#kento nanami x reader romance

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me 😭 and by beta read i mean left the funniest fucking comments everywhere and i will forever remember how hard i laughed 🤣 i adore u sm thank you <33 SHES ALSO A WRITER TOO GO CHECK HER OUT on ao3 she is an amazinggg writer there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

--

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #geto suguru #gojo satoru angst #nanami kento #choso kamo #series #yaga masamichi #alternate universe #college #college au #soccer #sports au #fraternity #sorority #tw drinking #partying #anime #romance #smut #fluff #angst #jjk smut #long fic #jjk series #ongoing series

[daisynik7]

Your coworker Nanami absolutely pines for you.  

You have no clue that his heart beats thrice as fast whenever he’s around you. He’s surprised you haven’t heard it yet, especially during the moments when you get so close, you’re almost touching. That’s when he loses it the most. And it’s not just the proximity of your bodies. It’s whatever lotion or perfume you’re wearing that sends him into a frenzy, maybe even the natural scent of you. To him, it’s the sweetest thing. Sometimes, you’ll graze hands when you hand him a document, and his skin tingles the remainder of the day. To you, it may be nothing; to him, it’s a spark that ignites his very being, electrifies his nerves, synapses firing into his brain, imagining all the ways he can get close to you again. 

Nanami always takes his lunch the same time as you do. He loves talking to you in the break room, whether it be about the latest hobby you’ve taken up, new shows you’re watching, venting about a certain coworker that annoys the both of you. His crush on you grows stronger when you start bringing him little treats every so often. A croissant you picked up in the morning at the café. Little chocolates you bought for yourself, thinking that he would like a taste too. A new pasta recipe you want him to try because you know how good of a cook he is, and his opinion really matters to you. 

You have no idea how much you mean to him. He only likes going to work because of you. 

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami fluff #nanami drabbles #nanami x reader #nanami x you #still thinking about writing this office romance series

[darknight3904]

Through the Years

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ᴀ ɢʟɪᴍᴘꜱᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ/ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪʀɢɪɴɪᴛʏ (ɴᴏ ꜱᴇx) ɴᴀᴏʏᴀ ᴢᴇɴɪɴ (ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ɢʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ)

ɪ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ɪɴ ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʙᴀʙʏ. ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴢᴇɴɪɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ᴏᴠᴇʀ 5ᴋ (ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍʏ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴇʏᴇᴅ ᴋɪɴɢ)

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

December 7, 2005 (Gojo: 16 You: 15)

"You know you're practically a senior citizen now."

Gojo's head whips around, insulted at the idea of being called old. Sure he's got white hair but he's just turned 16, not 61.

"You're only a year younger than me, y'know. You'll be 16 soon too." He grins

Gojo grins as you roll your eyes next to him.

"At least I don't have white hair already." You point out

"Whatever, at least I'm not two inches tall." Gojo laughs, resting an elbow on your head.

"I'm still growing!" You defend, angry at the idea of staying the same height forever. "Get your ugly arm off me!"

"I'll have you know my arm is gorgeous," Gojo says, blue eyes catching the sunlight as he easily matches your pace.

"Mmhmm." You roll your eyes

To keep it simple, Satoru Gojo got under your skin. Perhaps it was that annoying smile or maybe the fact that your clan notoriously hated his. All you knew was that he drove you insane and you wished he'd just disappear so he could never bother you again.

"Where is everyone? I thought we agreed to meet here at 4," Gojo whined next to you.

"Worried your boyfriend stood you up?" You tease. thinking of the dark-haired boy who was usually joined to Gojo's hip most days.

"Suguru would never do that to me." Gojo smiles, unwrapping a lollipop he had stuffed in his pocket.

"I dunno, what if he finally got sick of you, Gojo?" You say, knowing it was impossible.

A soft ding interrupts your conversation with the boy and Gojo fishes his phone out of his pocket.

"HA! Told you he'd never stand me up!"

Gojo's phone is obnoxiously close to your face as he prompts you to read his chat with Geto.

On our way. Nanami needed to be convinced.

Another ding sounds and a picture of your fellow first years pops up Haibara is dragging Nanami down the sidewalk by his arms.

"Idiots." You murmur

"I see that smile! You got a crush on Nanamin?" Gojo's voice fills your ears as his pointer finger pokes at your face

"Piss off, Gojo." You groan "I hope one of Geto's curses eat you."

April 2006 (Gojo: 16 You: 15)

"You totally just cheated!" You accuse the blonde across from you

"Have you considered that you're just terrible at Jenga?" Nanami asked

"Have you considered that you just moved the table during my turn so you'd win and not me!" You groan

"It's just Jenga, Zenin. We can just start over." Haibara points out

"Not with a cheater playing." You roll your eyes

Haibara smiles as he begins to pick up the fallen blocks from the floor. You had been on edge for a few days now and your temper was beginning to get a bit out of hand. He had asked Nanami what he thought was the matter and the two of them had come to the conclusion that it had to do with your visit with the head of the Zenin clan.

"That's enough for today. I'm going to take a nap." Nanami declares

"Ugh, what a party pooper." Haibara teases, elbowing you.

"In case you forgot, Zenin here did me the favor of hitting me hard enough that I nearly passed out today in training." Nanami reminds the two of you.

Ah right, that. You had gone a bit too hard today sparring with Nanami.

"Oh, I forgot about that," Haibara says

"Yes. You should let Zenin get some rest. Her technique is draining, she's said so herself.

Sure, Phantom wasn't exactly easy to pull off but you wanted to keep playing. You wanted to kick Nanami's ass in Jenga.

"Alright. Let's eat dinner together tonight though. I have these awesome cookies in my room you'll both like." Haibara declares before following Nanami out of your room.

Perhaps Nanami was correct, a nap did sound enjoyable right now. A quick nap and then maybe you'd cook something to share with the boys tonight. Perhaps a couple of rice balls or maybe some chicken.

No sooner had you gotten comfortable under your blankets that your door swung open and Gojo was running into your room, Geto close on his heels.

"Satoru, you should always knock on a girl's door before barging in." Geto scolds his friend for you.

"It's fine, Suguru. It's not like she's getting changed or anything." Gojo grins looking down at you who had remained buried under your covers.

"And what if I was?" You scowl from your blankets

"I would've screamed in horror and asked Suguru to exorcise you." Gojo says flashing that oddly charming smile of his.

