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for-ests · 21 hours
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fr. like why did I choose this path of creative expression
this whole 'writing' part of being a writer is so hard
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for-ests · 23 hours
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it’s been like almost 3-4 years since we met! i hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself ♡
Omg hii!! same to you! <3
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for-ests · 13 days
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Hi! I was wondering if I could be added to the suffocation taglist? It was such a good fic! Thanks so much
im sorry i didnt see this until now! yes and I just posted <3
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for-ests · 13 days
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Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader
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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 (ao3) (wattpad)
Summary: Your brother's teacher takes you out to the bar, and a deal is made. And when you arrive back at his apartment, you realize your feelings may just be reciprocated.
Wc: 5,513
Warnings: slight smut at the end
The noise, the chatter, and the peaceful ambiance of it all still failed to take your attention away from the sorcerer sitting across the table from you. One beer in and giddy off an electrifying buzz, he was still your focus. 
You craved to know more about him and couldn't understand why. Even if he was captivating and refused your request to buy him a drink and bought all of your drinks instead, you were still on edge. Still defiant, still suspicious.  
Maybe you weren't wrong in assuming he wanted more from you. Whether it was your abilities or your body, a part of you was willing to indulge in either. One was for your brother's future, and the other was for pleasure. Selfishness from either of you would undoubtedly bring destruction, so an agreement had to be made. But that was hasty. Regardless, you would make him writhe.  
Was that normal? Was it normal for you to feel this way, to wish for more but also play the same game? 
The bar was buzzing with countryside locals. Being a resident of Tokyo, you felt slightly out of place but were able to notice a few others who were also newcomers. Even if it was a Friday night, you were still surprised to see so many people inside the nameless bar Gojo brought you to. 
You brought the second drink to your lips, indulging in the refreshing taste. The night was only starting, yet you were feeling a buzz. You were out of your element for sure, already flustered by arriving at an unfamiliar place with an incredibly attractive man. 
The eyes of women on him and you were no distraction, only a nuisance. 
"If you really think I can help Yuji, I accept." You shrugged. 
"It's not just him you would be helping," Gojo assured, "You would help me too…" He paused, chewing on the inside of his lip with uncertainty. Would it be wise to tell you? His reasons were selfish. To discover such a unique and untouched cursed ability was a blessing in itself, and you were inexperienced and unaware of the target you would soon have on your back if you decided to work with him. He would keep you in the dark if you were any other person. That's what he usually did. But when you looked at him like this, with such curiosity and hope in your eyes, he could not hide the truth from you. 
Instead, he wanted you to know everything. Not just about him but the entire world you had minimal information about.   
You raised an eyebrow, placing your now-finished cocktail glass against the wooden table. The sound snapped him out of his daze, making him realize a few minutes had passed in silence. You hadn't interrupted him but instead watched him struggle internally, knowing he was battling with something to admit. 
Gojo stared at you, thankfully through the shield of his blindfold, and absorbed your undying spirit. The same aura he felt in your younger brother. "I don't want to be selfish with you, but your cursed abilities are rare and can be beneficial to not just me, but others I don't trust." 
"So you're saying—" 
"I want you all to myself—" Gojo practically blurted, his eyes widening as he realized how it sounded. He recovered quickly, though, "You report only to me, and in return, I train you, make you stronger." 
"I thought so." You leaned forward with a smug expression on your face. Internally, you relished his slip-ups but knew they came from a genuine place. All you wanted him to know was that you weren't as oblivious as you appeared. 
"What?" 
"I'm not an idiot, Gojo." You rested your chin in your hand, propped up by your elbow. "Why else would you be so interested in me?" You tilted your head to the bar, and then your eyes flickered down to the form-fit cashmere sweater you were wearing, purchased by him. "You're trying to butter me up for a proposal." 
There were a lot of reasons why Gojo was interested in you. And he was staring at one of them— your plump, glossy lips turning into an all-knowing smirk. He didn't want to look lower at the way your jeans undoubtedly hugged your curves with little room for imagination, for it would make his intentions obvious. Even if you couldn't tell. 
The white-haired sorcerer was only a man at the end of the day. Clearing his throat, he said, "It's dangerous, Y/N. What happened last night was nothing compared to what can happen. I may be the strongest, but I need you to be second when I'm gone. For the kids, for your brother." 
"So I have to be with you, or something bad will happen to me?" 
At a loss for words, Gojo almost stammered. Truthfully, you would never be able to comprehend all that could happen to you. You had a taste only the night before, but that came short of the possibilities. He had hardly figured out Yuji's future, and now he had to solve yours. 
You were unprepared. You were not ready. A situation that Gojo failed to predict, possibly from your curse technique. 
"The second you found out Yuji was your brother, your life would never be the same." 
"I know." Your eyes darkened. Not just from the memories of the night before but also from instances of your past. When you hadn't been strong enough, when you were naive. "Thank you for being honest." 
A moment passed in silence, and all you could do was take another sip of your cocktail. You were definitely way in over your head. You knew that, but it felt like you were destined to do this. 
"I'm not trying to scare you. But I have to warn you." He frowned. "You don't have to stay here. The choice is yours. I can send you off somewhere that is safer, but you won't be able to see Yuji. There are some things even I can't do." Gojo paused. "A lot of people want Yuji dead. A lot of people want me even more dead." 
Hearing that confession from the strongest man you encountered was more than enough to make you truly understand. Taking a breath in, you summoned your ability. Colors of grey swirled in your vision, but they were peaceful. Even if you couldn't see his soul, you knew he wasn't lying. 
"I'm not leaving him," you whispered. 
"I know. That would be the safer option if you were a regular human. But you're not. I can help you unlock more, too. Not just for others, but also yourself." 
"I'll do it." 
"Do you want to, though?" He responded with a more distressed tone. "I won't always be nice to you. I'm holding you to a higher standard than anyone else. The training will be rigorous, as you have a lot of catching up to do." 
"We can figure something out," you said, leaning back against your chair to gain space. Gojo actually seemed worried for once, and you didn't know how to feel about it. Instead, your insecurities came forth. "But what if we find out I'm not what you thought I could be?" 
"You are," Gojo said quickly. "You just have to want it more than anything." 
Part of you was still unsure if he was referring to himself, not just the plan he was concocting. But when you stepped back from the more trivial things in life, this was what you wanted. What you had been craving for. The loneliness, the tightening of your throat whenever you pondered your purpose. 
"I accept," you said, trying to focus on his face. Again, you were desperate to see his eyes. Maybe it was a habit, for you didn't have to pry into someone's soul to see their intentions. It was usually evident on the surface. 
"Nobody else will know about you, until I want them to." 
"I assume you know best, and will clarify later," you sighed. "You don't have to convince me. Being here feels right anyways…" You faltered again. "Listening to my intuition has never failed me. There's not a whole lot waiting for me back home anymore." 
"Except?" he asked, taking a swig of his own beer. 
"My job. That's about it," you replied. "They can always replace me." 
"Doesn't seem like you were happy there anyways." 
"It was good work…" you hesitated. "But not for someone like me." 
Gojo didn't have to ask for details. The look in your eyes was enough, and so were the details you already provided. The gifts you had could not reach fruition in that environment. If you let them, you would be taking advantage of regular citizens. That was why he already admired you, because you refused to go down that path without otherworldly influences. 
He told you about his own struggles, his own restrictions, his own concerns. Yet none of them deterred you. He seemed to care deeply about the younger generation, which solidified your acceptance into this life, past the more trivial aspects such as his appearance.  
"You found me." He smirked. "Something better." 
How was he able to execute something so cocky as something sweet? You inhaled, shaking your head to remove the blush threatening to grace your cheeks. How he talked to you, respectfully and in a complimentary manner, made it seem like he wanted more than just your abilities. And your heart wanted to explore that, too. 
"To celebrate, I think you should buy something from the top shelf?" You tried to dare, but it came out more innocent and polite. There was no upper hand from either of you. It was an equal exchange, as both of you needed the other. You needed his knowledge, and he needed your power.
"Didn't think it was possible for you to be even hotter," Gojo chuckled, glancing at your lips, and then your hand. "What do you want?" He slid off his stool. "I can get you everything, too." 
"Thank you," You replied smoothly, feeling the lingering in his eyes. Had he taken notice of your own? He was trying to gauge your reaction. Your body contradicted your words, and you knew it. You could feel the heat rising from your face and the lower parts of you unseen. Your ears burned. Was it normal to feel so attracted to him so quickly? One compliment from him, and you were a stuttering mess. 
Inhaling sharply, you tried to shove those questions away. "What's your favorite? I haven't had the opportunity to try any of them," you admitted, but the excitement didn't disappear. 
"Be right back." Gojo winked, the over-encumbered motion shifting his blindfold. "Just keep looking pretty for me." 
For the next few hours you spent with him in that bar, you ruminated over his words. Trivia happened to be the event for that night, and the crowd grew in size, as did the noise. Your drunkenness did as well, and so did Gojo's. Both of you were incredibly relaxed, and as the winners were announced, he set his arm around your shoulders, both of you retreating to a more secluded part of the bar. 
His half-embrace made you giggle, and you took the last sip of your drink, which was watered down at that point. The conversation between you and him had been endless, and you wished the night didn't have to end. But it was the last call. 
"How ya feeling?" Gojo asked, tilting his head down to look at you. He was so close and unfiltered, and you could smell the scotch on his breath as it fanned down your neck. "Ready to go back?" 
You needed to devise some excuse to make your night with him last longer. "I'm not drunk enough yet." You pouted. 
Suddenly, you felt something hard press against your lower back. Gojo snickered as he revealed the chilled glass bottle. "Something for the road!" 
"Did you steal that?" You whispered with a smile of disbelief. 
"Maaayybbeee." He pressed his finger against your lips. "Don't tell anybody." 
"I actually planned to tell everyone," you replied, giggling as Gojo ushered you outside. The rush of the night caused you to instinctively press into him for shelter. He towered over you, and you loved it. 
He hummed in response. "Don't worry, I won't let you walk back." 
And like the last time, you couldn't muster a reply before you were transported back to Jujutsu High. 
The two of you stumbled into the common room. You collided against the doorframe with your first step, etching a startled whine to leave your mouth. But then you started to laugh, rubbing your forehead with an eye roll. 
Those heavenly colors were still in the back of your mind. And you were having trouble distinguishing them from the man himself. This might very well be the first man you could not configure. Would that be the death of you? 
Gojo laughed as well and held out his hand. "You alright?" He asked. 
Glancing up at his smile, you felt warm. No, you were sober enough. Definitely feeling the liquor but ready to indulge. Hopefully, to get more information out of him. 
Intertwining your fingers with his, you nodded. "Totally. Zero chance there will be a bruise tomorrow." 
"It's only your third time teleporting?" He teased. "I think you're doing a great job." 
"I better be," you huffed, glancing at the sofa beside you. The common room was comfortable enough. The students often used it with CDs, blankets, and games scattered around. Everything you needed was there. "A drink will certainly help." 
You slumped against the couch with a groan, kicking off your shoes in the next movement. Gojo walked across the room and grabbed two glasses from the kitchenette. 
Satoru let himself fall onto the couch beside you and immediately let out a satisfied groan. He closed his eyes and leaned against your side, putting one arm over you. You could feel his body heat warm your own. A few seconds passed like that.
"So," You began as he poured you a glass. "Movie or game?" 
"The question game." He poured his own glass with a smile. "Unless you don't wanna know more about me?" 
"Of course I do!" You rolled your eyes. He knew you were trying to be considerate. It was late, after all, and you'd been talking all night. But it felt so natural with him. "I just didn't know if you could handle more drinks." Your eyes glimmered teasingly as you took a gulp of the top-shelf whiskey. 
"I can handle more," He assured, grinning after taking a sip. "If that's what it takes to spend more time with you." His tone was softer, and before you could respond, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
You immediately blushed, blinking in surprise. It was no innocent kiss, and you knew it, which almost made you freeze. Did he really mean it? Were you crazy to enjoy it, let alone want more? But of course, your body spoke for you, and you leaned into Gojo's embrace. "You wanna get to know me?"
"Of course I do," He whispered, leaning up to your ear and speaking so that you physically shivered. He brushed your hair aside teasingly slow, before kissing the base of your neck. He heard your breath hitch and felt your body instinctively relax. "It is like that, huh?" He mumbled against your skin, inhaling the perfume he could smell in your hair all night. It was addicting, and he kissed your neck again, harder that time, teeth almost threatening to reveal. 
"I was afraid I misread the situation," Gojo said, gaining the sense to pull his head back, realizing that the drunkenness was setting in quicker than he expected. 
"You're just drunk!" You stuttered, feeling your skin burn even after he pulled away. He wasn't being fair. "How drunk are you?"
He laughed, leaning back against the couch again. "On a scale of one to ten?" He thought out loud. "Like… a six point five? Is that possible?"
"Teleporting here definitely zapped you." 
He looked over at you, chuckling once more. "Not that it matters. What matters is…" He paused, a slight grin settling on his face. "What matters is that I enjoyed my time with you," He said, leaning closer to you, but plucking the glass from the table and downing it quickly.
"I hope I didn't scare you off… getting drunk and acting…" He trailed off and chuckled nervously.
"Kissing me?" You chuckled. "Yeah... we might have to talk about that."
Sheepishly turned back to you. "Yeah… yeah. Probably need to explain that a bit, huh?" He said with a teasing smile. The effects of the alcohol were definitely kicking in, as he was satirizing most of his words and loosening up. "Or we could just kiss more?" 
Responding to his invigorating question, you innocently set your glass back on the coffee table. You took a silent, deep breath to calm your nerves, realizing that was what you wanted. Just for a minute, you would indulge. 
And then, finally, Gojo gained the courage to close the previously insurmountable gap between you, mending his lips with yours so perfectly that your knees felt like buckling even though you were sitting. One of his hands moved down to grasp your waist, tugging you against him, desperate to taste you. 
And you tasted as sweetly as he imagined. Gojo was addicted to one kiss alone and felt his heart cry out when you reciprocated and deepened the kiss, your smaller hands clawing at him with the same amount of need. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time, but even then, it was more, it was incomparable. 
It scared him. 
"Gojo…" You muttered against his lips, your heart beating rapidly and with so much desire you could hardly fathom the emotions racing through your head. He tasted just like the honey you thought he would, and you knew then that it would be the new drug you would seek for the rest of your life. 
It scared you. 
Granting you with one more passionate kiss, Gojo pulled his head back. Your eyes fluttered open, and you gave him a questioning stare, filled with the slight annoyance of not being able to read what he was feeling, too. 
"Want more Princess?" He chuckled, leaning back in. The brush of his lips was enough to make your stomach flip. You closed your eyes and breathed in sharply, unable to fathom if you actually saw stars collide in the back of your mind, either a warning or a blessing. 
He hesitated before kissing you again, seeming to contemplate the same feelings you had. Things were moving too fast, but it was addicting. And in the next breath, Gojo pulled you onto his lap, nipping the bottom of your lip as you adjusted and sank against him. His hands immediately snaked around your waist and held you against him tighter. 
Desperate for more contact, your arms looped around his neck, your mouth parting to allow his tongue access, the taste of the expensive whiskey still lingering in his breath. 
His touch, the position he put you in, and what you felt hardening underneath you was enough to etch a moan from you. And he relished in it. Calloused hands moved from your hips to scoop your ass, squeezing it gently. Testing the waters to see your reaction. 
Gojo pulled back slightly, lips still grazing yours. "Doesn't take much to make you moan, huh?" 
"Shut up," you whispered before kissing him again. Why couldn't you stop? Why did it feel so good? You'd kissed many men before and had meaningful relationships with them. But you were too intuitive for the average man. 
This felt different. It felt like you already knew him, you were comfortable with him—that you would let him do whatever he wanted with you. 
His lips were so soft, and his tongue kept you occupied while his hands debated to explore lower. The option was there; both of you knew it. It could be exhilarating. 
Oh, how tempting you were. Gojo could hardly contain himself when you rocked against him, your skin burning with desire, your eyes fluttering when he moved his lips to your jawline, peppering sweet kisses and whispering under his breath. "Y/N…" he said, "You're teasing me…" He wanted to so badly, but he had to do it right. 
"You're making it hard to say no…" you whimpered lustfully, as if you were under his spell, your neck tilting to allow him more access. 
Lips almost touching your skin, Gojo stopped abruptly. The drunken smile faded, and he pulled away to look at you, face more somber. "Sorry…Do you not want to?" He whispered quietly.
Your own haze cleared when his predicted kisses never came. Processing his words, you furrowed your eyebrows. "Of course I want to. But its not cool to play with my feelings like this," you whispered, looking at him with a sudden softness. "I'm afraid we won't remember…" you trailed off, referring to the copious amount of liquor the both of you consumed. 
Grin turning slightly bashful, Gojo took your hand and placed his lips on your palm. "How rude of you to assume that I would play with your feelings." 
You blushed again, cherishing the way his lips felt against your palm. He turned your hand around and kissed the other side. The urgency that filled your makeout session was gone and instead replaced with a deeper yearning for something more. 
"I've seemed to remember everything about you. What makes you think I wouldn't remember our first kiss?" Gojo grinned, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you closer. 
"I don't know…" You shrugged, grasping his hand as your eyes finally flickered back to his face. 
God, how you wanted to look into his eyes. Everything was so uncertain when it came to him.
All you wanted was that confirmation. To honestly know that he was what you suspected. 
"You're keeping secrets from me, and you're very good at distracting me from uncovering them." 
Nodding slowly at your accusation, the blush on his face said more than his voice did; the way he'd treated you the whole night directly contradicted what you worried about. But that was what made you clever and all the more intriguing to him. Material things or convoluted promises couldn't sway you. What kept you close to him was the same feeling he'd been ruminating over, something unique and unexplainable.
"Your beauty can only get you so far with a man like me," Gojo whispered, resting his hands on your hips. "Time will give you the answers you need." Gojo knew you were used to knowing someone immediately, as that was the downside of your gift. Whether you wanted to know everything or not, you did. Even if it were selfish of him, he would make you wait just a little longer to tell if your commitment was palatable. 
"And kissing me, giving gifts and compliments will only get you so far with a woman like me," You replied, setting your hands over his and lifting them from your waist. 
They fell to his sides so abruptly that he paused, frowning as he gazed up at you. "You didn't like it?" His question was almost like a whine. He definitely knew the answer, though. Your words couldn't dispute the way your body moved against his own, so desperate and welcoming. 
The look in your eyes was so tender, enough to make him understand why you so desperately wanted to see his. 
"Would I still be in your lap?" You chuckled, rolling your eyes. 
Gojo laughed from the sass you weren't afraid to give him. "Right, right," He sighed, resting his hands on your hips again, feeling your muscles relax. "I suppose that's true. But maybe I wanna hear you say it."
"Kissing you felt good." 
