#he’s going to be a cutie in this au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greypetrel · 1 year

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@shivunin 's asked prompt n°22 for "Whomever I wished".

I have nothing else to say except: I'm sorry.

A character ship game had @n7viper suggest a Aisling and Fenris ship and my brain caught fire with a AU. Follow the link to read me rambling with more explanations.

Also this is one of my favourite tropes, there’s one scene in the Two Towers (book) that imprinted in my child brain and never left SO you see, my brain went on fire and I also gave this a proper title. And set the poor blorbos on fire as well. Enjoy.

CW: Mentions of abuse, trauma, difficult pregnancies and abortifacent herbs treated as next-day pill.

(did I mention it would have been very angsty?)

Part 2 here, you're welcome.

Some soundtrack if you need some more suffering.

Tis the prompt list if you want me to elaborate further on these two or have me writing some fluff, my brain is on fire

One for the Road

(Intentionally brushing against the other’s fingers when handing them something)

*Somewhere near the Tirashan forest, 9:34 Dragon*

The Arlathven wasn’t busy, this year. The absence of clan Sabrae was noticeable, and voices were running that Kirkwall wasn’t safe, that a storm was coming, that the Asha Bellanaris had been spotted there. But, after the first two day of reunions and ceremonies, the grand celebration for Mythal at the first moonrise of the first day, and the one for Elgar’nan at sunrise, the second evening was more relaxed, and free for everyone to entertain themselves. Usually, Keepers, First and Seconds were to rest and sleep after the first sleepless night of prayers and offerings to the Mother and the Father. But as it often goes, the younger ones would not oblige, and could be found around the camp village, entertaining and partying.

Pavyn was, as per usual, long gone who knows where, and Aisling and Radha were left on their own to find their fun, holding hands and chatting between themselves as they made their way around the aravels and clearings left for fires, tables, benches. People laughed, people played music and sang, hahrens told stories to fascinated groups of children, one big area left bare had some dancing, and they had been stopped twice already by hahrens asking young adults to taste their latest brews and give their opinion.

Getting drunk at the Arlathven was, after all, a rite of passage per se, as well as getting your Vallaslin. If you managed not to puke during the morning ceremonies of the third day, you could consider yourself officially a grown-up person. And the older elves thrived in the unspoken tradition, trying to lure the younger ones into drinking. Laughters all around, there were at least three different songs being sung at the same time, as the two sisters made their way back to their Clan.

“Do you think we lost her?”

“Keep on walking, now turn left-”

They did, briskly changing their course after an aravel, snaking in the narrow passage between that and the next, walking sideways but still refusing to leave their hands.

“And right!”

“Run!”

They made her way in a larger alley, laughing between themselves and slaloming through people, Radha leading her way and Aisling trodding right behind, smaller but swift on her feet. Another turn, another run, and they stopped in the clearing where the clan’s aravels were, catching their breath and laughing. Old Isene scolded her and reminded that they both were adults, technically, they needed to behave as such. But, they didn’t took notice, dismissing her and coming to sit by the fireplace.

“What happened?” Vyrina asked from their side, grumpy because her big belly prevented her from participating in much of the booze. The Keeper herself told her to stay absolutely put and rest plenty. TAnd after three miscarriages in two years, Vyrina wasn't prone to risk it.

“You remember that old lady from Clan Virnehn?”

“The one that brews that horrible thing with absinthe?”

“Her! She found us and wanted us to drink. We ran back here, she was following us with a flask.”

“Actually, she wanted Aisling to drink. As a celebration for her being First and doing so well yesterday.” Radha pointed out, ruffling her sister’s hair.

Vyrina laughed, bumping the blonde’s shoulders.

“Look at you, making a name for yourself!”

“Yeah, I won’t make a name for myself for the worst hangover ever, tho. I need to be up tomorrow, or Pavyn will eat me alive.”

“Do you remember the last time? I still remember the headache!” Vyrina chirped, giggling as she caressed her belly.