You're sure he could get away with murder if he just flashed those pearly whites.

You ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you sit up.

"I was about to take a nap but I guess it can wait." You say

"A nap? What are you four?" Gojo teases

"Yeah probably." You agree

"Not everyone is as energetic as you are Satoru." Geto reminded the white haired boy

"Yeah, what Geto said. Not everyone is a walking ball of energy." You say

Geto had always been your favorite of Jujutsu High's strongest duo. He didn't call you short or try to steal your food. Or maybe it was his long hair that seemed to always look better than yours.

Plus then there was that time Gojo snuck into your room to try and shave your eyebrows off. Sometimes you swore the elders of the Gojo clan were sending the six eyes user after you on purpose.

"Whatever, loser." Gojo said trying to reach and mess up your hair.

"Would you stop that! I'm not a child!" You groan

"Then why're you the size of one?" Gojo laughs

Even Geto laughed at that one as you shove Gojo out of the way.

"Why are you two even here? Can't you go bother Shoko for once?" You ask

"Shoko said you've been in a bad mood the past few days." Geto started

"So we've come to cheer you up!" Gojo finished

You watched wide-eyed as Gojo dumped the bag he was holding onto your bed. Every possible sweet fell out accompanied by different DVDs.

"For the record, I told him it was too much candy but he didn't listen," Geto says as Gojo riffles through the movie choices.

One DVD case catches your eye as Gojo argues with Geto about his sugar choices.

"Are you a Rachel McAdams fan, Gojo?" You ask as you hold up Mean Girls.

"Duh." Gojo grins before swiping the case from your hand to pop it into the player you had

"Raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by Regina George."

"Y'know you're kinda like Regina, Satoru," Geto says observing the movie.

"Am not." Gojo rolls his eyes sipping at his soda

"Sure you are." Geto smiles

"Yeah right." Gojo scoffs "Whaddaya think, Zenin?"

Gojo looked at you for an answer but was met with you asleep next to him, head resting on one of those massive stuffed animals you kept. You're drooling a bit and he can't help but think that you're a bit cute like this.

He reaches to shake you awake, determined to get your opinion on whether or not he is like a spoiled teenage girl.

"Let her rest. I heard that her and the other first years went pretty hard today training. Nanami took a big blow to the head from her using her technique." Geto stopped his best friend

"I wish she'd show me her technique. She explained it to me once but I still don't get it." Gojo huffed

"I'm pretty sure Phantom just multiplies her and then she closes the distance with her real body. I watched her use it on Haibara a few months ago." Geto explains

"Whatever...I still want to see it with my own eyes." Gojo declared

The TV hummed softly as they sat in silence while Regina George got hit by a bus after rushing out of her school.

"Why do you think she's been in such a bad mood recently? I heard her yelling about Jenga earlier." Geto asked

"I'm not entirely sure but I think it probably has to do with Nabito Zenin." Gojo said "His archaic way of doing things is probably upsetting her. I heard that she had some meeting with him recently."

Geto lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment.

"Nabito is probably trying to stick her in some arranged marriage. I wouldn't be surprised if it was with his own brat, Naoya." Gojo elaborates

"You know a lot about the Zenin Clan, Satoru," Geto points out

"Well the last Six Eyes and Infinity user was killed by one of them, so I think I'm entitled to a little knowledge. " Gojo defends

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you should try to be a little nicer to her though, especially if you know what might be going on with her clan." Geto suggests

"I'm perfectly nice." He defends

"Yesterday you said you were going to shave her head in her sleep because she ate one of your french fries."

"I was joking!"

November 2006 (Gojo: 16 You: 16)

"Happy Birthday, Zenin!" Haibara called "Have fun with your family!"

You smiled and waved at Haibara and Nanami as you got into the car that had been sent to pick you up.

Fun. This trip would be anything but fun.

Snow was falling as you entered your childhood home. The soft scent of lavender filled your nose and calmed your nerves.

"You're back! I'm still cooking!" Your mother exclaimed as she emerged from the kitchen

"Yeah, there wasn't much traffic." You reply, trying to release yourself from her bone-crushing hug. Seriously with her strength, she'd probably be able to exercise curses.

"Go wash up. Your father will be back soon and he is bringing Nabito-san and his son." Your mother says

Dinner is quiet. Or rather you're quiet next to your mother while Nabito and your father discuss something about cursed techniques and something about Toji Zenin's kid.

"Your face is plain." the boy across from you suddenly says

Your mother momentarily freezes but quickly regains her composure.

"Yes well, sometimes plain features are best. Just think you wouldn't want every man looking at your wife." Your mother says

Did she just agree to you being plain featured? You looked like her for crying out loud!

"Whatever," Naoya mumbled before shoving more rice into his mouth.

What a pig.

You're not entirely sure why it's happening. Perhaps it was the dinner with Naoya that had your brain going crazy. But ever since you got back from your parents' home you can't stop staring at Gojo. Was it because he represented everything your clan hated? Or maybe it was because he was insufferably annoying? Whatever the reason, you swore he was drawing you in.

"You should stop staring. You might put a hole in his head." Shoko says

"I wasn't-"

"Don't lie to me." Shoko smiles knowingly

You definitely weren't staring at Satoru Gojo. Nope. Not in a million years. And you definitely didn't get butterflies whenever he looked your way. That would be ridiculously, ridiculous.

August 2007 (Gojo: 17 You: 16)

"I don't get why I wasn't assigned with you two. I mean we're always going on missions together." You grumble

"They probably need you to help Gojo train more. Your technique is perfect for him to strengthen his Six Eyes, Zenin." Haibara points out

"It's just a grade two. We'll be back before sundown." Nanami assures

"Yeah, then we can watch a movie and get fat off popcorn," Haibara says

"I'm choosing tonight. I don't want to watch another Pirates of the Caribbean movie." Nanami declares

"But Jack Sparrow is so sexy!" You groan

Haibara laughs in agreement with you.

"See you later, Zenin! I can't wait to bully Nanami into watching Pirates of the Caribbean with you tonight!" Haibara declares

See you later, Zenin!

See you later.

You should've gotten into that damn car with them. Your technique was better than both of theirs. Maybe if you had...just maybe you wouldn't be staring down at half of your friend.

