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babypinkhearts · 6 days

Text

know it’s for the better. - g. suguru

pairing: geto suguru + fem!reader, implied gojo satoru + fem!reader

summary: but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

warnings: canon au, angst (please forgive me ily all), mentions of violence, vulgar language, crude humor, time-jumps, cameos from shoko, megumi, yuji, nobara :3 comfort.

word count: 16.8k

a/n: this fic has been my baby for a month, i’ve poured so much love into it. treat her well <333 loosely inspired by the songs “first love/late spring” by mitski and “waiting room” by phoebe bridgers. there are so many references to so many things in this :) some quotes that i will think about forever. hope you enjoy.

october, 2006.

“nine out of ten times.”

it’s the first sentence you say out loud after minutes of silence, and you’re given a puzzled look. it kinda makes you want to laugh, the confusion etched across his face so foreign that it’s rather intriguing. he’s golden, even under all the darkness. the world makes space for fallen angels.

“nine of ten times… what?”

you resist the urge to thumb that furrow in his brows, the creases looking wrong upon his soft features. you only smile, snuggling closer to him. either the room is magically colder, or suguru forgot to close the window. you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“that i would choose you.”

you’re slurring your words almost, but more from the plain laziness in your movements rather than from genuine exhaustion. suguru hums, fingers tapping along your arm. it may be around four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep.

the both of you hadn’t been able to for a while.

not since riko, not since toji, and definitely not since the new scar trailing across your stomach. shoko hadn’t been able to make the repair seamless.

you didn’t really mind. a lot of things seemed pointless nowadays.

“and the other time?”

your eyes linger on the strand of hair that always falls imperfectly on his face. a little crack in his flawlessness, though you’re not sure how grand that observation actually is.

you sit up a bit, propping your head with your arm as you look down at his pretty brown eyes. narrow, as they currently are, but still evidently alluring.

“well, i think it’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” you reason, voice soft. sometimes the dependency you had with suguru worried you. waves can crash, but the water itself remains. you think you’ll always be bound to him. his, forever. and yet you say, “i’d choose myself. just for a bit of sanity.”

it’s meant to be lighthearted, but the silence that falls afterwards kills any tone of playfulness that statement might have held.

you wish you had been a little more greedy.

•••

september, 2007.

emotions were complicated things.

it’s complicated to process the bullet you watch fly through a child’s head. it’s complicated to process your near-death experience. it’s complicated to process process the news of your classmate’s death. it’s complicated to process how it’s expected for you to go back to normal. it’s complicated to process everything.

so you curl up further, and hope that the news you’re hearing now is only a nightmare. because again, it’s too complicated to process.

“he killed them.”

and with the way satoru says it, repeats it, you think he wants you to sit up and hug him. be vulnerable, because god knows it’s been so long since you have.

but you lay there, back in the bed that you used to sometimes share with the criminal. the stillness makes satoru’s stomach drop, and he can’t will himself to say it again just for the chance of getting a reaction from you. but how much pain can a heart take? because it felt like yours might give out at any moment.

you didn’t sign up for this.

naively, no, you didn’t sign up for this.

“how many?”

you’re not sure why you ask. any number would have you spiraling, but with the silent refusal satoru gives by not replying immediately, you’re sure the answer would kill you alone.

he knows. he knows the exact number, he’d seen the report.

but he stares at your desolate form, eyes scanning the mess in your room. or, lack of. he hardly saw you get get out of bed these days if it weren’t for missions. the only sign of movement from you were the plushies that used to adorn your bed, now sprawled on the floor. for a second, he wonders if they’re gifted from who he thinks they’re from. but that thought feels stupid the moment he thinks of it, because - yes. of course they were. that man had loved you like his lungs naturally loved air. he loved freely, graceful in the way he cared. about satoru, about you. anyone, really.

so saturo makes a decision, hoping that it alleviates a little bit of the ache that he now concludes he will attempt to shield you from. because he cares about you too much to see you succumb to your own internal wounds. he wants you to be strong, like him. like suguru was. he can’t lose you too.

“i don’t know.” satoru lies, and he hopes that sentence can at least ease your heartbreak. but he feels it just as much. sorrowful, the kind of pain he’s been too familar with for a while now. he frowns when you don’t move.

obstruct from his view, your hands grip your sheets as tight as humanly possible, and you’re sure that you break skin through the fabric. you want to cry, but you can’t. not in front of satoru. not while he’s right there.

because this doesn’t affect you. you didn’t care.

so what? suguru had left you to the wolves. to fend for yourself. he became a monster. it didn’t bother you.

and you try to convince yourself to think the same when satoru sits beside you. you’re still thinking it as his shaking hand places itself on your side.

but you give up when he lays beside you, feeling his grief. and that pain only cements itself further as you begin to quietly sob months worth of misery.

you don’t feel much better after.

•••

march, 2008.

nine out of ten times, you’d like to be given the option to wipe your memory.

the other time would be the ability to travel to the past. it’s hard to decide which could be better, or arguably worse. maybe you could save haibara - tag along on that stupid mission and fight that stupid curse. switch places with him, even. the world seemed a lot duller without him in it. nanami spoke even less than he did before. you couldn’t keep up a conversation with him.

was it irrational to think that you might have been able to kill toji too? he just caught you on an off-day. you’re the reason he killed riko. it’s your fault that a child is dead.

there’s so much to be sad about, you’ve started to confuse those ugly feelings with plain normality. it’s natural to feel like this. you can’t really remember better days. they’ve blurred, causing twisted retroactive interference.

your rock had fled. any form of stability you had crumbled with the weight of your sorrow, and you’re forced to miserably pick yourself back up because you’ve never really been used to being alone. satoru wasn’t really around anymore, and shoko never left her studies. you certainly weren’t abandoned, but, unfortunately, you understood that grief couldn’t just halt time forever.

you’ve mourned so much, it feels silly to still have the same ache.

but how do you even move on? what’s the process like? because you’re almost certain you wouldn’t be able to survive it.

you’ve began to rid any remnants of him in your room; any proof of his existence. clothes, specifically, because they hold on to his scent, and you think if you stop for a moment to actually look at them you might break down again. you see memories in them. times where he’s worn the black t-shirts, or his white button-up. insignificant at first glance, but it’s your life you’re holding on to.

you stuff them into bags as quickly as you can.

if he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.

at least, not anymore than he already had.

you think it’s cruel that you’re stuck with a person’s presence even if they’re not physically there anymore. you’ll always associate this room with him. the world, at that.

and maybe it’s childish that your first response (after the sulking) is to trash his belongings, but you can’t think of anything more rational to do. the universe will move on without him. you can’t be left behind too.

when you’re finished, you’re not sure if the sight of five large trash bags and an emptier room makes you want to sob or hit something. it’s like life has lost it’s color - a new vision, duller than what was deemed humane. torturous.

yet you can’t bring yourself to pick them up and take them out of the room. you’re idle, staring at them like they’re just meant to disappear. you hadn’t realized how much your room consisted of just him.

trash, is what you’re unintentionally calling everything in them. but you don’t think that, never in a million years.

if it were up to you, you’d keep everything exactly where it was, and obliviously continue a cheery facade. but the thing about awareness is that after it’s discovered, you can’t really leave it. it’s branded into your mind, poking at your brain with a stick because it will annoyingly never have the intention to leave you alone.

it’ll sit with you in your darkest hours, and you’re unable to predict when light will shine through.

“dump them.”

you jump, defenses high on alert as you instinctively fall back. almost immediately after, you drop your hands, sighing.

shoko is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. you’re about to ask her how long she’s been standing there for, but her lingering gaze on your conflicting pile of issues answers your question before you have the chance to.

“i’ll do it for you.” she offers, finally looking up to meet your eyes. they’re a little sunken in, and she looks restless. it’s the first time you’ve seen her in nearly two weeks. she’s ditched the short hair since a few months back, the length sitting comfortably at her chest now.

you dumbly stare, non-respondent on purpose. you don’t want her to do that.

she seems to recognize the discomfort on your face at her suggestion, and you watch as her brows bitterly furrow, a small glare now directed at the bags. but you don’t get much emotion other than that.

“you can’t cling on to this shit. it’s unhealthy.” she softly explains, shaking her head. you wonder if that’s her medical opinion or genuine concern speaking, but you don’t ask her to elaborate. instead, you turn around, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

you kind of want her to leave.

“what’s healthy, then?” you retort, shrugging. it sounded a bit hypocritical coming from her. shoko had barricaded herself for the past six months, not even offering an ounce of genuine sympathy. in reality, you know it’s because she’s naturally avoidant. she didn’t crave support like you did. she didn’t need it like you had. because shoko has always been independent, never strung up on people. and you envy that more than anything.

“i don’t know.” she answers honestly, pursing her lips. but with one look around your room, and she’s certain it wasn’t this.

hesitantly, lets herself inside, eyes scanning the bareness. if it were any other day, she’d see suguru at your desk, or on your bed. he’d wave, and you would greet her with open arms. everyone knew the two of you were nearly inseparable (if it weren’t for satoru). the room always had a pleasant atmosphere when the two of you were in it. it feels cold and grim now, though. shoko has to fight a shiver.

you observe her, waiting for a joke or two. you’re nearly hoping, because any form of comedic relief had begun to be your craving. you needed an escape from all of this.

but instead, she turns back to you and wordlessly sits beside your tense form. it’s quiet for a bit.

there’s a charm that shines on the top of your desk, catching her eye. it dangles among other souvenirs, and shoko has to avert her eyes when she realizes that they’re all gifts from a certain deceased underclassman.

everything about this room feels like a graveyard.

“satoru comes back today.” shoko suddenly says, letting the first thing she can think of be verbalized. her eyes stay on the wooden floor this time. “he’s been in kyoto for a couple of days.”

you hum, nodding. you didn’t know.

if shoko kept her distance, then it was like satoru had completely faded. you couldn’t even remember the last time he had texted you.

then again, you weren’t sure if you’d even respond.

“i was thinking we could eat dinner together… when he gets back.”

your head perks up. barely.

that sounded familiar. mostly because it had been a routine up until recently. never verbally established, but it was natural for you and shoko to be accompanied by two towering sorcerers as you ate whatever satoru had decided on for the day. he was a picky eater. there’s a bitter taste on your tongue as you realize you’d be missing a member now.

“we can.” you nod, awkwardly kicking your feet back and forth. silence again.

you can feel shoko’s annoyance. how she’s trying to get you to talk, but you’re stupidly stubborn and refuse to. however, she knows you a little too well, and plays the waiting game. because she knows you’re weak when it comes to your heart, and weaker when it comes to the people you love. her included.

it’s not a relief when you finally break. if anything, it’s painful to hear, to watch. and though it’s only one question, it’s so complicated that it feels like you’ve asked her how the universe itself was created. simultaneously, it’s equally as simplistic.

it doesn’t even sound sad. it’s hollow, void of any distinct emotion. you’re staring at the wall.

“shoko…” you don’t pay attention to how she stills and watches you intently. you’re oblivious to the frown on her face, how she leans in just a little closer. and the widening of her eyes as you finish speaking. “how are you… okay?”

you feel particularly pathetic. shoko was so strong. satoru was the strongest. and yet here you were, more fragile than ever. on an alter, you’re a mere viewer from below. simply watching perched gods, basking in all their glory. the difference always evident, never comparable.

and yet shoko stares for a little, dumbfounded.

no, absolutely no one was ‘okay.’ the world was crumbling in front of everyone’s eyes. but you’ve always been a reminiscent person, she supposes. you search for familiarity. it’s harder for you to let go.

“did i tell you that?” she asks, more rhetorically than anything. there’s a teasing tone that her voice holds, but it does little to rid the tension of your question. you slowly shake your head.

“then how do you know that’s true?”

you shrug, fiddling with your fingers. “i don’t know.”

you want to tell her that your thoughts are purely based on toxic comparisons to yourself, but the air feels a little thick already, so you don’t.

“c’mere.”

there is no protest made when she wraps her arms around you, and forces you to fall into your bed with her. the pillows under your heads dip, and you’re enveloped in the softness of your blankets. shoko’s warm, and if you closed your eyes you might mistaken her hold to be like a mother’s affection. evident adoration, just by the touch. you’re derived and soak it up as much as you can, leaning into her.

it reminds you of late nights where you’d have sleepovers and gossip until the sun came up. too tired to train the next day, yaga ordering laps regardless of your visible fatigue. and you’d run with gleeful smiles, energy lifting as you were side-by-side again. an unexplainable friendship one could never truly describe with words, just pure thoughts. it’s sickeningly nostalgic, because you think about the fact that it really had not been that long ago. how quickly things change.

shoko nuzzles her face into your hair affectionately and sighs. she squeezes you tightly. declarative - ‘i’m right here.’ never enough to make up for the lost time and avoidance, but enough for now. because shoko didn’t act like this normally, and for you to see her in such a state meant more than just any regular apology.

“i think you know how to love better than any of us.” she admits, and that sentence alone has you curling a little more into her, your chest suddenly feeling tight. she leans in, and her lips form into a sorrowful smile as she observes you. full of pure understanding. again, a connection that could not be made with words. it feels a little spiritual. she brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. “that’s why you find it all so painful.”

hesitantly, you offer a sad smile, her words all bittersweet. it makes you laugh a little distastefully, the reality of them hitting you at once. “well, that’s not fair.”

“it’s not.” shoko agrees, nodding. “but it’s a lovely thing.”

you make a face. recently, it’s only brought you suffering. the good bits don’t seem as worth it - as ‘lovely’ as she describes.

you pause, contemplating for a little. and your voice is affirmative, like you’ve never been more sure in your life. you kinda sound like a naive child.

“i don’t want it. take my feelings. i don’t like them.”

it’s true. it’s the biggest truth you’ve ever told with the biggest sincerity. and you know it’s not possible, that you’re stuck like this forever. a soft, easygoing heart that beats for everyone around it. your words make shoko snort - a real genuine laugh. you giggle through watery eyes.

“the world sucks.”

this time, it is a pitying smile that shoko gives you. lop-sided, and hesitant. she feels bad.

her arms leave you, and she opts to instead lay facing you, faces mere inches from one another. you’re both laying on your cheeks, against folded hands. shoko taps your nose.

“you know what i think?”

you hum, sniffing a little as you try to focus on the small amount freckles across her face instead of the overwhelming urge to let some tears fall. it works, for the most part. you count twenty.

“i think the world gives strong feelings to strong people.”

you smile at that.

shoko was something else.

“i’m pretty fucking strong then, aren’t i?” you mumble, tired eyes blinking as you sigh. shoko’s eyes crinkle as she returns the fondness, a hand resting on your cheek.

“definitely.”

and you can only hope she’s right.

there’s nothing that interrupts those sweet moments of tranquillity. where you can act like everything is just a little better, because in all honesty, it was. shoko’s good at making you feel like that.

if you really thought hard enough, this could be just another regular day. you want it to be.

you feel shoko’s finger poke your chest, and she gives you a pointed look. it’s like she could read your mind - subconsciously, as if she had the ability of a third eye.

“it gets easier. every day it gets a little easier. but you gotta do it every day — that’s the hard part.”

she leaves it at that.

you lay together, appreciating each other’s mere presence. and it feels nice. support, like you craved, but words even more. you aren’t able to formulate how much you adore her, but actions speak louder than words, so you shuffle just a tiny bit closer.

you’re not sure how much time passes by.

when shoko stands up, she rids you of her warmth, leaving the cocoon of wonder and comfort she’d so gracefully created for you. yet you feel fine, that isolating shiver now replaced with content. you think you feel a little lighter too.

“be outside by seven. if it’s up to me, we’ll all get sushi. no promises though.”

she’s back to being more standoffish, but still your same shoko. you nod appreciatively, the thankfulness worth the weight of a million tons. your eyes follow her as she walks across the room.

the door shuts, and you’re left alone again.

you can feel your heart beat a little faster, the realization of your commitment to the later plans finally dawning upon you. it would be the first real reunion since then. maybe a chance to talk things out. be levelheaded, get some communal closure.

or, maybe you’d be able to ignore the past and focus on the present. just act like friends eating lunch. because that’s all it was, wasn’t it?

begrudgingly, you force yourself to stand, too aware of the fact that your habits of wasting time in bed have far exceeded a reasonable amount over the past few months. it was time to get better, be better.

your hands grab the first bag.

it’s heavy, as you imagine all the other ones are. but you suppose if you don’t think about what’s in them, it’ll make the process a lot smoother.

you’re nearing the door when you stop.

it’s a small paper, it’s yellow exterior almost blending in with the sunlight escaping through the windows. you inch closer.

and it’s pathetic that the sight of his handwriting on a sticky-note makes you lose your breath. shameful, because how are inanimate objects this damaging?

it’s hung above your desk. by haibara’s gifts, and by notebooks you never really used in this academically-lackluster school.

you stare at it for a while, hand resting over your forehead as you take in every minuscule detail. you let go of the bag.

it’s the last note suguru had ever left you, made a few weeks before his disappearance. before everything went downhill. little poetic phrases that would embed themselves in your mind until death. you’re afraid to look.

it’s neatly written, displayed in purple ink. doodles of clouds and flowers surround the words. he had a habit of leaving them around. you suppose you never caught this one.

there’s a little heart next to his signature, encapsulating just a memory of lost devotion.

‘how strange to dream of you, even when i am awake.’

your hand crumbles the note in a second.

the paper is evidently weak, and when you open your hand back up, the words are still clearly there, haunting you. and you know you don’t have the heart to throw it away. or, realistically - throw anything away.

you fold the note gently, and leave it on your desk. your body yearns to leave, to escape the suffocation of what suddenly felt like walls that were caving in. you slam the door on your way out, bags and all left behind.

you’d definitely prefer to wipe your memory.

•••

april, 2005.

“you’re so annoying.”

satoru grins, standing proudly as you repeatedly attempt to hit him on the head, your touch stopped by his infinity. he’d only recently learned how to control it decently - claiming that he needed to because you had a bad habit of using him as your punching bag.

“you know what though? this is a good thing.” you muse, arms crossing as you finally give up. satoru’s head tilts, and you raise a brow. “no one wants to touch you anyways.”

there’s a dramatic pout that immediately finds itself on his face, and he whines from instinct, letting his guard down for a moment to shove you. you slap his arm before he has a chance to react.

“she’s right.” suguru nods affirmatively, earning a gasp from the white-haired male, and suddenly, suguru is being shoved too. you giggle, briefly making eye contact with him. it’s a little too quick for your preference, but the stolen glance has you holding your breath for a moment.

it’s exhilarating.

suguru is beautiful in a way that is hard to describe. but it’s not from a loss of words; you can speak endlessly about him. he’s everything a person could dream of and more. but it’s little gestures that truly draw you to him. how it seems like he always lingers, attentive and patient no matter what boulders you seem to throw at him. he’ll carry that weight on his shoulders easily, and with the most effortless smile. it’s a gentleness that you weren’t even sure was possible before you met him. he defies all expectations, all normalities.

“oh, i forgot to ask-“ satoru turns to you, raising his brows. sometimes his glasses bothered you. his eyes were freakish, yes, but you also had a conflicting urge to always look at them. “how’d your mission go yesterday?”

you cringe, involuntarily stiffening as you replay the events in your head.

“stupid semi-first grade. i let my guard down for a second and it almost clawed me.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. you fail to notice suguru’s eyes widen. “but we exorcised it right after. i swear i saw nanami shit himself.”

there’s a stark difference in reactions from both boys. while satoru snickers, suguru stays quiet. white and black.

“glad you’re still with us.” satoru beams, ruffling your hair before you have a chance to swat his hand away. “right, suguru?”

all attention flocks towards him, and you and satoru patiently await his response. he’s looking off to the side.

he feels a little childish.

there’s an uncomfortable pit in suguru’s stomach that he can’t shake off, and he swallows thickly, nodding with a dismissive cough. “yeah, glad it went well.”

obliviously, you flash him a thankful smile.

it makes him feel the tiniest bit better.

he wished yaga would pair you two together, or even put you with satoru. an actual backup - not someone below your skill level. haibara and nanami weren’t comparable; they were still new to jujustu. younger, less experienced. he holds a little resentment towards your abilities, and while he knows you’re never sent on missions that are tougher than you can handle, he always has an inkling of worry that lingers uncomfortably. he hates not being around you - not knowing if you’re okay. and he knows you’re a reckless fighter. you brush off the mention of critical injuries and move on, completely unbothered. the burden of stress came so easily when he was around you and satoru.

“you have another one tomorrow, right?”

you hum, nodding as you fiddle with the end of your uniform, sighing softly. “it’s across town i think. not sure who’s coming with me yet - maybe it’ll be shoko if i beg hard enough.”

suguru has to fight a wince. also not an ideal companion. shoko didn’t specialize in combat.

she’d only be actual help if you were wounded, and -

“why not me or satoru?”

he speaks before he thinks, and iternally, he punches himself in the face. he can see satoru stop moving in his peripheral vision. he thinks he sees a smirk. coy, but no words come out.

scoffing, you deadpan. “where’s the practice in that? you guys will kill it before i even get a chance to see it.”

and that’s true, because it’s happened dozens of times before. show-offs.

