach your hands out and comically wipe your hands on his blazer as he laughs at your reaction. He leans forward as he looks at your books. “What’s this?” He asks.

“Ah…” you say as you bring out a book closer to him. “I’m studying for my entrance exam for this university.”

“Already?” But that’s like months away.

“Yeah.” Your voice is laced with a smile, gojo almost sees shining glitters surrounding you. “It’s like… kind of my dream as a kid to go here.”

Gojo laughs at how adorable you sounded. “Why that university though?”

“My parents-“ you turn almost too quickly to face him but then you stop yourself as you clear your throat. “My parents went there and that’s how they met and fell in love.”

“Ah…” Just like you and Geto… His heart pains again as he is reminded.

You bend down as you lean your head on the table, letting out a sigh with your hands on your sides. “I hope I get in though…”

“You will.” He says confidently. He knows you will. “Nerds like you will get in.”

“Gojo, I’m not a nerd.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“I’m not princess either!”

“Sure thing, love.”

“Oh— Gojo,stop that!”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I need you to be serious, Satoru!”

He listens to you shout, even without turning to your direction he could basically sense you ‘huffing and puffing’, a habit you took till adulthood. He reaches out into the bushes, pushing the leaves away. “I am—! Sheesh, let me breathe.” Gojo laughs.

You two were currently near the patch of grass by the football ground; you had lost your key to the music club room—a room which was basically unused but you guys needed a room so you two can continue on with your study lessons. 

You bend to look over the bushes while Gojo does around the bushes checking every shrub. “Oh lucky— someone’s cigarette and lighter is hidden  here.” His smile widens as he reaches out for the gift, someone had kept here. “Satoru, don’t steal others' stash.” He puts it down upon hearing your words.

“So this where you go after classes,Satoru?”

He knew it was inevitable but he hoped he could extend it for as long as he could.

In front of him, holding a key was Geto Suguru, smiling at him with Shoko, a lollipop in her mouth peers over from beside him. “What you doing?”

Geto throws him the key at him which is catches instantly.He wanted the two of his friends meet you but he selfishly hoped it would be after like maybe, after you and Gojo date. Wow—what an optimistic! Gojo gulps, afterall what would he do if the two of you fall in love again? 

“You found it!” You jump, unaware that the two figures were his friends. You turn your head to look at him, at him. Despite Geto Suguru standing near you, you looked at Gojo. The white haired boy’s heart pulsed, the slow and steady pump now erratic and heavy with emotions. Just you looking at him with a smile, at him like he was the only one on the planet m. For the first time.

“Who is this?” Shoko says as walks to to the bush and sticks her hands in. You laugh. “That cigarette was yours?” Shoko nods.

“This… this is y/n.” Gojo grumbles, speaking low. “She is helping me with my reassessment.”

“That’s what you get for skipping assignments and test.” Shoko teases. 

Geto laughs.

Gojo eyes at your reaction and sighs in relief when you were still acting the same. Thank god, there was nothing of that ‘love at first sight’ going on. “I don’t need to take those test.Even Yaga knows I’m smart.”

Your roll your eyes. “I guess we won’t have those study sessions of now on, Gojo.”

“Wha— no! I need it.” Gojo jumps, as he comically starts shaking you, as if he got the most shocking news of the century. “No- nope! You can’t do that. I need you—!”

“Geto, let’s get going now.” She turns. Shoko looks over to Gojo, they make eye contact and the brown hair girl smiles. 

He knows that smile. 

That’s the smile Shoko gives when ever she figures out something. And equipped with a teasing look, Gojo is certain she knows that he is in love with you. “Good luck,Gojo.” With his studies or with you? Geto gives you guys a wave as he also turns around and walks way. 

From then onwards, it’s as if the friendship which you guys have in the future,college days were happening now. Hanging out, study sessions, sometimes sneaking into parties and café date; the four of you. Just like right now as you’re in Gojo’s room, a flat rented nearby your future college.

“No way.” Shoko starts. “We’re all going to be attending the same college.” Her smile widens when you cheer and jump into her arms, she quickly looks over and sees a fond smile on Gojo’s face…hilarious!

Geto laughs as he takes a sip on his coffee as the two girls snuggle closer to each other. “Did you know about this?” He peers over to Gojo who finally seemed broken from his trance—you.

Gojo nods. “Yeah… I mean I’ve seen her study for her exams.” He clears his throat. “Have you played the new ‘digimon’ game?” He changes topic, whenever Geto speaks of you or to you, it makes him feel small. This isn’t good. He relishes this yet it was suffocation. Gojo would never hate his best friend—never, but sometimes it’s insecurity and sometimes it’s guilt which swallows him whole. ‘Is this okay?’ 

Shoko breaks away from the hug and she pulls on your cheeks fondly, she thinks you’re the most adorable human as she turns to Geto. “Smoke break.” Geto smiles and nods, following behind Shoko who led the way.

Gojo turns to you, eyes carefully trying to take in your presence that is before he notices something—your eyes are ‘lingering.’ He follows your gaze, carefully in the direction.

You were looking at Geto.

All emotions are wiped from his face. Gojo knew this could happen, you can fall in love with Geto all over again. He was the one who was messing with fate and time, yet— it hurt.

You turn to Gojo, your face tilts up to meet his gaze as your lips turn into a teasing smile which quickly flatters when you see Gojo’s expression. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of his hands. “…Satoru?”

He turns to you, and smiles. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“No…just thinking.”

You gulp wondering why it felt as if suddenly there was a huge rift when they were barely centimeters apart; for someone as big as Gojo his voice was so—so small. “…About?” You were almost scared to ask.

“Are you in love with Suguru?” Gojo beats himself for this, he has gone and done it now! 

You tilt your head. “where did that come from?”

“Friends don’t give each other love-filled lingering looks.” He scoffs. “So tell me-“ no he was being pushy. Gojo felt so backed into a corner for a moment but when he locked eyes with you, he was hurting you with the way he was acting.

He stands up. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“If I did love him, what would you do?” 

Were you testing him? 

“Please—please don’t fall for anyone but me…” he mumbles.

You watch as he slumps down on the floor, on his knees, burying his face into his hands, curling up almost as if to protect himself. Gojo is no longer confident egoistic boy you know, right now he seemed so weak; as if he was tired after a long journey. “I have surrendered myself to you for all of time; past, present and future I am yours…”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. Gojo feels like he is losing himself in his thoughts and also rambles with no coherence to what his mind has to say. “I don’t know what do do with this emotion but if I try to stop them they overflow and-” 

His heart seemed to thud to a stop in his chest and then start up again erratically, hands seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than hang close by his sides.

“Satoru, I love you…” you whisper and it is only then when he realizes you were also on your knees in front of him, thumbs wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry for joking— I don’t love Geto. It’s you I love. Don’t hate me?”

How can he hate you when you were still his everything: you were his everything even when you were intertwining hands with someone else?

“It’s me?” He breathes out. “Did you say you’re in love with me?” 

You nod.

“Oh wow.” He says which makes you laugh.

“I love you…” He says, years of these words inside the depth of his heart, was dug out. “From the bottom of my soul, I’m head over heels for you, my love.”

You almost cry at his tone, so gentle.

He caresses your hair, tenderly, running his fingers through the soft, silky strands. When he eventually has his hands on your cheeks; your cheeks flushing as he gazes at you, captivated by your presence. Your eyes sparkle with wonder, your lips plush and rosy. 

You are flawless, perfect in this moment and beautiful in his embrace.

Gojo didn’t even realize when he started to get so close to you. His lips pressed against her pulse in a kiss before he nipped the skin.His limbs burned where he touched you, you were warm. So it was cold after all, he realized somewhere along the line. His hands were freezing, clinging to your lower back. 

Gojo wants to stay like this, holding you for a minute longer or forever.

A whisper in his head was telling him to let go—that it wasn’t right, but Gojo wouldn't. He was hanging onto a life line, it hurt, but if he let go now, he would drown.

Gojo was vulnerable. And you kiss him back. Kiss him till he is fine. Kiss him until all his worries fly— till he understands, you are equally so stupidly in love with him. 

Unbeknownst to you two, Shoko peeks over inside the door, a small crack reveals what’s inside “You think they’re done?”

Geto laughs. “Of course not…but give them more time and they’ll be in bed.”

Shoko laughs lightly making sure she isn’t spotted yet as she then peers over to the taller boy beside her. “What about you? You good?”

“Yeah… it was just a crush.”  Geto looked at Shoko from the corner of his eyes and his lips curl into a smile. Shoko was always so observant. 

Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡—I tagged people who voted for time travel! Hope you guys don’t mind: @uuu55r64z46 @leviswifey-act62 @royaleashlyn @bakananya @bejwls @ritsatoru@washeduphasbeen @satorus-babygirl

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? Check out other here

[sashisuse]

okay so what we’re not going to do is villainize shoko.

jjk 261 spoilers, thoughts, and a brief analysis of shoko. (and touching on some sashisu stuff. more specifically the sash part.)

i see a lot of people bashing her for not having a reaction to the body swapping plan and that satoru was like ‘i’m mostly surprised shoko didn’t object’ SO. here’s what i’ve got to say.

shoko didn’t object because she was fully under the belief that satoru was going to win. that it wasn’t going to happen. it was literally the worst worst worst WORST case scenario. she had SO MUCH faith in satoru.

let’s rewind back to the shibuya arc. what we knew about shoko at that time regarding her use of cigarettes was that she had quit five years (iirc) prior to those events. her smoking habits literally revolve around satoru’s wellbeing.

mind you this was after she and yaga learned satoru had been sealed. she heard the news and immediately began smoking. why? because shoko is a person who masks her emotions and she does it well. she’s not the type of woman to break down in tears. she’s going to hide it and instead light up a cigarette.

we saw this with her interaction with suguru. she acted very nonchalant about his defection and the massacre he committed on the village and his parents. but when we fast forward ten years and go to jjk0, it’s made abundantly clear that she still cares about him. during the meeting where yaga declares they’re going to kill suguru — i’m pretty sure his words were ‘exorcise the curse that is geto suguru’ or something along those lines — shoko leaves. she flat out walks out. and during the night parade of 100 demons, we have a moment where see the most emotion out of shoko that we have for the majority of the series. she’s angry. she’s hurt. she has these thoughts of something along the lines of like ‘you sure made a mess for us’ regarding suguru. and it’s especially prominent because it’s the first time we’ve ever seen her like this and only time. the closest we get to seeing that again is during the sukuna fight.

she literally cares so much but she’s just emotionally constipated and doesn’t know how to show it 😭 it’s an issue both she and satoru have. they deflect. they mask. they move on and yet the carry it with them somewhere deep inside them.

so we go back forward to satoru and sukuna’s fight. where we do see emotion from shoko but what’s most important to note is the panels she’s in. when they focus on her, she’s either smoking a cigarette, lighting a cigarette up, or we see her surrounded by cigarette butts.

we see her genuinely fearful at this point. she had full confidence that satoru was going to win. that’s why she said ‘do what you want’ and didn’t object. because in her mind, it wouldn’t happen.

it’s very important to remember that sashisu, whether you see it in a romantic or platonic way, was a group that cared so fucking deeply for one another. their bonds were deep. their love for their found family was deep. it’s part of the reason why suguru defected in the end. which i can get it into but not at this time. but at the end of the day, sashisu had ass communication skills and failed to properly understand one another.

and that seems to continue on with the satoshoko side of that, which was left after suguru left. and after he died.

also, it’s really important to remember that shoko is not like satoru and suguru. she’s a healer. that’s it. that’s all she does. she doesn’t get to fight or be on the front lines like they do. she’s the one who gets to wait behind and wait until the damage is done to do her job. she’s been doing this since she was (probably) 15, maybe even younger since we don’t know her backstory. she’s going to be emotionally detached. also, keep in mind this page:

specifically her first piece of dialogue. ‘it’s more like we have to do it.’

and that’s the bottom line.

whew. this was rough. shoko ieiri you will always be loved by me.

[vallification]

"womanly advice" // JJK AU PT. 2!

incl: satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, choso kamo (all separate)

content: fluff, flirting, kissing, confessions, drinking

wc: 5.5k

please like, reblog, and tell me your thoughts!!!

satoru gojo

the plan was to meet gojo at the park saturday evening, which gave you wednesday night, all of thursday, all of friday, and the majority of saturday to gather your thoughts (AKA have a silent, 64 hour anxiety attack) before talking to him. both of you figured that it was a good idea to wait until the meeting to say anything else, completely cutting communication between the two of you until saturday. in theory, it was a good idea, but in practice, it completely sucked.

from thursday morning when you last spoke to him to now, friday night, you’ve felt stuck in place. for the past eight hours, you've been sitting on your couch, wrapped up in a blanket, mindlessly entranced in the worst c-list movie marathon you’ve ever seen as you anxiously await saturday evening, just as you have been since thursday. although the exchange of apologies between you and gojo alleviated some of your anxiety regarding your friendship, it didn’t do anything to clarify what actually happened. the actual conflict.

what if he says that he was just messing with you? what if he says he was just teasing you because you’ve been so dodgy and moody? what if he starts telling you about the actual person he’s been referencing to in regards to your advice? what if you acted this way for nothing because he can’t even pick one out of the hordes of women wrapped around each of his long, calloused fingers? what if what if what if what if what if—?

three soft knocks on the front door of your apartment interrupt your mind’s endless cycle of what ifs. it’s half past midnight, and you’re not expecting anyone, but you assume that it’s shoko. on occasion, she’d show up to your apartment to stay over when she couldn’t get to sleep at her own, but surely she’s not calling it a night already, right? who knows, you think to yourself as you make your way to let her in, unassuming and oblivious to who’s actually standing just outside your door.

“hey,” gojo greets, his voice as lively as usual. hanging from one of his strong arms is a few plastic convenience store bags, which you’re sure are filled to the brim with various sweets, and there’s something so distinctly him about that fact that you almost smile. a black hoodie, gray sweats, and sneakers have replaced his usual day clothes, the latter being the only thing distinguishing his outfit from pajamas. if you weren’t so shocked by his random, unplanned visit, you’d wonder if they are his pajamas.

one of his large hands rubs at the back of his neck where his undercut meets smooth, pale skin as he awaits your reply, but you can’t manage anything more than a near silent, “hey.”

“i know we planned to meet tomorrow, but i couldn’t sleep, so…” he trails off, nervously switching his weight from foot to foot on your welcome mat. to prevent any further embarrassment from your mumbling idiocy, you clear your throat and try to form a sentence.

“that’s— no, it’s fine, satoru. is everything okay? did something happen?” idiot. obviously he would have called if something actually happened. you hope he doesn’t see the way you cringe at yourself, but he does. “do you want to come in?”

“everything’s fine,” gojo reassures, now shoving his hands in the pocket of his hoodie to pick at the rough, peeling skin near his nails. “can i? i mean, i could have picked a better time to show up. would’ve been super awkward if you had someone over,” he huffs with a humorless (okay, slightly humored) laugh.

“oh yeah, like who? my mom?” you play along, attempting to ease both gojo’s nerves and your own. moving to open the door further, you step aside and gesture for him to enter, and you realize you’re in your own ragtag set of “pajamas,” consisting of an old stained t-shirt and boxer-style shorts. embarrassing. gojo grins down at you as he steps in, and to evade his eyes you make a show of locking the door once you close it.

“mmm, definitely wouldn’t be your mom. she’s at my place,” gojo replies coolly, still wearing that stupid grin, pushing his black blindfold up to his hairline like a headband. “she’s had a looooong day.”

squinting your eyes as you inspect him, looking up and down his figure once, twice, three times, you shake your head and wince. “surely not that long,” you sing-song.

as gojo kicks off his shoes by the door, you make the most of his occupied time and head back to your spot on the living room couch, wrapping yourself back up in your blanket. being able to banter back and forth has calmed you down enough to not feel like you’re submerged in liquid nitrogen, but you’re 85% sure your socks have holes in them, so you cover up anyway.

“you’d be surprised,” gojo sing-songs back, his eyes shallowly scanning what he can see of your apartment as he slowly makes his way to join you on the couch. it’s clean, he notes, nice and neat, but still warm and lived-in. it smells good, too, courtesy of your candle addiction. from where you sit, he looks like a giant, towering over your couch before plopping down to sit, dropping the plastic bags between the two of you.

“i doubt it,” you reply, outwardly smug but inwardly screaming. nervous, your fingers find and pick at a loose thread at the corner of your blanket, trying to find something to pour their antsy energy into. time to change the subject. “anyway, you’re like, the king of sleeping. why can’t you fall asleep?”

“well,” he starts, pausing for the sound of crinkling plastic as he opens a pack of blue gummy sharks, placing one on your covered knee, and tossing two into his mouth. “i can’t stop thinking about you.”

the way gojo says it makes it sound so simple, so matter-of-fact, as if it wasn’t a confession of some sort. part of you wonders if he’s still teasing you, because you know that he knows how to make even the slyest people seem the most gullible, and everyone knows that vulnerability is not something he’s partial to. you don’t say anything back, but you gingerly pick up the gummy shark and bite off its tail.

“i’m also confused,” gojo says once he swallows his mouthful of blue gummy sharks, proceeding to throw two more into his mouth and place one on your knee. he’s carefully inspecting another gummy, tracing its elementary-level anatomy with his eyes to keep them busy and away from you as he talks. “why did it make you so upset when i said it was you?”

and there it is, laid bare and plain in the space between you. it’s your turn to speak because you know that question isn’t rhetorical, but you don’t let the pressure con you into a rushed answer. as you think, you bite at the poor inside of your bottom lip, a bad habit which will definitely leave it raw and sore tomorrow.

“because it felt like you said it as a joke,” you answer before biting the tail off of the second shark. “like you think the possibility of that is so low that it’s funny.”

more silence ensues. it’s tense, but not tense in the same way last friday night was tense. it’s not aggressive, awkward, or commanding, but rather nothing more than a side effect of the earnesty of the situation. another blue gummy shark is placed on your knee.

“why would it be a joke?”

“why would it not be? you know that you’ve got some of the most beautiful, smart, talented women in the world wrapped around your fingers,” you reply plainly, neither snarky nor sappy. when you look up from your fidgeting hands, gojo is inspecting another gummy. “and you know that i have feelings for you. it could be framed as a joke.”