Geto was next to you, looking down at his body, He was silent, long hair blocking his face from you.

Nanami sat behind you, a damp cloth over his eyes.

"You need to rest for now, Nanami," Geto suggests, his soft voice filling the silence.

"Damn it. I should've gone with you two." You say, your voice dripping in regret.

"You could've gotten killed too, Zenin." Nanami sighs, his voice is tight like he's holding back tears.

A soft summer breeze blows through your hair as you sit on a bench. You had left Geto and Nanami with Haibara, not wanting to see the bloody sheet he was under anymore.

"Hey."

You glance up from where you had been picking at your nails, willing yourself to hold it together.

Gojo stood over you, hand stretched out with a piece of candy in it.

"I heard what happened." He said sitting next to you as you unwrapped the candy and popped it in your mouth.

"You wanna talk about it?" Gojo asked

"Not really." You sighed

"You don't seem too sad," Gojo said quietly

"I think I will be...later on. Once I'm alone." You say

"Yeah, me too." He replied.

Silence enveloped the two of you as you focused on the taste of the candy in your mouth.

"I gave you the green apple. It's my least favorite." Gojo said

"Thanks." You reply

September 2007 (Gojo: 17 You: 16)

In accordance with Jujutsu regulations, Geto Suguru is sentenced to death.

For once in his life Gojo Satoru is not buzzing around you like an excited puppy. You can see him, sitting alone on the steps of Jujutsu High.

The deaths of 112 people including his own parents rests on Geto's hands. You couldn't believe it when Nanami read the report to you. But now, seeing Gojo alone confirmed it.

You don't know what you're going to say to Gojo as you approach him. What do you say to the person who's just lost their best friend to a life of being a curse user?

"I know you're lurking back there," Gojo says

Damn it.

"I wanted to give you this." You mumble tossing him a lollipop before sitting next to him, probably a bit too close for someone who swore you weren't interested in him.

Gojo softly smiles and accepts the candy.

"Did he say what he wants to do next?" You ask

"He wants to exterminate all non-sorcerers from the world," Gojo says

An unattainable goal.

"That's impossible." You say

"That won't stop him." Gojo points out

A soft weight taps you and the sweet scent of Satoru Gojo's shampoo fills your nose as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"I'm sure you'll see him again. Even if it's not for a long time, you'll talk to each other again." You assure him.

"Yeah, I hope so," Gojo admits

His voice is a whisper in the breeze, a prayer for the future.

Christmas 2009 (Gojo: 20 You: 19)

"You have to stay quiet, Gojo!" You groan looking at your friend next to you

"This costume is so itchy though! The beard is gonna make my skin all red!" He whines

"Suck it up." You command

Gojo lets out another groan but helps you finish arranging the copious amounts of gifts he had ended up buying for Megumi and Tsumiki.

"Alright, it's perfect. Now go stand next to the tree."

Gojo listens to you and lets out a huff of embarrassment when you snap his picture.

"That better be for your eyes only." He says

"Oh definitely don't worry about it." You brush him off before quickly sending the picture off to Nanami and Shoko. They're sure to get a kick out of it.

"Remind me why I asked you to help with these brats again," Gojo says as he notices you sending his picture.

"Cuz' these brats would be dead if you were the only one watching them, Gojo." You say

"I'm a great caregiver." He says

"You wanted to get Megumi a pink tutu for Christmas." You say

"He would've looked great!" Gojo defends

"He would've set his Demon Dogs after you." You say

"Would not."

"Would too."

"Would not!'

"Would too!"

"What's going on?"

You and Gojo stop your bickering to see sleepy-eyed children hovering on the steps, dark hair out of place and a frizzy mess atop their little heads.

"Santa and I were just arguing about what cookie is best!" You grin

"That's not Santa. That's Gojo in that costume you ordered off Amazon last week." Megumi points out. "I saw the order details on your laptop."

Who the hell does this kid think he is?

"What? No! This is the real Santa from the North Pole!" You scramble

"Megumi, just go with it!" Tsumiki whispers to her little brother, "They obviously don't know Santa's not real!"

Is it a crime to toss a child out a window?

"The jig is up!" Gojo declares beside you as he rips off his fake beard. "Now let's get to the real fun stuff! Mistletoe!"

Gojo grabs a sprig of mistletoe from between the couch cushions. Curse him and his hiding spots.

"Pucker up, hot stuff!" Gojo says as he reaches for you and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close.

"Gross." You say pushing his face away from you, you hope he can't see how red you are.

Why the hell was he like this? The past few months Gojo had been all over you. Be it flirty gestures or just plain Gojo weirdness, he was consuming every bit of you and you weren't sure if it was a bad thing.

"You're blushing," Megumi says

"Aha! I knew you wanted a kiss from me!" Gojo exclaims chasing after you as you try to escape up the stairs.

Seriously, is it a crime to toss a kid out a window?

March 2011 (Gojo: 21 You: 20)

The harsh slam of the front door wakes Gojo from the peace that had taken over the house. Megumi and Tsumiki had gone to bed and he was kicked back on the sofa, face mask on and Harry Potter was running on TV.

"I'm going to seriously kill that asshole one day." You groan as you rummage through the fridge

"I take it the meeting with Naoya didn't go well," Gojo said

"Didn't go well is the understatement of the millennium." You groan sitting down next to him a slice of cold pizza in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

"Tell me about it," Gojo says pulling your feet into his lap.

He listens to you vent about your "fiance" and how annoying he is. Naoya wants you to cut your hair a certain way and to stop wearing the color red. Apparently, you also need to start wearing lipstick now according to the man as well.

"Honestly I hope he gets hit by a bus tomorrow." You groan "And what the hell is wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing. I think it suits you nicely." Gojo smiles, knowing it's true. You're as pretty as a picture even when you're mad at the world.

"Thanks." You sigh "That wasn't the worst of it though"

"Oh? What else did the scumbag say this time?" Gojo asked, genuinely curious

"Well beyond my appearance, he asked if I was still a virgin today." You say

"Are you?"

"Ow!" Gojo yelps as he rubs his arm where you punched him

"Yeah, I am you idiot!" You seethe, placing your wine and half-eaten pizza on the coffee table, "He's only asking cuz' he found out that I'm spending time around you and I guess he's worried about impurity."

