#stsg x oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orivaa-kun · 11 months

Text

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 6: Not the Romance Type

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 chapter word count: 7k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

When Riku wakes up she’s alone in the bed and the sun pours in through the stretch of floor length windows opposite to it. She sits up and stretches, looking around to search for any trace of Geto or Gojo; but she only finds the room to be completely still. It has to be past 9 or so… Maybe they had some business to attend to early? Riku thinks. She rubs her eyes a bit, quickly turning her head towards the door when she suddenly notices it being pushed open.

One of the twins from yesterday appears, still in a suit, and with two of Riku’s big, pastel green suitcases from home, seemingly agonizing over pulling the heavy weight of them into the room, “Oh, hi! Sorry, let me help you with those!” Riku scrambles out of the bed, ignoring the sore muscles that protest in her body when she helps the girl move the suitcases. Riku takes a deep breath once the two of them finish moving the suitcases up against the wall next to the door of Geto’s extensive, walk in closet, “Thank you for getting these. You’re Nanako, right?”

Nanako narrows her eyes at Riku, looking her up and down with judgement as Riku doesn’t have on anything but Geto’s shirt, “Yes.” Nanako finally answers, still eyeing Riku suspiciously, “Are you sleeping with Mr. Geto for money?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

Riku’s mouth falls agape to Nanako’s question, unable to suppress the short laugh that exits it to the girl’s unexpected question, “Um, no. I have enough money.” Riku says, a bit disappointedly to the other’s judgement of her. Riku hates playing this sort of catty game with women in the yakuza syndicate; so she drops her nice act, resolving to turn away from Nanako and squat to her knees before opening one of her suitcases.

“Then why are you here when you have your own clan? Why won’t anybody say anything to me?”

Riku finds and grabs an ivory-colored loungewear set and a pair of underwear from her suitcase, pulling them out before zipping it back up, “That’s a… complicated story,” Riku turns to look back at Nanako with the last of her words, “and if Suguru hasn’t bothered to tell you why, then maybe he doesn’t trust you with that information.” Riku rises, already heading towards the bathroom so she can shower.

Nanako balls her hands into fists at her sides, starting to brew with anger, “You bitch…! You don’t know me! Mr. Geto trusts me!”

Riku sighs, pausing at the door to the bathroom to offer Nanako her last words before she enters, “Or, more likely, maybe he just wants to protect you. Ever stopped to think he doesn’t want to get you involved for that reason?” Riku doesn’t wait for Nanako’s answer and enters the bathroom before closing the door behind her.

Everyone was always hiding information from each other—that was the very nature of the yakuza syndicate. Riku knew how Nanako felt; it was a feeling of confusion and anxiety she’d experienced all throughout her life. She, like countless other women in the the syndicate, always had to find the answers for herself.

After her shower, Riku makes her way towards the kitchen, where a woman in a chef’s uniform and apron is wiping a few dishes dry with a rag. She turns when she sees Riku approach and smiles, “Good morning, Ms. Ozaki!”

So, there are Geto clan staff that don’t immediately hate her. Riku smiles back with relief, “Good morning! Do you happen to know where Suguru and Satoru are?”

“Mr. Geto is out with Mr. Gojo at the moment, but they should be back soon. Would you like to eat breakfast in the meantime? Mr. Geto said that you would be hungry, so I’ve prepared something.”

Riku feels her face heat up to the woman’s words, undeniably a bit ravenous from all the energy she’d expended yesterday—from work to… other activities, “That sounds great, yes—thank you!”

“Of course! Feel free to have a seat in the dining room and I’ll bring it to you. Anything to drink?”

“Hm… just a glass of water is fine.”

“Coming right up!”

Riku turns to stride over towards the dining room and takes a seat at the long table, briefly looking around and taking in the rock-integrated walls and décor that she hadn’t seen much of last night due to it being so dark. She can tell the vast room is obviously inspired by the mountain that Geto’s property sits on.

The chef is close behind with a tray and sets it down on the table in front of Riku before removing its metal cover. Steam and the delicious smell of syrup wafts up into the air and hits Riku’s nose, and her eyes widen to the beautifully dressed plate of three tall soufflé pancakes, two sunny side up eggs, and a thick bacon cut portion of pan-fried pork belly.

“This looks delicious!” Riku says, excited to dig in.

The woman steps back with a smile, “Enjoy, and I’ll bring you your water.”

“Thank you!” Riku picks up her utensils as the chef returns to the kitchen, happily cutting into one of the syrupy pancakes before popping a big slice of it into her mouth. She hums delightfully as she chews, of course it’s delicious.

Just then she’s distracted by the noise and sight of Gojo and Geto entering the room, both donned in black workout clothes and seemingly drenched with sweat.

“Good morning, Ri.” Geto speaks up first, hands on his sides as he approaches the dining table.

Riku slices a piece of pork belly and takes a bite, “Morning!”

Gojo is right by Geto’s side and pulls the lining of his muscle shirt up to his face to wipe his forehead of sweat, exposing his insanely toned abdomen in the process. He drops his shirt back down, “Morning, Ricchan!” He grins, smiling ear to ear.

“You two worked out?” Riku questions in between chews.

“We had some business to handle first, then went for a run.” Geto clarifies, “Enjoying breakfast?”

“Business…” Riku repeats the word, mostly to herself. She can’t deny she’s a little tired of the secrets, or, more so the two men withholding information from her. But she decides not to dig into it for now, “and yeah, I’m definitely stealing your chef.” She says with a small smile, taking another bite of her pancakes.

Gojo stands over Riku, bending close to the table, “Mm… that does look really good. Let me have a bite.”

Riku playfully glares at Gojo, pulling her plate on the table so that it’s further away from him and closer to her, “Get your own!”

“C’mon, Ri. Just one bite?” Gojo begs, bending over even further from behind Riku’s seat in the chair to rest his warm chin on her shoulder.

“One bite…” she emphasizes, cutting another slice of a giant, fluffy pancake before raising it with her fork and poking it in front of Gojo’s mouth.

Gojo instead steals the entire, much larger remaining part of the pancake from Riku’s plate, standing upright to scarf down the whole thing in a few bites with a childish chuckle, “Mmf… That is delicious!”

Riku’s jaw drops in horror, looking between her plate that is now empty of pancakes and the child of a man that continues to grin over her, “Hey…! What the hell, Satoru?! Couldn’t you have just gotten your own??”

He lifts his shirt and reveals his eight-pack again, slapping his hand over it, “Nah, gotta maintain my boyish figure, babe. Just wanted a little bite.”

Riku grumbles as she cuts into her eggs, “Some fucking bite…”

The chef returns with a circular tray that has Riku’s water, and two green smoothies that Gojo and Geto retrieve from her before she reaches the table and gives Riku her drink. She heads back to the kitchen.

As Gojo nearly downs his entire smoothie, Geto bends over a bit to inspect Riku’s cheek. He uses his free hand to tuck her shower-damp curls behind her ear, the backs of his fingers lightly brushing over the now smooth side of her face that only has a few faint spots of purple, “Your cheek is looking good… You got some good sleep, huh?” He takes a small sip of his drink, grin just barely playing at the corners of his mouth.

Gojo laughs lowly, “Yeah, we even came back after handling business to see if you wanted to run with us, but you were knocked out.”

Riku blushes, resolving to occupy herself with taking a sip of water.

Still bent at the waist and close beside her, Geto presses his lips near Riku’s ear and speaks just above a whisper, “Feeling okay, beautiful? Were we too rough with you?”

She nearly chokes on her water, but quickly clears her throat and sets her glass down, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“That you are.” Geto stands back up and takes a long swig of his smoothie, grinning to Riku’s reaction.

“Boo… get a better pickup line.” Riku retorts with an eye roll, then takes another bite of her food.

“But you’re sore, right?” Gojo asks plainly, hardly any tact as he sits down in the seat beside Riku’s. He rests his glass on the table and swiftly rubs his hand up her thigh, eyes carefully watching how she would respond to his touch.

Riku can feel his fingers through the thin fabric and sits up when Gojo leans in close to her face with cool blue eyes. She gulps when his hand rubs all the way up the inside of her leg to rest on her crotch; she takes a slow, steadying breath before responding, “Yes.” She admits near quietly, eyes darting over to the chef who had just barely left the room, then back to Gojo.

“Good.” Gojo pulls Riku in with his hand at the back of her head for a heated, lewd kiss, then breaks it just as quick with a gentle tug at the roots of her hair—a familiar heat in his gaze, “Hope you think about how good I fucked you every time you take a step today.” He murmurs, long fingers flirting with the fabric between Riku’s legs.

Riku slaps Gojo’s hand away and refocuses on her pork belly, shaking her head a bit, “You two are… insatiable hornballs.”

Both Gojo and Geto chuckle in unison to this, Geto finally walking around the table to lower onto the seat across from Riku, “That’s funny coming from you, Ri. You’re pretty nasty, yourself, you know.”

She gasps, then narrows her eyes at Geto, who simply smirks and crosses his arms over his chest, “Shut up, shit-bangs—I am not!”

“Mhm. Throwing insults ‘cause you can’t fight the truth, hm?” Geto laughs lightly.

The trio suddenly pauses and turns towards a new person entering the room in a hurry. The man wears a black suit similar to Nanako’s uniform from earlier, but storms in with an exasperated, terror-ridden expression on his face. Riku recalls him from yesterday—he was the man who’d escorted her from the drug manufacturing warehouse beneath Geto’s property. Kei? The mood in the room instantly shifts due to the urgency his demeanor.

“Mr. Geto…!” Kei raises a white letter in his hand as he hastily strides over to the table.

“This for me?” Geto quirks a brow in question.

“No… it’s for her.” Kei says, eyes moving to Riku in a bit of horror.

Kei approaches Riku and passes the letter to her, which she receives with a slightly shaky hand—a little frightened by the man’s demeanor. She reads the envelope and the messily written words in black ink on its cover: ‘TO: RIKU,’ and ‘FROM: TOJI.’

She shudders, breath exiting her body and taking any of her warmth with it. Her face freezes as she holds the envelope in front of her eyes, “It’s… it’s from Toji.” She says, and Gojo leans in to look at the letter, not fearful but equally confused as Riku.

“Toji?! Who the hell did you get this letter from, Kei?!” Geto rises from his chair, tone demanding.

“I found it! I-I swear, sir! On my life.” He confesses, hands raised in surrender, “It was left right outside of the onsen’s entrance.”

“By who?!” Geto asks, clearly trying to restrain his anger.

“We don’t know because the cameras were wiped clean, but we’re scrubbing the whole property and questioning onsen staff and attendees as we speak.”

Geto presses the pads of his fingers to his temples, visibly enraged. He somehow keeps his tone calm regardless, “You’re telling me… both the main and backup cameras were wiped? Whoever is responsible for neglecting or outright betraying their security post is getting fucking killed by me personally, do you understand me??” He spits with a hellish look in his eyes, dropping his hands to his sides to ball them into fists.

Kei drops to his knees with a fearful, pained look in his eyes, shriveling down into a dogeza bow to express his deepest apologies, “Yes, sir! I’m so sorry!”

“If you’re sorry, then get to fucking work. And please know I’ll be joining you to find the culprit soon.” Geto says darkly and Kei quickly rises and departs, not even a hint of Geto’s usual calm, cool, and collected demeanor in his expression.

And Riku would’ve been frightened by Geto’s anger if she wasn’t holding Toji’s letter in front of her face. Hesitantly, she shakes the envelope to make sure there isn’t anything in it. Nothing. Hands gently fidgeting, Riku tears open its paper with her fingers. Both Gojo and Geto look to her as she stares at the heart shaped, Valentine-themed card and flips it open to read its contents.

“Hey pretty,

Did you know that dancing is quite similar to fighting? We have a lot in common, Riku. Let’s have our first date where our worlds collide.

See you there.

-Toji”

After she finishes, Gojo swipes the card from Riku’s hands to read it himself, carefully inspecting the letter with his eyes, “Now the asshole is sending messages? What the fuck does that mean?”

Geto sits back down at the table, visibly annoyed by this entire situation, “I don’t know… ‘where our worlds collide,’ fighting and dancing, Ri—does any of this make sense to you?”

“N-no…” Riku stutters out, fear beginning to overcome her body. Toji is looking for me?! She takes a shaky, deep breath, trying to calm herself, “I mean, both fighting and dancing require focus, precision, strength, and balance…”

“So, in short, we need to keep her away from any place that involves any of those things.” Gojo concludes, tossing the flimsy card across the table so Geto can take a look at it.

Geto picks it up, quickly eyeing its contents, “That’s probably the best bet.” He glances up from the card to meet Riku’s gaze, “So that means no working at the dance studio for you today, or for a while, for that matter.”

Riku opens her mouth, about to protest, but decides against it after seeing the unmoving, cold and hard look in Geto’s eyes, “Okay.” It’s not like she wants to get taken or abducted by Toji, either.

“I’ll call Nanami to let him know.” Gojo announces, pulling out his phone. He pauses to stare into space for a fraction of a second until he thinks of something, suddenly snapping his eyes back to Riku, “Babe, you ever been to Onjuku beach?”

“Um, yeah; used to go all the time when I was a teenager,” Riku recalls—its only an hour and a half drive outside of Tokyo, if she remembers correctly, “why do you ask?”

“While Suguru addresses the situation here, you’ll come with me to the beach for a few hours. That way I can do some club business and we can get you out of Tokyo for a while.”

Riku nods a few times, sort of curious to what ‘club business’ means, but her body is too busy shaking with anxiety. She wants to focus on her appreciation for how quickly Gojo and Geto had adjusted to her evolving predicament with Toji, but all she can think about is the fact that she’s being hunted. She stares down at her plate tight-lipped with her eyebrows knit together, no longer hungry.

Gojo breaks Riku’s train of thought when he leans close to her and turns her chin so that she looks up at him, “Hey. I’ll take you somewhere nice while we’re out, so don’t get so nervous, Ricchan.” He slowly presses a peck to her lips, distracting her from her own thoughts, “And didn’t you know? I’m the strongest, babe—you’re safe with me.” He flashes her a cocky smile.

Riku emerges from the guest bedroom in a white bikini and a backless beach coverup dress, making her way to the main living room in Geto’s property where Gojo waits for her. She finds him typing something into his phone when she approaches, the man now fitted in a deep mustard-colored linen shirt and white shorts with identical, tan palm tree designs all over it. His black sun spectacles sit low on his nose.

He looks up, “Mm… you look hot.” He stands to his feet and closes most of the space between them. Riku allows her eyes to flutter shut, expecting the man to kiss her lips. He presses his lips to her neck instead, hand slipping around her waist and down her back to squeeze her lightly clothed ass.

Riku hums to Gojo’s touch, wondering why the man has been so clingy today. Was it just the sex? Or is this just how he really is? “Did Suguru leave already?” She asks.

Gojo stands up tall after he kisses Riku, hand remaining on her ass, “Yeah, he just left. No word on the security camera-hacking, Toji letter-delivering culprit, yet.” He lifts a brow curiously, “Why? You miss him or something?”

“No! Just curious, ‘s all.”

Gojo’s hand moves up to the exposed skin at the small of Riku’s back, “You better not, ‘cause you’re all mine today.” He smirks.

Riku responds confidently, “Actually, I belong to myself—just spending the day with you. Wait, ew, are you the possessive type?”

“It’s not possessive if it’s the truth, babe…” Gojo trails off with a grin and abruptly tugs Riku close, rubbing both his hands up her waist just the way she likes.

Riku’s cheeks redden to this, body easily giving in to Gojo’s touch. She feels her skin warm up and is especially sensitive when he kneads her breasts through the thin fabric of her bikini and coverup dress, “Hah…” Riku pants out softly as she feels her abdomen fill with heat.

Gojo moves close to her ear when he lowly coos his next words, “Why wouldn’t this body be mine? It does exactly what I tell it to.” One of his hands tread temptingly low beneath her stomach and towards the lining of her bikini, “And you’re already getting wet, aren’t you?