“i didn’t know that you had feelings for me,” crinkling plastic noises, “these things are good as fuck.”

that makes you both laugh, cutting through the solemnity in the room. in a weird way, your own confession feels like nothing at all— not shameful, or embarrassing, or compromising—just matter-of-fact as its weight rolls off of your shoulders. you rest your head against the cushions of the back of the couch as you stare at gojo, appreciating the way his makeshift headband keeps his soft white hair away from his face.

“is that why you were upset before?” gojo asks, setting the last blue gummy shark in the pack on your knee next to the others. “you thought i was talking about someone else?”

“when you say it like that it sounds dumb.”

“were you jealous?”

“no,” deny, deny, deny. obviously you were jealous, and he knows that now, telling by the same shit eating grin from earlier. if you look close enough, the very tips of his ears dust a light pink, while your entire face flushes beet red. “i don’t get jealous.”

“i think you do.”

suguru geto

beside you on the couch, geto looks effortlessly flawless. the top half of his silky black hair is tied back as usual, but he’s got on a plain white t-shirt and black joggers, the former just tight enough to cling to his biceps and stretch over his shoulders. now that you’re sober, it’s harder to look at him than it is to look away from him, so you sit with your whole body turned to him, your legs tucked up to your chest.

“you know, i never took you as somebody so clueless,” geto starts, leaning back into the couch with one hand behind his head, his bent arm showing off how his bicep is just that much bigger than his shirt sleeves. it’s hard not to be distracted, but his comment pulls your eyes from his muscular arm to his face.

“what?” confusion crowds your features, scrunching up your nose and stitching your eyebrows together.

“i mean, really. everything has just,” his free hand swipes over his head with a quick, light whistle, “right over your head. you know that?”

“i don’t get it,” you reply, your confusion continuing to build when geto offers everything but context. the cogs in your brain are working overtime in an attempt to prove him wrong, but… well, he’s right. in regards to romance, you are clueless. all he does is laugh this time, that same low, sultry laugh that had you glued to your barstool. “okay, i think you’re just bullying me now. did you come here to be mean to me or to let me apologize for making things weird?”

“weird?” geto muses, an almost invisible smirk tugging at his lips, now looking up to the ceiling. for a few seconds, you study his sharp side profile, and the way his adam's apple bobs in his throat when he swallows, but you tear your eyes away quickly when he tilts his head to look at you again. “i think that’s where we’re miscommunicating.”

“you know what? you are really, really bad at having open and honest conversations,” you say, your tone comparable to jabbing a finger at his chest. “i’m the clueless one but you’re the one making this difficult.”

“i’m trying to let you figure it out on your own,” he laughs, readjusting himself to face you and pulling one leg up to lay flat on the couch, bent at the knee so he’s sitting half-crisscrossed. “should i just be honest? or is your mom going to call again?”

huff. your cheeks blossom pink, and you look down at your hands in embarrassment at being called out. “she might call. it depends on what you say,” you murmur.

“are you going to avoid looking at me the whole time i’m here?”

“start talking or i’m dragging you out of my apartment, suguru.”

“i knew what i was doing that night, you know. i’m not oblivious to the effect i had on you,” he says, dipping his head down in an attempt to catch your eyes. geto’s expression seems sincere but no less smug than it has been, reflective of the way he looked at you the night this situation began. “there was no other girl, either. i just wanted to know what you liked, so i figured asking for your ‘advice’,” finger quotes,”would be the best way to find out.”

from your side of things, geto’s words drop in front of you like a bag of bricks. cinderblocks, really, a loud, metaphorical “thud” reverberating through your brain the moment his words sink in. his honesty, while refreshing, overloads your brain, and as you sit there, blank-faced and speechless, geto begins to elaborate.

“i admit that i came off pretty strong, but i figured i’d have to since you’d been avoiding me that whole week,” he laughs. “i think i did a pretty good job, though.”

“i…” you trail off, flicking through your memory of an entire language for a set of words to accurately describe how you’re feeling, or what you’re thinking, but eventually you settle for anything that manages to come out. “i am clueless. was clueless. i think my mom is going to call me again.”

“is she? does she have to?” without taking his eyes off of yours, geto leans forward, subtracting from some of the space left between the two of you. this close, you can almost smell his entire shower routine— his warm, boozy body wash, his bright, clean shampoo, his warm, musky cologne, the bite of aftershave, something creamy—

your thoughts are falling out of order with his face so close to yours. geto’s eyes fall to your lips, and yours fall to his, but you turn away before he can even think about closing the gap between them. your face feels like it’s on fire, your cheeks burning impossibly red, no doubt totally visible to the man before you. he doesn’t look away, though, instead bringing his gentle fingertips to your chin to bring your attention back to him. geto’s voice drops to a whisper, so soft, his words only for your ears.

“you don’t feel the same way?”

“i-i never— that’s— i never said, um— i do feel the, uh, the same way, so—“

“can i kiss you?” jesus christ, this sentence brings you to your metaphorical knees, breaking any and all of your resolve to not melt like ice cream in his hands. you nod, just once, and geto nods back in confirmation.

when his lips meet yours, it’s nothing like what you expected. what you expected was excitement, eagerness, too much too fast; when his lips meet yours, his kiss is so soft, so sure, so slow that you’re unsure if you’ll still be on earth after it ends. the moment geto pulls away, you’re scared that you’re going to sob, but you don’t. you don’t make a sound at all.

“okay,” geto whispers, his minty breath breezing over your lips. “see you monday.”

your eyes pop open, searching his face in confusion.

“what? why? where are you going?” you watch geto stand and stretch, trying to pay little mind to the sliver of exposed skin when his shirt rides up, before he starts making his way to the door.

“we talked this out, yeah? i know what i need to know, you know what you need to know. it’s late,” geto says coolly, slipping on his shoes and snatching his keys off of the small table by your front door. you scramble off of the couch and over by the door, flustered, standing a few feet away from him. geto grins as he stares down at you, halfway out the door. “things would’ve gotten out of hand.”

nanami kento

one thing nanami did get right was that it was a shame that you didn’t get that necklace. in the mirror, you take note that your neck looks too bare in your velvety black dress, but none of the necklaces in your collection meet the standards of what would look best decorating the empty space. however, you figure it doesn’t matter too much— instead of a necklace, you decide to pin in some dangly earrings, complementing the updo your hair is so meticulously done up in.

you spritz your wrists and neck with perfume before taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, now suddenly aware of how quickly 8:30 is approaching. your phone has yet to light up with a message at 8:27, which is slightly worrying… you took nanami as being one to appreciate punctuality to the point of always being early, but maybe he got caught up in something.

switching your closet light on, you tip-toe to reach a box at the top shelf containing one of the best gifts you’d ever bought yourself: a shiny black pair of louboutins. it’s rare that you get to wear them, but you figure that if you’re going to wear them anywhere, it’s out to wherever nanami plans on taking you. each heel slips on perfectly, neither too snug nor too loose, and a younger part of your brain thinks you feel like cinderella.

once you take a few practice steps in your heels, you’re good to go, slinging your purse over your shoulder and checking your phone again. 8:29 and nothing.

and then one minute later, someone knocks on the door.

the same smile from the jewelry store spreads across nanami’s face when you open the door, pearly white teeth showing, the left side of his mouth cocked up a bit further than the right, something you hadn’t noticed then but impossible to miss now. from behind his back he produces a beautiful bouquet of red roses, the kind wrapped in paper, not plastic, secured with a pink silk bow. his eyes, uncovered by his usual glasses, look you up and down in a way that feels honoring instead of exposing.

“i didn’t know you’d come up to my door,” you murmur shyly, entranced in the warmth of nanami’s expression. “i figured you’d text me when you got here… are those for me?”

“of course they are,” he says, his smile seeping into his voice before taking a step back so you can step forward, holding his hooked elbow out for you to take. “what man would make you walk out to his car alone? i certainly wouldn’t.”

“oh— shit, i have to grab my wallet first, nanami. i left it in the kitchen,” but before you can take another step further into your apartment, you swear that he glares daggers at you, almost as if to say ‘you’d better not go any further.’

“no need. why would you need it?” nanami muses almost smugly, gesturing again for you to take his arm. you say nothing back, too busy thanking whichever gods can hear you out there for whoever raised such a gentleman. instead, you lock the door and take nanami’s arm, your hand resting at the crook of his elbow.

“so… i know you said she may not like this, but think of this as a practice date for me,” nanami watches your expression falter when he says that, and if he had less resolve, he’d fall to his knees and apologize right there. however, it’s for the plot. “i haven’t been on a good date in years. if tonight goes well, i’ll know i’m ready to make my move. what do you think?”

despite the dull ache of dejection in your chest, you smile and nod. “i think that’s a good idea, nanami. it’s very important to be prepared, especially if you like her as much as you seem to.”

the short trip to his car is over before the two of you want it to be, but it ends with nanami opening your door for you and ushering you into the passenger seat like a true gentleman. you don’t think you’ve been treated this well by anybody cumulatively, and you haven’t even been on the actual date yet. it only takes nanami a few seconds to get to the driver’s side of the car, but once you’re inside, you can’t help but peek into the backseat. behind the driver’s seat on the floorboard is a small gift bag with the jewelry store’s logo on it. jealousy swarms in your chest, but before you can feel any worse, the driver’s side door opens and it’s time to go.

“you look beautiful, by the way.”

-

you and nanami spent three of the best hours of your life at one of the finest, most beautiful restaurants in tokyo. the food was amazing, the champagne was better, but the conversation was the best part of the entire date. you don’t think you’ve ever laughed so hard, or blushed so much, or felt so heard. it’s all courtesy of nanami, but there’s no doubt that the entire bottle and a half of champagne shared between the two of you helped a little. well, you had much more than him— but nanami still had to call someone to drive the two of you home.

before you know it, the two of you are back to standing by the front door of your apartment. the humidity and the alcohol have done a number on your updo and your makeup, and the left strap of your dress is slipping off of your shoulder, but nanami swears he’s never seen something more beautiful in his life. he’s not in much better shape— his collar is half-popped, his tie is loose, and his neatly combed hair has fallen forward, lying freely on his forehead. to anyone else, it may look as if your date went too well.

it was hard to remember to grab the small gift bag from his backseat, yet somehow he managed not only that, but hiding the bag behind his back all the way from the car to the door. you’re both fighting a laugh at nanami’s last joke as you unlock your door, loudly shushing him through your giggles for plausible deniability should your neighbors complain the next day.

“i—“ hiccup, “i think i’d count this as a success,” nanami says, swaying on his feet as you finally unlock your door. “would you?”

“nanami, this was, like, not only the best date i’ve ever been on,” giggle,” but probably the most fun i’ve ever had. like, ever!” okay, too loud. the both of you fall silent for several seconds, staring at each other wide eyed as you listen for any complaints, before devolving into laughter once again.

“soooo… would you want to do it again?” nanami tries to slip that into the conversation coolly, not wanting to disrupt your giggles. please say yes. please say yes please say yes please say yes—

“… what?” you say, wondering if he’s the one who drank so much instead of yourself. “i thought you just needed one practice date?”

“mmm… i was kind of… umm, practicing for you, with you,” he says, now more than ready to abandon ship based purely on your reaction. “‘s okay if it’s a no. we had a really, really great time ‘n i’m glad.”

“wait, what?” none of this is registering in your brain at all, staring up at nanami with wide, drunk, glassy eyes. “it’s me? i’m the girl?”

“… well, yes,” nanami says, his voice starting to become much softer, much more withdrawn. “is that not okay?”

if you were sober, you swear you’d be jumping for joy. instead, you tip-toe and throw your arms around nanami’s neck, trying not to squeal in his ear but failing miserably. his eyes widen at the sudden development in physical contact, but his hands instinctively move to your waist to make sure you don’t fall down.

choso kamo

okay, maybe you’re a little heavy handed with the booze. it wouldn’t be so bad if you had just measured how much tequila you were pouring into the blender, or if you had poured the frozen margarita mixture into smaller cups instead of two huge cups with straws, one for you and one for choso, but alas. the two of you lay stretched out on your stomachs over his bed, a playstation controller in your hands and another in his, as you both poorly attempt to play mortal kombat. neither of you are doing anything remotely close to purposeful as you press the buttons, but somehow choso keeps winning.

“okay, no fuckin’ way you’re not cheating!” you accuse, overflowing with giggles as you let the controller fall to the floor. choso sits up on his knees, slurping his margarita through his straw as he celebrates his fourth win in a row.

“sorry ma’am, ‘s a skill issue,” he teases between sips, watching as your jaw drops.

“you’ve been playin’ too many games with yuji, sir!”

“maybe you should get good, ma’am!”

“think ’m too drunk t’ play any more video games anyway,” you sigh, sitting up to grab your own drink. choso nods in agreement and stands to turn off the playstation, letting the tv switch back to the blank input screen.

it had been a long time since the two of you drank together, especially so much, which was reminiscent of your college days when you would steal liquor from your parent’s house just to drink with choso in the alley behind your dorm. this time around, you can see the way the alcohol makes him flush pink, starting at the tips of his ears all the way down his neck, dipping lower to his chest where your eyes can’t see.

“maybe we can watch a movie ‘n here?” choso asks, grabbing the remote to his tv from his nightstand. “i don’ think we can safely walk over yuji ‘n his friends.”

“might trip,” you mumble, moving up to the head of the bed to rest your back against choso’s headboard. “let’s watch something funny.”

“wait, i kinda wanna play a game,” choso interrupts, plopping himself down next to you at the head of his bed. he uses one of the two hair ties on his wrist to pull his hair into one ponytail at the back of his head to get it off of his neck— drinking makes him feel hot. if you weren’t so drunk, you’d realize that he’s being kind of shifty, almost as if he’s nervous. “yuji told me i should play it ‘cause i haven’t before.”

you whine, a pout forming on your face. “you just turned off the playstation.”

“no, no! not that kind of game. truth or dare,” he says excitedly, and there’s a little voice in your head saying No. no no no no no, that it may be a fun game to play in a group setting, or with someone you’re not secretly in love with, but unfortunately you can’t say no when he looks that excited. plus, another little voice in your head says Yes. yes yes yes yes yes, you can torture yourself by finding out information about who choso wants.

“mmmm… okay, fine. you know how to play?” big sip of your drink to cushion any blows this game might throw in your direction. crisscrossing your legs, you sit up straight, holding one of choso’s pillows in your lap for comfort so your cold cup doesn’t touch your bare legs.

“yes. kinda,” he says, mirroring your position on the bed. “i wanna go first. truth or dare, ma’am?”

“hmmm… dare, sir.” choso cheers quietly when you pick dare, and it makes you laugh. he takes a few moments to think, even aha!ing once or twice before shaking his head no before he lands on a dare. when he finally shares his dare for you, you almost choke on your drink.

“okay. i dare you to tell me who you like.”

“m-me? who i like?” you stammer, completely caught off guard by the new, sudden change in direction. there wasn’t a guarantee that he wouldn’t say something like this, but you never expected it— from him, at least. choso had never been interested in your love life, and it was a fairly new thing for him to share his.

“yes. and you can’t lie or skip it because yuji said that’s cheating.”

“i don’t… i don’t like anyone,” liar. choso’s not entirely convinced either, dramatically raising a skeptical eyebrow at your response. although your face was already dusted a light pink, your cheeks now glow bright red, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“was that a lie?” choso prods, dropping his head down to try and meet your eyes. “i think you just lied to me!”

“no! not a lie!” Liar. choso’s jaw drops, hanging slack in disbelief at the audacity you have to lie, and then lie about lying.

“i think we’re too drunk to play this game,” you say, placing your cup on the floor next to his bed. there’s nothing in it that you need, especially when you nearly fall off of the bed putting it on the floor. thankfully, one of choso’s big, rough hands grabs onto your leg before you can slip. that doesn’t help your case either.

“what? no, i’m not. i don’t think you are either. we’re drunk but not too drunk,” he corrects, and he’s right, and he knows you know he’s right. “if you tell me, i’ll tell you.”

“you tell me first and i’ll tell you.”

“what?! it was your dare!”

“if you don’t tell me first i won’t tell you! i’m… too embarrassed,” you murmur, hoping, praying, begging that he’ll drop this, but if anyone’s going to back down, it’s not going to be him. choso squints at you from where he sits across from you.

“why are you embarrassed? do i know him? do i not like him?”

“what? no. i mean, i guess you know him? i’d hope you like him. stop stalling! you have to tell me first or i won’t tell you.”

the both of you fall silent in a standoff, your stares the weapon of choice for this fight, and for several

moment’s you’re sure that choso will be the one to break. he’ll get tired of the quiet and this conversation will be left for another day, or will never be picked up again, but… part of you doesn’t want him to give this up. you want to know, but not before he knows.

“i like you,” choso declares, his chin held high and his eyes still participating in your weird duel. he’s definitely blushing, but other than that, he shows no sign of embarrassment, or shame, or fear… he’s also not laughing. when you don’t say anything, choso keeps talking. “i like you a lot. in, like, more than a friend way. that’s why i wanted to play truth or dare.”

“i, um… i thought that—“

“holdonholdonhe’stellingher—“ creaaaaaaaak. THUD. “—shhh!”

both of your faces immediately turn bright red, heads snapping towards the door that was previously left cracked two or three inches, which is now swung wide open. three sets of footsteps run down the hallway as you jump up from choso’s bed to slam the door shut, locking it afterwards just to be safe. you want to slam your head through the thin wooden door, but instead, you rest your burning forehead against its smooth surface.

“… was this his idea?” you ask, your voice wobbling from such an extreme level of embarrassment that you think you might cry. from behind you, you can hear a small ‘yes.’ “did he tell you to dare me to tell you who i like?” another small ‘yes.’

instead of saying anything else, you take a deep breath and force your weak, trembling legs to carry you back to choso’s bed. you stand at the side he’s sitting on, staring into his amber colored eyes which stare back into yours, both held wide and shifting nervously before placing a hand on each side of his face.

however, it’s choso that moves first, almost violently bringing his lips to yours, and it’s like a supernova explodes behind your eyes— thousands and thousands of colors, lights, sounds, feelings you’ve never felt before flood your senses, and within a second you’re melting into him. choso moves so that you’re standing between his legs, his hands moving in tandem to rest on your waist, trapping you where you stand so that you can’t leave. not that you’d want to.

eventually, you have to pull away from his lips to breathe, but your foreheads rest against each others, the both of you left eyes closed and panting.

from the living room, yuji yells, “did you do it?”

a/n: FINALLYYYYYYYYYYYY HERE COME IN HERE COME GET YALL JUICE

[forest-hashira]

Butterflies

i have no chill so yes i'm back with a new fic a week after the last one. idk how or why i'm like this so don't ask. this is my second entry for @threadbaresweater's "summertime (and the livin' is easy)" collab event! my chosen prompt for this one was geto + botanical gardens. this got away from me literally in the first sentence AHAHA.

read on ao3 | wc: ~1.8k | cw: gender neutral reader, first date, minor miscommunication, both suguru and reader are bashful as hell and have been crushing for a while, several types of bugs are mentioned towards the end, but i think that's everything!