“we can get kikufuku after!” satoru exclaims, completely disregarding you as you begin to protest rather loudly. “i’ve been craving it. i haven’t had it since last week!”

“wait longer.” you sneer, glaring at him. “i rather go alone.”

now that, suguru would verbally be clearly against, without any hint of shame.

“boo.” satoru deflates, rolling his eyes at you. “that won’t even happen.”

it wouldn’t. you hadn’t earned that trust yet - the absolute certainty that you’d survive if you did a mission alone.

suguru’s glad.

“not yet.” you chirp, and the hopeful smile on your face doesn’t help anything. “but soon enough.”

there’s that unwavering aura you always hold that makes suguru feel a little sick. it’s determination, stubbornness, that follows you and keeps you whole. when you talk like that, words void of any doubt, he knows you mean it. and you’ll accomplish it, because your will for achievement is stronger than your rationality.

but he has you now, right in front of him, so he’ll ease himself of the worry. for now.

“in a million years.” satoru remarks, sticking his tongue out at you, not even bothering to look your way as you hold up a rather unpleasant finger in his direction. playful banter was regular between you two; you fed off of each other’s energy. suguru seemed to be the mediator.

an observer, with eyes particularly always lingering on one certain person.

•••

spring has flowers blossoming again, and you feel inclined to stay out for as long as possible. the confinements of your dorm feels like an obstacle, and it’d be a waste to miss out on the beauty that winter’s absence welcomed.

it’s perfect weather.

the cursed weapon in your hand had begun to feel rather light, your arm adapting to the overpowering weight. you disliked close-range combat, but you were being sent on tougher missions now, so there was no room for complaints. your abilities needed to strengthen.

and it’s frustrating, really. to have to constantly forgo complete confidence and figure out where you’re weakest; you could easily make a list with areas of needed improvement. a lot of your classmates seemed to lack that issue. you suppose what’s worse is that you’re completely aware it wasn’t a competition - but you had convinced yourself that at the least, you needed to stay on their level.

even if that meant working ten times harder, even if that meant exerting yourself past a reasonable amount.

but this routine has gotten you this far, and, sincerely, it hadn’t been too much of a problem to keep up with.

in fact, you could probably do a little more.

“you shouldn’t train so much, you’ll strain yourself.”

your stance falters, though you easily recover within the same second. maybe a little too late, but you tried not to be nit-picky. he was naturally quiet.

“i gotta keep up with everyone somehow.” you quickly grin, trying to calm the visible pants of your labored breathing. it’s futile, and you momentarily turn away, as if embarrassed to look anything but perfectly composed. to look less than him - or anyone, really.

your back is towards him.

suguru can read you perfectly. it’s with ease that’s almost completely overbearing, and some part of him believes that he’s only been put on earth to watch out for you. like it knows that you aren’t the kindest when it comes to yourself.

it’s so natural that he supposes it might be his true purpose.

you only hear him hum from behind you, and suddenly there’s a weight pushing down on your raised weapon, ushering it towards the floor. gentle fingers graze against yours, and you let him grab it from you, albeit with some hesitation. he places it on the floor.

“let’s take a break, yeah?”

he doesn’t even need to coerce you, you’d follow him blindly if he asked. you always do.

and he’s leading you, knowing you’re behind him without having the urge to look back and check. exhaustion lingers, but you’re too entranced by him to focus on the sore ache of your limbs. he’s graceful as he walks.

“we trained this morning.”

you freeze momentarily, looking off to the side with a shrug. it’s not that he sounds hostile - it’s just a bit more monotone than normal. “practice makes perfect.”

suguru makes a noise of acknowledgment, but it sounds a bit absentminded and dull, lacking any understanding. like a huff of annoyance.

“right.”

he shouldn’t be this bitter, this cold, when speaking to you. it’s rough against his tongue, and his entire body, mind and all, is actively telling him to stop. emotions are ugly things, though. it makes people less rational; less aware - say things they may regret.

suguru slows his steps, up until you’re beside him, where you should be. and by a glance at you, he knows he’s gotten too uncharacteristically rigid. you’re looking at him, confusion clouding your head. concern, actually. he sees it now.

“did i do something wrong?”

the meekness in your voice, haunted with worry, clears his senses in a millisecond. his eyes widen. panicked, he feverishly shakes his head.

“no — no. of course not.”

he sees you relax a bit, but you’re still looking questionably at him. your head tilts. “then?”

suguru sighs, swallowing thickly as he stops walking. it’s an enchanting sight, grassy fields just a little off main campus. you see a few flowers.

you follow after him as he sits, greenery cushioning your bodies as you settle. suguru picks at the weeds, his eyes on the floor. he speaks quiet, voice among the gentle breeze as his hair flows in waves. you have the urge to remove his hair-tie and see it fully.

“i just worry about you.”

you don’t even attempt to hide the slight flustered smile that finds itself on your face, body feeling overwhelmingly warm. he’s avoiding eye contact for once. l

it’d be a lie if you claimed you didn’t notice the tension - the smiles, the laughs, the soft-spoken volume of his pure voice. so silky smooth it’d rid you of all your worries in a second. but there’s something so alluring about never saying it out loud. like it’s your little secret the two of you can keep, because adoration itself is something so beautiful it needed to be dragged out for as long as possible. you’ve grown to be a little impatient, though.

you nudge him teasingly.

“don’t. i’m right here.”

and it’s true; suguru sees it as a privilege. to be around your presence, to just talk to you — he worships the ground you walk on, and he’s not sure how to tell you that might be the reason why he worries so much.

instead, he chuckles, head bowing momentarily.

“i wish it were that easy.”

you bring your knees to your chest, giggling lightly.

he’s cute.

undeniably.

“it is.” you urge, dragging out the last syllable as you sway towards him. he meets your eyes. “just trust me like i trust you.”

suguru thinks that you’re sometimes oblivious to the weight of your words. they can be so intimate, and you’ll deliver them like any other sentence. as if you hadn’t just made his stomach churn, and his heart beat a little faster. he trusts you more than a healthy amount. he’d trust you with his life, his future — he’d leave everything in the palms of your hands.

“i do.” he replies, reassuringly. it’s earnest, and you smile. suguru bites the inside of his cheek, and closes his eyes. “it’s everything else that scares me.”

and there’s really nothing you can really do to help that fear, because you know it’s completely reasonable and realistic. tomorrow is never promised, especially with the hectic lives you live. you want to tell him that you have similar thoughts when he and satoru are out for days at a time, no return window strictly placed. that it has you pacing back and forth until their arrival, and even then you downplay your relief. but that’s a little embarrassing to say when he’s listening so intently, so you keep quiet.

you turn to him, shrugging with a smile you pray looks more optimistic than sorrowful.

“we can only ever hope for the best.”

a little hollow, less declarative than preferred, but it works the same. suguru nods in silent agreement.

suguru used to think that exceptional beasts like you and him could not fall in love — that it was the secret of ordinary people. for beings, who can alter the world, were special in indescribable ways. but he’s grown to be more open-minded, more accepting.

because what else could he do? you were so irresistible that it ceased the existence of his birth-given psychology. his mind, altered just for you.

“you know… you don’t have to prove yourself of anything.”

this time, it’s suguru who nudges you. he leans in, and you feel his hair brush against your arm. it tickles, but you don’t flinch. your body naturally welcomes the proximity, tingles and goosebumps etching across your skin. you squint, waiting for him to elaborate. and he does, with one validating sentence that kinda erases the possibility of self-doubt. just for a bit.

“i think you’re strong.”

he’d move stars for you, talk to the moon if it meant you got to keep the shimmer in your pretty eyes. and he’d ask the sun to stay out longer so he could continue seeing your rosy cheeks.

he’d gladly live for infinity if he could be the reason you get flustered forever.

you’re very pretty like this.

his eyes are watchful, observant as you scoff bashfully, avoiding him. and you quietly respond, with that same soothing voice. he thinks it could be a lullaby.

“i think you’re strong too.”

suguru smiles, nodding and all-knowing. he pokes you playfully.

“i know.”

you’d complain, but his tone lacks any arrogance. just a statement, enough said. because he knows how you think, how you observe.

and while you don’t say it out loud, your eyes are telling him ‘thank you.’

how beautiful the act of reading an expression is. of knowing a person so easily it’s like clockwork, unraveling intricate details to form a conscious understanding.

he watches your eyes narrow, and awaits a question he knows is on the tip of your tongue. your face looks a certain way during contemplation.

“you like doing this stuff?” you ask, tilting your head. “being a sorcerer, i mean.”

as if the two of you had other options. you didn’t.

but there’s something comforting about answering known questions. speaking the obvious into existence, letting the information linger in the air.

“i like it.” suguru replies, smiling. “if you get rid of the bad stuff.”

his voice gets quieter at the end, but you save him the questioning glance and smile back.

you hum, nodding. “like what?”

and you can name a million bad things. every day is a reminder of them. the two of you have that in common. but thankfully, the world has been kind enough to not let you experience them. your optimism hadn’t been tainted.

and as you expressed to him — you try not to dwell over the ticking clock, only ever hoping for the best.

suguru’s hands are behind him, propping himself up as he gazes at sheer, distant clouds. the sky is a pretty mix of yellow, orange, and red. evening approaches.

“well, all that self-sacrificing stuff for the betterment of mankind — for starters.” he sighs, head leaning back. you wonder if you imagine the way the slight slivers of sun sparkle against his skin, and how angelic his aura seems in that very moment.

you scoot a little closer, gaze matching his as you look upwards.

“we’re helping so many people, though.” you reply, glancing at him for a second. his eyes are closed, like a cat basking in the warmth of the light. you want to kiss his cheek.

“we are.”

“i think it’s cool.”

“it is cool.” he affirms, nodding. one eye opens, and he shamelessly stares as you obliviously observe the world. suguru is suddenly grateful that this view is currently only reserved for him, as he’s sure anyone would fall in love with you in this exact moment. yet, at the least, he wants you to see yourself in his neutral vision.

but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

he looks at your hand on the grass, right beside his. it’s contemplation that’s been built up for months, thoughts of you invading all his senses. suguru figures that if he had a flower for every time he’s thought of you, he could walk through a garden forever. he inches his fingers closer.

and pauses when they’re less than a centimeter away, pulling back as you break the silence.

“i mean, i’d die for you guys too.”

suguru tenses, and you grow nervously quiet from the sight of his surprised expression, feeling suddenly embarrassed. an awkward laugh leaves your lips in an attempt to ease the gloom of your words, and you mindlessly wave your hand. “if it came down to it, y’know.”

you would in a heartbeat. you’d do it a thousand times over if you could, but you don’t tell him that. that proclamation is reserved for only you.

and as suguru looks over at you, stares, he doesn’t think he’ll ever despise an idea more than he does now. it’s blazing, the thought horrendous.

“don’t say stuff like that.” he demands, shaking his head brazenly. you can feel his eyes still on you, and he’s lost his smile. “don’t ever.”

all the defense, the stoicism, stemming from the thought that — yes. he 100% believed you would die for anyone. and that terrified him more than anything.

suguru isn’t sure how to communicate his thoughts in a softer way. he doesn’t mean for his demeanor to grow so cold again, but it bothers him - makes him sick - that you can say things like that so easily.

“i didn’t — i’m sorry.” you stutter, eyes wide. you swallow thickly, “sorry.”

and again, it’s hard to be upset with you.

but this, he can be against. he needs to be.

“you can’t think like that.” suguru speaks, softer this time. it’s pleading, as if he’s begging for a bit of mercy. and he is. “please.”

he wants to tell you that it’s okay to be selfish, to prioritize yourself first. but it would seem a bit hypocritical coming from him, because he knows he’d throw everything away in a whim if it meant keeping you safe.

love blinds him, he supposes.

“okay.” you nod, eyes on the floor. “i won’t.”

you’re considerate enough to lie, despite knowing full well that your words don’t align with your mind whatsoever. and you think suguru knows that.

he’s staring. you can feel it, eyes as intense as a midnight sky. you feel a little afraid to look up and meet them.

but it’s only instinct when he speaks your name softly, a coaxing whisper among suffocating tension.

you think he looks ethereal when being clouded with concern. godly, towering upon you. the magnitude of his gaze truly shows with the lack of distance. you register the feeling of his hand on yours before anything else, the touch searing from pure shock. a large palm covers your skin.

“… i’m sorry. i just care about you a lot.”

worry is care. it’s one of the greatest devotions — the act of panic for another person.

suguru thinks that romance may actually be the most horrific thing in life. that it’s not curses, but love. it’s the deepest weakness.

“you kill me when you get injured — when you speak like that.” he mutters, and the two of you don’t say a thing as his hand inches higher.

it feels a little harder to breathe.

“can’t promise i’ll stop.” you reply, a pitying smile finding it’s way on your face as you watch him close his eyes briefly.

“i know.”

suguru feels a little like a broken record player, doomed to repeat the same phrases like it’s clockwork.

it’s futile, you’re mutually aware.

he can’t control you, he’s unable to dictate what decisions you make — no matter how stupid, or how horrid they are to him. but he can’t bring himself to stop trying. maybe, if you’re reminded your value, you’ll eventually think the same.

but, honestly, the way you’re looking at him right now could make him believe anything.

“did you find out who’s joining you tomorrow on your mission?”

the corner of your mouth quirks upwards, and he knows your answer before you say it out loud. he grins.

your other hand places itself on top of his, and you smile back. heart giddy, but you try your best to keep your composure.

“i pulled a few strings.”

•••

december, 2015.

you wonder if growing up not only changes your body, but your soul.

because it takes a long time to realize how truly miserable you are, and even longer to see that it doesn’t have to be that way.

it’d be kinda hard to feel your unhappiness now, regardless.

“i prefer if you keep them outside, megs.” you wince, eyeing the dirt-covered paw prints on the hardwood floor.

the two perpetrators stand on either side of their summoner.

flushed and clearly embarrassed, megumi curtly nods. his hair moves the slightest with the movement, and he turns his head away from you, kicking his foot back and forth. “sorry, i wasn’t thinking.”

the dogs leave your eyesight quickly after. you snort, playfully rolling your eyes at him, walking over to ruffle the dark spikes on his head.

“it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” you smile, silently pleased when he doesn’t move away from the ministration. he’s always been more lenient with you, a fact you hold high over a certain white-haired sorcerer. “plus, i’ll just make satoru clean it up.”

if you had blinked, you might had missed the way megumi’s mouth quirks up, satisfaction clear as day. it makes you giggle, up until you finally inspect him closer. your eyes linger on the dirt covering the side of his white shirt, and you softly sigh, pursing your lips.

“how was the curse?” you ask, nudging him a little where the stains are most prominent. “roughed you up a bit, huh?”

megumi’s introduction to jujustu wasn’t entirely seamless, but he was definitely a natural. an anomaly, like satoru. born with talent.

you watch as his face turns sour, and his eyes suddenly narrow, the stoic expression more familiar. he avoids your gaze and looks at the door expectantly, mumbling something under his breath.

“what?” you reply, brows furrowing as you lean a little closer in hopes he’ll repeat himself. megumi’s mouth opens again, and he’s about to, but an obnoxious ‘i’m backkkk!’ interrupts him.

you share an unimpressed look with the younger boy.

satoru strides inside, whistling with a grin. you’ve spent too much time with him, years ticking off your lifespan from both the annoyance and contentment that he simultaneously brings into the world. he and megumi had left early in the morning, and it was around midday now — too long with him, as you can clearly pinpoint on latter’s face.

satoru’s hands are in his pockets, and he shuts the door with his shoulder, leaning back against it.

“missed us?” he smiles, and he walks over to throw an arm around megumi, which is immediately thrown off. satoru glares momentarily, but quickly looks back up at you, clearing his throat. “missed me?”

you stare, sighing softly before gently tugging megumi towards you.

“i missed megumi.” you correct, crossing your arms. your head motions to him, “and why does it look like he got pushed on the floor? i thought you said-“

“it was a grade three!” satoru immediately exclaims, and points to the boy beside you in accusation. “he told me not to get involved.”

despite his adult frame, satoru never really outgrew his childishness, still quick to blame anyone other than himself. his defensiveness was mildly irritating, but you've come to grow used to it. your head shakes disapprovingly, and you huff. “he’s thirteen, you idiot.”

satoru’s smile turns a little mischievous as megumi looks at you quizzically, a frown on his face. “so?”

you rub your head in annoyance, ignoring satoru’s ‘oooo,’ and gently flick megumi on the forehead. “you’re not an official student yet. dealing with curses by yourself can wait. for now, you fight with satoru.”

satoru dramatically sighs, and much to your dismay, approaches you. his arm infamously wraps itself around your frame, body leaning towards you, and it feels like the weight of an elephant, crushing you as you stumble. he doesn’t let up. “you worry too much. and he exorcised it! maybe with a little less ease than expected, but-“

he grunts when a hand collides with his side, and you’re too busy pushing him off to see the way he sticks his tongue out at megumi.

maybe your concerns were a little irrational, but your heart was in the right place. megumi was still young, still enrolled in a normal middle school — albeit, close to his last year — and you had originally planned to keep him completely innocent for just a while longer. no world of killing, curses, and whatnot. but satoru had pushed him into it within the first few months of his complicated adoption, and you secretly knew that there was nothing you could do to completely shield that side of the ugly world for him.

so, you suppose the least you could do was teach him how to protect himself. in case you or satoru couldn’t.

“well,” you sigh, defeatedly. there’s a lopsided smile on your face, and you expectantly look to megumi. “how was it, then?”

there’s a boyish smile, a little shy, that appears on his face. “cool.”

“see!” satoru grins, arms raising in victory. “he loved it, and he should probably do it more often-“

“fine, fine.”

it’s always been pretty futile to argue with satoru. not only is he stubborn, but painstakingly arrogant. he tends to think his ideas are always the best, simply because they’re made in his very head. and you can’t discredit them, because normally, they’re alright. but it can be frustrating. he’s also really hard to deny.

it’s only natural to give in. just so you can avoid drawing it out.

“awesome! i think he’s ready for a special grade!” satoru claps his hands, and you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

“don’t kill my kid.” you mutter, shaking your head as you turn, ignoring the way satoru’s smile settles into something a little more genuine. heartfelt, maybe.

truth be told, you’d trust satoru with everything and more. you worry and fret, but at the end of the day, he’ll still be there. he’s been stuck to you like glue for years now, and it didn’t help that you practically live under the same roof. different rooms, but realistically having no actual space. it’s nice, and you really do hold him in your heart deeply. at an arm’s length.

you end up being stuck with cooking dinner yet again — satoru winning because otherwise he’d ’poison the kids’ (which, you think is stupid because he could easily just follow a recipe. also, he’s used that excuse before.) — and it’s like clockwork, a routine, when you find yourself sat across from him on the couch afterwards, tsumiki and megumi long gone in their respective rooms.

you’ve found that gojo satoru acts a bit differently when it’s just the two of you. less irritable, and easier to talk to; you’ve noticed this since you met him. his voice gets quieter, the blindfold comes off, his hair falls, and you’re presented with a more raw version. and maybe the kids get a different version too, but you find that hard to believe when megumi’s distaste is so palpably strong.

“movie?” satoru asks, peeking at you through narrow eyes. his face is a little smushed by his palm as he leans against the armrest, and there’s a lazy smile on his face. he looks kinda tired, weirdly enough. exhaustion is so foreign on his face that it looks almost fake. you wonder how much he slept last night, spotting hints of darkness beneath the pretty blue of his vision.

you think it’s strange that you don’t get sick of his presence, even after all this time. that’s it’s forever missed more than loathed. you’re always in such close proximity, practically doing everything together, and yet you find that crave him every second he’s not beside you. pitifully, it might just be the attachment issues you’ve subconsciously formed, and have unfortunately plagued satoru with. but that reason just seems a little too sad for you to fully admit. everything realistic is somehow bitter. you softly sigh, momentarily closing your eyes.

you’d love to stay, just to hear his idiotic rambles and comments. they always brought more substance than the film itself. and he’s been gone all day. you rub your forehead, feeling a small inkling of guilt.

“i have a mission later.” you reply, apologetically, and smile sincerely. “but when i come back, yes.”

an active report coming from a town over — information on paper only describing the energy as ‘ominous.’

“oh,” satoru’s eyes widen, and though you’re unable to read the exact emotion on his face, he seems a little alarmed. nearly wincing. he’s kinda upset that you didn’t tell him sooner, that being visibly clear — but then again, did you really have an obligation to? he didn’t really tell you whenever he had missions. but that was because he’d return in a few quick hours every time. satoru didn’t like being gone for too long either. he never dragged out his departures; he hated to leave you by yourself, even if the kids were with you. it feels a little cruel. you watch his eyes dart towards the windows, and he shifts, facing you. the movement is a little awkward, and he pauses before his speaks, hesitant with his words. “want me to go with you? it’s kind of late.”

it’s sweet that he asks.