He stayed silent for a moment, seeming unsatisfied. "Could you... say it again?"
"I loved kissing you, Satoru."
Gojo paused, his grip tightening around you, unsure how to respond. "That's not what I-" He stopped, face flushing more. "You loved kissing me...?"
So, that was something he was insecure about. Love. What a strange thing to not understand. You found it hard to believe that someone like him would not have it from everyone who came into contact with him. 
"Should I not say what I felt?" You questioned with a smirk, one of your hands playing with his hair while the other reached for your glass so you could take another gulp. "You know that I'm not a liar," you teased.
Everything about you was so compelling to Gojo. He wanted you all to himself and felt blessed to spend this moment with you. A part of him felt jealous of any other man who had touched you in a similar way. 
Sinking back into the couch, Gojo pulled you down with him. Somehow, the sofa was big enough for the both of you to lay almost side by side. Half of your body was still entirely pressed against Gojo, but he didn't seem to care. "You loved kissing me, hmm?" He repeated with a smirk, looking at you almost as though he was asking for confirmation.
Rolling your eyes again, you reached for a folded blanket and pulled it over the both of you. "You are ridiculous." 
Humming with relief, Gojo shifted you closer, resting his head across your chest. Surprised at first, you almost froze. He was acting so satisfied with your presence and your simple actions. He was cuddling against you like you'd done it before, as if he also knew just how perfectly your body fit with his. 
Tilting his head to look up at you, he gave you a cheeky grin. "You wouldn't mind if… I were to share the couch with you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Grin or not, he somehow looked earnest when he asked the question.
"I'm comfortable," you whispered with a smile, etching him to move into a more practical position. Face to face, his lips only an inch from yours. "I probably won't do this again, though."
"My bed next time then," He smirked, lifting his arm, snapping his fingers, and turning off all the lights. You and Gojo were both too lazy and drunk to bother getting up and retreating to your rooms. And, the innocence of cuddling on the couch was irrefutable. 
Then he leaned forward and placed another kiss upon your lips. He pulled away quickly, though, before you could mend your lips with his. You felt like a child, yet welcomed it. With anyone else, you would feel indifferent and nervous. But laying on that uncomfortable couch beside the white-haired sorcerer made your heart beat faster. The last thing you would have ever predicted. No matter if it would come with a cost, you were glad to experience it. 
"I don't know why I trust you, Y/N. But I do," Gojo whispered, "I hope you stick around." 
There was still enough lighting from the flashing, muted television to see his face. He was still drunk, just like you, but the playfulness in his expression was gone and replaced with a somber longing you didn't think possible. 
"Are drunk words really sober thoughts?" You teased even though you didn't want to. It was still a genuine question. There was no way he felt that way about you, felt the same otherworldly connection you did. "Do you actually mean that?"
He nodded, grinning. "Drunk words are sober thoughts for me," He insisted, chuckling. All you could do was gaze at him. Despite your distrust of anyone new, you felt the same. You wanted to trust him, rely on him, and know him more intimately than anyone else had. 
Gojo paused, his grin fading as he continued. "I do, and I just can't stay away from you. It's just…" He took a deep breath. "It's embarrassing, you know?" He trailed off, and then he looked back at you. "Do you not feel the same way?" He asked suddenly, his expression one of hope.
Everything you wanted to tell him but couldn't find ways to express flooded your mind. It felt strange to be so overwhelmed by a stranger. Feeling so connected to him and configure your yearning was correct and welcomed. There was still so much to learn about him, and you had no doubt he wondered the same about you. But being there, laying with him on that old and stale couch, was enough. 
Breath hitching, you pressed your lips back against his. You were blushing like crazy yet caved into what your heart and soul yearned for—him. "Yes Satoru," You muttered between kisses, hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "I feel the same."
Satoru's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden vulnerability. It was refreshing how easily you matched him and how you wanted more. He kissed you back enthusiastically, not wanting to stop. No woman had ever drawn him so profoundly as you had. No touch or kiss made his heart burst like you. Even just a reply from you satisfied him. 
He would do anything for you, and it scared him. But maybe, just maybe, he deserved it. Of course, he was frightened to welcome you into his world, but for once, he knew you could handle it. You wanted to handle it; you were insistent. And that was what mattered. 
What kind of man would he be to deny your destiny? 
Time passed quickly while you two kissed, and soon, you broke apart, panting and out of breath. Gojo still grinned at you, with a light flush across his cheeks.
As the drunkness continued to fall away, Gojo seemed to be more and more himself. His confidence returned, and his infatuation did, too. "You've seemed to cast a spell on me," he whispered tauntingly. It took everything in him to keep his hands and thoughts at bay. You were not the type of woman he could play with. He was granted enough that night with your kisses and unfiltered confessions. 
"You want me?" You asked, leaning into him, breathless from your second makeout session. You felt so comfortable in his embrace, wondering why he was able to vanquish all your nerves and worries. Why were you so quick to be honest with him? Your position with him, no matter the timing, felt so right. But still, you were afraid of the connection only being a one-time thing. It was hard to dispel the trauma you faced with men, and you were instinctively building those walls around your heart. 
Satoru nodded, smiling. "How could I not?" He murmured, and then he leaned in and placed a kiss on your lips once more. Your eyes fluttered, and you sighed heavily when you pulled your head back. 
He looked at you, the smile on his face finally fading. He was giddy, and it was adorable. But what was really on his mind was that no man had claimed you. With how beautiful you were, your intelligence, wittiness, energy, and strength. It baffled him. But in the back of his mind, maybe with your impending influence, was that you were meant to be his and his alone. 
Perhaps you truly were made for him, to be there for his struggles and be able to understand. 
You would be able to handle it. You wanted to be the one. Not just for him, but for the others he cared deeply for and couldn't express. The most perfect match that Gojo knew he didn't deserve. 
But you, a woman who could shatter the boundaries of the mind he could not, did. 
"You confuse me," He whispered, face flushing even more. Satoru was never one to be so vulnerable. To literally anyone else he'd ever known. But this was a special moment and a particular person. "You give me feel-" 
"Feelings you've never experienced before?" You hummed lowly, curling into him further. "I'm confused too." 
Gojo chuckled, and it vibrated through your entire body. You knew what he was trying to express, but it would ultimately be impossible at that moment. Knowing him for such a short time made you realize just how genuine he was. Somehow, unlike anyone else, you could understand, read, and know what he meant. You would welcome it with open arms, whether it was a blessing or a curse. 
Hearing his heartbeat was enough. And reality started to slip away into nothingness. Peacefulness. 
"Goodnight, Y/N," Gojo whispered. 
The last thing you felt was his fingers combing through your hair. Wishing for him, to see all of him. What a blessing that would be. Gojo gave you safety and comfort. Every touch, every conversation, every look. 
So, you cuddled against him, falling asleep to the beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, wondering what it would feel like to be his one and only, already suspecting that was meant to be.
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for-ests · 20 days
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Fallen Angel, Choso
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for-ests · 2 months
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Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader
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Part 1 / Part 2 / (ao3) (wattpad)
Summary: Breakfast with Gojo leaves you with more questions than answers, but just maybe, you do have some room in your life for the white-haired sorcerer. Only if he plays his cards right. And damn, is he already doing a fantastic job.
Wc: 5, 112
Warnings: none!
∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘
A gentle touch on your arm stirred you awake. 
Contently, you were mid-yawn before your instincts took over, and you lurched forward, smacking your forehead against another. 
"Jeez!" A low, husky voice complained as your vision and comprehension focused. It was Gojo, and he was rubbing his forehead mid-laugh. 
You winced, bringing your own hands to cover your face. "I'm sorry," you groaned. And when you finally felt the pain on your eyebrow fading, you peeked through your fingers and realized you were only wearing underwear and a baggy shirt. And he was only wearing boxers. 
Your head shot up, instantly forming a glare. "What happened to knocking?" You scolded, throwing the comforter over your exposed lower half. 
"You're literally in my room!" Gojo raised his eyebrows, mouth agape. "In my bed?" 
Glancing around and finally taking it all in, you huffed in defeat. You flopped back against the pillows, hiding your face to avoid staring at his toned chest. There was no way you were going to apologize again. Judging by the sun's position peaking through the windows, it was too early for that. "Get out and let me change," you replied with embarrassment, sighing loudly. 
"Kicking me out of my own room?" Gojo teased. "What if I wanted to watch?" 
"Oh?" You taunted with tiredness, refusing to lift your head, finding comfort in your smug response. 
"What if I kick you in the nuts?" 
"Fiesty…" he raised his hands in surrender, backtracking out of the room. You opened your eyes again and watched him pretend he was writing down notes on an imaginary list. "Not a morning person." Check. "Got it!" 
Once the door shut, you hurried out of bed and zipped open your backpack. You winced when you realized all you had was a tank top and hoodie. It was better than nothing, better than giving him the satisfaction of wearing his shirt. 
You couldn't help but want to at least look presentable with what you had. You applied some chapstick and brushed through your hair before exiting the room and meeting a now fully clothed Gojo in the kitchen. 
The smell of coffee greeted you, and you sighed with relief. There was no reason for you to be so groggy, but you were, and your muscles ached. Not from the bed, but from the strain your muscles had gone through the night before. God, you could still hear the sound of your car imploding on itself. Your elbow still ached from smashing against the cracked glass to crawl out of the window. 
Still hazy, you slumped into the breakfast bar chair, elbows propping against the granite countertop. "You like coffee?" You asked, watching as he started to pour you a cup. 
"Cream and sugar?" That was all he said in return. You nodded. 
His cup was next, and the second the steaming liquid was finished pouring, he took it to his lips. 
Sneering at the thought of a burning tongue, your hands cradled the mug before you. But before you could say anything else, the tempting aroma of frying food filled your nose. You tilted your head past Gojo's towering frame and found bacon and eggs frying on the stovetop. There was more than enough for two. 
You glanced back at him in disbelief. He had already shown you enough kindness, and this was the last thing you expected. It felt domestic and didn't make you cringe or shy away. Instead, it made you start blushing, and you hated it. 
"You need energy." Gojo shrugged. 
"I could have-" 
"None of that," Gojo interjected. "You've been through enough." 
Contemplating your response, you brought the coffee to your lips and took an apprehensive sip. It was the perfect temperature. Your eyelids twitched as you relished in the flavor. 
With satisfied, upturned lips, Gojo turned around and separated a portion for you. "So, Y/N, tell me what you want," he asked, needing to know the answer before he let himself fall harder, to do things to and for you that he had never dreamed of doing for a woman. 
"Meaning?" You questioned, taking another sip. 
"Do you want me to find a reason for you to leave or to stay?" 
It was blunt. But you appreciated it. There were many reasons for you to do either. Following your heart had brought you to Jujutsu High, and you felt it wanted you to stay—at least for the remainder of your paid time off. Two weeks was enough time to know, grow, and figure it all out. 
If Gojo was willing to be blunt, you would grant him the same. 
"I want to stay," you replied. "At least, for now." 
"You want—"
"Yes." Your throat felt tight. Perhaps it was from sleeping in a new atmosphere and climate, but you suspected it was from his presence and what he was doing for you. What he had promised before, what you wanted to explore. "I want you to teach me." 
Jujustu sorcery wasn't foreign to you, but the possibilities were. What he had already shown you in 24 hours was enough to crave a greater understanding. 
Gojo placed the food in front of you, handing you a pair of chopsticks. 
Taking them, you hesitated, poking at the eggs as if they would reveal the answer you were looking for. 
Was it wise to be honest with Gojo? You contemplated. He had been watching over your brother, but that wasn't enough conviction to relent, to bow down and follow his lead. Even if he had given you his bed for the night and made you breakfast, even if he made you feel butterflies—you had gotten this far on your own. The power you already had, was all because of you, what you suffered through. 
You had been alone your entire life. That was true, but that didn't mean you had to be forever. 
You glanced up at him, softening as you realized he'd been waiting for your truthful answer the whole time. If you could read him, it was naive to think he couldn't also understand you. 
"I want to protect Yuji…" you started, speaking before critically thinking. "This wasn't what I was expecting but that's because I have never met anyone like me. I assumed he wouldn't share the same gift. But I'm happy we do." 
"It's dangerous," Gojo said softly but with a hint of warning. 
"Clearly," you laughed through your nose, finally being able to stomach a bite of food. Once you swallowed, you continued. "But I've lived long enough to understand the repercussions. I've spent my entire life wondering what my true purpose was, feeling out of place, seeing things nobody else could. I've understood what I could on my own, but I want more." 
You paused to take another bite, wondering if Gojo would interrupt you again. But he didn't. 
Swallowing, you continued, "I'm not oblivious either. I know you're powerful, I can sense it without knowing everything. But this time I want to understand it all and not turn away. "Another bite of food. "I don't want to go back to the office and see my patients suffering." Your eyes darkened. "The curses constricting around them and not being able to help." 
For your own twisted relief, you laughed. "I thought I was crazy, that's why I studied psychology…tried all the medications I could." You began to poke your breakfast again, not even noticing that Gojo had sat beside you. "But it had been something else all along. All those notebooks I filled with what I thought was gibberish are turning out to be for a reason." 
All those nights you spent sobbing, crying out to God for an explanation. From all the loss you'd suffered, the loneliness, the pain, the bad decisions that only confused you more. 
The cure was right before you, and you were still hesitating, on edge, and cautious. 
You turned your gaze to him. "You called it a gift." 
Did you even deserve that compliment? 
"I wasn't lying." Gojo stuffed his mouth with food, finding it hard to look at you even with a blindfold on. The conviction in your eyes was enough, the way they threatened to tear over. The color of your irises was beautiful—you were perfect, everything he hadn't ever thought to ask for presented to him in a moment he'd never expected. "Y/N, you captivate me." 
He didn't even realize what he'd said until he watched your eyes widen, and your entire expression shift into meekness. "How sweet of you," You replied lowly, your cheeks clearly dusting with pink. 
Sweet? Maybe. Gojo tried to remember a moment when someone had complimented him that way. It didn't matter if someone had. It meant the world coming from you. The time you'd already taken to get to know him and deal with his company. He tried to think of something witty, but your openness beckoned his own to come forth. "I want you to stay…as selfish as that is." Selfish because he was attracted to you, and selfish because you were useful. Were those reasons all that bad? 
No, they were not. But knowingly inviting you into this realm of uncertainty would be. Even if you expressed that the standard alternative was just as hard. Life hadn't been easy on you. 
The plate before you was empty, and you pushed it away. "Maybe we can both find out what it means to be selfish for once." 
"Would it be selfish if I was still putting you first?" Gojo asked, almost without sarcasm, before it instinctively took over. "I never indulge in my cravings." 
His eyes were all over you. Your ability confirmed as much, even if you couldn't physically see his gaze. 
"I'm being selfish enough as it is," you replied quickly. "Disregarding the responsibilities of what I have back home, the people that rely on me, the life I thought I wanted to live. My friends…" you trailed off. You almost said family. But your family was no more. Your family was Itadori. And you had gone over a decade without thinking of that name, your given name, your birthright. 
The explanation of your predisposed insanity. 
Gojo's hand covered yours. Not insanity. No, it was a gift. Letting his fingers glide through and intertwine with yours, you felt relief and safety. 
"Can I trust you?" You whispered, still unable to look over at him, staring at the empty plate and trying to calm yourself down by counting the crumbs left behind. 
"Yes." His shoulders relaxed, and so did his hold on your hand. He didn't want to let it go, so he turned your palm up and nudged his thumb along the softness of your skin. "I'll make the arrangments as soon as I can." 
"What does that mean?" 
"Whatever you want it to mean," he replied from his heart. He meant it even if it sounded otherwise. Gojo was confused by his submission to your questions and your wants. But he would be damned to refuse your needs. 
That's how you took it. You knew he hadn't forgotten his promises last night, what was supposedly going to happen later that evening. A tour, some drinks. Whatever you requested from the strip mall that you'd taken notice of your way through the suburbs of Tokyo. 
You snickered. Possibly the first genuine one you could've mustered since meeting him, since confirming all of your suspicions. Gojo was satisfied to know it was because of him. 
"Do I get my own room?" 
The sorcerer laughed, too. "Of course." 
"A kitchen?" You raised your eyebrows. "Something like you have here?" You gestured around, insinuating that the remaining vacant rooms down the hall were only bedrooms, bare necessity dorms that couldn't suit an adult woman like you.
"If you want it." He smiled. What he wanted to reply might have been considered inappropriate. You deserved what you requested, even if he knew you would be content residing in his space with him. But that would take time. Gojo was still battling to not flirt excessively and outwardly with you. 
Tongue gliding over your lips, you bit down anxiously, squeezing his hand simultaneously. "For now." 
He squeezed your hand back before pulling it away. He had to distract himself and retreat, feeling his breath catch at how plump and kissable your lips were. The craving to just lean down and kiss you had happened too many times already, and the urge grew stronger each time it crossed his mind.
All Gojo could seem to think about was how peaceful you had looked sprawled across his bed, ass poking half out from underneath the comforter, hardly covered by your pink lace panties. 
"What?" You questioned with raised eyebrows, noticing the smirk threatening to grow on his lips, the flush of his cheeks that weren't covered. 
"Nothing!" He replied right after your question sounded, the stool screeching against the hardwood with how fast he jumped from his seat. He quickly recovered, reaching for your empty plate and setting it over his. "Just planning out the day for you." 
Watching him frantically try to clean, you sighed and pushed onto the stool with the intent to help him. It was the least you could do after the welcomed surprise. "What are you thinking should be first?" You asked, snatching the plates from his hands and nudging him away from the sink with your hips. 
Gojo's expression was dumbfounded. He was frozen, wondering why he initially wanted to reach out and grab your ass. Once the shock of it all disappeared, he glimpsed the smug yet masked look of innocence in your expression. He noted that he would punish you for it once you uttered your consent. 
Reaching under the sink beside you, he pulled out a spray and twirled the bottle around his pointer finger. "Maybe I want to get you drunk first and see what you can actually do." 
You raised an eyebrow, as if you suspected that was what his retort would be. "That's why I asked you out for drinks." 
"Clever," he spoke aloud, followed by the squeak of the disinfectant bottle. 
The faucet began to trickle with hot water once you turned it on. Comfortable silence filled the usually quaint apartment as you scrubbed the dishes, taking note of where Gojo stored items in the cupboards, how he cleaned, his preferences. 
Despicable. You cursed yourself. What the hell were you trying to do? You were no housewife. You had a degree, a business, no need for a man in your life. Yet you still finished washing the dishes and set them aside to dry. This was the last night you would spend in his space. You didn't know his intentions, whether he would be grateful for your contribution or not. But the fact was that you had done it without asking. As if it was normal. 
You knew you didn't owe him anything. The notion of repayment hadn't even crossed your mind. You weren't doing it to impress him, or to give thanks. So why? 