When Suguru had invited you to visit the local botanical gardens with him, you’d accepted without much thought, assuming that all your other friends would be there, too. You’d all spent nearly every waking moment together since the weather had gotten warm enough and the days had gotten long enough to spend more time outside, so it seemed like a foregone conclusion that this was going to be another one of those days.

You were quite mistaken.

Suguru was standing alone outside the front gates waiting for you, and while he was usually the first person to arrive whenever you all got together, Shoko, Utahime, or Kento usually weren’t far behind and consistently arrived before you did, so you were a bit surprised.

“Is everyone else on their way?” you asked as you approached, one hand above your brows to block the sun from your eyes as you looked up at him; you’d forgotten your sunglasses, again, something Satoru teased you about constantly. Even with the small amount of shade your hand afforded you, you squinted a bit up at your friend. His hair was pulled fully up into a bun, a hairstyle he didn’t wear as frequently as he did when you were all in high school, but with a heatwave rolling through the area, you weren’t exactly surprised he wanted all that hair off his skin.

After a moment you realized the sun was creating a sort of halo around him. Like an angel, you thought to yourself. He’s certainly pretty enough to be one. The thought caught you off guard, and you hoped it wasn’t obvious that you’d grown flustered by your own thoughts; you didn’t need him finding out about the crush you’d been harboring on him since you were teenagers, especially when no one else was there to save you from yourself.

His brows pinched in confusion, and he cocked his head ever so slightly to the right. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

“Satoru and Shoko and everyone,” you said, now feeling a bit confused yourself. “Are they just running late? Usually at least Kento is waiting with you by the time I show up.”

A look of understanding crossed his face then, and his face visibly reddened. “Ah,” he sighed, looking away from you and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s uh. It’s just us, actually. Sorry, I thought you knew that when you accepted the invitation.” 

“...Oh,” you uttered intelligently, feeling your own face beginning to heat as well, and not just from the sun beating down on you. It never occurred to you that Suguru would want to spend any alone time with you, away from the group; not that you didn’t get along without everyone else – you definitely did, you were just usually around the rest of your friend group – but the occasion for one on one time hadn’t arisen since you’d been partnered for assignments in school.

“We don’t have to go in,” Suguru offered gently, meeting your gaze again. “We can pretend this never happened. Or we can see if anyone else wants to join, I know Satoru’s not doing anything today.” When all you did was blink dumbly up at him, he looked away again, staring down at his feet. “I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

That brought you back to yourself, and you shook your head vehemently. “No!” you burst out, then cringed at your own raised volume and squeaky voice. “I-I mean, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. We can still go in. I looked this place up when you invited me, and I really want to see their pollinator sanctuary.”

Suguru’s shoulders dropped in relief at your words, and his small smile returned almost instantly. “I’d like that.”

As he turned and headed towards the gates, you followed barely a half step behind. You started to pull out your wallet as you drew closer to the ticket booth, but Suguru stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told you. “I bought our tickets already.”

His words had your face burning yet again, and you looked away sheepishly. “Thanks.” You followed him up to the gates, pausing long enough for the gate attendant to scan the tickets Suguru had bought – he’d printed them out, so the employee didn’t have to try and scan his phone screen, which struck as so distinctly Suguru that it made your heart flutter, though you’d never admit that to another human being.

Tickets now scanned, the pair of you were free to explore the grounds at your own pace. Ever the planner, your friend led you over to the large standing map. “Do you want to start with the pollinators?” he asked. “Or would you rather save that for the grand finale?”

Taking a few moments to consider, you looked over the map; the grounds were bigger than you thought, and you knew with the sun beating down on you, it wouldn’t be long before you were tired of the heat and ready to go somewhere with cold drinks and air conditioning. “Let’s do that first,” you said after a bit. “I don’t wanna run the risk of missing them because they’re hiding from the heat.”

Suguru nodded easily in agreement with your words. “I think that sounds like a good idea,” he confirmed. When he reached up and started tracing a path on the map from the “YOU ARE HERE” sticker to the pollinator sanctuary, you couldn’t help but watch, his hand making the sections of the map look smaller than they actually were. 

“It looks like we need to go this way,” he said quietly, and though you couldn’t quite tell if he was speaking to you or just thinking aloud, his words were enough to bring you back to yourself. “The pollinators are near the back, but this section with the trees should be pretty shaded for the walk back. What do you think?”

He turned to face you then, head tilted ever so slightly as he waited to hear your answer, oblivious to the way you’d been ogling his hand. You blinked dumbly for a moment, processing his words as you did your best not to make a fool of yourself.

“That sounds good, yeah,” you agreed sheepishly. “This way, right?”

When he nodded, you turned and made your way down the path, Suguru at your side. He was right, the path he’d chosen was pretty well shaded from the sun, offering you a bit of relief as you walked. The pace you maintained was steady; you weren’t rushing by any means, but you were eager to see the pollinator sanctuary, so you were walking a little faster than you normally might have.

Birds chirped overhead, singing to each other as they hopped from branch to branch, and the sound made you smile; summer wasn’t necessarily your favorite of the seasons, but right now the pros were definitely outweighing the cons.

“Thank you,” the raven haired man said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, and you looked up at him in slight confusion.

“For what?”

“For agreeing to come here with me,” he said simply. Then, looking a little bashful again, he added, “And for not freaking out on me when I told you it was just us after you got here.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “I was happy to accept your invitation. And I’d never freak out on you for something like that, y’know. You’re easy to be around, and if nobody else is here it means I actually get to appreciate your presence.”

“You make a good point. Satoru does tend to demand to be the center of attention when we’re all together, doesn’t he?” A soft smile painted his lips as he spoke, and his words made you giggle a bit.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “He does.” 

Conversation was easy after that, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time, but it felt so good to talk with him; to spend time with him without anyone else around, something you rarely got to do, and never felt like you could suggest yourself until now. Now, though, you were sure you’d be spending a lot more one on one time with your companion.

“Oh, what was it that Satoru was trying to explain the other day? He kept comparing it to digi…mon…” you trailed off mid sentence as you stepped out from under the trees, completely forgetting what you’d been saying as you saw the pollinator sanctuary unfolding before you. Your steps slowed, and you looked around with wide eyes, taking in the sight of all the insects flitting between the brightly colored flowers: the honey bees climbing out of blooms covered in pollen; hummingbird moths hovering as they sipped before zipping to the next flower; bumblebees droning through the air; butterflies flitting from plant to plant.

Suguru slowed to keep pace beside you, and unbeknownst to you, he was looking at you far more intently than anything else in the garden. He paused for a moment, letting you walk a bit ahead of him as he admired you. As he watched, a few butterflies flew closer, dancing around your head as they came to investigate the scent of your shampoo. You stilled, though your eyes were wide as you tried to watch what was happening above you. One by one, about half a dozen butterflies landed in your hair, almost forming a crown around your head, making you look like some sort of nature spirit.

“You’re beautiful,” Suguru blurted out, and the sudden compliment startled you a bit. You turned back to face him quickly enough that all the butterflies went fluttering off again, now that they knew you were not, in fact, a flower.

“Huh?”

“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, though a bit more bashfully this time. “I’ve always thought that, y’know? I just didn’t want to make things weird between us by telling you that.” He closed the distance between you as he spoke, and he offered you a sheepish little smile. “I hope it’s okay that I’m telling you now, though.”

“Yeah,” you murmured back, smiling just as bashfully in return. “That’s more than okay. You’re beautiful, too, actually. I’ve always thought that.”

A small laugh bubbled out of Suguru at your words, and his expression grew impossibly more fond. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about that, then,” he mused. He was quiet for a moment then, his dark eyes contemplative, before he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

The touch surprised you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You felt your face burn a bit more as he pulled away, but your smile only brightened as you looked up at him.

He smiled back just as brightly, and as he spoke again, he took your hand and laced your fingers together gently. “Do you want to keep going?” “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @kentohours @peachdues @ghost-1-y @witchbybirth

@marinnnnnnnnn @dr-runs-with-scissors @enchantedforest-network

divider by saradika-graphics

[sgojoenthusiast]

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY FIVE: MINE

✧.* suguru geto x reader

summary: After Geto leaves, he realises how much he misses you, and after a few months of secret messaging, you blocking his number and him going to lengths to contact you again, he finally asks to meet you.

c/w: breeding, possessive and toxic behaviour, fem reader, mentions of violence, post toji ruining everything, angst, geto says that reader is 'his', 'good girl', 'baby', slight marking, oral/ fingering, begging.

word count: 4.8k

masterlist.

-`♡´-

The buzz of your phone along with the slight illumination of your darkened room alerted you to a new message. You turned over in your bed. Annoyedly reaching over to grab the device, though you couldn’t sleep anyway.

Another unknown number, yet you knew exactly who it was. Cursing quietly, you placed your phone back down where it wasn’t and stared straight ahead at your ceiling in contemplation.

You had gotten a new phone, changed your number several times and completely removed yourself from any social media yet somehow, he always managed to find a way to contact you.

You tried so hard to ignore it. Every time, you would discard your phone to the side after seeing the notification or his name at the top of your phone but then, just the idea he’s messaged you would plague your thoughts until you succumbed to the overwhelming desire to message him back.

What does he want? Why is he up at this hour? Is he okay? Is it important? He knows contacting you puts you at risk, so it must be important, right?

Pointless questions conjured in your mind to the point where you thought you might lose your sanity if you didn’t pick up.

Squinting, you winced when the bright glare of your screen pierced through your eyes.

Unknown number:

hey, you up?

You wanted to punch yourself for losing sleep over him.

Slamming your phone back down where it was before, you sighed in frustration and buried your head into your pillow.

It wasn't uncommon for you to lay awake at night thinking about how things were only a couple of months ago and it was only made harder by the guilt of not being able to help your own boyfriend when he was at his lowest.

Everynight, flashes of smiles, movies, beaches, long walks, talking and laughter would replay in your mind until tears streamed down your face and you would pass out from the exhaustion.

And to make matters worse, whenever Geto would try and make contact with you, you couldn't help the swelling of your heart and the pounding of your head that screamed 'he still loves me' as you would fight every urge and every bone in your body to not message him back. In the end, your wants always conquered your needs.

Groaning frustratedly into your pillow, you heard the sound of vibrations go off by the side of your bed more than 5 times. Every part of your body that was familiar with him longed for his words in your ear and his touch on your skin again but you couldn’t. You couldn’t let yourself give into temptations. 

Before, it was so easy to look at Geto and think about all the good memories the two of you shared. The dates, the long nights, the fleeting touches and passionate kisses. Now, you couldn’t think about any of that without the prominent guilt of the people he has killed creeping up on you.

The hands that once touched you so delicately were now stained with the blood of an entire village and even his parents. 

Knowing all this, you still struggled not to look past it. You still struggled to restrain your mind from wandering to all the more secretive and romantic moments the two of you shared. 

After a futile battle with your mind, the outcome was always the same. Picking up your phone, you sighed in annoyance with yourself as you typed out a short ‘yes’ in response.

Every time this happened, you felt so weak. Shoko and Gojo were struggling just as much with the loss of their friend, yet they’d consistently put their morals before all the moments they replayed in their minds at late hours of the night. 

You paused for a second before hitting send. Was Geto even trying to communicate with either of them? You had assumed that he was trying to get a hold of all three of you, but it was such a sensitive topic none of you wanted to bring it up with each other so it was something you had all just acknowledged silently.

Not wanting to think about it any longer in case the guilt seeps further into your skin, you hit send and stared at your phone for another ten minutes waiting for his reply. 

All he did was send you an address.

You bit at your lip, then your nails, then tapped your hand against your thigh anxiously. Your heart beat erratically in your chest and you could feel every part of you shaking.

Sure, you’d messaged him a few times, yet this could be the first time you’d be seeing him since he said goodbye. But, you weren’t gonna say yes, right? Messaging him and the occasional phone call was bad enough, though it could be excused as a moment of weakness. Meeting him, however, was a completely different subject with completely different consequences.

The entire time you were getting ready, you mentally scolded yourself. Everything about the situation was so wrong, and to top it off, you had even gone so far to do your makeup in an attempt to look nice and not as though you struggled to get out of bed without him. 

The weather reflected your actions, rain pouring viciously from the sky and hitting the fabric of your coat as you pulled it tighter on your body. The streetlights illuminated the darkness of the streets and bounced off the rainy glow of the pavement, indicating even the weather’s distaste for your choices.

Looking up, you saw that in front of you the location Suguru had sent you, and in front of it, a tall figure leaned against the building. A fucking motel.

You had hoped he had more respect than yourself for the difference in your ideals. You had hoped he had more pride to stick to said ideals instead of fucking someone who thinks that they’re insane and psychotic. 

You understood that was hypocritical of you because, for starters, you had come out in a short skirt in the pouring rain for him - your legs were trembling and wet yet you thought about nothing other than what he would think when he saw you. Secondly, it should have been you with self-respect and pride, yet they meant nothing when standing in front of you was the man who had your heart and soul in his hands.

His hands were in his pocket and his head was down before he recognised the sound of approaching footsteps over the sound of raindrops hitting the floor at a brutal pace.

“You came.” His voice sounded better in person. It was different than before, he no longer sounded tired or sad and that gave you a brief feeling of contentment. His eyes scanned your figure, and you were no longer feeling bad about wearing the skirt.

You had no idea what to say or do but stare at his face, half covered by the hood shielding him from the rain. What you did see, was just as perfect as before. “You look… good.” You settled, but your voice could barely be heard over the rain.

Understanding this and not wanting you to get ill, Geto led you inside. “I already got us a room.” He said, walking upstairs.

“Why?” You asked. Your eyes were on the floor. You hadn’t been so nervous to see or speak to him since your first year, when Shoko and Gojo teased you for having a crush on him leading to your own realisation of your feelings. Back then, you had tried to avoid looking at or talking to him for about two weeks before he backed you into a corner and forced your confession. Back then, your choices were black and white and your issues were privileges to have even if it felt like the end of the world.

He looked back at you, as though the answer was obvious. “I wanted to see you.”

Turning back around, his voice was barely over a whisper.

“But why, Suguru?”

No answer, he simply kept leading you up the stairs and into the room he had paid for. You learnt long ago not to push for answers when it came to Suguru, as frustrating as it was.

He let you into the room first and shut the door as you looked around before turning to face him when you heard the lock click. Walking up to you, he began to unzip your drenched coat and hung it up for you whilst you muttered a small ‘thank you’.

“How have you been?” You cringed at his attempt at small talk, but engaged nevertheless. It was never so awkward between the two of you, but murdering an entire village does that to a relationship.

“Fine, I suppose. And you?” You sat down on the bed, smoothing out the sheets in order to look preoccupied and unbothered.

“Well enough,” He dismissed, turning away from you to face a drawer in front of the bed that you sat down on. “And your boyfriend?”

You paused, mind reeling back to try and think about who he might be on about. Your heart was racing, as though you’d been caught cheating. But, to your knowledge, you were broken-up and free to date whoever you pleased. There was also the fact that he knows about something, and that there really was a purpose for you meeting up even if it was to discuss a boyfriend you had no knowledge of having.

“I’m sorry?”

“Saw you with some guy from Kyoto the other day.” He grumbled lowly, trying not to come off as annoyed or mad but you saw directly through him. 

Yes, you had been on a few dates, trying to get over Suguru and back into dating and all that. Yet nothing stuck and you had yet to find someone you actually wanted to go on a second date with.

“Were you… following me?” You questioned. However, you were more annoyed at him for putting himself at risk by following you, than the fact that he was following you.. If the guy you were with had seen him, he wouldn’t have hesitated to report it. 

“Up until that point, I might have been.” He said casually. “You didn’t answer my question.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at him for being petty and jealous. “He’s not my boyfriend, Geto. Even if he was, you have no right to be jealous.”

His face contorted into one of disgust and frustration as he muttered out something unclear under his breath which you paid no attention to. 

The air was thick with tension. You felt hot and suffocated, wanting nothing more than for him to say something. Something to distract you from everything like he would all those times before, when you would lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and talk about nothing in particular.

He turned to face you again, his eyes moving over your entire body yet again. His burning stare felt thrilling, you had longed to feel it on you again.

Tilting his head at you, he smirked and asked, “You wear this f’me?”

All you could do was nod as your eyes met his. He hummed in acknowledgement, and it became apparent to you that he was holding himself back from you.

“I don’t wanna see you with that Kyoto guy again, you hear me? If I do, neither you nor him will enjoy what happens.”

A part of you was enjoying the sight of his jealous glare and serious eyes as he threatened you. In fact, you only ended up bringing your legs together and squeezing, hoping he wouldn’t notice. However, the part of you that still resented him for leaving you was annoyed that he was jealous as though he had any right to be.

“You don’t get to ask that of me, Geto. It was you who left, you should’ve thought about the consequences of that.”

Taking your cheek in his hand and caressing it gently, a small smile crept up on his lips as he was met with no resistance. However, as though it was never even there, it disappeared within moments as his grip tightened and his voice lowered. “You don’t get to hold that against me.”

“Suguru, you left me behind to pursue a life of murdering innocent people, I’ll hold that against you until the day I die because I hate you for it.” 

He dropped his hand and pressed his lips into a tight line before bringing the same hand back up to play with your hair. “You hate me?” He asked, though it almost didn’t sound like a question, and more of a statement of disbelief, as it was followed by a short, humourless laugh before he continued. “If you hate me, why are you here? Why’d you dress up hoping to impress me? Why did you pick up the phone in the first place?”

“I still care for you Suguru. Up until a few months ago, I thought you were it for me.” Your voice broke but you refused to cry, closing your eyes tightly and tilting your head down.

Truthfully, Geto had thought the same. He still thinks you're the one for him, it’s why he hasn’t cut contact with you.