“satoru,” you chuckle, tilting your head. “it’s a couple of second grades. i’ll be fine.”

a little white lie, but you craved some action. satoru always got stuck with the interesting missions, and even then they posed no such threat to him. all of your assignments were simple, too easy to be considered enjoyable. if this was going to be the route you were taking in life, — exorcising curses — then you could at least make it somewhat fun.

satoru can tell something’s off. you’re too dismissive, and you won’t look at him directly. but he feels as though it’s not his place to scold you, and he trusts you dearly, so he ignores his gut.

“alright.” he shrugs, his arms moving behind his head as they nonchalantly cross, contrasting the way he feels a little unusual. “call me if you need anything.”

•••

december brings cold winter air, and you blow into your palms, attempting to warm the skin that’s begun to grow a little numb.

more people should go on nightly walks, you think. maybe then it’d be more calming. every street you’ve turned to is nearly empty, the only comfort being provided by dim overhead lights. but you suppose you’ve gone through more fearsome events, so this shouldn’t really be that big of a deal.

it’s a little frustrating to be walking around so aimlessly. the report gave no specific location, just the brief mention of a couple of previous sightings. by now, they’d more-than-likely dispersed to other areas.

you’re slightly tempted to call satoru for some help, as you’ve never been the best at detecting curses at a long-range, but you refrain.

it was late, and you know he’d probably never let you live it down.

satoru would never say ‘no’ to you. but there comes a price with that reliability and expectancy. small instances, like when you caught a cold, and had asked him to order for you at a coffee shop because your voice had been to sore to do so. he complied, but not without a relentless amount of teasing, even going to far as to lie to the barista, saying ‘sorry, she’s just really shy.’ he lived for your embarrassment, and it was generally harmless, so you couldn't reprimand him for it.

but sometimes every time, he’d have his own small apology. like how right after you had returned home, there was soup coincidentally ordered on your front porch.

satoru had walked inside without looking at you.

he can be tolerable. rarely.

you're nearly persuaded to go back home, midnight beginning to take a toll on your tired eyes. as far as you were aware, the curses hadn't caused harmful havoc. but it'd be pretty humiliating to head back without a small victory, and even then you'd probably stay up feeling guilty.

unintelligible whispers break you out of your thoughts, and you blink, eyes scanning the area.

goosebumps arise, and your head turns.

finally.

you nearly jump when you see it, though keep your composure, standing straighter.

it’s hardly detectable, as it stands. fairly large too. it might actually be a second grade.

you huff, brows furrowing as you inspect the curse. this was the cause of the ‘ominous’ energy? you feel it, but it’s looks don’t work well with it’s written description. maybe you’d be heading home sooner than you expected.

your hand reaches behind you to grab your weapon, and you move forward, testing to see how fast it’s reflexes are.

it doesn’t move.

you pause, rolling your eyes briefly.

“at least put up a fight, dude.” you mumble, nearly sighing as it continues to plainly watch you. you walk a little closer, up until you’re only a few feet away, and hum. “you’re not the brightest…”

you insert your weapon back into it’s sheath, and stare. it’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to see a curse so closely. they’re all usually extremely reactive, not sparing you a second before attacking. violence is their prime instinct; the main thought in their heads.

when you reach your hand to poke it, and it still doesn’t budge, you know something is wrong.

oh.

your entire body stills, and you’re certain that you feel your stomach drop to the floor.

something felt familiar.

confirming your terrible suspicions, the curse disappears in front of your very eyes. not exorcised. you’re staring at the empty space that it once occupied, too bothered by the fact that your heartbeat has picked up ten times faster.

you almost reach for your phone, but stop, feeling as though it wouldn't be the wisest decision.

this suddenly all feels a little too calculated. you don’t even attempt to grab your weapon again.

shock numbs your bones. it bleeds through and renders you useless.

you hear your name before you see him, and you figure it feels the same as the nearly-fatal slash toji had given you almost a decade ago. so painful that it makes your heart stop. it’s spoken with such intimate fondness — too much for your poor heart to comprehend.

his ubiquity is so daunting that you’re sure all time ceases to exist.

you don’t want to turn around. you want to run, flee before you know it’s too late. before you hear him speak, and the world comes crashing down all over again. you’ve tried so hard to piece it back together. every tiny detail - you’re not sure if you’d be able to start over. why now? when you’ve finally been better. when you finally believed that normality was even possible to achieve.

but you’ve always naturally given into him, and that habit stays strong even after all these years. you think he knows that too.

it’s with upmost hesitance that you turn around.

you’re not sure what to do.

he’s a sight for sore eyes. healing, beautifully transparent. a dear smile, inviting you closer. or more like a predator awaiting it’s prey. your body is giving you every negative cue, yet your legs stay in place, submissive to his presence that’s been so horrendously missed.

he a little looks older. or maybe that’s just the unfamiliar sight of all his hair down.

“hi.”

a part of you thinks that if you ignore him for long enough, he might disappear. leave you alone, as he’s chosen to do before. he’s lost the right to be welcomed.

fury is really the only emotion you could accurately pinpoint. you hate how soft he speaks. you hate it more than anything.

if you could stomach it, you’d ask him to close his eyes and turn the other direction. you’ve always been weak when he looks at you so intently, as if studying you to the finest detail. but you refuse to be the one to look away first - you selfishly crave his attention more than you value your own self-respect.

and as suguru looks at you, he thinks you’ve made it impossibly more difficult to do anything but beg for undeserving forgiveness. he’s staring at reflective streams, seeing as they slowly trail down your face. it must feel nice to be falling tears, symbolic of raindrops returning to the ocean. he’d like to sit in front of the ocean again. with you, being careless teenagers just for a little longer. but the ocean brings back bitter memories and the thoughts of a certain brunette child, so he refrains from thinking further.

“… don’t cry.”

it’s not a command of any sort, but instead a quiet plea. you’re too pretty for tears. too pretty for pain, too pretty for this unfair life he’s plagued you with.

he watches your eyes visibly widen, and your hand raises quickly, using your sleeve to wipe remnants of your intense emotions. it stains your skin a bit red from how roughly you move, lashes dismally coated with the aftermath.

“i’m not—“ and you huff, your throat feeling tight. your head bows by instinct, and you shake it firmly. you press your palms to your eyes for a few seconds, pushing harshly, as if the pressure could ease some of the shock, or ground you in any way. “i’m not fucking crying.”

cautiously, suguru nods. he’ll play into you, listen to everything you say even if it’s not entirely truthful. anything to make his appearance less daunting and harmful. he waits for you to speak, knowing the sound of his voice may not be as pleasant as he had hoped. he’s not sure what he was expecting.

battered already, in so much internal sorrow you might collapse, you breathe as deeply as you are able to. it shakes, and you opt to biting your lip instead.

harrowing disbelief is tainting your skin and bones, and it feels hopeless to even try understanding why he’s here. waltzing right back into your life, bewitchingly present. words linger, staying on the tip of your tongue as you internally battle yourself to release them. release you.

the air smells like rain. and you think — all this anger, it was once was love.

“i hate you.”

and there’s a frown on your lips, trembling as you try to muster up all of the loathe, resentment, and frustration into those three words.

it fails. because the admission is not of truth — if anything, it’s guilt. for the sole reason that you know your feelings stand the exact opposite.

you hate suguru for leaving you. not him as a person; him as a thought. a thought that consistently runs rampant through your mind, adding fuel to a prevalent fire that refuses to be extinguished. and you imagine that he likes that he still has that effect on you, because the hauntingly serene smile he holds doesn’t even falter, not for a second.

you’re forced to stare at him with that expression, and it feels wickedly taunting. not as comforting as it had before.

“that’s alright.”

it’s all he puts out into the air, and that gentle tone he holds kinda makes you want to hit him. he’s not like satoru — you’re sure he’d let you. but suguru can sense your agonizing heartbreak. he’d sense everything about you with his eyes closed. and he feels guilty for making you reopen old wounds, but he’s unaware that they’ve never been given a chance to properly heal.

geto suguru sees a little bit of you in everything lovely. the sun shining in the morning, the smiles on two pretty little girl’s faces, the moon casting a dim halo over the world at night.

you’ve only become a greater treasure. one to be cherished, to be adored. he’s missed you in his sight more than anything. you’re still a angel on earth, incredulously beautiful. even with tears, even with that despaired look on your face. he’s fighting every urge in his body to not step closer and mend your broken self.

he’d like to run his fingers over your soul and pour his love into each crack he finds.

“give me a few minutes. that’s all i need.”

he’d prefer an eternity. but he thinks that he’s asked for something reasonable.

it’s expected when you scoff, glaring daggers with blurry vision. but it doesn’t make it any less painful.

suguru can take it. he deserves it.

“please.”

the distaste on your face refuses to falter.

you crave to love without it having consequences.

since when had caring become so much of a burden? it’s evil, honestly. maybe stone-cold was the way to go. nanami might be on to something.

“stop this, suguru.” you whisper, hand sliding down your face in frustration as you let out a bitter sigh that lacks any amusement. “leave me alone.”

he savors the way his name sounds on your tongue, the drawn-our syllables holding the same familiar care of nearly a decade ago. it feels longer, too much time spent away from you. it lightens his aura, makes his senses heightened in almost a feral way. you speak of him like fate.

old habits refuse to die, and he stays where he is, the same face of persuasion used as he outwardly refuses your answer.

“kill me, then.” he shrugs, and he thinks he might actually die from the way your frown falters into shock once again. his smile twitches, nearly threatening to downcast.

it should be what you do.

suguru was a dead man. that fact hadn’t slipped your mind. you remember when satoru saw him, in the flesh, after the sentence. he couldn’t bring himself to kill him then, and you could briefly recall the look on his face when you softly told him you could eventually do it if he wasn’t able to. that solemn twinge, knowing something you wouldn’t admit out loud.

because satoru knew, better than anyone around, that if you went through with it, it would break you past the point of repair.

suguru, seemingly satisfied with your stillness, steps a bit closer.

it kinda feels like doom. you think the world may stop for a moment, and that all the bad things in life will come and finish you off. that death will take your hand, guiding you, kinder than anything that’s ever really touched it. because what it’s held before has cursed it.

when his hands reach up, you expect a knife in the throat — any consequence for the stupidity of your compliance. but the blades are soft, and they raise to hold your face. gently, as if earning the trust of a stray kitten. because they’re not blades, they’re his hands. he feels you shaking against them. and it’s odd that all tranquility really needs is a certain sight; reassurance in the form of a graceful being who has been absent for too long. you don’t move. you’re unable to. instead, you stare, taking in a lost future. hair you used to brush yourself, eyes that would watch you with such visible adoration. they still do, and that realization alone has your head hurting.

you feel his thumb wipe below your eye, and it feels cold over your heated skin. suguru sighs, his eyebrows furrowing ever-so-slightly.

“you’re very beautiful.”

it’s spoken almost hopelessly, as if the admission physically hurts for him to say. in a way, it does. he’s let go of one of the last devotions to you that he’s kept bottled inside of him, because he knows this might be the last time he sees you. he has to let everything go. you need to know what he thinks of you, how important you are. how he’s submitted his soul to the disaster of loving you since you were teenagers.

by the way his eyes narrow, and his pupils grow just a tiny bit bigger, your eyes widen, and you’re pushing him away instantly.

you know what comes next. you’re able to predict it before it’s able to horrifically conjure itself out loud.

“no, suguru.”

he follows after you, a firm yet gentle hold on your forearms stopping you from completely leaving. you’re already shaking your head, biting your lip as it threatens to quiver. he’s trapping you, and he knows he’s already won.

“let me.” he coos, rubbing the skin of your trembling limbs. and you try to convince yourself that you shouldn’t sympathize, or fall for that sweet, missed voice of his. how he’s just a stranger you unfortunately know everything about. to ignore gentle aura you’ve missed so much that you felt as though you’ve never been able to get a grip on the pain in your chest. “let me say it.”

you’re not built for this, not capable enough to take another harrowing blow.

“leave — fucking, leave.” you seethe, frantically attempting to pull your arms back, though his hold has gotten stronger, and the fight that you have left in you is quickly diminishing by the second. there’s a moment — the tiniest sliver of time — where you stumble, and you’re being pushed closer to him before you can blink.

“you don’t want me to.” suguru shakes his head, eyeing you carefully as you stop your movements. it’s declarative.

you’d like to slap him. knock some common sense into his head because, obviously. you never wanted him to. not when you were sixteen, not now, not ever.

it’s just defense. because you cruelly know that letting him in will just make everything worse. walls were needed for protection, even if the doors are halfway open.

his hands find themselves cradling your face once more, and he’s pulling you, a small gap being the only distance left between a terrible decision. you’re subconsciously following, body keen on obeying his every move. his gaze feels a little intrusive, looking so intently you have the urge to turn your head and close your eyes. your breath is shaky, and you feel a little light-headed.

you wonder if anyone else in the world has ever loved someone this terribly.

hastily, your hands place themselves on his chest with an attempt to push him away, but they stay pliant. you look at him, incredulously.

“what is wrong with you?”

it’s clear when his expression darkens a little, and he dejectedly looks to the side. you catch his eyes widening a bit, the harshness of your tone foreign, because you’ve only ever spoken to him with such tender care. you’re spewing out words with cracks in your voice, nearly whispering because you’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll truly start a storm.

“you… you kill people, leave me — leave everyone — and then…” your eyes close, and you feel the liquid trailing down your cheeks again before you’re able to stop it. you can’t finish your sentence, too busy holding your breath to calm a threatening sob.

it feels like you’re sixteen again, and everything is crumbling.

his arms move slowly as they wrap themselves around you, and you feel even more inclined to cry when he presses your head against his chest. like he’s done dozens of times before. he sucks, the world sucks. this comfort is long overdue, and you still can’t find it in yourself to complain, simply succumbing to the pressure of his presence. you’d like to hug your younger self. because she needed this, even if it can’t really count as closure. even if you currently felt your knees buckling from beneath you.

“i wish i could take away the pain, pretty girl.”

suguru won’t give you false apologies. he only feels guilt for causing you harm. he dislikes how pain looks on your face, and he wants to tell you that he’s unable to sleep at night without you, that every day is a challenge. that truthfully, the ache is mutual. but he has something to accomplish, and you stand on opposing sides.

the two of you are stubborn people.

“take it,” you tremble, and your arms are already around him, despite the screams in your mind. he feels safe. he feels like everything and more. “please, please, take it.”

the pleading in your voice makes suguru feel horribly ill, and he tightens his grip on you, not really knowing what else to do.

it’s worse when you’re the perpetrator. the criminal, the evil. he wonders what your life might have looked like without him in it — how happy you could have been. should’ve been.

but there’s been bad things — events that he’s sure might had ended horrifically differently without his existence.

he wonders how your scar looks, now.

suguru’s fingers are firm as they reach below your chin, and he forces your eyes to meet once more. they’re red and glossy, but still undeniably captivating. he’d like to look at them forever.

“i would, if it were that easy. i promise you.”

you believe him. it could be from the genuine strain in his voice, or your muddled brain that’s clawing to escape your own head. what good is a healthy mind?

he’s saying your name again, and it’s quieter this time. more intimate. you don’t cower, you stay, even huddling the tiniest bit closer. you’ve given up on composure, you’ll let him selfishly have you. besides, it feels nice when he’s treating you so delicately. hands ghosting over your cheeks, eyes that admire your desperate, sad ones. you don’t stop him this time, numbly prepared for the aftermath.

he pauses, trailing his thumb over your jaw, and swallowing thickly. he’s never quite looked normal. always too perfect in comparison to everything else. he smiles, and you see a hint of something that you can’t really classify as full joy.

“i love you.”

the world doesn’t end.

you’re still looking at him, thinking that it will for a moment. instead, you see bashful pink.

‘i love you’ is such a tricky sentence. it’s powerful, meaningful, and could also be a lie. the power of speech is that there really are no limits, and you suppose that’s what makes bad people. sometimes.

he toys with the collar of your shirt, briefly, and lets out a breath of amusement through his nose. suguru feels lighter. and simultaneously horrible. he tilts his head, barely, his voice quiet.

“will you let me kiss you? even if you hate me?”

there’s a little teasing in that sentence, and he nudges his nose across the side of your face affectionately. you’re unaware of how hard his heart beats against his chest as soon as he asks.

you’re sixteen once more, and you’re silently nodding before you’re able to think further.

you’re imagining fairytales you can’t believe in.

it’s hard to determine how long you’ve thought about it. his lips on yours. your hands are in his hair and on his face nearly immediately. you’d trade a lot of things to be this close for longer — you wish to be combined. and he’s soft. he’s so soft you dread taking your hands off of him. if heaven was a place on earth, it’d be this.

pitiful.

he tastes sweet, like a forgotten dream. butterflies suffocate your insides as you stand, and your knees feel a little weaker. suguru is a bit impatient with his movements, hands trailing down your sides to squeeze and caress. his touch feels hot and is hastily done, but gentle nonetheless. you feel his lips curl up against yours, and your stomach flips.

you rather not pull away. pulling away brings back reality, and fantasy is really all you want. if you kiss him a bit harder, and close your eyes a little longer, you’re able to stay.

he pulls back first.

you’re breathing heavy, eyes wide as they bore into his. he might be the most precious thing in your life, and you’re not sure if you’re able to let him go. you’re afraid that you’ll love him forever, and that you’ll never be in the same place again. this feels cruelly temporary, and you know it is. by the way his expression settles, and the way he repeats those three words so quietly, it’s meant for only you to hear. a fact.

“i love you.”

you swallow thickly, in a haze that’s caused just by his very being. a drug-like addiction, and you feel so content it’s like you’re home.

suguru knows you won’t say it back. and in all honesty, he prefers it that way. it’s what’s best. what matters most is that he knows you mean to. he’s able to read that lovestruck wonder on your face so easily it makes him warm. it was both a relief and horror to be known so perfectly. you, who still wears your heart on your sleeve. he’s forever grateful that you’ve always been so giving, so selfless when it comes to him. he feels as though he abuses your sweet compassion.

you tug on his sleeve.

“we can work something out.” you whisper against him, and suguru knows he’s gone too far. he’s tensing, and his eyes are anxious, a small shake of his head contrasting your nods. “i’m yours. i’m yours before anything else.”

heart, mind, body, soul. you’re bonded for life, and you’ve known that since you were young.

“oh, no, baby.” suguru hurriedly answers, and the desperation in your voice, the way you clutch on to him a little tighter, has his head reeling. he’s panicking. “you’re better where you are, sweet girl.”

you know his mind is made up, that it’s fruitless to try, but you’re so blinded by desires that you don’t even care that you’re begging him. he’s mean, doing this to you. there is no ultimatum or other decision - this is it. you’re just destined to be separate, and that hurts to realize, so you’re glad he’s cushioning the blow. just enough for you to keep standing.

suguru is complicated. he hates that he is, he hates what his life has brought him (the only exception being the beauty of the people in his past; you included), but he’s certain that you’re safer as it is. golden and pure. with satoru, with shoko. and you’re strong. you’re so strong he can’t put it into words.

maybe he had some reasonable motives — riko’s death, yours and satoru’s near deaths, haibara’s death — but they’ve shaped him. shaped you, more, as it seems. you continue your life, even after it’s been tainted red, and blackened with misery. satoru, the same. you can take a bit more. you’ve gone through the worst of it. at least — it’s what he selfishly tells himself.

it was stupid to come see you. kiss you, at that. but he can’t bring himself to regret even slightly. if he’s considered evil, barbaric, he’ll gladly take the titles if it meant spending more moments with you. it’s cruel, not malicious.

you’re still his person. but he can’t have you fully — at least, not in this lifetime.

suguru isn’t really sure he could pass on the torch so easily. to give you up completely — the most ultimate sacrifice. where there would be a possibility of his replacement, and the loss of his heart. he can’t trust anyone with loving you; no one can really love you like he does. he’ll take pride in that.

“you’re going to live a long, happy life.” suguru quietly assures, nudging his nose against yours. your eyes are tightly shut, overall avoidant. this might be a nightmare, if you believe hard enough. “find someone who loves you, and you easily will, do everything-“

“i don’t want anyone else.” you interrupt, eyes narrowing as they open, like the idea is something of the unthinkable. “you’d be stupid to think i do.”

this might be worse than unrequited love, you think. every feeling is mutual, besides the belief that you should be together. he’s the bane of your existence. and that kills.

suguru is reasonable. you understand his refusals, why the two of you can’t be — how immaturely you’re thinking about this. you can’t leave your life behind for him, it’d be asking for your own death sentence and the loss of everything left that’s good in your life.

you can’t create a cycle, as much as it pains for you to come to terms with.

