What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation đ„Č his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying đ
little voice â gojo satoru x f!reader
youâre on a girlsâ vacation. itâs okay. itâs cool.
but it isnât.
throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.
his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion andâas expected of a child of gojo satoruâfull of mischief.
they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.
satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it shouldâve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.
for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.
he thought itâs too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.
so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.
a shameful failed trial at that.
in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!
so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his sonâs smile is worth the world.
âŠexcept maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.
and come home you did and to all this mess.
swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.
then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after youâve put the kids to sleep.
satoru could swear that he couldnât fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.
so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, âhey my sweet cute honeypieââ
you simply quirk an eyebrow.
and he falls to his knees, âI am sorry! I just couldnât resist his puppy eyes! you shouldâve seen them; he looked so cute!â
âI saw them a million times before he was even born, âtoru.â
your husband gasps, âhow!?â
âour son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.â
so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isnât apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.
like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed pandaâs little tail beingâgod knows whyâon fire, not even panda himself.
that was until your precious son tugged at your husbandâs shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), âpapa, panda fire.â
satoruâs eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, âoh shit, youâre right!â
âbad word!â
âsorry!â
however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, âsomethingâs being cooked.â then he looked at his tail, âoh itâs me.â
hit the panic button.
âI am being cooked!â he screams and starts running around, âpanda meat doesnât taste good; I promise!â
the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, âdonât eat me!!â
âno one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!â maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.
your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his handsâconsidering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.
ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.
âhello?â
âpanda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!â he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, âalso s/n is trying to eat the grass.â
âwhat?!â
and like lightning, youâre on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.
you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, âeveryone stop! and panda get over here!â
âyes maâam!â
he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his âfieryâ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.
your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.
and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.
he beams, âwifey, yet again you save the day!â
he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, âhave I told you how much I love you?â
âI was gone for 3 minutes.â
âI havenât?!â he gasps, completely ignoring you, âI am a terrible husband!â
he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a âdisrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesnât tell his wife just how much he loves herâ.
anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleepâa process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.
when he stops âreminiscing â, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.
now, youâre not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.
he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.
satoru was never fond of silenceâthe type that feels so heavy on the heartâeven when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.
he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but thatâs a story for another time though.
opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.
if thereâs anything he will rub in suguruâs face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.
he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couchâhe is overreacting youâre only gone for three days.
so, he decides, itâs time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.
the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.
that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dadâs eyes to snap open.
he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, âd/n, whatâs wrong, honey?â
he softly cradles her in hisâgiganticâarms and starts rocking her slowly. âitâs okay; papaâs here,â he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesnât register his voice yet.
she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.
satoruâs expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughterâs cries. then itâs almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.
your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.
your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dadâs chest and murmurs, âI want mama.â
almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the airâreaching for you.
satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/nâs shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, âme too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?â
a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, âyeah.â
satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, âthatâs my champ.â
s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dadâs embrace.
so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, ânow what are we going to do with you, little missy?â
your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sisterâs tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.
then s/n presses on the teddy bearâs chest and it plays a little voice message from you:
âhey sweetie! mama loves you, so donât worry about those nightmares! I am always here.â
your daughterâs eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, âma!â
satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, âso you had that all along?â
s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel butâoh she fell asleep.
looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.
he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?
he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.
with no blanket.
no pillow.
not even his favorite cushion.
but he wasnât raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when youâre back. it will feel better that way in any case.
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âËâčïœĄ âlet's play it again | geto suguru
wc: 1.6k
summary: you donât see why this good thing should end, so you negotiate.Â
contains: implied f!reader but no pronouns used, non-curse!au, fuckboy!suguru, vague descriptions of sex
a/n: a part 2 to fuckboy!suguru inspired by those reels/tiktoks of couples capturing confessions in photo booths đ„ș + an early birthday gift for @irisintheafterglow!! he's a lil softie in this one đ„ș i hope you like it my dear iris!!
part 1 <- you are here
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Thereâs a reason why Suguru always winsâ
At the slightest indication of a loss, he withdraws, slipping out at just the right time before itâs considered a forfeit.Â
In this game with you, he removes himself quietly, like a ghost haunting your memories. Itâs the day after the seventh time heâs spent the night when he cuts contact. Calls, texts, everything.Â
You donât understand any of it; what you had was goodâmessages you canât stop replying to, scratches down the length of his spine, fingers threading through the silk strands of his hair; that kind of good. You donât see why it should end, donât want it to.Â
So you negotiate.Â
Bundled up in your favorite coat and the scarf he never returned for, you corner him in the crisp chill of an autumn afternoon. Heâs wearing that damn leather jacket again, black turtleneck high to hide his skin from what you hope is the cold and not from you.Â
His gaze continues to reel you in, obsidian pools you could sink into. He still smells of apple and tonka bean; you know the cedarwood wonât hit until heâs walked away, trailing the air he passes through.Â
There is so much you know about the man in front of you, how he hides his surprise by clenching his jaw; Suguruâs tell is never his eyes, itâs his lipsâits sudden movements, the lift of a smirk down to the constriction of his throat.
âDid I do something wrong?â you ask, brows furrowed and arms crossed, a little anxious.
âNot at all.â
He swallows his lies every time he utters them, does it twice when heâs nervous.Â
His Adam's apple bobs two times.Â
(He doesnât tell you your mistake: that you made it so easy to want mornings and nights spent entirely with you).Â
So, you negotiate a rematch; a deal to go back to the way things were.Â
If by the end of the next six months, neither of you want anything to do with the other, he wins and youâll never speak to him again. But if you winâ
He agrees.
(If he nips it at the bud, proves there isnât anything more to this feeling and gets over you before he ever has to, then itâs a whole world of pain heâs avoidingâa whole web of attachment heâs never been used to making).Â
.
The rematch finds you learning a new side to Suguru.
Heâs still charming, eyes dark and voice honey smooth when he speaks. His hands still know you best between your sheets, grabbing hold of your hips and molding you as he squeezes the flesh when you reach your peak.
Thereâs still freshly made tea sitting on the kitchen counter when you wake the morning after, its temperature the perfect warmth you know heâs mastered. Dinners are still your favorite, and he continues to lean in instead of asking you to speak louder.
Your contact is in his favorites, everyone else unanswered.Â
Heâs still the same Suguru, exceptâ
The apples of his cheeks flush warm pink when you call him cute instead of handsome; he stutters the first time he sees you dressed up for the new year countdown. And when he lingers those few seconds before kissing you, you swear you catch the corners of his lips curve up into a small smile.Â
He stays awake for a bit after sex. You know because you feel him next to you, finger feather light as it trails down the slope of your nose to your lips; then he kisses your forehead, completely innocent, pure, as if he wasnât just inside you.Â
Itâs a softness to him heâs never shown you before, less mysterious and more genuine.Â
You learn that he keeps mementos and photos all over his room, either aesthetically displayed or safely tucked inside boxes; that he holds onto the things that remind him of the people heâs let in his life, even when theyâre goneâespecially when they are.
He loves snacking, biscuits with tea especially, nuts second, and fruits third. When he reaches over one afternoon, cracker pinched between his fingers to feed you so casually, you freeze momentarily.Â
But you shake it off quickly, biting it from his fingertips while you smile brightly. The Suguru you know always looks at you directly, but this one coughs before blinking one time too many.Â
He swallows twice.
(The voice in his head tells him thisâll do the trick; heâs bared himself to you, mr. mysterious and cool signed out and replaced with none other than just plain Suguru).Â
âyou like him even more now, you think.Â
.
On the fifth month of this whole ordeal, you bring Suguru to a photobooth.Â
You figure that if he wins, at least heâll have this remembrance of you.