“Can I ask you a question Suguru?” He didn’t reply, but his eyes were on yours waiting for you to ask so he could decide whether he would answer. “Have you been talking to Shoko and Gojo?”

He dropped the piece of hair that he played with as he considered how honest his answer should be. “No, just you.” He replied truthfully. “They mean a lot to me, but I love you.”

You stood up, unable to take anymore as you went to grab your coat and leave. You couldn’t comprehend his words, only confusing Geto, and yourself, further.

He loves you. He says he loves you. Why don’t you believe him?

“If you love me, why haven’t you cut contact with me? You know how much danger this puts me in! If anyone finds out, I’m fucking screwed, Suguru. You don’t love me-”

Taking your coat from your hands, he threw it across the floor and took your arms in his hands, his touch gentle yet conveying his message.

“Don’t. Don’t tell me what I feel for you, because trust me, I know. I also know that after everything I’ve done and everything I am doing it’s impossible for you to believe me but I need to be near you and I need you to understand that you are mine. No matter what, you are mine.”

Now, your back was against the door. He was towering over you and your faces were impossibly close. You felt each of his breaths hit your face and become one with your own. You felt your eyes go wide and your breathing go heavy as you struggled to find a response.

Instead, you just kissed him. He tasted the same as, if not even better than, before. Ever since the kiss you shared, you had felt as though your lips were made to meet his. 

One of his hands had moved from your arm to press against the door as he trapped you within his arms. Your own was brought up to his hair to thread your fingers through it and pull him closer. 

Pulling away, he used his other hand to move your hair back thoughtlessly. “Stay.” Was all he said, yet you didn’t need any more as you pulled him back in for another kiss, taking your shoes off with the heel of your other foot and trying desperately to help him take his own jacket off.

He picked you up and placed you gently in the centre of the bed. You lifted your arms up as you helped him take off your shirt before he littered kissed all over your chest.

“God, I missed this so much, baby.”

You couldn’t spare the effort for a passive aggressive comment or a harsh remark about him leaving you. All you could do was sigh heavily as he sucked bruises into your skin and left open mouthed kisses against your chest.

He fiddled with the hem of your skirt as a silent plea for you to spread your legs, to which you had no problem complying with. 

The way his lips trailed across your skin, pressing kisses and worshipping every crevice of your body had your heart thumping and your mind racing as you struggled to contain the whimpers that fell from your frowned lips.

You struggled to keep your eyes open yet you fought anyway as the sight of Geto between your legs was always a sight that you had adored.

His hands embraced your thighs as he held them apart from each other whilst he kissed down your legs before he reached your soaking cunt. 

His mouth was hot against your clothed pussy and he began to leave kisses onto your cunt through your panties, leaving you a desperate, aching mess.

Moaning out for him to touch you properly, he looked up at you with a devilish smirk plastered on his face before he continued to kiss you through your laced panties.

Impatiently, you bucked your hips up to meet his face to which he only tutted before dragging the lace down your thighs and tossing it to the side of the room before he began to tease your dripping pussy once more. “You’ve had no idea how much I’ve thought about this pussy - so fucking perfect.” He said, planting kisses around your core and sighing deeply between your legs.

“Sugu- please I need you to touch me.” You begged, growing tired of his infuriating teasing and just wanting to feel him against you again. 

Truthfully, you were torn between needing him now and wanting to take it at a slower pace in order to lengthen the amount of time you’d be with him. However, you were so overcome with pleasure that you decided to leave savouring every minute with him until he was actually pleasuring you.

“Whatever you want, Princess.” He joked, before his mouth attached to your pussy.

You gasped at the feeling, unable to contain the noises he withdrew from your lips. 

Geto played with your soaking pussy expertly, knowing every right flick of the tongue and his timing was almost godly - this had always been the case.

Often, he’d have you aching, heaving and moaning from just sitting you down on his tongue. 

The sound of slurping bounced off the walls and rang in your ears and if you didn’t know any better - if you didn’t feel the way he was using his tongue against you - you would have assumed he was a starved man drinking his first drink in days.

His tongue moved flawlessly before he added a singular finger inside of you and curled - then deciding to add another. His long, slender fingers reached places you hadn’t been able to in a while.

Your legs wrapped around his head, pulling him in desperately, yet he didn’t seem to mind, he simply just kept a large hand splayed out on your thigh as he squeezed and pawed at the flesh.

The combination of his tongue toying with your clit and his fingers scissoring and curling inside of you was enough to have you squirming in his hold and spewing out incoherent warnings about your oncoming release.

Geto seemed to understand however, to your soon-to-be dismay.

He pulled away, wiping away at his mouth politely as though he sat in a fancy dining hall eating a meal made by the best chefs and not in a cheap motel with his head buried in between your legs.

“Sorry, baby, want you to come on my dick first.” He said in such a casual manner it infuriated you.

You whined out his name, begging him to allow you your release because of how close you were, yet your pleas fell on deaf ears as he began to take off his own clothes, hinting at you to remove your skirt and top.

The minute you were both stripped off your clothing, you were back on each other instantly. He kissed you urgently as though you were close to slipping away as his hands travelled everywhere. They ran up your hips, up your stomach and across your chest, pawing at your breasts as his lips stayed connected to yours.

“Need you inside, Sugu-” You pleaded with wide, yearning eyes.

His dick throbbed at the sound of you sweet voice asking for him to fuck you as he complied instantly by aligning his aching dick with your hole.

The pain of his dick entering you slowly soon melted into the same pleasure you had longed to feel for months on end. The familiar feeling of his veiny, lengthy cock sliding against your walls at a torturous pace - helping you to warm up to the prominent stretch his cock provided.

There’s slick smeared along your thighs from how wet you were from all of the built up frustration and longing for his dick.

It was overwhelming, the way his hips were slowly picking up pace and force with every thrust. All that can leave your mouth are the pathetic whimpers he draws from you as he leaves you speechless. 

After a few moments of waiting for you to adjust, he loses all will to restrain himself and releases the same built up frustration that’s also been tormenting you. He’s borderline bullying his thick cock into your tight walls with little remorse, and if you didn’t know Suguru like you do, you would have assumed that every thrust was laced with selfish intent of getting himself to finish. However, the way his hand moved down your body and his thumb latched onto your clit, you knew he had nothing but your pleasure in his mind as though it was his own.

The sounds of slapping sped up within the fall walls of the rented room, along with the wet sounds of his dick dragging in and out of your pussy. However, your moans were competing to drown out the sounds. 

You were trying to keep quiet, aware somebody could be in the room next to you, but when his dick was repetitively hitting your sweet spot and his thumb would occasionally slip in between your sweating, hot bodies to rub at your clit harshly, it was impossible to keep any noises from slipping beyond your throat. 

Those thoughts were slipping away from your mind, along with all other thoughts and reasons as he fucked you dumb.

However, again, you knew Suguru well. From his harsh thrusts, he way his thumb rubbed viciously on your clit and how his spare hand had a possessive grip on your hip, you could tell he was fucking his feelings out into you. There was something bothering him, something he needed to resolve by fucking you - a point he needed to make.

His eyes, previously screwed shut with the scrunch of his concentrated face, opened lazily. He stared at you with half-lidded eyes yet you could feel the coldness that came through his stare - his gaze was bitter and angered.

Geto’s hair tickled the side of your face as he leaned in, causing your legs to stretch further upwards. When he whispered, his voice was soft yet laced with malice and vicious intent. “You think that Kyoto guy could fuck you like this? You think he could reach this deep inside of you?”

Oh. You should have known.

You shook your head profusely, unable to form an actual coherent response or a jab at him for still thinking about some guy you went on one date with. Though, if this was the reaction that was elicited every time from Geto, you had no problems with planning a second date - you’d think about that when your brain wasn’t turning into mush from his dick pummelling into you at a ruthless speed.

Perhaps that was his goal, to fuck you dumb and then ask you a question you’d have no strength or will power to contemplate.

“Good girl. Nobody can fuck you like this. You might think it’s unfair, you might think I’m being jealous and controlling, but if I catch you with that Kyoto guy again - or any guy as a matter of fact, I will fucking kill him. And don’t you dare think I won't. I’ll kill him - I’ll kill them all - and I'll make you watch. Then, I’ll fuck you right after. You hear me?”

You looked at him with wide, fearful eyes, yet your pussy only tightened around his cock and your head only nodded in understanding. 

He had a feeling he said the wrong thing, and that he might scare you off, yet there was every bit of truth to his words. You were his, not some no-named guy who wouldn’t even be able to give you a fraction of the pleasure he was giving you at the moment. Nevertheless, he had a deeper feeling within that his words would sink in more post-sex, considering you weren’t necessarily fond of his new lifestyle.

For now, he just kept thrusting his dick into your aching pussy and kissing your lips sweetly in contrast to the hard pace that he had set.

Your hands were clawing at whatever they could touch, grasping for some sort of control back as he had taken it all from you with just a few thrusts of his dick.

You could feel the low grunts and vibrations from his voice against your neck as he continued to pound into your pussy, strings of curse words falling from his lips which were your neck kissing desperately in between grunts, and words. Usually, this meant he was close as he grew less shy about the noises he made and more desperate for release.

“Shit- I’m gonna breed you, baby. Gonna knock you up and show all those other men that you’re mine. You okay with that? You gonna let me cum inside you ‘nd give you a baby ‘nd make you mine, hm?”

Slightly taken aback, you couldn’t help but nod and beg him to fill you up - wanting nothing more than all of him and unwilling to settle for anything less. “Yes - want it so bad Sugu, want you to fill me up and make me yours. Please, Suguru.”

“Fuck, you’re mine. You’re mine ‘nd everyone’s gonna know that when I knock you up. You’re gonna look so pretty filled with my cum, baby, and even better with my baby– Shit!”

His hips stuttered at the feeling of you squeezing around him, reaching your release as you moaned and cursed his name at the thought of him finishing inside of you. Keeping his promise, he followed through and came inside of you, his hand on your clit moving to squeeze your hip with a bruising strength.

He pulled out, watching his cum pour out of you. “Gonna have to go for a couple more rounds, sweetheart, if I wanna keep my promise and fill you up.” He smirked, his fingers shoving themselves inside of you in an attempt to keep you full. 

You kissed the smirk on his face, and before you could pull away to look at him, he captured your lips into a soft kiss once more and pressed his forehead against yours. Pulling away, you took your hand and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen free out of his face before resting your hand on his flushed cheek. 

“I could go a few more rounds.” You laughed. 

The sun filtered in through the curtains the very next morning. 

Turning over, you felt the familiar, yet recently unfamiliar, feeling of a muscled arm beneath your head, and you were met with the sight of a bare chest and eyes burning holes into your skin. You squint your eyes, aiming to relieve yourself from the sensation of exhaustion still buried in the back of your mind. 

For a moment, you had forgotten that this would be the last moment the two of you had, and was merely a goodbye - to you it was, at least.

Geto hadn’t been able to stop staring at you all morning, especially after his slipup last night about the whole Kyoto guy thing, he didn’t want to scare you and was worried about your unusual tolerance with what he had admitted was just a part of the post-sex haze. He really didn’t want to argue with you before you both separated ways - even though he didn’t plan for this to be the last time he sees you, unbeknownst to you.

For Geto, he’d be calling you unexpectedly a lot more often now he’s had a fresh taste of what he had left behind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: i need to stop getting carried away and writing so much.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights I Chapter 15

Satoru Gojo × Fem!Reader × Suguru Geto

ABOUT: You moved to Tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. As you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Having to work with Satoru on something on campus, he does something he shouldn’t.

Trigger Warning: sexual assault/non-con

A/N: Next week’s chapter will arrive on Friday instead of Wednesday due to irl factors. The posting schedule will resume as normal after. :)

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

15. Surrender

The training with Suguru was set to resume a couple of days later, just as he had promised for lesson number two. The letters from jujutsu tech also started arriving at Shoko’s doorstep, relieving you that you didn’t have to go back and forth to campus anymore to check if there had been any new mail. Took the system long enough to update, you thought.

You read the letter on your way to meet with Suguru for the next lesson, unsure why you were even entertaining continuing to meet with him at your own will. Maybe it was confusion, or something similar? You didn’t quite understand a single thing that was going on in your head right now and needed some familiarity even if it hurt you.

(Again and again.)

Through the letter, you discovered that you needed to be at the campus to finalise some arrangements with Satoru, who you would be sharing some students with as a finalised decision after all.

Suguru caught up to you quickly as you walked, filling out the empty space beside you with his company, snatching the letter right out of your hands all the while you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You didn’t have privacy around him anymore, it seemed, but it was strangely comforting in a way you didn’t want to understand, wanting to grab onto whatever positive fragment your life teased you with, urging you to hold onto any sort of comfort with all of your remaining will.

You glanced upwards while he read the letter before giving it back to you, something about his demeanour suddenly seeming troubled.

“You’re working alongside Satoru?” he frowned slightly, albeit subtly. Suguru was good at concealing his emotions if he had to, but his eyes always gave him away.

You nodded, folding the paper back into your pocket, “Yeah, um, seems it…”

“In that case,” he hummed, pulling you just a little closer to his side as he walked, “let’s train just a little harder today.”

Usually, you would have thought nothing of it. You already knew that you had to know how to conduct yourself in front of the students and that much was ingrained in your mind already. However, it was the hint of worry that crept through his words that left you feeling a bit hesitant, the tone throwing you off just a little.

The truth was complex and Suguru already knew how badly you were adjusting to him, so he kept the truth hidden for now. Even if it was a risk to do so. Satoru however, surely wouldn’t be risky enough to do anything on campus.

…Would he?

The possibility haunted the back of Suguru’s mind as he reluctantly let go of you, interlocking his fingers along your hand instead. He didn’t trust his friend for this one isolated matter, which was messing him up as well. Rather than leave you alone entirely like last time though, he was going to collect you from the campus instead.

“What time did it say you’d have to be in for?” he asked, trying to feign simple interest in the job instead.

“Um, sometime around two in the afternoon…?” you replied, “It said it would be until four specifically.”

He nodded, making a mental note of it in his mind. He saw that it had to be for Monday, so that’s when he’d show up and pick you up directly, not risking a single repeat of what happened the last time.

“And why do we have to train harder…?” you warily asked, still feeling somewhat sore from before.

Reeling you in a bit closer, he tried to ease your worries, “He’s just a bit too much sometimes and enjoys showing off, I’d want you to keep up, you know?”

“I suppose…” you shrugged, seeming to buy into his response to his relief, although the way he delivered his assurance only seemed to agitate you further. If he was in this deep with you, then why did he continue to withhold things from you? Especially since he didn’t like it when you did the very same.

How frustrating…!

Suguru continued to walk with you, still choosing to conceal his concerns. Something else stirred as he plotted for you to not even start the job at all, but he couldn’t quite justify it just yet. He needed a reason to pull you away from it all, to make it seem justifiable to the both of you rather than just doing so without a cause in mind.

“So yeah, let’s just focus on making today count,” he mumbled, making his way into his car with you, ensuring you were all buckled up before getting ready to go.

For now he settled on a different, less extreme plan, deciding to move you into his place instead permanently later on.

Shoko would be fine, she wouldn’t suspect a thing, surely.

(She would.)

You didn’t say anything but you did let it go, entering the studio along with him after the ride and getting started with him as he prepared himself to teach you how to actually fight now.

And he was going to ensure that this lesson counted, because if he didn’t, then it would be you who suffered more in the end and that was something that he was trying to avoid repeating ever again.