"We're just friends," Gojo says "Besides who cares if a girl's slept with someone before? I know I wouldn't."

His words feel like glue in his mouth. Can you tell he wants to be more than friends?

"I know that, and you know that. But he must think I'm whoring myself out to you in exchange for a place to live." You say sadly

Gojo can sense that Naoya's words are under your skin and bouncing around in that pretty head of yours. A head that should only be filled with the happiest of thoughts, preferably ones with him in it.

"Hey, forget about him. It's none of his business what company you keep and what you look like." He assures, reaching his arms out to pull you into his side.

"He's technically my fiance y'know." You sigh as you let him reposition your body so your head rests on his chest. "I'm supposed to want to please him since he's a man."

There's that stupid Zenin clan mindset, that Gojo can't stand.

"Screw that! Pleasing someone just cuz they're a guy is so 200 years ago." He says

"Tell me about it." You groan

"I could just send a hollow purple his way if you want." Gojo suggests, fully serious "Just a small one. It would be the perfect way to get rid of him."

"And what? Start a full-on war between two ancient clans over me?" You laugh

"Of course," Gojo confirms, pulling you closer to him

To him, you're worth starting a thousand wars if it means you'll finally let him be by your side all the time.

"By the way, is that a charcoal mask?" You ask

"Yup. Got it from the mall today, gotta stay hot for the single ladies out there."

"Gojo?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a really weird guy."

December 2011 (Gojo: 22 You: 21)

"We have to stay quiet, 'gumi." The girl reminds her little brother

"What's the point? How do we even know they'll like this?" He asked

"Who wouldn't enjoy breakfast in bed?" Tsumiki asked

She had a point.

"Yeah, but Gojo and Zenin don't even sleep in the same room. So are we surprising them separately?" Megumi asked as he poured orange juice into cups, he didn't think he had the balance to make it up the stairs with a tray of food.

"Nope! I checked Gojo's room before I woke you up. They're in his room together. I think she had a nightmare or something last night." Tsumiki says, "And we're not supposed to call her Zenin, remember? She said we could just use her first name."

"Oh, right," Megumi says

The couple? No, friends? Whatever they were, the two individuals that had taken him and his sister in were odd. Megumi was sure that Gojo was insane or maybe missing a piece of his brain. Just the other day Gojo had dangled him out the window for asking why he owned pink underwear as a 22-year-old. It was a genuine question on Megumi's part. As for you, you were definitely his favorite. You didn't try to dangle him out windows or mess up his hair, and most importantly you didn't constantly ask about his cursed technique.

Gojo was definitely the more annoying out of the two of you. How you put up with him was a mystery to Megumi. Tsumiki had once said that there was a "budding romance" between Gojo and You. Megumi thought she was reading too many of those romance books you bought her. Of course, he understood why she was saying that. You and Gojo were clearly close to each other, not to mention sometimes you even slept in each other's bedrooms. And then of course there's the many times when you're cooking and Gojo would wrap his arms around you from behind.

Alright, fine maybe Tsumiki was right about the romance.

"Alright, they're done. What do you think?" Tsumiki asks as she places two plates of something on the tray that sits in front of him.

"What are they?" He asks

"They're pancakes." Tsumiki blinked at Megumi as though it was obvious

"Right, of course." Megumi didn't want to make her angry, after all the last time they got in a fight Tsumiki pulled his hair so hard he swore he was partly bald in that spot for months.

"Ok lets go. You get the silverware and the drinks." She says

Gojo's bedroom is so dark, that Megumi nearly trips on his own feet as he blindly follows his sister.

Tsumiki carefully set the tray of food on the desk that was covered in various papers and candy wrappers. Why was Gojo such a slob? Tsumiki pulls the curtains open so the morning light can invade the space.

Megumi carefully observes the pair in bed. Gojo's arm is wrapped securely around you and your head rests on his chest. Megumi finds himself wondering if his father and mother were ever like this. Not that it matters since he can't even remember either of them.

"Surprise!" Tsumiki shouts and Gojo's eyes fly open

"Whaaats going on?" You ask groggily

"We made breakfast!" Tsumiki smiles placing the tray in front of the two adults.

"I have orange juice." Megumi mumbles

"Oh wow!" You smile, rubbing at your eyes, and immediately sit up.

"What is it?" Gojo asks, white hair messier than usual.

Megumi knew it wasn't obvious that they were pancakes.

"Pancakes of course!" You smile at them and Megumi doesn't miss how you pinch Gojo and whisper "be nice" to the white-haired man.

"They have blueberries in them," Megumi says

Gojo's face falls at the idea of a breakfast lacking sugar.

"And chocolate chips." Tsumiki chimes in

Gojo's face is all smiles again as he cuts into the food.

"How is it?" His sister eagerly asks

"It's wonderful. Delicious. Thank you, Tsumiki and Megumi." You compliment

A wide smile breaks out across his sister's face and she grabs Megumi by the arm.

"Alright, we'll let you two eat in peace then." She smiles, practically skipping out of the room.

Just before Megumi closes the door, hushed voices reach his ears.

"Can I spit this out now? I don't think it's edible." Gojo asks

"I think mine has some eggshell in it." You reply

Hushed laughter follows and Megumi smiles to himself. Sure, the two of you were crazy but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

February 2012 (Gojo: 22 You: 21)

Gojo was sure he was actually insane. What the hell was he thinking buying this for you?

The ruby red box felt like a lead weight in his pocket as he approached you while you were slicing vegetables for tonight's supper. Maybe he shouldn't do this while you had a knife in your hand. What if you stabbed him? Well, his infinity would catch it, but still.

"Can I uh...talk to you?" He asked, well...no going back now

"Yeah, what's up?" You ask

"Can I talk to you without the knife in your hand?" He asks

"Satoru Gojo what did you do?" You accuse, immediately focusing on you

"Nothing! Why do you assume I did something?!" He cries

"Because the last time you started a sentence with "without the knife in your hand" You had encouraged Megumi to fight his school bully and then you got a call that Megumi punched a girl two years younger than him." You say

Oh right. He forgot about that.

"Alright well, no children were harmed this time. Now put the knife down." He said

You listen and he takes a big breath, he's going to need all the oxygen for this one.