“Does he kick yet?” Aisling asked, changing the topic and lighting up.

“Oh yes, here!”

The mom-to-be snatched her friend’s hand, placing it over her belly and moving it around, a little, until-

“Oh!”

“There! Meet your aunt, da’len, she’s the weird one!”

“I’m not weird.”

“You are.” Both told her in chorus, affectionately. As affectionate was the pout that followed.

“Don’t listen to them, little one, I’m the cool aunt that can make sparkles.” Aisling whispered, bending closer to the belly as the baby inside give her another kick, with decision, and made her giggle. “He’s so tiny and cute! Can’t wait to kiss this tiny footsies!” She cooed.

“Don’t tell me. Honestly, wouldn’t recommend having a little gremlin kicking your kidney from inside.”

“Oh, come on, Vee!”

“If you’re so eager, get one for yourself and you’ll tell me how it is.”

“Fat chance.”

“Come on, as if it was a secret whom you dumped Ydun for!”

“I dumped her because she was bossying me around and never let me speak or decide anything! Also, she didn’t want me to study Tevene.” Aisling rebuked, crossing her arms on her chest and staring intently in the fire.

“So you did dump her to study that particular Tevene!”

Vyrina laughed, as Aisling turned ten shades of red one after the other. It wasn’t a mystery that she had a soft spot for Fenris, and that she did all she could to slowly, oh so slowly, creep behind wall after wall of what became quickly something more than a guest of the clan, ever since they found him on the run out of Hasmal and decided to hide him. He stuck around, weeks became months and months became three years now, the Lavellan moving around enough to make his tracks difficult to follow for whomever came searching, and small enough to slip under the radars. Or well, at least until three weeks ago.

Aisling had put her best efforts in making him feel welcomed and, in time, the two became friends. Good friends, and it was clear to the whole clan that the young First had a soft spot for the grumpy, broody fugitive that somehow tolerated her enough even she was a mage and he certainly made no mystery that he trust not mages, his reasons more than comprehensible. They were, honestly, as unlikely to be friends as cute, complimenting each other and finding common ground instead of each other’s differences, pushing the other in directions that they probably wouldn’t have gone on their own. What Aisling would have wanted, for once in her life, was being able to have a crush and pine over someone with none other the wiser. Without the whole clan looking at her and giggling knowingly, embarrassing her. And, right now, without her best friend bored to death because her hard-earned pregnancy kept her on a low level of activity and adoptive older sister both teasing her.

The point was that, all in all, she knew it was unrequited, and something that wasn’t meant to be. No matter how much she tried to appear reliable and controlled and stable, and help him know that not all mages were evil Magisters: the ambush three weeks ago and the meeting with that horrible woman -Hadriana- had very comprehensibly upset him, and remembered her that no matter how hard she tried… She still was a mage, she couldn’t (and frankly wouldn’t) help it, and he had walls that she couldn’t break, no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t undo the past and what has been done to him. And he had no reasons to more than tolerate her around him. She frankly didn’t know how much patience it took him to just… Deal with her sticking around him.

So no, she didn’t want to joke and speak about Fenris and indulge in daydreams that were just that. He helped her realise her first -and only- girlfriend wasn’t really good for her and she was thankful… But that was it. She wouldn’t have acted on it, no matter how much Vyrina was trying to tease her into it and trying to make her say she would have confessed and they would have been happy and have at least ten children with the greenest eyes ever. She didn’t budge, pointedly ignored Radha’s attempt to stop them from that speech. It wouldn’t do: Vyrina had started daydreaming about huge families with ten babies since Aisling was transferred in the clan and they became friends, and when Fionn asked her to bond with him she already had very detailed plans about everything, from her dress to activities and food and how to decorate the aravels for the party. Vyrina jumped at romances like Aisling jumped at sweets. And both were unstoppable.