(Not knowing what his friend had in mind at all.)

~~~

Come Monday, the day to go to the campus had finally arrived. Per Suguru’s request, you let him know when you went and promised to shoot him another text when you were done, although he kept an eye on the time anyway.

The atmosphere on campus also seemed to be much more livelier than before as the stillness from summer finally started to move forward again. Students were beginning to move into the accommodation and other staff seemed to be returning to the grounds.

It was still a little unbearably hot though, especially in the late summer heat. Your body felt sore as a result from Suguru’s relentless training and the humidity surely made it all a little worse. Various insects chirping and buzzing alike could be heard in the background, especially where the water flowed.

Satoru could be found in the classroom portion of the campus. The letter told you where to go on that note and you luckily knew where to head exactly because you forced yourself to memorise the floor plan in its entirety while you still resided on the grounds.

His head craned up when he saw you enter the room, seeming happy to meet, “Hey [name], looks like we’re working together after all, huh?”

You smiled and nodded as you entered, however noticing something strangely off about his demeanour but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“Yeah, seems it,” you replied either way, brushing your hair behind your ear to keep the heat from overwhelming you.

He hummed as you spoke, handing you a timetable with an allocated student that you would both be overseeing. Your eyes scrolled over the paper, seeing a whole lot of scheduling but not a single name.

Pursing your lips together, you tilted your head off to the side in confusion, “Who’s the lucky student? It doesn’t say.”

“Oh, doesn’t it?” Satoru smiled, seeming a little playful. “You might find the details in the supply closet. Should be inside a folder somewhere with this year labelling it, yellow tabbed shelf if so.”

You stood still for a moment as he instructed indirectly what you should be doing, some alarm bells going off in your head as you drifted past him to approach the supply closet. The windows were cracked ajar and the hot air pushed inside, wafting a familiar smell past your senses—a cologne of some sort? It smelled a little like…?

(Your mind made the connection immediately, but you refused to believe it. It couldn’t have been... It couldn’t.)

Stepping inside the closet, you felt immediately trapped somehow, your suspicions turning into confirmations as you felt the small space becoming stuffier. Swinging right around, you saw Satoru standing right before you; his figure blocking the doorway, his once calm eyes that offered still waters were now a raging blue storm, catching you in the middle of it.

“Satoru…?” you asked, watching warily as the warmth from his face faded entirely.

You remembered how Suguru seemed to act after hanging out with Satoru for the evening just a while ago. His hostility didn’t quite add up to you back then, but you were starting to understand something slowly but surely.

“Hey, [name]?” Satoru asked you, his tone of voice ice cold.

“Yeah?” you replied, half torn away deep in thought.

“So, I’ve been thinking…” he trailed off, or at least that’s how it all sounded to you. Something was connecting in your head, like puzzle pieces falling into place. Your brows involuntarily knitted even if you maintained a smile while he spoke, feeling an air of danger grow thick between the two of you.

You nodded on and off and answered him on autopilot, feinging some semblance of what could have been a normal conversation although you zoned out as he spoke. His words became a droning sound the longer that the smell of his cologne sat in your senses and how the memory of Suguru joking to train extra hard now replayed in your mind.

It could have meant nothing, but the intensity on his face when he parted that suggestion didn’t leave your head. His tone just days before was almost pleading and that threw you off now that you were catching up to all of it.

Satoru continued to explained to you how he was going to do most of the talking as if to brag, because he wants to be the fun teacher of the duo. He did say that everything should have a healthy balance though, so you could be the reliable sensible teacher to keep the students in line.

“Don’t you think so?” he would say as he closed in, walking you into the wall.

“What?” you asked as you tried to relax. “Oh, yeah. You can show off.”

Satoru hummed in amusement, “I’m glad we can agree, but you really should have listened more.”

“I have been listening-“ you defended yourself in protest only to be cut off with the truth.

“—no, at least not after a while,” Satoru corrected you, “once I could tell you were distracted, I started reciting nonsense to see if you’d pick up but you ever did,” he concluded with a slight laugh.

“Oh sorry, I thought I was listening,” you tried to defend. You knew that you seemed off too, but you also didn’t quite feel safe in the dynamic he was playing you into. Unlike with Suguru who seemed to be at least somewhat into you genuinely and out of a form of twisted care (or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself to sleep better at night, that he was just misunderstood in his way of expressing his feelings, even though both you and him knew fully well that your relationship was built on something much darker than that.)

“You’re a bit of a mess lately, aren’t you?” he continued to ask, caging you in with his arms.

“Oh…?” you replied, trying to ground yourself together again, “I suppose it’s just nerves?”

He didn’t reply for a moment as he took in the sight of you. In his mind, you were a perfect disaster right now and likely didn’t notice a single thing with how he was approaching you, how he was subtly coaxing you while you were distracted with different thoughts.

Satoru indeed thought that this was the fault of nerves (rather than it being a revelation on your end) and that made it a perfect time to ease into you, to take you away from your own imploding mind and dare he say it, perhaps even share what Suguru kept hidden perfectly well for a while.

And as your very state of being crumbled in front of him, you found yourself barely being able to hold yourself together, not noticing just what exactly you got yourself into and how.

You went into the supply closet to get a folder, right? So why were you backed up against the shelves while breathing in his scent that smelled so much like the… person who…

(Your mind refused to make the connection. This wouldn’t be happening to you a second time, would it? By someone you thought you could trust. Again? There was simply no way. It was a coincidence. It had to be, but the way he trapped you and the way he didn’t seem to let you go was already telling enough.)

“You know, you’re very easy to get along with,” he spoke up after a while, completely catching you off guard with his observation.

“I am…?” you replied as you were broken away from a troubling realisation, not sure what to make of that statement. Was that a compliment? Or did he simply just mean to imply that you were very agreeable?

“Very much so,” he said flatly, not offering you a further explanation.

You tried to move past him but he wouldn’t budge, pushing you back into the closet to keep you right where you were.

“W-What are you doing?” you asked, not wanting to deal with him being this obnoxious. However, something told you that it was much worse than that.

(It was happening again. It was happening again. It was happening again.)

“You know, I don’t usually have to go this far, but,” he said as he spoke up after a moment of excruciating silence, “there’s something I don’t quite get.”

You blinked at him, doing your best to understand, “What?”

“You’re not into me at all, are you?” he asked.

“Are you really asking me that?” you frowned.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he shrugged, the playfulness still absent from his voice. “So, what is it? Is there someone else already?”

“Well…” you tried to forge a suitable reply but your words were lodged in your throat again; there absolutely was someone else.

“Is there?” Satoru repeated himself.

“Does it really matter?” you asked.

“I guess not,” he replied, forming a faint smile as something dark stirred within him, “I can’t force you to like me, that’s not on you.”

“So, can you move aside…?” you asked.

“It’s just… I feel like you owe me, at least just a little bit,” he said instead as he leaned further in, pressing his body up against yours, “at least after how I’ve helped you as your good friend, you know?”

“I thought friends do things for each other because that’s just the nice thing to do?” you asked, hoping that he really wasn’t holding what he did for you against you.

“I mean,” he replied as he mulled over your response, “you’re right, but it wasn’t something insignificant, was it? I helped you out a lot and friends are allowed to owe friends favours.”

You stared at him.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” He asked as he stepped back just a little, just enough to allow you to breathe again.

“I-maybe?” You considered despite not liking at all where he was going.

He suddenly laughed a little as he eyed you up and down despite the anger playing in his eyes not matching his grin. He knew that he was scaring you and that he wasn’t acting fair, he didn’t usually act this way either but… he also felt played to an extent and regardless of everything else, he was still human (and humans thrived off of irrationality, especially when facing things they didn’t understand).

“Of course, I’m also just messing with you,” he assured, the back of his hand brushing against your face.

“I-If that’s the case, then I’ll just b-be going-“

“—hold up, I didn’t actually say that you could leave yet, now did I?” he said as he didn’t budge yet again. “Just humour me for a sec, [name].”

You sighed but tried to stall it off, despite knowing where this was headed somehow, “Huh?”

(It was the same sort of conversation. The same sort of entitlement. You could feel it. It was the worst type of deja vu.)

“Just… tell me. Why have you been giving me absolutely nothing?” Satoru asked.

“No attention?” you quizzed back, furrowing your brows in utter confusion.

“Well, anything really,” Satoru replied, his smile fading again despite adopting a playful tone, “who’s the loser that’s got you on a leash?”

You kept quiet as you withheld your answer.

“Do I know them?” he pressed.

You looked at the ground and gently nodded your head, your suppressed body language giving it away that it must be someone close to him.

In the back of Satoru’s mind, he already knew from the moment he saw you in Suguru’s room, but he was hoping that it was actually because you didn’t want to be around anyone else. This meant that his friend had also lied to him.

“Don’t tell me,” he said as he raised his voice a little, his tone ripe with mockery and taunt, “you’re both serious, aren’t you?”

“I-I, uh, yeah-“ you nodded, recognising that it was only because he got to you first, because you didn't want it to be over for some twisted reason, because then that would have meant you got used and that possibility ate away at you constantly, keeping you up at night as Suguru held onto you like his life depended on it.

It was that sliver of uncertainty that settled in your mind, again and again.

“—well that’s just incredible, I got the short end of the stick for once, didn’t I?” he laughed a little as he realised it, acknowledging the idea that if Suguru didn’t want to share, that it was actually serious between you two. For some reason, that hurt more than it being just a casual thing.

He suddenly seemed very calm as he relaxed, “Have you two..?”

You nodded again, not daring to reply. In your defence, you didn’t exactly have a say.

“And all I got was a shitty kiss?” he laughed again, finding the comedy in this whole situation.

“S-sorry?” you replied, unsure how to proceed. Why were you apologising? You didn’t owe him anything, you knew that fully well.

“Hey, hey now, don’t worry, I’m just being dumb aren’t I?” he said, his body language relaxing even further as he settled on something, he already knew that he could get away with it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, unsure how to deal with him right now.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Satoru smiled, leaning closer, “but,” his voice lowered, “we’re going to be working closely now, aren’t we?”

“I-I could transfer-“ you stammered.

He cut you off, his words sounding sharp. “—I could make it so that nowhere else hires you, actually. You should know by now how influential families work, right?”

You didn’t reply, the words stinging a bit too much. He didn’t know the full story but he knew enough to understand that his words cut you a bit deeper with that remark and although some guilt formed in his mind for using that line, he didn’t apologise when he saw the hurt forming in your eyes.

“So,” Satoru spoke up again, continuing with what he wanted to say initially, “what if I asked you to break up with Suguru. Would you?”

“H-huh?” you asked, even if you wanted to at this point, you were pretty certain that he wouldn’t let you.

“What if I wanted you instead?” he asked you, leaning in closer as he continued, “would you break up with him for me?”

“N-no?” you answered him.

“Ah, a shame, but… I don’t like it that it’s only Suguru who gets to have all the fun,” he considered, “you can handle me as well, can’t you?”

“N-no, I’m not like th-that,” you shook your head in response.

“I know you’re not,” Satoru replied, laughing to himself as he seemed awfully relaxed for this intense situation he had you locked into, “but what if I didn’t care about that? What if… I just took what I what I wanted from you anyway?”

“Y-you wouldn’t-“

Interrupting you again, he moved dangerously close, “—who would believe you?”

Your body reacted slightly, attempting to push him away. Some things from the training sessions stuck, like how to keep people off while they presented an opening, but it was only a couple of lessons at most and you were up against someone who had likely been training from the very moment they could walk.

“Oh? So he’s taught you a few tricks, huh?” he laughed, holding you back with a hint of amusement laced his tone, “I don’t have to tell you that it won’t be enough, right?”

As you struggled to reply, Satoru continued to hold you in place with one hand while the other hand unzipped his trousers.

He pushed you down at the shoulders, forcing your knees to bend as you quickly caught on to what exactly he was about to do.

Before you could say anything in retaliation, he cut you off before you could say a single thing.

“Just remember, [name],” he said as he held you below him, “you’re mine too”

“N-no?” you replied, trying to push him away from you but the door behind him was now both closed and locked from the look of it. When did he have time to lock it? Let alone close it—and why was he looking at you like that?

(You knew why, though. You fucking knew why.)

“I’m gonna have you, [name], at least like this,” Satoru purred, his eyes boring yours, “at least for now. You’re going to be mine in one way or another.”

“W-what if someone sees or hears something…?” you asked as you tried to talk him out of it.

“They’ve all gone out to after work drinks, I made sure they all know and usually I’m a late arrival,” he smiled, “besides, students can’t access this building either over the summer.”

Satoru then pulled you towards him as he fumbled with his trousers while your mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening to you. This approach felt humiliating as he loomed over you, keeping you perfectly locked into a kneeling position and so forcefully compliant. Of course he would prefer if you were at least the slightest bit willing, just as he had fantasised but you weren’t… so he adapted.

“Open up, [name],” he purred as he attempted to coax you in without too much force. He felt himself harden quickly, the blood rush feeling almost dizzying, prompting him to think more with his other head than anything else, “It’ll be over sooner if you just cooperate~”

Continuing to protest however, you pushed away from him a second time all the while he simply repeated himself, proving it to painfully pointless to continue fighting against his demand. Satoru’s fingers held onto your shoulders painfully, as though clamping you into place, his own irrationality threatening to escalate unless you surrendered to his own frenzied craving.

Arrogance dripped from his expression as he looked down at you with straight entitlement leaking from his gaze; he felt owed this, especially after for being on good behaviour for so long. Suguru all the while got to you while being pushy—forward, disrespectful and maybe even worse and yet, you didn’t seem to protest too much when around him.

That much stung for Satoru, to see you not even pretend to not be okay. You were fine. Almost accepting of it.

(Not knowing that you were the silently imploding type, but how could he, when you were both so different? While he openly complained through his troubles while you took them in pained suppression, despite you perfectly demonstrating this at his side in late June. He wanted to believe that he pushed a breakthrough for you, to leave a troubling world behind, to forget about the past and move forward, even platonically, but something about his friend having you and not him stirred at something ugly and he hated the taste.)

The pain continued to build while you finally gave in, unlocking your jaw and reluctantly opening your mouth. He didn’t wait around as he brushed the tip of his hardened length against the edge of your lips, the regret and irrationality melting away as he savoured the sight, the ugly taste of envy boiling off into something that tasted sweeter as lust finally settled into the brew.

You struggled initially as you took him in, your mind trying to block out the taste of him and the experience overall as you willed for it to be over sooner than never, not quite daring to scroll your sights up to meet with his hungry eyes. You shuddered almost, as you felt him lean into you; your tongue enveloping him slowly but surely.

Initially, you tried to pull away again as though by instinct. You didn’t think much about such a movement, but he slapped the side of your cheek ever so gently to keep you compliant and paying attention.

“Bad girl, keep giving me attention,” he whispered, pulling you closer to him; his fingers clasping around the base of your skull.

Not protesting a second time, he held onto you as he slid you back and forth against his shaft, feeling the all too incredible sensation of something forbidden, it somehow tasting even sweeter as he got into it. You struggled to take him properly as your lacking experience came into light, feeling unsure of what to even do but this didn’t seem to deter him.

As though to signify you to not worry, he pushed you gradually deeper as he rolled his his hips in a steady motion back and forth; his tip just about managing to reach your throat but your gag reflex worked against you, so he didn’t push you too far—just enough to get the job done.

“Shame you can’t keep up,” he hissed, seething his frustration into the air, “what has he been doing with you otherwise?”

You ignored the comment although it wasn’t like you could protest anyway, feeling him continue to use your mouth while his rhythm slowly but surely picked up. He couldn’t get enough of you struggling to take him, but at the same time, something bitter left behind a sour taste in his mouth again when he noticed tears spill from your eyes, deciding to let you breathe, if only just for a second.

Slapping the side of your face again with his palm, he played it off as annoyance, not concern, “Keep up with me.”

Pushing through it all again, he rocked his hips against your head while staring straight ahead this time; focusing more on the sensation than anything else. He rutted his hips as his release gradually built up, surrendering to something darker than the initial lust that fuelled him—guttural moans escaping his mouth as he let go of being careful for a moment, forcing himself to forget that it was you, that it was just one good feeling, that you weren’t crying—that you weren’t in the process of growing to dislike him.

(Something he truly feared above everything else was those he liked to think badly of him, an insecurity he kept safely hidden. He was the strongest and enjoyed a good ego boost, but what did that matter when the people he cared about didn’t think the same?)

He faltered as this revelation hit, despite being close to his end but strove forward to see it through, regardless. The guilt was already there from the start, so he just had to push through it once more.

“I’m close,” he warned as he leaned forward, one arm prepped against the shelves for stability while the other pushed at your head, demanding release.

Satoru held onto you as the sensations intensified, his movements beginning to get erratic as his breathing shuddered against his lips. He slammed his hips against your face, eyes fluttering as they rolled back, shooting hot white ropes of cum into your mouth and sealing himself forward to not even dare make a mess.

“Swallow for me,” he demanded, refusing to leave behind a trail of evidence while his thoughts now spiralled. He could feel you struggle to accept his load in that way, knowing it was likely not the safest to empty himself like that without giving you as much as a breather, but it was already done.

You reluctantly did so, feeling it travel down your throat. A sickening sensation.

Studying your face as he finally pulled out from you, tucking away his now spent cock back into his trousers, he didn’t quite understand how to proceed with the consequences.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” he warned, “it’ll be our little secret, right?”

With a strained demeanour, you nodded, knowing fully well that this couldn’t remain hidden for very long because Suguru could read you strangely well and such a prospect troubled you, given how he reacted the last time when you told him the truth.

As Satoru left in what seemed to be a hurry, he left the doors to everywhere else unlocked for your eventual departure. He wasn’t about to face you again so soon, the guilt of the aftermath already taking its toll. He couldn’t help but wonder if Suguru had a similar reaction after; the feeling of something almost nauseating that almost violently haunted him after.

You too, felt something horrible stir within you as you remained slumped against the shelves with your eyes blurring on and off from the tears that kept gathering and spilling again and again. A burning sensation after a while, as though to remind you that you were indeed in hell.

It wasn’t quite anger, nor shame, nor sadness. It wasn’t guilt, nor disgust, nor even disappointment.

No, it was a combination of everything.

And in a moment of realisation, it all started to make sense at last—in fact, you understood it all so perfectly well now.

You were starting to hate yourself.

[bbunivxrse]

❥ HATED HIM - SATORU GOJO

pairing: - gojo x f!reader contents: you hate gojo, but even so, youre forced to go on a mission with him, which ends badly. for you, anyway. - no warnings js fluff at the end but a bit ooc?? i think??? word count: 1.9k a/n: hi!! ik im late but happy new years!! i wanted to post earlier but i have no idea what to write :sob: if u have any requests pls send i need ideas

you’ve always hated Satoru Gojo. the day you met him you knew you’d never want to be around him. his persistent grossly inflated ego and cocky attitude always had your gears grinding. the way he seemed to somehow develop a crush on you despite you never saying a single kind or loving word to him is beyond you. he has no shame in trying to flirt with the girl that not only has no interest in him, but also openly hates him. no matter how many people are around he’ll always go out of his way to bother you. everytime you hear him speak you think about how fucking lucky he is to be the strongest, if he wasn’t you would’ve taken care of him and his attitude already. 

you weren’t shy to make this opinion known, even straight to his face. all your classmates seemed to understand and even agree, everyone except for gojo of course, who always persisted that he is the ‘best person ever’ and that ‘nobody can hate him’. your friend utahime seemed to really enjoy listening to your long, harsh rants about him, reminding you that your not alone in your detest for gojo. 

Today you had what seemed to be a start to a good morning, until you were informed you had a mission to attend to the very next day. that news alone obviously wasn’t enough to ruin your mood, you had missions all the time, it was normal. this mission however was not only a special grade curse, but it was also assigned to just you and gojo. 

“man, that sucks..” shoko sighs, patting your shoulder. after explaining and ranting about your situation you felt a bit better, but still didn’t change the fact that you’d be out overnight, possibly for two nights, alone on a mission with gojo. you groan in frustration just at the thought. “don’t you ever think you’re being a bit hard on him, y/n?” his best friend piped up. he just happened to be passing by and eavesdropping on your conversation. “well of course you’d defend him.” you roll your eyes as suguru laughs. 

to be completely fair, maybe you were a bit harsh when it came to gojo. but that didn’t matter to you when all he does is put his face in your business 24/7, attempting to flirt while simultaneously pushing your buttons whenever he gets the chance and only laying off when you get annoyed enough to actually scare him away. “i wouldn’t have to hate him so much if he wasn’t so annoying.” you shrug, feeling completely justified in every word you’ve said. suguru nods understandingly as he considers your words. he does know that gojo can most certainly be a handful.

the day of the mission arrives and you’re up early, getting ready and packing your bag to set out on the mission. with your extra time you decide to keep yourself calm by reading a book you’ve had on your to-read list for waaayyy too long. it was nice until you realized gojo was late, then you were back in your grumpy mood waiting on him. “hi y/n!! are you ready for our honeymoon together??” gojo waves enthusiastically, his loud voice was already starting to irritate you, along with him unapologetically showing up an hour after the established meeting time. “you’re late.” 

“i had stuff to do.” gojo frowned, but you know all too well he had absolutely nothing to do. the day is gonna be too long to keep arguing with him, so you decide to be the bigger person for once and begin to make your way to your next destination without saying a word to him. “wooow! you’re not even gonna say anything to me?? i’m so hurt!!” gojo whines behind you, already managing to piss you off at the beginning of your mission.

the place you were headed to was a building that was rumored to be haunted. supposedly it had been involved in a lot of accidents in the area. people last being seen near the house before going missing, car accidents in the area, reported “weird activity” inside the house. it was enough to have the curse inside deemed a special grade, which meant the two of you needed to focus on this mission and you know gojo isn’t gonna do that.

after a long ass train ride that felt like it was gonna go on forever because of gojos endless talking, the two of you made it to the house. it was much older than all other houses on the street and was visibly abandoned and overgrown. the immense amount of cursed energy coming from inside was a bit intimidating, even for you, and made you a bit tense, which did not go unnoticed. “you really scared of some little house?” gojo teased, which took you out of your train of thought. “obviously i’m not scared. i’ve dealt with worse.” you lied through your teeth. of course you’re not gonna reveal that you’re actually trembling in your boots.

“that things no match for me! since you’re soooo scared, why don’t you sit this one out and let me take care of it, princess? i'd hate to see your pretty face get hurt,” truth is, gojo can tell just as well as you can that this curse was no joke. he knows you’re powerful and could probably handle something like this on your own but he doesn’t wanna risk it. seeing you get messed up by a curse while he’s there to protect you, he’d never forgive himself! “no thanks.” you reply dryly, walking up to the house and heading inside. 

the presence of the curse inhabiting that house was just as, if not even more intense than it was from the outside and honestly unlike anything you’d dealt with at that point, which is probably why it was able to catch you off guard. you hadn’t even been able to get a glimpse of it before it had you on the floor, across the room and unconscious. 

waking up, it felt like you had been asleep for decades. at first you were happy to be in your bed, until you realized it wasn’t your bed. your head hurt like hell, it felt like your brain was too big for your skull and wanted to break free. the lights in the room blaring in your eyes didn’t help. you tried to sit up, suddenly feeling waves of pain along your weakened body. when you were able to sit up, the one person you were hoping not to see was looking out the window and had been alerted by the sound of bedsheets shuffling.

“hi y/n!!!” he yells excitedly, getting up and bringing his chair to sit beside you. “i totally saved your ass! that cursed fucked you up bad!” gojo laughs at you. under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be amused by his antics, but especially now it was even more upsetting. for one, you were embarrassed. the man you hate most watched you get absolutely folded by some random ass curse. and on top of that he had to save you and bring you back afterwards. the realization made your blood run cold and you couldn’t even be bothered to look him in the eyes. you hear him lightly sigh in response to your silence.

The switch in his demeanor was sudden when he can visually see on your face how hurt you are, physically and emotionally. “i know your head probably hurts. i got you some advil.” you finally look up at gojo, before looking down at the bedside table to see a little bottle of advil and a glass of water. “the water had ice in it but.. it melted.” as you graciously take the advil and gulp down the water like you hadn’t drank for days, you think about the amount of time that must’ve passed, evident by the pinkish hue of the sky and the bright orange sunlight shining through the window and onto the floor. 

after finishing the glass of water and setting it down you sat in silence, your lightly bandaged arms lying in from of you. you decide to appreciate the silence, as normally gojo would be laughing and teasing to no end. and after a catastrophic mission like this? being knocked cold out for hours? you thought you wouldn’t hear the end of it from him, but surprisingly you hadn’t heard a word. “is the advil working?”

“it hasn’t even been 10 minutes.” you hiss at him, instantly missing the peace and quiet. you take a quick look at gojo, noticing the unusual darkness of his bright blue eyes and the way his hair is somehow messier than it usually is. he almost looks like he’s been through war even though you know that isn’t the case. he probably made light work out of that damn curse. “remember what i said..? about not forgiving myself if i couldnt protect you?”

"you did not say that." you actually look up at him but his gaze is focused on the floor in front of him. “i know you hate me and all but.. i really care for you, y’know? you had me kinda worried.” he somewhat laughs to himself but not the same way he usually does.

“sorry.” is all you can whisper out. “thank you for saving me, though.” as much as you want to be nice to him for saving your life, the way his demeanor changes when your gratefulness strokes his ego makes you regret it. “yeah, i know. i’m awesome. don’t i deserve a reward?” gojos eyes light up again, continuously making you regret being kind to him for once. but at the same time, considering his sweeter words to you, you’ll humor him. “what kinda reward?” you roll your eyes playfully. “hmmmm… i think i deserveee….” gojo pretends to think hard, putting his hand to his chin. “a kiss!!” the slight smile on your face instantly melts, which in turn causes gojo to start pouting and whining like a child. “don’t look at me like that! i saved your life and patched you up and all i’m asking for is a kiss!!”

“i don’t want to kiss you.” gojos jaw drops as he genuinely looks shocked by your blatant statement. “what!? how could you not want to kiss me?! you owe me your life!!” all you can do is sigh and cross your arms, which leads gojo to using a different avenue to convince you. “pleeeaseee baby? one kiss won’t hurt…” the look he gave you can only be described as the same one a sad kitten would give you when they want you to give them food. his face almost makes you feel bad for your mean words since he looks like he’ll genuinely cry if you don’t agree to kiss him. “fine. one kiss. hurry up.” gojos face lights up in a way you’ve never seen before, a big smile across his face as he practically lounges onto the bed beside you. he swiftly places a hand around your waist while the other picks up your legs and places them on his lap. “can you slow down! i said one kiss. not whatever this is.” 