Riku lightly pushes Gojo away, cheeks still tinged bright red, “Are we going to the beach or what?”

Gojo chuckles, honestly amused by Riku, “Yeah, Ricchan. Let’s head to the garage.” He retrieves her hand, interlocking their fingers together before leading her along down the hallway. The two of them eventually reach an elevator, to which Gojo punches the call button with his free hand.

“So, what’s on the Onjuku beach business agenda for today?” Riku asks, easing her hand out of the other’s hold as they wait for the elevator.

“That’s a surprise, for now…” Gojo basically sings the words, “but it’s all club business, if that gives you any hint.” The elevator chimes and its doors open; the two of them step in and Gojo hits the ‘G2’ button.

“What’s this club business that you keep mentioning?”

Gojo pauses for a moment, brows furrowed together as he looks over at Riku. His eyes then widen with genuine surprise, realizing Riku was not joking with her words, “Oh, babe,” he grins in a way that shows that he nearly feels bad for her, “you don’t know what kind of business my clan runs, do you?” He laughs a little and pats the top of her head, “Then again, that’s probably for the best with how troublesome you are.” His smile fades a bit, and his eyes lock on to Riku’s, a sort of apologetic look in his eyes as he brushes back a loose strand of her hair with his fingers, “Hm. Your family and Nanamin have been protecting you from a world that you don’t even know about…”

Riku is confused, “A world I don’t know…? What are you talking about?” The elevator doors chime open when they reach the garage floor, and Riku follows Gojo along to a navy blue, convertible 1970 Ferrari Daytona Spyder.

Gojo opens the passenger door for Riku, holding her hand as she steps down into the low sportscar, “First, tell me what you think you know about my clan.” He closes the door behind her once she’s in and maneuvers around the car before slipping into the front seat and turning his key in the old model car’s ignition. The engine roars to life and Gojo is quick to pull out of the parking lot, wheels screeching on the pavement as they pass the front gates, and the mountains surrounding Geto’s property come into view.

Riku is a bit alarmed to Gojo’s speed on the road, but tries to keep her cool, “Um, well, I mean you’re the strongest because you’re good at fighting, do you come from a strong line of fighters in your family or something?”

Gojo shakes his head, “I mean, yes, but not exactly, babe,” he briefly glances over at Riku, turning the wheel a bit sharply to one of the road’s curves, “Any other guesses?”

“Hm… Is it a fighting ring?”

“Bingo.” Gojo frees a hand from the wheel to cock his index finger in Riku’s direction like a gun, “But, there’s a little more to it than that. My clan’s business may consist of an underground MMA ring, but the real money maker is the gambling that happens at my fight clubs around Tokyo.”

Riku slowly nods to herself then freezes, “Wait, then why would my family and Kento hide this from me? No offense, but it all seems pretty normal and makes perfect sense.” She looks over at the white haired man who carelessly smiles as he speeds over the empty backroads in the mountains.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ricchan—my fight clubs are anything but normal. This is where clans gamble their families’ lives and all their money, and where sick yakuza fucks come to indulge in all the evil shit they can’t do in the daylight.”

“Oh, so they’re that type of club.” Riku rests her head back on the tan leather headrest, expression suddenly twisting with curiosity, “Wait, so Ken has been to your fight club? Why?”

“Yeah, quite a few times, actually, before he started working for your family. It’s an easy way for bodyguards like him to get quick money. There’s bars and poker tables as well, so you don’t necessarily need to be a fighter to get in—he’s really good at the game, too.”

Riku furrows her brows, unsure of how to take this information. She can’t help but wonder why she’d been kept in the dark so long regarding the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate’s strongest business… Even if her family wouldn’t allow her to visit any of Gojo’s fight clubs, what is the point of keeping this a secret from her and so many others? Is the underground fighting and gambling business that dark? Riku stares out at the road before them, “I can’t believe I didn’t know…”

Gojo reaches over to cup Riku’s cheek, “Don’t sweat it, Ricchan, just means you got people looking out for you. It’s a good thing, really. A pretty girl like you doesn’t belong in a nasty place like that.”

“I can hold my own!”

Laughing in unabashed disbelief, Gojo allows his hand to fall from Riku’s check and back to his lap, “Is that right?”

“Yeah, I’m a pretty good shot, you know.” Riku notes, pointing her index in the air matter-of-factly.

“Really?” Gojo raises his brows, “Who taught you to shoot?”

Riku takes a moment to respond, as she kind of hates how much the man’s name keeps coming up in conversation, “…Kento.”

“Nanamin? You might actually be a decent shooter, then.” Gojo turns to look at Riku with a teasing grin, “You two are pretty close, hm?”

Riku releases an exasperated sigh, “Ugh, please stop with that. We’re just friends.” She crosses her arms over her chest, already tired of this new direction in their conversation—especially as she’d just talked about the same with Geto yesterday.

“But he wants to be more.” Gojo focuses back on the road.

Riku is quiet for a few seconds, then completely shifts the subject, “So if this fight club of yours is so dangerous of a place that people have been hiding it from me and don’t want me to go, then where are we going now?”

Gojo laughs heartily, glancing at Riku once more, “You really hate talking about personal stuff, don’t you?” His laugh fades into a chuckle and he reaches over to lightly rub his hand over the exposed skin of her thigh that’s made visible by the cut in her coverup dress, “Guess I’ll just have to get you open up then.” Gojo turns his attention back to the road, the ocean beginning to come into view off to the side of the mountains, “Fight club business isn’t limited to inside of the fight club, babe. I have to check in with every part of my clan and team that makes this shit possible. So, we’re meeting with our food and beverage director Iwai to do a tasting of some new drinks and dishes he’s bringing into the club, and then we’re dropping by the gym to check out a few of this week’s fighters and so I can do some admin work. It’s miniscule, but it’s shit I’ve been meaning to do.”

“Toji really threw a wrench in all of our work plans, huh?”

“You can say that again.” Gojo sighs, raking a hand through his white hair; he looks over at Riku, “You’ve been taking things well, though, considering.”

“Well, not exactly my first time getting caught up in a less-than-ideal situation… Just a little scarier when the biggest yakuza asshole in Tokyo is chasing you around the city.” Riku looks out the window, watching as they speed past signs with the word ‘CHIBA’ plastered over them. They were finally out of Tokyo, and amidst the vast nature of the mountains they drove through, Riku spots a small town in the near countryside. They already begin to pass a few quaint shops.

Gojo looks in the distance, eyes still focused on the road, “Don’t worry, Ricchan. I’ll get him—for both of us,” Riku’s eyes move to Gojo’s tight grip on the steering wheel, not missing how his knuckles turn white as he speaks. He clears his throat and immediately turns his tone brighter, “but we can’t let Toji ruin our beach date today—our first stop is already coming up…!”

“Really? Close to here?” Riku looks around, still only primarily seeing a shop here and there every couple of hundred meters in the mountains around them.

“Mhm.” Gojo says with a smirk and reduces speed before he turns the car onto a narrower road. In less than a minute of driving down the path, the trees open up and clear into a beautiful clifftop view—at least 50 meters above the beach and ocean below. There’s a lot right on the edge of the cliff, and a small, wooden café that sits just before it. The entire plot of mountaintop is kissed by the late morning sunlight, and Riku can’t help but think it’s a picture-perfect sight. There’s only a few cars littered around the lot, so the shop isn’t too busy, either.

Riku blinks a few times, and her mouth falls agape, “Oh my god, this view is… beyond amazing! How the hell did you find this place?” She turns to Gojo with an honest, delighted smile.

Gojo pulls into the lot, then presses his index to his lips and winks at Riku from behind his sunglasses, “It’s a secret.” Gojo parks the car in a space that’s perfectly situated before the ocean view and steps out to open Riku’s door for her, “Kidding, just have a good eye for finding places like this.” He holds his hand out to her.

Riku takes it as she steps out of the car and makes a noise of surprise when Gojo suddenly tugs her into his side. He keeps Riku locked there with his toned arm around her waist as they approach the small ‘TO-GO’ labeled window at the front of the café. The two stop a meter back from the window and Riku’s eyes dart over to the menu that’s beside it, a pair of girls off to the side of them snapping pictures of the ocean view as they wait for their drink order.

“What do you want, Ricchan?”

“Ohh I get to choose what I want today? Lucky me!” Riku cheers dramatically, clearly poking fun at Gojo and his need to control everything.

Gojo sighs, “And here I was thinking you’d turned over a new leaf. Nope, still a brat, even after last night,” he pulls Riku from his side to directly in front of him so that her back presses flush against his front and bends his head down to whisper into her ear, “you’re gonna pay for that later, beautiful.”

Riku’s cheeks redden to Gojo’s whispered words and something jolts excitedly in her at the sound of them. She resolves to bite her tongue inside of her mouth, keeping her eyes locked on the café menu as Gojo walks them up in front of it.

“Now, do you know what you want?” Gojo asks, the tall man easily stretching his neck up to rest his chin on the top of Riku’s head.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Hey there!” Gojo calls out to the woman just behind the window, and Riku can hear the smile in his voice.

The woman, wearing a pink apron, slides open the service window with a smile, “Hi! Can I help you two?”

“Yes, can I get a medium strawberry cheesecake frap and…” Gojo adjusts his arms around Riku, wrapping and gently squeezing them around her stomach.

Riku blushes to the intimacy of Gojo’s movements, not really used to nor a big fan of PDA, “Um, can I please have a small cold brew with a dash of sweet cream? Thank you!”

The woman nods, “Sure thing! Any donuts for you all?”

“Oh shit, right, the homemade donuts here are amazing, Ri. Let’s get one glazed and one cinnamon sugar.”

“One glazed and one cinnamon, coming right up! That’s…” The woman taps at a tablet behind the window, “1,400 yen.”

Gojo releases Riku from his grasp to pull out his wallet, tugging out and offering the woman a 10,000 yen bill, “Keep the change.”

The woman takes the bill with widened eyes, “Wow… thank you so much! Your order will be out in a few minutes!” She beams.

“Thanks.” Gojo turns to Riku, “I’m gonna use the bathroom inside. Grab our drinks and donuts for us, Ricchan—yeah?” He winks at her, already beginning to stride to the store entrance.

Riku turns once Gojo is inside the store, taking a deep breath as she looked over the cliff’s steep drop, the surrounding mountains, and the vast ocean below. She smells the salt water in the air, and appreciates the steady, rhythmic sound of the waves crashing into the shore. The sun feels warm on her skin, and she allows her eyes to shut at the sensation until she hears someone speak beside her.

“Excuse me, miss? Your boyfriend is so cute!”

Riku opens her eyes once more and turns to the girls waiting on their drinks, both wearing matching pink t-shirts and jean shorts over their bathing suits. Riku laughs a bit shyly, “Oh, he’s not my bo—”

“Yeah, you two look so good together!” The other girl interrupts Riku before she can finish her sentence.

“…Thanks.” Riku sighs the word out, curving one side of her mouth up into a half-smile. What’s the use of explaining anyways? With how clingy Gojo had been, of course they looked like they were together.

Both the two girls’ and Riku and Gojo’s orders come out at once, and Riku waves them off as they retreat back to their truck with their drinks. Riku bends at the waist to reach over the counter, beginning to pick up the tray with her and Gojo’s drinks in them with one hand, and the small bag of donuts in her other hand when a new person speaks up from behind her, “Hey, sexy. Really liked it better when you were bent over.”

Riku spins around on her heels, a mortified look on her face. Her jaw drops to the dark-haired, skinny man’s words, rendered speechless by his audacity. She thinks he’s no more than an inch or a few centimeters taller than Riku—who is around 168 cm or 5’6”.

“Can I get your number?” He grins disgustingly, beginning to step closer until a hand wraps around and grasps the curve of Riku’s hip.

“She’s taken, shitstain.” Gojo spits the words from Riku’s side, his tone venomous; he precipitously lets her go to grab the shorter man by his shirt and tower over him, “So say another word to her and I’ll snap your motherfucking neck.”

“Satoru, don’t!” Riku protests.

“S-s-sorry, man! I didn’t know!” The man apologizes in a shaky voice, immediately stumbling and scurrying back to his car when Gojo grudgingly lets him go.

Gojo shakes his head to himself, a pissed expression on his face as he stands back upright, “You okay, Ri?”

“Yeah, fine.” Riku shakes her head as well, but mostly to erase the thought of the strange man’s disgusting words from her mind. She holds the drink tray out in front of Gojo, “Shit like that happens to girls all the time, unfortunately. But that doesn’t mean you should snap anybody’s neck!”

Satoru ignored the last of Riku’s words and picks up his strawberry cheesecake frap before taking a long sip, slightly relaxing at the taste of it, “Mm, that’s sweet. But, not as sweet as this…” He lowers himself just enough to press his lips to Riku’s, quickly deepening their kiss into a more passionate one.

Gojo holds the back of Riku’s head, tongue skillfully exploring her mouth; and Riku can taste the flavor of strawberries and fresh whipped cream from his kiss. Riku blushes harder when she feels eyes on them and is the one to break their kiss, “That was corny.” She giggles.

“But it made you laugh.” Gojo lifts his pointer from his cup to poke in Riku’s direction, a smile on his face.

“Fair enough.” Riku mirrors Gojo’s smile.

Back at the car, Gojo and Riku sip on their drinks from inside the car, its convertible top now retracted so the sun spills down on them.

“My god, this view is everything... I have to admit, Satoru, this was a great idea.” Riku smiles, still taking in the view. Her eyes follow the small dot of a surfer gliding over the waves down below at the shore, and a cool breeze sweeps by them, the mix of the scent of seawater and the citrus notes of Gojo’s cologne pleasantly hitting her nose. She glances over to Gojo in the driver’s seat with his drink, “Let me taste yours.” Riku asks, putting her iced cold brew down into one of the cup holders in the center of the console.

Gojo hums an affirmative grunt, busy taking a huge bite from his cinnamon sugar donut when he pokes the straw of his frap in Riku’s direction.

Riku makes a little show of it, locking eyes with Gojo as she pokes her tongue out, lowers her mouth down on, and wraps her lips around the length of the straw. She takes a sip, then slowly pulls her lips off the straw.

Gojo ceases in his chewing to this and gulps, eyes widening just slightly to Riku’s casually lewd actions and the corners of his mouth rising into a grin, “You little freak…” he trails off, the tone of his voice low, husky, and dripping with excitement, “you’re gonna drive me crazy.” Gojo looks at Riku with unabashed interest, dropping the remaining piece of his donut back into its paper bag before rubbing his cinnamon sugar-covered thumb over her plump lips. He chuckles when Riku takes the digit into her mouth, sitting up in his seat and biting his lip when she shamelessly sucks the sweetness from his thumb, “Ricchan, you’re so good when you want to be.”

Riku releases Gojo’s finger from her lips with a light laugh, tucking a few curls behind her ear, “You have a pretty big sweet tooth, don’t you?”

“Mhm, especially if those lips of yours are included in that.” Gojo smirks, pushing his black sunglasses up the bridge of his nose with the back of his wrist when the sun shines brighter.

“Anything else I should know about your tastes?” Riku asks; they were going on a tasting later, after all.

“Hm, well I generally like everything sweet, I hate black olives, and I don’t like to drink.”

“You don’t drink?” The last bit is surprising to Riku, as pretty much all the yakuza she knows drinks.

“Not often, which is part of the reason why it’s useful for me to bring a spoiled-rotten yakuza princess like you along to a food and rice wine tasting.” He lightly boops her nose with his index, “You like sake, right?”

“Love it. My uncle’s quite the afficionado, too, so I learned a lot from him.”

“See? Figures.” Gojo says before taking another sip of his frap, voice snarky.

“What figures?” Riku challenges, just barely narrowing her eyes at Gojo.

“Rich yakuza girls are all the same. All you all like to do is drink wine and iced coffee, eat expensive seafood and steak, shop designer clothes and streetwear, and go to pilates with your friends.”