“i can’t have you, pretty girl.” suguru sighs, trying to ignore the way his voice wavers the tiniest bit. he’s growing desperate in persuasion, but even he falls flat against the situation. “i want to, so bad, but it’s not right. we’re not right.”

your chest feels tight as you stare up at him.

you wonder, truly, if he’s aware of all the turmoil he’s caused; that he’s let happen, because he never even came back to offer a mere shoulder for support. he simply left you in the dust.

it hurts to hear, especially coming from lips that had been pressed so wonderfully against yours. you still can’t bring yourself to hate him.

you used to fear irrational ideas. that if you let someone in, take care of you, you wouldn’t really be yourself anymore. independency never worked well, and you’ve strung on a bit too hard to a knight in shining armour. a being like icarus, who’s flown too close to the sun. you were right, it seems.

you’ve lost, and it kills to realize.

bitterly, you remember hearing some time ago that ‘it gets easier.’ or better. it’s been repeated to you, multiple times. the reality is, you’re not too sure. what gets easier is maybe the coping. but even that is still evil and painful.

hopeless, you stand, and your voice feels hoarse.

“… suguru?”

how can you hate something so natural? when it feels as though those syllables are meant to be spoken in repetition. his name means excellence; to surpass all.

suguru looks at you, eyes previously occupied with gazing upwards to avoid an act of human emotion. they mirror yours, glossy and faintly red. no visible tears. he has the self-control you lack.

but you can be a little selfish.

“can you…” you take a deep breath, and lean a little forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck to escape a reaction. if he feels the liquid of your tears, he doesn’t comment on them. he’s awfully warm. you’d like to lay in bed with him under a summer sun again. you’re trying to force every part of him into your memory while he’s pressed to closely against you. how his hair tickles your neck, the security of his loving arms keeping you from physical harm, how pretty he looks up close.

it’s not greedy to ask for a final request, you think.

“can you stay with me, then? for a few more minutes?”

an innocent question, while he’s been nothing but cruel. despite everything, you’re still you.

it reminds him of his youth. when you and satoru would get into playful arguments, gaining a few steps on him, only for you to turn back and check that he was still there. or when you would return from missions, him being the first person you looked for every time, just to let him know you came back safely.

sometimes, you’d come back a bit battered up, and instead of confiding in shoko for help like any other person would, you trusted him with treating the wounds. all natural, because that meant you got to spend more time together. human bodies are fragile things. he realized the true extent of that after toji. you really can’t take anything for granted.

so it’s really no wonder why he fell in love with you. why he came to fully accept it. and his belief stands strong — anyone would. angels are irresistible, he finds. he would sometimes see wings.

suguru’s glad you can’t see his face. because maybe then, you’d catch the sight of a reflective shimmer trailing down his cheek.

the embodiment of your dreams, hopes, and desires holds you so gently, a little tighter now. he nods against you, but it feels disconnected, because he’s faded into darkness that has already consumed him. too far gone.

time is nothing for now.

and you wonder if it actually does get better, or if everyone is just lying to you.

•••

september, 2018.

“sensei?”

blinking slowly, you immediately straighten at the sight of three towering figures above your relaxed position.

there’s a panic that sets in at the recognition of how watery your eyes feel, and your head turns in an instant to cough awkwardly, avoiding their stares.

it’s around noon, judging by how pleasantly the sun shines through the window, and how awake your students look. yuji liked to sleep in sometimes.

“did i zone out for a bit?” you mindlessly chuckle, the words feeling a little strange on your tongue. you might have a migraine from how much your head is hurting. “i didn’t get too much sleep last night, sorry guys.”

your smile radiates a reassuring warmth, and the concern on their faces leaves by the time you look back at them. if jujustu didn’t work, maybe you could take up acting.

“we finished the warmups you instructed!” nobara beams, short hair flowing after her as she proudly stands. she glances at yuji, her eyes narrowing. “well, me and fushiguro did.”

yuji shoves her.

nobara has always reminded you of rough recovery rooms and gentle curing hands. it makes you a bit nauseous, the nostalgia of it all.

the sight of the whole trio sometimes felt like daggers digging into your heart, stabbing greedy wounds into open gashes before they have a chance to heal.

brighter days for them, a dull ache for you.

“you weren’t awake yet-“

“i told you to wake me up!”

“you did not!”

yuji and nobara bicker for a second, and you feel a little overwhelmed.

because since these two have set foot on campus, they had seemed oddly familiar. unbeknownst to them, but relentlessly distressing for you. you’re silent as you observe, the uncomfortable pit in your stomach staying clear as day. stubborn, because that’s only natural for you.

more than a decade has passed — nearly three years since your last encounter, almost a year after his death, and yet here you are. the hurt just as strong, because you’ve realized that the pain will never fully go away, and you suppose you’ll have to adapt to living with it forever.

but you’re grateful. though you couldn’t go back to the way things were, you have a chance at stopping the cycle. after all, you know little about what the future has in store for them.

you hope it’s kind. you want those grins to stay permanently, for their youth and innocence to linger for as long as possible. because you never had that luxury. the end of your purity was far too quick, adult emotions flooding your senses. you’d do anything to keep them from feeling like you.

plus, you’re allowed to grieve over the child you could’ve been.

“alright, alright,” you blink, interrupting them before their voices can get any louder. they immediately quiet down, turning to you expectantly. it freaks you out a little.

you were still relatively new to whole teaching thing, not used to being followed so attentively. it felt weird to give orders — to have them be listened to, really. satoru was more of a natural, his cheekiness benefitting him perfectly. even if the students found him undeniably strange.

“give me ten minutes and i’ll meet you outside.” you wave a hand, pointing to yuji. “and sorry kiddo, you’re doing some laps for getting up late.”

you fight a smile as you witness a pout form on his lips, nobara’s laugh drowning out his whining. you’d probably only make him run one, but it was always amusing to lie to his face. you adored yuji — he was a bundle of joy graciously given to the universe. it’s pure luck that he ended up with you.

you watch as nobara drags him out, your head resting on your palm, softly chuckling. they complimented each other well. like siblings, you think.

your head turns, finally facing eyes that hadn’t strayed away from you since you woke up from your daydream. it's like a sixth sense now. you know when he's looking at you, when he seems genuinely bothered. it took time to know him. he’s a hard shell to crack.

“you don’t get special privileges, megs.” you snort, motioning your head towards the door. “go join them, i just need some time to wake up.”

megumi looks unimpressed (and honestly, when does he not?), sighing softly before coming closer. the cushion beside you sinks as he sits, and you raise a brow questionably. his voice is blunt, quiet as it fills the room.

“you think too much.”

it surprises you a little, but you’ve come to learn that megumi is rarely predictable, and to always expect the unexpected.

“do i?” you muse, your smile visibly weakening as you softly laugh.

he was too aware of everything, perception like no other. he reminded of you of suguru sometimes, behavior so nonchalant in comparison to the rest of the world. they were both silent observers.

megumi nods, and you realize he’s rather close, only a few inches away from grazing your skin. touch was something megumi struggled with growing up, so you never pushed it on him; you hated making him uncomfortable, while satoru could care less. the giant didn’t understand boundaries. but sometimes, movie nights in his adolescence led to him latching on to you in his sleep. he had his moments.

it makes the action of his hand raising, pressing your head into his shoulder, much more meaningful.

“don’t think.”

megumi’s never been one for melodramatic situations. growing up, he’d used to complain when tsumiki would force him to watch disney movies with her, getting visibly annoyed when he’d spot her tears during more heartfelt scenes. you never brought up the fact that he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder (you secretly wonder if that’s why he’s doing that now), or would rub her back. megumi’s not kind, per say, but he knows how to secretly love (in his own, strange way. similar to satoru), and you think that’s more important than anything.

“that’d be cool.” you sigh, closing your eyes. your eyelids feel heavy on your face, and you try not to get too comfortable, remembering that you’d have to get up in a few minutes. “wish it were that simple.”

megumi hums, staring straight ahead.

your past is a secret to him, tightly kept in the confinements of your heart. and that's really the only hint he's ever needed to know that it still affects you. satoru, the same. he knew little about your lives before he came into the picture, only hearing bits and pieces when you and satoru would get a bit sleep-drunk and giggle about old memories. he's always tried his best to listen, soaking in any details he can. people are generally more honest and open when physically tired. it's why they confess things during late night conversations, and why the flow of words comes out more natural.

you were different from the idiot that had originally taken him in. megumi can scream from every rooftop that he hated gojo satoru (despite it being secretly untrue), but you? the mediator, who he looked up to more than anything? impossible, it’d be criminal.

maybe you disliked seeming hopeless in front of him, but he didn't mind that vulnerability. he wished you'd trust him with it more — that you knew he would never dream of judging you. he's not too well with words, or communicating, really, so he's also not too sure how to tell you. a double-edged sword.

"you're okay, though — right?"

his eyes glance downwards towards you, dark blue highlighting the inklings of concern. it's not awkward when he asks.

he has a heart, despite satoru's beliefs.

heart warmed, you grin, raising your head to look at him with crinkled narrowed eyes.

you find it funny how the world works. going in some strange, bittersweet chain of events because here you were, caring for the life of a dead man’s son while he had permanently tainted yours. and you're happy. not completely, but sun shines through. the blinds are halfway open.

something that had once seemed so dark has been becoming technicolor.

"yeah." you nod, sincerely, and pat his cheek gently, stifling a laugh when his face scrunches in silent disapproval. "thank you for asking. really."

his face gently pulls away from your touch, and you can tell he's slightly flustered, just a tad embarrassed at your small affection. you're grateful for him, unbelievably thankful for the bits of effort he's always put into caring about you (and tsumiki. and maybe the tiniest bit for satoru. tiny.). a true blessing.

gingerly, he stands up, hands in his pockets as he glances at you again, double-checking. you smile.

he only continues to walk towards the door when you give him a nod in reassurance.

you're left staring at your hands when he leaves, a soft sigh escaping your lips. some days are harder than others. it's the toss of a coin, no chances pre-determined. you simply wake up to the surprise every time.

admittedly, you miss the version of you that doesn’t really exist anymore. naive, but more open. fearless and valiant, only ever seeking improvement. you feel bitter that you took that time of your life for granted.

you’ve found that everything’s felt easier, though. something in the air is different.

“hey, did you leave the kids outside? it's hot out there and they're complaining like crazy-“

you hear footsteps come to a halt, and your head tilts up, finding satoru in it's vision. he stands in place by the door, eyes wide as he stares.

"hey," you nonchalantly wave, stretching to alleviate the soreness in your muscles. "i'll be out in a second."

you attempt to get up from your seat, but satoru ushers towards you, stopping you from successfully moving.

"woah, woah, woah — what’s got you so blue?” he asks, scanning over you briefly. there's a light-hearted smile on his face, and if you didn't know him well enough, you might have mistaken it for amusement. but it's down-casted slightly, and he's looking at you a little too intently.

you snort, rolling your eyes playfully, “i’m not blue.”

satoru blinks, unappreciative of the response that he can only justify was from being around him too often.

“fine — what’s wrong with you?” he corrects himself bluntly, crossing his arms. your eyes follow him as he takes a seat beside you, and you internally sigh, thinking about how you’ve left your three students to perish under the sun.

you wave a hand dismissively, "nothing.”

“aw, c’mon,” satoru drawls, and you have half a mind to complain when he sprawls himself over your lap, his eyewear pushed upwards and off his face as he looks up at you. the blue twinkles, even under the fluorescent lighting. “you’ve never been a good liar.”

“okay, now that’s a lie. a bad one.” you scoff, poking his nose. “i’m a talented actress. oscar worthy.”

he playfully winces, narrowing his eyes at you. “no one’s ever been honest with you before, huh?”

“who needs opinions?” you roll your eyes, nudging his head softly. “it’s all about self-love now.”

“yeah, yeah,” satoru whistles, peering up from one eye, the other closed as he visibly relaxes against you. “see how far that takes you.”

you gasp dramatically, “mean.”

the corner of his lips quirks up, and his familiar smirk returns.

banter was natural with satoru. it was hard to take anything seriously with him around.

he brings joy in mundaneness.

“you shouldn’t trust megumi, y’know.”

confused, you pause, looking at him questionably.

“why?” you ask, and you’re internally conflicted as you attempt to recall every recent memory in your head that’s a classified secret. or, something you’ve generally told megumi as of late. nothing comes to mind.

“dunno. he told me something was wrong with you when i walked past him right now.”

your eyes widen, and you groan, head falling back against the couch’s soft exterior.

traitor.

“so,” satoru continues, and his voice is softer, a little more serious. “really — what’s wrong?”

it’s always been pointless to beat around the bush with satoru. he’s impatient, immature, and wonderful. a bad mix that makes you wonder how it’s even possible that he’s generally likable.

“nothing.” you emphasize, rubbing your head in slight annoyance. “he’s making it up.”

you rather not have this conversation. not while the air is half-hearted, and everything has been steady. but he’s right there. and it might not hurt as much as you think it will.

satoru gawks, mouth open, before poking you harshly. “now you’re calling our son a liar? low blow.”

you huff, “he went lower by betraying me.”

a beat of silence.

“so he was right?” satoru blinks, and he’s sitting up hesitantly, awaiting your voice, or a movement. anything to confirm.

“will you leave me alone if i say no?”

“no? you just admitted he wasn’t lying.”

“oh. yeah.”

you’re smiling lightly, faintly awful because you’re not too sure how wise you’re being. maybe this was only the mature option.

“um… i was just thinking. about him.”

you hadn’t really spoken much about last december. there was no tension or anything — it was just a touchy subject for the both of you.

satoru had more right to be bothered.

you expect his expression to drop — for it to grow uncomfortably quiet, leaving you to voice a regretful apology. you’ve rarely seen satoru break. his joyous front is him in natural form. sorrow doesn’t look right on his face.

he’s only been at his worse around you. and that’s a fact that binds you for life, as dismissive as you two seem to act about it.

angels carry weights off your shoulders, and satoru smiles a little. albeit, visibly bittersweet, but a smile.

“we do that a lot, don’t we?”

he’s stupid, annoying, and infuriating when he looks at you like that. as if you two are similar, and he knows how to ice the bruises on your back.

(he does.)

geto suguru is an enigma. is, because even in death, he’s found a way to stay alive. he lives in memories; in thoughts that keep both of you awake at night.

“i guess i just …” you trail off, staring at the floor. you’d be okay with living the rest of your life by satoru’s side. he’s peace, and he knows you tenderly.

you exhale, a small bitter chuckle leaving your lips.

“i don’t know what to do with all the love i have for him.” you admit, arms laying flat as you shrug with a despaired smile that makes satoru feel a little hollow. your hands flow freely, motioning for a few moments before resting back in your lap. “i don’t know where to put it.”

you haven’t known in years. it’s bundled up, suffocating your insides and exhausting your soul. he’s too well tangled with it.

a lot was left unsaid.

answers you crave, questions that will forever follow.

“i’ll take it.”

satoru grins, and you have to bite back a smile from how infectious his expression is. it radiates sunshine.

you feel his warm hands cup over yours, and he gently rubs across your knuckles with his thumbs, soothing that isolating cold. “you can give it to all of us, actually. but more for me.”

he’s silly, and he’s everything and more.

you wonder if you would’ve made it through without him. he’s impacted your life so heavily, you can’t imagine a world void of his presence.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you mumble, smile ever-so-visible as you playfully nudge him. satoru nods feverishly.

“i’d adore it.” he’s beaming like the cheshire cat, and your expression falls flat as you await whatever idiotic words would flow out of his mouth next. he brings a finger to his chin and hums.

“you know what, though? maybe give some extra to megumi. but i’m not really sure any love could save that kid. not even a mother’s. he's creepy, i'm telling you-“

“satoru.”

he innocently smiles, eyes closed. “just a suggestion.”

you playfully roll your eyes.

it’s all romanticism until it truly hurts. love seems so small, so trivial, when you’re not being affected.

satoru hides his grief better than you ever could. he copes uniquely, and you suppose his way may even help you a little.

they should invent a healing that is linear, you think. so you can’t fall behind, and you can be all-smiles too.

but you’re close enough.

just the right amount, actually.

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watersunairmoon · 1 month

Text

cw: dom!(?)sukuna, choking, smut, degrading, kind of sweet sukuna at the end (cause im delusional) (i could fix him okay)

okay but modern!au Sukuna would totally be into some choking and impact play. Not only on you but on him as well. Dont get it twisted though, he’s still 100% the one in control, but i think he’d like it just cause it gives him that extra little shot of adrenaline to fuck you even harder.

The first time you realize he likes your hands around his throat was a complete accident.

Hes leaned back against the bed in your shared apartment, blankets and sheets scattered everywhere, nearly falling into the floor from all the fucking and rolling around going on between you two for the last 30 minutes. Youre already out of it at this point, eyes rolling into the back of your head while you bounce and grind on his length, the only things grounding you are your hands pressed firmly against his chest to support your body and his fingers leaving a bruising grip on your hips.

“mmm, ‘kuna, y-youre so deep like this” you whimper out, momentarily glancing down only to see the wide smirk plastered on Sukunas face. He always looked so good like this, eyes lidded, filled with desire, and body covered with a light sheen of sweat that seemed to only enhance his well defined body. He looked delicious.

“yeah?,” he replied, cocking his head to the side a bit as he glanced up at you, his large hands on your hips tightening as they helped you slam your hips against his. “y’ takin this cock so well princess,” he almost moaned, feeling you clench around his length from his praise. “but you can do better than that, hmm? Go faster.” Dominance laced in his tone, you were in no position to disobey, but your thighs were already burning from the workout, shaky and weak as you kept your current pace.

“mmm… but ‘k-kuna, im tired…” you whined, looking down at him with a small pout, even slowing down slightly to try to prove your point. As if it wasnt already obvious, Sukuna could clearly feel your thighs tremble with every move you made, but pushing your body to its limit was part of the fun, no? He loved to see how much you could take.

As he removed his hands from your hips, you sighed in relief, thinking he was going to switch positions and give you a break, but this thought was quickly proven incorrect when you felt his grip on your jaw, tugging you down so you were face level with him. A gasp left your lips and your eyes widened, looking dead into his. Not an ounce of amusement behind them as he glared at you.

“Did i ask if you were fucking tired?” his grip on your jaw tightened.

“Ah! N-no i-“

“What did i say? hm?”

“You said g-go fa-“

“Go faster. Thats right. Not bitch and complain. Now get to it. And dont make me repeat myself again.” And with that he pushed you back up, one hand returning to its rightful place on your waist, and the other lounging behind his head, watching you expectantly. “whining like a fucking whore…” he grumbled, loud enough to ensure you could hear. He couldnt help but to grin a bit, feeling your walls tighten and pulse around him, yet the pout on your face remained as evident as ever, lower lip poked out and eyes glossy. “Oh, dont look at me like that baby,” he cooed, looking up at you with an almost taunting expression. “I can feel your tight little cunt squeeze me every time i get mean…” His hand on your waist slowly made its way to your lower stomach, placing his palm flat against it and reaching his thumb down to rub little circles on your clit, causing a light moan to escape your throat. “Thats how i know you really are a little slut. Now be a good one and do as your told, yeah?”

God, he had such a filthy mouth, but youd be lying if you said you didnt love every second of it. Every word and groan that ever left his mouth during moments like these always went straight to your core, upping the wetness that was already dripping down his balls and making a mess on the sheets below you. So of course, you do what youre told, starting with a roll and grind of your hips, relishing in the way his dick massages the deepest parts inside of you before you start bouncing once again. Skin hitting skin with little pap! sounds every time your ass meets his thighs. And just as he demanded, you go faster than before, rapidly losing yourself in the feeling of him rearranging your organs.

“sh-shit, ‘s so good” you slurred, nails slightly digging into his chest from how fucking good he felt. Even with the aching of your thighs, you couldnt deny that riding him like this felt amazing. You tossed your head back, more little mewls and gasps left your mouth, so focused on his length that you didnt even notice how sweaty your hands were getting. With every ricochet of your hips, they slipped a little farther up his chest, making their way past his sharp collar bones, until they were quite literally around his throat, using his neck as support for your body weight.

You could feel Sukuna starting to lift his hips to meet yours half way, deepening the thrusts and making them feel more intense than before, making your eyes roll back and your moans grow louder. You almost didnt even notice the moan Sukuna let out, and honestly you probably wouldnt have if it was a normal occurrence. Sukuna usually did make small noises during sex, mainly just grunts and small groans, but this was a moan, like you had never heard from him before. A fucked out grin made its way to your face, proud of yourself for pulling such a sound from him, but when you finally dropped your chin to meet his eyes, you would have sworn you could have came right then.

Hands wrapped tightly around his neck, face a bit red from the lack of oxygen, pupils blown out, and his lips parted in a small ‘o’, you were shocked to see that he seemed to be… enjoying? getting choked? You really had to do a double take over his features to make sure what you saw wasnt just some sex-induced illusion that you were having. Sukuna had never mentioned being against being choked, but with his dominant personality you would have never thought hed enjoy it this much.

“S-Sukuna-“

“Harder.”

This caught you off guard even more, eyes widening and slowing your hips down to take in what he just requested of you. “Wha-“

“If youre gonna choke me, then fucking do it right” he growled, narrowing his eyes at you. He must have been a little embarrassed at this new kink the two of you had discovered, seeing as the more you looked at him with this ‘holy shit no way’ look you had plastered on your face, the more he seethed. He took this moment to bend his knees, placing his feet flat on the bed and thrusting up harshly into you, making you cry out and fall forward a bit. Sukuna grabbed your thoat, pulling you down to the same spot he had you in earlier, this time squeezing your neck brutally between both of his large hands, and continuing to use your current position to piston his hips into you at an inhuman rate, making your jaw drop and your brows furrow with pleasure as you looked at him.