Itâs old fashioned, one of those booths that only print in black and whiteâa time capsule of nostalgia, a place that feels of love captured through stills in time.Â
You tell him itâs a late birthday gift from you, a last hurrah for your cutest winter outfits. The end of a season before a new one begins.Â
Velvet slips through your fingers as you push the curtain to the side, and you bow your head to step in with Suguru close behind. The set-up is fairly simple: a bench, the camera, a touch screen to keep it modernized. You can take a total of eight shots, to be printed later into two strips of fourâone for you and one for him, you figure.Â
Itâs a bit cramped when you settle into the seat, soft cushion sinking further once Suguru follows next to you; for a man over 6 feet, dressed loosely in wide pants and layers of blazers, youâre surprised he even managed to squeeze himself to fit in this tiny space.Â
You zip your jacket up until the collar, fleece tickling the corners of your fingertips. The earmuffs youâre wearing act as a perfect statement piece while simultaneously keeping your hair from flying.
Itâs a bit unsettling, but Suguruâs been quiet since you got hereâwatching, observing.Â
(Even while youâre setting up the timer, suggesting poses heâs nodding off to, he focuses on you entirely, tilting his head subconsciously.
Youâve been heavy on his mind latelyâall the little things about you he canât help but notice more intently.Â
You must be the sunâs lover, how your eyes seem to reflect every beam of it, warming him even in the winter. Heâll never understand what you mean when you say you hate how your hair looks in the morning, baby hairs sticking up and curling around the edges of your forehead; to him, you always look lovely. Thereâs honesty, in every breath and word you give himâsomething heâs not used to, something he isnât well versed in.Â
Since giving this another shot, heâs tried to shake you off, put down his front to show you a Suguru so far from the one you know, from the one that first attracted youâall in the hopes of you dropping him.Â
Of you conceding to make him win.Â
But heâs realizingâ
You call him cute when heâs only ever been handsome. And you laugh at his jokes, all the good but especially the bad ones too; youâve been complicit to one or two pranks on Satoru. Sometimes at night, he clings onto your body, tucking you within him and draping his leg across your hip boneâheâs a human furnace but you let him engulf you entirely.Â
He doesnât expect you to remember that he loves soba, that heâs dreamt of perfecting all forms of martial arts since he was seven. He doesnât expect you to remember that he prefers hot showers, so he can step out on the tiles to feel contrast so strikingly cold.Â
You shouldnât know this much about him, and yet you do.Â
âthereâs no one else heâs been this genuine with.Â
So when you peer at him smiling, earmuffs resting cozily by your ears, his eyes soften, face relaxing as the corners of his lips curve up into a small grin.Â
Flash!
He says it, mouth forming the syllables around his words. You tilt your head, confused, eyebrows furrowing because you canât hear him.Â
Flash!Â
His hand reaches for you, pushing your earmuffs to slide down the back of your head. It lands to rest around your neck.
Flash!
âYou win.â he says, loud enough to fill the space of the booth.Â
You still donât quite get it, brow raised in puzzlement.Â
Flash!
So he grabs your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours before he repeats himself again.
âI said, you win.âÂ
And the look on your face when it registers, how your eyes glisten like glints on a sunshower; how you give him the prettiest smile that has his heart running for miles.Â
Heâs confident heâll always remember this version of you, thankful that he has evidence of it as the camera goes off into anotherâ
Flash!
Tears well up in your lash line; one blink and theyâll fall. Youâre smiling so hard he wonders if your cheeks are hurting, if youâll want him to massage them the way you smooth out the knots between his shoulder blades.Â
Your hands remove themselves from his, only to replace the heat on his face.
Flash!
Then you kiss him, lips crashing onto his. you taste of pomegranateâthe lip gloss he canât resist.Â
His hand finds its way around your waist, spreading itself to support your back as he dips you, pressing against you harder. While his fingers slot themselves in the junction between your ear and jaw, your hands fall to his chest, gripping the lapels of his blazer.Â
Lips smacking, sliding. A breathy smile.Â
Flash!
When you part, his forehead rests against yours, the proximity holding you nose-to-nose.Â
Suguruâs never felt this kind of peaceâhe hopes the camera captures it, how contentment looks on his face in moments like this with you.Â
Flash!)
.
You step out of the photobooth hand-in-hand, collecting the photo strips from the dispenser; itâs your souvenir after all, a tangible evidence to remind you of the deal you madeâ
âif you win, heâs yours.
thank you notes: @mididoodles for helping me through this đ„ș + @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for all the support always!! + @mysugu @soumies bc when i think of sugu i think of u both... đ€§
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated âĄ
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"You."
You blink at him from where you are lying on the couch, holding both of your arms out while you innocently bat your eyes as Gojo stares down at you with a belligerent look on his face.
"You."
Gojo stalked forward to poke your forehead, a betrayed look on his face as he gestured to you.
"You traitor!"
You cough out a laugh, watching as Gojo paces around the room a heartbroken look on his face as he wildly gestures to the air-
" 'Toru, babe, chillou-"
"Do not talk to me! I am so angry at you, so shush!"
"Bu-"
"AH- BEh- Nope- nope- nope- you will never ever be forgiven for this grave deed!!!!"
Gojo turned away from you, his back tense as he sniffled, crossing his arms as you laughed behind his back.
"We're getting a divorce."
You laughed even harder, adjusting the stuffed blue dinosaur that you were cuddling with so that it seemed to be looking at Gojo with a judgmental look.
"You know you'd run right back into my arms-"
"SHUSH DO NOT CONTAMINATE MY BRAIN WITH YOUR LIES. traiTOR!"
This time you had to laugh at the voice crack that littered his last words as he turned back to you, stalking forward to rip the dinosaur from your arms, tossing it into the kitchen while he scowls down at you, slightly faltering when he saw your innocent grin.
And that innocent grin made him dive into your arms.
"OW SHI- JESUS YOUR HEAVY 'TORU GET OFF OF ME-"
Gojo huffed and slightly adjusted his posture, his arms tightening around you as he felt your hands resting on your head, only to gently comb through the snow-white strands.
"Only I get to cuddle with you! You know that!!"
You smirk as Gojo looks up at you with his ethereal blue eyes, combing his hair with a hum and poking his nose with your nail.
"It's just a stuffed animal-"
"I don't care! I don't like it and I hate it."
"You were the one who gave it to me 'Toru..."
Shifting a little bit, Gojo hummed out a happy tune as you continued to scratch his scalp.
Almost like a dog.
A very clingy dog.
"I don't care. Throw it away."
He said indignantly only to relax as you reached forward to press a kiss to his temple.
"....or keep it. Just don't cuddle with it from now on!"
You scoff as he rests his head on your chest, his breaths slowing to match yours.
"Am I still a traitor? Are we still getting a divorce?"
"Yes. You are a traitor. You are forgiven but I still need more cuddles!"
You sigh as you feel your leg fall asleep as minutes tick by.
Gojo was so lucky that you loved him.
And he knew that better than anyone else.
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itâs easy to think that satoruâs body runs cold because of how he looks. with hair as white as snow and the icy blue of his eyes, and porcelain skin to contrast the dark colors of the uniform he wears
so youâre pretty surprised to find out that itâs actually quite the opposite â his hands are warm when you hold them for the first time, warm like how his cheeks get when you finally kiss him. his body radiates so much heat that heâs like your own personal heater in the cold mornings, the same ones where he has you nestled into his chest and listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. he looks like he runs cold but he is just chock-full of warmth. so, so much warmth and light and love
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i dream, now, of a normal life with you ; suguru geto
synopsis; suguru isnât a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk â though maybe it shouldnât come as a surprise that heâd be the sappy kind.
word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <;33
a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <;33
the bar isnât all that far off from your apartment.
itâs a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then youâll be able to see the blue of the sea. once youâre there, all thatâs left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.
which is what youâre currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue â the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguruâs in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesnât smell like him anymore.
humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content.Â
you were so, so bored â stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru youâd be okay on your own.
he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that heâd prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because itâs been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways.Â
so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.
but everything worked out in the end.
a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. itâs been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguruâs insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work â just in case.
but today, the skies were clear, and itâs late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if theyâre waving. you resist the urge to wave back.
peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.
eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.
messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.
sho đŹ: come get ur man
sho đŹ: heâs drunk.
sho đŹ: like DRUNK drunkÂ
you: âŠâŠ um.Â
you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???
sho đŹ: no time for that. look
sho đŹ: [ image ]
sho đŹ: he looks so goofy lol
unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen â opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug.Â
like a sleepy puppy.
a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes.Â
heâs drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because heâs cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when heâs obviously wasted. itâs almost funny â you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that itâs a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?
suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. thatâs just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.
so, to be frank â the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but itâs also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when youâre bored out of your mind.