"Look it might be stupid and I know Valentine's Day was last week but I got you something and I wanted to give it to you. I've actually had it since December but I keep chickening out" He explained fishing the box out of his pocket

"If that's an engagement ring I'll get the knife back out." You say eying him suspiciously.

"What? No! That would be crazy." Gojo laughs, he can feel his face burning. Fuck...he must be bright red.

"Alright good." You say taking the box

Gojo fidgets with the string that's sticking out of the sleeve of his shirt as you look at what he's done.

"Do you uh like it?" He asked

"I do. Why'd you get it for me?" You ask

Wasn't it obvious? He'd buy the whole universe for you if he could.

"You really don't have any idea?" He asks

"No...I don't." You say

Your face is relaxed, you're definitely not lying to him. You seriously have no idea that he's totally obsessed with you!

"Are you gonna say it? I still have to cut some carrots up." You sigh

Gojo lets out a noise that's so insane sounding he swears he got possessed by some evil spirit.

"I got it cuz' I thought it'd look great on you!" The words are coming out of his mouth like vomit, " And I really uh...uhm...I like you."

The last bit is so quiet he's sure you didn't hear it.

"Wow did I just get a shoujo romance confession from the Satoru Gojo himself?" You tease as his gaze remains fixed on his feet.

"Whatever. If you don't want it I'll take it back tomorrow." He grumbled

Silence falls over the two of you like a blanket and Gojo wishes he could bury himself alive. Of course, she's making fun of you! She's engaged! She's been engaged since she was 15! One necklace won't change that! Sure, her fiance was a total buttwipe but still...

"Satoru,"

His first name coming from your lips for the first time ever has his gaze snapping back up. He wishes that you'd say his name like that forever.

"I'm only teasing you. I like you too. I have for a while." You admit

"How long is a while?" He prods, suddenly filled with confidence

"None of your business, mister. Are you going to help me put this on?" You gesture to the box

Gojo is as gentle as he can be as he clips the necklace behind your neck.

"How do I look?" You ask

"Perfect." He smiles and pulls you towards him.

"I smell, Satoru. I haven't gotten to shower yet and I exrocsied a curse at a school earlier." You softly say

"Mmm, you smell good to me." Gojo says "You're always absolutely perfect. And now you're all mine."

An elated giggle leaves his body as he finally gets to kiss you for the first time. If only his 17-year-old self could see him now.

"That's disgusting."

You jump away from him and he wishes you hadn't.

"Megumi, how was school?" You ask and Gojo doesn't miss the way you're obviously flustered.

"It was good. Until I came home to see that." He says

"Well get used to it cuz' you'll be seeing a lot more of it." Gojo grins as he pulls you towards him and tosses an arm around your shoulders.

"She's all mine now, little man. You're not allowed to give her a Valentine's Day card ever again!"

"Satoru, stop that!"

"So are you two finally dating?" Tsumiki asked hopefully

"Course' we are. You don't come home to two people sucking face and expect them not to be officially a couple."

Gojo deserves the punch to the stomach you give him before resuming your vegetable cutting.

Next Part

Series Masterlist / My Masterlist

#gojo satoru #gojo #nanami kento #geto suguru #yu haibara #shoko ieiri #naoya zenin #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk #romance #gojo x reader #fluff #angst #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo x female reader #megumi fushiguro #tsumiki fushiguro #toji fushiguro #yuji itadori #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satosugu

[pseudowho]

When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city, to see a marching band.

He said, "Son, when you grow up, will you be the saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned?"

He said, "Will you defeat them? Your demons, and all the non-believers, the plans that they have made?"

"Because one day, I'll leave you, a phantom to lead you in the summer, to join the black parade."

-- The Black Parade, My Chemical Romance

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #Jjk s2 #specialz #my chemical romance #mcr #nanami kento angst #nanami angst

[bunnys-kisses]

bound to fall in love

nanami kento

cw: fluff & smut, romance (read: mushy), office worker!nanami & office worker!reader, being in love, (slight) praise kink, bunny: inspired by the song 'bound' by ponderosa twins plus one. i wanted to write something a little different <3 ugh to be in love

you met nanami when the sky was orange. you were both returning from work and ran into one another at the local convenience store. it was almost romantic how you met, going for the last muffin in the display case.

he said you could take it, but you said 'why don't we share it.' and you both ended up at a nearby park on bench. he had bought you a drink and the two of you split the muffin.

you could tell he was looking at you as you happily ate, he even leaned in and wiped a bit of chocolate from your cheek. that was how you two met, and who would've thought that a double chocolate muffin would change your life.

it had now been six months since you and nanami got together. while your lives remained busy, you always tried to make time for one another. work culture left you burnt out, but it was worth it after a long week to see your boyfriend.

he tried his best to make your weekly dates special, even if you didn't expect it. you wanted to see him, that was the most important part of your dates!

when your week ended at the office, you were out the doors and headed toward nanami's office building. you waited in the lavish lobby as you looked around at the modern decor of the place.

you wondered briefly how much the company paid for the ugly statue. but your attention was captivated when you heard your name. you looked over and saw nanami standing across from you.

"you looked like you've been running."

you smiled, "i wanted to make sure that i got here before you left." then approached him and wrapped your arms around the other man. you leaned up and he kissed you on the lips.

he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. your eyes met and you could see the gentle smile in his eyes. you kissed him once more before you pulled away.

he held you hand as you pulled away, "i was wondering if you wanted to get dinner. my treat." then smiled softly at you.

you gripped his hand, "i was thinking that we go to the restaurant outside the train station near your home."

he replied, "are you inviting yourself over?" he led you out of the lobby, he knew his co-workers were going to have a field day. it wasn't that he was embarrassed of you, he simply liked to keep his personal affairs private.

you were close to him, holding his arm as you walked towards the train station, "i was thinking we could have a night together. this week was terrible, i need to forget all about it!"

he replied, "well, i can't say no to that." as he gave you a quick glance as he continued to walk with you to the train station.

-

dinner with nanami meant dessert in his apartment. you fell back onto the bed and beamed up at him. if you could, you would've had hearts in your eyes over him if it were a cartoon.

he just made you feel special, was that a crime?

but in all fairness, someone as handsome as him should be illegal. and that cock should be illegal goods. you covered your face with your hands before he got closer to you.

he crowded over you on the bed and said softly, "why are you laughing?"

your eyes met with his and you smiled, "something stupid. don't worry about it. i hate to admit it, honey. you make me feel like a teenager again."

he replied, "well, i prefer my woman around my age." he pulled you into him and he rolled over so you were on top, "i find they only get prettier with age."

you kissed him on the lips and then gazed down at him, "sweet talker." you played with the buttons of his shirt, "you look good in blue."