Riku rolls her eyes, “That what you and Suguru like to tell yourselves?? First of all, I don’t do pilates; and second of all, at least I’m not a big, beefy yakuza guy that barely fits in a suit and has the taste palate of a literal fucking toddler!”

Gojo laughs, “Notice how you only refuted one of those things, though?”

“Shut the fuck up, Satoru!” Riku can’t help but laugh the words out and playfully jabs at Gojo.

He laughs along, easily catching each of Riku’s attempted punches with one of his hands before they reach his torso. He holds his frap up with his other, continuing to sip on it, “But, you do have the guts to talk back to, spit on, and kick a high rank yakuza in the nuts—and that takes a lot of balls, so I’ll give you that. Can’t say I’ve ever met a yakuza princess, let alone woman like you in that respect.”

“You and this ‘princess’ thing…” Riku sighs as she takes a long sip of her cold brew, then puts it down, “you’re not gonna let it go, huh?”

“Not ‘til you open up to me, babe!” Gojo declares, nearing the end of his frap as his sips turn into loud slurps of mostly air from his straw.

“Ugh.”

“What, you don’t trust me, Ricchan? You know I’ve been keeping you safe these past few days…”

Riku turns away from Gojo, looking out at the ocean view again, “That’s different. Talking about my family’s past or my personal life isn’t entertaining to anybody—especially not me.”

“May not be entertaining, but it is more than worth hearing if it means getting to know you, Riku.” Gojo says smoothly, expression completely serious. He takes his sunglasses off, this time leaning close to softly kiss her cheek.

The uncharacteristically gentle and comforting nature of Gojo’s kiss catches Riku by surprise, and it makes something swell in her chest. It’s a feeling she isn’t used to experiencing and honestly makes her a bit uncomfortable as she’s taught herself to avoid it.

Gojo puts his cup down, taking Riku’s face in both of his hands to kiss her lips the same way, but pauses, backing up just enough to read Riku’s visage with furrowed brows, “Did I do something wrong? You’re shaking, Ri.” His hands smooth down to gently grasp her shoulders.

Riku steadies herself with a deep breath, in and out, “No, you didn’t. I just…” she trails off, never finishing her sentence, “sorry.” Riku shrugs out of Gojo’s grasp, folding her arms across her chest and closing herself up.

Gojo smiles apologetically, “Don’t apologize, Ricchan. I’ve been kissing and touching you a lot today, haven’t I? Is it too much?”

Riku nods, “Yeah…” She herself can’t tell if it’s the amount of his affection or the shift in kind of his affection that’s caused her to tremble.

Gojo remains close to Riku, his face still only a few centimeters away from her, “I’ll take it easy on you; but, to compromise, can you hold my hand at least? Can you do that for me, Ri?” He offers his hand in the small space between them. Gojo’s piercing, cerulean eyes study Riku’s every move and expression. Why does he need to constantly touch her so badly, anyways?

Riku nods mutely, placing her hand in Gojo’s and allowing him to interlock their fingers. Though there’s undeniably a part of her that wants to absorb each and every aspect of Gojo’s touch, as it feels so good, another part of her holds her back. His touch is addictive; and she doesn’t want to emotionally rely on anyone – neither Gojo nor Geto – because that means relinquishing her power to either or both of the men. Riku begins to think that this is where Gojo’s and Geto’s real power lies—not merely in their physical strength or the high performance of their underground businesses, but more so in their ability to lead and influence hundreds of others to do what they want. If they’re masters of controlling dangerous people, then what does that mean for Riku?

“I promise I won’t hurt you, Ricchan.”

Riku isn’t sure if she believes the words, and realizes that after a few short days, she’s already gotten herself tangled up with this man. Even at this point, she can’t imagine how difficult it would be to unravel it from him, if she wants to.

chapter endnotes: next chapter will drop a week from today!

15 notes · View notes

jujutsumafiosohusbandos · 2 years

Text

7 December 1998

Chapter : 1/2

Rating : Mature

Fandom : Jujutsu Kaisen

Archive Warning : Graphic Depictions Of Viol3nce, Major Character D3ath, Underag3

Relationships : Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Getou Suguru & Gojo Satoru & Ieiri Shoko, Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru/Ieiri Shoko, Gojo Satoru/Zenin Naoya, one-sided Ieiri Shoko/Zenin Naoya, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Characters : Gojo Satoru

Additional Tags : DEAD DOVE - DO NOT EAT (please click the archive link for an in-depth list of tags and trigger warnings!)

Summary : He rolls over and shoves back the edge of the curtain to stare bleary-eyed at the world beyond his room. The sparkling carpet of snow is blindingly bright, and he quickly drops the curtain and rolls back over to stare at the darkness as sparks burst in his eyes.

His door creaks as it opens - squeaky hinges make it difficult for anyone to sneak up on him - and he hears the slap of bare feet running across cold hardwood, and -

“Satoru! Satoru, it’s your birthday!”

or Satoru Gojo has a birthday, of sorts.

#sashisu #geto suguru #satoru gojo #shoko ieiri #jujutsu kaisen #stsg #satosugu #satoshoko #oc x oc #zenin naoya #the 90's #alternate universe #jjk fanfic #dead dove do not eat #murder husbands and special friends

4 notes · View notes

vennilavee · 5 months

Text

Petrichor

pairing: stsg, geto x reader, gojo x reader, stsg x reader

summary: In the middle of the lush forest, there sits a lonely house on a hill. On a dark and rainy night, you find your way to the house and it's inhabitants while running away from a deep, dark secret that you refuse to confront. Little do you know that they welcome you with open arms because they want you in a way that you’ve never been wanted before. It’s so easy to succumb to the darkness once you’ve been invited in…

warnings: this is meant to be a horror fic so please heed with caution - vampire geto, ghost gojo, smut, biting, drinking of blood, bloodplay, unreliable narrators, murder, death and dying, suicide, everyone is a little freaky here including oc, yandere behaviors (i think??)

word count: 15k

a/n: meant to be written for spooky season in october...happy new year do not perceive me. HUGE thank you to @lovenona @libroparaiso @hoennislands for reading large chunks of this fic before i posted it, and @lovenona for the painting for the fic banner! i appreciate u<3

To add to an already terrible day, heavy and dark storm clouds cover the expanse of the sky before splitting open. Rain follows the split seam, pelting down and landing on your car before being met with your windshield wipers.

It’s a good thing you had your tires replaced recently, you think distractedly while tightening your grip on the wheel.

The rumble of your car’s engine is the only noise you hear as you zip through the barely there road in the forest. There are no cars on this road. There are no lights, save for the high beams bursting from your car.

It feels as if you are going in circles, despite the GPS telling you that you are on the right path. You can barely see five feet ahead of you as the rain begins to downpour. You hate driving in storms.

Perhaps you should pull over, rather than potentially wrap your car around a tree while trying to get out of this storm. Can you beat it? Can you beat the ominous clap of thunder and the bright streak of lightning?

In the distance, you hear the winds picking up speed as the towering trees sway. The last thing you need is to die because a tree fell on you.

All you were trying to do was clear your head with a nice, soothing drive after what can only be described as the worst week of your life. The weather forecast didn’t include heavy rain with zero visibility today. You must just be incredibly lucky.

Driving in this weather will surely result in your premature death. You make a split second decision and pull over to the side of the road, glancing at the umbrella in your passenger seat.

You scoff, stepping out into the darkness and further into the belly of the forest.

Night has fully draped over the forest and yet, the rain has not relented. You must have been walking, following your GPS for hours now. And yet, it seems as if you continue to walk further and further away from the road.

You are drenched and shivering, possibly looking like a drowned animal as you trek through the mud and fallen branches. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to return to your car. There is no way to tell what direction it’s in anyway.

So you continue on, shivering with the hood of your jacket covering your head and cursing the skies for leaving you stranded in this endless storm. Your phone vibrates with weather alerts indicating that you should seek shelter due to extreme flooding.

How ironic.

Your umbrella is long gone, proving to be useless with the force of the rain and the wind. You are completely alone in the lush, green forest. Perhaps you stop and appreciate the scent of petrichor if you weren’t so stuck and at the mercy of the unseen forces from above.

You don’t know how much you endure the walk, but you see something in the distance. Something warm, something like the light.

A tall, dark house sits on a hill barely visible with the darkness of the night. But you can clearly see the warmth of the lights that emanate from inside the house.

It feels like a reprieve, a lighthouse as you are lost at sea. So you run towards the warmth.

The house is more of a mansion, you realize as you stand in front of the ornate, mahogany door. Green vines twist around the door as if to protect the house from any trespassers. They seem to pulsate when you touch them, hissing at you in an attempt to send you away.

You shiver again.

Lilies and red roses line the entryway to the front door. Despite the remote location of this strange mansion, clearly someone maintains the upkeep of it.

You’ve never seen a viridian so vibrant. It’s hard to take your eyes away from it, tracing the way drops fall from the vines onto the stark white lilies before dripping onto the meticulously carved stone pathway.

The rain pours down on you heavily, and it rolls off of your trembling shoulders. It feels dry here, like the sun is gently peering out. This strange mansion must be an oasis, or a safe haven for those lost in the woods.

You knock on the door impatiently, hoping that someone, anyone, can save you from the storm. A crack of thunder splits your ears and you jump, knocking again.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter under your breath, “Please, it’s freezing-”

The magnificent door creaks loudly before being pulled open dramatically, only to reveal a tall, white haired man with striking and absurdly blue eyes.

You can’t look directly at him for too long. You think you’ll be blinded.

“How annoying,” he drawls, “Annoying and impatient.”

“My car broke down,” you interrupt, your teeth chattering, “Please, I’m so cold-”

“Oh?” he looks you up and down several times over with an infuriating, smug grin on his stupidly handsome face.

“Can you please assess whether I’m a thief or a murderer or anything equally as dramatic while I’m inside?” you say, glaring at him, “I’ve been walking for hours, please let me in until the storm passes over. I’m begging you.”

“You’re lucky you’re so charming when you beg,” he says, waving you in.

Warmth immediately engulfs you and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Don’t thank me just yet. Didn’t you call for help?”

“My phone has no service,” you reply easily, staring him right in the eye.

“No service, What a shame. I suppose it cannot be helped,” he shrugs, “Didn’t you hear? This storm is supposed to last several days. You must be a fool for driving through this.”

“I guess so-”

“Especially in the forest. You never know what’s lurking around here.”

His smile fades and he looks at you pointedly, as if he’s looking straight through you. His gaze unnerves you but still, it takes you half a second to decide you’re staying here in the dry warmth.

Besides, it’s not like you have anywhere to go.

“Gojo Satoru,” he says simply and begins walking away from you. Does he care to know the name of a complete stranger that he just let into his home?

“Aren’t you afraid of strangers? Have you learned nothing from the movies? I could kill you when your back is turned,” you reply as you follow behind him.

“That’s highly unlikely,” Gojo laughs, but it sounds hollow as it echoes through the hall.

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you’re stuck in the middle of this horrendous storm with only me and the inhabitants of this house for company. You think I have reason to fear you?”

Gojo Satoru stops walking and abruptly turns to face you, crowding your vision. He speaks to you, but you’re not quite listening. You’re too enchanted by the odd blue of his eyes. Eyes that bright and deep simply do not exist beyond the walls of this house.

You think you may drown if you stare for too long. Gojo’s skin is pale, even when the lights hit the angles of his handsome face. Maybe there is a halo around his head, invisible to your eye. After all, he is the only semblance of a human that you have encountered in the last six hours.

He must be an angel, sent to shepherd you through this storm.

Inhabitants. Gojo mentioned other inhabitants, but you have yet to see anyone else in the house. Despite the emptiness of the house, it looks homey and cozy, with trinkets and odd items strewn about. It is clear that someone lives here. Someone other than Gojo.

You try not to let curiosity get the best of you and just focus on getting warm. With chattering teeth, you allow scalding hot water to drench your skin and your hair. Trying to catch your breath as you shake like a leaf under the spray.

All alone in a strange house in the middle of nowhere with no escape. It’s enough to make anyone nervous, but you welcome it like a reprieve. A second chance. A rebirth.

You brace yourself against the wall of the shower and watch absently as blood mixes with water into the drain.

Wholly unaware of the pair of eyes watching you in the bath, you sigh heavily as if the weight of the world is on your shoulders. It is. Everything is-

No. You won’t think about it, not now.

You can’t feel the graze of his fingertips, not when he caresses the slope of your neck or presses his fingertips to your hips. Not even when he rubs the inside of your soft thighs, or flutters over your calves just to feel the warmth of your skin. He traces the curvature of your spine with the palm of his hand, while you are none the wiser.

He stands in front of you, admiring the way you turn your neck from side to side and rub your sore muscles. Will you let your hands drift downwards? Would you give him that reprieve?

Your tits fit perfectly in his hands, spilling into his palms without any misgivings. He’d nearly forgotten how velvety a woman’s skin was. Much less a human’s. A gasp leaves his lips as he massages your chest, meeting your eyes eagerly. But you can’t see him.

Your cheeks are heated as you lather soap on your skin with hooded eyes and bitten lips. He leans closer, sniffing your neck- you smell divine, what a gorgeous gift you might be…

And then he is called away abruptly, lamenting that loss of your warmth curled away in his hands.

A dark emerald silk robe lays on the pristinely made bed. It’s buttery and soft against your fingertips and it looks brand new. You can’t help but try it on, and somehow it fits you as if it was tailored for you. It’s perfect. You do a little spin in front of the full-length mirror and giggle to yourself, marveling at how it fits you perfectly.

The guest bedroom he showed you to is massive, with ornate cherry wood furniture and a four poster bed that seems like it was custom made.

The warm scent of sandalwood remains on the duvet and on the pillows as you sink into the bed and try to get comfortable. It’s been such a long day and you just want to rest…

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep in this odd house despite only having been here for a few hours. The storm rages on outside, rain battering against the windows as it lulls you into the first peaceful slumber you’ve had in months.

It has been a long time since a human showed up drenched, terrified and shivering to his home. In the modern age, it seemed that less and less people would venture this deep into the forest. In the old days, it would have been the odd traveler or warriors passing by through the night or a woman running away from her betrothed.

Those were always his favorite visitors. These days, it’s usually just foolish, inebriated teenagers or a stray fox. Definitely not nearly as entertaining.

He remains hidden, until Gojo tells him to come out of the shadows. For now, he will remain content to watch you from a distance in his own home. Your shoulders are tense but your face is friendly as you chat away with the white-haired man as you nurse a warm cup of tea in your hands.

You keep him at arm’s length but not too far away so as to arouse suspicion from the man who gave you shelter during such a horrendous storm.

It smells so sweet inside now. Like nectar and honey and flowers. He had a feeling that dark green would be your color, anyway.

There is a portion of the house that Gojo has warned you to not enter. About half of the house is dimly lit, a sharp contrast to the rest of the house that you have seen. The quietness of the hallway just a few short steps away from your bedroom is eerie.

You can’t help but look beyond the threshold and into the darkened hallway.

With the risen moon in the storm as your witness, you ignore Gojo Satoru’s voice in your head and take a few tentative steps towards the forbidden part of the house.

The bedroom at the end of the hall.

It’s not your fault. He shouldn’t have made it sound so enticing.

An owl hoots in the distance, just outside the house. Is the storm still devastating the forest? It’s awfully quiet. Save for your clumsy footsteps. How long has it been? A night? Three?

Darkness is your only company as your heart thunders in your ears and you push against the heavy wooden door. A single turn of the knob reveals that the door is in fact, unlocked.

You exhale, very aware of the hairs standing at the back of your neck. Turning your head, you squint into the darkness. Trying to shake the inevitable feeling of being watched in this endless abyss of a hallway.

You have to know. You must know why this room is forbidden to you.

So you push the door open with your full strength, only to be met with even more darkness. Somehow, it’s a different kind of darkness. The kind of darkness that swallows you and does not spit you back out. The kind that you surrender to.