In the end, the First was saved by her “fated beau”, as Vyrina kept on calling him, by said elf abruptly exiting from the Keeper’s aravel, not caring if the door slammed behind him and all but marching to sit on a loose stool in the corner, away from everyone as he could be without running off from the camp. It wasn’t the first time he brooded, and everyone by now knew to leave him be when he had that face. The girls stopped jesting, each turning to observe the scene, and Deshanna going out of the cart, as poised and calm as ever, looking at Fenris and shaking her head, clearly wanting to say something but instead turning the other way to speak to the hahrens nestled around the firepit and the dinner.

Vyrina and Radha instantly turned to her.

“What’s going on?”

“Radha’s her daughter, properly, why do you both ask me?”

“You’re her daughter too, and her First. And the one in the clan Fenris actually speaks to. They must have told you something!”

“Not a word… Not after… Well.”

She didn’t need to specify after what. Pros and cons of living in a small clan: everyone knew everything of everyone -save Isene who still ignored how Pavyn was having a tryst with her son, her precious son who had to be bonded to the First of Clan Ghilain in two days. So, everyone knew that a group of mercenaries had finally found Fenris and ambushed him, involving Aisling and Pavyn as well as three other hunters. And that Fenris had travelled with their First and Oshyn, the hunter master, to the hiding place of Fenris’ former master’s apprentice… That was no more. Nobody had really spoken about it as it became clear he didn’t want to, and that Aisling wasn’t really ok either.

It was clear that something happened, but they all got called for dinner, distracted from any other thought. The conversation shifted again, as Aisling and Radha rose to help with the meal, distributing bowls and laughing with the ones that didn’t roam around, and elves from other clans who decided to stay there for the dinner, visiting old friends. Arlathvens were like this: everyone was welcomed everywhere, food and shelter was granted to anyone who asked, no matter the Clan, it was a big party when rituals and meetings weren’t held, the atmosphere chilled and relaxed as they were all protected by numbers by any external threat. It was beautiful and warm. Except…

… Except Aisling had told herself a thousand times that she should really stop gravitating around Fenris and pestering him as she had done from the moment he arrived, relating to his being the new one in the clan. She taught him to read, he taught her Tevene. They were friends. And it was three weeks since they really talked for the last time. She may have feelings for him she shouldn’t be having, that would have been a nuisance for him, she knew well after what he told her. But, she hoped she still was his friend, and friends… Well.

Work done, she took the bowl to the Keeper and kissed her on the cheek just because, thanking her but saying she wouldn’t have sat with her this evening and excusing herself. She waved at Vyrina and Radha, still on their spot around the fire, and at Fionn who reached his wife and soon-to-be child, slung the handle of a goatskin over her shoulder, and grabbing the last two bowls of stew made her way to the most private, faraway corner in the clearing, close to the aravels, schooling herself and putting up a smile as she swallowed her nerves.

“Hello. Hungry?”

“Thank you.”

She handled him one of the bowls, which he took, careful to keep it stable and not to look at her in the eyes. He didn’t invite her to sit with him, didn’t say anything at all. But, she was used by now to his being silent, and it didn’t intimidate her one bit.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

She asked, but she was already sitting down, dragging a second stool closer to his -not enough to invade his space, she knew he cared for distances more than anyone in the clan and had learnt to respect it. It wasn’t a bother. So, she just sat, crossing one leg under her, sitting on her foot and slipping the goatskin down to the ground, with a soft thud, before starting to eat.

“Why did you ask if you just… Sat?” He asked, with that pitch in his low voice that was never clear if it was joking or angry. She didn’t mind and just shrugged.

“Politeness.”

“Weirdo.”

“Broody.”

It at least brought a smile on her face. He never called her weirdo when he was angry or irritated at her. Not with that tone. They kept on eating, none really saying anything or paying attention to the conversation and laughter and merriment around the campfire. Not much light reached them in that corner, casting them in a soft orange glow that really didn’t allow to distinguish colours or fine details. It was cosy, and private as an Arlathven could be. Which was not much, but it was something.