"and you look good in every colour." he replied as he leaned up and kissed you once more. the kiss was firm, but not aggressive. it felt gentle. full of love.

slowly you undressed one another, you were thankful to be out of your work clothes. you were more than content to kick it off the bed and let the comfort of the weekend roll in.

soon you were both naked and nanami took in the sight of you. he gave you sweet praises. he smiled at you gently as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"i'm so proud of you. another week down."

"we need a vacation soon."

he kissed your forehead, "soon." he pulled away to get in between your legs, "somewhere warm. somewhere i'll never want to leave."

you hooked your hands under the pillow and looked up at him. your chuckled, "you mean my apartment when the heat on too high."

he rubbed your thighs tenderly as he wrapped them around his waist. he replied, "somewhere else then."

to be in love with nanami was a life full of work with breaks in it like cracks in concrete. but within those cracks you found comfort in your lover. there was never a man like nanami and there wouldn't be one after.

he slowly guided his cock into you and sank into you. he exhaled deeply through his nose and leaned forward to plant his hands on either side of you. you were close together once more.

you wrapped your arms around him and began to kiss him as your bodies moved together. a tiny slice of paradise.

"my good girl." he said softly, his lips close to yours.

you moved together like two halves of the same whole, perfect pieces of one another. nanami wouldn't trade you for the world. a life was only worth living if you were in it. and he soaked in every moment he had with you, especially the ones where you looked so perfect.

you felt in love. that was all you could say. you were in love and you'd scream it from the rooftops if you had to! you adored your hardworking man. he just complete you. he leaned in to kiss you one more time as his hands snaked under the pillow and held yours. his pace quickened.

the bed shifted under your movements. you made small noises, but your breathing was getting heavy from the movements of your bodies. your head felt like it was swirling from the immense pleasure that ran through your body.

he sighed contently, "you feel so good." he leaned further against you and kissed you gently as he rolled his hips up against you. you felt like a dream, you were amazing.

you smiled up at him, "not as good as you feel." you said as you met his steady pace. you could feel the pleasure in your bones as he made love to you.

it wasn't sex, it was makin' love.

it wasn't long before the urge to orgasm came over both you like gentle waves. your breathing was heavy as he continued to thrust up into you.

"i love you." he said with such honesty.

"i love you too." you said before you grabbed him by the face and pulled him into a tight kiss. you held his face against yours as you climax.

you both came at the same time and you moaned deep into your kiss. you held one another in each other's arms. and when nanami broke the, he could feel the sweat at the nape of his neck and his breathing was heavy.

you laid next to one another soon after and he spooned you from behind. he loved the feeling of your skin against his. it was a feeling that he relished in. he kissed the back of your neck and you sunk into his arms.

"my love." he said softly, "now and forever." before he heard you drift off to sleep. he smiled to himself and was content with holding you like this all night. <3

xoxo, bunny

#bunny writes #jujustu kaisen #reader insert #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #romance

[gloomyswritings]

silent protecter | knight!nanami kento x princess reader

warnings : nanami is a few years older than reader, jealous toxic and possessive nanami, little ooc,

slightly suggestive ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

notes : reader is a Princess and nanami is her knight who watches over her, this is just blurbs not super cohesive fyi maybe I’ll write more about this story later :3 also like always I don’t have time to proofread I work in corporate America folks

The moment Nanami laid eyes on you the day you were born he felt something inside him change; maybe it was because he knew from that moment forward he would be your protector until the day he died just as his father was for the king—your father. He held you in his arms, you cooing and your hands pulling at the strings on his shirt, his face was scrunched as he disliked babies. “She likes you.” The Queen said her expression was tired yet gentle. He only continued to make a disgusted face which only made you laugh more. “What’s her name?” He asked informally as he handed you back to your mother. He watched as your mother caressed your chubby cheeks a look of pure love gleamed in her eyes, “______. My dear sweet ______.” The queen replied voice so soft. ______, that was a lovely name. He thought.

Nanami was only your senior by five years but yet he was a still a young boy with an immense amount of responsibility, and truth be told he hardly wanted to interact with you when you were a baby even a toddler he did not care that he was your knight and you were the Princess. It wasn’t until you were older at the innocent age of seven when he began to interact with you more. Partially it was because his father forced him to get to know you more and the other reason was because he was constantly following you around, sword in hand and an uninterested expression on his pale features. You often bombard him with questions which he dutifully answered slowly he began to open up to you and thus a true friendship sparked.

When Nanami was a teen he realized something in him had changed. The way your hand would brush against him would make his heart flutter, your gentle laughter made his face heat up, the way your soft silky hair felt against his fingertips as he brushed your hair on rare occasions. He would feel jealous when he saw others flirting with you in an attempt to court you but he knew no man was worthy of your hand in marriage so he’d find them afterwards and tell these men that they were unworthy and to not ever flirt with you again. It worked most of the time, it was his way of weeding out cowards. You were oblivious to the fact that your knight was the one driving away men, you certainly thought you were the problem. “You’re not doing anything wrong my Princess. Those men aren’t worth your time anyways.” Nanami consoled you as he soothingly ran his hands through your hair as you cried into his chest about being the most undesirable princess in the world.

Nanami watched you from a distance as you sat on a bench on the gardens with a potential suitor. He glared daggers at the white haired man caressed your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He watched as your face heated up and you shyly looked away, your hands bunching up the fabric of your beautiful dress. Satoru Gojo, a man from a powerful noble family within your kingdom he had been seeing you for months now trying to win your heart over and it seemed to be working. Though Nanami knew the tales of the womanizer Satoru, he saw how the man toyed with you but you were too naive to notice. Subconsciously his fists tightened at his side and he swore he made eye contact with the white haired devil who shot him a smirk. God he could strangle him! “The Princess seems to really like him! Reckon this one will work out?” A voice said from beside him, for the first time knocking Nanami out of his trance. He looked at the raven haired man next to him and grunted, “Hope not. I hope the King doesn’t allow ______, to marry that fool.” He responded to his fellow knight Yu Haibara who was also tasked with guard duty. Yu laughed softly, “Seems like someone’s je-“ he began was quickly shut his month upon seeing the glare Nanami gave him. More time passed and eventually he watched as you wandered further into the gardens with Satoru Gojo as much as he wanted to follow he knew he couldn’t. He had to respect the boundaries that were given to him. It was nauseating to think what was happening between you and Satoru right now he only prayed it was innocent then suddenly he heard you shriek. Instantly he sprung into action following the sound of your voice. His sword was drawn expecting the worse but only to see you pressed against Satoru’s chest.