(or maybe youâre just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)
you: NOOOOÂ
you: MY BABY đđđ
you: what did u guys DO to him???
sho đŹ: satoru and him made a bet đ you know how they are
sho đŹ: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful
you: âŠ.
you: have i told you that youâre both terrible
sho đŹ: u love us <33
sho đŹ: anyway heâs been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i canât stand him
sho đŹ: heâs crying.
you: HUH????????
you: WHY????????????????
sho đŹ: dude i dont know
sho đŹ: please come get him heâs being so sappy that satoruâs abt to throw up
you: ???? okok đ
you: im omw ig??
sho đŹ: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life đ
an exhale â laced with deep amusement â drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.
slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.
no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.
you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics.Â
so there isnât any time to waste. youâre walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds.Â
and when you step in through the opened door, youâre immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. itâs over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.
satoru notices you first.
a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shokoâs gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours â and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you canât see her smile, but thereâs a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that youâd never miss.
âhey, guys.â
âyo!â satoru chirps, beaming in a way thatâs so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguruâs cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here!Â
and there he is.Â
the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition â even in the drunken state heâs in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor.Â
he doesnât even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence.Â
and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.
itâs precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky.Â
a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you canât help but mirror it.Â
(gosh, heâs cute.)
with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoruâs amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.
it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder.Â
âbaby,â he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. âsweetheart. my angel.â
a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.Â
heâs too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoruâs overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when itâs tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking heâs been doing until now.Â
you crinkle your nose, but donât let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. âhey, sugu.â
suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent â heâs just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when itâs tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.
âmissed youâŠâ he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. âi love you sâmuchâŠâ
a chuckle. âi love you too,â you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. âyou really are drunk, arenât you?â
âmmâŠâ he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ââm sorryâŠâ he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.
instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. âitâs fine, sugu. câmon â letâs go home, alright?â
at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguruâs discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.
âiâll help you carry him,â he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes.Â
a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.
âiâll stay here,â she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. âheâs your problem now.â
âgot it.â you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.
finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. âsee you later, shoâ.â
a smile is the only response you get, but itâs enough. itâs her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely.Â
with one arm over satoruâs shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.
âshokoâŠâ he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. âdonât drink too much. and watch out for strangersâŠâÂ
he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.
âi donât need to hear that from you,â she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what youâre almost certain is embarrassment. thereâs a fondness to her snark, one youâd never miss.Â
(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguruâs concern, even if she doesnât want to show it.)
âalright, câmon,â satoru quips, slapping suguruâs back with a grin. âthere, there, big guy. letâs get you home, hm?â
just as you suspected, he doesnât let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps â while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm.Â
cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. âthere we go.â
suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.
you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. âthanks, satoru,â you smile, meeting his gaze.
âdonât mention it,â he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. âcan you bring him back by yourself?â
âyeah, weâll be fine. itâs close, anyway. donât worry.â
a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then heâs looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.
âiâll go back to shoko, then,â he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. âgotta make sure she stays out of trouble.â
a chuckle. you mirror his smile. âof course.â
and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve â keeping him still.
satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental.Â
his gaze cuts to the bone of things. itâs something youâve grown used to.
âthanks, satoru,â he murmurs, letting go of said manâs shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. âyouâre my best friend.â
a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.
satoru blinks.
then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers.Â
âyeah, yeah. i got it,â he pats suguruâs shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. âyouâre such a sap, you know that? geez.â
a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ânot gonna call him your best friend back?â you tease, a soft tilt of your head.
satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you canât physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. âdonât add fuel to the fire,â he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.
before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.
âtake care of him, alright?â
âi will. you guys have fun!â
and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.
âbye-bye, satoru,â he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. âi love you!â
âgo home already!â satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that youâll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.
(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesnât want to say it out loud.)
with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguruâs arm. âalright,â you chirp, looking up at him. âletâs go!â
he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; heâs stumbling a bit, but you donât mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.
suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. heâs a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6â2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.
a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. itâs impossible, though â so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile youâre wearing. âyou okay, suguru?â
his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours.Â
he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat.Â
âiâm just so happy,â he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.
suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.
you nudge him, softly, with the arm thatâs tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. âyou know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.â
suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but itâs just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful â this blessed.
a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. âiâm so lucky.â
a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like heâs seeing something that isnât quite there.
âi have satoru and shokoâŠâ he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if heâs tasting the words on his tongue, as if he canât quite believe them himself. thatâs how lucky he feels, sometimes.
a nod. âthey love you a bunch, you know?â
(they do. theyâre both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they donât really even need to, in the first place.)
suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. âand i love them, too.â his smile grows. âtheyâre my best friends.â
absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. thereâs something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.
ââ and i have you.â
a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you canât avert your gaze â suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he canât believe youâre real.Â
he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat.Â
a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesnât need any words. his smile is serene.
âmy angel.âÂ
as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. âiâm the luckiest guy in the world.â
and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears.Â
suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you â but isnât this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. itâs tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but theyâre honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe thatâs enough.Â
âweâre the luckiest in the world, too, then,â you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. âsince we have you.â
suguru looks into your eyes. thereâs starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, itâs all he can think. youâre his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.
(youâre so, so pretty.)
a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.
â he boops your nose.
you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. âyouâre so cute, baby.â
silence. you look up at him.Â
then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than youâd like to admit. god. okay, heâs really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.
you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. âalright, alright. câmon,â you beckon, slightly gruff. âweâre almost there.â
when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.
after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguruâs does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend.Â
with him clinging to you like this, itâs almost suffocating â but you truly donât mind. suguruâs warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. itâd be annoying if he wasnât so cute, if he wasnât suguru geto, if you werenât so horrendously weak for him.
what you donât know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isnât just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one heâs been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; heâs a man on a mission.
but heâs patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when youâre finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.
â you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.
a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguruâs mind canât quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesnât understand why he isnât pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why heâs kissing the skin of your palm. he doesnât understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesnât understand.
all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day.Â
âwell, itâs justâŠâ you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. âyou know. since youâve been drinking, and allâŠâ
and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.
suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.
âbutâŠâ he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. âi wanna kiss youâŠâ
a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, heâs being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really donât want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.
so you settle for the second best option.
ââm sorry, sugu,â you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.
the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. âtomorrow, okay?âÂ
and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. theyâre a little sloppy, but you donât mind.
it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, thereâs nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles â and suguruâs smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.
the state heâs in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he canât feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks youâre so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever.Â
but you have other plans.
and before you know it, youâre both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, itâd be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. heâs like a furnace.Â
but right now, itâs a little tough. youâre kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. itâs sweet, but heâs being far too distracting â as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and youâre jolted awake once more.Â
âsuguuu,â you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. âwe need to sleepâŠâ Â
âsorry,â he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesnât stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. âjusâ love you so muchâŠâ
suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state heâs fully aware that heâs in â but he just canât seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and itâs unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguruâs heart fills up just a little more.Â
your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you.Â
in the midst of his feverish consciousness, youâre all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.
but itâs so overwhelming.Â
youâre so, so close, so close heâs practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. itâs beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved.Â
suguruâs heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.
with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.
all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much youâve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.
suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadnât asked for. something natural, that he didnât question, didnât think about.Â
but you say his name with such warmth.
he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru â in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him.Â
at the end of the day, heâs simply your sugu. and thatâs all he ever really wants to be.
with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he canât bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what youâre doing, no matter where you are.Â
and right now, youâre here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.
his heart is yours. thatâs all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever.Â
he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. theyâre proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldnât dare deny himself of feeling it.
he canât hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you arenât used to seeing â but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears arenât ones of sadness. you know, because you know him.Â
âaw, honeyâŠâ you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. âdonât cry... youâll make me cry, too.â
suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless â you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.
all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.