“Is everything all right?” She probed, not looking at him and trying to keep her voice neutral.

“Yes.”

Ok, so yes or no questions. He wasn’t in an elaborating mood. She could manage.

“Arlathvens are a lot, I know. Nobody would notice if you just shut yourself in your aravel for a day or two, really.”

“Mh.”

“But if you decide to stroll around, ignore the old woman with parrot feathers in her braids offering you absinthe liquor. That thing is despicable and is only good to help wood catch fire faster.”

“I don’t think I’ll meet her.”

He said, scraping the last morsels of meat from his bowl, before depositing the cutleries on the ground, beside the leg of her stool. So it would have been easier for her to take it back. A nice gesture, one of the many he had, under the grumpy, rough and unfriendly exterior he was always on the ready to help, and fit in the clan pretty well. At the same time, it was an invitation to go. But, the last sentence left Aisling with a bad feeling in her guts, and she needed to know more. She lowered her bowl on the crossing of her thigh, turning towards him.

“You’re planning on staying here all the time? Or in the aravel?”

He moved his head minutely, enough for silvery white locks to move and let him cast her a sideway glance.

“No, I’m not.”

“Here or the aravel?”

He didn’t reply, turning to look before him and slouching forward, elbows propped on his thighs. Sitting as if he was ready to jump right up. He never was fully relaxed, after all, Aisling didn’t blame him. Least of all after Hadriana. But… But, she knew him a little, and understood what he meant without him elaborating further. She wished she hadn’t eaten, her stomach tying in a knot. Except, she hated wasting food, she knew how hard it was to hunt, and… And so, she finished her meal in silence, turning his words and body language over and over in her head, extrapolating every tiny bit of information she could in search for a counter-theory that she really didn’t find.

“You know nobody in the clan would mind if you stayed, right?”

No answer, he just contracted his hands more.

“You’re… You’re family. You’d have more chances with us.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped, harshly. The same tone of voice he had that day.

She lowered her gaze, not able to reply. He knew he was right, she did too. They both knew. So, she just raised his spoon and piled her bowl on top of his, carefully to place both spoons inside without makin any noise, slowly and carefully. And returning to look in front of her, crossing her arms on her chest. Tight. She would not cry now because he was leaving. She wouldn’t. She would have been an adult, waited for a good moment to rise up that didn’t feel like she was running away, and either jump right in the camp town and get horribly drunk, or close in the Keeper’s aravel and cry until sleep caught her. She was an adult, she helped performed the rites as her Keeper’s First. She could do it, as hard as she found it to be.

But, he must have sensed something, and she heard him sigh, loudly.

“I am sorry. About what happened with Hadriana. I took out my anger on you, undeservedly so. I was… Not myself.” Every word came out slowly and clear, he made sure she heard.

“You disappeared for a day. We had no idea of where you went, we… I was worried.” She admitted. He found them back after a day, as if nothing happened. Except, he didn’t speak to her and avoided her.

“I needed to be alone.”

“I understand.”

He sighed, starting to explain to her who exactly Hadriana was, what she did to him. The abuse, the cruelty, everything. Her heart clenched more, as every time he let on some details about his past before they crossed paths. It pained him to remember, but he kept on talking without stopping or stalling. She listened to him, not replying, not making comments. Just… Accepting what he had to give. Saying she was sorry wouldn’t have helped.

“This hate… I thought I’d gotten away from it. I thought… The clan gave me some respite. But it dogs me no matter where I go and…” He paused, huffing breath through his nose. “To feel it again, to know who planted it inside me… It’s too much to bear.”

Oh, she would have died to touch him, to reassure him somehow as she knew how. Except, she knew he didn’t really like being touched. As much as it was difficult, she closed her hands on her arms, and just… dragged the stool a little closer to his, minding not to tumble the bowls. Not enough for their shoulders to brush, not enough to touch. But enough to communicate she was there, if he wanted.