“Woah there. Don’t worry I wasn’t doing anything to the Princess. A wasp was chasing her. Don’t worry I handled it.” Satoru said cooly a boyish grin playing on his lips. His strong hand was wrapped around your waist lingering a little too close to your bum. Nanami sighed putting away his weapon he waisted no time walking up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’m afraid it’s time for the Princess’ classes. Come Yu will take you, your highness.” He said. You pulled away from Satoru and nodded, “Ah I see thank you Kento. Satoru it was a pleasure as always seeing you.” You smiled bowing to the white haired man before following Yu back into the castle, leaving Nanami and Satoru alone. “I’ll escort you out, sir.” Nanami said a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Satoru laughed, “You’re jealous aren’t you?” He asked. Nanami stiffened and only motioned for Satoru to walk. “Oh come on Kento no need to be so formal with me. We went to school together and are friends. _______, likes me which is a shame because I don’t really like her that way. Not my type. My folks are wanting me to marry her so I can be king. Don’t really want that. It’s a shame your her knight so you can’t marry her.” Satoru said walking past the blond. Nanami’s eye twitched as glared at him, “Then stop playing with her feelings.” He suddenly said, Satoru pausing. “Or what? It seems like I’m on track to be the next ki-“ then suddenly Satoru was shoved against a brick wall. Nanami gripping his frenemy’s collar. “Your playing with the wrong person Satoru. Go find someone else to manipulate but leave _______ out of this.” He hissed. Suddenly Satoru began to laugh using a small burst of cursed energy to push Nanami away. He straightened his collar, “I just wanted to see if you really liked her. Fine she’s yours. I’ll stop courting her.” He winked at the blond before walking past him leaving the castle grounds. Nanami stared blankly now realizing his mistake, you’d be absolutely heartbroken.

The next day came and so did Satoru Gojo’s rejection much to Nanami’s pleasure though he hated seeing you cry. He sat on your plush bed adorned with expensive blankets as you sobbed your head on his lap. He stroked your head as he gazed at your shaking body. “Shh shh…it’s okay Princess. He wasn’t worth your time anyways. Satoru is sleazy and a womanizer he just wanted to use you for your status.” He tried to comfort you but you only cried harder. “No one likes me Kento you only deal with me because you have to!” You cried lifting your head up as tears streamed down your face. You looked like a mess but to Nanami you were beautiful as always. His expression remained indifferent as he looked at you, “I like you ______. I stay around because I care about you.” He explained. Your eyes widened for a brief moment before you cried again collapsing into his chest. “What would I do without.” You cried. A sly smirk played on his lips as he wrapped his arms around you patting your back.

Some years passed and you were now twenty two the time to marry was near and your parents were putting more pressure on you finding a suitor. Nanami grew more restless more agitated the more men he saw trying to court you. He was losing himself—finally he had enough. He stepped into your bedroom without a knock just as the sun began to set. He stood watching you for a few moments as you hummed softly to yourself applying various creams to your face. Clearing his throat he began to speak, “_______.” He said cooly. You jumped in surprise turning to face the tall blond man, pressing a hand to your chest you laughed, “Goodness Kento you scared me. I figured you would of already been in bed since it is past your scheduled ‘work’ time.” You said. Nanami scoffed, “You know I’m on duty 24/7.” He retorted. You shrugged turning around to screw the lid onto your face cream. Swiftly Nanami made his way towards you closing the distance and when you spun around once again he was only a few inches from your body. His tall frame towered above you, “There’s something we need to discuss.” He stated. You nodded slowly standing up, your heart rate was through the roof, “Okay..go ahead.” You said meekly.

With one quick motion you were pinned to the wall as Nanami’s amber eyes peered into yours. His strong hand was placed firmly on your shoulder and his other hand against the wall trapping you. “Wha-what are you doing?” You stammered out. You’d never seen him act this way before it was intimidating. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours he let out an exasperated sigh left his mouth as he closed his eyes, “Your hunt for finding a husband it’s over. I hate the way those men stare at you…like you’re a piece of meat. They only want you because of your status. They don’t appreciate you for who you really are.” He said voice low. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up at your knight, “Wha..what are you—“ you began but once again you were cut off. You were so confused a million different questions were running through your mind. What on earth was he going on about? “Quiet I’m not done.” He silenced you. You tried wiggling out of his grasp but his grip on tightened, “I’ve decided we’re going to get married. I’m the only one that understands you. I trust you agree also?” He asked though it wasn’t so much of a question. Your eyes widened in shock, “is this a confession Kento?” You asked meekly. He hummed in response, “Mhm. I love you _______. Your status means nothing to me. Your just _______ to me.” He said though this time his voice was more center. He pulled away from you releasing his grip when you didn’t say anything.

Nanami sighed in frustration burying his face into his hand shaking his head, “Forget I said anything. I spoke out of place Princess.” He apologized. He knew if word got out about what he just confessed his father would do more than just reprimand him. He’d be lucky to get away with his life. Suddenly he felt your soft fingers wrap around his wrist, “Wait Kento. I think…no I do love you too. Perhaps I just thought it wouldn’t be possible for us to get married that’s why I tried so desperately to find someone else to love but nothing ever connected.” You confessed your voice was soft and gentle. Nanami turned to face you this time a look of surprise on his face, he couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked. So shy and submissive it turned him on like no other.

He quickly closed the gap between you two and collided his lips against yours. Your lips were so soft unlike his slightly chapped ones. His calloused hands cupped your face he bit your lip you let out a gasp and a moan left your mouth. “K-Kento.” You gasped out. As Nanami’s strong hands began to travel to your collarbone than to your chest he was stopped by your bedroom door opening.