The hairs on the back of your neck shot up, a chilling realization zipping down your spine. 
Gojo was already making you feel safe. What he had accomplished was your security. A promise made that hadn't been broken. 
Wiping your hands dry with the dish towel, you turned to find him waiting, leaning against the kitchen island. "Thank you," he said. "You didn't have to." 
"You didn't have to make me breakfast either." You stared back intensely. 
"Is that a big deal?" 
You looked away. "Maybe." 
"It doesn't matter what I want from you, Y/N." He set his elbow against the countertop. "The choice will always be yours." 
"What do you want from me?" 
Gojo shrugged, not like he didn't know, but he wasn't willing to admit it. "I don't know." 
"Don't lie to me." Your tone was firm, a challenge.
"What you're willing to give." The sincerity in his tone was apparent. 
"I've already promised you my entire day. So what do you think we should do first?" 
"A tour of the campus of course," He chuckled. "Yuji wants some alone time with you." 
"And what after?" You raised an eyebrow. 
"I said I would take you out, didn't I?" 
"Is that a date?" 
"Oh!" He threw his head back with laughter, elongating it on purpose. "That's what you want it to be, huh Y/N?" 
You chucked the dishtowel at his face, but he caught it before it could make contact. Gojo began to fold it, delaying his retort to make you overthink and squirm. 
Then, he nodded toward his bedroom, where all your current possessions unfortunately resided. "Go make yourself feel prettier than you already are." 
Your stomach flipped. But you still refused to move without an obvious answer. 
Gojo smirked. "You have twenty minutes."  
You wouldn't find out until weeks later that Gojo had instinctively turned his infinity off to hold your hand, be close to you, and touch you—without realizing it himself. 
∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘
It took you a bit longer than twenty minutes to feel satisfied, but Gojo hadn't commented on it. You would emerge breathtaking either way. 
Now, you were gazing at a well-kept traditional sports stadium, your purse hanging loosely off your shoulder, Gojo standing far too close on the other side. There were multiple students in uniform sparring in the middle of the field; the only one you recognized to be Yuji. Whether or not you suspected or wanted him to be fighting so intensely with his fists, he was. The other students were just as determined.
It made you nervous, but it was admirable. Attendance was small, but they were close-knit. That mattered: if they complemented each other, if they could work together, if they could make a difference. 
"Are you the only teacher?" You asked, adjusting your strap higher up on your shoulder, eyes entranced by the multiple forms of cursed energy erupting in front of you. 
"No," Gojo replied. "Others specialize in different studies, but I'm the main guardian if I'm present." 
"Where would you be?" 
"Wherever I'm needed," he chuckled. "Which is more often than I'd like."
"So you really are the strongest?" You pried, gaze still focused ahead. You had assumptions from your gut feeling, but half were based on what you had picked up from Gojo and Yuji. Excitement bubbled inside you from what you could learn from the other students and staff you still had to meet. 
"And how did you come to that conclusion?" The sorcerer tilted his head down at you, arms crossed. 
It was bold, but you pushed your finger into his chest, on the exact spot that you could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart. You didn't have to say anything, and Gojo didn't need to ask. 
A vixen you were. Gojo wondered if you realized, to a curse user or ordinary person. You used every piece of information you learned to further your knowledge. It was funny, because you had pretended to know nothing at first. Every second he spent with you disproved his initial assumptions. 
The two of you had gone unnoticed for over ten minutes. You preferred it that way and were satisfied, curiosity invading your thoughts of the places you still were yet to see. 
Then, you thought about what you'd seen before bumping into Gojo yesterday. "Show me the gardens." 
"How did you know?" 
"The map is pretty straightforward." You shrugged. All the trails were documented, even if the meaning was absent. But there was a small cemetery past the onterage of blossoms and foliage. It did not matter what part of the mystery was calling out to you. You would find it.  
"It was where we met." Your tone was delicate, not too forceful or too soft. There was a heartfelt emotion behind it, and Gojo was unsure how to analyze it. "There was a discrete trail. If you hadn't stopped me, thats where I would have gone." 
Trying to think of a reply, Gojo watched you raise your hand and enthusiastically wave. The students had noticed your presence. Yuji seemed particularly happy to see you, the call of your name echoing throughout the stadium.  
"I promise it's nothing special." Gojo seemed dumbfounded, not because you were wrong, but because he hadn't remembered the landscape of where he first saw you. The campus was blind to him. Most of his life and memories were rooted there, and nothing seemed extraordinary to him anymore. But when he saw you, it was as if he'd seen the world and all of its entirety again. Nothing else mattered more, and that's why his soul was searching for a more straightforward answer, unclouded by the distraction of your perfection. Were you part of the answer? 
For almost a decade, Gojo had walked through life believing he had figured it all out. 
"Special or not." You glanced up at him. "It's part of the tour," you teased before descending the bleacher steps. 
Itadori raced over to you before you even reached the grass. "How are you big sis?" He asked, arms reaching out like he wanted to hug you. 
"Cm'here," You giggled, pulling him into an embrace before he could retreat. You ruffled up his hair for good measure, eyes softening at the content smile he shot you before turning to his curious peers. 
“This is my sister, Y/N Itadori.” Yuji grinned, bending down with his arms like he was presenting you to an auction crowd. A boy with fluffy black hair and a cute girl with a bob stared back at you, clearly annoyed with Yuji's overreaction. 
"That's your sister?" The boy blinked in disbelief. 
"No way you're related!" The girl also seemed dumbstruck. "She's too pretty to be related to a rat!" 
"Hey!" Yuji pouted. 
Unsure of how to reply, you glanced nervously at Gojo. 
But, of course, he would only participate. That much you had learned about him. "Right? Shouldn't she be a model?" 
"And Yuji would be like… the…" The girl tapped her finger against her cheek, deep in thought. 
"Don't say, manager." The boy grumbled. "He's not smart enough for that." 
"You guys suck." Yuji deflated, etching a laugh out of the girl. It all seemed to be good fun. You later learned their names as Megumi and Nobara, the only two students in Yuji's freshmen class. 
After a passing introduction, all three of them started to bombard you with questions. 
"How long are you staying?" Yuji asked enthusiastically. 
"Is Gojo going to train you then?" 
"What can you do?" 
"A few things." You shrugged. "Nothing with crazy combat… more on the sidelines." 
"Like?" Megumi asked, his interest finally peaked. 
Nervously, you itched at your neck. You didn't know how to explain it or make it sound cool to a group of teenagers who were far more capable than you. "If it makes sense, I can see souls. Well, the color of them..." 
"She can also see the future," Gojo added lowly. 
"What color am I?" Nobara jumped up and down, Gojo's comment flying past her head. 
"She said mine was sunset orange!" Yuji boasted. "How cool is that?" 
"Megumi's is probably poop brown." Nobara pointed at him and cackled mischievously. 
Once the laughter died down, Megumi made the mistake of locking eyes with you. In turn, you gained access. He was more challenging to get through, no regular human boy, a sorcerer with enough training to fortify barriers, but weak enough for you to slip by. 
A roaring ocean at dusk, low hanging clouds that threatened to release at any moment. But there was another layer behind the grey—a yellow warmth that promised to kiss the dark ocean and reveal the blue beauty once again. 
"Midnight blue." Your eyes softened, understanding the reasonings behind his aloof and perceivingly cold demeanor. The lack of affection for those he cared about and how it would be misconstrued. 
Everyone turned their attention to you. How did that even make sense? 
But when they glanced back to Megumi, it was a precise explanation and more. He somewhat pouted from the attention but did not seem to disagree with you. 
"Me next!" Nobara pleaded, still unsure how you were doing it but staring at you with the same curiosity as the others. 
Looking into her eyes, you saw shades of reds and pinks, blending together with a spunky uniqueness you hadn't seen in anyone else before. Confidence and neon signs, a shade of mature lipstick, and high heels that clicked down obsidian tiles of luxury brand stores. But there was more than that; you saw tulips and kimonos of the same shade, dripping blood with unruly power. A sarcastic yet loyal type of love. 
It made you simper. "Rogue pink." You pointed to your cheeks and gestured at her to do the same. The makeup was light but placed delicately on her cheeks, rosy enough but feisty. 
"That's definitely you." Yuji nodded at Nobara. "You should see her room."
The young girl seemed satisfied, slightly shocked at how you guessed her favorite color. But she smirked at you, and you smiled back—both of you smitten about something the boys wouldn't understand. 
"Okay!' Gojo clapped his hands together. "Introductions are complete! Get back to work before you start boring poor Y/N." 
"It wasn't boring," you assured. "But he's right, it seems like you all have a lot to prepare for. Especially you, Yuji." 
"Noooo!" Yuji deflated. "Can't she stay and watch?" 
"Even better, she'll be training with us tomorrow!" 
"What!?" All four of you asked in unison. 
Tomorrow? Did you even want to? Hardly anything had been discussed yet or adequately planned. You still had people to meet and responsibilities to sort out. Before you could even ask another question, or fathom why you needed to begin so early, Gojo started speaking again. 
"Fine," he threw his head back in a defeated sigh. "I'll give her three days to settle in!" 
"You're ridiculous," Nobara huffed. 
Clearly, that much was obvious. But there were things you and Gojo knew that the students did not, and you would rather have him act oblivious and lighthearted around them in the meantime. Especially as you pieced your future together. 
Even if you were skeptical and fearful, you agreed to stay. The knowledge that you would come to know never promised to be easy. In fact, Gojo warned you of the dangers. It was all for Yuji in the end. And you were desperate to help him keep that innocence and happiness in his eyes. 
"I have to finish giving her a tour of campus." Gojo held his arm out for you. 
You took his arm, much to the surprise of the students. It was all to act unbothered by what lay in your uncertain future. Those scribbled prophecies could only reveal so much of the present.
"I'll catch up with you tomorrow, okay Yuji?" You smiled. "There's some things I have to sort through first." 
"Adult duties!" Gojo cheered beside you, tugging you away. "Of course Gojo sensei can help with whatever Y/N desires!" 
"I don't want to know what that means," Megumi grumbled to Yuji and Nobara as they all watched you walk away, disgustingly joyful to be so close to Gojo. 
∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘
Shopping bags weighed you down, the plastic handles digging into your skin. Gojo was struggling with triple the weight, yet the smile on his face remained. He was able to purchase everything you needed to remain comfortable. It wasn't much, but he bought everything you gained the courage to ask for. 
And it was not even 9pm. 
"Still on for drinks?" Gojo asked as you both dumped the bags on your new bed. A chuckle left your lips as you unpacked some of the amenities you desperately needed. The apartment was reasonably spacious, equipped with a bedroom and bathroom. Nothing special, but it was enough. 
It was more than you needed, the equivalent of the motel room you'd been desperate to return to only a day before. But this time, you were protected. 
Biting down on your lip, you thought about your apartment back in the city. That was where you were most comfortable. Would you be comfortable here? Enough to stay? 
It was for Yuji. You told yourself, then turned to face Gojo. "Is there a place close by?" 
"I can actually take you anywhere in the world." He said with a surprisingly serious tone. There was an invitation in it, asking where you would want to go if you could. But it was also just the truth, and the innuendo excited you in both ways. "But I would prefer to stay close, traveling that far makes me sleepy sometimes." 
"And you want to stay up with me, huh?" You teased. 
"How'd you know you?" His mouth dropped open. 
You threw a new sweater at him, huffing in annoyance at his over-exaggeration. "Yes, we can go then." 
"I guess we'll see if you can outdrink me?" He smirked. 
"Once you start answering my questions I'll know that's when you had enough," you snickered. 
"Hmmm…" Gojo pursed his lips. "Not when I let you you take off my blindfold?" 
You immediately flushed. "I wouldn't do that!" 
"I believe you," he said with a chuckle. "But I don't believe you can out drink me… you're too weak." 
He lowered his face to yours to get a better look as if he were studying you. It really wasn't fair that you couldn't see his eyes. “And short… and…” 
"What?" You scoffed. 
"Beautiful," he whispered. 
Your breath hitched in your throat, and so did any attempt at a rebuttal. The teasing always quickly turned into compliments, and there was no denying that you didn't mind. How was he able to make you speechless for a second time that day? 
"Beautiful girls don't drink a lot of alcohol," he said sarcastically. "So it's looking like I'll win." 
He switched so fast, but you saw his hesitation, his preference to make the moment stretch just a little longer. The way his lips parted, the way you looked at his lips that were only inches away. 
Had you wanted him to kiss you? 
"Let me change quick!" You tittered. "Then we can be on our way." 
Satisfied to see how evidently flustered you were by his proximity, Gojo pulled his head back and stepped away from you. "Alright, go ahead," he said, but he didn't move. 
"Outside the room." You glared. 
"Maybe next time," he sighed but then started laughing. You rolled your eyes and pushed him out of your room. Under the fabric of his uniform, you could feel the hard muscles of his back. He was solid and heavy, and you knew you could only push him because he allowed it. 
Once the door closed, you leaned against the back of it and exhaled. Irritatingly enough, your face was consumed with a grin. Gojo had called you beautiful. 
The way he said it, too, caused your cheeks to remain hot. Were you that easy to impress? 
No… no man had ever caught your eye the way he had. 
Maybe you'd find some answers at the bar, where you could loosen up. Maybe with a bit of liquor in him, he could open up. 
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for-ests · 2 months
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can I be added to the suffocation taglist please?? I love it!! Your writing is immaculate😄😄
yesss hun! thank u so much :-) 🩷
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for-ests · 3 months
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Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader
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Part 1 (ao3) (wattpad)
Summary: Gojo saves you just in time, and in return, you reveal the secret you've never shared with another. You then agree to go on a date with him.
Wc: 4,606
Warnings: violence
∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘
Terror. All Gojo could hear was terror.
You had gotten into his head, and you were in mortal peril. His blood ran cold, realizing he was correct in his assumptions. He had let you leave against his better judgment, relenting to your insistence.
He would be damned if anything happened to you. The guilt would be too much, and he still didn't understand why. He was drawn to you in a way he’d never known.
Because of that unexplainable reason, all he had to do was feel for you. You were close enough; your emotions were loud enough. Your connection broke through the barriers, and Gojo could follow that tug through the compressed space until he appeared behind the curse that was currently forcing you to your feet by your hair.
Behind you was your flipped car, the back end of it flattened, the airbags spilling out of the shattered windows. You screamed out again and desperately tried to grasp onto the curse’s face, clawing it with all of your force. All you needed was one look in its eyes; you had to if you had any chance of surviving.
And you didn't even know if it would work.
The curse was laughing madly, seeming to enjoy your torment. "Pretty.... I can be pretty...Like human girl?"
Horrified, you thrashed against whatever the misshapen creature in front of you was. You did not know curses could speak; it was far different than any you'd encountered before. It was clawing against your skin, drawing more blood the harder you resisted.
"I-I..." The inhuman voice filled your ears. "I want...skin..."
Hearing those words, watching how it toyed with you, Gojo confirmed that one of Sukuna’s fingers was inside it. The curse probably sniffed you out the second you left campus, as his scent was all over you, and so was the proximity of Sukuna's vessel. If this curse were to kill you, it would follow your trail back to campus.
Legs kicking, you cried out. What angered Gojo the most was that your face was already bloodied, and your clothes were ripped. It touched you in a way that angered every part of him as if it wanted something more than just your power—the filthy thoughts of the demon.
Despite your predicament, you refused to stop fighting. You were almost there, hooking your nails into the flesh of its cheek, forcing its eyes closer to yours. You tried to ignore how its hands inched down your sides, latching onto the hemline of your pants. It was touching you all over, tainting your skin.
“Stop!” You screamed, the discomfort and pain catching up with you. As if finally sensing your motive, its hand clamped down on both your wrists and pulled them off its face. Any hope you had of escaping vanished. There was no way you could fight against six hands.
That was when Gojo stepped in. He knew you hadn’t noticed him yet, and the more cynical part of him wanted to see what you could truly do, but it wasn’t the time. You weren’t strong enough, not experienced enough. Only a second had passed since his arrival, but it felt longer. It made him sick to see you in pain, to see you fearful.
All those strange emotions inside of him bubbled over, and he reached forward to rip the curse’s head off with one swift movement.
It happened so fast that you were reactionless, only able to close your mouth before steaming hot blood was splattered all over you. You hung there, limp in the headless curse’s grip, blinking in confusion. Gasping, you felt the hands slacken around your frame.
And before your feet could even connect with the ground again, Gojo pulled you from the curse’s death grip and into his own arms.
In astonishment, you stared up at Gojo, then buried your face into his chest. It was all you could think about, seeking safety in his touch and presence. One of his hands held your face there, shielding you from the remaining massacre as he exorcized the curse, the body exploding out in all directions.
Hearing the squelching of mishappen flesh, you winced against him.
He protected you from the blowback, not wanting you to get any more dirty than you already were. “It's okay now,” Gojo whispered lowly. “Its gone.”
Setting you down gently, you kept your eyes shut and back turned as you found your footing again. Your heart was still hammering in your chest, the absurdity of it all crashing into you. You almost died, and Gojo had saved you just in time, eliminating a beastly cursed spirit within two movements.
But you couldn’t open your eyes just yet. You didn't want to see it. You could still feel the hands all over you, how helpless you were.
The sorcerer leaned down to pick up the only thing left—Sukuna’s finger. He shoved it into his pocket before you gained the courage to glance over your shoulder.
“T-thank you.” You managed to choke out, hurriedly peeling off your jacket to wipe the blood off your face, only to watch it bubble and steam into thin air, leaving you clean once again.
“I should have never let you leave.” His shoulders were slumped forward in shame, pausing for a moment, head turned away. "Knew this would happen."
You didn't know how to respond. All you could do was stare at the rips in your jacket, the fabrics far beyond saving. You bundled it against your fists.
"It's too dangerous for you," he said.
The sound of glass shards squeaking against concrete made you glance up timidly. Gojo stepped back toward you, closer to you. You could feel his eyes inspecting your entire body.
All you seemed to suffer from was a punch to the face that broke the skin of your cheekbone, with some deeper cuts along your arms and torso. Strange, as he thought your durability would be lower. Maybe, just maybe, you had other abilities that were invisible even to him.
Gojo grasped your chin and beckoned you to look up at him. The look of admiration in your eyes took his breath away as you parted your lips nervously. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Why weren’t you still shaken up from what just happened to you? Were you even in pain?
Safe. That was what you felt in his presence.
“What could possibly be so important in that motel room that you had to leave at this hour?” He asked, brushing his thumb softly along your cheek and wiping away the blood before he could stop himself.
Your expression immediately softened. The contact felt surprisingly peaceful, diminishing the lingering fear and paranoia that still danced in the back of your mind. Gojo's comforting touch alone was enough.
“I can show you,” You whispered with a tinge of seduction, leaning into his touch without realizing it and seeking comfort in his large, calloused hands.