“it will be one kiss! or maybe two? i don’t care, i’ve been waiting for this!” before you can say a word, he already has his lips on yours. you couldn’t deny that he was a good kisser. suddenly everything and everyone melted away and it was just the two of you, your hands on his chest and his around your waist. you kinda wanted it to stay like this, in a weird twisted way you never thought you’d feel with a man like gojo.

i think this would make the perfect prequel to a cute fic if anyone wants a pt 2!! js lmk!!

[cursed2soul]

Please don’t leave me || Gojo Satoru x reader

After Geto’s rampage, you start to fall into a pit of darkness. You want to leave the Jujutsu society but Gojo doesn’t want to. He wants you to be there for him along the way but can he convince you to if you’re so broken? Gojo will always be there for you, don’t you know that? Because between you and him, he is just Gojo satoru.

It’s been 3 weeks since the incident with Geto happened. 3 weeks since the massacre, 3 weeks of not seeing him, 3 weeks of more missions and 3 weeks of feeling lonely. The higher ups were not considerate, they had the nerve to give you more missions, not allowing you to take a break.

You’re done. You’re so tired, tired of the Jujutsu society. The higher ups are selfish and you will only witness more deaths before meeting your own doom. What am you even here for? You don’t even know, who am I doing this for? You can’t answer because there is no answer.

Sometimes you wonder what it’s like to live a normal life, to be so free and happy without witnessing death that just breaks you. Maybe it’s time to experience that and leave the Jujutsu world behind before it’s too late.

——————————————————————————————————

“Y/n…”

A voice calls out to you and you turn around to find Satoru sitting down next to you on the bench. You stare at him, knowing that he knows that you’re not ok.

Everyone knows, even Nanami who has been going distant. Shoko could tell that you were also not ok. Yaga was very worried about you but he couldn’t get anything out of you. Gojo decided to try to talk to you, he has the closest friend you had after all.

“Umm is there anything you want to talk about? You haven’t been yourself lately” he said, trying to find the right words to say.

Letting out a sigh, you decide to tell him because you’re gonna leave anyways. “I want to leave Jujutsu Tech”

You could feel the many different emotions that Gojo was experiencing. Shock, confusion and denial.

“W-what..?” He stutters.

“I want to leave Jujutsu Tech and the Jujutsu world, live a normal life.” You state.

“No..why? Is it because if the situation with Geto? Y/n please, as Jujutsu sorcerers this is expected, we’ll get through this y/n just please don’t-“

And that’s when you let out all the emotions that you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks. You stood up, “Because I’m tired! I’m tired Satoru, I’m tired of everything! Loosing people, witnessing my friends die, missions, I don’t even have a chance to fix myself! I’m just so sick and tired of everything! I want to live a normal life, I’m 16 gojo, I’m just a teenager yet I’m here saving lives, I should be studying, having fun with friends, going out, shopping, travelling…”

You turn away, not wanting to see his pitiful expression but a pair of arms wrap around you , making you turn, Gojo was hugging you, the strongest sorcerer.

Gojo knew that he could be himself around you, he could be Gojo Satoru around you, not the strongest. He doesn’t hesitate to hug you.

His hugging makes it impossible for you to escape.

“Y/n..i know that you’re devastated with everything happening right now but me, shoko and nanami are as well.. we need you y/n to be there with us, I need you! We’ll go through this together, we’ll find a way! I’ll do anything..absolutely anything! Just please….don’t leave me like everyone else…?” He lets his words and begging out without a doubt.

You start to resist, fighting back so you can just run away but Gojo holds you tightly, going even tighter as you wince.

“S-satoru..l-let go…y-you’re h-hurting m-me”

He softens his grip, still hugging you “don’t go y/n, please stay with me..”

“B-but I’m tired Satoru…” You say while a tear starts to escape your eye.

Gojo starts to rub circles on your back while you cry. “Y/n I have a dream, a dream to reform the Jujutsu world, I will become a teacher at Jujutsu tech and I want you to be there for me…if you leave, my dream will be incomplete so please, please stay with me…”

Your body feels light as you weaken, Gojo holds you in a bridal style now, you wrap your arms around his neck. “I..I don’t want to stay…I have no idea why I’m even doing this! Do you know how scary it is? We’re just here working until we die…”

“Then..stay for me!” Gojo declares “you have me, shoko and nanami here with you and I’m sure you won’t die, you’re strong and i would never let you die, i’m the strongest after all”

You let out a smile “fine…I’ll stay….just for you”

And from that point, Gojo carries you back to the world you hate the most, the world that you just can’t stand. But maybe it won’t be bad later on, as long as Gojo is by your side, he always will be, he’ll never leave you.

——————————————————————————————————

You smile at the photo card in front of you, the photo that you and Gojo created a week after you tried to leave. He was true to his word and was with you every step. Even when Geto’s death was announced, you felt no sadness. Just pity that things had to turn out that way.

You put the photo card back in your pocket and hear a notification from your phone. You open it to see a text from Gojo.

“Hey y/n ~~, amazing bestfriend Satoru here :], meet me at the park tonight at 7pm! No exceptions!”

You giggle at the text, leaving a yes reply.

Gojo will always be there for you, even if he’s always busy and being the strongest, he will always have time for you because between you and him, he is just Gojo satoru.

[sweet-evie]

Baby Megumi & Best Sister Tsumiki Headcanons feat. Teen Dad!Gojo because I love this family unit, and my JJK brainrot is worsening the closer we get to 6th of July. 🫠

These are probably done before, but idgaf because we're about to see baby Megumi and high school Gojo again~ 🥹 Also, I'd rather do these instead of write fics because my Death Note X Code Geass crossover still needs my attention.

Megumi has a stuffed animal collection. 🐺 It started with one stuffed wolf that Satoru got him for his 1st birthday with Gojo, and Megumi pretended he didn't like them, but ummm... 8 years later, Megumi has 75 animal plushies. I like to think they're all small and cute.

If Shibuya and the other BS didn't happen, Megumi would have received another stuffed animal or two for his 16th birthday. Because tradition. 🥹

Just like Megumi has a collection of stuffed animals, Tsumiki has a collection of dolls. *cough cough* Barbies... It started with Licca-chan and eventually Satoru caught her eyeing Barbies in toy stores, so he bought her one. And then two. And then whole sets for Christmas or her birthday or whenever she showed Gojo her report card.

In addition to dolls, Tsumiki definitely had one of those big Barbie houses when she was 8.

Tsumiki ropes Megumi into playing dolls with her. He does it to make his sister happy. And they always include Megumi's stuffed animals.

Tsumiki had Barbie Posh Pets. (Totally not projecting... Maybe I am). I had those as a kid and the set includes a pregnant mama cat + 3 kittens. You can open the mama cat's tummy and take out a pink kitten. (That's kind of fucked up when I think about it now 🤦‍♀️). I imagine it's that sort of nightmare-inducing shit that Satoru notices and gets because he thinks it's funny. 🙃

The Barbie Posh Pet in question that Tsumiki definitely owns:

Anyway... Speaking of Barbie... Tsumiki saw her first Barbie movie because Satoru brought home a Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper DVD on one of their movie nights. He was just assuming she would like it...

She liked it, and they always had Barbie movies in the movie night roster ever since. Tsumiki loves them. Megumi thinks they're whatever but is amused, because Barbie movies have talking animals, and Satoru just loves to poke fun at the plot.

Megumi watches wildlife documentaries for fun. He's a National Geographic and Discovery Channel kid. He has a DVD collection that came with the encyclopedia set Satoru bought.

Megumi liked movies with animals. Are we surprised? He's seen all of the Dr. Dolittle movies.

Tsumiki cried watching Bambi. 🦌 Someone else definitely got teary-eyed while watching Bambi too. That 'someone' will also never admit it, even if Satoru totally caught that particular someone rubbing his eyes with his small fists during that scene.

Speaking of getting teary-eyed at watching cartoons. Satoru's damn lucky he can hide behind his blackout sunglasses, because he was totally sad and emotional when they finished watching The Fox and the Hound. 🦊🐶 You look at that Tod and Cooper friendship and tell me it doesn't remind you of SatoSugu a little bit.

The refrigerator in Megumi and Tsumiki's apartment is stocked with 80% sweets. It's Satoru's fault.

Satoru attends Megumi's and Tsumiki's parent-teacher meetings in elementary school, and he's popular with the PTA parents (especially the moms). Megumi hates it, Gojo revels in the attention. Some teachers invited him to be in the PTA, but ultimately, this special-grade sorcerer always has to decline. He's way too busy.

Elementary career days = Satoru telling the kids that he's a very powerful magician. 🎩🪄🐇 The kids believe him and the adults think he's joking. Well technically, he isn't.

Satoru is prone to bribing child tantrums with McDonalds. It doesn't always work.

Satoru, Megumi, and Tsumiki definitely went camping a couple of times. Sometimes Shoko tags along, but she never stays overnight.

Satoru lost Megumi at the mall. Tsumiki always found her little brother. He's honestly not that hard to find. He's either in a bookstore or a pet shop or a toy store that sells things Megumi likes.

Tsumiki is very forgiving of Satoru's tendency to lose Megumi in the mall.

Ice cream or parfaits for dinner are normal when you're living with Gojo. 🍨🍦

They've been to Disneyland. 🏰

Megumi likes zoos and aquariums.

Tsumiki is fond of handcrafting appreciation gifts for Satoru. 🎁Friendship bracelets, knitted socks and mittens she made in homeroom once that are way too small for him, multi-colored dreamcatchers (she made one for Megumi too of course), birdseed ornaments, lots of origami, very small bead bowls, flowers made of cupcake liners, etc.

Satoru has all of Tsumiki's DIY handicrafts tucked away in an Air Jordan shoebox. He also has a jar full of origami paper cranes that Tsumiki made when she was in her origami phase.

Satoru always took the kids to fun festivals whenever he could.

Satoru gave Megumi and Tsumiki the childhood they deserved -- gave them the childhood they were almost robbed of when Toji and Tsumiki's mom abandoned them, gave them the childhood Gojo never got to have.

All of that before Megumi lost Tsumiki and his life started spiraling for the worst. 😭

#Save&FreeMegumiPLEASE!

[lynxrq]

❥𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨.

➵| 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 |

T/w: inappropriate language/words, (smut)

❥part 3

About what happened the previous day, still hunts you and you knew you couldn't forget about what happened so easily, how his hands ran through your body, making you crave for his touch. A moaning mess to his kiss. Will that change or?

Toji left early in the morning, you were offended that he didn't tell you earlier even though you are supposed to not care for whatever he does. But he still found a way to interfere in your mind.

You were thinking about all the possibilities about where he would be, and that's when the doorbell rang, you thought it will be Toji, but..

You walked to the door and peeked through the window to know who it was. Your face beamed when you found out who it was, Gojo. His white hair that sticks out too much was messy. And he wore the shades that you always made fun of. Black tee with jeans, dressed casually. Your colleague, that also happened to be your go to best friend. You quickly opened the door to find Geto also standing beside him, his dark hair slicked back with a gentle smile on his face as he said,

“Hey, miss us?” he said still with that pleasant smile on his face, while gojo grinned

“Never” you spoke up fast, sarcastically that earned a laughter from both of them

“Come on, in” you invited them in.

“woah? Is this your man’s house?” Geto exclaimed,

You nodded at your friends while they were still looking around the house.

“So what is it? An unexpected visit? Hmm?” You questioned both of them as they both looked at you at the same time before they smiled and gojo said,

“I knew you would be sad without us” He stuck out his bottom lip teasing you, geto chuckled at that.

“Oh please—we both know how both of you couldn't sit still without me” you argued back

Geto laughed at that before saying “well, well, we came to call you for a meet up, Shoko and Utahime will be there as well. So what do you think? you coming? If you want, you could tag your husband along as well”

“Please tell me you are coming, it will be fun” said gojo, being more persistent about the meet up than anyone else.

“I'll think about it.” You said, you knew you were going but just wanted to rail them up. Expecially Gojo

“Oh come on!” Gojo groaned, rolling his eyes, obviously done with your attitude.

“So when is it?” When you asked about the time, gojo's eyes lit up, afterall, it will be boring without your best friend.

“I'll message you” Geto said, before crossing over his arms while looking at gojo

“Where is he? Your husband?” Gojo asked, curiously. Obviously forgetting that you are a married women now

“who knows? He left without a message.” that made their face cringe as you admitted this.

“Damn, that's harsh” said Geto, with an awkward laugh while averting his gaze away from you,

It was awkward for a while then Gojo cracked a joke to ease the awkwardness and we were back to normal. After they stayed for a while, if my so-called husband would come home but realising that he wasn't coming home any minute, they decided to leave some time later.

------❅------

You were about to get into the shower, that's when the doorbell rang for the second time today. And this time you knew it was actually him. You were already undressed, too lazy to get dressed again, you saw one of the tank tops on your still half-unpacked luggage that arrived yesterday. You quickly put it on and one of the shorts and walked to the door

You didn't care looking through the window to make sure it was him, you opened it anyway.

There he stood, with a buttoned down black shirt, the sleeves rolled up, that suited him a little too well. His hair falling over his eyes that he is staring right at you, he was scanning your body. Your nipples poked through the fabric of your top. And now you're suddenly aware of the way you looked in front of him

You stepped back to let him inside. He had his phone on one of his hands and his coat that hangs down his forearm. He put down the coat on the couch, oh how his muscles flexed.

“it's a shame that i didn't stay home if that is how you were dressed the whole day” He turned around before saying, while a devilish smirk spread across his face.

“I was about to take a shower” you informed him, while walking back to your room

He hummed like he heard you, but you didn't look back and entered the room before taking a shower

------❅------

By the time you were done with your bath, Toji was already slacking off on the couch watching TV. He noticed you when you came out of your room, but went back to what he was doing

You were about to go to the kitchen for a quick snack, when your phone rang, you went inside your room to get your phone. You quickly picked up the phone when you learned that it was Geto calling.

He said that he had sent you the location and time and that he was also looking forward to the meeting, and asked if toji will also be there, which you were unsure of. After a while you hung up the call.

You needed to tell Toji about the gathering, but for now you were really hungry so you focused on going back to the kitchen for your snack.

When you set foot into the kitchen, you saw Toji was there, leaning on the kitchen counter.

You didn't pay much attention and opened the fridge for something cold. When you laid your eyes on the cold pastry, you were about to pick it before he said,

“Who was it?” He asked casually, when you looked up through the door of the fridge he was already looking at you

“Friend” you replied, before getting the pastry you wanted and a spoon and then walked to the couch and sat down, of course he was following you and sat beside you.

You avoided his presence and started to taste some of the pastry until he asked,

“Can I have some?”

When you turned your face to his, he tilted his head to you, even though he asked for the pastry, his eyes were completely hooked to you, totally ignoring whatever you were consuming

You nodded before standing up to get another spoon for him, but to your surprise, he grabbed your hand and pulled, forcing you to sit down. And you did.

“I thought you wanted some?” You asked, obviously confused.

“Yeah..?” He hummed and took the spoon you used and took a perfect scoop and tasted the pastry.

“sweet” he said, savouring it down until a grin flashed on his face and came close to you for more of your pastry.

“Can I have some more?” He pleaded still with that stupid grin that you wanted to wipe off of him.

You felt that you were responding to his words by how flushed you were by his action

You yanked your spoon back from him, getting up to leave.

“Come on, you're no fun” he said, crossing his arms over his chest while he relaxed on the couch.

You looked back at him one more time before heading to your room

He grabbed your hand once again, you didn't think he would because but by the look he had, he was done with playing, but it seems he isn't done with you yet.

“How could you leave like that, after I begged you for more?” he asked after he stood up, now wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you in, staring at you fixedly.

“Can i?” tightening his grip around you, he asked again

You nodded before he took your spoon that you willingly gave him, with a smirk on his face like he won in a game

“Thank you” he said in a cocky manner, not taking his eyes off of you as he ate the pastry with so much fondness to it.

“Want some?” He is the one asking now, stretching out the spoonful of sweet. You wanted it, you'll admit that, but you were having second thoughts about whether you should accept his proposal or not.

Before you could respond he had already put it inside his mouth, he was messing with you at this point.

You nodded your head the next minute, he caught that and held back a chuckle before he stretched another spoonful of pastry

You opened your mouth to taste it again, and when you did, you felt like you accomplished something but what you didn't expect was to taste him as well.

His lips crashed down onto yours unexpectedly, he planned this whole thing and you fell right into his scheme. You could feel him smiling between the kiss

With so much embarrassment wrapping you right now, You wished you could've just fade away right there.

He licked your lower lip to enter your mouth, was it accidentally? Or was it intentionally?, you let him in by some means.

The sweetness never left, the icing on the pastry still lingering on both of your tongues made the kiss more magical.

A single string of saliva connecting the two of you, when he pulled away

“delicious, right?” he asked, before licking his lips. Completely enjoying the situation.

“Do not— Do not talk” you said, with a reddened face while wiping the spit away

He raised his eyebrow, and chuckled and said “Why? Want more?”

Before you could answer, he turned around and walked away, laughing with your pastry.

You hated him for always leaving you like this, before you could even say anything. But this time you weren't going to let him go like that.

You rushed towards him and grabbed his collar and pulled him closer to your lips, stopping mere inches from his lips from touching yours.

“Try me” you said, glaring into his eyes. That has now, turned even darker. Maybe he was already holding himself back, but after you came up to him yourself, made him think he could engage with you for some time more.

Now that he got your permission, he didn't waste any time to pull you into a kiss, every time you kissed, both of you fell for each other a little bit.

“Getting hasty now, aren't we?” He said while the pair were a panting mess. His lips brushed your cheek down your neck till he reached a certain point that made a wave of pleasure erupt throughout your body. After realising your sensitive spot, he kept kissing and sucking you there, making you whine more for him.

He removed his cloth in a quick motion, and one of his hands went up inside your short top, undoing your bra with ease that fell down beside you.

He grabbed your other hand and made you feel his length getting harder each second

“Will you?” he asked with desperation, loving the way your hand is rubbing him through the fabric.

You kissed his neck as a response that he very much understood, he left a gentle breathy chuckle

The kiss dropped downwards, from the neck till reaching the dampened area of the fabric, Oh, how wet he was. For you.

That specific thought caused the heat building up in yourself to burn twice as much as it used to be.

When you undid the zipper, you didn't know what you were expecting but when your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, you knew it was too big.

He let out a groan when your hand made contact with the base, throwing his head back once you started stroking it, precum leaking down, made it easier for you to pleasure him

“Just like that— haa..” he whispered, sweat rolling down his temple, enjoying each and every second of this

When you took him down your throat he couldn't wait any longer, before he started moving on his own, controlling you as he pleases.

About to burst any moment, he pulled out just before he came all over your face, and then there was it, again, that cocky smile, seeing your messed up face with his cum and your spit smeared all over your face made him even more excited for what was about to happen next.

Getting what he wanted, now, he had focused all on you, he had already removed your sweats. Throwing you on the couch, he grabbed your thighs and spread your legs, to know how drenched you were for him.

He had stretched the panties to a side to get a taste of you. Tasting you has never been more heavenly for him, it was perfect, just like how he wanted. The drenched panties now at your ankle, one of your legs over his broad shoulder.

He hasn't yet stopped savouring you.

“This is too much— Fuck, Toji—” you moaned, doing your best to hold back your moans, he noticed it rather quickly. That he had started making eye contact with you as he was eating you out. The way his hair fell over his eyes, His tongue gliding through your slick, This only turned you on even more.

You could feel the orgasm that was almost there getting ahead of you. You knew you couldn't prevent it and didn't want to. You wanted him to keep pleasuring you like this.

Until you were quivering under him. And that's when, how easily you took his fingers in your cunt. He knew you were about to cum, rubbing and teasing your cunt to fasten your orgasm, which he did.

"Such a greedy little pussy" he whispered, enough for you to listen

Your eyes rolled back when the wave of pleasure hit you, you came all over his mouth, he took out his finger as you collapsed onto the couch, trembling all over as the orgasm took over your body.

Grinning while he licked his lips as he said

“you tasted so good, hon — Even better than the pastry"

------❅------

❥previous part

[animeshotsh]

Choso and Yuuji with a OP lil sister HCs

Notes: Completly random fic. Just brainrot moments. AU. Gojo its your adoptive Dad! We dont follow the plotline because we want to be happy. SFW. OP lil sis because I say so. PLATONIC.

You are probably one of the many Kenjaku kids they had in their lifetime. Having human features but a big curse energy that envolves all your body and scares away the curses.

However, since that cursed energy showed itself late Kenjaku was sure you were a failure and left you.

You meet Yuuji first and he is confused about you being his lil sister till he sees you punch off a second grade curse giving him the most confused look when he runs to get you in his arms because you are so little and small? And you could have died? And poor Yuuji has lose too many people.

"But Gojo-sensei says im strong" add Gojo at the side nodding.

Under no reason you should be at Shibuya but you go because you have no sense of self preservation.

You also started to miss Yuuji and no one was back at the school to check on you.

Takes you few seconds to find Yuuji appearing behind him and staring to heal him. (So OP you know reverse curse technique Gojo is jealous).

"Big bro dont die! You promised we could go to the Park with Gumi-San (Megumi) and Kugi-san (Nobara)

Nobara its alive! You actually passed to say Hi to Yaga (who was pissed but no suprised to see you there). On your way to Yuuji and helped Shoko heal her.

When Choso hears "big bro" he turns to you and once you two make eye contact a flash of memories go into Choso's mind. You two being together since you were a few months old and how he would help you eat and walk.

Choso its in shock but if Itadori its his lil bro then you are his lil sis. No problem, he is happy he has a New family member.

And Kenjaku its pissed because how did such a perfect toll scape their sight?

Does not matter! Cause Yuuji and Choso are in big bro protective mode!!

Till you snap your fingers and Kenjaku brain explotes leaving behind Geto Suguru's Body and...a box?

A box you soon take cause its look strange and you are curious.

"....are these Gojo-sensei eyes?"

And somehow you end opening the box?

Last thing Gojo expected to see once out was you looking up to him confused (you look so cute he wants to hug you forever) and his best friends body (he needs theraphy).

Lets do a big time skip.

Choso is slowly adapting to the life in the school, he is so lucky to have Yuuji and You to help him!

Oh, and Yuuji grounded you because you went to Shibuya when he told you not to. But that same night you two slept together because he had nightmares.

Choso has so much big bro love towards you. He likes to chase you around and loves to let you do his hair. He is also amazed and scared of your powers. Would have loved if you had met his other brothers and sometimes cries because you are them when they were young.

Yuuji knows you longer than Choso does, he knows how Gojo raised you with Megumi, he has accepted that Megumi its your other big bro. But Choso cant seem to do it. The first time he saw you on Megumi's shoulders he went to his room and cried because he was not a good brother. (You never asked him to carry you on his shoulders so he feels bad).

But you are also a sneaky kid!! Since Gojo raised you, you got his sense of humor and ego so of course you go and scare both of them from time to time. Appearing at random times. Choso almost hitted you the first time and you almost broke his arm in self defense (amazing bonding).

He actually tells you, you can attack him if he tries to attack you first.

Missions are still happening and both Yuuji and Choso are so against you going out, even when Maki points out you are probably the next Gojo sussesor along side Yuuta.

-Its Yuuta another one I need to worry about?-

Choso thoughts because he is now worried you may have another big bro. (Who may be better than him and he cant risk it).

But no, you let him know only Megumi its your non biological big bro.

"And im your dad!" Gojo.

Anyway, Yuuji and Choso only let you go on missions if they can go with you. And most times they wont even let you fight.

So you are just there 🙍‍♀️ basically getting money from the missions by being a stand by.

One time a curse scaped Choso attack and decided you were its Next target.

It did not end well for the curse and Choso almost has a crisis because you ended covered in curse's blood.

Yuuji has to tell him the same happened while he was fightning a curse along side you to calm him down.

Somehow he gets stronger after it so no curse can Escape him. He PROTECTS.

Choso once decided to stay still all night because he could not bring himself to wake you up. Yuuji tried to tell him he could move but Choso insisted on not moving.

MOVIE NIGHTS. The three of you do lots of movie nights. During most of them you end sleeping in the middle of the movie on top of one of your big bros.

First time it happened to Yuuji he felt asleep too and Gojo took pics because you two looked so cute!!

Turns out you only wake up if you feel danger around you so now they can freely move you after you end sleeping again. (They end knowing this because you once feel asleep during a mission Gojo took you with him and when the curse got too close you woke up and vanished the curse). (Gojo was so proud of course he told everyone and got hate from Choso and Yuuji for putting you at risk).

Also, if Gojo spoiled you then your brothers now have a personal competition against him to spoil you more. You will be getting lots of gifts and treats!

[daisynik7]

The Apple of His Eye

Chapter 2: Friends In Low Places

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: alcohol consumption, drunken behavior, karaoke, our couple gets handsy, FLUFF, a few mentions of popular songs in the English language

Summary: You meet Nanami’s friends for the first time. Plenty of alcohol is consumed and you all end up at a karaoke bar.  

Author's Notes: This is the second fluffy side story for A Bento For Kento! I personally love karaoke myself, and I truly believe that Kento does too! I rewrote this to omit most of the English-language songs that I originally mentioned (I name-dropped A LOT before), just because I don't think they'd sing only these type of songs doing karaoke in Japan. Also, this is partially inspired by this Youtube playlist, which was one of the first pieces of fan-made media that got me into Nanami LOL. Anyways, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | The Apple of His Eye Masterlist | Next Chapter

Near the end of October, Nanami receives a call from Gojo. They talk and text often, but this phone call in particular is a special one. “Nanamin! How’s it going buddy?” Gojo’s voice is peppy, as usual.

“I’m fine. What is this about?”

“I’m taking Shoko out for an early birthday celebration tomorrow night. She wants to go to this sake bar she likes. You in?”

“Tomorrow night?” Nanami confirms. 

“Yeah. Oh, and bring your girlfriend too,” Gojo adds cheerfully. “I’d love to meet her. Shoko is curious too.”

Nanami makes a strangled noise in his throat before asking, “Why?”

His friend chuckles. “Because it’s been three months since you started dating and I still know nothing about her. I’d like to find out who your mystery woman is.”

“I told you. She’s Nakamura’s older sister.”

“Yes, yes, I know all about the bentos and love notes, blah blah blah. But I want to hang out with her, get to know her better! She sounds like an angel if she puts up with you.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! But seriously, bring her out with us. I already know Shoko and her will get along well. It’s only me she has to worry about,” he laughs mischievously.

Nanami tenses up, already annoyed at the type of shenanigans his colleague will pull out of his sleeves. “Gojo, I will not subject my girlfriend to any of your harassment.”

“I won’t harass her!” he whines. “Have I ever harassed any of your other girlfriends?”

“I’ve never introduced you to any of my other girlfriends.”

“Exactly. My track record is clean. C’mon. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

He takes a minute to contemplate. Introducing his girlfriend to Shoko isn’t the problem. He’s always had a respectable relationship with the laid-back doctor. However, exposing his sweet darling to the incorrigible Satoru Gojo…he shudders thinking about all the ways it could go wrong. Deep down, he knows nothing serious will happen. As much grief as he gives Gojo, Nanami still considers him one of his closest friends. However, he knows him too well; there’s no doubt Gojo will try to find ways to embarrass him in front of her. He finds pleasure in doing this, seeing Nanami’s face turn bright red after recounting one or several stories of their past together. 

He understands it’s an important step in any relationship to become acquainted to one another’s friends. He has already met hers, along with her immediate family. So far, Nanami has not introduced her to anyone in his life. His parents live too far to visit and as far as friends go, they are few and far between. Maybe this is a good opportunity to show her this part of his life. 

Eventually, he agrees. “Fine. Text me the details for tomorrow and we’ll meet you and Ieiri there.”

“Yay! Can’t wait. I’ll start making a list of questions to ask her. I’ll get Shoko to make a list too.”

Scowling into the phone, Nanami mutters, “I take it back, we’re not going anymore.”

“Kidding, kidding! Okay, see you tomorrow. Byeeeee!”

After they hang up, Nanami buries his face in hands. What did he get themselves into?