A minute passed, before he deflated, back slouching a little further and a long sigh leaving his lips.

“Bah. I don’t want to bother you further.”

“… You still don’t need to leave, Fenris.”

She just said, convinced of what she was saying. It came out as more of a beg than anything else, and she quickly averted her eyes as he turned to look at her. Aisling didn’t want to look at him in the eyes and find… anything, really. Anything would have made her crumble and start crying, and he would have asked her why she was crying because he always did, and she would have had to… Explain things. Hurt him more if he wanted to leave for real. So, instead of slipping down that hill, she cleared her throat and bent to take the goatskin from the floor, deftly taking the cork away.

“So. Well. Thank you for apologising. One for the road? You really can’t participate to an Arlathven and not drink, it’s part of the experience. It would put all of us to shame if we let you go without even a drink.”

She started, talking fastly and quick, running to the edge of a knife and, to maybe make that edge a tiny bit bigger, rose the goatskin up.

“Prosit!” She toasted, in Tevene, before taking a gulp. She hadn’t asked which liquor it was, just… Took it out. Turned out it was something made out of sloes, sweet and tangy and with definitely too much alcohol inside.

She huffed, shaking her head as her throat finished burning up, as the elf beside her quietly chuckled. If he chuckled it meant that things were fine, at least, which was good. She didn’t want him to leave in sadness, and if all that she could do was this, she wanted to give him some nice memories and a last… Evening, or day, to remember fondly. That, she could do.

He prodded her, waiting for her to pass the goatskin on, but she stalled. Something nice to remember. Maybe… Maybe it was the alcohol. Or the butterflies in her stomach having nasty ideas of their own to whisper in her ears.

Maybe, just hypothetically… If he was leaving… Maybe she could… And then maybe -just maybe!-, he wouldn’t…

But, she was a mage. And he believed that magic ruined things.

But, he was there with her, didn’t move away when she got closer. He stayed when she sat with him, in a moment when it was clear he wanted to be left on his own. He called her weirdo with that tone of voice that held affection. He apologised and opened up, which was something he never did. Not in so many details and certainly not with everyone. There were things about his past that she was the only one he let on. So… Maybe…

“Are you gonna pass it on, or was it so strong that it struck dumb even you?”

“Maybe it was… Wouldn’t take a lot to strike me dumb, after all.”

He rose an eyebrow, not convinced. “I disagree. You’re very intelligent.”

She smiled, a little bolder from the compliment. She didn’t elaborate further, even if she didn’t agree fully with him. Because she was about to do something potentially very, very stupid. But, it was now or never, she guessed, so… She took another sip of liquor, praying silently Mythal to give her braveness, as he chuckled again at her.

And then, she turned to him, finally -finally- looking at him straight in the eyes, intently. He didn’t lower his gaze, a small smile softening his face. She handled him the goatskin.

“One for the road, then?”

“One for the road.” He nodded, placing his hand on the container.

She didn’t let go right away, tho. Swallowing, her heart beating loud and fast in her ears, fluttering in her throat so hard that for one minute all that existed in the world was her and Fenris, she moved her fingers to brush against his, feather-light and ready to get away, still looking at him in the eyes. As soon as she realised, as her fingerpads found the back of his hand and brushed against his tattoos, she felt him contract and move, the softness in his eyes disappearing at once.

Something shone blue, she gasped and felt his hands clutching on both her wrists, goatskin falling down on the grass, her arms being dragged at the side of her bust.

It was a moment, nobody saw them as the party was keeping up and nobody paid attention to them half hidden in a dark corner in that one, decisive moment. Aisling instinctively called on mana, but… Stopped. Let go. It was Fenris, and she trusted him. She did, even glaring and towering over her.

And indeed, he folded on himself, harsh expression melting into one of regret and pain. Again, and she hated the comparison, as right after he told her that magic ruins everything it touches. Except, they were far, far closer now than they have ever been, balancing on stools too close together.