Oh, how badly you wanted to look into his eyes.
Realizing how close he was to your lips, how he’d touched you so tenderly without asking, Gojo dropped his hands away. Your fingers had been inches away from tugging against his bandage. “I see what you’re trying to do.” He smirked.
“I’m not trying to do anything, Gojo.” You pouted, crossing your arms and taking a step back. “I would never do something like that without your permission.”
“Aha!” Gojo pointed at you, grinning as if he’d caught you in a deliberate lie. “So you thought about it?”
Laughing at the absurdity of it all, you threw your hands up. “You caught me.”
Good. You were laughing. And when you stopped, glancing at him with a shake of your head, he watched you smile. A smile that undoubtedly took his breath away. And for a moment, he was speechless.
He noticed that your lips were moving but could not register any words, only allowing himself a split second to fantasize about how they would feel and taste.
Then, the question you asked filled his ears. Why do you hide them?
He shrugged, releasing himself from the haze you seemed to cast over him. “Because I’m powerful.”
“Clearly,” you sighed. A moment passed where you seemed to gather your composure, not just from him, but from the fight you endured before he arrived. It was all too much. It was all too confusing. “Am I allowed to know the reason why?”
Feeling his gaze without seeing it, your heart skipped a beat. You remembered the brush of his finger across your cheek, the warmth of it, the comfort. How he’d come as quickly as he could and saved you. He saved you.
Your cheeks grew hot as Gojo gestured toward the direction of the motel. He began to walk, and you trailed behind him without question. There was no denying how powerful he was. A part of you then promised you would bother him until you learned more and understood every part of him. Even if that required you to share your dark secrets in return.
“My gift allows me to see cursed energy all the time,” Gojo said, glancing down at you as you approached his side. He suddenly revealed your purse, seemingly out of thin air, and outstretched it to you. “Covering my eyes helps relieve that stress.”
When did he grab your purse from your car? Your head shot back to the crushed vehicle now behind the both of you. Mouth parting in confusion, you moved to snatch the purse from him until he held it above his head.
Tsking at you, Gojo instead fastened it around the shoulder farthest from you. “What do you have in this bag, woman? It's heavy as hell.”
All you could do was throw your head back in laughter. “At least get the key out,” you replied, knowing that battling for it back would be futile. It was a kind gesture, after all.
The two of you strolled through the parking lot until you approached the room you’d rented. It was nothing special, definitely run down—but the hot springs had drawn you there. It was too bad you wouldn't be able to bathe in them tonight.
Gojo held the door open for you, flipping the lights on as you entered.
He only saw a backpack on the bed and a dark violet notebook on the bedside table.
“I didn’t think you’d be the type of girl to pack light,” he said, leaning against the door once it clicked shut.
Scoffing, you immediately walked to the table and reached for the notebook. Once you grasped it, your mood shifted into something more sour. “I didn’t think I’d find my brother so quickly and be attacked by a curse today, either.”
Gojo noticed, and for a moment, his confidence diminished. The playfulness that you reciprocated before felt like a guise. Were you really okay? He wouldn't have cared this much for anyone else, but with you—he did. Deeply.
“You’re positive you want to come back with me?” He asked, somewhat apprehensively.
“Clearly, I can’t be alone anymore,” you replied, knowing you sounded snippy as the words flew from your mouth. Even though you had every reason to be, it still made you stiffen. You weren't mad at him; you just felt helpless at the same time. You quite literally stepped into a world you did not know. And he needed to be honest with you. If he was what he claimed to be.
So, you turned to face him. There was nothing particular in your eyes, but your stare was enough to etch a reply.
“There’s nothing else for miles.” Gojo shrugged. "If you need some alone time."
You raised an eyebrow and slung the backpack over one shoulder, tilting your head as you crossed the room toward him. Of course, he would catch your mood shifting; of course, he would see that you were really not okay, that you were scared, that you found it hard to trust. At least he could be thoughtful when he wanted to be.
You looked up at him, opening your mouth to reply until he cut you off.
“Yes I can tell. If I'm around, nothing will attack you."
He was way too cocky, you decided. But for some reason, it didn’t bother you. In fact, the confidence suited him. The way he held himself was most definitely for a reason. And you would play along for distraction or not. If he could protect you in the way he claimed, you would indulge.
“I was actually thinking I would take your bed for the night, and you could sleep on the couch," you declared teasingly as he leaned into you, and you instinctively tilted your head up to meet him, lips inches from each other.
“Nobody sleeps in my bed without me.” Gojo smirked, the tone bordering on a dare.
“Even after everything I’ve been through today?” You bat your eyelashes, holding the notebook against your chest tighter. The door handle was an inch away, and your eyes flickered to it.
Strangely enough, the sorcerer noticed your gaze and the energy billowing from the notebook pressed tightly against your chest. Swiftly and without words, he turned, guiding you until your back was leaning against the door.
“Show me what's in that notebook, Princess.” Gojo set his arm against the door, just above your shoulder. He had trapped you. “And maybe I’ll consider.”
Your tongue nervously glided across your lips. “Get me out of here first-”
Breath stopping short, you felt his arm slide back around your lower waist before you could finish. Flirtatious that time, his hand on your hip was filled with tenderness, curiosity, yet patience. It wasn’t like the last time. There was no teasing behind it. Instead, he waited for your reaction to affirm he was correct in his assumptions, to see if you felt that other-worldly pull.
Through your eyelashes, you glanced at him timidly but curled both your arms under his, holding on tight. He better not drop you.
“Your wish is my command,” Gojo hummed, his grip tightening when he moved you as close to him as possible. The contact triggered the enchantment you refused to feel earlier, those uncategorized feelings that felt foreign and undeserved. An acknowledgment of your attraction, the desire for something more.
Voice catching in your throat, you couldn’t muster a reply before the ground disappeared from your feet.
What you witnessed in that split second was something you would never be able to explain. It was limitless power in its purest, rawest form. Lights and stars, neverending peace and tranquility. Across space and time, flashes of unnamed organisms. The essence of life itself was viable, but only for a moment.
It was all ripped away before your eyes could even comprehend what colors flashed before you.
Blinking, still pressed against him, you found yourself in a surprisingly well-furnished apartment.
“Wow," you blurted, eyes immediately finding a Star Wars poster framed above a leather couch. There was more, but your vision was hazy. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
And then it hit you, the nausea, the prickling of skin, the beauty of what you’d experienced. Words were unavailable to you at that moment. Your mind was racing, and your heart was still pounding.
Peering up at him with wide, sparkling eyes, you remembered just how close you were to him, how safe you felt in his arms, how comfortable it was to feel his hands around your hips. “What in the absolute fuck was that?” You breathed, gathering what you'd seen faster than anyone else who had witnessed his domain.
He chuckled, letting his arms fall away, giving you your space. Gojo scanned your body language and debated if he should teleport a trashcan before you.
“I’m fine,” you chuckled light-heartedly, letting the backpack slide off your shoulders.
Could you read his mind? It seemed so with how witty you were. No woman had ever been able to deal with his bashful humor, let alone read his body language so well.
“I’m not trying to tease you any more,” Gojo reassured. “If you need to sleep I won’t stop you.”
“No.” You rolled your eyes, snatching your purse off his shoulder. “I’m showing you not matter what.”
After rummaging through your purse, you pulled out an unusually outdated item. You held the quill to him, which seemed to have never been dipped in ink.
“Ink?” Gojo looked at you.
“Nope.” You popped your lips, finding the nearest surface which happened to be the island in his kitchen. A moment passed as Gojo watched you set the notebook down and the quill next to it. The way you moved was somehow delicate and thoughtful, yet he knew there were layers about you, layers he was desperate to peel back.
God, you were beautiful. Like the brightest star in the galaxy, seemingly so close but so far away—almost unattainable. As if it would take a lifetime to understand your intricacies.
You opened the notebook to the most recent entry. Immediately, Gojo saw the cursed energy woven into the pages. There were symbols and words, poetry and art.
Despite your previous confidence, you were now timid as you brandished your secrets, still debating if you should trust him even if it was too late. “I don’t even remember writing any of these. I sort of black out when it happens. I keep the quill on me at all times, just in case.”
“Why?” He asked, standing behind you, peaking over your shoulder with intrigue. He had his guesses, but there were times when even his extensive training and knowledge couldn’t identify or explain what was displayed in front of him.
Still unable to see if he was looking at your work, you rambled on nervously. “It never works with any other utensil. And if I don't write it out in time, I glitch in and out of consciousness until I do.”
Gojo was enraptured with your talent. Prophecy was rare enough in itself. But what stopped him short was how intricate it was. Somehow, your cursed energy was utterly mesmerizing. You were an artist, and you didn’t even know it. He hadn’t even processed what had been written yet.
“Months ago, I refused to write until I seized. When I woke up, 2 days had passed, and I wrote complete gibberish that filled the four notebooks I had in my house. And then I scribbled symbols onto the wall of my apartment,” you paused. "I was never able to figure out what it all meant."
Nodding his head, Gojo set both hands on the table, his pinky finger brushing against yours. “Do you remember what day exactly?”
“September 7th.” You looked at him hesitantly, on the verge of blushing.
That was the same day Yuji swallowed Sukuna’s first finger.
Pulling your hand away, you pushed the notebook to him and flipped the page. “I wrote this two days ago.”
The page would be blank to the average eye, but perfectly etched lines were visible for any jujutsu user. Other-worldly penmanship graced Gojo's eyes.
The goddess of the stars foretells serenity born from destruction
Reuniting a pair of powerful siblings, descendants of demonic plight
The white-haired emissary will reach fruition after trading souls
And when the moment comes that the sky turns a different blue,
The seer will reach infinity, guiding the new generation into victory.
Your finger smushed against the invisible ink. “That’s definitely about you.”
“Have any of these ever come true?” Gojo raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
You nodded confidently. “Every single one of them. But they don’t come often.”
A moment passed before he threw his head back and laughed, genuinely taken aback. “You continue to surprise me.”
“So, do I get the bed?”
The sorcerer closed the gap between you, the expression on his half-hidden face enough for you to understand that he was truthful with his words. It made you wonder how easily you could read him by looking into his eyes. You fantasized about their color, how they would widen or squint, how they would soften when he looked at you.
Deep inside your soul, you could feel they were doing that. You desperately wanted to explore that curiosity, once again leaning closer, waiting for him to take your lips.
“Maybe I want mo-”
Before Gojo could finish, the front door shot open, revealing a frantic Yuji. His phone was gripped tightly in his hand, flashing your text.
“Are you okay, Y/N!?” Yuji bellowed, rigid and ready to fight.
“Y-yeah?” You stuttered, immediately backing away from Gojo, trying to ignore how enticed you had been, how close you were, and what almost happened.
No. It was nothing. Nothing was going to happen.
Yuji blinked, glancing between the stances of his teacher and supposed older sister. “You literally only texted me help!” He shoved the screen in your face. “And you didn't think to let me know you were alright?”
Weird. You glimpsed the messages with no recognition, but the contact was visible, your phone number apparent. “I’m sorry Yuji.” You frowned, face contorting more than that, guilt and shame, regret. Of course, you would be that careless. And it did not reflect well on you if your main goal was to try and befriend your biological brother.
“I picked her up, no worries Yuji,” Gojo chided nonchalantly, stepping between Itadori and you. “I just brought her back a few minutes ago.”
“What happened?” He dropped his hands to his side.
“I was attacked by a cursed spirit…” You trailed off, trying to find a way to explain it all without sounding like you almost died. “My car is totaled.”
“WHAT?” Yuji yelled, mouth dropping open. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!’ You threw your hands up with a forced smile, letting out a nervous giggle. You pointed to the cut on your face. “Seriously, it’s okay. Just a few scratches. Plus, I’ll be staying here for a bit longer.”
Your younger brother studied your face before grasping your arms, holding them above his head, and inspecting. Just a few scratches, as you claimed.
“Why did you let her leave if you were suspicious?” Yuji turned to Gojo and questioned on your behalf. “She could have died!”
“I left on my own, Yuji,” you said. “He tried to make me stay.”
Gojo glanced between the two of you. He stopped on Yuji and saw how furious he was, and it made him feel incredibly guilty, knowing he had messed up. The fact it was with you made it harder to deflect.
And clearly, you were flustered and confused, not just because he was pursuing you but because your brother had caught you both red-handed. Not that anything was going on, of course. But still, Gojo felt strange, in the middle of two siblings, knowing more about the other than they knew about each other.
Both were powerful in their own ways without realizing their potential.
“How can I make it up to you?” Gojo asked calmly, turning to look at you. His heart panged the most when he caught your frustrated gaze. He would do anything to make it right and couldn’t fathom why. There was no logical reason for it, spiritual or not. “Yuji is right. I should have made you stay in the first place.”
Yuji’s mouth hung open. It barely took any convincing. There was no playfulness in Gojo’s tone either; he was earnest, and there were no excuses. That was rare from Gojo, and it was the first hint that something else was going on between his sister and his teacher.
A rare, almost impossible, and unique bond that he and others wouldn’t be able to understand. And because of that, Yuji couldn't think of anything to say. All he could do was watch.
You noticed the shock on Yuji’s face, etched in his expression. “Why don’t you show me around the campus tomorrow?” You responded to the white-haired sorcerer, glancing between him and Yuji for their reactions.
“I know you want more than that,” Gojo laughed, elongating his words in a soothing tone.
“Take me out for some drinks then,” you dared. “See if you can outdrink me.”
He agreed almost instantly. “Prepared to lose?”
Yuji blinked, finally butting in. “What is happening?”
“Nothing!" You blurted, almost stumbling on your words before you caught yourself. “Gojo owes me some drinks tomorrow, and I will hold him to it.” You smiled at Yuji, so genuinely and so heartfeltly that Gojo started smiling in return.
“Alright then…” Yuji surveyed you and Gojo, still trying to configure if he was making more of the situation. But he knew he’d seen you too close to his teacher. And the smile on Gojo’s face… was astonishing. His careful gaze turned into a glare as he looked at Gojo. Even if he had just figured out you were his sister, he would protect you with everything he was. After all, you were the only family he had left. “Don’t hurt her.”
“I’ll keep her safe,” Gojo replied nonchalantly. “We will see you in the morning, yeah?”
The dismissal was taken with grace and understanding.
“Of course Sensi!” Yuji rushed with a bow, abruptly turning on his heels. “Goodnight Y/N!” he added.
“Goodnight Yuji.” You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh.
Silence stretched longer than necessary after Yuji had left the makeshift apartment. Neither of you could think about what to say after that conversation. A stern yet laughable scolding from your younger brother.
Once you were certain Yuji was out of earshot, you glanced at Gojo. “Thank you for protecting Yuji when I couldn’t.”
“Go crash in my bed,” he chuckled, accepting your praise with a bashful over-stretch of his arms. “I don’t go back on my word.”
“Are you sure?” You squeaked.
He nodded. “There’s a shirt and shorts on the bed for you already.”
Your cheeks felt hot at the insinuation that he already prepared for your company.
“I’ll buy you whatever you need tomorrow.” Gojo winked.
Beginning to walk to the bedroom, you stopped under the doorframe. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me!” He laughed, kicking his shoes off and sinking into the couch. “You’re the one that’s going to have a huge car insurance bill to pay.”
“I take it back!’ You rolled your eyes, acting as if you were going to slam the door behind you but letting it click shut quietly.
“Goodnight Y/N!” You heard his muffled voice before noticing the lights outside shut off.
Like he said, there was an outfit laid out for you. And your backpack was somehow leaning up against the bedframe. You tried to keep your eyes from scanning the rest of the bedroom, deciding it would be something to occupy your mind tomorrow. You had been through enough today, enough to understand that your life would never be the same.
Stripping down and throwing on the shirt, you quickly got comfortable and snuggled into the sheets, surprised at how much they resembled him and smelt like him. You didn't know Gojo; he was still a stranger, yet the unexplainable affirmed differently. How much longer could you deny it? The proof was right before you, and it was clear when you glimpsed him.
Gojo Saturo was someone special, and you wished you had more self-control. Maybe too much time had passed since you’d even had a crush, let alone given in to the urge for physical pleasure.
Much to your dismay, you fell asleep with a smile on your lips, wondering if Gojo was comfortable, what it would feel like to be in his arms, all the while speculating what tomorrow had in store for you. 
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for-ests · 3 months
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I love him so much 😭
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alex 
@catboybilly
2K notes · View notes
for-ests · 3 months
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Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader
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Pairing: Gojo x reader
Warnings: none for this part, later violence and sexual themes 
Wc: 6k+
Summary: When you show up to Jujutsu High on nothing but a hunch to find your long-lost brother, you get more than you bargained for when you meet his handsome teacher. Who seems interested in you not only for your abilities but also your body.
Please let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist. This story is also on my ao3 and wattpad. COPE fic alert. some things will not be canon accurate please keep in mind!
∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘
There was no way this was the correct address. 
Truthfully, you had already forgotten how you even made your way into the stunningly vibrant complex with historically accurate landscaping and architecture—but you were somehow there. The path had turned from gravel to stone within one step, leading you toward decorated buildings and temples that seemed to tower into the sky. When you finally looked up, even the clouds seemed more plush. 
Birds were chirping loudly, and you heard faint voices in the distance. Confused, you turned your head and looked for your car but found it had vanished. The path you thought you traveled down was no longer there and was replaced by a forest that stretched for miles. You hadn’t walked miles; you had only taken one step past a threshold that only someone like you could see. 
Something was off, and you knew it deep within your bones. But as your eyes scanned your surroundings, you found no hostilities, ghosts, or curses. A sigh of relief left your lips at that. Wherever you found yourself seemed inviting enough, so you would persevere. 
But that didn’t matter. You were there solely to reunite with your supposedly long-lost brother. A sibling you didn’t learn of until a month ago when you were sorting through the boxes in your adoptive parents' basement. It wasn’t fair. You were only twenty-six and had lost two sets of parents, your adoptive perishing in a car accident a few months ago, and your biological parents were still unknown. You were only ten at the time and hardly remembered anything, yet the need to solve their case was always in your mind. The suspicious death of a pregnant woman never went unnoticed, so you always had an inkling there was more to the story. A story you were now beginning to piece together a decade and a half later. 
None of this made sense. The child your mother was carrying did survive, and instead of keeping the two of you together, they ushered you into the foster system? It was all so jumbled together, undoubtedly buried in layers of secrets. You were told you had no extended family, let alone a full brother. You’d been led to believe your life was as every day as possible, only to find you’d been lied to by the couple who took you in. 
The curses were the only hint that something was off. But you’d never spotted any around your adoptive parents. And because they were oblivious, you refused to burden them with the knowledge. Instead, you practiced secretly, exorcizing what you could to keep your new family and friends safe. 
You would do the same for your brother if he would have you. 