~~~

Saturday night, you and Nanami hold hands as you walk from the train station towards the sake bar. In your other hand is a small gift bag with a bottle of good Japanese whiskey that you picked up last night. Yesterday, your boyfriend informed you that you’ll be meeting two of his colleagues: Shoko Ieiri, who was his upperclassman at Jujutsu High, and the infamous Satoru Gojo. You’ve heard stories about this man, not only from Nanami, but from your brother Ren, who is currently Gojo’s student. Enough tales to have a vague idea of his personality. Playful, comical, a bit naughty, and constantly pestering your boyfriend. 

You have a strong feeling that the two of you will get along great. 

As you approach the entrance to the bar, you feel Nanami’s grip tighten around you. He turns to you with a clenched jaw and nervous look in his eyes. “I apologize in advance for anything outrageous Gojo does tonight. Please don’t think poorly of me after this encounter.”

You giggle, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Honey, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic? I’m sure he isn’t as awful as you say he is. In fact, he sounds fun.”

He sighs. “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though. Once we enter this establishment, there’s no turning back. We are essentially hostages under his control the rest of the night.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, but before you finish your question, he leads you into the bar, amused and now slightly spooked at your boyfriend’s ominous warning. As you weave through the crowd of people, Nanami seemingly knowing where to go, you recall yesterday’s conversation. 

After Nanami informed you about Ieiri’s birthday celebration, he mentioned, “It might not just be the sake bar. Since it’s Ieiri’s birthday, we may be out the whole night. Knowing Gojo, he’ll drag us all over Tokyo.”

Over the past three months of dating, Nanami would drop little hints about what he and Gojo would do whenever they hang out. He’s mentioned drunk karaoke before. Singing is definitely not one of Nanami’s hobbies, at least when he’s sober. Your man doesn’t sing in the shower, not even in the car. Personally, you love karaoke, so naturally, you’re curious and excited to see where the night will end up, especially with Gojo supposedly calling the shots. The thought of Nanami doing belting out ballads fills you with glee. 

At a table near the back, there is a pretty woman with long brown hair sitting next to a taller man with snow white hair. He wears dark, stylish sunglasses over his eyes, despite being indoors. They’re chatting, the man animated as the woman listens, pausing when the two of you approach them. “Nanamin! You made it!” Gojo stands up to pat Nanami’s shoulder, Ieiri greets you with a kind smile. 

“Hello, Gojo, Ieiri. This is my girlfriend.” Nanami introduces you as you shake their hands.

“So nice to meet you!”

“Glad to finally meet you too,” Gojo responds with a polite grin.

After formally greeting Ieiri, you hand the bag to her, “Happy birthday. I hope you like it. Kento told me you don’t like receiving gifts, but I figured this might be something we can enjoy together sometime.”

She eyes you curiously before reaching into the bag. When she pulls it out to reveal the liquor, she brightens. “Oh, I like you. I like her, Nanami. Thank you so much, I love it. We’ll definitely be drinking this sometime, maybe even tonight.”

“Tonight? Shoko, we just got here!” Gojo exclaims. “We don’t know what the night has in store for us yet.” As you all take your seats, he gives you a wink with that last statement. 