ââm sorry,â he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. âiâm just so happy⊠love you so much⊠you mean so, so much to me, iâŠâ
an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt youâre wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue.Â
and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:
âi donât know what iâd do without you.â
and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and heâs telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you donât dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; heâs still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and youâre so in love with him that you almost canât comprehend it.
all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. âi love you, too. more than anything.â a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. âyou mean the world to me. honestly.â
with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling.Â
âmy sweet boy,â you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy youâll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. âiâm so, so lucky.â
with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleepâs embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.
everything feels right. heâs safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.
the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. youâre smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat.Â
âwanna be with you forever,â he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. âgonna marry you one dayâŠâ
a moment passes.
for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.
swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale â and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.
marry.
the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if heâs said it countless times before. as if heâs repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take.Â
(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)
â⊠okay,â you whisper, at last. breathless. âiâll be waiting, then.â
thereâs nothing else to say. you donât know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you donât mind.Â
a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.
âgoodnight, sugu.â you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. âi love you.â
an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you canât quite make out â but you donât need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.
(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.
i love you, too.)
the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, itâs a soothing sound â coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.
with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you canât help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.
honestly, you're beginning to understand suguruâs fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead.Â
a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. itâs the least you could do, really â after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable.Â
hopefully, his headache wonât be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shokoâs advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. theyâre a handful, but you love them â even when theyâre drunk or hungover.Â
which is why youâre standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes youâre making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done.Â
in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you donât notice another presence coming up behind you.
two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact â but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.
suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise.Â
a sigh slips from your lips, content. âgood morning,â you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. heâs delicate like that.
âgâmorning,â he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.
suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. heâs beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesnât feel bad at all.
he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping itâll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasnât since he made that bet with satoru back in high school â and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.
a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. heâs so damn lucky.
âthanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.â
a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. âdonât need to thank me for that. how do you feel?â
suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. âbetter.â
the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.
âeverything from last night is kinda fuzzy,â he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. âi donât really remember anything⊠âm sorry, baby. i hope i didnât make you uncomfortable.â
your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart â always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ânot at all.â
then youâre taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.
a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. âyou were cute, you know.â
suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. âwas i?â he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face.Â
âmhm,â you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just canât help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. âkept going on and on about how much you love us.â
hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. thereâs a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. âmy sweet lilâ sugu.â
all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. youâre warm, and sweet, and heâs so in love with you heâd probably let you tug his body around however you please.
still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. heâs still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. âus?â
your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. âyep,â you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. âme, and shoko, and satoru.â
a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.
it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he canât help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone â he didnât read through any of them, but now heâs apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.
he can see it now, in his mindâs eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement.Â
(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)
slacker.
(we both know iâm right. donât be so stubborn, suguru! itâs okay to be wrong sometimes.)
asshole.
(câmon. you said you loved me, right?
so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)
idiots.
(he does love them. more than anything. even when theyâre being absolutely insufferable.)
suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. âtheyâre never gonna let me live it down, are they?â
a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. âprobably not. my condolences.â
another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. thereâs something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. âwell, i thought you were very sweet!â
âyeah, yeahâŠâ he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. âi wonât be doing that again anytime soon.â
a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. âaww,â you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. âthatâs a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.â
suguru blinks.Â
then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one youâve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.
you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.
âoh?â he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. âi donât need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.â
in a smooth motion, one you canât help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.
âi love you. more than anything,â he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. âyouâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to me.â
a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldnât stop it if you tried.
âmy everything,â he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. âmy entire world.â
âokay, okay!â you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. âpoint taken. nevermind.â
suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you donât want to go a single day without hearing it. even if itâs at your own expense.
a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you.Â
in your throat, your breath hitches.
â but he doesnât kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you canât bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.
a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. âcan i kiss you, now?â he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. âi made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?â
you pause.Â
âhey, what happened to not remembering anything?â you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguruâs bottom lip twitches upwards.
but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. âguess i was just that disappointed.â
a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.
âalright, alright... câmere,â you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient â so you finally lean in.
suguruâs lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly promised. and itâs a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink â desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork.Â
heâs your dork, though.
suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. and sound you canât help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile grows.
when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking.Â
before you have a chance to protest, heâs leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.
everything finally feels just right.
the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.
domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, youâre sure youâd die happy.
and wow, is that a heavy word. forever.Â
(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)
forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently.Â
just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend.Â
suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though theyâre burnt at the edges and donât taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.
you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight youâve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you donât want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know.Â
it means forever.
(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)
marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and itâs a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldnât mind doing this forever â not one bit. not if itâs with him.
and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isnât all that far off.
maybe itâs only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe â that day isnât all that far off, either.
(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.
all he can think of is forever.)
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just saying shoko would be the type of girl to hold your face in both her palms when she kisses you, her fingers brushing over the swell of your cheeks. occasionally sheâll hum and chuckle against your mouth because god are you sweet when youâre all caught off guard and flustered.
while suguru would be the type to put his large palm around the back of your neck, gently tugging your face forward until his lips are on yoursâall the while letting his thumb rub over your jaw. his touches are so gentle and yet so sure, and somehow you find yourself nestled in his lap as he continues to kiss you.
but satoru would be the type to tangle his fingers in your hair, wild and messy and yet still somehow soft. his lips are eager as his hands brush strands away from your face at first, before he finally threads them through your hair firmlyâdoesnât want you getting away until heâs had enough of you.
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đđđđ đđđđđđ... never thought that in a million years he would be using his six eyes to play hide 'n seek with little kids.
his own little kids for that matter.
you always told your children that their father had good eyes, but they've never believed you till now. you're seated on the sofa next to your blindfolded husband, head leaning on his shoulder as you both take in the shenanigans of your young children.
"where am i, daddy?" the youngest chirps, teetering on her feet behind the sofa in the living room.
"hm. let me guess." your husband chuckles, just to fuel your daughter's antics.
he knows exactly where she stands and what soft, fuzzy pieces of the carpet tickle her little toes as she sways back and forth in her little pink princess dress. your husband's black bandage is wrapped around his eyes, and your children stifle their giggles as he pretends to ponder.
"he can't see us, can he?" the oldest whispers.
you shake your head with a soft smile.
a beat of silence before your husband speaks again.
"you're behind the sofa, aren't you, my little flower?" gojo speaks, and a fit of his daughter's girlish giggles makes his heart feel as warm as springtime.
"okay, but where am i, dad?" the oldest asks from where he's perched on a pillow in the center of the room.
"hmm." gojo hums. "you're sitting on mommy's favorite pillow. you're right in front of me."
a soft gasp is drawn from your son, and you watch as gojo lifts the black blindfold. he gives you a playful wink when the kids aren't looking before adjusting the blindfold.
"that's not fair!" the oldest protests. "is he cheating?"
you laugh.
"your father is definitely not cheating." you wave your hand in front of his blindfolded eyes. "see?"
your son pouts.
"that's so cool, daddy!" the youngest smiles. "can we do it again?"
"if mommy says yes." gojo replies, voice smooth as ever.
two pairs of puppy eyes meet yours.
when you say yes, they both cheer happily.
and one day they'll grow old, and he'll tell them about his six eyes and his keen gifts and treasures. his kids will grow up and gasp, shocked that their father really did have exceptional eyesight. they'll laugh and remember the times their father used to play with them, and look at those childhood memories fondly. but for now they're still little and full of light and spirit, hearts warm and tummies full with the dinner you made them an hour ago.
"okay, go hide again!" gojo chuckles, and his children scurry off with pattering feet.
your husband presses his lips to your shoulder gently before slipping his blindfold back on. a silent thanks.
he'll let children be children.
after all, no one is allowed to take the youth from young people, not even himself.
© YUNYMPHS modifications, reposts, and translations of any kind are strictly prohibited.
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satoru thinks about the anatomy of a hug often.
he thinks about it when youâre both waking up in the morning, youâre still half asleep and his hair is poking in every direction possible, a half dazed smile on his face as he scoots over, urging you to wrap your arms around him.
a content sigh leaves him, face burying into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath.
âgâmorning sweets,â voice raspy and muffled, you smile, humming in response.