Determined, you kept walking down the cherry blossom-decorated path, desperate to solve whatever mystery you’d been thrown into. Jujustu High made enough sense, and the suspicions were confirmed when you saw through the spell. When you saw the DNA test results, all you had was your brother’s name. Weeks of searching on the internet led you to find the school he was enrolled in. There was no other address, and you found that strange. It made you suspect he was forced to suffer through your same predicament. 
When you realized this high school was for sorcerers, it all clicked into place. Maybe he could see curses, too. He could have similar talents or be even stronger with practice. Did your sibling also have the same ability? Was he here for a reason? Maybe you had gotten your hopes up; perhaps you were hallucinating. You panicked and checked your phone, only to find no signal. 
Why does this always happen to me? 
You stopped abruptly under a sakura tree, the scent it emitted more enchanting than you ever thought possible. For a brief moment, you closed your eyes to take it in, only to realize it was not of cherry blossom. It was a musk of amber and turmeric. 
Your eyes drifted down the hidden path that led off campus. It intrigued you. Somehow, it called you. A piece of the puzzle that you were trying to solve. You were about to indulge until you suddenly felt the presence of another. 
“How did you get in here?” Someone asked, the tone half accusatory and half amused. The deep, alluring voice caused you to stiffen. 
And when you turned, your breath stopped. The man was striking, somehow able to captivate you by the faint smile on his lips. You could not see his eyes through what you presumed to be a charcoal-tinted blindfold. He stood a few feet away with his hands shoved in his pockets, radiating confidence and power. Before you could even muster a reply, the white-haired man swaggered toward you, somewhat curious but also cautious. 
No words left your lips as he approached you; all you could focus on was the aura surrounding him. It was blaring, basically engulfing him, possibly the strongest you’d ever been able to comprehend. 
It was as if you were suffocating, wasting precious air as you tried desperately to configure all he entailed. All that he was. He was far past your understanding, spiritual, bewitching, and commanding. His looks could kill. The black uniform was not concealing enough, and you fought past the spell he seemed to cast on you, making you fathom what was underneath. 
Lucky for you, your determination cleared the haze he left you in. 
“I’m here to see my brother.” That was all you managed to reply, but it was enough. Somehow, you knew that was what you needed to say. You were grasping at strings but understood that being truthful in a realm you couldn't fully comprehend was the best option. 
The stranger was standing too close, towering over you as if inspecting every fiber of your being. Even if you couldn’t physically see his eyes, you could feel them all over you. 
The intensity of his concealed gaze almost made you gasp out loud. 
Silence passed before the man asked, “Do you even know where you are?” 
Blinking yourself out of the embarrassing way you were staring at him, you reached into your purse and pulled out a piece of paper, brandishing it to him as a defense. “Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College” 
“Ahh.” He plucked the paper from your fingers and took a step back. Since his eyes were covered, you didn’t even know if he read the contents. Regardless, it was your proof that you’d been led there thanks to Google Maps and your own detective work. 
Frowning, you watched him closely for a reaction. The initial energy you witnessed was now barely a flicker. Was he a teacher? He seemed friendly enough but also shocked—as if you were trespassing. 
“What's your name?” You practically squeaked, internally wishing you could display more confidence.
“Maybe you can help me.” 
“Gojo Satoru,” he replied, folding the piece of paper and handing it back to you, suddenly becoming unbothered as his hands stretched above his head, a yawn threatening to escape his lips. “Not that I don’t enjoy the company of a beautiful woman, but you aren’t supposed to be here.” 
Something inside of you fluttered, but it didn’t diminish your sudden panic. “I would have called, but there was no phone number!” You rushed out, trying not to sway nervously on your feet. You were antsy, knowing you were so close to finally getting the answers you’d dedicated the last couple of months of your free time to. 
It was the only thing that had kept you strong through your mourning. 
Gojo crossed his arms. That wasn’t a lie, but there was definitely something you weren’t sharing. Notably how virulent your cursed energy was and why he had never heard of you. “Why don’t you just call his phone?” 
You slumped in defeat, knowing you had led into that trap. But you needed to be honest to find the answers, to find your baby brother. That mattered most at the end of the day, and you would make this man help you whether he liked it or not. 
“Look, I just figured out I had a brother, okay?” You paused for a moment and shifted your purse farther up your shoulder. It was hard to gauge his reaction when you couldn’t see his eyes. That was your specialty; it was how you saw the true intent of someone’s soul. “I just want to confirm he’s here and I’ll set up a meeting with his guardian. I know I showed up unannounced but I just need to make sure he’s alive…”
“What made you think he wasn’t?” 
“I don’t know. It was hard to find him.” You glared. “Are you gonna help me or not?” 
“Maybe.” He smirked. 
“Maybe?” You scoffed. “What more proof do you need?”
“A few things…” He tapped his chin as if he was apparent. This man was being far too playful with you. 
“Can you fucking help me or not?” Your question was laced with venom, so much so that you were shocked. Being toyed with like this, about something so profound to you, caused all your manners to vanish. If he would keep you from seeing your brother, you would find an alternative. 
“Tell me why you’re suppressing your cursed energy.” Gojo shrugged, like admitting something so personal was an everyday experience. 
After the initial surprise of his statement passed, all you managed to do was tilt your chin up in defiance. So, he was like you. Though in a different way. 
“Take your blindfold off, and I can show you,” you replied back just as casually. 
He whistled mockingly, but the way he stepped closer to you ensured he was impressed. And he was wondering if your previous anxiety was just a well-played facade.
“What a feisty little thing you are…” He whispered, dipping his head down, invading your personal bubble. “But I keep it on for a reason.” 
Instead of backing up like your instincts told you, all you could do was stand your ground, trying to stare through the thin fabric, imagining what color they would be and what you would find once he let his guard down. All you needed was a glimpse of his soul. 
A long stillness passed, and the stranger was way too close, but you were unbothered. You knew he was teasing you, possibly trying to flirt with you, and it took all of your strength to hide your bashfulness. The reason you were there mattered much more than your sudden curiosity for him. 
“I want to see my brother.” You tapped your foot against the stones anxiously. 
Sighing through his nose, Gojo finally asked, “What’s your name?” His hands fell back down to his pockets, demeanor relaxing now that he acknowledged you were not a threat like he initially anticipated, only demanding and impatient. 
Your eyes were focused on him, analyzing his movements. A debate was ongoing in your mind. Part of you wanted to keep everything a secret, and the contrary was willing to admit everything. It was obvious, even to someone inexperienced like you, that this man could have already killed you if he wished. 
So, possibly against your better judgment, you took the first step and entrusted him with information. 
“My given name was Y/N Itadori.” 
…Itadori? 
Gojo’s entire reality almost collapsed at your reply. There was no way you could be related, not even a chance. Extensive background checks had been put in place, and an immense amount of effort was put in to ensure Yuji remained a secret at Jujustu High. Yet somehow, you managed to appear.
A woman, an older sister that Yuji didn’t even know about. You looked nothing like the youngster. You were far too beautiful. It wasn’t just that, though. It was in the way you held yourself, the power pulsing through your veins, the way you smelled—your voice and your eyes. No woman had ever piqued his interest the way you currently were. Perhaps it was because something else about you was impossible to configure. 
He was so stunned that his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. You could only see his eyebrows, but that was the hint you needed. The hesitation was expected and revealing—his reaction displayed that he was closer to your brother than you thought. 
“So he is here,” you pried further, crossing your arms and shifting your weight to a single hip. Your snarkiness was blatant, and that was because you felt naturally drawn to play whatever game he had in mind. 
“Maybe?” He shrugged, gritting his teeth, left hand raising to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. 
“You better tell me where.” 
“I can show you if you ask nicely.” 
“Absolutely not,” you hissed but didn’t make a move to retreat. There was no way you were going to make the first move. Whether you were leaving or staying, you needed to be cautious. Even if he was playing with you, your eyes did not lie. He could be dangerous if he wanted to be. And you wanted to be nice, but God, was he pissing you off. 
“How rude,” He frowned as if he was actually wounded by the potency of your tone. “I’m trying to be nice, and this is how you repay me?” 
What you initially wanted to say was definitely discourteous. But that would get you nowhere. Instead, you tried your initial approach. Honesty.
“Gojo,” you said his name bitterly but managed to lower it to a hush. “I can see that you’re powerful, but you also know who my brother is.” You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the nerves rushing back. Your brother was close. He was there, within reach. “I’ve been traveling all day…So please, show me where he is or let me find him myself.” 
Your sudden shift surprised Gojo. Maybe that’s what he wanted his teasing to unveil—your true desperation to see Yuji. It became apparent that his dramatics would not work on you. His suspicion was also correct. You could see curses, and you could see his power. 
“He’s here, and he's under my supervision,” Gojo replied, analyzing you again as he contemplated what to do. He shouldn’t let you meet your brother, as that would only cause more problems for him and the higher-ups. But you…could be useful. You could be something special. Despite his initial curiosity for you and the way you blinded him with your beauty, he wanted to know you as more than what you could be. He didn’t just want to use you. “He can’t leave. You still want to see him?” 
You nodded furiously, hope appearing back in your radiant doe-like eyes. “Please.” 
Gojo cursed himself for making it disappear in the first place, even if he had to. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to apologize. Why?
But instead of apologizing, Gojo gestured behind him and turned on his heels. He didn’t need to ask you to follow him, knowing you were going to anyway.  
He led you down a winding path, and you tried your best to remain focused. It was hard not to become distracted. His physique and the power radiating from him were engulfing when you let yourself notice. 
The breathtaking nature surrounding you was also impossible to ignore. This compound was picture-perfect. If you had another reason to be there, you would have pulled your phone back out of your pocket. 
The air was crisp, not heavy like the city air. No curses were around, and you felt a foreign sense of peacefulness. 
You followed Gojo into a building and then into a long hallway. You tried your best to trail the path but came up empty-handed. That was when you realized you were trusting the white-haired man too much. Far more than you would have ever anticipated, but your gut wasn't twisting. The hairs on the back of your neck were not prickling with warning. It felt safe. 
When he finally spoke minutes later, you registered just how desperate you were trying to pick him apart with your mind. 
“This is my office,” Gojo said, sitting in the chair behind the desk, kicking his feet up nonchalantly. “I’m a professor here, or an equivalent.” 
“It's nice,” you replied, trying to hide your wandering eyes as they scanned the office. It would be nice if you had a blindfold as well. 
You didn’t exactly know what you were looking for but were satisfied to see nothing suspicious. There were no clear signs of deception. An empty office with a few decorations. There was only one picture frame on the desk, presumably with students. One had black hair and one had pink hair. You couldn't help but smile once glimpsing it, as they all looked so happy. Gojo was in the middle with the biggest smile on his face. 
You wondered if he would ever smile at you like that. Your stomach flipped with warning the second you realized what you wished for. What was wrong with you? Who was this man, and why did he have such a hold on you? 
“I already texted your brother,” he finally replied, face focused on yours. He knew exactly where your eyes were wandering. And that was what gave him confidence. It made him aware that his flirting attempts were successful. Whatever the two of you had going on, it wasn’t just him that felt it. You did, too. 
Thank God. He was lucky his eyes were hidden. There was a mystery even with what he expected your abilities to be. Gojo was already craving for you to be underneath him, and he hated himself for it. Those thoughts definitely had a time and place. 
“How long?” You asked, finally sitting in the opposite chair and away from his propped-up shoes. 
You hadn't even asked for clarification on your brother's name. Still, your stare was so intense that Gojo couldn’t help but be physically flustered, his usual nonchalant behavior mending into something more severe in your presence.
At least Yuji had already replied to him. But Gojo did not know how to respond back. He didn't learn how to navigate a situation like this. Yuji would take the news of a long-lost sibling the best out of everyone, but Gojo was still nervous. 
“Any minute,” he rushed, staring at the door, trying to ignore the beauty that commanded even the power of his six eyes.  
There was no way you weren't feeling the same fervor he was. He could see it in your eyes, the way you chewed on the inside of your cheek. He was making you flustered, but he could be wrong. A few years had passed since he'd been intimate with a woman, let alone interested to this degree.
You had a facade he'd never seen before. You acted like you had a secret, even as you admitted the truth. When he pried for the truth, you gave it. So… what were you hiding? 
You were looking at your hands, but Gojo was entirely enticed by you. 
Studying your features, he almost lost himself in them before the door slid open—revealing Yuji Itadori. His student, your brother. A catalyst that tied your souls together. 
If it was possible for Gojo to hear your heartbeat stop, he did. Your aura immediately changed, and all the sassiness you threw his way vanished, replaced with shyness and uncertainty. 
“Yuji!” Gojo greeted enthusiastically to compensate for your silence, finally sliding his feet off the desk and sitting up straighter. 
It took extreme willpower to not start bawling on the spot as you finally glimpsed your long-lost brother. You just knew it was him, and it made your eyes sting. They stung for all the months you’d been searching, for all the years you missed out on, and all the times you couldn’t be there for him. You wanted to reach out to him, but you were frozen. You couldn’t formulate a single word as your mouth hung open, embarrassingly so. 
He casually greeted his sensei before glancing apprehensively at you. “Who’s this?” 
A moment passed when nobody said a word. Gojo was waiting for you to say something, anything, but it seemed you’d short-circuited. How cute.
“This is your sister, Y/N Itadori!” Gojo almost yelled, throwing his arms up and pointing at you in a V-shape. “Isn’t that wonderful?” 
Gojo’s exuberant nature snapped you out of your internal debate, realizing what he had just admitted. 
“Really?” You snapped your head at Gojo, eyes wide with disbelief but your lips pursing with contempt. “That’s how you’re going to tell him!?” 
The sorcerer dropped his arms in defense. “You weren’t saying anything!”
Frustrated, you returned to Yuji, who stood in the doorway with analytical eyes boring to you and trying to find any sense of a joke. You tried to think of something to say, but it was fruitless. No excuse or apology seemed sincere enough. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind. 
He stepped closer to you, oncing you over and putting the pieces together. “You have grandpa’s nose,” He finally said. “Which means you also have mom’s nose.” 
“Yeah…” You slumped in your seat, slightly out of relief. At least he believed you. And because of that, you chuckled to release the tension. 
“You’re really my older sister?” He asked, apprehensively pulling out the chair beside you and sitting down. “I didn’t know I had one.” 
Whether or not you should have invaded his personal space, you couldn’t help but reach for his hands. And when he didn’t shy away, you gave them a squeeze. “I can explain everything to you, if you want.” When you released his hands, you leaned back in the chair. “Or at least the pieces I’ve put together.” 
“Of course I want that.” Yuji smiled, but there was a sadness behind it. Undoubtedly, he was thinking about everything you’d been stressing over. Right then and there, you decided you would do everything you could to make it up to him. 
A tear escaped your cheek before you even realized it. He was a handsome young boy; he was strong and intelligent. He was everything your parents could have ever asked for, and it made you miss them even more. “God, Yuji,” you faltered. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 
“Really?” He asked, eyebrows raising in distress at how quickly your mood shifted. 
You nodded, wiping your tears and laughing again. Too many emotions were racing through your body, and you didn’t know where to start. You took a moment to compose yourself and decided to start from the beginning, knowing Gojo was listening but not really caring. It would be beneficial for him to know as well. 
Taking care of your brother was something you would forever be indebted to Gojo for. 
“My adoptive parents were killed in a car accident,” You started, feeling your throat tighten at the memory of getting that police call. “I was sorting through their documents, and I found a folder from my adoption…” 
Everything poured out quickly after that. You even gushed about how excited you were about having a little brother when your parents broke the news to you all those years ago. You told him about the good and the bad, about the struggles, about your sadness and belief he was dead. You told him about how angry you were when you found out that he’d been alive the entire time and how the adoption system failed both of you. 
An immense amount of relief filled your being when you finished the story. Yuji hardly asked any questions as you spoke, and Gojo had sat there perfectly calm, listening intently. Just being able to tell Yuji about his past was satisfactory enough. At least he knew. At least you were able to find him and be at peace that he was alive. 
You glanced at the documents sprawled across Gojo’s desk. The proof was all there, and so were your intentions. “I’d love to be in your life, Yuji,” you said somewhat nervously. “If you’ll have me.” 
Your brother’s face was blank for a second but then cracked into the warmest, brightest smile you’d ever had the blessing to witness. “Of course I will, Y/N!” 
And before you could muster a reply, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you. You giggled, returning the embrace, holding him extra tight, cherishing such a tender moment. The best possible outcome. A healthy brother. 
But when you pulled away and got a better look at him, you let the curiosity overtake you. The power inside of you couldn’t resist taking a closer look to truly know if his soul was untainted, if it was pure—what the future had in store. 
Within a split second, hardly a glimpse, you peered into Yuji’s eyes and beyond the surface level of his corneas. You broke down the barrier to see into his soul, desperate to know the color of his heart, the essence of his being. 
Sunset orange. 
But there was something else, faint but there. Crimson and black. Foreign. Deadly and evil—from the deepest pits of hell. It wasn’t your brother, though. 
Panicked, you came back to reality. You could barely even gasp before standing up, hands slamming down at the table. You were not going to blame Yuji for it, you were going to direct your anger to Gojo. 
“What's inside him?!” You hissed, finger jetting out and pointing with malice. For a split second, your eyes were able to bore through the black blindfold that covered Gojo’s eyes, and you saw them widen with shock. The color filled your senses, but it disappeared before you could process it. 
Gojo and Itadori glanced at each other. 
“How do you know there’s something inside him?” Gojo asked, harshness blaring in his tone for the first time, covering up for that millisecond where you infiltrated his fortified barriers. 
“I don’t know,” you said curtly. “I just do.” 
“Wait…why do you assume it’s my fault?” Gojo asked as the surprise and pique faded away. 
“Can you see curses too?” Itadori questioned somewhat excitedly. 
You nodded, still on edge, as you glanced back to your brother. “Since before you were born.” 
But Sukuna was different. Gojo knew that. A sorcerer, let alone an ordinary person, could not sense anything of Sukuna in the first place. You had also slipped through his own fortifications, closer to his infinity than he’d ever felt before. Did you have an ability he couldn’t sense? 
“Doesn’t explain how you know there’s something inside me.” Yuji narrowed his eyes. 
At the slightest hint of contempt from your newfound brother, your voice's hesitation and accusatory tone vanished. 
“I can see souls,” you whispered. Neither Yuji nor Gojo replied, but you could feel their gaze as you fiddled with your thumbs. “I don’t like to. It’s invasive. I only do it as confirmation.”
“Of what?” Gojo asked. 
“That I'm making the right decision.”
How extraordinary. With all the power you wielded, you could use it for good. You had kept it a secret, had lived among those who were weaker with no hunger for anything more.  
But Gojo could see more than you could ever imagine. He could see your potential bubbling, strengthening each time you gathered the willpower to use it. Did you even know you could scramble someone’s mind with a technique like that? 