He lowered his gaze and let go of her, suddenly, moving back. But, she wouldn’t have it. He regretted it, she saw. She saw him, for a moment, looking down at her lips. She wouldn’t let go without a fight.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was Mythal hearing her prayer and suddenly descending over her in some sort of divine inspiration that took all rational thoughts away, she called his name as assertively as she could be -a tone fit for a Keeper-, and when he turned again to her, she bent forward and kissed him.

It wasn’t a good kiss. It was sudden and unplanned and it had too many teeth clanking together, and she tasted blood on her lips, when she pursed them together to make it at least a little softer.

She turned back after a while, all sounds muffled and feeling like her face was burning in embarrassment, as Fenris looked at her dumbstruck, mouth still open.

“I-” She started, fumbling, desperately tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as the weight of what she did hit her. “I-I’m so, so sorry, I shouldn’t-”

He didn’t let her finish, and this time it was him kissing her. With less teeth, and better. Aisling soared, answering to him after a moment of pure surprise. Another break, they looked at each other in the eyes, finding the same dumbstruck expression reflecting in the other’s. Aisling giggled, still embarrassed, and he chuckled, smiling. Smiling for real. She tentatively rose her hands towards his face, he nodded without saying anything. She cupped his face, he tentatively splayed his hands on the small of her back. They kissed again. And again. And then some more.

And then they remembered what she suggested, not too long ago and yet a lifetime before, that if someone would close themselves in an aravel, none would be the wiser or really come looking. It seemed like a good idea to both of them, communicating just by looks and half smiles. He nodded, she took his hand, he took the goatskin – “It tastes good on your lips”- and dragged him inside. He let her drag him, let her undo his belt and straddle his lap.

The gin tasted good on his lips as well, and his skin felt even better against hers, warm and smooth. She let herself believe, and for a moment she was very, very sure of it as he nibbled her collarbone just so that her toes curled and traced her whole spine with rough, calloused fingers so delicately, that it wasn’t one for the road.

---

The next morning, Keeper Deshanna’s First came to the ritual for Sylaise with a lackluster expression, not looking at anyone in the eyes and not at all the cheerful, brilliant mage she has been but 36 hours prior when they celebrated Mythal.

She was dressed as her status required, in her best halla leather embroidered in gold trim, golden hair neatly braided against her head in an austere way. And yet, her eyes felt void, her smile didn’t reach them. She practiced all the rituals alongside her Keeper, didn’t miss a word. Didn’t say a word outside prayers, when it was done.

When the Keeper got back to the Lavellan area, her youngest strongly deflecting and refusing to say what was wrong, and saying it was all right, she was fine… She didn’t find Fenris anywhere. No one, when she asked, had seen him since yesterday evening, but one of the sentinels, who saw an elf with white hair and a “stupidly big sword” leaving quickly at dawn.

His aravel was empty. Aisling was to the working table, pestling flowers and herbs together in a frenzy. She didn’t say a word when Deshanna asked her what she was doing, to stop, at least change your clothes, da’len, it’s gonna stain. She didn’t speak. Didn’t speak at lunch, didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much Vyrina tried, caressing her hair and washing her green-stained hands. She, simply, wasn’t there, and Deshanna’s heart clenched, putting two and two together and remembering those first days, after another Arlathven many years ago, when she was six and finally understood that her mamae wouldn’t have come with her.

Deshanna stopped Radha, as perceptive as her, and even more sometimes, to track Fenris down and beat the hell out of him, saying it was no use. She consoled her middle daughter, caressing her high cheekbones and placating her rage. And sent her after Aisling instead, instructing her to take care of her sister. She would have started bleeding soon, if what she did that morning was what Deshanna thought. And Deshanna, as unassuming and humble as she behaved, as much as she didn’t care to have a bigger clan as long as they were united as they were, was renowned to be extremely talented with herbs and healing. And, she saw how the bottle of rue wasn’t as full as it was yesterday, and how the pennyroyal jar was stained green.