âgâmorning angel boy,â you whisper, eyes still closed as the two of you gently fall back to sleep, this time hugging each other, with your heart as close as possible.
satoru thinks about the anatomy of a hug when the two of you are arguing, when youâre upset at him and frustrated beyond belief. heâs being stubborn, he knows he is but he also doesnât get why youâre so upset.
âmaybe if youâd just listen to me youâd get what Iâm saying!â you groan, your jaw is clenched as you stare at your lover in anger.
âyou just keep saying the same thing over and over what else is there for me to listen to?â he replies back, angry at the lack of progress in the conversation.
âwhatever,â you mumble, turning your back on him and beginning to walk away.
if thereâs one thing satoru would never allow himself to do, itâs let you go to bed angry and in the middle of an argument. he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he follows you into the bedroom.
âsweetheart Iâm sorry, i donât wanna go to bed arguing, can we please just- letâs just sit on the couch for a little okay?â his voice is leagues gentler than it was before, and you feel yourself wanting to lash out at him again.
a deep breath and a cold glass of water later youâre on the couch with your lover, wrapped in each others arms. soft sniffles leaving your nose as satoru wipes away your tears, apologizing once again before hugging you tighter than before.
the second he sees you after a mission away heâs wrapping you in his arms, hugging you and never planning on letting you go.
âoh i missed you so much lovebugâ he murmurs, kissing your forehead before hugging you once more.
âyou were gone for two days, toruâ you laugh, holding him tightly nonetheless, grateful to have your lover back in your arms.
heâs hugging you after he gets home from work or you get back from hanging out with friends. heâs hugging you after a rough mission and is choking back sobs. when heâs being harassed by his students and you peek your head into the classroom, all of them immediately on their best behaviors.
âoh sweetheart you saved me!â he fawns, hugging you, picking you up and spinning you around before kissing your cheeks.
satoru loves hugging you, knowing thereâs no other way for your hearts to be closer, knowing youâre here and safe in his arms. knowing the two of you are heart to heart, filled with love for one another.
a/n: i hope you get a nice warm hug, you deserve it ! <3
masterlist
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heâs staring.
in the corner of your eye lies a silhouette, a blur of black hair and sharp facial features. awfully hard not to notice, when heâs standing so close to you â gazing at you so intently. waiting for you to say something, to notice him.
resisting the urge to look at him directly is a struggle.Â
a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, something giddy and sweet flooding your veins. heâs just standing there. all while you tap at the keys of your laptop, trying to focus on your work. in vain.
because, inevitably, the rubber band of your patience snaps â and you can do nothing but give in to the temptation. feeling him shift from foot to foot, silent as a mouse. you turn your head.
suguru looks meek.
there he stands, tired eyes trailing over your facial features, before falling down to the floor. something about it makes you want to coo â almost like heâs a little flustered. fidgeting with his hands, wringing his long fingers together, so patiently waiting for your attention to fall on him.Â
you swear you see the ghost of a pout slip into the curve of his lips. wearing a comfortable sweater, oversized and fluffy, framed by the obsidian of his hair, cascading across his shoulders like a black river. let loose, free to fall as it please â a signature sign that heâs tired.
and as soon as your eyes meet his, a certain something blossoms within the scope of his iris. peeling at the corners, slipping into the amber and cedar, an emotion you canât quite place. would it be too tacky to call it love?
a giggle slips from your lips, dancing on the tip of your tongue. itâs soft, a little teasing, but who could blame you when he looks so cute? suguru, with his tall stature and broad shoulders, sharp eyes and intimidating presence, staring meekly in your direction. as if too embarrassed to ask for something, curling into himself.
âhey there,â you exhale, something amused laced into the vowels. âeverything okay?â
he averts his gaze. enamored with the smile on your face, the crinkle of your eyes, the melodic lilt of your sweet laughter. like peach blossoms and duvet covers, too soft for him to handle. far too sweet, the mere sight of you, all cozied up on the couch; legs crossed and laptop balanced on your thigh.Â
(suguru wishes he could take its place.)
a tilt of your head beckons him to speak, and he canât help but notice the remnants of something teasing in the gesture. he feels a little out of his element, almost shy, and itâs discomforting â but heâs just so tired. much too plagued by the need to be close to you.
he can live with a little teasing, if itâs you, only if itâs you.Â
âwhatâre you working on?â he asks, delicate, soft voice flowing from his lips like melted honey. thereâs a raspy tilt to it, a little scratchy. you smile, gaze drawn towards the screen in front of you.
ânothing much, just some essay. iâm almost finished.â a low sigh, as you lazily scroll through the text. suguru hums. when you look over at him, the smile on your face grows just a tad softer. âdid you need something?â
suguru stills. blinking drowsily, slow and awfully endearing, a flutter of his black lashes. absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his puffy sleeve. the silence lingers, a contemplation etched onto his features, until he clears his throat â still unable to look at you properly.Â
(thereâs only one thing he wants. needs. asking for it is just a little bit tough, though.)
patiently waiting, you begin to study his expression. second nature, to tuck his features in between your ribs, smoothe along the contours youâve come to love so dearly. memorizing every dip and birthmark.
thereâs a barely noticeable flush to his cheeks, a crimson smear that starts at his ears and only ever brushes slightly against his cheekbones, but itâs enough to let you know that heâs embarrassed. more than enough, seeing as his gaze wonât even land on you, seeing the fatigue beneath his eyes, the crease between his brows. something that sticks to his skin and drags him down.Â
he has been a little stressed, lately. more so than usual. and youâve noticed, of course you have â worriedly waiting for him to approach you, to let you help. winters are never very kind to him.Â
heâs gorgeous, though, even like this. especially like this. sleepy, just a little unkempt, in his natural state. bare, somehow. like he just woke up, like the morning sun is kissing up his collarbone and he just made a cute little sleepy noise that youâre going to tease him for over breakfast. like heâs unguarded, at peace, safe in your arms.
it makes your heart soften considerably. crumbling at the corners, a pang of lovesick ache tugging at your fragile heartstrings.
and finally, you speak up. urging him to continue, gently, not wanting to rush him. âwell?âÂ
suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, just a little chapped. his tongue flits out to lick along the dry skin, and he does a little cough under his breath. youâre patient, waiting for him to speak, but itâs tough when all you want is to tug him close.
(you have an idea of what heâs going to ask you, what it is he wants. because you know him â and you want it too.)
â⊠can,â he starts, tentative. slow, as if heâs trying to swallow the embarrassment, gulp down the nervous flutter of his heartbeat. then he continues. âi get a hug?â
finally, he looks at you; and your heart ricochets in your chest. amber eyes boring into yours, deep and warm, soft around the edges. kind of shy.Â
a sharp intake of breath. you canât help the grin that crawls up to your lips, and you canât help the words that fall from them. âgosh, youâre so cute.â
suguru turns away, with what youâre almost sure is a low grumble â buzzing in his throat, like a dragonfly itching to break out. he really does look meek, a little needy, so cute youâre afraid your lungs might collapse. when a chuckle pushes past your lips, the red tint on his neck and ears only seems to exacerbate.Â
with swift movements, you close your laptop, plopping it down on the table in front of you. not wanting to waste any time, a little afraid that heâll change his mind. âof course you can,â you assure him, a soft lull of your tongue.
leaning back, you rest your head against a pile of cushiony pillows, melting into the couch beneath you. extending your arms; beckoning him close, into your embrace. the smile you grace him with is a little teasing, but mostly soft, inviting.
and suguru canât resist it.
he still seems a little flustered, as he crawls along the couch, to take his rightful place in your arms. flopping down on top of you with a huff, like a big dog, cheek squished against your chest â eager to listen to the echo of your heartbeat. steady and soothing, a lullaby to his muddled mind.
a long, satisfied sigh escapes him, muffled into the fabric of your shirt. he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling a little further into your touch. slowly melting.
ah, heâs just too much. try as you might, you donât fully manage to stifle the coo that laces the tip of your tongue. just admiring him, in the dim lighting of the room, all sleepy and content. that palpable fatigue, slowly dissipating. a soft groan slips from his lips when your hand goes to card through his hair, softly, nails raking over his scalp.