“You too fuckin stupid to know how to do that? huh? Gotta be reminded what it feels like to get choked the fuck out?” He held you right in front of his face while he roughly fucked into you, broken moans and fragments of his name falling from your lips from his aggressive hips and how tight his grip on your neck was. “Yeah baby, use that dumb little brain of yours. You remember now? Huh? Fucking do it.” He spat at you, pulling you to meet his lips for a sloppy kiss.

You quickly tightened your grip, both of you know moaning into each others mouths, choking each other while he jackhammered into your cunt. He broke the kiss to tip his head back, closing his eyes and getting lost in this feeling of the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain and how wet you were getting from all of this, his own precum adding to the sticky mess of bodily fluids between you two. He was just as surprised as you were that he was into this, and when your hands had first slid around his neck, he almost made you move them. But even he couldnt deny that it felt good, and not to mention you looked so hot on top of him, he really didnt have the heart or will to interrupt- and now he was extremely glad he didnt.

High pitched squeals and squeaks forced their way through your throat from the abuse he was showing your core, absolutely no mercy as he fucked his way past your cervix, causing your legs to shake violently and that familiar feeling in your lower belly to grow with every passing second. Sukuna could easily tell from your heat tightening around him so much it was slowing his thrusts down, and from how much harder you were squeezing his neck without even realizing. But the asphyxiation was just riling him on even more, biting his lip between his teeth as he watched you start to crumble.

“‘Kuna! A-ah! ohmygod-d!” Your body began to twitch, hips now moving against his to bring you closer to your high even faster, chasing after it. Neither of you loosening your grips on the other, making the whole thing feel like some drug induced high, too caught up in your own pleasures to even think about lightening up your holds.

“F-fuck! Suckin’ me in baby…” Sukuna choked out, also getting dangerously close to his orgasm. “Cum all over this dick, y-yeah, c’mon princess…” He switched the pace of his hips, once moving quickly in and out in and out, were now punching deep, hard, slow thrusts. “C-cum for me”

About 6 deep thrusts in, you finally let go, cumming all over his shaft with the most pathetic cry of his name, a tear or two even rolling down your cheek from how good it felt and how hard he had been holding your throat. As you came, your small hands around his windpipe twitched, releasing their tight grip and allowing all the oxygen to flow to his brain at once. Between this, and feeling your velvety walls contract around him, he couldnt hold it anymore, pumping you full of his seed, moaning, and holding you tightly in place as he fucked his cum deep into your cervix, his clutch on your esophagus not letting up, causing your orgasm to drag out as well.

When he finally finished, he let go, allowing your body to fall against him as you both heaved to catch your breath, chests moving against each other as you gasped oxygen. Your body still lightly shaking as you clung to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Sukuna snakes his arms around your waist, holding you close to him as you both came down, rubbing your back lovingly as you did. He may be rough in bed, but that doesnt change the fact that youre his love, and he wants to make sure you still know that after all the degrading and aggressiveness. You couldnt help but to giggle a bit as you reflected on what just happened.

“So…”

“Dont. Dont start. Just lay here and be quiet. Dont ruin it.”

“I never would have thought youd like bein-“

“Yeah your done. Hope you enjoyed it cause its never happening again.”

…

it definitely happened again.

// damn my asphyxiation kink really popped out in this one. sorry guys. if this does well i might do a second part with the impact play stuff… we will see. hope you enjoyed though! likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated <3 and if you guys have any requests id love to hear them! i cant promise ill get to everything cause i kinda just do this for fun but i would like to write more! so send em my way babies. have a good day!

#sukuna smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna scenarios #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna simp #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fanfic

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theepisceswriter · 8 months

Text

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐓 — Gojo Satoru

♡ Synopsis: You and Gojo go together real bad and he loves spoiling you.

♡ A/N: MUVA IS BACK !!! This is my Renaissance moments (crickets cause nobody probably remembers who I am nmplpw). After lying to y'all like my daddy and saying I'm gon come back every summer, I finally returned with a lil sumn sweet for yall and who else to signify coming back after a long time than Gojo? I hope y'all enjoy and I did good, feedback appreciated since this is basically me dusting off lmao. Love you!!

♡ WC: 1.6k

♡ TW: not proofread, she/her pronouns, afab body parts, penetrative sex, intimacy, 18+, and I believe that's really it lmk if I missed anything.

“Gojo?”

His ears instantly picked up on the soft sweet soundwave that was your voice, vital to his ears like bees are to flowers. The quietness and tenderness of your voice alone is enough to provoke that primate instinct in him to protect, provide, and nurture. From his relaxed position on the bed, he’s quick to toss the phone that previously had his attention on the dresser and divert his eyes in your direction to give you his undivided attention.

And trust that when his gaze finally fell on you that’s exactly what you had; his undivided attention.

“Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” He cheekily grinned, head tilting to the side.

Your nude body that leaned against the bathroom frame was clad in a brown fur coat and nothing else but the precious jewels and gold that adorned your neck, wrists, and fingers. All courtesy of him, of course and you couldn’t be more thankful to have a man like Gojo in your life; One who spoiled, protected, and loved you like his life would end and become a waste if you left it. The love between the two of you was genuine and pure. You brought him out of a dark place mentally and he saved you from your humble beginnings. Without each other you’d both be lost and you guys knew that. Which is why everyday you showered each other in affection and love so neither of you would forget what this union meant to you.

“It’s the new one you bought a couple of days ago, do you like it?” Your fingernail lingered between your teeth as your eyes met his piercing gaze, his usual hue a shade darker as he drank you up in all your glory. You were so perfect just the way you were that you didn’t even need lingerie to catch his attention. How he hit the jackpot with you he has no idea, but he thanks himself everyday for every single choice that led to this moment.

“No.”

“No?” Soon you’re mirroring him, the same cheeky grin and head tilt occupying you too.

“I fucking love it.” He reiterates, motioning with his head for you to come to him.

You comply quickly as ever, gliding to his side in seconds giggles leaving your mouth in the process. You find yourself straddling his lap with both of his large calloused hands in the crevices that separated your hips from your thighs. You can feel his erection forming and pulsating against the thin fabric of his grey sweats. Which in turn pulsates against your bare clit the moment you’re settled on his lap. The small gasp that leaves your lips at the sensation leaves him almost in a drunken dazed, the effects you had on this man were far more powerful than any sorcery anybody could conjure up.

His love for you ran deep, but any lighthearted playful feeling that filled the room was now replaced with a thick yearning for lust. So close and passionate that you could quite literally feel the physical manifestation of your desire for each other in the form of an addicting body heat. Just as he was in a daze-like state over you, you were equally lusting after him. That’s what made this relationship so raw and lasting; everyday feels like the honeymoon stage when you’re both putting in the same effort.

“You drive me crazy you have no idea,” He muttered as he trailed his hands along your curves, his eyes following along closely watching the way your skin dimpled underneath his touch. He didn’t mind spending his family’s hard earned fortune on you if it meant he got moments like these, he’d go broke over you if he could just to show how devoted he was to you.

“I think I have somewhat of an idea,” Your arms found solace around his neck which you then used as leverage to pull him closer to you. The motion caused the fur coat to fall beneath your shoulders exposing your breast to him in the most teasing peeks that brought him to a rock hard state. You made sure to tease him even further by pressing your chest as close as possible to him as you leaned in to steal a kiss, the cold metallic jewelry in your nipples touching his every other movement sending electricity through his chest.

His lips engulfed yours with a ferocity so high that he nearly had half of your chin in his mouth as well and you made sure to return that energy just as strong, swallowing his lips right back. You didn’t even realize you had begun to swirl your hips down on his erection until you felt the vibration of a deep guttural groan on Gojo’s end reverb against your lips.

God, you could stay like this for hours, days even, but there was nothing you wanted more in this moment then to have him deep inside of you. And there was nothing he wanted to do more in this moment then please the both of you.

“Gojo, I want you so bad, baby,” You were able to huff out once the two of you pulled back from each other. Both of your lips swollen and red, a true testament of your passion in this moment.

“I’ll always give you everything you want from me, love,” His words came out in a murmur because the minute his lips detached from your lips they went straight to your neck, peppering your sensitive crevice with kisses. He teased your nipples with two quick kisses before he was lifting you and his hips up to pull his erect cock out of his sweats. Which now had a dark stained patch on the crotch area courtesy of you.

“Always so nice and wet for me, this pussy knows who it belongs to huh?” Before you could even elicit a response you were cut off by a moan. He wasted no time in dragging the swollen pink tip of his dick between your slit to collect your wetness as lubricant before slipping it inside of you with ease all the way to the base.

“My god!” You gasped out loudly, your walls immediately clenched around his cock but that didn’t stop your wetness from seeping out of you; creating a damp mixture with your cream at his base.

“This cock is all yours baby, don’t belong to nobody else but you,” He could barely get his words out in between grunts, just as turned on as you, if not more. His hands returned to your hips to lead the both of you to a rhythm as you rode him and lift you up just a little bit higher than you would naturally go so he could watch his cock slip in and out of you. Call him crazy but the sight was equivalent to fine art in his eyes, it was a marvelous sight that he adored to observe; how well the two of you fit each other. He was certain, just as sure as you were, that he’d never be able to be this connected and feel this much pleasure from anyone else during sex. Every single feeling he had for you uniquely belonged to you. He would never allow anyone else to have access to him the same way you do. This was a once in a lifetime connection and neither of you wanted it to end anytime soon.

“I love you so much.” He growls out through clenched teeth. That knot in his stomach was tightening and he could tell you were close to the edge too from how much stronger your walls began to clench around him.

This had to have been the type of pleasure Frank Ocean was talking about in Pink Matter, he thought.

“I-I love you- FUCK ! I love you more, Gojo.” You can barely get your breathless words out through pure bliss and pleasure. The only reason your eyes were still open was because you enjoyed watching your partner’s face twist and contort with each bounce you made. His clean and pale face now pink with lust and his signature white hair stuck against his forehead with sweat.

His hand travels to the back of your neck to connect you two for one last nasty kiss as you both creep up on your orgasms. This time tongue was involved and the kisses were bigger and sloppier than before, the two of you intoxicated with a dangerous mix of love and lust. Just the kissing alone would be enough to bring you to your orgasm quickly, but of course cocky Gojo had to collect some of the mixture of you guys’ saliva from the corner of his mouth and use it to rub your clit in circles.

“Cmon my pretty girl,” He mumbled against your lips, “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock for me, please. I need your slick covering me, please.” He practically begged.

And that was all it took for that overstimulating wave to crash over your body. A mixture of a moan and groan ripped from your lips and echoed throughout the room. Which led Gojo to join you in your high seconds later, your moans, knowing that he was producing, them doing the trick.

Immediately you fall off of him by his side and he’s quick to pull you into his side, grip tight as ever like he was scared he was going to lose you. You nuzzled into his side, neither of you caring to clean up just yet. Part of the reason being because you wanted to enjoy each others company and the other reason being because you were both very much still out of breath.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You recited in an almost sing song voice as you peppered his chest with kisses.

God bless anyone who’ll try to take him from you.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru.#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #JJK.#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fanfic

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fanta2y · 3 months

Text

Inherently Worthy Pt. Two

part twoo yalll !! i hope you guys enjoyyy, thank you for all the likes on the first part <3

cw: talk of death, mentions of loss of weight and sleep, talk of injuries not very descriptive

word count: 2.1k

part three

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The first thing you notice when you come back to is the throbbing that seems to cascade through your entire body. The second thing that filters through your dull senses is the low murmuring you can’t make out. It's like a gentle hum in the back of your mind, the voices are familiar but your head is swimming and the only thing it can seem to focus on is the aching pain in your joints.

You felt your eyebrows pinch and a groan leaving your lips before your consciousness really caught up with your actions. You attempted to shift, willing your eyes to open but the bright lights that shone through your eyelids made your body not cooperate.

A hand rested on your shoulder and gently pushed you back down, the voice said something. But it felt like your head was still swimming in the cotton, you remembered the mission. The curse, the wound, the blood. You remember feeling like you were going to die, you remember thinking you were going to die.

But everything else was hazy shades of black, you remember bits and pieces of movement and voices. Something deep in your chest telling you you're forgetting something, someone. Your brain is too focused on everything else to pay the weeping of your heart much attention.

A confused noise left your lips, your eyes still not wanting to open.

“Brat, stay still. Your gonna hurt yourself again.”

Ryo.

That got your eyes open, practically shooting up into a sitting position on the bed. The flare of pain you felt radiating from your side made you regret the decision fairly quickly. Hunching in on yourself, whimpering.

“See… you are so stubborn, woman.” He groaned, shaking his head at your antics. He shuffled around your bed, his hands softly putting you in a more comfortable sitting position. Doing a quick glance over your wound to make sure you haven’t reopened the freshly healed wound.

Your eyes never left his face, you're not sure why you felt so emotional seeing him after everything. It's not like he was the one who almost died. But something stirred in your chest, and you just couldn’t force your eyes away from him.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it!” Gojo said cheerily, breaking you out of your trance. A blush crept up your neck, turning your ears a light shade of pink. Sukuna choked on his spit, coughing into his hand and you're sure you saw his cheeks turning pink too.

But your mind must be playing tricks on you.

Gojo ruffled your hair as he walked past the bed you were in, still being monitored in Shoko’s office. A genuine smile on his face, one you return in earnest. As he leaves the door, going to shut it behind him.

“Don’t go to crazy, she’s still recovering.”

Were his last words before the door closes behind him.

It took a second for the words to register before your cheeks were flushed bright red, hiding your face within your hands. You wanted to throw something at him.

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” Sukuna muttered, shaking his head. As you looked up at him, you saw it again. The light pink that dusted his cheeks, the tips of his ears matching. The sides of his lips quirked up in an almost smile, one that was infectious and made you smile too.

You wondered if that was just your imagination too.

“How long was I out?” You asked, moving your vision down to the hands that sat in your lap. Fiddling with the bandaids that covered them, the IV that stuck out on the backside of one. If you had to guess, a day maybe two? You didn’t think the wound was anything remarkably bad. Jujustu Sorcerers get hurt like this all the time, it came with the job.

But the silence that followed your question had you thinking things might have been worse than you originally thought.

Your eyes looked up from where they were fixated. Confusion sunk into you. But as you looked at him, the longer the silence stretched on. You began to notice things.

He had dark purple bags under his eyes, he looked tired. His shirt was uncharacteristically baggy. He was heavy on his feet, his eyes had never been particularly bright but these eyes were almost dead-looking. The more you noticed how awful he looked, the more you grew concerned.

How long were you out?

“Ryo?” You called, hoping to get his attention. His eyes looked forward unseeing, like he was lost somewhere. You almost got scared that you weren't going to be able to find him.

Hearing his name from your lips seemed to pull him out of his haze, he clears his throat. His eyes fluttering close and he takes a deep breath.

“2 weeks.”

Two Weeks?!

That was crazy, impossible even. The wound had been bad, sure, you lost a lot of blood, sure. But two weeks? With Shoko’s RCT and all the medical supplies this school had in its back pocket. You were confused as to why it had been two weeks. You felt like you were missing something, something important.

“What do you remember?” He finally turns to you, his eyes still abysmally dim.

You allow yourself to think for a moment.

It was just like any ordinary mission really. Gojo had given you the rundown of what to expect, grade level, how many curses all that. It was simple enough, a few grade 4 and 3s, and a single first grade. Something you had handled before.

You remember Ryo’s incessant nagging about letting him come along, but you were adamant that you could handle this. That it wasn’t anything crazy and you would be back sometime tonight.

He had always been a worrier, you teased him by calling him a worrywart a lot. It was met with sheepish grumbles that never failed to make you giggle. But this time he was more serious about coming with you, which you couldn’t quite place how it made you feel.

A part of you felt warm and gooey inside that he cared enough to want to put himself where he could protect you, another part of you felt almost offended. Did he not think you were strong enough to complete missions without his help?

The thought grated against your ego and caused the hard push back. You had something to prove now, and look at where that got you.

After getting there, the old mall was just that, an old mall. You could feel the dark energy of the cursed spirits, but nothing suffocating. It felt like every other mission. You exorcised the lower-grade curses and moved to find the grade one. You had found it with a practiced ease, being a second-year Jujustu student meant you had plenty of experience exorcising curses.

You remember fighting with it, it being a bit stronger than you had anticipated. But you still weren’t worried. You were more than confident in your abilities to take this ugly fucker out. Until it sliced you. All the confidence oozing out of you along with the still warm blood now pooling on the floor. After that, you went into autopilot and exorcised it as quickly as possible. The memory of how exactly you did it was hazy with the blood loss.

Recounting all these memories to him, he listened intently. He stared unnervingly quiet as you continued on and on about how relatively normal the mission was. Nothing out of the ordinary besides your nearly life-threatening wound, well you guess it wasn't nearly now.

“How was I out for so long? I don't understand.” You asked, and once again he stilled.

Something was wrong, you could feel it in the way he was acting, in his body language in the way he was talking to you.

Suddenly he sighed, pulling the chair you assumed he was once sitting on closer to the bed. He sat down, placing his head in his hands.

“You died.”

Everything stopped, it felt as if time itself stood still. Died? That's impossible, if I died then how the hell are you sitting right here in front of him. Carrying on conversation, your heart beating peacefully in your ribcage. Your lungs expanding and deflating just like everyone else's.

Theres no way you actually died.

Not giving you a chance to respond, or even fully process his words. He continued,

“When I got to you, you were barely alive.” He takes a deep breath, attempting to stop the onslaught of memories. Feeling the blood seeping through his fingers, watching your skin lose its color.

Inhale. Exhale.

“Gojo warped us back here, but something with the warp and your wound. It made you worse, and you died,” He sounds choked, you swear you can see the tears glistening in his eyes, “you died in my arms.”

The last part was barely a whisper, if you weren't already listening so intently you would've missed it.

You stay silent, shocked into the state. You felt almost numb, hearing the recounting of your own death. Knowing he had to experience this made your heart clench, guilt pooling in your belly. You were the one too stubborn to let him come along, you were the one hellbent on proving yourself worthy.

Worthy of him.

He didn’t look at you as he recounted, he couldnt bare it. Everytime he saw your face all he could see were the wide, dead eyes. He sometimes could still see the red staining his hands, even after the countless times he scrubbed at them. Scrapped under each fingernail to rid himself of the remnants of you.

“So how did I..?” You trailed off, confusion still poking at the back of your head. Swimming its way through all of the other emotions you were experiencing at the moment.

If you really had died, something you still find hard to actually believe, how did you end up not dead? You didn’t think revival was possible. Unless Gojo had some secret cursed technique he wasn’t telling anyone about. But with that ego of his, something made you doubt that that was the case.

“Even though you were dead, Shoko continued to do her RCT on you. She healed your wounds and continued to pump cursed energy into you. It was a long shot, but since you hadn’t been dead that long, it somehow got your heart pumping again. And then it was just a waiting game to see when....if you were going to wake up.”

At the end of his talking, he finally turned to face you. You really got a good look on how hed been doing these past weeks. The bags you saw were much worse, deep purple. They almost looked like bruises, his eyes were bloodshot. Whether that be from crying or lack of sleep it was hard to tell.

In all the time you knew Ryomen, in all the years of ‘friendship’. You had never seen him like this. He was a rough around the edges type of guy. He had a nasty temper and an even nastier mouth. And when he was angry he was sure to make it everyones problem.

He said some mean things and done some mean things. Many would consider him heartless, or cold. But, ever since you had first met him something told you he was different. You noticed the way his eyes shined when his little brother, Yuuji, rambled on about some new manga he was reading. Or when Fushiguro would be able to land a hit on him during training.

How his lips would curve up ever so slightly when on the receiving end of one of Panda’s and Inumaki’s pranks before swiftly chasing them out with harsh words and loud screams. You noticed that his center, his heart, was gooey. It was soft with the care of those he deemed worthy of his love. And that was a hard battle to win within itself.

But seeing him completely debauched and destroyed, only made the guilt grow and fester. It began boiling in your gut, you willed yourself not to focus on it. Not right now, you didn’t need to worry him any more than he clearly already was.

Silently, you moved forward on the bed. He opened his mouth to reprimand you but was stopped by your frail hands making contact with his cheek. You cupped it there, and he had to will every bone in his body to freeze, to stop himself from nuzzling into your palm.

“I’m here now, I’m okay. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, trying so hard to push aside your struggling emotions to comfort him. To be there for him. All of this pain and suffering was your fault, you had overestimated yourself, and had been too prideful. And this was the consequence of it.

His hand shakily grabbed onto your wrist, closing his eyes with a deep breath.