“I just needed to know, Yuji.” You bit your lip. “Forgive me.” 
“It's fine,” he replied. “You’re right.” 
You lifted your head. 
“I'm a vessel,” Yuji said. “There’s a demon inside me.” 
“What!?” Your voice raised with concern. 
“Its under control for now,” Gojo interjected. Before you could say anything else, he continued. “Yuji, its getting late, go back to your room. We will talk later.” 
He nodded and rose from the chair immediately, which shocked you. “It was nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” Yuji lowered his head respectfully. 
“Wait, Yuji!’ You stood up and rushed toward him, handing him a post-it note you snatched from Gojo’s desk with your phone number scribbled. 
“If you need me,” you whispered faintly. “I’ll be there.” 
Smiling brightly once again, Yuji took the note from you and embraced you. “I’ll see you tomorrow sister, yeah?” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured, watching him leave and sliding the office door shut. Your head turned with his footsteps as they pattered down the hallway, only hoping he got back to his bedroom safely. What you had learned was nothing short of terrifying, but if he allowed you to be there every step of the way, you would. 
“There's an extra room for you,” Gojo said after a stretch of silence. “I think you should stay.” 
“I’ll be alright.” You smiled. “My motel is only a few minutes away.” 
Gojo had a horrible feeling about it but knew he couldn't do anything to stop you. It would be impossible to convince you of things you couldn’t understand. Even if Yuji was your brother, he was still a stranger. So was Gojo, but he was wary of letting you leave now that you knew part of the truth, possibly one of the best-hidden secrets in the world. The least he could do for his sanity was give you his number and a few incentives to make you return and remain comfortable. 
“How much is the motel room?” He asked nonchalantly. 
“About 10,00 yen.” You shrugged. “Nothing fancy.” 
Reaching into his pocket, Gojo pulled out his wallet. You watched him with a confused expression as he separated the bills and handed them to you. “This should cover tonight, but after that cancel the room.” 
Hesitantly, you let him place the bills in your hand. “Gojo, I don’t-” 
“If you want to learn everything I can teach you, what I’ve been teaching Yuji-” he paused momentarily, awkwardly reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. “You may become a target. You’ll be put in danger, so I need you to stay on campus.” 
You took a moment to mull over his words, the way he said them. His once confident posture had become somewhat humble, and you thought over your answer as Gojo turned to grab a post-it note and scribble on it.
“Preferably… as close to me as possible.” He faltered but pinched the paper between his fingers and brandished it to you, waiting for you to take it, to accept the deal he wanted to make. 
Snatching the note, you saw that it was his phone number. And next to it was nothing less than a winky face. 
Your eyes shot to what would be his, immediately searching for any signs of a prank. Yes, it made complete sense for him to give you his number, but your heart sensed an ulterior motive behind it, and you couldn’t help but blush, finally understanding what he said. 
Gojo grinned at your stupified expression. 
Tilting your chin up, you recovered from your hesitation.“I won’t trust you until I see your soul.” Was all you said, but then went to pull out your phone and save his number in your contents.  
“You can’t see it now?” Gojo smirked. 
Shoving your phone back in your pocket, you began to take your leave, only looking over your shoulder once you had slid the door back open. 
“Take off your blindfold,” you requested again.  
“Not a chance.” 
You chuckled, nodding your head in acceptance. It did bum you out, though, as you suspected the eyes under that blindfold to be incredibly mystifying. A pair that would only cloud your judgment, if anything. Gojo had already flattered you enough for one day, and you didn’t want to get your hopes up that the flirtatious sorcerer wanted something more. 
It would have been easy to tell if he took that blindfold off. Perhaps it was the mystery that intrigued you. A mystery that would eventually torture you if you couldn’t solve it. 
“Goodnight, Gojo.” 
And then you left, stepping through that barrier like you had only hours ago. But this time, leaving felt much more intimidating. The safety you felt inside was no longer surrounding you, and you were left in the middle of a forest, standing on the decaying steps of an abandoned cabin, with your car only meters away. 
The crickets were loud, and so was the wind. It was cold and dark compared to what you’d witnessed being so close to Itadori and Gojo. 
But it was too late now, and you had too many belongings inside that motel room to lose. As you walked to your car and started it up, you rummented over the proposal Gojo made. Staying there couldn’t be that bad, right? 
For some reason, you felt the urge to send Gojo a text before departing. Perhaps he’d instilled a new fear in you, but you also learned to listen to your intuition when your gift was absent. Your mind was in shambles, your instincts convincing you that something bad would happen if you left. 
Stay. Your mind blared. Stay the night. 
Taking a deep breath, you ignored the warnings and theorized them to just be the intrusive thoughts that came with being in the presence of an attractive, powerful man. 
Y/N:> Leaving now, thank you for the money. 
Annoying ass teacher guy:> Let me know when you get back ;)
Y/N:> fine 
Annoying ass teacher guy:>I’m open to pictures as well
Annoying ass teacher guy:> I mean
Annoying ass teacher guy:> As proof that your safe 
Y/N:> you’re*
>Contact Name Successfully Changed
Yuji’s beautiful sister:> it’s gonna take more than 10k yen to impress me 
Annoying ass teacher guy:> noted
Shaking your head, you tossed your phone in the passenger seat and drove off. The teasing made you smile enough to etch a giggle from your lips. Embarrassing. It had been way too long since you’d flirted with someone. 
Your giddiness only lasted for a few minutes, though, as the further out you drove, the stronger your trepidation felt. You turned your music up louder and glanced at your GPS. Only a few more minutes. A few more minutes and you would be in your room, safe and sound. 
Down the long stretch of road, you could see the light illuminating through the forest, the neon-lit sign peeking over the darkness of the trees. 
Shoulders relaxing, you were about to admit you were only paranoid before the hairs on your neck stood up. It made you gasp, the sudden alert of evil eyes on your frame, location, and vulnerability. 
With one hand on the wheel, the other desperately reached for your phone. You quickly opened it and tried to type a coherent message with your thumb. 
Yuji’s beautiful sister:> something is wronfgg
And when you glanced in the rearview mirror, your heart almost stopped at what was barreling down the street toward your car. 
“Fuck!” You screamed, only seeing the mass gain a staggering distance with each significant, inhuman stride. A curse. A large one, an intelligent one. Something way more advanced than your current capabilities. 
You barely managed to press call before watching its arms reach out, seeming to stretch misshapenly, its mouth opening with a deadly, vengeful smile. 
Instinct took over, and you slammed on your brakes, screeching to a stop. The force of its body colliding with your car caused you to lurch forward in your seatbelt and slam against the wheel. Coughing, you looked up and saw its body fly over your car and smack against the pavement. It rolled, seeming to break into pieces before they snapped back together. 
The curse jolted, and you heard it scream. 
All you could smell was the burnout from your tires. You were frozen in place, hands gripping the steering wheel with so much force that your knuckles were starting to cramp. Your foot was still pressing the brake to the floor. 
“Y/N?!” You heard Gojo’s voice yell through the phone speaker. “Are you okay?” 
You coughed again, struggling to breathe. But his voice snapped you back into place, the adrenaline fading only enough that you were able to speak. 
“No,” you whispered, unable to think of an explanation on how to describe the situation to him. 
“Where are you?!” Gojo asked a little louder, a little more frantic. 
But his questions faded into nothing as the ringing in your ears grew louder. The curse shot up from the ground, its neck cracking back into place, flexing a total of six arms. That same decrepit smile was still on its face. You couldn’t even fathom what it was and what it could possibly want with you. 
“On the road, just by the motel—!” You rushed as a sob of fear rose in your throat.
There was no way to know. The why didn’t matter when you were the prey. You wouldn’t even live long enough to ask. 
“I think I’m gonna die,” you whispered as the curse took a wobbly step forward. Despite its imbalance, the ground still rumbled from the weight and force. 
Its mouth snapped open, revealing layers of razor-sharp teeth and a decaying uvula. Its mouth consumed its entire face, causing you to scream in fear. 
Then, the creature lunged as you slammed on the gas.
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for-ests · 7 months
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Damsel | Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Part 1 / Part 2 / Masterlist
Summary: Now that you and Miguel are finally alone, all he can think to do is take care of you. But unfortunately, processing death can be overwhelming.
Word count: 3, 475
Warnings: none for now ;)
⋆。 ☼ 𐦍 ☼ 。⋆
Miguel did. He played them so well that you might have felt complete and utter euphoria for the first time in your life. 
His room was small and plain, and if you’d been more able, you would have studied it longer, but he led you straight to the bathroom as you requested, only teasing you with the thought of a kiss but not giving in. 
Oh, he would make you beg for it when you were ready. 
He tried not to look, but you knew he was. He was helping you, after all, and as he peeled away your equally skin-tight suit, his breathing started to grow ragged. Your body was just as ravishing as he imagined, as he felt in his dreams. And your wings— they fluttered in response as he touched your shoulders and the small of your back. 
But your iridescent eyes were what captivated him the most. It was hard to breathe when you looked at him with those eyes, seductive and teasing, confident and understanding of what you were doing to him. 
“I’ll step outside," He said, feeling himself grow hard in the most inappropriate moment possible. 
Wanting to look at him, you managed not to. All you needed was a few minutes to rinse off, and then you could play your game, which was pure fantasy until then. The man you craved was now coming undone behind you. 
“When I’m ready,” You whispered, reaching over and turning the showerhead on. “I’ll call you back in.” 
Miguel was speechless as you loosened the suit and let it fall down from your shoulders. He would have pounced at your innuendo with purely lustful intentions until he glimpsed the darkening bruises dotting down your spine. 
Whether it was bothering you or not, it looked painful enough. You watched as his expression softened with worry. 
“I’ll take care of you.” He said, the need in his tone vanishing into something more careful. And before you could reply, he left the bathroom. 
⋆。 ☼ 𐦍 ☼ 。⋆
The water was your saving grace at that moment. You stood in the insanely large shower, watching the blood drip off your body and circle the drain. Your muscles immediately loosened against the steam, and so did your previously congested sinuses. 
Minutes passed, yet the water still wasn’t clear, melting layer after layer until you lost track of time. What made you dissociate was the neverending cascade of red, flowing in crimson streams that contrasted against the white tile. 
Nathan. 
When the tears came, they mingled with the scalding water. You tilted your head up and let the shower head beat against your face, washing away the tears again. If only you could stay in there forever, if only life was different. 
If only you realized the danger he was in sooner. If only this wasn’t your fate. If only Nathan’s life hadn’t been tethered to yours. He would still be alive. Your being had deprived a daughter of her father. 
The guilt, the shame, and the heartbreak became too much. 
Almost crying out, you smashed your hand against the bathroom wall. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t even have the time to grieve. You were being selfish, a coward, when you should be back home and caring for Nathan’s family. 
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Miguel called inside. 
Suddenly, you snapped back to reality. “Yeah,” You replied, instinctively reaching to wipe your face even though it was already wet, glancing around the shower to realize you hadn’t adequately washed a single part of your body with anything but water. 
“You didn’t call for me,” He sighed. “I got worried.” 
“How long has it been?” You limped to the curtain and pulled it back to reveal your face. 
Miguel noticed how red and puffy your eyes were, and it caused him to frown. “Thirty minutes.” 
“Oh…” You trailed off. “I’m sorry.” 
A moment of silence passed, and Miguel was debating what to do. He was still unsure if you wanted time to process your grief or if you didn’t want to be alone. So many things still needed to be uncovered; there was still so much to learn about you, how you thought, how you were, and what you wished for. Staring at you like that, past your beauty and radiance, he realized you were experiencing the same grief he felt when he lost his daughter. An overwhelming, consuming form of despair that could only follow the responsibility of a protector. 
That type of loss could make someone go insane. It could change someone completely. Miguel had wanted someone, anyone, to reach out. But no one had been there for him. He’d be damned if you had to go through something like this alone, now or ever again.
Someone had to take care of you; he wanted it to be him. 
“Let me help,” Miguel offered, hinting that he knew you weren’t clean yet. If you hadn't been so fatigued physically and mentally, you would have rebutted flirtatiously, maybe even laughed. But now, there was an aura of sadness hanging heavily around you. Miguel could see it clear as day, not just in how your eyes begged for comfort but in how you spoke to him. Gone was that fiery persona and fight in your eyes. Yet he wasn’t deterred, only understanding. You had done a good enough job holding in your emotions, and he would be there for you when you let it all out. 
With eyes searching yours for any hint of apprehension, you watched his muscles contort as he raised his arms above his head and discarded his shirt. You could not look away, only enraptured with his gaze. He tugged at his waistband, expression filled with compassion. Despite the overtly sexual nature, there was nothing predatory in his movements, only the desperation to comfort you. 
Flustered, you retreated back under the warm water. When Miguel stepped in, you still expected his eyes to linger across your body. He was only a man, and you were well-versed in the art of seduction. You also wanted yours–but you just couldn’t muster up the energy to explore. 
“Just relax, I’ll wash you,” He reassured softly, reaffirming how sincere his intentions were. You nodded as he squeezed shampoo into his hands, gesturing for you to turn around. As you obliged, he began to lather it into your hair, fingers massaging across your scalp in smooth circles, determined to get all the blood and dirt out. 
It felt amazing, and you were able to relax, so much so that a few moans of gratification left your lips every time he nudged your head in another motion. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” Miguel asked when you turned back around and let the shower head rinse his work away.  
Head tilted back, you still had to look up to meet his eyes. What a contradiction he was with you, deep brown eyes that pleaded for answers, voice low and timid, waiting for you to lead. If anything, you thought he was scared of you and how you would react. 
If your face hadn’t been so sore, practically limp from all the fighting and talking, you would have smiled, maybe even laughed. Did anyone else notice this side of him? Was he ever this kind or attentive to the other Spiders? They all seemed on-edge around him, and all he did in that conference was brood. Until the topic turned to you. 
Appearances and authority were a must. You couldn’t fault Miguel on that—even if you were an outsider, the hierarchy there was already clear. There were rules to follow, rules that had somehow found their way onto your planet. You didn’t want to bother him with your wailing heart. You were content at bottling it all up inside, even if you could tell he wanted to see every part of you, the good and the bad.
All you could think about was that he might not understand. It may be too much to unravel. 
“I…” You faltered again, about to admit it all as Miguel reached out and grasped your shoulders, turning you back around. Despite the heat, you shivered as his hands curled through your soaking wet hair and brought it back behind you shoulders. He was silent as he worked, lathering conditioner into your locks. 
“Do you want to?” He asked again, touch more gentle this time, beckoning you into admittance. When he was done, his hands rested against your neck, and you couldn't help but slouch into him. 
Yes, you needed to. 
“Nathan died.” You felt your lip quiver. Inhaling quickly, you opted to keep talking, not wanting him to reply just yet. If anything, keeping Nathan’s memory alive was what mattered, even to the people who never got to experience the joy and safety he provided you. “He was like a father to me.” 
Miguel only wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. Every part of his body was pressed tenderly against you. Your hands came to curl around his forearms, your chin perfectly resting on them as well. You felt so safe, so appreciated from a single embrace alone. For once, maybe someone could understand the pain, someone that was your equal, who had experienced the same things you did. 
“I couldn’t save him.” Your eyes started to tear up again. That was until you felt Miguel press his lips against the back of your head. Exhaling shakily, you closed your eyes, wanting to focus on the feeling of him instead. 
The callback to your dreams was enough to calm you down. There had been so many, with you in his arms, the yearning to feel his skin pressed against yours, as you were now. It felt surreal, and just as blissful as the dreams. 
“It’s impossible to save everyone, Y/N.” Miguel assured in a whisper, barely audible against the pelting water cascading down the both of you. 
“I know.” You inhaled sharply, not wanting to think about the countless other corpses that littered your past. “But now that he’s gone… I don’t know whats going to happen back home, especially since I’m gone too.” Pausing, you tried to think of something else to say. But now, all you could see was that precious little girl’s face. Her smile undoubtedly gone and replaced with the same sadness on your face. “I should be there for Rosie, his daughter.” 
Miguel seemed to physically deflate against you before mustering up a reply. “It’s stable for now.” He promised, letting his arms fall away. “We can go back first thing tomorrow if you’d like.” 
Miguel felt shaky as he took his next breath. Nothing was certain in the multiverse, but now, you were in his arms. You were safe. As he held you, he realized that he would go to the ends of the universe for you. Feeling his skin against yours , how you perfectly fit against him. Anything to make you happy, he would accomplish. Anything for your love. And he knew how irrational it was. 
“You’d come with me?” You turned around to face him. It was the last thing you expected him to offer. He must have a laundry list of other problems to attend to. 
“Of course I will. Even if you don’t need the back up.” 
That response was enough for you to configure that he was, indeed, curious to see your world after all. 
Little did you know, that Miguel was then devoted to your home. It was where you were from, a place you clearly loved, possibly one of the only planets that was untainted and beautiful until recently. But of course, it was where you would be. And that was enough for him. If your planet was safe, then you would be too. 
“You will love it.” You whispered in response, attention falling back to his hands and how they were massaging every part of you so tenderly and attentive. 
His big hands were rough and calloused, yet he worked them gently across your skin, soothing your muscles further, squeezing some soap into your hands so you could reach the places he was hesitant to touch. No boundaries needed to be crossed that night, even if you were both in compromising positions. 
Even so, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at Miguel, his once fluffy hair now flattened against his handsome face, chest rising and falling from nervousness, water streaming down his golden skin and body completely exposed to you, everything he had to offer in his entirety. You suspected that his lips tasted like honey. 
“Can I wash your wings?” Miguel asked, letting his hands stop right before the spot they began to sprout from your back. 
You bit your lip, becoming flustered at the thought alone. “I’ve never let anyone touch my wings before.” You admitted, wondering if you should accept the offer or just do it yourself. They were incredibly sensitive, and you were particularly vulnerable in that moment. 
“I-I don’t have to.” He stammered quickly, unsure what you meant. He knew they would look even more beautiful once they were washed properly. Every time he glanced at them, all he could see through them was how perfectly sculpted your ass was. It was far too dirty and he knew it, and he would never cross that boundary without your permission. But how he craved to. 
“If you promise to be careful.” 
“I wont be anything but.” He whispered, taking one of the four wings in his hands eagerly. 
You shuddered immediately at his careful touch. It was more of a caress, and you knew he was staring at them with fascination, the soap gliding around your back, and, in turn, washing the dirt and grime off your wings. He washed them like he’d done it before, and all you wanted to do was kiss him. He was silent as he worked, and it took all of you not to express your appreciation and comfort. 
The iridescent colors were hardly visible in the dim bathroom lighting, but Miguel watched them come clean, and he was breathless. What a mystery you were, a mystery he did not just want to solve, but know and cherish every intimate detail. 
When his hands touched the small of your back, rubbing small circles right above your ass, you instinctively flexed your wings out, entirely and utterly flustered. 