âmy big baby,â you murmur, planting a kiss on the top of his head. suguru wants to grumble, protest a bit, but all he can do is soak in the words, the skip of his heartbeat that follows. âeverything okay?â
he nods. groggy, cheek against your soft chest. no longer able to hide his neediness, to muster the strenght, thoroughly soothed by the warmth that seeps from your body. from your veins to his. and he sighs, barely above a whisper. âjusâ missed you.â
he must notice it, you think â the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat, something erratic in the decisive thumps of blood. a little louder than they should be.Â
but if he does, he doesnât mention it. only shifting a little in your arms, nuzzling further into your chest, relishing in the sensation of your hand in between his messy locks. so cozy.Â
âi missed you too,â you echo, unable to fight off the sappy grin on your lips. so much affection in every caress, every soft glance. eager to be let out. ââm sorry if iâve been neglecting you.âÂ
suguru shakes his head â brushing off your guilt. always so willing to put your peace of mind before his. it only weakens you further, thoughts fuzzy with the image of him, the love that clouds your vision. how to properly convey it in words.Â
âiâm always so proud of you,â you exhale, a little shaky. so earnest that you falter. a loud mantra of your heartbeat filling your ears, so much fondness stuffed inside your chest. âworking so hard. love you so, so much, honey.â
this time, itâs suguruâs heart that stutters and flails. reduced to a desperate instinct, something intimate and bare. the term of endearment slips off your tongue like it was always meant to be there, like thatâs where it belongs, coupled with the soft sensation of your fingers ghosting over his skin. brushing away his bangs to smear a kiss against his forehead.
âiâm never gonna let you go,â you promise, unable to control the affection smeared into your voice. like youâd explode if you didnât speak it out loud. âmy angel.â
âokay â thatâs,â suguru croaks, before you can continue. exasperated, deeply embarrassed. at this point, heâs sure his face must be red, and heâs sure you can see it. despite his attempts to hide away in the crook of your neck. âthatâs enough.â
laughter bubbles up in your throat, sweet like osmanthus and whipped cream. giddy and teasing, in equal measure, sending a jolt of fondness running through his veins. âare you embarrassed?â
âno,â he scoffs, too quickly. you both know heâs lying. itâs a rare treat, seeing him this flustered â how could you resist the urge to tease him a bit?Â
âthen why dâyou want me to stop?â you grin, searching for his gaze. but suguru refuses to look at you.
âitâs justâŠâ he mumbles, a string of tiny words. gnawing at him bottom lip. âa little much, donât you think?â
âi mean it, though.â
suguru groans, and a bout of giggles pushes past your lips. the smile on your face is starting to make your cheeks hurt, an achy kind of joy. yeah â suguru is just far too cute. heâs cute, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous. how could you keep yourself away?
reaching for a strand of his hair, you let it fall between your fingers. smooth and silky, brushing against your skin, soft and familiar. memories bloom from your fingertips, seeping into your subconscious; the first time he let you touch his hair, that content purr in his throat, the time you braided it as the world fell asleep around you. he takes good care of it, always has. attentive and delicate, almost as lovingly as he handles you.
a great surge of affection sprouts in between your ribs, spreading throughout every cell of your body, wholly engulfing you. itâs too much to bear.
a blissful sigh. you tilt your head, softly, a bleeding tenderness to every word you speak. and you do, with a sincerity to your voice that heâs never been able to handle. âis it really so strange if i want to give the love of my life some affection?âÂ
â and suguruâs resolve crumbles into dust.Â
â⊠youâre,â he tries, a shiver of his weak voice. under normal circumstances, he could think of a suave reply, something to get the upper hand; but today, suguru happens to be very tired, and you seem awfully set on making him melt through the couch. ââ awful. you know that?â
his heart aches, when the bitter words make you giggle. a little sleepy. it makes him want to tuck you into his chest, hide you away inside his ribcage. kiss you breathless.
âso mean,â you pout, entirely fabricated. a heavy amusement lays thick on your tongue. âiâm professing my undying love for you here, yâknow?â
âthatâs exactly what i mean,â he sighs, unable to repress the slight smile on his lips. a little tug, that says more than his words ever could.
the laughter in your throat lingers, for a bit, until the intimacy of the moment softens you up. something tender and genuine in the depths of your eyes. âi mean it, though. iâm not just teasing you.âÂ
your hand goes to cup his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. and then youâre leaning in, to press your lips against his forehead â pulling away with a drawn out mwah, a soft grin, a little boyish. terribly cute.Â
âi really do love you,â you profess, a whisper. he believes you. âi love everything about you.â
a moment passes. the soft ticking of the clock fills the space between your words, and the scent of leftover curry and brewed coffee simmers in the faraway kitchen. wafting out into the living room.Â
suguru places his hand over yours. a rough palm, always so gentle with you, slipping down to your wrist so he can hoist himself up.Â
you blink.Â
before you know it, heâs pressed his lips against yours, slow and methodical. tender, tender, tender. always. he sighs into the kiss, and your heartbeat quickens â he tastes like honey and rain. and when he pulls away, heâs smiling. a little lovesick.
âi love you too,â he hums, a soft purr that trails down your spine. he delights in the way you finally blush, cheeks warm beneath his heavy hands. âso, so much.â
all you can do is stare, entirely transfixed.Â
then youâre averting your gaze, and heâs stifling a soft bout of laughter, and something warm and wonderful blooms in the nearly non-existent space between you. his cheek finds itself pressed against your chest, again, allowing the soft and rapid thumping of your heartbeat carry him away.
an anchor for him to hold on to, his lighthouse at the end of a murky ocean. itâs always, always there â that soft mantra of thump, thump, thump.
(he canât tell you how many times itâs saved him.)
â⊠you canât do stuff like that when my guard is down,â you murmur, after a moment. sheepish. âwhat if my heart explodes?âÂ
suguru only chuckles, sleepy and raspy, the same as ever. he turns his head to press a kiss against the fabric of your shirt, right above your heart, a kind of cheeky, soft apology that you know he doesnât actually mean.Â
(he could never feel sorry for telling you how much he loves you; no matter how flustered it makes you.)
and, at last, suguru thinks the fatigue clinging to his soul may have slipped off entirely. substantially. soothed by your presence, your very being.Â
itâs embarrassing, being so very doted on, being so painfully unaccustomed to it. but suguru could never hate it. he could never hate a single thing you do to him, grant him with, from your soft touches and cheeky kisses to the burnt pancakes you worked so hard on.Â
heâd rather die than deny you.Â
so he has no choice but to bask in it; the feeling of your hands in his hair, nails on his scalp, breath against his skin. the change youâve brought into his life. bringing with you the fading scent of peach blossoms and chewing gum, sweetness and softness. happy dreams.
yeah, thatâs right. he has no choice but to melt into your touch, nuzzle into your chest, fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.Â
no choice at all.
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gojo satoru, who kisses you senselessly under the mistletoe (that he had put up) in your dark living room illuminated by the soft glow of the christmas tree while the two of you were supposed to be placing presents underneath the tree for megumi and tsumiki. of course, he is also wearing a santa costume that makes the entire situation quite comical. when you try to break the kiss to remind him of your present-placing mission, he only places a firm hand on your waist and kisses you even deeper.Â
âsatoru,â you place a hand on his chest and he grins widely.
âah, ah. itâs santa.â he corrects you. âand santa wants his sugar tonight~â
the two of you fail to notice megumiâs equally surprised and horrified expression as he peeks his head in from the kitchen, the warm glass of milk in hand long forgotten.
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Title: Christmas Dreams
Synopsis: You sit with Shoko in your kotatsu, wishing times were different as you reminiscence about a future that could have happened.
Character: SaShiSu x reader
Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)
Notes: Bit of angst, bittersweet, spoiler alert! Short drabble.
It was a repeated tragedy, something you didn't wish to comprehend and almost cursed at for its significance.
December 24.
Every year, you're reminded of your two favourite people held dear in your heart, and you wondered, if they were alive now, would you all be sitting underneath a kotatsu, peeling mandarins and sleeping like cats while watching a random Christmas movie on TV?