“I know.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

authors note: I LOVE THIS PART !! i really love the way it turned out and i think it sets up for the rest of the story really nicely :)) with the whole RCT thing, dont come for me if its not accurate this is an AU so it works cause i say it does LOL but anyway, thanks so much for reading !! I hope you guys enjoy :))

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freckled-koi · 5 months

Text

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒂𝒓

summary: you've known gojo since your training days at jujutsu tech. you were inseparable - as thick as thieves. so, what happened?

pairing: satoru gojo x reader (feat. nanami x reader).

cw: angst, emotional manipulation / mental spiral, mature themes. 18+ / minors dni.

wc: 3k+.

a/n: second chapter is now up! this is starting to become more of a slowburn of a fanfic, and honestly? i can dig with that as long as you can. <3 please enjoy!

( ◡ ◡ ♪ ) ｡

highly suggest reading chapter 001. first! you can also read it here on ao3!

“When did you pick that up?”

You’re caught by surprise by the low purr of a voice filled with curiousness, snapping your head in the direction of it. You were in the middle of lighting the cigarette dangling from your lips, the fire from the lighter going out when you released the mechanism. You were just alone standing by yourself outside of school, not expecting to run into anyone in particular.

“Don’t tell me hanging around Shoko is rubbing off on you..” The man sighs, amusingly hopeless at his own words. Your eyes scan over his much sharper features all the way up to his jet black tresses tied back into a bun to keep the longer strands away from his face and down his back.

You always found it a shame he never cared for his hair down that much. It framed his face better.

All you do is let out a light laugh, shrugging your shoulders as you pluck the cigarette from between your tiers to speak.

“Shoko and I bum off each other’s smokes whenever we hang out,” You try to become a voice of reason, but you realize it’s not going to do much when you see a flicker of disbelief on the man’s features.

“Don’t tell me you rag on Shoko for smoking, Suguru.”

“Even if I did, she would still do it–”

“Which is why, I’m going to continue doing it~ It helps.”

Suguru Geto doesn’t protest it, knowing he wouldn’t win the war on what was healthily correct for you. All he does is manage a smile, taking a small glance around their surroundings.

It was a bad habit you would dabble in for quite some time, but coming to Jujutsu Tech, you started doing it much more. You even found a small bond with Shoko one night after a stressful trial assignment when you were just a newbie sorcerer. She caught you whipping out a pack you rifled through your bag to find and asked to have one.

You sort of found comfort in doing it more than ever.

Maybe it was a bad way to manage coping with stress, but old habits will die hard.

You sigh after taking a moment to debate, eventually tucking the unlit cigarette back into its packaging and store it away into your bag. Smoking could wait until you were back at home.

Golden hour was upon them when you stand with Geto, glancing back at him as he’s found meeting your gaze. The hues over his skin made him stand like a god, it was almost sickening how pretty someone was without even trying. Although, there were signs of distress under his eyes that you were suspicious about. He looked.. Worn. As if sleep wasn’t something he was getting much of late.

“Are you waiting on Satoru?”

“Not quite.. I just so happened to begin my route home and just caught sight of you.”

There’s a quirk in your brow to his words, an amused expression crossing Geto’s features when he looks at you with a quiet laugh leaving him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You shrug.

“Usually you’d be the one walking home with him.”

All Geto does is shrug off the statement, a smile still gracing his lips.

“He’s got his own thing going on.”

“Like you do?” You ask with jest in your tone. It was only meant to be as a way to poke at Geto, but there’s a flicker of an emotion in his eyes that didn’t match the way his lips were still tugged into that signature smile of his. As if, to mask whatever emotion he was holding back.

“Yeah. I got my own thing going on.”

“Oi!”

The both of you break eye contact to see the taller white haired boy jogging over from afar, shades shimmering and gold reflecting off of them. It’s then that you see Suguru beginning to turn away, fixing the bag on his shoulders.

“That’s my cue to leave–”

“You’re not sticking around?” Your brows twitch together, staring after the other just as he slows in his steps by your words.

Geto is hesitant to reply, only giving you a small raise of his hand.

“Catch you later, Y/N.” He says his departing words with a care you knew was genuine, but it did nothing but cause a small dip in your stomach to it.

All you do is watch as Geto grows further and further away with you, the white haired boy now caught up completely to where you stand.

“Hey, ready to go?”

The question is almost muffled to you, hardly tearing you away from your gaze settled on Geto. You couldn’t help the idle pondering of what was just going on with him. It was highly unlikely that he wouldn’t stick around to chat with Gojo, because he was always around Gojo. So, what changed?

“Y/N?” It’s when Gojo says your name that you break away from your thoughts, turning your head to look up at him and he has that feigned innocent expression on his features you’ve only seen a small handful of times.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said~, are you ready to go?”

“Oh, right– Yeah.”

You’d push it back to your mind to think on later. Gojo had been begging you to come back to his place to hang out, to watch the latest cheesy rom-com that he had been blabbering about for the longest time and wouldn’t stop until you caved to accompany him.

It’s then that you two start to walk together side by side, drawing your lips inward in thought before your gaze returns back up to the other. You tried pushing it to the back of your mind, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

“Is he doing okay?”

“Who?”

“Satoru, you can’t be serious.” You sigh hopelessly.

All he can muster is a sheepish laugh, his arm swinging around the space between your arm and shoulder to draw you close to his side. The affection wasn’t too unfamiliar, having a knack for breaking that personal bubble of yours just to be handsy. You were sure his love language was physical touch.

“Suguru’s fine~ I speak to him in passing when you’re not around, you know,”

“Hm..” You exhale a soft hum with the concern still written on your features.

“He really is fine. I try to check in on him, but we’re always off doing our own assignments these days anyway.”

It wasn’t reassuring in the slightest, the way Gojo spoke, but you decide that it was best to drop the topic at hand before he got riled up. Maybe you’d try and catch Geto at the right time and place for a chat the next time you crossed his path.

Your head tilts a bit to get a better look at Gojo when you walk and he meets your gaze, trying to look past his dark shades with a playful grimace.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you always have to cling onto me like this?” You joke, but you don’t pry yourself away from his side at all. Even with what happened moments ago, Gojo’s body was like an anchor for you to ease your nerves – no matter how many times he stepped on them for fun.

It only brings a sly grin stretching over his lips as he leans down some to rest his head on top of yours, rubbing his face into your hair like a cat.

“Aww, but you like it, don’t you, Y/N~? A handsome guy like myself being all over you~”

“Ugh–” You snicker just before you’re pressing your palm to his side to give the both of you some distance, playfully gagging to the way he speaks. “You’re literally disgusting.”

“Oh, come on~” Gojo whines, reaching to draw you back to his side and place his arm back where it laid.

“You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you to be the American movie watcher type.”

You comment just as you’re taking a sip from the mug of black tea you found in the kitchen after you changed into the loungewear you had packed for your stay, idly twirling the tea bag string with your finger as you watched him set-up the television from the sofa.

Gojo stands proud and tall, the DVD he was flopping around in his hold now on his finger as he grins in your direction, even going as far as showing off, using his Infinite to make it hover.

“I’ve been dabbling here and there into American movies, so I can’t help but have a growing obsession over them~ Don’t have to understand the language to enjoy something great,” He laughs and that just makes your lips quirk up into a smile.

You find his childish excitement rather endearing. The moment he catches your smile, he pauses and allows the disk to fall flat into his palm and he’s turning to place it into the player.

“Plus, subtitles exist.”

The comment makes you snort softly, taking a careful sip from your tea just as you set the top of the mug onto your thigh.

Gojo and you would do this often. You’d kick back at his place on a Friday night watching a numerous amount of films since you both were big time cinephiles. He had a guest room always made up for you, so you didn’t have to worry about the time getting away from you and beating the clock past curfew to get home.

Most of the time it was horror movies, other times it was action and adventure. The films you indulged in with Gojo were a variety, but the romance comedy ones were new for you. Not that you’ve never seen one, you just didn’t find any interest in them until Gojo was practically on his hands and knees to have you sit in on one with him.

After he places the disk into the player, passing through trailers you both didn’t care much for, the movie is now playing on the screen and he moves to join you on the sofa.

Usually, he would be a cushion over, but he’s placed himself close to you this time.

Odd.

You don’t think twice about it.

His arm settles onto the back rest of the sofa right behind you, leg propped up onto his knee away from you. Your legs were crisscrossed into a more comfortable position, allowing your attention to be directed towards the screen.

The plot was easy to understand from the get-go. Two women hardly enjoying their places in life, their resided homes across the world, so they switch homes for a little vacation. The brother of one meets the girl staying in the one woman’s little English cottage, while the other meets a complete stranger that knows how to produce music in the other’s mansion.

The two of you share a laugh at some parts, Gojo making idle comments out loud to you and to mostly himself throughout the middle of the film.

It was a traditional, corny romance movie – something you weren’t incredibly surprised by. The build up of the lingering romance between the two couples were clearly enamoring, so you’re definitely surprised with yourself when you’re so focused on the film.

You feel a subtle brush in your tresses near your shoulder that causes a small shudder that crawls up your neck. Thank God you knew how to use your peripherals so you didn’t have to turn your head to look, catching Gojo still facing towards the screen with his features lit up by the television screen that shapes his side profile. The expression he wears is soft, and it’s an expression you haven’t familiarized yourself with since getting to know Gojo.

You knew more than the average acquaintance, but not in the similar manner as he was with Geto or Shoko.

The brush of fingertips graze along your shoulder through your crewneck, dragging up over the neckline, playing right at the hem where fabric ended and your flesh began.

What is he doing?

Maybe it was just a mindless thing he caught himself doing. It doesn’t help that the goosebumps are beginning to form underneath your sweater, gripping the now lukewarm mug you were clinging onto during the movie.

You can hardly pay attention to the movie now, a little distracted but you remain strong and a little still, wondering what he was going to do next.

However, Gojo doesn’t really go any farther past the neckline, even taking pauses in his movements. It’s when you catch the pause that your head subconsciously turns a centimeter, and his eyes immediately flit to lock with your gaze.

He smiles and it’s one of the warmest smiles he’s worn, making your throat grow tight.

“.. Are you enjoying it?” Gojo says gently.

“Oh— Yeah, it’s pretty good so far..”

“See? I’m never wrong about these things~”

You quietly laugh, grinning now by the comment just as a few strands of hair fall past your face that were tucked loosely behind your ear. His hand resting near your shoulder lifts to bring over to neatly, delicately tuck them back into place. The subtle graze of his fingertips at your skin burns and you’re not sure if it’s because of how intimate the touch is or the contrast of his cool fingers on your gradually reddening skin. But he’s never gone as far as to do that.

Sure, he’d cling to you and rub his face on your shoulder, your head, but it was all just playful.

This wasn’t playful.

The only thing that fills the quiet between you two is the dialogue and musical score emanating from the television. Gojo’s attention wasn’t going back to the movie, and strangely, neither was yours. As if you both were wanting to say something, but nothing was coming to fruition.

Gojo is the first to break the silence.

“What are you so pretty for~?” He purrs.

It sounds so sickly sweet and makes a wave of warmth wash over you.

It’s hard to formulate words when he’s hardly doing a damn thing, and why it was affecting you now was beyond you.

All you manage is a roll of your eyes, head turning to face back towards the television.

“Oh, now you’re complimenting me?” You say in amusement.

“Hey,” Gojo’s hand reaches over to take your chin with his thumb and forefinger to guide your face back. You’re completely doe-eyed when you're brought back to fix your gaze onto his piercing blue set, his own lids low. “I wasn’t done looking.”

“Y- You see me every day, Satoru.”

“Mnn~.. Not like this though.” You didn’t realize it, but when he took hold of your chin, he closed the proximity between both of your bodies, just where his thigh just barely pressed to your own, hardly giving the both of you that space.

The position he put you in was making your heart race.

“Satoru..” You repeat his name again softly, and he sighs to that.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

Gojo’s lips quirk up into a gentle smile, the pad of his thumb brushing along the curve of your chin before it lifts to just barely touch the bottom of your lip.

“I want to try something with you.”

You feel that surge of warmth run through you again because you knew where this was going just based on the hold and the way his thumb runs delicately over your lower tier; How he looks at you – how close he was to you. It makes your stomach twist, your shoulders tense up. Hell, the idle thought of doing those sorts of things with Gojo was just a fleeting, intrusive thought all on its own, and you never really thought you or him would actually act on them. There were moments where those fleeting touches and catching each other’s gaze would make you feel some type of way. Maybe even the times where he was clinging onto you and pulling you in close too, but it was nothing you dwelled on for too long.

Gojo and you were just friends. Friends don’t do those sorts of things.

You’re hanging onto his words now, the movie now long forgotten and only becomes background noise at this point in time. You can’t even seem to give a response to his words and it only makes him quietly snicker to it.

Gojo shifts, closing that proximity between the two of you and only leaving just mere centimeters of your frame to his, guiding you by your chin and your body willingly follows suit.

“If it doesn’t work, I won’t do it again.”

It’s the last thing he says just before he’s leaning in, your eyes fall shut because staring at him with that doe-eyed look you were getting accustomed to was crazy. The hands around the mug are tight, you almost could break the glass if you squeezed it any tighter. It’s then that Gojo completes his goal of making sure there was no room left between the two of you, his lips finding purchase on your own in a slow kiss.

It’s so warm and delicate, mindlessly melting into just how much he’s drawing you in by it. You never thought this was how it would feel to kiss Gojo. Maybe it was entertained in your mind for much longer than you would admit – you felt it would be the type to rush, sticking his tongue down someone’s throat in the heat of the moment, but he was taking his time. The palm of his hand slides with ease to cradle the side of your face now, thumb dragging over the apple of your flushed cheek just as his lips part to take it a step further, almost as if he was deepening the kiss and your own couplets follow.

What am I doing?

There’s a sliver of realization that comes back to you and your eyes flutter back open, retracting from the kiss with a soft sound. Your eyes meet with Gojo’s piercingly blue orbs, almost a little surprised by how short the lip lock was between you two.

“I– I have to use the bathroom–” You quickly declare, and you only can remember the small flicker of confusion crossing Gojo’s expression just as you scramble to set the mug on the coffee table.

You feel you grasp at your hand, stopping you from moving any further from your place near the sofa. You snap your head towards Gojo’s hand holding yours before they reach his eyes again. There’s a clear look of surprise on your features to him grabbing you. Didn’t he say if it didn’t work out, he wouldn’t do it again?

“Wait, Y/N–”

“Just– Just give me a second.” You say firmly and Gojo takes that as a sure sign to back off, allowing you to push off his hand as he slumps back into the sofa and you make your way to the bathroom just around the corner.

Locking the door behind you, you finally sigh out as if you were holding your breath the entire time. Your hands come up to push at your tresses, doing a small pace in the minimal space of the bathroom.

“What the fuck.. What the fuck.” Your hands come up to shield your face as you stop in front of the sink, having to just replay what just happened. Was he doing that just to fuck with you? Maybe entertain something and go beyond just kissing, to get you to do more? Did he mean to do any of that? Hell, you must’ve had his attention with how much time you both had spent around each other and him doing this was more than clear.

It was all way too overwhelming and confusing for you to process, hands now bracing the edge of the sink after reaching to turn the faucet on. Your eyes linger on your reflection in the mirror, staring over the flush on your cheeks and how widely blown your eyes were, brows knitted together in frustration.

Gojo put you in such a vulnerable state, it was almost becoming uncomfortable the more you thought about it. You bring your lips inward, fixing your posture as you bring a hand to your lips to touch. The kiss was.. Lovely, but.. You were wishing you were more mentally prepared before he decided to just ‘try something’ with you.

After a while longer, you come out of the bathroom. It was quiet for the most part, figuring he must have paused the movie after you left.

You return to the room and you see Gojo is still seated, one arm over the back of the sofa while the other is propped up on the arm of it, hand balled up and resting his chin there. He switched positions, being at the very end of the couch.

It’s when he feels your presence, he turns his head back to you, facial features relaxed as he stares over your frame.

The both of you are so quiet, you don’t even know what to say to him before you’re walking back over. This time, you seat yourself at the opposite end of the sofa, and he watches you as you move.

You break the silence first.

“Can we.. finish the movie?”

You request with a hesitance in your tone, bringing your legs back up to crisscross back into their original position and all Gojo does is nod once and he’s hitting play on the remote.

Both of you sit in an awkward silence, hardly even responding to the movie’s plot and reveling in the moment you both shared not even minutes ago.

Both of the girl’s get the guys they weren’t hoping to find in the film.

The hands resting on one another in your lap tightens to that.

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru #gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujustu kaisen fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #anime #anime fic #anime fanfiction

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unique-high · 9 months

Text

2 am a late night with you

Suguru Geto x Black Fem Reader

Summary: You broke up with Geto nine months ago and he shows up drunk at your place just to see you.

No Warning tags. Just the mention of blood and fighting.

Word Count: 935

"Geto." You said surprised when you opened your apartment door to find your ex slumped up against the wall to prevent himself from falling. Geto's face is red. He has a busted bottom lip and a black eye. Hearing you say his name reminds him of why he's here at your apartment at 2 am.

"Can I come in?" He asked. His words slurred and his voice raspy as he stumbled forward.

You look down at your pink bunny slippers thinking. It's been nine months since the breakup. You removed any traces of Geto from your life. Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you ever had to do. But he was a thug, a low life with nothing going for him but his gang and beating the shit out of rival gangs.

Your parents disliked him. They thought you could have done so much better. So when they set you up with a man named Gojo who was rich and graduated from an Ivy League university, they thought he was just right for you. You never wanted to rebel against your parents so you broke up with Geto and started to get to know Gojo and eventually started to date him but to you, you found him boring. He wasn’t as exciting and adventurous as your Geto.

“Yeah, sure.” You let him into your apartment. You smell the cheap whiskey and the cigarette smoke coming from him.

Geto looks at you as he passes by. He saw you had your natural hair braided back. His memories seep back to the nights you and him stayed up late doing your hair. You taught Geto how to do cornrows. He caught on quickly. That moment was special for Geto because he learned to do other things with his hands besides beating the hell out of someone. His hands also learned to love you. The roughness of his palms and fingers missed your body. You never liked your body but Geto showed you every reason he admired it. Kissing you in the places he loves the most. So when he walks past you, you don’t miss the way his hand presses to your waist before slowly falling away.

“I’ll get the first aid kit.” You said as you walked down the hall to your bedroom to grab the kit. When you return, Geto makes himself comfortable on the living room sofa. You kneel between his legs with the kit in hand and open it. You always fixed him up after a fight. You loved hearing the gruesome details of the bloody fights and how he barely made it out alive.

“You don’t have to do this Y/n,” Geto said, staring down at you.

“You’re hurt. Let me fix you up.”

Geto smiled at you. He loved that you cared. Loved that you never looked down on him because he was some thug. You were the first person who made him feel human, so human that he himself felt human again too. He flinched when the cotton swap touched his bottom lip.

"I...I...Uh, I miss you.” Geto says quietly. “Does he um…treat you right?”

Of course, you didn’t know how to reply to that. You were with Gojo now and saying that you miss Geto would be shattering that mirrored reality you created with Gojo.

“He does.” You said as you examined his split lip closer. He liked the fact that you always smelled of shea butter and cinnamon.

“That’s good,” Geto said. He wanted to know this Gojo guy. Shake his hand to see if they were soft or rough like his. You could tell a lot from a person's hands and that's all Geto needed.

“You found anyone yet?” You meet eyes with Geto. A dumb question to ask because you knew Geto would never move on so easily, not from you. Every bit of you was too deeply intertwined with him.

“Not yet.” He smiled. But it’s broken. “No one can compare to you, Y/n.”

“Let me get an ice pack for your eye.” Before you can leave Geto grabs hold of your wrist staring up at you.

“I can change,” Geto said. “For you, I’ll change.”

As you sit on Geto's lap, you crease his check. He felt your warmth and for the first time in months, he felt safe again. He always loved that feeling when he was with you. Geto compared that feeling to a million things but the two he liked most were heaven and lilacs.

You say, "Always be the Geto I fell in love with."

It was all those fleeting memories of you and him that you held on to most tightly. Kept close to your heart on nights you shared a bed with Gojo. Everything about Geto was who you were. You taught him the things you liked and he taught you the things he liked, too.

You could do a flawless roundhouse kick because of Geto. He taught you how to defend yourself if he wasn't around. Because there were horrible people who wanted to hurt the only person he loved to torture him. They would want to see the mighty Suguru Geto fall to his knees.

“Every imperfection of you is what I love most, Geto. The times I had with you, I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. Even though I'm with him. My heart is always yours."

It's selfish to declare your heart belongs to your former lover, leaving Gojo with nothing.

Geto kisses the palm of your hand. “And my heart will always be yours.”

A/N: this was my first time writing an anime ff, and it was really fun. If you ever want to request anything, you can. I don't write smut tho sorry. As long as it's an angst romance, I got you!

#Geto x black fem reader #geto suguru #geto x y/n #geto x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #anime x black reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #black authors #jujutsu geto #jujustu kaisen fanfic

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manias-wordcount · 1 year

Text

The Sweetest Treat (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝟳 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝟭𝟮 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗙𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟮 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲!

𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁: 𝗗𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗦/𝗼.

𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀 𝗠𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗠𝗲 (𝗳𝘁. 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗲 𝗪𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿) 𝗯𝘆 𝗝𝗼𝗵𝗻 𝗟𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

The dull thud of approaching footsteps tells you that you’ll have a visitor soon. Despite this, you keep working. Your head stays down. Your fingers keep moving. You’re on a mission. A mission that no one will stop you from completing. A mission that no one will keep you from fulfilling. A mission that no one will distract you from.

“Well, well, well. What do we have- is that one me?!”

Not even him.

The thing he’s pointing at- the cookie he’s pointing at is most definitely him. You had pulled a freshly baked pan of gingerbread cookies from your oven not too long ago. And with just how good everything was starting to smell around you, you knew you had mere minutes to get to work. Especially with your boyfriend relaxing upstairs with nothing to distract him. So once you deemed that your cookies were perfect in every single way, you set off. Your bags of icing and your gumdrops and your candy balls and your every other type of decorating treat in the world are ready for you to use.

You chose to do him first. You figured it would be the best course of action considering just how likely it would be for him to ruin your surprise for himself just by getting a little too curious at the smell (and ignoring all the times you asked him to stay out of the kitchen while you were busy today). But luckily, you were able to get his cookie out in record time. A nice, neat little recreation of him that you managed to pull off from memory. A memory that served you very based on the way the little cookie on the pan greatly resembled your muse.

Still, you have a hard time containing your soft laughter at Gojo’s sudden exclamation, but you manage to keep working anyways. It was obvious from the get-go that you would be seeing him soon enough if you kept up the work that you were doing. So to say you were surprised to find your very powerful, very affectionate sorcerer boyfriend standing behind you and looking over your shoulder as he presses close to you and holds your hips would be a bold, bold, bold lie. A lie not worth even trying to tell. Besides, distraction or not…

…this does feel nice. A little too nice even.

“Mhm,” You finally confirm, only sparing him a quick smile and an even quicker glance before putting your head down to regain concentration. You don’t miss the way his eyes are trained onto the little gingerbread man that resembles him. Cute, right?”

It’s safe to say that despite this one being your first, having a clear image of how you wanted it to look like in your head rather than just the word “cute” made things a lot easier. And a lot more successful. With careful hands, you were able to replicate his haircut when without the bandana over his eyes using the royal icing. The exact same haircut that’s currently tickling the back of your neck whenever he moves in too close. The gingerbread's outfit wasn’t that special- it donned his typical dark clothing with the high collar. Though the colors really did match a bit better than you expected. And thankfully too. You did take an awful lot of time at the store trying to make sure everything was right…

But what you loved most of all were gingerbread Gojo’s eyes. Two brightly colored light blue jawbreakers fulfilled that role. They were so small in your hand yet so perfect to be the finishing touch. So, so, so perfect.

“Of course.” He agreed easily with your questions, and you could just feel the more than pleased smirk growing on his face. Though his attitude is more than contagious as you quickly found yourself swelling up with more than enough pride for two people as you look down at your hard work. Yet still so much to do….“Though I think he’s nothing like the real thing.”

At that, his grip on your body tightens. It only takes a small amount of his strength to pull your body away from the kitchen’s island counters that you were working on so he could slot himself instead. Almost immediately, you begin to protest the sudden moment. He is in the way of you completing your very, very, very important business after all. But then he looks at you- peering down at you through pure white lashes with those gorgeous bright blue eyes. And suddenly? You’re cracking. Then the corner of his lip quirks up, revealing just enough of a pearling white smile to get anyway hot under the collar. And suddenly? You’re crumbling. And then he raises an eyebrow and gestures to your now-neglected project with a jerk of his head and a warm chuckle. And suddenly?

You’re folding.

“Satoru.” You try to warn him with a stern voice, but it shakes underneath his heated gaze. It doesn’t take long for your expression to melt into an exasperated yet joyful smile as he feigns innocence. You were expecting something like this to happen too. Though as much as you tried to prepare yourself for it- as much as you tried to think of ways around it- you knew that you were up for something a little more than a challenge when it came to dealing with him of all people. “Satoru, move! I don’t want everything to set before I’m done!”

“Hmm…” He stops for a moment and pulls a thoughtful expression on his face for a second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four. And then finally, he turns his smile back towards you. “No.”

You let out a groan and rolled your eyes but all that earned you was an all too innocent-looking shrug from the man behind the problem itself. In hindsight, you probably should have tried to time things a little better. Knowing your boyfriend and all his little antics, that’s what all your friends suggested to you at the very least. If you found the time to work while he was away at work, maybe you wouldn’t be in this little predicament. If you were a little more proactive about your plans, you could have even pulled it off as a welcome home gift regarding the business trip he just returned from a couple of days ago. But it’s far too late to care or think about such things now that the kitchen is a mess of all different types of ingredients and the whole house smells just like gingerbread. Far, far, far too late.

But it could have been worse.

Way worse, you think to yourself as that smile you’ve been fighting off appears back on your face. And you’re right. This situation, this moment, this relationship? It all could have been so different. He could have came down earlier while you were still decorating his cookie. He could have told you that his cookie was ugly. That it was unrecognizable. That it looked nothing like him at all. He could have thought that the idea of baking and decorating cookies all by hand was a dumb idea. That it was a waste of time. Impractical even. So now, you can’t, but be happy. So, so, so happy. Because out of everything- you get to have him here. With you. Holding you. Complimenting you. Loving you. Cherishing you.

You get to have him here with you.

“Well…if you’re not going to move, then you have to finish the rest of them!”

“Wait, no-”

And isn’t that the sweetest treat of them all?

#jujutsu gojo #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen fanfiction #jujustu kaisen fanfic #x reader #xreader #fanfiction #fanfic

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exstasyplague · 8 months

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Phenibut Flowers | Jujutsu Kaisen FanFic

[female OC x Ryoumen Sukuna ]

" So violent and crude, your name is hummed on the rhythm of etudes. "

ㅡ in which Shimada Keiko slowly drifts away from the things around her.

This is a story about love. But it's not a love story.

What is 'phenibut'?

Usually sold under different brand names, it's central nervous system depressant used for treating insomnia, anxiety and a variety of other things.

What type of story is it?

Can be seen as tragic but I find it realistic. Whereas there are bright sides of the world there are also unpleasant sides. Especially in a world governed by Cursed Energy, the awareness about both is fundamental for writing a good story.

How do you view Ryoumen Sukuna?

Ruthless. The terrifying part about him is that he was once human yet his power put him on par with the highest peaks of the world, where normal feelings such as yours and mine don't apply. As a curse, his madness and brutality is what makes him be what he is, a vicious being capable of understanding the human soul well enough to crush it. I am not writing a story about him with the desire of changing him or offering him redeeming qualities. On a lonely peak, he is forever to be lonely, not even fully understood by the powerful ones.

Who is Shimada Keiko?

The original character of this story. I think the term I would use to describe her the best is decadence. She is the reflection of things that seem to timeless yet were the peak of a certain period in Japan at the end of the 20th century, when aftermaths of the wars were still felt by everybody. Loss of culture/identity, hedonism, abandonment, addictions, lack of stability. Don't worry, she is 100% human. I wouldn't say she is strong.

TW: depiction of mental illness, drug abuse, gore, some weird fantasies, depersonalisation, dubios consent, dubious morality, manic episodes, bdsm etc.

Available on AO3 here ; Wattpad here.

Last but not least, here is the cover for the book. :)

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fsvivi-9 · 2 months

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SENDAI: you dared to look at me despite everything / part one

Disclaimers: this isn't a reader x megumi fanfic, this is an fan made oc x megumi fanfic, past relationships, aged up megumi, takes place now, high tension, high tension

Summary: past lovers, Megumi Fushiguro and Cherry E are forced onto a mission in a remote village in Sendai.

Cherry chewed her lip. Her eyes wanted to look at Megumi, but she couldn't. It had been what, ten months, since they spoken to each other, and the last time they spoken with each other, Cherry was bawling, and Megumi was just staring at her reddish face. Right after he had broken up with her, there wasn't any explanation, just a ‘I wanna break up.’ Megumi was supposedly in love her since they had attended Jujustu High—two years since they graduated, now four years. That is what he had told her under the sakura trees.

Megumi looked just as aloof as he did when they were first grade sorcerers in Jujustu High. His green eyes locked outside the window, taking in the amount of sakura trees senbonzakura had. Sendai was really pretty, just like Yuji had said. His brown eyes gleaming when Cherry mentioned her mission would be in Sendai. He started talking on about how pretty Sendai was. Cherry was regretting a bit for not taking her camera that Gojo-sensei—her former teacher at jujustu High—had given her. Gojo-sensei was also the annoying bum who had sent her on this mission with her own ex boyfriend, Megumi Fushiguro. He swore on the pack of mochi he bought that it wasn't intentional, Gojo-sensei said he chose Cherry E. and Megumi Fushiguro based on their curse grade—grade 2, while for Cherry it was grade 3.

The mission they were put on was for a remote village in Sendai infested with about eighty cursed spirits.

There was a definite answer that probably the majority of the small population of the village was dead. Maybe a few—five to fifteen—people of the village were alive. Gojo-sensei had said that the population before the infection was about forty five. But for some odd reason, the infestation of the village wouldn't spread to near villages despite the cursed spirits’ starting in early 2022 Cherry went with the idea that there was probably a veil in the village.

“Sendai's very beautiful. You two chose to spend your honeymoon somewhere nice.” The driver comments. Cherry and Megumi were barely 22, and they were getting marriage comments. She curses under her breath, they should've just let postponed for the mission to be set in mid 2023. The infection has been in the village for almost a year. But then, the veil or whatever made the infection stay in that village could break. Cherry cursed herself for being so selfish.

Megumi laughs sheepishly, breaking his stare outside the window and towards the shabby driver, “we aren't married. We just need to go somewhere for business purposes.” It felt less for business for Cherry, more of a duty she needed to do with being ‘blessed’ with the Shadow Curse Technique. Megumi, it had been about seven years since he had told her his reason why he became a Jujustu Soreccer. Maybe his reasoning had change. It had been seven years.

Cherry adds onto Megumi's statement, “yeah. We heard in Sendai is where the prettiest beaches are.”

What a total liar. Was my only trait just lying and lying. I lied to myself, and told myself I just liked Megumi as a friend. It was March, hardly any good time to go the beach.

The driver laughs at the two. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. It’s just, what your wearing. Its something similar my wife wore during our honeymoon, when we went to Tokyo,” he tells Cherry. Megumi’s eyes glance over to Cherry, looking at her outfit—the Jujustu High uniform, just slightly more tailored to her liking, with a longer skirt and more tactical for fighting with cursed spirits, and other sorcerers.

Cherry took that with offense—basically everything any one would say to her, she'd take with offense. More with males than with girls. Maybe it was way of protecting herself besides with Jujustu. Cherry picks on her lips and she lets a fake laugh, “wow, your wife must have incredible taste.”

Megumi joins in, “Yeah. Amazing taste.” It makes Cherry gasps a little. Megumi was always really stoic, even during when they had dated, he was mostly always static. It was also the first time they talked besides the mission, and normally. That typical, natural bored expression plastered on his face all the time. Even the childhood pictures she'd get, his face was always that frowning, but not smiling face. It was a little funny when thinking about it, for someone whos hair is like a sea urchin, he had the face of a blank white board, just blank.

“Thank you too, you guys are really nice!” The driver exclaims, oblivious to their sarcastic comments.

The rest of the car ride to Sendai was pretty chill. There was little small talk between Cherry and the driver. The awkward tension between Cherry and Megumi was still as thick, thicker in the lump in Cherry's throat. She wanted to say something to Megumi. Ask him why he broke up with her. Just scream at him. But that'd be childish, wouldn't it? They were bright adults. Not the hormonal teenagers they were at Jujustu High. By the time the driver had driven them to Sendai, the sky was orange and the sun was setting.

“Me– Fushiguro, lets try to find some survivors,” cherry starts. Megumi felt his heart itch, a burn more. Did the nine months make Cherry and him strangers? Couldn't they go back to friends? That was a stupid thought. Megumi was the one who broke up with her, Cherry E. not the other way around.

Megumi bites his lip, “no. We shouldn't try. There's no use trying.”

Cherry's head looks at him, puzzled completely. “Fushiguro, you aren't being serious.” She stares at his eyes, desperately trying to find some type of clue that could tell her that Megumi was joking. But there wasn't any. “These are real people we are talking about. We shouldn't just skip not checking!”

“No. Even if there was people alive, their probably just hiding from the cursed spirits. We will waste time if we search.” Megumi retorts, staring at Cherry coldly.

“But—” Cherry retorts, a thick lump forms in her throat. She bites her lip and mutters an okay to Megumi.

Megumi and Cherry walk towards the small village’s center. It wasn't a long walk, the village was small. Moss had taken over most of the village, and no real human signs of life was there. But something felt off. These were meant to be somewhat strong spirits, but it felt like there was no cursed energy. Cherry couldn't feel anything. It was suspicious.

Cherry clicks her tongues, “Fushiguro.”

Megumi’s head jerks over to look at her. Cherry’s face was serious, dead pan on something. She was smiling always so it felt odd to see her like that.

“it feels like there's no, no cursed energy here.”

Megumi thinks for a slight moment, “maybe you just got stronger. You are an amazing soreccer."

Cherry laughs at his comment quietly and sheepishly. But her heart felt itchy for an odd reason. Like an odd banging, like the strings of her huge heart were trying to escape or something. She bites her lip. I thought he hated me? Why would he say that? No, wait. He's just knows I'm an okay soreccer. “Yeah, yeah Megumi. There's no way I can get stronger in ten months.” She says with an another laugh.

His green eyes stare at her face in disbelief. “You are amazing. Let's just look for cursed spirits.”

She laughs, twirling a strand of her silk like hair. Cherry scans the village. Megumi taps his foot, doing the same and scanning around the village. There was nothing. The two couldn't feel any cursed energy despite Gojo-sensei claiming that there an infestion and the cursed spirits being grade two spirits. It was odd to say the least. It just looked abandoned. There was no hints it was infested with spirits.

“I think gojo-sensei is a liar.”

Megumi jerks, “what?”

“You heard me, boy. I think Gojo-sensei is a liar. There's nothing in sight, didn't even feel when we were going here.”

He rubs his nape. “But, Cherry. You realise this Gojo who your talking about?”

“Just because he's the strongest jujustu sorcerer doesn't mean he can be wrong,” she adds. Cherry swings her sword in the air before taking a seat.

“It just feels like…” she trails off, sucking on her lips. No, you can't just say it. Then everything you and Megumi will be gone, even if it's little, what if he finds it weird. Not once did Megumi ever find Cherry weird. In fact, he thought she was super cool. That's what caused his ‘little’ crush on her. Megumi thought the way she would skate around the block was really cool. Everything about her was cool. Cherry would disagree. She was just a girl. A pathetic one at that

Megumi takes a moment to process her words. He doesn't reply, but instead joins her. He sits awkwardly away from her. Too far. But they were broken up. Of course he wouldn't sit so close. Cherry's heart felt as if it was gonna break. There was banging her head. It made her dizzy, and before she knew it, she fell asleep. Megumi blinks, and tucks a hair behind her light hair.

“You're really silly, y'know that?”

#jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fanfic #jjk #jjk fanfic #megumi fushiguro #fan made oc #megumi fushiguro fanfic #fanfic #writing #fsvivi-9's work

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pinknightsinmymind · 2 years

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【 pride, love, and joy : chapter five 】

nanami kento x reader

wc: 5.7k

masterlist link: here

summary: Mr. Nanami and [Y/N]'s argument comes to head, and [Y/N] learns more about him that helps her to understand him more. The two agree to have a truce of sorts, which leads her to visit him at his manor at the same time a storm happens to occur.

author's note: wow this one is a long one! ik! but there was a lot to cover for plot reasons👀 also! a little context thing! in the regency era to touch a woman's bare skin was VERY scandalous. that included hands as well which is why many women wore gloves during this time. so let's keep that in mind for this chapter 👀 also you didn't hear it from me but some juicy secrets will be reveled next chapter.

← chapter four + chapter six →

“How dare you?” [Y/N] asked. “How dare you make assumptions about something you know nothing about?”

“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” he asked.

“I am, because you are. You want the truth? I never wanted to marry Mr. Gojo. I only did it because my father asked me to and I didn’t want to disappoint him. I’m the oldest daughter and my sisters can’t get married until I do. I am a woman who was raised from a young age knowing I’d have to get married one day. What other choice do I have?”

Mr. Nanami stood in silence for a moment, then spoke. “If you’re not in love with Mr. Gojo, why are you so hurt?”

“Because I don’t want to lose my best friend,” she answered. “I grew up with him, we told each other everything, and suddenly, for something as serious as marriage, he decides he can’t talk to me anymore. He could have objected to the arrangement, but he went through with it anyway. Then he said nothing to me and ran away. When we were kids he would run away from things like chores and jobs his father wanted him to do because they were responsibilities he didn’t want. And now he runs away from me, like I am one of those responsibilities.”

“But you still love him,” Mr. Nanami said.

“As a friend.”

“And I am still a burden and inconvenience.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what am I to you?” he asked. [Y/N] felt confused. Did he want to be something to her? Did he want a true engagement between the two of them?

“Someone I am trying to get to know, but you don’t make it easy. You are standoff-ish, reserved, stern, serious, hard to get along with. There are hidden meanings in every word you say. I can never tell if you’re being backhanded or not.”

“Not intentionally,” he said.

“It would do you some good to lighten up. Maybe then I’d be able to get along with you.”

“I’m not good with people,” was all he said. Awkward, heavy silence filled the room.

“That’s very obvious,” [Y/N] joked. He said nothing as his face stayed still, until she smiled at him. It rippled across his face quickly, like a sense of ease and assuredness.

“All I’m good at is writing and reading. That's all I understand. There are formulas, constants, the ability to see and know everything. People are always changing. I never know what someone is thinking from one minute to the next, but in a book you can. I speak well, but only in the sense that I know how to sound smart. Beyond that I don’t know how to speak with people and let them know what I truly feel.”

“I see,” [Y/N] said quietly. It explained why the things he said were always so formal, so matter-of-fact. “You do often say things that sound rude.”

“But I don’t mean them that way. It just comes across like that. If you truly knew me, you’d be able to see that. You’d understand what I truly mean, what I think, what I really want to say.”

“Is that what you want?” she asked. “For me to know you?”

He stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke. “I would. I’m tired of being misunderstood.”

“Then if you’d work with me to make things easier, I can try.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“You also need to stop making assumptions. You should ask instead of assuming.”

“Of course.” He nodded his head like he was seriously considering her words.

“Is that all you want to ask me?” she asked.

“Yes. I think I understand your relationship to Mr. Gojo better.”

“Good. Now can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you dislike Mr. Suguru so much?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you serious?” [Y/N] asked. “I answered your questions honestly, and you can’t even do the same? I can’t know you or understand you if you don’t talk about yourself.”

“It involves a lot of painful memories. I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“But you’re not a burden. I want to know.”

Mr. Nanami sighed. “When I was younger, my family passed away around the same time Mr. Suguru’s did. They died in a flood because our old family manor was close to the sea. There was a great storm and the water took everything with it, including my family. No one survived. I wasn’t there because I was away for schooling and working on a project.”

“Like Mr. Suguru,” [Y/N] muttered.

“Yes, like Mr. Suguru, but not quite.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone pitied Mr. Suguru, but not me. Do you know what people said about my family’s passing? They said that they deserved it. They said my father was a wicked man and that his evil spread to the rest of my family. And you know what they said the flood was? Biblical. They said God sent it to cleanse their evil from the world, and the fact that I survived meant I wasn’t like them.”

“But why would they say such things? What did your father do that was so wrong?”

“My father wasn’t Anglican, and he spoke openly about it to his friends who told their wives who told other women in the community. From then on everyone despised him. So while everyone pitied Mr. Suguru and the tragic passing of his family, everyone called mine a cleanse and considered it a celebration.”

“Oh,” [Y/N] said, the word sounding almost like a breath. “I think that’s unfair, but the community did that to you, not Mr. Suguru.”

“I know, but he’s a reminder of what happened. It makes me an immature man, maybe even a bad one, but I can’t let it go. It’s too painful. My mother didn’t deserve to die like that. No one in my family deserved to have their death called a cleanse in the community, and that is a grudge I will hold forever.”

“Even though I consider Mr. Suguru a friend, I understand your feelings, and I won’t ask you to change them. Maybe one day you will on your own, who can say, but it’s not my place.”

“Thank you for understanding.” Mr. Nanami’s eyes didn’t look as harsh or alert as they usually did for once. Instead they looked soft, and a little tired.

“I have one more question.”

“Yes?”

“If you were the only one who survived, how is Mr. Itadori your brother? I remember Mr. Fushiguro mentioned that you and him had similar circumstances.”

“When Mr. Itadori’s grandfather heard about the tragedy he took me in. He continued to pay for my schooling and took care of me like a son since his own had passed years before when Mr. Itadori was an infant. When he passed away he left his estate to me because Mr. Itadori was only fourteen and couldn’t take care of it on his own. He also trusted that I would take care of Yuji and the estate.”