Surrender comes easily.

Your pupils cannot seem to adjust to the dark, no matter how long you stand here in the forbidden room. Waiting for something - anything - a stream of moonlight, a flicker of a candle. Instead, you stand in the middle of this airy room, one that you can’t see even five feet in front of you in.

A shiver rips down your spine as the door slams shut with a sudden gust of wind from a seemingly closed window whips around you, only for the air to remain perfectly still and breathless.

Amethyst eyes stare back at you in the unmoving darkness. Mirth is clear in these eyes and your shock is amusing, it appears.

“Can’t follow instructions, can you?” The voice is syrupy and magnetic. You hear the voice, beckoning you closer, but you cannot see where the voice is coming from.

He is illuminated by a sudden flash of thunder just by the large French windows.

This is what Gojo must have meant by inhabitants.

The stranger stalks towards you, his steps languid and sure. You’re frozen in place, unable to move. Too mesmerized by the gold flecks in his violet eyes, and the curtain of glossy, black hair that billows with each step he takes.

Light does not need to brighten his face for him to announce his presence.

“Not great at following rules, are we?”

“Rules?” you manage to reply after a beat, squeezing your fingers together in an attempt to ground yourself. He notices, a barely there smirk forming on his handsome face.

He towers over you like a god of the skies, with the moon as his crown.

“You were told not to come here, weren’t you?” His voice is coated by soft velvet, curling around you but leaving you cold.

“Gojo’s told you about me?” you ask curiously. He talks about you? To this chiseled stranger? The thought makes your heart flutter and heat to flood your cheeks.

“I know all about the lost women who seek sanctuary in my home,” he says softly, a hand curling around your jaw. Your eyes drift to his glossy lips briefly. It’s impossible for you to look away from him, his eyes are magnetizing as they stare right through you. As if you are made of glass.

He chuckles.

The erratic beating of your heart thrums in his ears as blood rushes through your veins like syrup. He licks his lips as your eyes drop to follow his tongue eagerly.

What a foolish girl. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already rubbing your thighs together. His reflection looks back at him in your glossy, dark eyes.

Oh, you are exquisite, a divine little thing wrapped up in a bow. A gift given to him by his lover.

Gojo Satoru is a man of celestial tastes and he always has been for decades. He must remember to praise his lover on a job well done, after all. It’s not often that a woman with blood as sweet and ripe as yours falls into his bedroom serendipitously.

Your eyes are wide and wanting, waiting for him to say something. You just want to hear the melody of his voice once more. Just once more. Another few minutes until you leave his bedroom. Just once more.

His touch is icy cold as his thumb parts your lips further, a sharp exhale blowing against his face. A shiver wracks your spine once more but you will not leave his embrace. The simple touch makes you feel alive again, as if you have been searching and searching for something for years but have not been able to find it.

It feels familiar and foreign.

“Go back to bed, girl,” he says dismissively.

“Can’t I stay? With you?” you ask unabashedly, reaching for his velvet, black robe. You catch a sliver of his tanned chest from underneath his robe and swallow.

He is vaguely reminded of a stray kitten, desperate for attention. Adorable, and pathetic.

“Not yet,” he replies, disappearing back into the darkness that he emerged from with a featherlight touch to your cheek, “Not yet.”

His voice echoes through the walls of the grand bedroom, bouncing off of the ornate paintings. You leave the room, wondering if the enigmatic man with purple eyes was merely just a dream conjured up by the wildest parts of your subconscious.

Time must operate on a different frequency in this house. You’ve slept at least six nights here, and yet the storm is as vengeful as it was the first day you arrived at the house. There is no sign of the storm easing up, either. With no end in sight, you continue to explore the house, thoughts of your car long forgotten.

You’ve yet to come across the purple-eyed man again.

Gojo Satoru is the best company you’ve had in weeks. Possibly months, or years. He finds you in the library more often than not, or in the garden.

The garden that seemingly has not been marred by the wicked winds of the storm. Somehow, the house stands still, impervious to mother nature.

“What are you reading today?” comes a voice far too close to your ear. Gojo Satoru loves invading your personal space, as you’ve come to learn.

“It’s a history book,” you reply, not looking up from the page you’re on. He doesn’t need to know, but you’ve stopped reading the page ever since you noticed him appear in the room. You’ve been waiting for him to stop by, as he always does.

“How absolutely fascinating,” he says, sitting next to you and pushing the book aside to lay his head on your lap, “Now you have something nicer to look at.”

“Is that so?”

You look down at him, once again startled by the blue of his eyes. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, it always takes your breath away. It takes a moment to adjust to the unnatural hue of his eyes and his stark white hair.

He smiles at you. At that moment, he looked so boyish and young. You wonder how long he’s been here.

“You’ve made quite a home for yourself here, haven’t you,” he muses.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” you don’t sound particularly troubled by it.

“Not at all. Don’t you want to get back home? I’m sure you have people wondering where you are. A child? A spouse?” he probes, eyebrows raising when your heart quickens at the mention of a spouse.

“He’s not waiting or wondering where I am,” you say bitterly, immediately tensing up, “He never loved me.”

“I’m sure he’s worried about you-”

“No. He’s not,” you say with a note of finality. You look away, at your hands in your lap as your face falls and something far away settles on your features. Your lips tug into a slight frown.

“Well, anyone would be lucky to have you love them. He wasn’t worthy,” Gojo soothes you with a comforting squeeze of your hands.

“No, he wasn’t,” you reply. Your eyes are glassy and distant, as if you are replaying a memory of your past in your mind. It was simple, until it wasn’t. You were enough, until you weren’t. “I am deserving of a lover who would do anything for me.”

“Of course you are, darling,” he says, sitting up and tilting your chin up to meet your eyes, “I’m sorry anyone convinced you otherwise.”

You turn toward him, meeting his gaze with big, watery eyes. Your hands are held tightly within his, as you lean towards him. Allowing your gaze to flicker to his pouty lips and back to his eyes.

“You deserve a lover who would write you love letters,” he murmurs, “Compare you to the moon’s beauty.” A kiss to your chin. “Be your lighthouse in the storm.” A kiss to your cheek. “Protect you from the darkness of the world by destroying it. Keep you safe,” A kiss to your eyelid. “A lover who would do anything for you.” A kiss to the corner of your lips.

“A lover who would kill for you.”

A final barely there kiss to your lips. Your cheeks are warm, chest fluttering as you lean into him once more to press your lips to his again. He lays back against the couch so that you lay on top of him comfortably as you chase his kisses. You are impatient, your hands straying to his hair, to his chest to unbutton his shirt.

Your moans are soft in his ears, as if you haven’t been touched like this in forever. Gojo watches the pretty planes of your face shift as he focuses his energy on you, on gripping your hips and letting his hands wander over you before resting on your chest. Your heart is hammering away, soft and delicious.

He looks ethereal under you, fallen from the skies above. You can’t pull away, certainly not from the foreign look in his eyes. One that you’ve never seen before, not in your husband, not in previous lovers… It’s for you, the look of ripe, unbitten desire.

“Oh, you are a gorgeous thing, aren’t you?”

Your skin feels overheated- with too many layers covering the space between you and the man beneath you. You struggle to take your dress off, but Gojo replaces your fingers with his own.

“I’ll take care of you, won’t I? You’ll let me take care of you?”

You nod wordlessly as he lifts you up to take your dress off. You sit completely naked on top of him while he is still clothed.

Your face is buried in his neck as you rut your hips against him, trying to gain friction. Gojo looks up and to the side, feeling a pair of eyes on his back. Purple meets blue and he winks at his lover and smiles before turning his attention to you.

He hopes his dear lover is watching.

Geto Suguru is exhausted, deep within his centuries old bones. Blood does not come by the house as often as it used to, and while it would be just as easy to go to the nearest city to get his fill…

It does not hold the same pleasure anymore. Besides, when his lover is intent on finding him an everlasting source of blood, who is he to argue?

He is just so hungry, absolutely famished. It doesn’t help that a brilliant and beautiful damsel is sleeping in his home, just down the hall. He can hear your soft breaths and the rustle of the sheets as you twist and turn. Are you dreaming of him?

He supposes he can find out just as easily.

He enters your dreams with hardly any resistance from you. Your mind is malleable as he sifts through as if flipping pages of a book. There are patches of grey darkness melded in with hues of emerald and cerulean and amber as he takes a look around the essence of your mind.

It’s almost as if your subconscious can sense his presence and clears a path for him.

There you are, standing in a cemetery surrounded by fallen leaves and dead trees. The sky is grey, fitting with the melancholy that surrounds the cemetery. A breeze in the air whistles through his hair and leads him to you.

Sitting in front of a tiny memorial with an odd smile on your face.

Is this a dream, or is this a memory?

He makes a note of the name on the memorial, just as you lift your head and stare vacantly at him. Almost as if he’s made of glass and you are looking straight through him to the other side.

The dream shifts in a puff of smoke and he is suddenly in an apartment shrouded in shadows and darkness with nothing but the sounds of hoarse voices speaking loudly to each other. Not quite yelling, but not quite talking quietly either.

“... You never loved me, never made me a priority-”

“That’s not true and you know it-”

“You can’t wait to get rid of me, can you-”

“You have this version of love in your fucked up head that doesn’t exist. That nobody can live up to-”

“I just want you to love me and protect me!”

Then there is crying and harsh screaming. It grates against his eardrums before ebbing away into nothingness.

Until he is flung into an ocean of blood and nearly drowns trying to get back into reality.

An envelope outside your bedroom door awaits you after your morning walk in the garden. It is addressed to you, with your name written in black ink in cursive with a large wax seal. You run your finger over the seal in awe.

Who exactly are the men who live in this house, anyway?

The letter reads:

You are cordially invited to join me for dinner tonight, at 6:30 PM sharp. You will find three dresses in the closet of your bedroom. Choose wisely.

I look forward to our evening together.

There is no signature, only initials embossed in the parchment paper in silky, black print. The initials are shiny and wet, as if it was just signed and placed under your bedroom door.

You hold the letter close to your chest, unable to keep the giddy smile off of your face. Ever since you were a young girl, you’ve always dreamed of a lover who would write you letters dictating their unconditional love for you.

You look at the letter again, tracing over the initials gently and press a gentle kiss to the ink. How utterly enchanting.

You decide on the muted mauve gown with tiny, shimmering stars embedded into the tulle. Will your mysterious dinner guest be happy with your choice? Which of the three dresses did he want to see you in?

Your heart flutters at the thought of seeing the long, dark haired man with otherworldly eyes chance a glance at you once more.

He awaits you in lustrous black robes at the bottom of the neverending marble spiral staircase, looking like a painting come to life. Your breath catches in your throat when he meets your eyes with that soft up-turn of his lips.

“Good evening,” he says, voice carrying as he offers his arm to you, “Your punctuality is alluring.”

“Only my punctuality?” you ask breathlessly.

“I suppose that remains to be determined, doesn’t it?”

He leads you to the dining room, one of the many rooms you have not explored yet. A heavy chandelier glitters above the dark mahogany table and if you look for longer than a second, you’d be able to see your reflection in it.

“I’ve observed you, you know. Exquisite taste in books,” he informs you.

“Oh, yes, I’m…well-read, I guess,” you shrug, taking a sip of your flavorful soup.

“I’ve seen you in the library. That old couch isn’t very comfortable. Is it you who leaves my books out in disarray?” he teases.

“What?! I never left behind a mess-” you protest but relax when you see his grin, “Oh. Don’t make fun of me.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. He barely touches his full plate of food, instead opting to take in your presence in his home. In just a few short days, you’ve made this house your own home.

“Tell me,” he says, his voice curling around you and warming your cold hands, “What are you reading? What’s caught your attention?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” you say vaguely, “I like history.”

“History? What about history interests you?”

“Well… I like learning about the past,” you muse, “We’re doomed to repeat history if we don’t see the patterns throughout time…”

“Yes, we certainly are,” he nods, “History is funny that way.”

“It is. Our own histories are just a reflection of that, too.”

“Oh?”

“We’re doomed to make the same mistakes if we don’t recognize our own flaws… I suppose.”

“And what are your flaws?” he asks smoothly, making you laugh.

“I have none, couldn’t you tell?” you reply with a wink.

He merely looks at you, staring at you as if he can see right through you into the fibers of your soul. It’s unnerving, and you look away to focus on your food and on chewing each bite thoroughly. He doesn’t eat much, if anything, only drinking every few minutes from his glass of wine. But his eyes remain transfixed on you even as you sit in silence.

“I want to show you something,” he says once you’re finished with your meal.

You nod and let him lead the way.

He takes you through the garden, past freshly bloomed tulips, cherry blossoms and red spider lilies and dewy, green bushes. Your eyes are suddenly filled with color, but all you can fix your gaze on is the man who glides in front of you with your hand in his.

His hand is cold, but his voice is warm like tea.

The summer rains continue to fall, but not on you.

In the center of the vast garden sits a shimmering lake with the bluest, clearest water that you’ve ever seen. Your eyes are wide in wonder. Is there a mountain hidden beyond the trees?

“This lake wasn’t here when we moved into the house,” the man says softly.

“How is that possible?”

“The universe gave her to us when we needed her most,” he replies, turning his head with an intense stare.

“And you believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrug, breaking eye contact with him to look back at the lake. The man is intense, like a blazing fire in the darkness. You can’t help but hold onto his every word as he regales you with the tale of how he stumbled upon this forest. His voice is enchanting as it echoes through the silent forest- the trees must be listening to his reverence as well.

He reminds you of a tortured prince. His voice is heard from further and further away as you marvel at the stillness of the young lake. Soon, you can’t hear his voice at all.

The thought should scare you, but you feel safe and protected by the trees in this forest.

You hardly realize how far you’ve walked by yourself, to the other side of the lake. Excitement (maybe adrenaline) settles in your bones as a sudden impenetrable fog emerges, and yet you touch it, wrap your hands around it. As if it has a heartbeat.

It surrounds you but is gentle in its caress as you pick up the skirt of your dress to avoid tumbling as you sprint through the woods.

The trees fade away behind you.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Air fills your lungs like a reprieve. Just before you let it go and gulp down air again. The crunch of boots on fallen leaves and sound of birds fleeing does nothing to quell the nerves in your belly.

The puffy sleeve of your dress catches on a stray branch, the pretty tulle ripping into shreds. What a waste of such a beautiful dress, you think absently. Your arm begins to bleed profusely but you pay it no mind.

You are a princess, being sought after by the monster in the closet.

Geto Suguru nearly hisses when the scent of fresh blood permeates the air like a barely hidden vice. It’s sweet, like a freshly plucked peach on a summer day.

He wonders how you’d taste on his tongue, your neck bare and craned all for him…

Dull pain radiates across his gums as his fangs descend further. Your sharp laugh pierces the uneasy quiet of the dark forest. His runaway princess, always seemingly ten steps ahead of him.

You flit in between the trees, looking over your shoulder with curious, cautious eyes. Even from this distance at the edge of the forest, he sees honey dripping from your wild eyes.

As you look over your shoulder, you see him taking languid steps toward you. When you blink, he’s there, a shrouded shadow that you nearly miss in your line of sight. When you blink again, he’s gone. Your sprints slow to a walk before you stop completely. In the middle of these strange woods, you look up to the sky, only to see a shroud of endless grey descending upon you.

Purple blinks back at you from high up in the trees. You shiver, and he suddenly stands in front of you, his velvety black robes billowing behind him.

“You have every opportunity to leave,” he says silkily. His words melt over you, dripping onto your skin like hot candle wax. The warmth is soothing and you would do anything he asked, you think.

“I know,” you say softly.

His eyes sear into yours, searching and burning through you as he comes closer. His touch is cold as his index finger remains on your jaw, stroking your cheekbone slowly. Your eyes are wide, shining eagerly with obedience.