The white haired blue eyed man would be taking up all the space beneath the kotatsu because of his freakishly long legs, and the longer haired, tanner best friend of his would be helping you peel the mandarins, all the while Shoko would lie her head on the table, halfway passed out from how cozy and warm it was.
This was a dream you wanted to make a reality, but it was something that started a dream, and stayed a dream. It wouldn't ever become something else, and it hurt that everytime you close your eyes in December, you're bitterly reminded of the fact your closest companions were not with you anymore.
You spend it with only Shoko now, the only one left, and every year, you miss the extra warmth provided by the others whom have left beforehand. The only additional warmth were the arms of Shoko who held you as you passed out from drinking, gently dabbing the tears that came annually without fail.
Shoko could only watch and give you a much needed hug. She rarely cried, and didn't need to. You'd cried enough for the both of you.
But each time she heard the murmurs of your dreams with them, in an alternate reality where they were alive and you could touch, find, hold, talk and laugh with them, her chest would feel tighter. She would hold you closer to her, almost as if you were the medicine to her very thoughts, wishing that the dull pain would go away and never come back.
But she knew, for the both of you, that that would never happen and no amount of tears, medicine or any other substance would ease the hole in the heart.
The only thing you two could do was endure - endure for years, or until it rid itself in death.
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'Revenge is bad' to YOU. i love when a character destroys everyone who wronged them. i love when they get to bite and maim and tear and rip and scratch and kill. Sorry ur catholic about it but i'm different
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'Revenge is bad' to YOU. i love when a character destroys everyone who wronged them. i love when they get to bite and maim and tear and rip and scratch and kill. Sorry ur catholic about it but i'm different
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12:18 am. gojo satoru
"my sweet girl," comes satoru's voice that's soft as a whisper and a lingering kiss on your forehead, caressing your senses, "my darling angel." he continues, his words a tender lullaby in the quiet night. as you slumber peacefully on his chest, you remain unaware of the silent adoration he showers upon you, his love as constant and comforting as the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.
"what would i do without you?" he poses the question, his voice barely above a whisper. is he asking himself? or maybe you, even though you're lost in the realm of dreams. he realizes he doesn't truly care to know the answer, or perhaps, he's too afraid to confront it. for what is his existence without you? it would be unthinkable, downright horrifying, to navigate through life without your presence, without the warmth of your touch, the softness of your lips, the comfort of your hands and arms, and everything that is you.
"satoru?" your voice, hushed and heavy with sleep, breaks the silence. confusion laces your words as you question why your lover remains awake. "what's going on? i- what got you thinking at .. twelve in the morning?" you ask.
weirdly enough, satoru gifts you a gentle smile, so subtle that a stranger might overlook it. but you, who know him so well, catch the soft curve of his lips.
"nothing you should worry your pretty head about." he assures you, settling comfortably under the blankets beside you and seals his words with a tender kiss on your lips.
after all, why should you fret over your own self?
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â° ïč đŁook my girl, đ±ay? ïŁ§ đąatoru đojoïč đϱ !
drabble tags female reader. swearing. ê° repost from my deleted accountâgojoâs cat is obsessed with you ê±
âsshh,â gojo shushed the cat meowing cat as he entered his apartment. daisy was practically uncontrollable. she would meow, scratch and make biscuits, all when she wanted. gojo didnât understand the cat much but when she was acting like this, loud and standing by his feet, he knew she wanted something and itâs almost always you. daisy never really liked him, but you? she adored. meowing at your feet to pick her up and hold her, never extending her claws from her paws when you held her unlike when she was with gojo. he believed she enjoyed running his claws along his arms.
sheâd even wait by the front door and meow after hearing him say your name even if youâre not coming over. like now, she was probably meowing at him to open his bedroom door where heâd left you. without protest, gojo made his way up the stairs, but daisy beats him to it, skipping two steps at a time. once upstairs, gojo finds her sitting at his bedroom door, meowing but lighter this time. "do you smell her or something?" gojo questioned, but only gets a meow in return.
he rolls his eyes before opening the door, allowing her to immediately run in and jump in his bed. and to no surprise you were sound asleep when he walked in, just the way he left you, but less pouty because he was leaving. he smiles at the mere memory that wasn't even two hours ago: your bottom lip poking out as you held onto gojos body for dear lifeâ at least that's how it felt. even though he promised to be back as quick as possible you still insisted on him not going. thankfully, after a couple bad jokes and kisses you let go.
he sets the things down his bedside table and looks over to see daisy pushing her head into your face while purring. gojo could tell by the way your eyes were flickering she was waking you. âdamn, caââ gojo went to pick her up but your hand going to pet her stops him. "hi," you spoke in a whisper to the cat, eyes threatening to close. you look up to find gojo and smile.
"she's practically married to you at this point," he rolls his eyes playfully with a grin. "you didn't hear? the honeymoon was yesterday," you smiled as gojo joined you in bed. now that he though bout it maybe he didnât blame the cat that much for loving you because god did he love you too. gojo let out a chuckle, "damn, cat. took my girl, huh?" daisy buried her face more into your neck, ignoring him. you laughed and pet her softly.
"missed ya," you pouted. gojo could only grin and lean in to kiss you, but when he feels fur he pulls away. he sees daisy pushing her head onto your cheeks and lips. daisy seemed to push her face into yours at the perfect time. you only laugh at the cat while gojo rolls his eyes and pout.
damn, cat.
ïŁ© 2023 kausstar.
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how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo
synopsis; youâre his knight, and heâs your prince. if only it were that simple.
word count; 6.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but itâs only rly hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3
a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity
you are five years old when you meet the prince.
five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog â scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.
the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you donât know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesnât have anything to be afraid of. like heâs never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like heâs comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.
âdoes it hurt?â
the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something youâve never seen before â
a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.
the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town â too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. heâs above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.
thereâs something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that wonât look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.
but then he smiles. and itâs sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.
a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.
(that's how it begins. the dynamic thatâll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where heâs going.)
satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.
but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. itâs surprising, but you donât protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and heâs stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy.Â
the king and queen donât care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants â but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work.Â
satoru doesnât waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.
and he wins. he always wins.
thatâs how you become the princeâs playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he wonât settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.
time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life â sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didnât know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into.Â
satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and donât let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you â the prince can do what he wants.
that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all youâll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.
and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence â seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears.Â
but thatâs an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.
(youâll never forget that look in his eyes.)
satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you donât understand why, but youâve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the princeâs best friend, and some part of you knows thatâs all youâll ever amount to. but you donât mind.
because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere.Â
a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that heâll protect you forever.Â
(you tell yourself the same. that youâll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet youâd die for him.)
a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company.Â
so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone.Â
itâs challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.
and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true.Â
thereâs something playful in satoruâs eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic â as if youâre still seven years old, and playing house.Â
you want to tell him that it isnât a joke. that youâre serious, about this, that youâd tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know heâd just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words youâve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.
when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that heâs teasing you. indulging you, as if heâs in on some joke that you arenât. but youâll take what you can get.
you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you donât understand why.
so you keep calling him satoru. even though itâs more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldnât be so very close, they think, and you donât disagree. but thereâs nothing they can do about it, anyhow.
the prince and his knight can do what they want.
not much changes. youâre his knight, but he treats you the same as before. heâs playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; itâs in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, thereâs my favorite knight.Â
(youâre no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancĂ©e â a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.
but you donât mind. youâve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)
satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. heâs still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.
and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty â enough to receive respect without even trying.Â
but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.
as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect.Â
all of it for one person.
all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and heâs always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue.Â
thatâs only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isnât your own. when you get hurt, itâs different â something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you canât tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.
sometimes, youâre more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesnât speak. you donât, either.
a strange look crosses over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger â and if you look up, youâll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.
(something tells you heâd kneel, too, if only youâd let him.)
the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you donât have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now.Â
despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.
âdo you think i look good in black? be honest.â
you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.
satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.
âsure you do.â
âsuguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,â he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. âdo you think heâs jealous?â
âdefinitely.â
a moment passes.Â
satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. â⊠something tells me you arenât taking this seriously.â
âi am,â you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. âjust tired. you look good in anything. you know that.â
he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.
itâs late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. itâs been a long day, and yet youâre here â doing even more work. just a little more.
and satoruâs right there with you. even though heâs just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.
a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.
and itâs nice, you think, just to have satoru there â talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each otherâs side.
itâs been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoruâs been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.