“So this manor belongs to the Itadori family, then?” [Y/N] asked.

“Yes, because I was adopted into the Itadori family and inherited it. The Nanami family manor was completely destroyed in the flood, so this one has been my home for many years. Mr. Itadori is the one who’s blood related to Mr. Gojo, but that didn’t stop the Gojo family from treating me like a part of the family.”

“I understand now,” [Y/N] said. “You’ve been through… a lot. I’m sorry to hear about your hardships.”

“It’s okay. I’m doing much better now than I was then.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” [Y/N] fidgeted with her hands. It was starting to weigh on her how long she and Mr. Nanami had been away from the rest of the party. “I think we should get headed back.”

“Oh,” Mr. Nanami said. “You’re right. I can’t let your reputation be ruined.”

“No, we can’t have that, “ [Y/N] said. “So will you offer me your arm like a gentleman or must I walk alone?”

“I’d prefer to be a gentleman,” he said, and looped his arm through hers. “Miss, if I may…”

“What is it?”

“If sometime soon you would like to visit my estate for lunch or anything similar, Mr. Itadori and I would be happy to receive you.”

“Really?” she asked. “You want me to visit again?”

“I would,” he said. “I’d give you a proper tour of the residence this time, and there would be no fighting.”

“I’d like that. How about in three days’ time? I feel like anything before that would be too soon.”

“Of course. Whatever works for you, Miss [L/N].”

[Y/N] smiled. “I appreciate that.”

+ + +

Mr. and Mrs. [L/N] were shocked to hear that Mr. Nanami had invited their daughter to his manor, and they were even more shocked to hear that their daughter wanted to attend. They could clearly remember how adamantly she had protested the (mind you) fake engagement, and now she wished to be in the man’s presence? They were curious about the sudden change of heart, but said nothing. Instead, they allowed her to borrow the family carriage and visit Mr. Nanami. If all went well maybe the fake engagement would result in a real marriage after all. Nobara was even more shocked, to say the least. She wondered for a moment if maybe her sister fell and hit her head, but decided not to say anything. She was too busy taking care of her prized horse, Bernard, anyways, so it was none of her business. They all wished [Y/N] a safe trip as she hauled herself into the carriage, not daring to say another word in case they’d ruin the girl’s unusually great mood.

[Y/N] would admit she was a tiny bit uncharacteristically upbeat today, but she ignored that fact to avoid any questioning from her family. So far they had said nothing, and she hoped to keep it that way. The sway and buckle of the carriage was not unfamiliar to her, but the fast beating of her heart was. She was unsure why she was so nervous to return back to the manor when she had been there before, but she tried her best to calm herself. Looking outside the carriage windows she watched the sun as it moved between tree branches that swayed in the wind. Such a beautiful world, and [Y/N] felt drowsiness overtake her, dragging her down with the sway of the carriage.

+ + +

[Y/N] felt the carriage come to a stop even in her drowsy state. She opened her eyes and felt the carriage door open. Mr. Lawrence, the man who always drove her family’s carriage even when she was a young child, stood outside the door with a smile on his face.

“Thank you, sir,” [Y/N] said as he grabbed her gloved hand to help her out of the carriage.

“You’re quite the young lady now,” he said. “Off to see your fiancé and his family.”

She smiled at him despite the fact he was believing a lie. “It seems that way, doesn’t it?” she asked.

“I remember when you were so little,” he said. “Well, good luck. I’m sure Mr. Nanami is waiting for you inside.”

“Of course.” Mr. Lawrence walked beside her to the door. “What will you be doing in the meantime?” she asked.

“Feeding the horses, checking their hooves, things like that.”

“I see.”

“But don’t worry about that. Focus on this.” The man tapped her hands warmly before letting go and walking back to the horses that waited for him. She took a deep breath before slamming the door knocker down onto the wooden door. She had been here before, so why did it feel so different? Why was she more nervous than before? It took a second, but the door finally opened, and [Y/N] saw Mr. Itadori present. She hadn’t expected him, but she greeted him nonetheless.

“Miss [L/N]! You’re here!” Mr. Itadori said excitedly.

“I am!” she answered. The boy moved to the side to let her in before shutting the door. The manor looked so different now that it was empty without all the dancing people from before. She could finally see the flooring was white with triangular designs, every other one colored brown. The sun shone through the large windows so brightly. Mr. Itadori led her through the foyer and down the hall into the main hall. She could finally see that in the main hall the windows were large, almost the same height as a tall man, and from them you could see the beautiful lake and nature outside. “How are you today, Mr. Itadori?”

“I’m well. And you, Miss?”

“I am also well.”

“Let me take you to the living den. Kento should be there,” Mr. Itadori said while leading the way. A sudden anxiousness entered [Y/N]’s bloodstream as she felt her heart quicken with haste. It’s not that Mr. Nanami made her nervous—No, it couldn’t be, not him, she said to herself—but the fact she was here alone. The implications. That’s all it was. Her engagement was not real, but here she was in his home where everything was very real. The beautiful flooring, the pale walls, the eager sun coming in through the windows. Mr. Itadori led her through the main hall and through a door that led to the living den. She was here, to see him, and that sent her heart skittering. Mr. Itadori opened the door and she saw Mr. Nanami seated in a comfy seat with his back to them. He was so still and quiet it was unnerving, in a way. He had surely heard the door open, but still he made no move.

“Kento, Miss [L/N] is here,” Mr. Itadori announced. At last the man stood up and despite his tall stature something in his shoulders hung loosely in contrast to how rigid he usually stood. The man turned around, and although there was no expression on his face, it wasn’t in a mean way, but more so in a clueless and lost way.

“Miss [L/N],” he said finally, “I see you’ve finally arrived.”

“I have.” Silence hung in the air.

“H-how was your return back to the manor after the ball?” Mr. Nanami held his hands tightly together. Mr. Itadori stared at his brother who suddenly seemed like a stranger before him. Did his so self-assured brother just fumble over his words?

“It was as it usually is. Thankfully there was no rain.”

“Of course.” Mr. Nanami gripped his hands tighter. He was not the type to fumble or play with his hands nervously, which is why he chose to stick onto holding them in a vice-like grip. The silence was heavy. No one wanted to say anything as the fake couple stared at each other, which is why Mr. Itadori chose to speak up.

“Brother, weren’t you going to give Miss [L/N] a tour of the manor today?”

“Yes,” he said hurriedly. “I was.” Mr. Nanami cleared his throat. “Miss, if you’ll follow me I can show you around.”

“Of course.” [Y/N] followed Mr. Nanami as he began to walk quickly out the door without a word. Definitely out of character for him. What happened to the man who always had something to say? [Y/N] walked as quickly as she could to catch up to the man and walk at his pace. “What will you be showing me first?”

“Well, my favorite part of the manor. The nature outside.” Mr. Nanami led her to the main hall again and opened the double doors settled between two bright windows. When he opened the doors and stepped outside she could feel a cool breeze hit her skin. April was always a good month for weather. Not too hot, not too cold, just right. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but it seemed brighter today. The various trees that lined the property swayed steadily in the wind as if they were moving along to an unheard rhythm. The breeze they provided was a cool one that glided across her skin.

“What is so special about the nature you wanted to show me?”

“Well, the lake, of course,” he answered, like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Is this really a lake? Not some pond?”

“No, it’s a lake.” Mr. Nanami led her to the edge of the lake where the green grass turned to gravel and dirt and the vast lake began to flow for miles in the distance. [Y/N] held onto the skirts of her dress to make sure no fabric got caught or torn. “I was a bit nervous to live in a manor by a lake at first, but eventually I moved past it.”

“I imagine.” [Y/N] stared into the dark water and watched how the sun’s reflection rippled with the moving currents. The sun was high in the sky, meaning it was about noon by this time. A large mass of grey clouds in the distance moved slowly. “How’d you get past it?”

“I’d come out here to read or write and I’d stare into the water for hours. Sometimes I’d talk to it. I’d think about my parents a lot, our old home, my memories, all that.”

“Really? Talk to the water?”

“It sounds crazy, but it’s actually quite calming. Water moves and changes like a person. It’s so vital to human existence that we wouldn’t be here without it. Maybe it’s as close to a god as we’ll ever have. Nothing is forever, but nature is a constant unlike anything else we know. That’s why I love the nature here at the Itadori manor. If I ever build myself another manor, I’d rebuild my family’s old one and live by the ocean again, but with better protection for floods, of course.”

“You have such a unique way of thinking,” [Y/N] commented. She had meant it sincerely, but Mr. Nanami had a puzzled look on his face.

“And what is that supposed to mean, Miss?” he asked.

“I’m being honest! You have a unique way of thinking. It’s different, but it makes sense and it suits you. It was a compliment.”

“Well, thank you, then.” He stayed silent as he stared out into the water. “Those clouds look quite ugly. I think it’s going to storm. You’re free to stay if you need to.”

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary. I actually plan to leave later this evening, so it might not even be storming by then.”

“Of course,” he said politely. “Whatever works best for you.”

“Who knew you were such a thoughtful man?”

“Quiet people think a lot, don’t they?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“Regardless, it’s about lunch time. We can have it in the manor’s library, if you’d like.”

“Would you recommend it?”

“I would. I think you’d love it.”

+ + +

Rows and rows of books everywhere. That was the first thing [Y/N] saw when she opened the doors to the manor’s library. The shelves seemed to go on forever and were taller than Mr. Nanami, who was already an incredibly tall man. The walls were even covered in shelves in addition to the large, double-sided shelves that stood proudly in rows. There were two large, wooden desks, but [Y/N] and Mr. Nanami occupied only one with their lunch.

“I told you you’d like it.”

“Don’t act so smug. I just like books,” [Y/N] retorted.

“I know. You even starve for them.”

“Whatever.” [Y/N]’s hands trailed over the spines of the countless books as she looked through the shelf closest to them. How long did it take Mr. Itadori’s grandfather to collect all these? Had Mr. Nanami read any of them? “How many of these have you read?”

“A lot, but definitely not all of them. It’d take a whole lifetime to do that.”

“I bet.” There were so many different books here. Gardening, cooking, old historical accounts, poetry, novels, philosophy, prose, math, science, religious texts, anything you could imagine. There were even books from American authors here as well. It was mesmerizing. “If I lived here I’d never leave this room.”

“Who would?” Mr. Nanami asked rhetorically.

“You're right. So much knowledge to be found, who would want to leave?”

“Have you lost your appetite now?” he asked.

“No, I’ll eat in a minute. For now, I’m on the hunt.” [Y/N] could’ve sworn she heard a small laugh come from the man. She had never heard him laugh before and had only ever seen him scowl. Who knew that she’d go from arguing with the man at every notice to laughing with him at his manor?

“Fine. I’ll enjoy this meal all by myself.”

“Are you talking about that chicken you’re hogging?”

“I am. But by all means eat the pages off those books since you insist on being a bookworm.”

“Are you hurt I’m not eating with you? Is that it?” [Y/N] asked, seeing through his antics. She still didn’t turn to look at him as she browsed through the countless books. The illumination from the windows was slightly dimming as more large clouds gathered in front of the sun.

“Yes,” he answered honestly. [Y/N] rolled her eyes.

“Of course. I’ll join you in just a second.” Finally, her searching was over. She found a book that was a poetry compilation. She planned to read through it briefly over lunch. [Y/N] took her seat across from Mr. Nanami as she took a piece of bread. She could hardly see him as the light in the manor dimmed more and more. The light patter of rain could be heard on the roof as the storm begun. She couldn’t make out his features, but she saw him reach up and adjust his glasses.

“Found something you like?” he asked.

“Yes, a poetry book.” Mr. Nanami glanced down at the book on the table and narrowed his eyes. He could never quite see well in dim lighting.

“I don’t think I’ve read that one before. Tell me if you like it when you’re done.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll have time to finish it,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, I’m leaving later today,” she explained. “I don’t think that’s enough time to finish it, sir.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Nanami huffed. “You can keep it. Give it back to me some other time. Maybe the next time you visit if you choose to.” A harsh wind blew outside. It almost sounded like wailing.

“Are you saying you want me to visit again?” [Y/N] looked him dead in the eyes. The least he could do was own up to his wishes.

“Only if you’d like to.” There was no joking or ill-intent in his face. He seemed serious, but that's because he was being sincere.

“Since you seem to like being a host, I will visit again. That, and so I can return the book.”

He smiled at that. “I’m glad we could agree. Now finish eating. We can wait the storm out so you can go home once it passes.”

“That works for me.”

+ + +

It took more than an hour for the storm to pass. However, [Y/N] didn't leave as soon as it did. She spent most of the time exploring the manor with Mr. Nanami as her guide, and Mr. Itadori joined eventually, too. They spent their time like that: walking around, sharing stories, drinking tea. Mr. Itadori even showed off his skills on the piano, which had been a surprise to her. It was late afternoon now, and [Y/N] knew she would need to head home soon. Once she explained she must return home the two men were understanding and soon [Y/N] was returning to her carriage where Mr. Lawrence waited.

“How was your stay, Miss?” Mr. Lawrence asked.

“I had a good time, but I am tired. I’m ready to head home.”

“Of course. The roads should be dried up by now, so we can get going.”

“Thank you. I’ll head in the carriage.” [Y/N] was about to open the carriage door when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Mr. Nanami and his brother.

“I hope you visit again sometime soon!” Mr. Itadori cheered. He had a huge grin on his face, and [Y/N] began to smile too. The kid’s energy was so contagious.

“I will visit again soon, don’t worry,” [Y/N] said to him.

Mr. Nanami opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. “Miss, I hope you enjoyed your stay, even if it was only a few hours.”

“I did. Thank you for having me.”

“Anytime.” [Y/N] curtsied and Mr. Nanami bowed to her. As she moved to enter the carriage, Mr. Nanami grabbed her hand without warning. He helped her step into the carriage before letting go as quickly as he had latched onto her. He shut the door gently and when she looked outside she saw Mr. Itadori and Mr. Nanami both walking back inside their manor as the sun set in the distance.

[Y/N] stared at her hand. Did Mr. Nanami know what he had just done? He saw she had no gloves on, but yet he still chose to help her get in her carriage? She had taken them off because she was leaving the manor and would no longer need them. She hadn’t expected for either man to send her off beyond a small goodbye. The carriage began moving and bustled side to side as she continued to stare at her hand. That was the first time Mr. Nanami had ever touched her bare skin. As the carriage ride continued [Y/N] sat in shock. He had actually touched her, and it’s not that she minded. In a sense, she wanted him to do it again, which was just as shocking.

The carriage ride had begun quietly while [Y/N]’s thoughts raged in her head. Mr. Nanami was such a confusing man. She didn’t understand him or what he wanted. The engagement was a fake one so why was he so… so endearing? A crack of thunder sounded loudly and snapped her out of her thoughts. More thunder rattled loudly, and once more [Y/N] could hear the pattering of rain on the roof of the carriage. This was bad. If the roads got muddy the carriage would get stuck, and [Y/N] knew that she and Mr. Lawrence couldn’t be stranded in the rain like this. [Y/N] held onto a small piece of faith. Maybe it wasn’t raining too bad. Maybe there were other paths Mr. Lawrence could take. She could make it home.

The rain began to pick up as more thunder and lightning flashed across the sky. The carriage jolted and came to a sudden stop. This wasn’t good at all. [Y/N] could hear the horses neighing outside as the rain beat against the roof harder. Poor Mr. Lawrence was probably soaked already. [Y/N] threw open the door of the carriage and jumped out of it. The sun had barely set, but it was dark out now that the rain clouds had taken over the sky. The cold rain immediately drenched her hair and clothes as she walked to Mr. Lawrence.

“Are we stuck, sir?” she asked. He nodded solemnly. When she glanced back she saw how the front and rear wheels were stuck deeply in the mud. “What are we going to do?”

“Either we could stay in the carriage and wait it out, or we can go back.”

“Go back?”

“To Mr. Nanami’s manor. This is a bad storm. I’m sure you can return home tomorrow morning once it’s over.”

“And my parents? Won’t they think it strange?”

“I’m sure it’s storming at your property as well, Miss, don’t worry,” he said.

“Okay,” [Y/N] agreed. “We’ll do that.”

“We’ll take the horses. I can’t leave them here. I’ll help you onto one.”

“Thank you, sir,” [Y/N] said. She followed Mr. Lawrence to the horses as he began undoing their ties to the carriage. There were more than she ever knew, and she could see now why it took so long to get a carriage ready, especially since there were two horses to worry about. It took Mr. Lawrence a while to undo everything but the horses’ reins, all the while [Y/N] paced back and forth. She could’ve waited in the carriage, but she didn’t want to get the interior wet and she couldn’t bear to leave Mr. Lawrence alone in the storm.

“They’re ready. Now, they don’t have any saddles, but you can still ride them. It might be a little difficult, but you can do it.”

“Yes, I can.” Mr. Lawrence give her a small boost to get on the horse and [Y/N] grabbed onto the reins. She knew the ride was going to be bumpy and uncomfortable without a saddle, but she’d have to get through it.

“Are you ready, Miss? Just follow me.”

“Okay.” Mr. Lawrence took off at a steady pace, and she followed behind swiftly. At first she wasn’t sure how to steer the horse exactly, but she eventually figured out that keeping a steady grip on the reins helped keep it on track. The rain pelted against her skin with force, oftentimes hurting when the wind whipped across her body and threw the rain in her face. Her clothes were soaked and she could feel the layers hanging onto her heavily. Her hair was completely soaked and rivulets of water ran down her face. Every so often she had to wipe some out of her eyes. It didn’t help that the horse’s gallop was strong and shook her at times. Riding without a saddle was a bit uncomfortable, but she’d have to get over it in order to make it to the manor. She was sure she looked crazy with her skirts hiked up around her hips, but she did what was needed in order to ride the horse.

Finally, like a beacon of light in the darkness, [Y/N] and Mr. Lawrence finally made it back to Mr. Nanami’s manor. It may have been incredibly dark, but [Y/N] could still make out the shape of the large house. They dismounted their horses, and although the jump down jolted through [Y/N]’s body at first, she quickly recovered.

“I’ll tend to the horses, please knock on the door, Miss.”

“Of course.” [Y/N] did as Mr. Lawrence said. It was the least she could do after he helped her through the storm. She quickly ran to the front door of the home and knocked on it as hard as she could.

“Mr. Nanami! Mr. Itadori! Please! Open up!” She kept knocking on the door, hoping someone would come soon. Hopefully she’d be loud enough to wake one of them up. “Please!” A loud crackle of thunder interrupted her pleas and drowned her out. If it kept storming like this no one would hear her. She kept slamming the knocker on the door before eventually slamming her fist against the harsh wood.

“Any luck?” Mr. Lawrence asked, appearing out of nowhere. He must’ve taken the horses to the property’s stables.

“None. They might not be able to hear through the storm.”

“A shame. We might just have to wait it through.”

[Y/N] couldn’t give up so easily. She began knocking on the door again. “Mr. Itadori! Mr. Nanami! Please! Mr. Lawrence and I are stuck in the storm! Please help us!” She sucked in a breath before letting it go slowly. This was getting frustrating. “Please! Let us in!” Nothing. “Mr. Nanami! Wake up! Someone!”

The door slammed open and [Y/N] saw Mr. Nanami at the door. It was too dark to see his features, but a flash of lightning allowed her to see he was not wearing glasses and dressed for bed.

“[Y/N]! What happened?” he asked. Without another word he opened the door wider and let her in.

“Our carriage got stuck in the storm. We had no choice but to come back.”

“Did you walk all the way here? Yuji! Please get some linens and fresh clothes!” [Y/N] turned to see Mr. Itadori had awakened as he was standing in the distance. He ran off as soon as Mr. Nanami asked him to.

“No, we rode our horses, sir. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve put them away in the manor’s stables,” Mr. Lawrence explained.

“Not at all. It’s a storm. Do what you need to do,” Mr. Nanami explained. Mr. Itadori returned with linens and fresh clothes for both [Y/N] and Mr. Lawrence and handed them out. [Y/N] dried her face off and moved on to her neck then her hair. She was soaked through and through and would need to head to a different room to change and dry off fully.

“I’ll lead you two to your rooms for the night. Please follow me,” Mr. Nanami said. He began walking and traveled up the stairs close to the main hall and led Mr. Lawrence to a room close to his office. He then led her to the other side of the manor to take [Y/N] to her quarters for the night.

“Thank you for letting us stay, Mr. Nanami. I know it’s rather… indecent,” [Y/N] said, for lack of a better word, “but the storm outside is horrible.”

“Don’t worry. You can return home in the morning.”

“I know, but this whole ordeal has me on guard. It was raining very hard.”

“I’m sure. It was quite difficult to hear you when you were at the door.” Mr. Nanami paused and surveyed [Y/N] and saw how soaked in water she was. She was trailing water everywhere in his home, but he could always clean it up later.

“Well, I will take my leave for the night, sir. Thank you again.”

“Please get some rest. Good night.”

“Good night,” [Y/N] replied and retreated into the warm, dry room.

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