His lips part, his gleaming fangs lengthening so daintily and his eyes shift from purple to black. But he is still his welcoming self, with his easy smile and his gentle touch. Except, the way he smiles is different.

The shift is there, but barely recognizable.

“You should’ve run away, little dove, ” he says softly in your ear as you shiver in his hold, “When you had the chance to.”

You shake your head, only making him graze your neck further. You are ravishing, the slow honey in your body gushing like a waterfall.

“There is nothing for me beyond this forest anymore,” you whisper softly into his ear. His lips flutter warmly against the column of your neck.

The first bite is always the most painful, but it eases away as quickly as it came as his fangs sink heartily into the delicate skin of your neck. Right next to your jugular vein, but not quite.

A sigh echoes through the forest, barely a noise over the sound of drops of your blood dripping onto his tongue. It is euphoric- your eyes flutter shut when his fangs pierce further into your neck. Almost straight into the vein.

If he’s not careful, he might drain you dry. That would be…tragic, considering the promise he made to Gojo.

But you are so sweet. Like nectar, and you walked right into his home with open arms, tangled in his decadent web.

Your grip on his robes is tight as you somehow pull him closer. As if you want him to take more out of you. How greedy. But he doesn’t, instead pulling away and licking his lips. His eyes revert back to their chilling purple as he keeps his gaze on you.

You sigh again, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. And yet, something flutters in your belly, making you smile and look up at him with lovestruck eyes.

“What’s your name?” you exhale, your breaths coming out in cold wisps as the wind bites your skin.

He smirks at you, fangs still tinted red with your blood. Your heart races.

“Geto Suguru,” he murmurs, brushing a stray drop of blood away from your neck with his lithe finger and licking it.

He says your name softly before he kisses you, the taste of metal ripe on your lips like a summer peach. Your knees immediately buckle as he slips further into your mouth. Despite the chill of his fingertips, a fire alights in your belly and spreads and spreads. Your breaths are erratic as you trail after him, struggling to keep up.

Your name in his mouth sounds like a promise.

The slight pain in the back of your head throbs lightly with each thready thought that forms in your brain, and yet all you can think about is the way Geto Suguru’s lips felt on your neck. The cold touch of his fingertips against your skin as he meticulously drank your blood.

Your blood. He chose you and he came after you in that forest.

It makes you giddy. It makes the headache worth it.

Slowly, the night turns into day. Repetitively, you hear the sound of the cozy rain and the sharpness of the wind against the windows nearly rattling the house. You don’t recall the last time you saw the sun, and yet light filters into the house through the skylights placed in the living room.

You don’t question it. It’s better than the alternative, being stuck in that stuffy house with your awful husband. Your husband who never cared for you, who never sought you out. Made you his priority.

Despite the fancy jewelry and pristine silks, the way you would dote on him, he never noticed you. He probably didn’t even notice that you were gone, anyway. You were supposed to be his favorite. His only.

No matter. Geto Suguru drank your blood today. Nobody else’s but yours. Are you his favorite? His only?

You can’t help but laugh at such a ridiculous thought as you gingerly touch your neck and soothe the bite marks. Of course, you’re his only. You are the only woman in this house, save for Gojo Satoru. And he has been nowhere to be seen as of late.

You must be his favorite.

“Jealousy is quite attractive on you,” Suguru says, chuckling as Satoru glares at him and throws a pillow at him half-heartedly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Satoru sighs dramatically, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“Now you’re just being juvenile,” Suguru says, tossing the pillow back. The air is briefly knocked out of Satoru’s lungs and he tries to sit up. He glares at his lover, but the heat in his bright eyes falters as he reaches for him and cradles his jaw.

“You know this is only a means to an end,” he soothes.

“Sorry I can’t be a human again so you could drink my blood,” Satoru says petulantly, “You like her, I know you do.”

“There’s no need to be accusatory,” Suguru replies, airily, “And there’s no reason to lie. I know you like her, too. As if I don’t know that you watch her when you shouldn’t.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but his shoulders slump as he slides into Suguru’s warm embrace. “I just…I wish I could bleed for you the way you need me to. I wish I could fulfill you in the way this stranger can.”

“Oh, I’ve neglected you, haven’t I,” Suguru says softly, tightening his hold around Satoru’s narrow waist, “You brought her into our home for me. There must have been something about her that was alluring to you.”

“It’s not everyday you find a woman who abandoned her car in the middle of the worst storm in years only to show up drenched at the front door. The opportunity presented itself and I couldn’t resist.”

“She seems in no rush to leave. To go back home. We should find out why,” Suguru muses, his train of thought interrupted by Satoru’s wandering hands.

“That’s a later problem,” Satoru murmurs, letting his fingers trail up his thigh. His touch is fleeting, barely there. Just applying the tiniest pressure behind his knee, where he knows Suguru is sensitive. He shudders- it’s funny, that a vampire as old as him can still feel flustered by a simple caress.

Well, Satoru has had many opportunities to learn over the centuries from the Meiji era to now. They were both young high school boys when they met, with dreams of samurai becoming distant as their worlds cracked wide open by the introduction of new literature, new teachers, new philosophies. They were still boys, running through empty fields, sharing copies of the same books. Sharing shade under the same tree branch.

Sharing each other’s first kiss. They were boys, until they weren’t.

The clocks continued to spin until neither of them could control the inevitable passage of time. Time pulled them apart, Satoru to Tokyo and Suguru back to the countryside to take care of his parents and the farm he left behind.

They found each other again, this time under much more dire circumstances. Vampirism was spreading through Japan like a plague, and Suguru wanted to know everything about it. What was eternal life like? Was it beautiful, did it contain multitudes? Was there anything human about an immortal being?

His questions were meaningless because it didn’t take long for him to succumb to a vampire bite. His parents were dead and everything on the farm was gone, ripped to pieces and blood splattered across the wooden walls of the barn.

It took him about three decades to discover that the carnage was laid out by him. He was turned and he rained blood on his own home. It took another decade to find the vampire nest who did this to him.

Then another three decades to find Gojo Satoru once more.

He had been nestled in the heart of Tokyo, as a teacher of all things. There had been a very brief, happy reunion. It didn’t take Suguru long to realize that something was off about Satoru. The coincidences were too many- he was flighty and impulsive, rarely eating (in fact, Suguru can’t recall the last time he saw him eat any food), and he swears that his skin was translucent in the sunlight.

“Something is keeping me here,” Satoru muses with his lover’s head in his lap, “Can’t imagine what it is.”

“I don’t want you to cross the Sanzu River, not without me,” Suguru says firmly, looking at him with red eyes.

“Is there an afterlife for vampires?” Satoru muses, “I mean, I’m surely safe. I’m a ghost, after all. A spirit tethered to the material earth, or something.”

“If you wanted to leave, you would.”

“Yes,” he says solemnly, “I suppose I would.”

It has been decades since that day and the universe has pulled them apart and brought them back together many times. For two immortal beings, spending five or eight or fifteen years apart is just a blip in the fabric of time. They both find each other each time, even when Suguru was contemplating his entire existence as a vampire and a former human.

He had become Japan’s most infamous vampire for a period of time after draining over a hundred humans completely of their blood. How was it just, for them to hold two little vampire girls hostage when they had no say in being turned?

Suguru couldn’t stomach it- how isolating and selfish humans could be in the face of adversity. In the name of self-righteousness.

Never again, he vowed. Never again would he allow humans to treat his own that way. But Satoru brought him back from the brink of sure destruction, before Suguru could decimate the entirety of Japan.

Satoru wouldn’t let him give in to his most primal urges. He wouldn’t let Suguru lose himself because he couldn’t be bound to the earth without him-

“I can’t let you do this.”

“Don’t tell me you care-”

“I can’t let you do this to me, you can’t leave me here! Not for this. Not for them.”

“You’re selfish, Satoru!”

“So are you,” he scoffs.

But that was the end of it. Suguru’s eyes had returned to their purple and Satoru whisked him away.

He had whisked him away from all the noise, the blood, the chaos to the towering castle in the trees that they currently lived in in the quiet of the forest-

“Hey,” Satoru questions, poking his cheek, “You just spaced out for a while.”

“I was thinking about you,” Suguru replies, turning his head to meet his caress.

“As always-”

“You saved me. And you continue to save me,” Suguru says, “So let me show you my undying gratitude.”

Satoru hopes desperately that you can hear the echoes of his pleasure from your bedroom.

The house seems to have transfigured into more of a castle the longer you stay here. Winding staircases appear out of thin air complete with unfamiliar corridors and twists and turns.

But what remains the same is the library and how often you frequent it. The entire history of the universe must be kept in these bookshelves. There isn’t enough time in the day for you to read all of the treasures inside the library that seems to get bigger everyday.

You have been reading the same book for some time now, getting distracted by thoughts of Gojo Satoru. He hasn’t come to visit you in the library recently and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve done something to upset him for him to avoid you.

He comes and goes as he pleases. As if he’s there but he’s not there at all.

“There you are,” you say easily, sitting next to him on the bed.

“Can I help you?” Satoru says petulantly. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Whatever gave you that idea,” he deadpans, still not looking at you.

“Oh, come on,” you whine, tugging at his hand, “You can tell me anything.”

His head turns to you abruptly, too quickly to be considered normal. With narrowed eyes, he searches your face for any sign of deceit.

Satoru scoffs and lays back on the bed dramatically. You follow his actions and face him, meeting his terribly piercing gaze. Unable to stop yourself, you allow your fingers to graze his pale cheek. When he doesn’t flinch, you let your hand rest on his chest. He is more muscular than he looks, you think.

As if Satoru can read your thoughts, he turns to you and glares at you.

Comfortable silence fills the room. He stares at you, thoughts swirling behind those azure eyes, willing himself to speak.

Satoru pretends like he doesn’t notice your hand drifting down further.

“I found you first,” he mumbles, “And I found him first.”

“You did find me first,” you muse, “When nobody else wanted me, you did.”

Your grip on his shirt tightens briefly.

“And now he’s drinking your blood and I can’t-”

“Oh, Satoru,” you say softly, “You don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, but his silence conveys all you need to know. If Satoru could blush, his cheeks would be tinted a rosy color. You vowed before, to never let yourself feel as unwanted and lonely as you did in that relationship. And to never let anyone else feel that same loneliness.

His name is a honeyed whisper on your tongue that he wishes to pull from your pretty lips as often as he can.

“I found you both first,” Satoru replies harshly before he presses his lips to yours, “Don’t ever forget that.”

Chaos bursts in his bright eyes before he closes them to kiss you, to pull your voice to the tip of your tongue. Your mouth is sweet, full of roses and tea. It’s no wonder Suguru is so taken with the taste of your rich blood.

You fist his shirt as if you can’t get close enough to him with quickened breaths. Satoru can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his. Can you feel his weightlessness against you?

Satoru pulls you into his lap easily, groaning into your mouth when you lazily rock your hips into his. You remind him that you’re with him in this magical forest, that he found you first. The universe brought you to him and he kisses you fiercely, to ground himself.

Despite your hands marking his shoulder blades and your legs tight around his narrow hips, Satoru feels far away. Impossible to touch as if there is a veil keeping you on the outside.

Does he know? It doesn’t matter- you’ll find your way through the fog to touch his soul with your gentle fingertips.

The castle contains newly appearing staircases and paintings that have surely been lost to something as feeble as time and history. It protects you from the raging storm outside, the storm that surely awaits you in your home.

It protects you from dangers that you cannot see.

You shouldn’t be here. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t be blamed. Not when the endless shadows of the house- the castle- lead you here. Straight to the ornate door of what must be Suguru and Satoru’s bedroom.

Only a door shields you from them. Only a door shields them from you.

Quiet whispers are muffled beyond the door, both of their voices mixing together. Whispers flow into syrupy moans as you press your ear against the door to listen.

You shouldn’t be here, disrupting what is surely to be an intimate moment between two lovers that you are not privy to. But you want to be. You want to feel their breaths span across your back, hear their voices low in your ear, feel their sinewy limbs under your fingertips.

It makes you shiver. To be velvet in between silver and gold. All you can do is press your ear closer, closer…

No, you shouldn’t. But they’re so close to you-

“I can hear you breathing from out there,” Suguru says dryly, loudly enough for you to hear through the door, “If you’re trying to conceal yourself, you’re not doing a very good job.”

Impatiently, you push the door open, mesmerized by Suguru on his knees in front of Satoru. He is seated on the bed, leaning back on his elbows with hazy eyes and his fingers tangled in Suguru’s hair.

You inhale hungrily, unsure of where to look. Suguru chuckles at you and beckons you closer with a simple, heady look.

“Don’t just stand there,” he says, his voice strained as Satoru complains over the lack of attention on him, “Sit down.”

You barely breathe as Suguru strokes Satoru’s hardened, leaking cock with his massive hand. You wonder how that hand would look around Satoru’s neck- as if he can read your mind, his left hand wanders up the pale divots of his chest and to his neck. Resting there, holding Satoru in place as he squirms for Suguru to do something. Anything.

Suguru’s voice is low but clear, softly telling Satoru to stay still and be patient. His hips jump in time with Suguru’s lazy strokes. How torturous- how long has Suguru had his lover on his back like this, waiting for mercy?

It must have been for a long time, considering the trembling of Satoru’s body and how he silently begs for more.

He smears pre-cum over his cock before pushing Satoru’s legs wider apart. Looking over his shoulder to see if you’re watching his movements, only to smirk at you knowingly. Your cheeks are warm as you peer at him. At Satoru’s vulnerability.

Suguru must know everything about Satoru. Everything about what he likes, about how to dissolve him into a pleading mess of want. You want to learn. You want to please them both. You want to learn from them.

But you just watch, for now.

You rub your thighs together subconsciously when they both sigh in unison as Suguru bottoms out. Their breaths are heavy against each other, silenced when he kisses Satoru harshly in contrast to his slow, purposeful thrusts. The fondness, the love between them is palpable in the way they gaze at each other. As if you aren’t even there- as if they are the only two stars in the entire sky of the universe. It wouldn’t be fair to the scales of the universe for there to be two pairs of lovers like them.

You wish to be the exception. You will be the exception.

“Touch yourself,” Suguru grunts from the bed, looking at you over his shoulder. You make an attempt to crawl closer to him but he stops you abruptly. “No, you’ll stay there and you’ll touch yourself. Let us see you.”

Their hands are interlocked and desire washes over you in a tidal wave. He turns away to give his attention to Satoru but you lift the skirt of your robe up to your waist to give them both a full view of your wetness.

You clench around nothing, wishing desperately to take Suguru in your mouth or press your pussy to Satoru’s lips. Instead you rub your clit in time with Suguru’s thrusts, watching his hips roll. Satoru’s moans are loud and raspy, calls of his lover’s name, please, please, please, more…

“Watch her,” Suguru hisses, his hair in disarray as he shoves Satoru’s face towards you. You gasp when both of them watch you together, watching as you shove your finger deep into your pussy, the sound of squelching mixing together and bouncing off the walls.

You’re quiet in your corner of the room, obediently waiting for Suguru to beckon you closer. For him to grant you a small touch, however fleeting. But he never does, and you are desperate for their attention. For an ounce of their shared love to drip onto your heated skin.

“O-ohhh-”

Your clit throbs as Satoru’s moans get louder and louder, breathier and breathier and Suguru is concentrated on how his cock pushes into Satoru effortlessly, how effortless it’s been for decades but it feels like a millenia- and if there is a god- this is the salvation he’d pray for-

He cums with a broken moan, his chest heaving but continues to push into Satoru as he murmurs sweet nothings to him. They both turn their eyes to you, you who is currently rubbing yourself furiously as if you’re racing against time. Your eyelids are hazy, clouded over with lust. You listen so well. You hadn’t even moved an inch from where Suguru had told you to stay.

“Come here, darling,” Suguru coos, “What a good girl. Do you want a kiss?”

You nod eagerly and all but crawl to him and sit in front of him on your knees, waiting patiently.

“Good girls get kisses,” he replies, “Come here, next to me.”