Ieiri recommends ordering the flights, which come with four different types of sake. She gets one for each person besides Gojo; she orders him a non-alcoholic Lychee beverage while he orders food for the table. As you wait for everything to arrive, you make small talk with each other. Nanami is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but you still want to check on him. Under the table, you reach your hand to his knee, giving him a squeeze. He wraps his fingers with yours, squeezing back, indicating that he’s fine.

The beverages arrive first. The four of you cheers to Ieiri’s birthday and drink. You are by no means an expert on sake, but this one is the smoothest you’ve ever tasted, going down like water. Ieiri finishes it fast, then grabs hold of the second, holding it up at the center of the table. “Ready for the second one?” she asks, raising her brow at you and Nanami.

“Shoko, aren’t you supposed to sip on it slowly?” Gojo hides a little naughty smile behind his Lychee mocktail. 

Suddenly, Nanami downs his sake and raises his other glass towards her. “Cheers, birthday girl.” She smiles and they both chug their second shot, easily. 

This is going to be an interesting night.

~~~

Satoru Gojo is no doubt a powerful Jujutsu Sorcerer. Arguably, the most powerful Jujutsu Sorcerer in the world. Nanami can confidently acknowledge that about his friend. 

However, Satoru Gojo possesses another power, unrelated to Jujutsu Sorcery. This power is constantly used on Nanami whenever the two go out together. For some reason, Gojo has this innate ability to get Nanami drunk.

Nanami still can’t explain it. Maybe it’s Gojo’s lively personality, or his friend’s dislike for alcohol that causes him to drink it all himself. The main reason is probably because it’s fun going out with Gojo. Nanami can let loose around him. There’s no judgement; he can let go of all his inhibitions for the night. He knows Gojo will not think differently of him the next morning, even if he does tease him a little bit. Even with Ieiri can Nanami put his guard down. He knows these two quite well and feels comfortable with them. 

Since dating his sweetheart, he hasn’t felt any desires to get drunk with her. Being around her is fun enough sober; the idea of getting intoxicated with her has never even crossed his mind. But when he’s with his friends, he enjoys drinking. He has fun with them, especially when he loosens up a bit. And to be honest, he loveskaraoke. He’ll deny it like no other when Gojo teases him, but he can honestly admit that it’s one of his favorite activities to do. And the only way to get him to do it is if he has a few shots in him. 

He wants to show his girlfriend this side of him. He knows that like Gojo, his sweetie will not judge. In fact, he thinks she’ll enjoy seeing him like this. He’s curious about her too. What is she like when she’s tipsy? Does she like karaoke as much as he does? Will they take care of each other if they’re both hungover the next day? What song can they do a duet to?

On his last shot, Nanami starts to feel his cheeks warm up. Their food hasn’t come out, so drinking on an empty stomach is hitting him harder than he expects. He glances at his girlfriend’s flight, noticing she’s only on her third. Smirking, he teases, “Can’t keep up?”

“I’m not used to drinking sake! But I’ll catch up, don’t worry!” 

Her determination is cute. She is cute. He’s tempted to scrunch her adorable cheeks together and kiss her forehead, but luckily, he remembers he’s in front of his friends. 

“Don’t feel pressured to keep up with them! Believe it or not, Shoko can outdrink Nanami, and that’s saying something,” Gojo explains, casually sipping his juice. 

Ieiri, who has since ordered her second flight, raises a glass with a proud smile and downs it. “One of my many skills.” 

Nanami orders another flight just as the food arrives to the table. Gojo ordered a plethora of sushi and appetizers that looks delicious. Making sure to get some substance in his belly before he continues to consume more alcohol, Nanami fills his plate with nigiri, gyozas, and karaage. He glances over at his sweetie, who begins to wobble slightly in her seat.

“Honey, are you okay?” he asks her quietly as Ieiri and Gojo talk amongst themselves.  

“Of course!” She stuffs a piece of nigiri in her mouth, smiling. “Why?”

“You’re swaying a bit.” He brushes his fingers against her cheek, which is hot to the touch.

“Oh, I get like this sometimes when I drink. Doesn’t happen much with wine, but I guess it does with sake.” She shrugs, returning to her plate of food, unfazed. 

Gojo stares at them, smirking, “Nanamin, it’s cute how concerned you are for your girlfriend. Reminds me of that one time.” 

Nanami groans, throwing back another shot. “Oh great, here we go.”

“What time?” his girlfriend asks, her curiosity and delight so obvious. 

“Do you know that the reason I don’t consume alcohol is because of this guy right here.” He points to Nanami, for emphasis. “Back in our early 20s, Nanami wanted to test out how much liquor he could handle, so he made me take shots with him until he got good and drunk. Mind you, this was the first time I’ve ever had alcohol. Unfortunately, my tolerance is very low, so after consuming as many shots as him, which was ten at this point, I was pretty much shit faced. I couldn’t even stand up straight! I think I was talking in tongues or something and little Nanamin here got so worried, he was calling everyone about what to do. Poor guy was in tears, thinking he killed me.”

“I almost did. I still feel guilty about it to this day,” Nanami interjects.

“He made me swear off alcohol after that. Lectured me about how bad it is for me, especially. I think seeing me puke my guts out traumatized him. But it turns out, he was right. I think it fucks up some of my techniques, so I just steer clear of it completely. Plus, I think it tastes icky.” Gojo laughs with a wave of his hand.

Nanami’s girlfriend has a big grin on her face. “I like that story! Got any embarrassing ones?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty. Has he ever told you about the time I convinced him to go through a haunted house with me? Shoko was there too, she can attest to all of this!”

Nanami rolls his eyes, smiling. He continues to sip on his last glass of sake as they lean in close together to share stories and laughter. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but he feels a pleasant warmth in his chest. Seeing the people in his life gathered like this is something he’s secretly dreamed about for a while now, and it’s actually happening. Before he gets too sentimental, he finishes the rest of his liquor and reaches over to stuff his mouth with another piece of sushi. 

Ieiri ends up ordering a third flight, but only gets through two glasses. She gives the remaining sake to Nanami, who is now tipsy. Maybe even close to being drunk. All he knows for sure is that he feels giddy. He rests his head onto his girlfriend’s shoulder, sighing. She giggles as she caresses his knee. “You good, Kento?”

Gojo, who is checking out for them, smirks. “I think he’s a little tipsy.”

“You’re losing your touch, Nanami. I still don’t feel a thing,” Ieiri claims. 

“Hey, it’s not his fault that your stomach is an unending abyss for liquor,” Gojo teases. 

Nanami mutters, “Let’s call it a night. I’m ready to sleep.”

“Oi oi oi, don’t even think about going home yet. The night is still young and there’s a karaoke bar down the street that’s calling for us.”

“We’ve also got an entire bottle of Japanese whiskey to consume,” Ieiri adds, holding up the gift bag. “Can’t let this bad boy go to waste.”

Nanami responds, “You can’t possibly be implying that we finish that whole bottle tonight, right? Shoko, that’s impossible. No way.”

Ieiri and Gojo grin simultaneously, staring at Nanami. “Someone is drunk,” Ieiri snickers.

Gojo faces Nanami’s girlfriend, who has been laughing the past few minutes, explaining, “Whenever Kento is drunk, he starts calling us by our first names. It’s actually quite sweet.”

“Shut up, Satoru. Leave me alone,” he blurts out.

Shoko and Satoru cackle as they get up from the table. 

“So, karaoke then?”

~~~

It takes less than five minutes to walk to the karaoke bar. You hear the bass bumping from the outside as Nanami holds your hand, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up his forearms. As Gojo pays for a private room, Nanami leans in, whispering, “I love you, baby.” His mouth is warm against your ear, the sweet scent of alcohol lingering on his breath.

You giggle. “I love you too, Kento.”

“No, seriously. I love you. You’re literally an angel. My sweet angel.” He is just too cute right now. You laugh louder. “Kento, you’re drunk.”

“Maybe I’m a bit tipsy, but I promise I mean everything I’m saying. I love you so fucking much.” This man is going to be the death of you. You’re quite buzzed yourself, but you start feeling drunk off his affectionate words. You give him a quick peck on the cheek before Gojo leads you all into a private room. It’s dark inside, with only blue and purple mood lighting on the ceiling. Gojo stands by the karaoke machine, trying to get everything set up while the rest of you sit on the couch. Nanami slumps beside you and leans his head back. A waiter comes in with several glasses and a whole pitcher of water. Ieiri pours it into a glass and hands it to you, smiling. “We should stay hydrated if we’re going to be singing.”

You return her smile and give your thanks, taking a sip before passing it to Nanami. He shakes his head and declines. “No. No water. Need alcohol.”

Ieiri chuckles as you push the glass of water in front of his lips. “Just drink some water first.”

He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “No.”

“Don’t bother, Nanami is still stubborn even when he’s drunk,” Gojo comments.

You lean close to him, begging, “Please, baby? For me?” You slide your hand on his thigh.

With his arms still crossed, he opens his mouth as you tip the glass to his lips. You watch him take a couple of gulps before setting the drink on the table, satisfied with your tactic. Gojo chortles as he takes a seat beside Ieiri. “I stand corrected. Now, which song should we sing first?”

Nanami stands up, reaching for one of the microphones on the table. “Satoru. You know what song I want.”

“On it.” Gojo flips through the music catalog until he finds what he’s looking for, then enters a series of numbers on the remote. 

Ieiri relaxes into the couch, the same pleasant smile on her face. “Hope you’re ready for this.”

Interested and slightly nervous, you sit back with her to enjoy whatever show your boyfriend is about to perform for you. A familiar tune begins to play, and after a couple of beats, you recognize it as the song Rock Your Body thumping through the speakers. Nanami sways his hips side-to-side in tandem with the rhythm as he sings, “Don’t be so quick to walk away, dance with me! I wanna rock your body, please stay, dance with me!”

Gojo leans forward to look at you, yelling, “He always picks this as his first song! Always!” He also begins moving his body to the music while Ieiri nods her head to it. 

This might be one of the best things you’ve ever seen. Kento Nanami, your boyfriend, dancing and singing to a pop hit from the y2k era. No video could ever do this justice, so you just simple watch and enjoy with your own eyes. On the second chorus, he turns to you, a goofy expression on his face, tickling you under your chin, serenading, “I wanna rock your body, please stay, dance with me!” Gojo and Ieiri let out a loud whoop as you giggle, grabbing his hips while he continues to swing them in front of you. Gojo lets out a whistle as Ieiri cracks up. 

When the song ends, you all applaud as he takes a bow. Out of breath, he puts the mic down on the table and chugs the rest of the water in the glass before collapsing back into his seat. With the biggest grin, you exclaim, “That was so good, Kento! I’m so impressed!”

He gives you that same goofy grin as he slurs, “Was pretty good, huh? Should we take more shots?”

Before you even notice, Ieiri has lined up three glasses on the table and is pouring the Japanese whiskey. She delivers a shot to Nanami, who throws it back immediately. You and her cheers before drinking it. “Let’s do the next one,” she says, placing her hand on your back. “I know what song to do.”

You both belt out another pop hit from the 90s, singing and dancing while on the couch. Gojo chants along without a mic as Nanami bops to the music. Next, Gojo gives a dazzling performance of a classic 80s rock ballad, complete with all the theatrics, including an air guitar solo. After that, him and Nanami do a duet to an R&B song, which involves more hip swaying from Nanami directed at you. Gojo attempts a body roll towards Ieiri, who politely and firmly refuses before taking another shot. 

The room is buzzing with chaotic energy from sober Gojo and the rest of you drunkards. Ieiri’s composure begins to waver as she stands up to belt out Girls Just Wanna Have Fun with Gojo, who twirls her around the room until she promptly tells him to stop. “I’m going to yak if you keep spinning me, Satoru!”

They perform another song together, with Gojo hogging the mic as Ieiri tries to grab it from him, shrieking the lyrics loudly. “Shoko, there are other mics on the table! Stop trying to take mine!” he yells. She giggles, finally taking another mic to continue singing.

You and Nanami cuddle in the corner, unable to keep yourselves off each other, especially after seeing him sway his hips so many times tonight. As the other two sing, you and your boyfriend share sloppy kisses while hands roam over each other’s bodies. As you begin to unbutton his dress shirt from the top, you start kissing his neck, to which he lets out a loud moan. 

Finally being noticed by Gojo, he yells into the mic, “Hey, stop it you too! Gross!”

Ieiri lets out a shriek, also shouting into the mic, “Stop groping each other and sing another song with me!” she demands, beckoning you. 

Stumbling a bit, you get up to stand next to her, but Nanami’s grip is on your wrist, holding you in place. “No, don’t leave. Let’s kiss s’more.”

“Kento, I want to sing another song with my new best friend!” Ieiri whines. Gojo chimes in, “Me too! I want to duet with my new bestie!”

Your boyfriend grunts, eventually loosening his hold. With a big smile on your face, you walk towards your new friends and search through the catalog together, deciding on I Wanna Dance with Somebody. Nanami lets out a loud huff right before the music starts. They giggle behind their hands. “He’s so jealous. He wants to keep you all to himself.” 

The three of you prance around the room, singing, “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heatwith somebody!” 

Nanami scowls in the corner with his foot tapping to the beat. You break out of whatever line dance you’re doing to approach him, bopping your head, trying to coax a smile out of him. His expression is glum, but you see his lips twitch slightly. You take his arm, trying to convince him to join you, which he refuses at first. Not being able to resist much longer, he starts swaying with you as you lead him to the dance party a few feet away. Gojo and Ieiri rejoice as all four of you start shouting the last lines of the song. With everyone panting like they just ran a marathon, you all mutually decide to do one final round to end the night. Gojo, who seems perky as ever, chooses another pop hit. 

“Shoko, record me.” She retrieves her phone as Gojo points to the camera. “Utahime, this is for you, babe!” As he continues to serenade the camera, not even needing to look at the lyrics on screen, you hear Ieiri chuckle under her breath. “She’s going to hate this.”

You and Nanami sit together, fingers interlocked. He nuzzles his face into your neck as he asks, “What song should we sing, honey?” He hasn’t had any more shots since the first one, so his speech isn’t as slurred.

“I don’t know, what did you have in mind?”

“I like that one song. The one you’re always singing to in the shower,” he hums. 

“Ha, so you noticed how obsessed I am with that song right now?”

“It’s cute. I like hearing you sing it.” He rubs his nose into your neck.

Butterflies flutter in your belly. Even after dating for a few months now, you still get flustered by Nanami’s sweet words. “Okay, let’s do it.”

When they finish, you already have the code for the song entered. A smooth ballad starts playing as you and Nanami stand up, ready to duet together. Ieiri squeals, “I love this song!”

Nanami performs the first part with enthusiasm, causing Gojo to heckle, “This is too slow and serious!”

“Shut up, Satoru,” Nanami scolds before he continues.

You explain, “He wanted to this one because he likes hearing me sing it in the shower!”

Gojo smirks, holding his hands up in surrender. “Got it. I’ll say no more.” Then, he whispers something in Ieiri’s ear. Whatever he mentions makes the other woman smile, glancing at you with a knowing look. 

After Nanami finishes the chorus, it’s your turn. From the corner of your eye, you see Nanami gaze at you lovingly as you sing, moving along to the music. You turn towards him beaming as you sing the chorus together, in sync. When it’s done, you receive a standing ovation from the audience. Nanami pulls you in by the waist and kisses you on the lips, resulting in even louder applause.

“Okay lovebirds, you can go home now. I’ve kept you hostage long enough,” Gojo laughs. He points his thumb over to Ieiri. “This one probably wants to go out to another bar and drink more.”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s my birthday and you’re treating. I’m taking full advantage of this.”

As you all exit the karaoke bar, Gojo approaches Nanami, patting him on the back. As the two men converse, you ask Ieiri in a hushed voice, “What did Gojo whisper to you earlier when we were singing?”

She smiles softly, replying, “Oh, that. He said that Nanami is whipped.” 

“Hey, Nanami is the one who suggested that song, not me!”

Before you can protest any further, she says, “He also said that he’s happy for him.”

That catches you off guard. You pause, not knowing how to react. She laughs. “Kento is rather smitten by you, and I can see why. You two are great together.”

Flustered once again, you respond quietly, “That’s really nice. Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming out for my birthday. It’s always fun making a new friend.” She glances at Gojo and adds, “Expect a lot more invitations from this guy.”

You give her a big smile. “I can’t wait.”

~~~

Gojo wraps an arm around Nanami’s shoulders as they walk behind the other two, making their way out of the karaoke bar. “Thanks for coming out tonight, buddy. This was so much fun.”

“Thanks for the invite. It was a lot of fun,” Nanami admits, sober now.

“I really like her. Your girlfriend. She’s really nice and fun. Total opposite of you,” Gojo jokes. Nanami tries to shrug his friend’s arm off his shoulders to no avail. 

He continues. “In all seriousness, I’m really happy for you. You seem to be in a much better mood these days. I told you all you needed was to get laid!”

This time, Nanami successfully shoves him off as his friend laughs. Before he walks faster to be next to his girlfriend, Gojo utters, “You really deserve this, Kento. You deserve to be happy.”

He pauses to face him, looking at him with a small smile. His mind goes back to the conversation they had a week before he met the woman of his dreams. Nanami had voiced his concerns to Gojo about dating as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He made up all these rules in his head, forbidding himself to date in order to protect his heart. Of all the people, it was Gojo who was the voice of reason. It was his best friend who convinced him to go for it. And it ended up being the best decision of his life. 

Nanami reaches his hand towards Gojo’s shoulder and gives it a firm clasp. His friend’s eyes widen, even hidden behind the stylish sunglasses. “Thank you, Satoru.” He doesn’t elaborate further. He knows that Gojo understands. 

Gojo’s lip quivers, either from amusement or sentimentality. Either way, he returns to his signature smirk almost instantly. “Let’s hang out again soon, okay?”

They say their goodbyes, Gojo and Ieiri turning to walk to another bar as Nanami and his girl head to the train station. On the ride back, she rests her head against him with her eyes closed. They stay like this in silence, listening only to the sound of the train gliding through the tracks. He entwines his fingers with hers, giving her a little squeeze. As much fun as the night was, these are the little moments that bring him to a state of pure bliss. He’s happy. Truly, utterly, irrevocably happy.

And he deserves it.

Taglist: @moonmalice @bloombb @strawberry1042