Miguel chuckled deeply at your reaction, nudging you to turn back and rinse again. You obliged yet kept your gaze elsewhere, unsure what to think and how to process it. Many lovers had come and gone from your bed, but none of them had ever made you feel like this. The idea of even sharing such an intimate moment with another man never crossed your mind. 
And you just let him. You allowed him to take care of you, and he wanted to. 
“Que hermosa mujer eres.” He whispered, lifting your chin with his finger, beckoning you to look at him. 
Again, he spoke foreign words into your ears, yet the way he said it, made you bite your lip in anticipation. Part of you didn’t even need to ask what it meant—you knew it was a compliment. Timidly, you reached up to loop your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. 
“Thank you.” You hummed in response, breasts pressing against his unclothed chest, the water still raining down on both of you, but now you were clean. 
Finally, Miguel gained the courage to close the previously insurmountable gap between you, mending his lips with yours so perfectly that your knees felt like buckling. But he held you tightly against him, as tight as he could in your healing state, desperate to taste you. 
And you tasted as sweetly as he imagined. He was addicted from one kiss alone, and felt his heart cry out when you reciprocated and deepened the kiss, your smaller hands clawing at him with the same amount of need. He felt something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, but even then, it was more, it was incomparable. 
It scared him. 
“Miguel…” You muttered against his lips, your heart beating rapidly and with so much desire you could hardly fathom the emotions racing through your head. He tåsted just like the honey you thought he would, and you knew then that it would be your new drug that you would seek for the rest of your life. 
Granting you one more passionate kiss, Miguel pulled his head back. He stared at you with so much longing that you felt like the most beautiful woman in every universe. The back of his hand brushed against your cheek again, like the first time. 
“Let’s get you to bed.” Miguel smiled. 
You nodded, watching as he turned the shower off. You stepped out first and grabbed the nearest towel, wrapping it around your frail body before you allowed yourself to feel the cold. 
Following suit, Miguel began to dry himself off behind you. 
You tried to move closer to the bed, but he grasped your wrist and pulled you into him. Your hand came to stop yourself, pressing against his chest. “What?” You squeaked with surprise. 
“I just wanted to kiss you again,” Miguel whispered, his lips inches from yours. “I can’t seem to get enough.” 
A smile spread across your face. “Go ahead.” 
The second kiss he gave you was better than the first. It was magical; it made your head spin with a tremendous amount of infatuation that you felt like you were back in that same dream you’d been referencing for the last year. 
You kissed him back with the same amount of need, tongue swirling with tongue, feeling your stomach heat with desire and passion. It could go farther than you anticipated, and you wouldn’t feel remorse for doing so. If Miguel wanted to ravish you right then and there despite your state, you would let him. Anything for him. 
But, when you felt your ass brush against the edge of the bed, you chuckled in response, realizing he was trying to get you into the bed he promised. His lips left yours, shaking his head with a smirk. “You are far too eager, Hermosa.” 
“I’ve been waiting just as long as you,” You replied with a pout, finally sitting against the mattress, watching him as he peeled away the covers. 
“I can sleep on the couch—”
“Absolutly not.” Your voice was unyielding. “I’ll just go to Gwen’s room then.” 
“Absolutly not,” Miguel mimicked you, gripping your ankles and tossing them onto the bed, making you lay flat with your head propped up. “I said I would take care of you.” 
“How sweet,” You said, refusing to move as you watched him shuffle through the room, locking the door and turning the lights off, slipping into a pair of boxers before finally taking his place beside you in the bed. 
The bed dipped as he got comfortable in the darkness, shifting his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. 
Stilling immediately, your body morphed blissfully with his, every curve of you aligned with him as if he was made for you. The sensation was so intense that your body no longer felt pain. You felt as if you were the only girl in the world. Ass pressed against him, arms enveloping your smaller frame, caressing all the spots of your skin his fingers could reach. 
“What are the plans tomorrow?” You whispered, feeling yourself beginning to drift away. 
“Whatever you want,” He replied, just as fatigued but enjoying the warmth of your body and the comfort it brought. 
“What do you need from me?” You sighed, pulling his hand into your chest and letting it rest between your breasts. All you could remember was the urgency you felt in that conference room, how stressed Miguel was, how he acted like every responsibility was his to deal with alone, even those out of his control. The other Spiders' confused stares and cruel discomfort didn’t help either. 
“What you’re willing to give me,” Miguel muttered into the crook of your neck, his breaths growing heavier each second. “Whatever you want.” 
Practically shuddering from the heat of his breath, from the faint touch of his lips against your already burning skin, you nudged yourself closer to him than physically possible. “I would love to show you my home.” 
You felt his lips curve against your skin in reply, arms tightening around your waist. 
And the two of you fell fast asleep, completely and utterly intertwined with the other. As you drifted off, contentment spread across your face, already predicting it would be the best slumber of your life, feeling safer and more protected than you could’ve ever dreamed of. 
tag list! I'm sorry that its been so long, if you use ao3 im also posting on there! also a shorter chapter bc I had to split it up!
@thesilenthill @nightshxdex @nataliahemsworth @buggiecrawls @saltyluminaryvoid @casuallyawkardd @chinaza444 @bontenboys @undertale-anomaly20 @bogbutter-onmycroissant @stateofcatatonia @ariparri @graesage @currentlyinflames
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for-ests · 7 months
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I'm still not over how majestic he looked here.
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for-ests · 8 months
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Damsel | Miguel O'Hara x Reader Part 2
Part 1 | Masterlist
Summary: Face to face with the man in your dreams, you are now forced to deal with the reality of your situation and the perils that lay ahead. During it all, you see more familiar faces and are introduced to new ones, all of them confused with the complexity of your relationship with Miguel.
Word count: 5,962
Rating: no warnings for this chapter (will need some editing tho)
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F! Spider Reader
⋆。 ☼ 𐦍 ☼ 。⋆
Gwen and Jessica stood as still as statues, utterly dumbfounded by what was unfolding. Hell had to freeze over before Miguel would show any signs of affection, let alone touch someone else so tenderly. 
That was what it felt like to you. The affirmation that you were never crazy and that he had the same dreams you did. The same longing was there, the desolation, the recognition, and then, the happiness.
In response, you leaned into the gentle touch, reaching up to rest your hand over his own. It really was him. Even his hands were the same, the way he touched you was the same. It made your heart flutter, remembering how you worshipped him in your dreams, how he worshipped you. 
“Your name?” Miguel asked, the edges of his mouth curving into a smile. A smile that took your breath away. 
“Y/N,” You whispered after a second passed, only to him, unable to tear your gaze away from his. It felt surreal; everything you’d longed for was finally right before you. 
For Miguel, everything he had ever wished for clicked into place. Somehow, he knew you were his saving grace. One glance at you, and he submitted. He would do anything to make you happy, go to the ends of the multiverse, destroy himself, and abandon everything he'd previously held dear. 
The overwhelming realization scared him. Even if you could save him from his misery, it was never that black and white. It was never that simple. The infatuation and the memories were intense, but for both of you, it couldn’t make the past tribulations disappear.
A past he feared you wouldn't be able to understand. 
A second after you rested your hand on his, Miguel tore it away. He let it fall to his side as if the touch was never there. But, his eyes lingered, all his responsibilities of the multiverse seeming to fall into second place, leaving only you. 
Everything he’d ever wanted was right in front of him. Everything except his daughter. He knew his dreams were different than yours. Some of them were the same, and the look in your eyes confirmed it. The future memories flooded his brain, your smile, your nurturing touch, and how amazing it all felt to be in your presence, to be yours. 
Glimpsing you alone was a privilege, and he couldn't stop looking. The sound of your moans filled his ears, and he was finally able to relate it to your angelic voice. He smelled your intoxicating scent, gaze moving to your lips. All he wanted was a taste. He wanted every part of you and more. Anything from you would be enough. 
Stunning, despite the filth that covered you. It was hard for Miguel to tear his gaze away from your iridescent eyes that seemed all-knowing. A pair of eyes that had haunted his dreams for the last year. 
“Hermosa,” He whispered, taking a step back, his touch abruptly retreating. He sensed that he'd been analyzing you for too long, feeling the confused stares of Gwen and Jessica on his back. 
Your lip threatened to quiver in response, yet you remained jagged, just staring at him, taking in his presence, cherishing it. Being there with him, for only a moment, was satisfying enough—it confirmed your months of questioning where you thought you were longing for a man that wasn’t real. 
“I finally know your name,” You said, on the verge of a smile. But that was enough, for once his warmth left you, reality set into place. Acknowledgment was enough for you. For there were more pressing matters to face. His retrieval stung against the irrational part of your mind, yet you couldn’t make him the villain. You had only just met. 
And you didn’t know where you were. You didn't even know who Miguel really was, what he’d done. He was still a stranger, even if it didn’t feel like it. 
As you’d suspected, it was too good to be true. The look in his eyes disputed your perception. The initial wonder was gone, replaced with a formality you despised. Like you were just another spider person, another woman blessed to cross his path. 
Your fists curled at your sides. Miguel's back was turned again, his eyes darting around to everything but you. The call-out was at the tip of your tongue until his authoritative voice echoed throughout the entire hall and beyond it. 
“Why is she still bloody?” He demanded, turning to Gwen and Jessica with a snarl. 
Gwen tensed, but Jessica rolled her eyes. “We were waiting for you, asshole.” 
Stiffening, Miguel stared at her. Of course, Jessica would. His emotions had gotten the best of him, and now it was apparent. The last thing he wanted to happen, the last thing he expected. Now, he looked like a fool in front of his associates. 
“What the fuck is happening?” Gwen asked, mouth hanging wide open. Only minutes had passed since your arrival, and Miguel looked like a deer in the headlights. 
Disregarding her, Miguel turned back to you. “Are you hurt?” 
You shook your head. It was nothing he could fix, and you were now adamant about not showing your fear or pain in front of him. A reason you didn’t know why. 
Despite your response, it was as if he could see right through you. But, he didn’t say anything. You were awaiting answers only he could give you, and he preferred to not have an audience. It was time to be professional, it was his own fault for setting those boundaries, and he couldn’t show weakness by being soft to a beautiful woman who only just appeared. 
Eyes lingering for a moment longer than necessary, Miguel hesitantly left your side and retreated back behind the hologram. Your eyes drifted to the glass still shattered on the floor, and you winced at the mess you made. 
Seeing your discomfort, Gwen approached you again, stepping over the puddle of water. 
Weakly, you smiled at her. She mouthed a comforting question before nodding back to the chair where you once sat. You let her lead you back without protest, head undeniably spinning from the previous battle and the other-worldly encounter that just occurred. None of this made sense, and you had an inkling that the other spider-people in the room with you did not have an explanation either. 
“Do you two know each other?” Jessica questioned Miguel quietly, but you heard. 
“Now is not the time to explain,” He said, voice incredibly firm, a stark contrast from how he’d spoken to you. The stress radiating off of him was obvious, and so was the tension between you. Something inside of you theorized that he was embarrassed by his reactions to you, and you were unsure how to unpack the feeling of dread it gave you. 
For the first time in your life, you had nothing to say for what seemed to stretch hours. Miguel was so dominating that you couldn’t even form a thought. All you could do was watch him with analyzing and enticing eyes. 
Viewing their interactions, you were able to decipher the hierarchy. Watching him dictate everyone and everything made your composure waver. The last person you suspected of fantasizing over was the leader, the creator of this said society of like-minded people. 
People supposedly just like you. 
“Do you know him?” Gwen leaned down to your ear and whispered so quietly that you could barely hear her. 
Again, all you could do was nod. It should be enough. You didn’t really know Miguel, but it felt like you did. The look in his eyes confirmed that he knew the most intimate parts of your body and mind. 
Tilting your head to give her satisfaction, you muttered, “I’ll tell you later.” 
Half smirking, she stepped back behind you, curling her fingers around the corners of the chair. “I’ll be waiting.” 
At her reply, you laughed, probably more than you should have, but it was refreshing. Sitting in that chair caked in filth was enough of a task, and you were getting uncomfortable. 
For a brief moment, your eyes flashed to the screen. Stats that you could hardly recognize, although it reiterated what you already knew—a planet dying. 
A planet that shouldn’t exist. Creatures with unimaginable height and strength, scientists with too much knowledge for their surroundings, humans of staggering size, and powers that made no sense. But most important—resources. Too many that stretched across the entire planet. The trees, the rivers, the animals, even the anomalies. For a second, your heart panged in fear. What if? What if they decided to exploit it all? 
Irrationally, you tensed. Intentional or not, now you were the weakling. Your planet, your home, and your loved ones were left unprotected. All the strength you previously exuded was now quaint. They could kill you, and you couldn’t fight back. The curse of your abilities, of being in a different universe foreign to you. Even the air seemed harder to breathe in, with oxygen levels far lower than you were accustomed to. 
“And you're sure she's connected?” The holographic woman sighed, somehow sipping on a drink through her star-shaped glasses, sitting on Miguel’s shoulder in a way that made you narrow your eyebrows. 
“You tell me.” He huffed, swiping through too many graphics that it made your head whirl. For some reason, you knew he was putting up a front. It was too much of a contrast to prove otherwise. He could hardly look you in the eyes. 
“She’s the sole protector of her planet, with similar abilities,” Jessica said, butting in to zoom in on a paragraph that displayed a language you didn't understand. “And now that she’s gone, the levels are up…” 
“The oxygen levels are higher on the planet than most.” Miguel swiped his hand, and the hologram followed the command. “The highest I’ve ever seen.” 
Before you could realize it, Gwen had left your side, standing right behind Jessica to view the information. It was all new to them, but it was common sense to you. Even so, you felt no hatred, for your position was switched. You had no idea where you were, how these people worked, and why they were even interested in you. 
The three of them were stumped, even the AI woman. Without thinking, a sigh of annoyance left your lips. The slighted noise made them all snap their heads toward you. 
“What is the significance of Heinkaffe?” Miguel questioned, his voice softer than before now that he was addressing you. 
“The black death was in all of your universes, yes?” You scoffed. On your planet, those idiotic scientists had now stained the name. Before the organization came into power, Heinkaffe was renowned as your planet’s savior, the man who invented the cure that saved the generations before you. 
The holographic switched so fast that it glitched, seeming to browse millions of planets in less than 30 seconds. 
“No way that was her planet’s first canon event.” The AI woman, who you still didn't know the name of, grumbled in frustration. 
“For mine that happened over 700 years ago,” Gwen whispered. 
“For us, it did too,” You replied, tone somber enough for them to pick up on it. 
“How so?” Jessica asked, curious to understand the timeline. 
It had taken you almost all of your life to unravel how your planet worked and how you could protect it. There were too many secrets that you'd held onto for years, waiting for the right moment to explain them all in return for proper assistance. Now was your chance. 
But secrets were a form of power. It was how you established your credibility on your sparsely populated planet. That was how the elite came into power long before you were born. It was what killed your mother, later leading you to absorb what she could not. 
The future of your earth was in your hands. The common practices you'd been forced to deal with were no longer applicable. Not if you wanted peace or protection. 
That was what led you to tell the truth. Even if you didn’t trust them all thoroughly, it was enough. Your planet needed help, and you were the only one who had ever had contact with anyone outside of it. The spider people didn’t need to tell you that your home was already in shambles, that it was on the verge of vanishing from existence. 
“Ninety percent of the planet died that year,” You said. “And only a decade ago was there a proper increase.” 
Silence filled the room. Nobody moved, and nobody breathed. 
Miguel stared at you, trying to configure a hint of a lie, any form of deception—but he came up empty-handed. That type of admittance was unheard of; for every universe he’d visited, every spider person he’d recruited, nobody had ever expressed such a disparity in the timeline that somehow still aligned.  
Indeed, you were different, and it didn’t make sense. You were an anomaly yourself. And if Miguel hadn’t been granted your presence in his dreams, he might not have believed you. You were different, though, unlike anyone he’d ever seen. And he couldn’t deny what he’d seen and how much he craved you. 
It was feverish. Even being able to glimpse you felt like a blessing from every universe. 
“She’s right.” The AI woman replied a minute later. “The planet has the lowest human population I've ever seen.” 
“Other species thrived,” You spoke, fiddling with your bruised hands. “Even some insects are bigger than us.” 
That was shocking to all of them, for you were already staggering in height to everyone but Miguel. 
Your appearance, stature, and admittance sparked a conversation you were not a part of. That was what made you furious, what made you angry. There had only been a few instances in your life that made you feel that emotion, but hearing them in the same room, speak such fantasies about a world they had only viewed for a minute made you furious. 
Their little charts could do no justice for your home. They would have to see it to believe it. 
For the first time in that meeting, Miguel was the only one to not say a word. More spider people gathered around them, people you did not recognize. 
If only Miles was there. Besides Gwen, he was the only person you trusted with everything inside you. Why wasn’t he there? That was the only other planet you’d visited. And you missed him just as much as Gwen. 
The chatter of strangers filled every sense you possessed. 
“Give her space.” Was what you heard next, unable to identify the speaker until you turned in your seat to face them. It was Noir, and it made your mouth upturn only slightly. You nodded at him with thanks. 
“Good to see you again, Damsel.” Noir said, bowing his head modestly while lifting his hat. 
But, everyone else who gathered did not share the same sentiments. Instead of backing away, they closed in, staring at you with cautious eyes and throwing demands toward Miguel, who had no other option but to jump off the platform and to your side. 
Only then did the strangers take steps back. 
The words did not stop, though, and only increased. Their eyes tried to analyze what was projected, a new planet with a person of equal ability but not a spider. You were automatically a freakish outsider. 
“It doesn't make sense!” 
“She's not one of us!”
 “Nobody needs to help her disgusting planet!”
Suddenly claustrophobic, You shot up from your chair, making those closest to you back up slightly. What made you insecure was that you were still filthy, only less than an hour from your supposed cannon event. Everything you'd grown familiar with had been ripped from your grasp. 
Glancing around, all you felt was hatred. Everyone except Miguel, who was hiding it, looked just as tense as you did. 
Where did all of these people come from? 
“She’s not even a spider!”
“Seriously?” A tall young man emerged from the group, getting a little too close to you, causing Miguel to observe with piercing eyes. “We have enough variants here as it is, one of them is actually a Lego and another is a pig. Yet you blokes take issue with a woman that has wings?” 
Gritting your teeth, you kept your chin up and eyes on him as he walked around you. You’d never seen anyone like him before, and the colors that swirled around him were intriguing, along with his hair and piercings. 
“Seems fit enough to me,” He said with a light, teasing tone. “She needs a shower though. Your name, darling?” 
“Y/N,” You replied snarkily, raising an eyebrow. If he wasn’t appraising you like an animal, you would’ve been more inclined to be respectful. You were uncomfortable under the gaze of so many strangers, starting to grow antsy, the panic overtaking the soreness that weighed heavy on every muscle. 