Satoru pushes back on Suguru, trying to fuck himself on his cock but to no avail. Suguru places a warning hand on his hip to stop him. He kisses you, a chaste peck. It’s not enough for you, but he gives you a meaningful glance. Telling you to listen to him.

You lean forward to give Satoru a kiss and before you can deepen it, Suguru tells you that’s enough.

“No touching,” he clicks his tongue, “Touch yourself while Satoru cums. Show him how much you like it when he cums, sweetheart. Doesn’t he look good like this?”

You nod vigorously with warmth pooling in your cheeks. Suguru’s hair is in disarray, long strands falling from his messily made bun onto his forehead. He moves gracefully, a painter with his paintbrush as he strokes against Satoru. He is Suguru’s canvas.

Your chest tightens at the stars barely concealed in his meteor eyes.

Satoru’s gaze is hooded and heady, concentrated only on the man hovering above him as his hair falls onto his skin. Your fingers are warm against your thighs, but you prefer the coldness of theirs.

Suguru pushes his angel hair away from his forehead and murmurs for him to sing for him. To sing for you. His moans rise in pitch with every stroke- you can’t stop the way you look longingly where they are connected. Each tense muscle in his body is soothed by the other’s gentle but firm touch. It’s a delicate dance, one that Suguru has barred you from partaking in.

Your fingers wander, languidly rubbing circles on your clit, entranced by the ripple of muscles and the sheen layer of sweat on skin. The connection of two lovers is a sight that you are blessed to witness. You want to drink them in, be drenched in their love for each other- for you.

“What a patient girl,” comes a silky voice from next to you, “Why don’t you let us have you now?”

Suguru laughs when you nod your head vigorously. Like an enthusiastic puppy wanting her owner’s attention.

“I want you both,” you say impatiently, pawing at them both,“Together-”

“Let’s give the girl what she wants,” Satoru says, still catching his breath as he lays flat on the bed.

You are met only with hungry eyes and salacious smiles.

The moon hangs above for prolonged hours as the night begins earlier and earlier. It must be nearing the winter, you think. Frost clings to the air like stars in the sky, but you don’t mind it. Not when you’re there to keep both Satoru and Suguru warm.

Despite the winter fast approaching, you still hear the faint sound of rolling thunder.

“That’s enough,” Suguru murmurs, pulling away from your wrist gently as he licks drops of your sweet blood.

“Are you certain?” you ask, despite feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Yes, darling. You’d let me have you, wouldn’t you?” he coos, as if he is speaking to a newborn deer. Your lips part into a wide, bashful smile as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“My sweetest girl,” he says, pressing his lips to your jaw. You laugh airily at the sensation, pretending to push him back with a hand on his firm chest.

“I would give you all the blood you wanted,” you reply, “You only want my blood, right?”

“Is validation from me what you seek?” Suguru teases you.

Your voice is so full of hope, eyes shining with reverence as you wait for an answer. How far would you walk for him? Just to the edge of the universe? Would you fall over the precipice with him? Would you look over your shoulder before jumping if he told you to?

Judging by the way you shove your wrist in his face, he thinks he has his answer. Your skin is dotted with fading bite marks, some fresh and some old. You wear them with pride, uncaring if anyone sees. Not that there is anyone to see you, besides Gojo Satoru and himself.

The soft smile that uncurls on your face when Suguru’s eyes shift from a calm purple to charcoal and veins abruptly appear under his eyes as he feeds on you is enthralling. No feeling will equate to his soft whimpers as the first drop of your blood enters his circulatory system.

That’s all he is, anyway. A mess of blood and an undead heart thoughtlessly arranged together with frayed red strings in a puzzle where the pieces don’t fit. But somehow, you fit. You and Satoru both fit in different places.

No feeling, not even the memories of your formerly known lover, can make you feel as desired as Geto Suguru drinking your blood as if you are the last living, breathing thing on the planet.

Suguru gives you beautiful gowns and glittery jewels to adorn on your neck and your ears. All you need to give him is your blood and he’ll indulge you with his undivided attention.

“I desire you,” he mumbles, kissing your cupid’s bow, “Your mind,” a kiss to your forehead, “Your company,” a kiss to your palm, “Your body,” a kiss to your clothed chest, “Your soul,” a final lingering kiss to your bruised wrist.

“Oh,” you say sheepishly. Suguru can feel your lashes flutter against his cheek.

“Shall I prove it to you?”

He grins wolfishly, determined to indulge in every inch of you.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Satoru says with food in his mouth, “A cop came by earlier. He was asking about a certain abandoned car about two miles from here.”

Satoru’s eyes shift to you, piercing and intense but you don’t meet his gaze.

“That’s so…interesting,” you mutter, “Who would come out this far and just dump their car? How weird…”

“Someone trying to leave something behind, maybe?” Suguru suggests knowingly, his eyes equally as piercing as Satoru’s.

You avoid both of their pointed gazes and take a long swig of red wine.

The silence suffocates you, but you don’t relent. They don’t need to know your secret, the one that you’ll carry with you until your dying breath. The real reason for your abrupt departure from your home, the perceived carelessness of throwing your car keys out in the mud on the forest floor for anyone to find. All for the simple hope of salvation in this sea of trees.

Instead of salvation, you’ve found eternal damnation with the immortal vampire Geto Suguru and ever living ghost Gojo Satoru. It’s still far better than the unfortunate alternative that awaited you in your former life.

You play with the emerald necklace seated at the base of your neck. A gift, of course, from the two ethereal beings sitting in front of you. Your lip nearly bleeds from how tightly you hold it between your teeth, debating whether you should tell them or not.

Not today.

“We need to know who is looking for you,” Satoru says firmly.

“Why? So you can hand me over to them all wrapped up in a bow? Or so that you can exile me from your home?” you challenge petulantly. Suguru narrows his eyes in your direction and you swear they flash an angry red. You try not to feel small in your seat and hold your head high.

“Don’t you dare imply that either of us would give you up so easily,” he all but hisses, “Do not insult me.”

“Besides, don’t you think we should know why the cops are knocking on our door asking about your abandoned car?” Satoru chimes in with a barely concealed smirk, “And how stupid do you think we are? To not know that that abandoned car was yours?”

Your eyes land on your hands in your lap and you sigh, the burden of your former life weighing heavily in your throat.

“You will banish me if I tell you,” you say, “I can’t handle it if you tell me to leave. There is nowhere for me to go.” Your words are sincere as you cave into yourself.

“Of course we wouldn't, sweetheart,” Satoru coos, coming around the table to sit next to you. He places a lithe, translucent finger under your chin and forces you to look at him. Uncertainty dances in your dark eyes but you’re unable to break the trance that he has placed you under.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” you mumble.

“How very mysterious of you,” Satoru teases you, patting your hair without a care in the world.

“We’re only asking so we can protect you if we need to,” Suguru offers. Heat blooms in your chest at his firm admission. Of course, they’d protect you. After all, this house is a lighthouse in the storm.

Today, you've forgotten to check if the rain continues to fall outside.

The garden behind this castle of a house is flourishing and colorful, filled with flowers and blooms that you have never seen before. A sea of reds, pinks, blues and greens bursts in your eyes. To think, you’ve never seen the garden before. In fact, when was the last time you stepped outside?

You have not seen the sun in days, weeks, months, perhaps. But you feel the warmth of the sun whenever you lay between Satoru and Suguru.

But the breeze is refreshing against your face as it threads through your hair.

You look over the treeline, at the tallest trees that seem to pierce the stormy, grey sky. The rain has not begun for the day yet, but you suspect it will soon. It’s heavy in the air, palpable against your skin. If you reach out into the empty space, you’re certain you could collect raindrops into your hands.

A shiver trembles down your spine as the frosty air whips your face. Perhaps the rain will turn to snow soon. You always did love the snow. The silence of a fresh, bright snowfall where everything is as still as the night

Despite the approaching winter chill, the flowers in the garden are flourishing as if it’s the middle of springtime. You never really appreciated the springtime flowers in the past. But maybe because you never noticed, never took the time to smell the roses.

The tiny pond centered in the garden is as motionless as the air that chokes you with silence. Lotus flowers float mindlessly from one side of the pond to the other. You’ve never seen so many lotuses in one place before. It’s beautiful and rather ominous.

Time does not move in this patch of the forest. You’re forced to stand still along with the magic of the house, the symphony of the storm. Is it the magic of the house, or is it the vampire and the ghost who live inside the house?

Does it matter?

You sigh heavily, picking at your cuticles as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Your coat is heavy around your shoulders. Are they watching you in the windows? Wondering why you’ve left them alone in the house, why you’re sitting outside all alone?

Will they come find you? What would it take for them to come crawling to you, begging for your attention? Perhaps a deep cut on your wrist with the sharpened end of the gate surrounding the backyard, a scrape of your knees-

A whoosh of air wraps around your face in a firm caress but it’s not the wind, it’s more warm and comforting. You feel something being placed gently into your hair- a red spider lily.

You hide your smile.

The breeze feels like the curl of lithe fingers around your cheek, invisible but heavy against your skin. You sense Satoru’s touch but you still play coy, pretending like you don’t notice him pawing at your clothes.

You can’t see him, but you can feel him. His hands pushing the collar of your coat to lick up the column of your throat. Cold breaths against your ear as his teeth graze your earlobe.

It’s playful, teasing- you can nearly hear his laughter. Until it’s not anymore, and you find yourself on your back in the grass. Staring at the stormy sky, despite the column of sunlight illuminating you.

You wonder if Suguru is watching. You hope he is.

His hands are nimble, an out of body experience, as your blouse becomes unbuttoned and tossed to the side. With a shaky breath, you try to feel for him, wanting to touch his chest or press your lips to his-

But he doesn’t allow you to, only allowing you to be at his mercy as he holds your chest in his unseen hands. You look down in interest as your own flesh is kneaded by the concealed force that is Gojo Satoru. His touch is searing, heavenly and goosebumps rise on your neck as the pressure of his hips presses against yours. Your skirt is suddenly flipped upwards in a flurry of impatience as he pulls you closer to him. To close the gap between life and the afterlife- to tip you towards the latter.

A moan parts through the veil and settles deep in your belly as warmth bursts. You are sensitive to the plush grass against your back, against your bare thighs- your skirt has been pulled off and you lay unclothed in the garden. Like izanami herself, you lay with only the elements to witness as the unearthly being on top of you parts your knees lewdly.

He stares at your wetness as your legs part open- after all, divine intervention sits at the apex of your thighs and he wants a taste. He wants to see the great light, or whatever comes next, in your eyes as his teeth brush against your inner thighs. Satoru tastes honey once he moves your hands aside. You can’t hide from him- you can’t hide from something you cannot see. He is hungry for you, hungry to devour you, hungry for you to give in fully to him. To be absolutely and fully open to him and bare your entire soul to the deepest, dead parts of him.

Your gasps are slight, barely heard breaths as he licks you with fervor. In between your legs is Satoru, grinding into the dewy grass in time with the rise and fall of your chest. You throw your head back when Satoru pushes two translucent fingers into you, your slick coating his skin.

You smell ravishing, the pulse of your heart a song in his ears. No wonder Suguru nearly drained you dead the other day.

Satoru groans when you wrap your legs around his hips. It’s not surprising that you intuitively know exactly where he starts and ends. To your eyes, you see nothing but open space in front of you. But you feel his distorted lines pinned against you, pushing you further into the earth.

He wants to savor the image of your parted lips and half-lidded eyes, the heat on your cheeks as he strokes himself and pushes into you. The noise that leaves your throat goes straight to his cock. Do you enjoy being full like this? Stuffed full of his cock and not being able to see it? See him?

“Faster, Satoru,” you mumble, looking straight at his six eyes, “Faster-oh!”

Careful what you ask for. He grins at you wildly, pushing his chest down to yours. He could spit into your mouth if he wanted, it would be so easy to let his spit slide into your wet, warm mouth. Your body jolts with every thrust, tightening as he rubs your clit and spreads your wetness sloppily.

A pearly sheen of sweat coats your sweet skin and if you could see him now, the wolfish look in his eyes would be shining in yours. He presses down against your bottom lip with a ghostly thumb, groaning when you whimper into the open air. It’s quickly silenced when he pushes his finger into your mouth harshly as surprise melts into heat in your eyes.

Satoru can feel Suguru’s eyes on you both, laid out in the grass. He wonders if you can, too.

The slope of your neck is enticing and he must sink his teeth into you. With a breathy gasp, you shudder and clench your walls around him as you cum abruptly. He grins crookedly at you, not that you can see it. You squeeze around him like a velvety vice. Your eyes are mischievous as you roll your hips against him. The rise and fall of your chest is tantalizing- his hand moves of its own volition to wrap around your neck loosely.

As if you are a goddess with a chain to keep you tethered to the earth, to him, you look directly into his eyes and smile.

His hips stutter as he loses rhythm before he pushes into you and stills completely. Satoru whines your name brokenly in your ear before he cums loudly and triggers you to cum once more. You feel full and heavy, sated with the feeling of his thick, gooey cum pooling and mixing with your own wetness.

His eyes widen when you let your hand graze downwards to rub yourself. You taste him on your lips; tangy and sweet. Your smile is lewd, like you’re proud of yourself for seducing him in the open garden with your bare body and honey eyes.

Your skin glistens with the dewy grass that you have claimed to be your bed as the selective sun forms a patch around your head like a halo. In truth, Satoru feels unholy in the way he looks at you, thinks about you.

He drops his head low to kiss you once more, driven by the desire to paint you with himself. To paint brushstrokes of his devotion on every inch of your skin.

It’s so simple to give in to his kiss. To dive into him without worrying about how far the jump is or how far off the cliff you’ll go. You trust that he will catch you, even if you can’t see him.

He is still unseen to you, but your hands are flat against his taut chest as you maneuver yourself on top of him. You throw your head back as you welcome him inside, your wetness coating him like a salve.

Your hips move of their own accord and Satoru lays back to let you take control of him. You lean down to kiss him but your lips hover. As if you want to say something.

This garden of Eden will hear your secrets and here they shall die, you decide. Nothing seems so terrible with the way he fits inside you. You want to give him your mind, body, and soul.

And with this declaration you will. You rotate your hips, coming down on him gently at a slow pace before picking up again. His hands stay idle on your hips as you finally say something-

“I killed him,” you say softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You can’t hear him, and you don’t need to.

“My husband. We just…it fell apart!” you pant, bouncing faster, “what was a girl to do?”

“He never loved me! Never wanted me. Never paid attention to me,” you whisper, “so I killed him. And I ran away. I just wanted to be his one and only…”

“I killed him and you found me,” you sigh breathlessly, moving an arm away to rub your clit furiously. The words have never been said out loud and the secret that remains between you and him has you squeezing around him tightly. “I wish you had been there to see it, Satoru-“

He finishes loudly, without warning and you keep rolling your hips. He pushes your hand away to replace your fingers and rubs you until you finish with him.

You fall onto his invisible chest and sigh happily. He stays unseen, running a hand over your bare back and feeling the mix of your cum and his of you both leaking out of you and onto him. Your words are the words of a lover, confessions and shy smiles bursting at the seam of your lips and into his.

It must be alright, if a gentle spring breeze caresses your back.

Satoru looks at you in awe- how frightened you must have been when you had realized what you’d done. And through all of the strife and turmoil, you still came to him.

That must be divine intervention. After all, he only planned for you to be a momentary blood bag for his lover until your inevitable decay.

The openness of the house, the wall to wall windows, the way the breeze floats inside and coats the house in a gentle chill despite the ongoing storm outside, is comforting to you now. Rather than eerie as it was days ago. Days? Weeks? Months?

An invisible weight is lifted from your chest, one that you didn’t know even existed since you drove away in a frenzy on that cold, rainy night. The memories are almost too painful, but the newfound freedom tastes sweet on your tongue.

“Will you keep me waiting much longer, darling?” Suguru whispers, tracing your cheek with a long finger. You lean into his icy touch and he smiles at you.