âare they running you ragged?â he suddenly asks, and you donât realize youâve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.
âneed me toâŠâ he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. âhandle it?â
and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesnât carry a hint of something genuine too. âof course not.â
thereâs a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.
it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.
butâŠ
âitâs my duty,â you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is.Â
you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.
satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth.Â
after a brief pause, he continues. âyou donât have to be so serious all the time, you know.â his voice comes out a little raspy. itâs got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ânot around me.â
you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. itâs too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.
â⊠iâm less serious with you than i am with others.â
satoru sits up a little straighter.
âyeah?â he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. âthatâs good. you really should loosen up, though.â
a glance. fleeting, just to see him â but he isnât looking at you. heâs looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.
when his eyes meet yours, theyâre smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.
âyouâve got a pretty smile,â he exhales. âbe a shame not to show it off.â
when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.
(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)
âhave you been doing okay?â you ask, and satoru blinks. thereâs a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasnât been sleeping properly.
something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.
âtheyâre running you ragged, too,â you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct â or maybe just to make him laugh. âneed me to step in?â
satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.
âsettle down, little knight.â
a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl.Â
âof course,â he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although heâd like you to assume otherwise. âall of it is just preparation, anyhow.âÂ
a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. âitâs what i was born for, wasnât it?â
you purse your lips.
â⊠i donât think so.â
another chuckle. a little delighted, this time.Â
âyeah,â he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. âme neither.â something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. âbut it is what it is.â
a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. âtell me if there's anything i can do,â you settle on. the same words you always choose. âanything at all.â
satoru smiles. âright.â his voice carries a teasing tilt. almost a purr. âthereâs nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?âÂ
ââ there isnât.â you smile. ânothing at all.â
he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.
then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you arenât sure why.
âalright, then.â his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. âthere is something you can do.â
when heâs close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable.Â
then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.
(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)
no matter where he goes, you follow.
and satoru grins. itâs sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.
âcome with me.â
at first, you truly arenât sure where heâs going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.
itâs the river you used to play by as children.
gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air, and you breathe it in. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there arenât any troublemaker children left to trap them.
satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then heâs taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what heâs thinking.
âah â wait ââ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. âthat's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.â
he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. âoh? is that so?â he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then heâs stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. âwanna know what i think?â
he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.
âi think youâre too scared to get in.â
you blink.
â⊠really?â you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.
âreally,â he purrs. âyou were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.â he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. âscaredy-cat.â
you raise your brow. unimpressed.
satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that heâs standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees â it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. heâs still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own.Â
âcâmon,â he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. âor is it too much for my brave knight to handle?â
satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little.Â
his knight. his favourite knight.
â.. fine,â you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. âjust be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.â
âah, but youâd kiss it better, no? if i asked?â he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.
a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.
the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you heâs being sincere. ââ loosen up. itâs just you and me.â
so you do.
and itâs odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, youâre playing in the water â because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate.Â
the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like thereâs no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.
you think itâs ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, youâre laughing too â and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.
a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.
his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting.Â
a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.
but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still.Â
and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air.Â
âstay like this, for a bit,â he rasps. âitâs okay.â
his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, butâŠ
(heâs warm.)
silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.
âi missed this.â
âŠ
nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller.Â
but that was a long time ago, now.
â⊠me too.â
âmissed you,â he continues, his jaw on the top of your head. itâs a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. âmissed hearing you laugh like that. feels like itâs been so long.âÂ
you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby.Â
âwe haven't had much time together, lately. iâve been worried,â he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. âit bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.â
a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff â slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.
ârelax, your majesty,â you tease. âi promise the other knights arenât bullying me.âÂ
satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. âiâm serious,â he huffs, squeezing you lightly. âand itâs not them iâm worried about. suguruâs there.â
another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoruâs beaten you to it.
âthey all treat you so carelessly.â thereâs something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. âlike you exist to serve them. like youâre disposable.âÂ
a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you donât dare break it. when he speaks again, itâs an order. a demand.Â
âi want you to tell me if they go too far.â
silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip.Â
(he isnât wrong. but thatâs simply what it means to be a knight â half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.
when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)
âitâs fine. iâm not that fragile,â you weakly protest, but itâs not enough. satoru huffs.
âyouâre a human being,â he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. âyou deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.â
a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you havenât heard in years.Â
âif anyone gives you trouble â if anyone hurts you⊠if anyone makes you feel unsafe,â he almost spits the words, like theyâre venomous, sacrilegious. âtell me. iâll destroy them.â
silence. and then, a chuckle.
thatâs all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.
âi can take care of myself,â you remind him. hoping itâll soothe him. âyou know that.â
but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if youâre made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.
and then;Â
âiâd do it, you know.â
a questioning hum. âdo what?â you ask, though some part of you already knows.Â
satoruâs reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. âdestroy them. anyone.â
âiâd tear this nation apart if you asked me to.â
âŠ
(ah. that look in his eyes â one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)
you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. â⊠i wouldnât.â
âi know.â satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness youâre so used to. your shoulders relax. âbut i would. if thatâs what you wanted.â
and itâs a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but youâre almost certain youâd do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.
âit bothers me, you know.â satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. âwhen you get hurt. when you fight for me.â
âi know,â you murmur. youâve seen it in his eyes, a worry heâs not as good at hiding as he thinks. âi want to, though.â
âand i want you to be safe.â a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. âyou never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.â
you bite down on your lip. he sounds⊠a little sad.
â⊠sorry.â
after a momentâs pause, he shakes his head. cradling you close. âitâs fine. iâm here. always,â his palm runs down the small of your back. âin case anything happens.â
he inhales. âand when i become king ââ a beat. he swallows thickly. âyouâll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.â
âsatoru,â you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. âiâm not worried. i can protect myself.â
âi know. but iâm saying you donât have to.â
and then heâs pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than heâs seen you these past few months. itâs enough to get his heart racing.
enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with devotion.
ââ iâll protect you forever,â he vows. âremember?â
thereâs devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow heâll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.
you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, a soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze.Â
â.. you really donât care about the dynamic here, do you?â is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. âiâm the knight. iâm your protector.â
âoh, i know.â a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. âmy little hero. what would i ever do without you?â
a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. heâs still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.
âi don't get it, though.â
you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, and bite back a blissful sigh.
âa prince shouldnât care for his knightâŠâ he repeats, like heâs heard the string of words a million times before. âthe idea of that. i donât understand it. never have.â
the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if heâs looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.
satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion â but heâs smiling. âwhatâs so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?âÂ
âŠ
his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. âfeel that?â
you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if itâs itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.
âitâs you,â satoru whispers. âall for you.â
a moment passes.
silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse.Â
all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.
fireflies dance in the distance. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoruâs heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light.Â
satoru gojo is everything. heâs the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. heâs your prince, your favorite person, and youâll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.
a boy so sweet youâd die for him.
(a boy so sweet he wouldnât want you to.)
a shiver runs down his spine â sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and donât attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.
âcâmon,â you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. âletâs go back.â
but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape â youâre almost certain youâre stronger â but you donât quite have the heart to. âitâs fine,â he huffs. almost a whine. âstay.â
âyouâll get sick.â
âi never get sick.â
a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. âthat can change,â you mumble, fingertips tapping against his exposed skin.
a smile. one you canât see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like heâs got everything he needs right in front of him. âsome things never change,â he hums. pleased. âjust look at us.â
and heâs right. so you donât say anything else.Â
but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and youâre almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and youâre grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, soft breaths in your ear.Â
until satoru suddenly chuckles.
âhey,â he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. âwanna know a secret?â
you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like youâre getting ready to hear a bad joke. â... what is it?â
before the words have fully left your throat, heâs resting his forehead against yours â breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost donât know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.
âi think i was born to meet you.â
(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)
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nobody wanted to dress like Gojo sensei đđ
credits: pike_121 (X)
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