“The name’s Hobie.” He winked before stepping up to the platform and next to Miguel. 
“Do you intend to make Y/N a member of the society, Miguel?” A familiar voice echoed from behind, and who you saw next briefly made the panic fade. It was Peter, and in his hands was a little girl with vibrant red hair. She giggled and waved at you despite your disheveled appearance. 
Miguel’s eyes glanced from Peter’s to yours. “Yes.” He said, “Unique variant or not, it would be foolish to not protect her planet and have inside eyes.” 
There was something he knew that you didn’t. 
“I don’t know how it happened, but her planet is now a part of the arachnoid model. Some events connect while others do not.” 
His response caused an uproar that neither he nor you expected. 
Some voices were supportive, while others expressed concern. Everything became jumbled as you tried to string it all together, to make sense as to what this debate even meant and why some were so wary of you when they hadn’t even seen your darkest secret. Surprisingly, the two spider people that had seen it firsthand stood on either side of you, unfazed. Gwen put her hand back on your shoulder and squeezed it, showing solidarity despite witnessing the horror of what you could genuinely do. 
“Enough,” You blurted before you could stop yourself. If only they could glimpse the size of the spiders on your planet. Maybe they wouldn’t doubt you again if you showed them the truth. 
Everyone in the room turned to face you. 
“Tell me what the hell is going on.” Your eyes bore into Miguel’s, tone sharper and more demanding than you intended. “Right now.” 
Yes, you were weak, but you were going to stand your ground, especially to Miguel. A challenge graced your features, and you would make him listen. It was in the way you held yourself, your expression, and your tone, despite all the agony you’d just endured. 
When you lifted your head, all you expected was anger. But his eyes were swirling with affection and acceptance. 
To everyone’s astonishment but yours, he listened. “Your earth was never supposed to align.” 
“By whose accord?” 
Gwen and Jessica grew ridged beside you. 
“Mine.” Miguel admitted in a softer tone than before. 
“Based on what?” You pried further, almost stumbling as you took a step closer. As you approached the elevated platform, every pair of eyes felt like daggers against your back. 
You rolled your sleeve up and barred the fangs that had torn flesh so deep that it almost touched bone. A scar a few shades different than your natural tone. The bite of a damsel fly, that happened to be significantly larger on your planet. The scar was still on your forearm, and when you closed your eyes on some nights, you could still feel the chunk it ripped from your skin and the poison that changed your very DNA. 
“If my earth isn’t connected, why did my mother die? Why was I tortured? Why did the only man who’s ever protected me die in my arms? Why do I have wings and powers I cannot control?” The words poured out, and you turned to face the strangers that gathered and kept gathering. “Why was I pulled into a different universe last year?!” 
None of them could reply. From your outburst, there were only gasps and quiet murmuring. 
“Look at me.” You hissed at Miguel, knowing he would pick up your underlying meaning. “Stop denying the truth.” 
He did, but it was quick. So quick that everyone else in the room didn’t catch it. That much was obvious, as evident as his reaction to your arrival. He knew. 
And you refused to let him forget it. 
“Everyone that doesn’t have level 2 clearance leave.” Miguel flicked away the hologram. 
The ultimatum in his voice was enough for the hundreds to scatter. What you picked up, though, was the surrender to your defiance. 
With significantly fewer people in the room, your shoulders slightly relaxed. 
“It has nothing to do with you, Y/N.” Jessica assured to fill the awkward silence. “Ignore them.” 
“It has everything to do with her,” Miguel said, running an anxious hand through his hair. “The entire system no longer makes sense. That's why they are scared.” 
“You need to be more specific, Miguel.” Peter said. He looked at you and smiled. You knew Peter would have handed his child over to you if you didn’t still look and smell like you’d just nearly escaped death. 
Resting his hands on the table again, Miguel had to turn his back on you. Every time he looked at you, his thoughts became jumbled. Even if it was clear you could handle yourself, he felt guilty and responsible. 
All he craved was for a minute alone with you. He needed it more than anything. And because of that wish, everyone else but him sensed that your presence was already softening his heart, even if they were unaware of the reason. So, against what his soul craved, he continued. “Your planet is just… different. A spider person there seems futile, or at least it did until recently.” 
Miguel pulled the files back up, satisfied to know that everyone but you was at least knowledgeable about how grave a miscalculation like this could be. Your fate was in their hands, but in the same turn, theirs were too. “Because the population is so low, and to the rest of the universe… somewhat bland.” 
“It was clearly a mistake.” Gwen huffed. “It was beautiful.” 
Your lips curved up slightly at her compliment. “My people are secretive, and superstitious.” 
“So are there things we don’t know about?” Hobie questioned, perking up at the mention of a secret. 
“A lot.” You chuckled in response. 
Miguel noticed it was the first time he heard you laugh, and it was the most beautiful melody he’d ever heard. 
“You can show us.” He meant to ask, but it came out as more of a command. 
Your head snapped to him, eyes narrowed in a glare. “And why would I do that?” 
Hobie whistled. 
“I already said you were accepted.” 
“Mhm.” You looked away. “Explain it all to me right now.” 
There was another stretch of awkward silence. Clearly, you were dancing on the border of disrespect, and you could feel all eyes glancing timidly at Miguel. But all he did was sigh. In your peripheral, you saw Gwen cover her mouth to stifle a laugh. 
Something inside of you told you that if you were overstepping, the people around you wouldn’t be chuckling. Noir and Peter stood off at a farther distance, but they both seemed just as smug. 
“The web of life and destiny.” Miguel sighed, clearly disgruntled but not acknowledging it or demanding anything. At this point, he didn’t care if the others noticed his soft spot for you. “It connects all versions of Spider-People across the multiverse from shared events and attributes. In theory, there were no attributes that connected you until today.” 
“Besides the fact that she met me, Peter, and Noir last year on Miles planet.” Gwen puffed. The look in her eyes reinforced she wanted to say more—like an I told you so. Since she was the first to assist you in your moment of life and death and the one who kept defending you like a friend would, she wanted her year-long theory to be credited. 
You suspected that Miguel was the one who refused her wishes, the one who claimed your planet was unworthy. 
“That much is true,” Noir added. “And what a devil she was.” 
Blushing, you glanced at Noir. 
You were about to reply, but Miguel interrupted you and continued his explanation. It was so condensed that all you could do was listen, everything so convoluted that you were starting to grow overwhelmed again. 
All the information made sense, but the fatigue started getting to you. And when he finally paused, you were done. 
“Where can I take a shower.” You demanded. If they denied you, you would have just returned home to clean up the mess that awaited you. Hours had passed as you were still filthy, sore, and in pain when you let your thoughts linger away from the situation. 
Gwen opened her mouth, but Miguel cut her off. 
“I’ll take you,” He said. 
“Good,” You replied, clenching your jaw to prevent yourself from saying anything else. If you hadn't been so physically drained, you could have taken a bite out of him from the nonchalant treatment. 
The deal happened so fast, too fast for the other spider-people to even open their mouths. Obvious or not, there was no way in hell he would let you shower in another bathroom than his. A plethora of excuses tried to force their way out of his mouth, like there were no other rooms available, you couldn’t be left unsupervised, and he had to give you a watch as soon as possible. But truthfully, it was because you were supposed to be with him, alone. He craved to be alone with you even if it took all his strength to show it in front of the others. That weakness was yet to be explored. 
Finally, he stepped off the platform and came to your side. 
“We will all discuss this later,” Miguel said to the others, unsure if he should take your hand or not. The hesitation was apparent, so you curled your arm around his instead and let him lead you out of the room. 
Almost to the entrance, you heard the rest of them whispering to each other. 
“Did I miss something?” You heard Hobie ask. 
“I think we’re all confused,” Peter replied. 
“Tell me about it.” Jessica huffed. 
Hearing their not-so-quiet conversation, you couldn’t help but curl your lips. Maybe it was best if they didn’t know why you recognized him. Some things were better off remaining private, like the more intimate details that still lingered in the back of your mind. It really was him, and you were not sure how to interact, emphasizing how standoffish he seemed to everyone else but you. 
Neither you nor Miguel could figure out why the connection was there, why it had been almost a year of cruel and tempting dreams, to only wake up alone and an insufferable longing that could not be satiated. And for you, everything you wanted was now right beside you, far too fast to even comprehend it. 
“Are you in pain?” Miguel whispered, letting you lean against him, not realizing how much you needed it. 
“I’ve been the whole time,” You hissed at the relief of him supporting your weight. Most of the pain immediately subsided. 
“I’m sorry we met under these circumstances.” 
“So you do remember?” 
“How could I not.” 
You managed to laugh, but when you did, you winced. It felt like you’d been bludgeoned all over again, the pain evident in your expression despite your healing factor and the elation you wanted to exude. 
Almost choking with your sharp inhale, you wheezed. “I know.” 
The indifference he projected before completely dissolved when he noticed you stumble. 
“I can’t do this,” He muttered gruffly, scooping you into his arms with ease. 
“What are you doing?” You were on the verge of shrieking but instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. 
“Please let me help you,” He whispered. 
“Because you were doing such a good job before—” You retorted, wanting to say it with malice, but stopping short when you locked eyes with him, the rest of your rebuttal dying in your throat. 
So much affection was present that it took your breath away, confirming the same emotions you were struggling to keep contained from the moment you saw him. 
Your giggle echoed down the hall, causing everyone to look at what was unfolding. You. In Miguel’s arms. Such an indescribable sight it was, unfathomable to them all. What was more shocking, though, was that you were comfortable, and he… he was smiling. 
None of them could recall a moment where they had even seen him genuinely laugh. But he was with you, a complete stranger, hoisting you up into his arms, cradling you like he’d done it before, like he cared for you. As if he loved you. 
“They definitely know each other,” Jessica said, her arms crossed. “I don’t know how. But they do.” 
“Y/N didn’t tell me how, but she didn’t say no,” Gwen confirmed. 
“There’s no possible way they’ve met,” Lyla grumbled, now whirling around Jessica but in a more glitching manner. “I would know!” 
Hobie and Noir glanced at each other in concern. 
“I think it's beyond your comprehension, Lyla.” Hobie shrugged, watching Miguel curl his arms around your more petite frame, acting as if you were fragile when you clearly were not. Hobie saw you as anything but that, as you had already established you were far more worthy than any of them could comprehend, even at the discomfort of others.  
Maybe you really were the first woman he’d met that only a man like Miguel could handle. “You’re not real after all.” 
And for once, there was no cheeky rebuttal from Lyla. It shocked Hobie, and when he glanced behind him, Lyla had already vanished. 
Meanwhile, you were finally able to relax in Miguel’s arms. It was clear he wasn’t struggling with your weight and limpness. And your heart swelled at the notion, for this might very well be the first time a man bothered to take care of you. His fingers were gentle, and he held you so cautiously that it shocked you. 
Maybe it was because you were unfortunately still covered in blood that wasn’t yours. So much that your suit was stiff. 
“You acted with such authority I didn’t think you recognized me,” You said, glancing at him with uncertainty. 
“It's so complicated,” He uttered with a hint of annoyance. “I wish I could explain everything to you right now. But I know you’re tired.” 
“Complicated how?” 
“I don’t even fully understand it, and I’m supposed to be the one that does.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” 
“It’s what I deserve,” He disclosed quickly, almost an ultimatum that nobody would be able to change his mind on. 
“I find that hard to believe,” You insisted, voice low and meant to be reassuring, head cocking as you watched his eyes darken, his expression growing tight. 
The atmosphere around the two of you stretched into something somber. You caught it, but only briefly before Miguel spoke, “You don’t know what I’ve done.” 
“You don’t know what I’ve done either,” You remarked, determined to ease whatever pain you’d unintentionally brought up. “Doesn’t make you deserving of…” 
“—When the time is right, we can talk about anything you want. I won’t hide anything from you.” 
“I’ll tell you everything in return,” You whispered. “Just ask.” 
“I would love to know everything about you, Hermosa.” 
Hearing that nickname again and how sensual it sounded from his lips, caused you to blush and relax further into his embrace. “What does that mean?” 
“Beautiful.” 
“How sweet you are all alone with me.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Whatever language he spoke was unfamiliar to you and your people, yet it made your heart race with desire. “Not like my dreams.” 
He readjusted you in his arms, hand hesitantly cupping your ass to hold you closer to him. “Did we have different dreams then?” He chuckled. “Because you were not as sassy to me in them.” 
Snickering, your lips rested against the shell of his ear, exhaling hot against his neck, teasing him so much that he almost shivered. “Did you have a dream this morning?” You purred that fateful amorous question.
He bit hard on his lip, trying to refrain from ravishing you the second he reached his door. It wasn’t fair, all those nights he’d spent finishing himself off to the thought of you, wondering how you tasted and what it would feel like to touch you. It had taken all his strength to not smash his lips against yours and beg for everything you could offer him. But of course, the universe had a cruel sense of humor, as it delivered you to him broken and bruised, on possibly the worst day of your life. 
“I did,” Miguel admitted with a sigh to release the tension. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.” 
“Good." You smirked as he approached the door that you presumed to be his room. The hallway was long, but there didn’t seem to be many other apartments littering it. Your heart started to race as you thought he wouldn’t take you directly to his room. 
Slowly, Miguel lowered you down and let you slide out of his arms, catching you the second your feet could press all your weight to the floor. You leaned against him as he scanned his watch and held the door open for you. 
The lights flickered on as you limped inside. The door clicked shut, and you glanced over your shoulder at Miguel. If the circumstances were different, you couldn’t even imagine what you’d do to him, his moans still echoing in the back of your mind. 
The thoughts you had of him were constantly sinful and indulgent. Completly inappropriate given the circumstances, but it was a welcomed distraction. 
“I’m okay to shower here?” You asked, letting your fingertip run across the dining room table, shocked to find a faint layer of dust on it. There were only two seats that had clearly never been sat in. 
“Yes.” His voice was low, watching your every movement. “You being here feels...right.” 
An unfamiliar sentiment rose in your chest, unlike anything you'd ever felt in response to the words from a male. His presence alone made you forget about everything you’d just endured. A moment of peace in the eye of the storm. 
“—No matter what she tells me.” You caught the last part of his hushed sentence, bringing you back to realize that he stepped closer, arms coming back to engulf you in a proper embrace. 
“Who?” You asked, eyelids starting to droop. It was strange how at home you felt in his arms. The arms of a man you had just met. 
Miguel only chuckled, disregarding your question. “Don’t fall asleep on me. I haven’t even kissed you yet.” 
“I’m dirty,” You groaned but sunk into the heavenly embrace, breathing in his alluring scent. 
“And somehow, you still captivated everyone in the room,” He whispered in your ear, entire body wrapped around your own, refusing to let go despite your weak protest, only letting you shift around to face him. 
“Miguel O’Hara,” You spoke his name softly, tinging from how close his lips were to yours, inviting you to give in. “I pray that you play your cards right.”
⋆。 ☼ 𐦍 ☼ 。⋆
hiii :) sorry this took so long! if you'd like another chapter pls lmk :0
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for-ests · 8 months
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zoo wee mama😫😫
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Miggy🚗🚗
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Multifandom Masterlist ⋆˙⟡♡
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𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠! 𝐈'𝐦 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 ♡ 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝟐𝟒. ➺ wattpad. ao3. ➺ Requests are open for jjk only ♡ ➺ Most recent fic: IN PROCESS
MY HERO ACADEMIA Valkyrie: Hawks x Reader x Dabi † Link to series on: ao3, wattpad † Summary: Betrayal. Lust. Power. Rising from the shadows of her hidden life to save a stranger, Y/N L/N, a young woman with an overpowered quirk, is swept into the limelight when a video of her confronting gang members goes viral. Because of the savagery in her ways, interest from both sides is peaked. Before she can fully process what is happening, Y/N's life is turned upside down- caught between two men with conflicting ideologies that will soon change the society she knows as a whole. † Watch Me Burn: Dabi x Reader: Angst † Shoto Todoroki headcannon 
MISC ANIME ONE SHOTS † Dosage: Gojo Satoru x Reader: Smut † Waiting Game: Ban x Reader: Angst/Smut HAIKYUU!! † Love It If We Made It: Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Also posted on my ao3!) Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 † Summary: You are Karasuno’s volleyball manager, and when you tag along to their first match against Aoba Johsai, you reconnect with your childhood friend, Oikawa Tooru. A relationship soon develops, along with feelings that weren’t present before. Problems soon arise though, because of his reputation, and your troubled past that he didn’t know about. † Late Night: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader: Smut † Kiss Me Again: Bokuto Koutarou x Reader: Fluff † Admit It: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader: Fluff † Please Don’t Go: Kageyama Tobio x Reader: Part 1 / Part 2 Angst † Mine: Sugawara Koushi x Reader: Fluff † Her Way: Terushima Yuuji x Reader: Smut † Surprisingly Soft: Tsukishima Kei x Reader: Fluff Akaashi Keiji w/ fem s/o Bokuto Koutarou w/ fem s/o
SPIDER-MAN Damsel: Miguel O'Hara x Reader Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 † Summary: On Earth 777, you remain the sole protector of your world after your fluke visit to help save Earth 1610. Every night, dreams from another universe haunt you. Some faces are familiar, while others are not, one handsome and striking face above all. The longing grows, and so do the anomalies on your planet—until something goes wrong, and you’re pulled back into the spider-verse you thought you’d never see again, straight into the arms of the man you suspect to be your soulmate. † Always Enough: Peter Parker x Reader: Angst/Fluff
TOM HOLLAND † Falling For You: Tom Holland x Reader  Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 fluff & smut  † The Most Beautiful Sunset: Tom Holland x Reader: Part 1 fluff Tom Holland Thanksgiving Request Where Tom is scared of horror movies  Pregnancy Request  Tom Holland x art! student reader
THE MAZE RUNNER Turn Away and Return: Gally x Reader Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 † Summary: Separated by what you thought was Gally’s death, you tried to move on from the love you once held closest to your heart. You were haunted with the memory of his lifeless body and heartbreaking last words. You couldn't move on, losing yourself more and more each day-until you come face to face with him once again.  Safe With Me: Next x Reader: Part 1 fluff
BANDERSNATCH
Come Undone: Colin Ritman x Reader  Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 † “I don’t have one night stands." A smirk appeared on his lips. “Yet, you were destined to have one with me.” † The Tulips That Nobody Asked For: Stefan Butler x Reader  Part 1 mood board † Dizzy On The Comedown: Colin Ritman x Reader: Part 1 angst  † To Make You Go: Colin Ritman x Reader: Part 1 / Part 2 angst & fluff NSFW Colin Ritman request
MISC Let Go: Connor x Reader (Detroit BH) Blurb  Shaggy vs Thanos x Reader this was a big fat joke  All My Heart To You: Bobby Love Island Game x Reader (1) (request) 
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