Lifting the skirt of your midnight blue robe, he caresses your thigh and smacks it lightly. His grin widens when you yelp and laugh. Oh, he’ll have so much fun with you. What an excitable thing you are, completely defying any expectations he had of you only to enjoy your time in this castle.

A prison without a fence. He expects you won’t try to leave for a long, long time. Not when it took you all of the drama of a poor husband for you to leave in your prior life.

Yes, you are starting a new life, as you’ve indicated to him in the confines of his bedroom before. A new life with him and Satoru, one where you will be free. As free as the rain that falls from the sky.

Your soul is vulnerable, exposed for him to read whenever he desires. All Suguru sees is pure longing and fear. Fear that you will be abandoned once more.

It doesn’t matter. Suguru will make it so that your wishes are fulfilled forever. And once forever ends and you are nothing but an afterthought in his everlasting life, he will be sure to scatter your ashes in the lake by the house.

He will remember you fondly as the girl who killed to find a home in him. But ultimately, this story will not conclude with you in it. No matter how sweet your blood tastes or how you bat your eyelashes at him to get your way or how endearing he finds you as you list out trivial history facts from a time period he never lived in, not even how warm your pussy feels right after he cums inside you-

None of that matters, except for right now. Right now, when you reach for him with warm hands and look at him as if he is not a bloodthirsty creature, but as if he hung the moon in the sky.

“Make you wait? I’d never,” you reply with bright eyes, shifting against the cool sheets to press yourself closer to him. Your eyes flutter in pleasure when he pulls the knot of your robe loose from your waist. He pushes the robe to the side, leaving you open and exposed to him. Suguru purrs against your skin, the noise vibrating against your bare chest. He lifts his head as his eyes turn red and black veins form on his face.

He’s hungry.

Suguru lifts your wrist to his lips, pressing delicate kisses to the still bruised skin there. Most of the bruises have faded by now, anyway, with fresh ones blooming elsewhere. He remembers where each one is- your thighs, your chest, your neck… You don’t bother with covering them, not anymore. Not since you’ve fully accepted the castle in the forest as your home.

His tongue is gentle as he allows his fangs to elongate and brush against the skin of your wrist, like he is asking for permission.

With a soft gasp, you feel his sharpened teeth pierce your skin as he messily drinks from your vein like a man starved. In truth, he has been starved over the last few decades. Starved of a sweetness like you.

In over one hundred years, he can only remember Satoru’s blood tasting so decadent. Filling him up with a sudden unquenched thirst. Suguru wants more of you- and you know it.

He lets go of your wrist, lapping any extra blood that angrily pours out of the small puncture wound with his tongue. With a comforting rub of your skin, he presses kisses down your torso, taking his time in enjoying how you squirm in his tight grasp. Your body moves in waves against his hold, moving with his push and pull.

The familiar pierce of his canines brushes against the fragile skin of your inner thigh, one of his favorite places to drink from. He says he can taste all of your feelings in that exact spot. Suguru doesn’t care about the guttural noises that rip from his throat as he drinks from you, careful to ensure that you don’t nearly faint from blood loss. Again.

Warmth blooms in your belly, uncurling like fairy wings to envelope you in comfort. But really, it’s Suguru’s touch, his mouth, how loved he makes you feel. He says he’s never had blood like yours before and you believe him. You push his head further with your free hand, encouraging him to take more from you.

But he pulls away, blood dripping from his teeth down his chin and onto his chest. You pull him on top of you for a sharp kiss, smearing your own blood on your lips. He tastes metallic with the taste of your blood down his throat. You want to devour him, to see how you taste in his eyes. You never want him to stop looking at you the way he does- as his prized possession, his favorite girl.

“There have been so many women,” Suguru coos, “Has Satoru told you? But you are the only one who stayed.” He drags lithe fingers over your chest, only to use his long nails to cut you. It’s not very deep, but you watch in wonder as ruby red blood blooms on your skin.

He uses his thumb to paint your blood over your skin only to press his finger to your lips and wordlessly tell you to suck.

“You stayed because you love us,” he says in a honeyed voice, “Good girls should be rewarded for their loyalty.”

Suguru reaches over to his nightstand where he pulls out a silver dagger encrusted with jewels. You stare at him as he places it carefully into your hands. What does he want you to do with this?

It dawns on you when you look at the angry lines on your chest. You sit up on your haunches and smile at him, enamored that he entrusts you to this degree.

You hold the dagger, trying to get comfortable with the feel of such a heavy metal in your hands. It’s a foreign weight, necessary for the foreign task that your lover has for you.

“Right here?” you ask quietly, your hand on his chest where you expect his heart would beat.

“Wherever you’d like, darling.”

With no hesitation, you allow the surface of the blade to pierce Suguru’s skin. Dark, burgundy droplets fall from the cut and trickle down his torso. With wide eyes, you look at him, asking him what to do. Instead, he laughs at you, curling a hand around your cheek.

“Is it not obvious?”

He gathers the blood from the cut onto his finger and presses it to your lips once more. You swallow instantly with doe eyes- you will always take whatever he gives you. But you surprise him when you lean forward and press your lips to the blood on his torso and lick, whimpering with each swallow of his blood in your circulatory system.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Suguru says, petting your hair, “Good girl. Do you want more?”

With darkened lips and eager eyes, you nod vigorously. Wanting nothing more than to please him. He takes the dagger back from you and cuts a much deeper wound into his chest, wincing as he does so.

“There you go,” he says, throwing his head back when you latch onto him and drink his blood. It comes to you so easily. The urge to please.

Strangely enough, he tastes like ripened cherries. His moans are soft as you drink from him as you please. He owns you now, whether you realize it or not. Now that you’ve drunk his blood, he is a part of you now.

Until he decides otherwise.

In your new home, you have created the perfect life. You are cherished and desired, not needing to hide the ugly truths about yourself to Suguru and Satoru. You see them with rosy hearts in your eyes, convinced that they have accepted you the way that they have accepted each other.

You refuse to let any seeds of doubt fester. Will they tire of you, the way your husband did? Will they say that you’re too needy, too demanding of their attention?

The words are familiar in your mind but they look at you as if they are enthralled by you. No, you are a part of them as much as they are a part of you. You try your hardest to quell your rising, unfounded fears. It’s you, not them, you convince yourself. It’s you, not them.

Suguru and Satoru are already in the library, waiting for you to join them on the barely sat-in leather couch.

You read your book in silence, the same three paragraphs burned into your eyelids. You can’t focus, not when the two men next to you try to vye for your attention. Despite their lips on your neck and their sweet, seductive words… There is a buzzing in your head that you can’t seem to shake away. It gnaws at you and gnaws at you, even as you succumb to their touches. Even as they drape themselves over you and pull sweet sounds from your throat.

Why don’t they look at you the way they did before? Are you imagining the look of disgust in Satoru’s eyes as he undresses you? Is the boredom on Suguru’s face an unfounded figment of your imagination?

You are desperate for them, for them to bury themselves in you and build a home inside you. For them to keep you and never let you go. With a harsh kiss and bite to their lips, you seal your fate of your own accord.

In the thick of the frigid winter, the seasons change. It no longer downpours everyday- instead, snow covers the forest. Completely untouched and pure in a delicate, white blanket that cradles the earth.

The cold nips at your cheeks as you step outside the castle on the hill. You are dressed only in a thin black robe that rustles with the icy wind. With barren feet, you step into the snow. Hardly registering the way your blood cools with each step or how your teeth begin to shatter.

Despite the clean scent of snow in the air, you still catch the lingering scent of rain.

Loose deep red rose petals that you hold in your arms taint the pristine white snow as if they were drops of blood. The plant life still somehow thrives even in the wintry weather.

It is so quiet, with each step you take hardly making a sound. The world is still as you make your way over to the nearly frozen over darkened lake. It glitters with the pale sun, almost blinding you but you remain undeterred.

It is a chance for rebirth. Revenge. Or is it redemption?

You dip your foot in the lake first. Then, you close your eyes and surrender to the unknowing abyss with nothing more than a silent splash.

Melted snow coats the earth you walk on when your eyes open once more. It must be days later that you breathe the dry air and emerge from the depths of the lake, your robe soaking wet and sticking to your clammy skin.

But you do not feel the cold, nor do you need to breathe air. It’s a leftover reflex from the person you were not even a full week ago.

The door to the castle on the hill is the same as the first day you saw it. When you were running away from your old life. Here you are, embracing your new one.

You knock on the door gently. Once, then twice.

You are met with wide, surprised celestial eyes. Only offering him a grin in return.

“What did you do?” Satoru hisses, yanking you inside by your forearm. He senses the difference in you already, the darkened energy coating your bloodstream. Your heart does not beat at all and your canines have become sharpened fangs in your mirthless smile. Your hands are cold when you paw at his chest. He’s used to cold hands, but yours are unforgiving. A threat when your nails nearly pierce through his skin.

Most of all, blood stains your skin and your teeth when you smile widely at him. Some of it is fresh, still dripping down your neck and some of it is dried along the curve of your jaw and your chest. It reminds him of a lost, wounded wolf. It’s jarring, the sweet smile he is used to is sinister and unforgiving.

It doesn’t suit you, and yet this is what you have chosen. Your laughter is grating in his finely tuned ears, reminiscent of a curse. Is that what this is? Is that what you have become? An immortal curse?

He ignores the trepidation crawling on his skin. Satoru can’t exactly slam the door in your face, can he?

“Come, lover. Let’s find Suguru,” you say with bright eyes, “We have much to catch up on.”

“You were supposed to be nothing but a blood bag for Suguru,” Satoru seethes, “Look what you’ve done-”

“No, please, I did this for you,” you wail, tugging on his shirt, “I want this forever. Don’t you want the same? You said you did!” Doesn’t he see you? Doesn’t he see how much you crave him?

“Enough,” comes Suguru’s voice from behind Satoru. He looks at you, running a thumb over the blood on your skin. Then at the silent, unmoving lake.

He closes his eyes for half a second and sighs, ignoring Satoru’s very purposeful glare at his head.

“I did it for you, Suguru,” you whimper, relaxing when he gathers you in his arms and strokes your hair. He says nothing, instead raising his eyes to meet Satoru’s. Two vampires in the same forest? A newborn vampire, at that?

Suguru is tempted to stake you for your naivete, but refrains from doing so. Sheer bloodlust is what got them into this mess, after all.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says into your hair, but he means for Satoru to hear it, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

The sun sets in brushstrokes on the world, but not on you.

#stsg x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader

398 notes · View notes

asdfghjklmals · 1 year

Text

TO BE PRESENT✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and comfort. WORD COUNT: 4.6k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. boyfriend!gojo. stsg break up.

SYNOPSIS: suguru geto is sentenced to death by the jujutsu society, and oc gojo girlfriend is left to pick up the broken pieces of satoru gojo's heart, but will she be enough? AUTHOR'S NOTE: lots of dialogue from the actual anime/manga. i tried to shorten the dialogue and add lots of emotion and descriptions. in the manga, gojo actually finds megumi and tsumiki after suguru leaves, but in this au, we found the kids first. the vibe is the song ‘no good’ by dvsn. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

suguru geto was the balance to satoru gojo. the yin to his yang. they were vital to each other, mutually complementing each other, needing each other to coexist. there was the calm and rational suguru, and there was the bold and rash satoru. their bond so strong that together, they were known as the strongest.

when you joined the school less than a year ago, it was always 'sashisu'. satoru gojo, shoko ieri, and suguru geto were the three musketeers. they were inseparable. they welcomed you into their little trio with loving arms (it took awhile for satoru, but we're here now).

when you first met suguru, you thought he was the nicest human being you had ever met. you questioned how such a gentle and caring man could be bestfriends with someone like the insolent satoru gojo.

suguru had been acting strange a couple weeks after the incident with toji fushiguro. he looked tired, worn out. almost dissatisfied with how things were going. he questioned himself as if he was going to be left behind in terms of strength and growth as a sorcerer. satoru’s powers were increasing by the day, and if satoru was getting stronger, so were the curses that they had to exorcise. this was draining for suguru, absorbing curses wasn't the most appetizing thing, and it was tiresome to him.

the day that yaga-sensei had brought satoru into his office for a chat was the day you and shoko eavesdropped from outside his office to find out more information about your absent friend. suguru geto had gone missing after his mission in a small village outside of tokyo. the jujutsu society had sent their team to investigate.

“what?” satoru gasped. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“don’t make me repeat myself, satoru… suguru fled after killing everyone in the village.” yaga-sensei buried his face in his hands. he started to massage his temple.

“i heard you, sensei.” satoru sighed in disbelief. there was no way suguru would do that, he knew his bestfriend. at least, he thought he did.

“his parents’ home is vacant as well. however, from the blood stains and residuals… it seems like he might have killed his family.”

yaga-sensei and satoru had no idea what to think. they were also at a loss for words.

**************************************

suguru’s vile act alone would deem him as a curse user and a death sentence was the punishment from the jujutsu society. he was now the enemy. satoru couldn’t believe it, he didn't want to. he slammed his dorm room door shut after he heard the news, leaving you and shoko alone to deal with the aftermath. you had never seen satoru like this since you joined jujutsu high. (a/n: it’s actually a death sentence that’s the punishment, oops!)

“shoko, i—” you were going to start word vomiting out of nervousness.

“(y/n), it’s okay. you don’t have to say anything.” the medical student put her hand on your shoulder. you pulled her in for a hug. you could hear her sigh. she was the bridge between satoru and suguru.

throughout the years of being their friend, shoko ieri was the middle ground, the center, the happy medium. whenever satoru and suguru fought, she was the mediator. whenever they experienced the best of times together, she got to bare witness and experience it with them too. you could say that shoko ieri was the glue to satoru gojo and suguru geto.

“i know where to find suguru. let’s go meet him.” shoko motioned quietly to you.

“should we let satoru know?” you questioned her. you worried about your boyfriend, would he be okay being left alone? should you go to his side to comfort him instead?

“no, let him brood for a bit. he might bite you if you try to open his door.” she teased.

shinjuku, japan

“how did you know he would be here in shinjuku?” you asked shoko, you both watched as suguru walked towards you both. she just smiled before calling out to him.

“need a light?” she asked the banished sorcerer, holding up her lighter.

“hey you two,” he greeted the both of you as if he didn’t commit mass murder two days ago.

“well, well, well, if it isn’t the culprit himself. are all the accusations about you true?” she interrogated him nonchalantly while lighting a cigarette for him.

“i’m afraid they are. shoko, (y/n), i'm going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. and i don’t need everyone to understand that.”

“sulking because no one understands you… sounds childish if you ask me.” shoko took out her phone and dialed a number, “hey, gojo? geto’s here. yeah, me and (y/n) are in shinjuku.” she hung up the phone and turned to you.

“come on, (y/n), we don’t want to get caught in this crossfire.” she took your hand and started to lead you away from suguru.

“hold on,” you let go of her hand and turned to walk back to suguru.

his face full of surprise, “(y/n), what’s on your mind? i’m surprised you’re not with satoru right now.”

he scratched the back of his head with a smile. he knew that satoru relied on you for comfort and solace. you and satoru we’re always with each other. if satoru wasn’t with suguru, he was most likely with you.

“uhm, i—” you stumbled over your words, “i wanted to thank you, uh, for being so nice to me when i joined jujutsu high. you always had my back during our missions together, and you made sure i was okay... you even defended me when satoru was being a jerk to me when i first started at the school. thank you for being his bestfriend. i’m sorry things turned out this way, suguru.” you reached towards him to hug him. this would most likely be the last time you would see him.

suguru hugged you back. you two were still friends after all. you felt a strong, but familiar cursed energy, it gave you the chills. you let go of suguru and patted his chest, giving him a soft smile. you turned to walk away as you saw the face of your distraught boyfriend looking at you.

you looked into his eyes, he wasn’t wearing his typical circular black sunglasses. his eyes were solemn and dull, the opposite from his standard blazing bright blue. his white hair wisped just below his lashes. he didn’t say a word to you, even though you could feel his all emotions wanting to explode from him. you reached for satoru’s hand and gave him a soft, encouraging squeeze. he swallowed as you patted his shoulder and you walked away with shoko. you knew that this was between satoru and suguru, and no one else.