She sighed, kissing her daughter on the forehead before she went and sit close to Aisling, hugging her tight in the way they had of just… Avoid words and saying everything without them.

She needed to take care of things. Find Pavyn and tell him to both substitute her for the next day or two, and go easy on her, even if he was still angry.

It would have been a harsh winter.

#dragon age #dragon age fic #fenris #inquisitor lavellan #fenris x lavellan #writing petrel #angst #daggerbean tagged them as “cuties coexisting” so here you go #cuties coexisting #THIS IS MUCH OF AN AU IT'S NOT MY CANON #I just caressed the option for a while #also hope I did Fenris justice :") I'm a nervous wreck when it comes to him hope he's decent #I followed his in game romance for a while #ok I'll stop

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hoshigray · 2 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~

and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~

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“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”

“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”

“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”

You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again.

It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.

Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.

But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.

However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.

But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on.

And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it.

“Y/n!”

Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by.

“Y/n...”

But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop.

“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“

“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”

You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.

You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.

“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”

And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.”

The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.

“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.

“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“

“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“

“Did he tell you what he said to me?”

“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.”

“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”

Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“

“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.

“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”

You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"

“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“

“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“

“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”

“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?

“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”

Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”

“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”

“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”

And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation.

“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”

He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down.

“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”

“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”

“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff.

“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”

“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”

It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against.

But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.

“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.”

Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself.

From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock.

Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about.

And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.

BZZZR!! BZZZR!!

However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button.

It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—

“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.

“Hi…..Where are you?”

“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You sitting on the toilet?”

You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”

“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“

“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”

Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”

“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”

“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.”

“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”

“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“

“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin.

“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”

“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”

“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?”

You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.

As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.

You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?”

“Huh?”

“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”

The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”

“Gojo—“

“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.

You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?”

“….”

“…Gojo?”

“….”

“Gojo? Are you still—“

“I like you.”

Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.

There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.

He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.

“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.

“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”

“How long ago is that?”

“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you like me?

You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.”

You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say.

“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”

You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”

“Huh!? Why??”

“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”

“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”

“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”

“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”

“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”

He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”

“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”

KA-BANG-BANG!!

You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”

“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“

“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?”

Huh!? “A date??”

“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”

“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“

“We could skip—“

“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.”

“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”

For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”

It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out?

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.”

“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”

“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”

Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”

“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”

“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”

“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”

“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“

CLICK!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about.

As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.

What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.

You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.

“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around.

And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.

“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth.

“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.”

“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”

“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”

Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip.

And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”

“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.

After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie.

However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute.

Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.

“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t.

Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?”

You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”

“You just saying that to agree with me?”

“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.

He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:

“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”

He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—

“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”

Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”

You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”

“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”

Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”

The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”

When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.

Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them.

This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.

So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed.

His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.

He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”

He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp.

But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties.

You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers.

When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more.

“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.

“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”

You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.

“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.

Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”

That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.

He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.

“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.

“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.

His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?”

You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?”

He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.

“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”

You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”

Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.

Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.

“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.

“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“

“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”

“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”

“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”

Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie!

And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no!

“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”

Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!”

Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt.

He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl.

The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.

He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck.

“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”

“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”

“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?”

He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”

“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.

“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”

“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”

“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”

“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“

“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”

It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.

After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!

Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours.

Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.

Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.

And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation.

You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“

“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his.

“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“

“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.”

You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again.

“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”

On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”

“Uhh, are we interrupting something?”

With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you.

You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“

“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”

“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.

Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”

“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”

Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”

Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?

“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”

Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”

“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”

The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.

Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”

“Gojoooo….”

Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko.

“SATORUUUU!!!”

You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.

“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”

“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”

And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two.

It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.

And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.

It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.

“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”

“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”

And you two wouldn’t want it any other way.

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