**************************************

“suguru. explain yourself.” satoru called out to his bestfriend.

“you already heard, didn’t you? that’s all there is to it.” suguru said in a very cordial manner.

“that’s all you needed to convince yourself to kill non-sorcerers and your parents?!” satoru couldn’t believe what he was hearing, couldn't fathom what was coming out of suguru’s mouth.

“it wouldn’t be fair if i made an exception for my parents. besides, my family now consists of more than just them.” suguru had thought about the twin girls he had saved from the village. they were the ones he wanted to protect now.

“that’s not what i’m talking about. you were the one who said pointless killing is useless.” satoru was losing his cool. what had happen to his reasonable bestfriend?

“killing all non-sorcerers to make a world of only sorcerers is impossible.” satoru argued.

“you could do it, satoru. you’re trying to convince me that it’s impossible when you yourself could do it if you wanted to.” suguru believed that his goal of making a world of only jujutsu sorcerers was something he could make happen, which is why he was willing to give up everything to do it.

satoru’s eyes widened. what in the world was suguru talking about?

“are you the strongest because you’re satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you’re the strongest?”

“what the hell are you trying to say?!” satoru shouted in frustration. he still wasn't understanding.

“if i could be you, wouldn’t my impossible ideals become possible? this is the life i’ve chosen, all i can do now is give it all i’ve got. if you want to kill me, kill me. there would be meaning in that too.” suguru turned away to start his journey, without satoru by his side.

and that’s where satoru gojo had to make the decision between killing his bestfriend or letting the curse user walk freely. satoru held out his right hand, slowly connecting his thumb and his middle finger. he’d never successfully used this cursed technique before, it was one of the strongest moves in the gojo clan that only a few clan members knew about. hollow purple.

he couldn’t bring himself to do it. he curled his fist and retreated his hand in defeat as he watched as suguru walked away from him in pursuit of his own goals in life. even if that meant that they wouldn’t be present in each other’s anymore.

tokyo jujutsu high

again, you and shoko stood behind the school's front entrance where satoru and yaga-sensei were talking, listening in on their conversation after satoru had returned from shinjuku.

“why did you let him go?” yaga-sensei asked as satoru grumbled on the cold concrete steps of tokyo jujutsu high school.

“are you really asking me that?” satoru couldn’t tell him that he didn't have the guts to kill his bestfriend.

“no, you’re right. i’m sorry.” he apologized. he knew it would be hard for satoru to cope. suguru was his bestfriend after all, his one and only.

“sensei... i’m strong, right?” he asked his teacher.

“yes, you are. in the impudence department too.” yaga-sensei bantered with him.

“it seems like just me being strong isn’t enough. i can only save those who want to be saved.” satoru said while looking out into the distance. he was tired of being the one who had to do all the saving. he wished he could ask for help. he didn't want to be alone anymore.

later that night

you made sure that megumi and tsumiki were sleeping soundly before you left your dorm room to return to satoru's. it had been three months since satoru brought them home to you, and two weeks since suguru had left the school.

things between you and satoru had felt strained due to the lack of communication. however, he never failed to show you affection in a hug or a kiss, or even just by holding hands. you felt the tension climbing, distance between you both growing. even though you slept next to him in his bed every night, it still felt cold. the warmth from the love you two shared had started to die down.

you understood that suguru meant the world to satoru. he was important to him, he loved him. one of your very first conversations as a couple was about the people he cared about in his life, he mentioned shoko and suguru's name. that was also the night he told you that you were one of them too. someone that he cared about.

"can't sleep?" satoru softly asked. your tossing and turning must have kept him awake.

"i'm worried about you." you knew he was going to deflect in 3... 2... 1—

"well, you don't have to worry about me, babe. i'm fine." satoru downplayed his emotions and you hated it.

"you are not fine, satoru." you argued as you stared at the popcorn ceiling above you.

you could feel his eyes studying you, he shifted his body to face you. "whoa, what's with the government name and attitude?" he joked.

"now's not the time for jokes. i'm being serious. we need to talk." you sat up in his bed abruptly.

he could hear in your tone that something was upsetting you. "what's wrong, (y/n)?"

"everything…” you whispered quietly.

tears started to form in your eyes. satoru sat up in his bed, the tone of your voice alarmed him. his heart started to race as he felt an uncertain feeling in his chest. was this fear he was feeling?

"you aren't okay and you won't admit it. it's distracting you from being present. you missed tsumiki's dance recital at school, you forgot to pick up the kids two days ago, and you aren't all there when we spar at jujutsu practice. i've never been able to land any of my cursed techniques on you before, and you got hurt because of that."

satoru had been so absentminded and distracted that you caught him off guard with his infinity off, your ice shard grazed his arm during the spar. you had to heal him with your reversed cursed energy that day.

"and what hurts the most is that i can feel you shutting me out every time i try to talk to you. i'm supposed to be your partner in life, satoru. i don't want you to push me away. if you’re not okay, i’m not okay.” you expressed as tears streamed down your face.

satoru didn't have any words to say, no excuses to come up with. he acknowledged that you tried to talk to him multiple times since suguru had left, but he didn't want to add more to your plate. you were taking care of the kids, taking on missions alone, all while trying to keep up with your studies to make sure you made it to graduation. he didn't want to burden you any more with his ridiculous bestfriend drama.

"i'm not allowed to be sad or weak. i have to be strong, (y/n). i don't have time to be caught up in my emotions." satoru said. you swear you heard his voice waver even though he was trying to 'be strong'.

"just because people call you the strongest, you think you can’t be sad or weak? satoru, that doesn't mean you can't confide in me. i promised you that i would be there for you. for whatever you need." you wiped your tears.

"satoru..."

"yeah, baby?"

"do you love me?"

"of course i do. i love you so much." satoru replied quietly.

"then can you just tell me what you're feeling right now?" you asked through your quivering voice.

and for the first time in 18 years, satoru gojo did not have any words to say. not a joke. no innappropriate comment. not a speck of sarcasm. nothing. he couldn't tell you how he felt, as much as he wanted to scream and shout and tell you how he was hurting and that he didn't want to be alone. the little voice in the back of his head told him not to, that he didn't deserve to.

you have had enough tonight. you got up from your side of the bed and put on your jujutsu high robe, "i think i should go check up on the kids." tears still streaming down your cheek as you quickly brushed them away. satoru couldn't even watch you leave his room. he knew that once you left his room tonight, you wouldn’t be coming back to it. the door shut behind you and he felt his heart breaking more.

**************************************

you opened the door to your room quietly, trying not wake up the kids, but megumi was a light sleeper. he woke up instantly and looked at you. tsumiki was a heavy sleeper and nothing could wake her up. you sniffled and collected yourself. you didn’t want him to know you were crying.

“(y/n), did you and gojo-sensei fight?” megumi rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand to wake himself up. he shifted his body over to make room for you on your king sized bed.

"that obvious, huh?" you scoffed.

you thanked god that megumi and tsumiki were still tiny and that three people could fit on your bed or you'd be sleeping with shoko right now. you laid down next to megumi and got under the covers. he was the most observant 5 year old ever. megumi was intelligent, calculated, and strong. gojo had a blast training with him. you both knew he was going to be an amazing sorcerer when he grows up.

“there are just some things that we aren’t agreeing on right now, megumi.” you patted his head, his blue hair slipping through your fingers.

“i think he just needs some time alone to think. he's been busy.” the child spoke on behalf of satoru.

“busy enough that he forgot to pick you guys up from school?” you were so angry with him for that. it was his job to pick them up that day because you were on a mission.

“it’s okay, we just called nanami to pick us up.” megumi tried defending him with his own little peculiar statement. you never thought you’d see the day megumi would be defending satoru.

“it’s not okay, megumi. i want him to be there for you and tsumiki. like we promised. i want him to be present.”

the next morning

the next morning was awkward and the air was still filled with tension. satoru always accompanied you to get the kids ready for school. he knocked on your dorm door to find you doing tsumiki’s hair while megumi was sitting patiently, waiting for you two to finish.

“oh… you guys got started already.” he said, trying to hide the hurt. he felt a little betrayed as this was supposed to be your morning routine together.

“here, you finish putting the clips in her hair.” you gave him the jar full of different colored butterfly clips and got up to retreat to your bathroom so you could finish getting ready.

satoru sighed and looked at tsumiki and megumi. they were awfully quiet this morning, their usual selves would be chirping back and forth at each other. laughter was always present in your morning routine, but not today.

“she’s still mad at me, huh?” satoru asked the children.

tsumiki smiled awkwardly at him and nodded while megumi snapped at him, “just tell her how you feel, idiot.”

“whoa, what’s with the attitude, megumi?” satoru asked, he was surprised with the 5 year old’s tone.

“i just don’t like seeing (y/n) cry.” satoru knew that you were megumi's favorite guardian, in fact, everyone knew.

“yeah? me either, kiddo.” satoru frowned. he attached two pink butterfly clips in tsumiki’s hair. he heard you shuffling through your bathroom drawers, afraid to turn around to face you once you exited the bathroom.

he took a deep breath and looked over at you. he could see through your makeup that your eyes were still swollen from crying last night, skin glowing from the flushed cheeks. god, how could you still look so beautiful after crying?

“ready for breakfast?” you asked your unconventional family. tsumiki smiled and nodded, trying her best to brighten up the room. megumi grabbed your hand to hold (and comfort) as he led the way to the dining hall. satoru felt envious that it wasn’t him holding your hand instead. but what could he do?

later that afternoon

after you dropped the kids off at school, you and satoru walked back through the jujutsu high courtyard. the cobblestone walkway felt cold and the surrounding trees felt like they were about to swallow the both of you into a dark abyss. the only thing you could hear was the wind and your soft footsteps.

you and satoru didn’t hold hands. you didn’t even link your arm through his like you usually did. and he sure felt the bitterness from you today. you walked side by side together. the silence was deafening until you broke it.

“satoru… i’m going to take megumi and tsumiki back with me to my clan’s estate for the semester break… and i don’t think i want you to come with us. i’ll tell touya you’re going to see your family instead.” you held back your tears. satoru stopped in his tracks, you were two steps ahead of him.

“but baby, i—” he began to say.

you turned around to face him, “ever since suguru left, you’ve changed. you’ve been distant, you avoid every conversation i try to have with you. and you’re the type of person who always tries to talk things out right away… even though you know i'm usually the one that needs time. so now, i’m giving you the time you need so you can decide what you want to do with your life and where your priorities lie…”

“that’s not fair, (y/n).” satoru snapped at you. how could you take the kids and leave him alone?

“what’s not fair to you?!” you lashed back at him. you saw the defeated and distraught look in his face and it crushed you. it was the same expression he had when he spoke with suguru in shinjuku.

“just—don’t. don’t start crying again.” he mumbled. it was always game over for him when you started crying. seeing you cry was one of the worst feelings next to his favorite kikufuku stand running out of his favorite flavor. it was too late, the tears started to flow again.

satoru took a step closer towards you, testing out the waters on if you would let him approach you or if you would push him away. once he didn’t sense any resistance from you, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you so tightly you couldn’t breathe. he didn't want to let go. everyone knew that you couldn’t be without each other, so why was he feeling like you were leaving him behind, just like suguru did?

when he finally loosened his arms around you, you gently caressed his cheek with your left hand. satoru had finally felt your warmth again. he melted into your hand and closed his eyes. you could see a layer of tears forming on his white lashes.

you kissed his cheek and softly said, “take the time you need to figure things out during the semester break. me and the kids will be here when you get back. i promise.”

two weeks later

satoru had spent two weeks with his own clan during the semester break. it was refreshing for him to speak with his clan elders to get a little insight on what he could work on next, he spent time perfecting his techniques, and just finally relaxed for once. during this time to himself, he was able to combine blue and red to perform a successful hollow purple. he even mastered his long distance teleportation. there was one person who he couldn't wait to tell about his success, it was you.

although he was busy training and enjoying the time with his own clan, he spent a lot of time thinking about suguru's betrayal and how to be present for the kids like you had asked him to. but there was one thing person that wouldn’t leave his mind, it was you.

after a couple days of brooding, satoru came to the conclusion that he would never get over suguru's actions, but he knew that he wanted to be better than suguru. he was going to become a teacher at jujutsu high as soon as his third year was over, and he was going to raise strong and intelligent allies. with no hesitation, he knew who his first ally would be, it was you.

satoru still felt like he was missing something someone in his life, even though he was surrounded by his clan. you, megumi, and tsumiki were 6 hours away in osaka with your clan, but satoru still felt like his heart was 247 miles away (the distance between osaka and tokyo). he knew what his heart was missing, it was you.

satoru gojo didn’t care for many things in life. he kept his circle small, his family was very prominent but low key, and he was pretty private about his own life. he didn’t care about protecting anyone until he met you, (y/n) from the osaka (l/n) clan. the most beautiful water and ice cursed technique user he had ever laid his pretty blue eyes on. satoru was never shy at telling you he loved you, but today was the day he realized just how much he did. satoru called out to his grandparents before he teleported to your clan's estate, "gramps, grams, i'm heading out to (y/n)'s. we'll see you at the next semester break. and we'll bring tsumiki and megumi to meet everyone too!"

satoru gojo knew who he wanted to see, and it was you.

osaka, japan

"(y/n)!" tsumiki cried out for you frantically.

you rushed out of your family's minka to see what the 6 year old was shrieking about. your heart skipped a beat to see a white-haired, blue-eyed sorcerer holding her in his arms as she was hugging him tightly. tsumiki had the biggest smile on her face. she had missed her partner in crime these past two weeks... you and her both.

"(y/n), it's gojo-sensei! he came to see us!" she waved towards you, signaling that satoru was there and for you to come over quickly. satoru was actually here. he was present.

your brother looked at you and smiled, "it looks like someone missed you, sis." he patted your shoulder before standing up from the steps of the minka, "i'll have the housekeepers get a spare room ready for him."

you smiled at your brother as he left your side. you stood on the steps of your family estate. your hand perched on your hip, a laugh breaking through to show your pearly whites, hiding your eyes with your cheeky smile. it had been awhile since satoru saw the smile that he loved so much.

you gave up your solid front and started walking towards satoru. he put tsumiki down and did the same. soft footsteps started to turn into a brisk walk, the brisk walk started to turn into a sprint, the sprint towards each other turned into a colliding embrace.

"what are you doing here, satoru?" you mumbled in his chest as you tried to catch your breath from your sprinting.

"i missed you, (y/n)." satoru said with his eyes closed, inhaling your scent. he missed your nectarine and honey blossom perfume that always lingered around him too.

"i missed you too."

satoru leaned down to kiss your forehead. you smiled softly as his lips trailed down to your temple and then to your cheek. you held his face with your hands and pulled him in for a kiss on his soft pink lips. he broke your kiss to look down at you. he had something he wanted to say.

"babe, the past two weeks i took a lot of time for myself to think. the one common denominator that always came to my mind was you. i'm sorry for the way i acted. i'm going to try my best to communicate with you from now on. i won't leave you in the dark anymore." satoru pledged with his heart.

"thank you, satoru." you whispered. you held him a bit tighter.

"you pinky promise?" megumi asked out of the nowhere. you and satoru looked down at the blue haired child with tsumiki by his side. you both started laughing as your intimate moment was interrupted by your adopted children. (read ‘pinky promises’ here)

satoru flashed his signature grin at megumi, "yeah, i pinky promise, kiddo."

megumi and tsumiki approached you both to join in on the family group hug. you and satoru crouched down to embrace them as you kissed the top of their heads.

satoru softly said to the kids, "from now on, i promise to be present."

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

1K notes · View notes