“N-Nanami!” The familiar voice of Yu Haibabra stammered out. Quickly the blond pulled away from you and stood in front turning to face the raven haired boy, “What?” He said through gritted teeth. “I…I…the King told me to retrieve the Princess. A suitor is here to see her.” He stammered out his face was flushed a bright red. Nanami scoffed, “We’ll be out in a minute. Tell the King to send the suitor away. ______ has found herself a husband.” He commanded. Yu quickly bowed slamming the door shut behind him rushing away. When Nanami turned to face you he noticed how flushed your face was you avoided his gaze shyly twirling your fingers, “H-how do I tell father?” You asked. Nanami lifted your chin up forcing you to look at him, “Don’t worry I’ll handle it. Fix yourself up then we’ll go see him.” He said cooly.

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #au #reader insert #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #female reader #fantasy au #writings #fluff #romance

[tsukikeimybeloved]

i want to think of an actor au fanfic for each jjk men i like based on taylor swift's 1989 album... like, i have a somewhat idea what songs they are but idk how to do it lmao

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk fluff #jjk angst #romance #help

[satorusplayplace]

Hi! Can you please do those boyfriend headcanons for Nanami and Geto this time? I lived the ones you did before! Oh and if you write for the girls as well, some gf headcanons for Mai and maki as well then? Thank you 💕

JJK characters as your s/o! —

☆ pairing: nanami x reader, geto x reader, megumi x reader, inumaki x reader, mai x reader, maki x reader

☆ part one!

☆ content warning(s): fluffy! a little angst??, lovesick cuties!! mentions of gojo…

☆ A/N: wanted to add a little bit of megumi as well! hope u enjoy this :] let me know if you want more!! send in requests. sorry it took so long! let me know if i missed anything :D i also added inumaki!

NANAMI KENTO —

he’s super sweet! he’s always working because the jujutsu society is always short of workers. though, you know it’s to save people so you don’t mind much! kento loves you and you love him.

when he comes home after a long day, he really just wants to shower and relax. so that’s where you come in to take care of your sweet lover.

he doesn’t like PDA too much! instead he holds your hand and gives you a kiss on the forehead once in a while. he’ll mostly kiss your hand to comfort you out in public if needed.

nanami only likes to be called “nanamin” by you.

he loves whenever you both are sleeping in the same bed. he loves to hold you as close as possible to him. he’ll have you rest on his chest or he’ll cuddle your back.

if you got sick, expect him to be making you food and giving you medicine!

same goes with him, if he gets sick. you’re taking care of him even though he hates it.

nanami loves acts of service! especially when he does something for you. that’s definitely his love language.

nanami loves that you’re always there for him. he’s happy to have someone by his side.

he likes the traditional roles, housewife and working husband but not in a misogynistic way but because you both enjoy it. i mean nanami also helps you around the house! he doesn’t mind it especially when you get sick.

nanami loves to come home early while you’re cooking so he can wrap his arms around your waist.

nanami loves to sleep with you. you’re his comfort. nanami is so in love with how you are. he’s a light sleeper but knowing you’re by him. he loves it so much

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi is such a quiet boy. he’s super reserved!

megumi is a great boyfriend, he loves you so much. he just loves spending time with you.

megumi definitely is affectionate but it’s more behind closed doors because he hates PDA.

gojo teases him too much but you don’t mind cause at least it’s fun to be around everyone!

megumi learns how to cook from yuuji, so don’t be surprised when megumi comes knocking on your door with a new recipe in his hands!! you’re always going to be the first one to try.

you’re his weakness. he loves you so much. he always wants the best for you.

megumi sleeps in a strict schedule (nanami does too) but you sometimes break that. megumi will gladly stay up if you wanna watch shows together. you want to watch hunter x hunter because it’s your favorite anime right now (hint hint), why not?

megumi loves you dearly, honestly he can’t dream being without you. he’s like so lovesick for you. definitely, he’s super clingy when you’re alone

imagine you guys are cuddling and he’s all over you. being super clingy, doesn’t want you to get up, and he nuzzles into your neck placing soft kisses all over you when your damned white hair teacher and yuuji come inside your room, “y/n!!!! where are you!!” and is met with the sight of megumi cuddling all over you nuzzled into your neck while you’re just rubbing his back and on your phone.

the amount of embarrassment he gets flushed to his face appears because he knows he will be teased. he’s not embarrassed of you though, he’s so proud of you.

your relationship probably wasn’t even known to them until now because of how little PDA megumi gives you.

GETO SUGURU —

suguru is always said to be a bully but i think he’s super nice!

he loves you so much!! you’re his baby.

suguru always makes sure that you’re loved and fed. he can’t have his love feel insecure or left hungry.

suguru probably tells satoru all about you. suguru loves you so much. suguru wants to give you the world.

suguru is such a soft man. he wants to show any of his interests to you. he loves art! he loves showing his art to you.

suguru loves to hug you. i mean, he isn’t the PDA guy but in private, he definitely is. he loves you!

the most he’ll do in public is kiss your cheeks. he’ll hold your hand!

suguru is such a love bug while you’re alone. he just wants to cuddle his lover all day.

his favorite thing is to cook with you. you’re definitely a better cook than him but he can cook as well. he just prefers your cooking over his.

suguru will always protect you from danger. you’ll never have to worry your pretty mind.

— INUMAKI TOGE

toge such a cute lover, because he can’t talk, he shows it in his actions and small notes

oh how much this boy loves you. he loves to cuddle into your chest and just love on you.

he loves to kiss your neck and cheek.

he loves holding hands!

he’s definitely a PDA person. he’ll wear hickeys proudly, he’ll let lipstick stains stay all over his face.

toge lives for your love. he just wants to be around you.

toge loves to cuddle and give you notes

oh my gosh, he’ll leave small notes in your pockets and around campus for you to find.

one note said, “i love how pretty you look right now. i’m getting flustered by your beauty.” you keep all his notes in a box. you love this man so much.

toge such an amazing lover, he loves how cute you are. he can’t help but love all over you.

toge sleeps in with you, he’ll sneak into your room and just sleep with you.

oh you both are menaces. you both love trolling everyone. gojo is best because he knows but he’ll let it happen and it’s still funny. but getting yuuji is hilarious. yuuji always has the best reactions. you love to tease the younger boy.

toge just loves how you are. he loves how cute you are! he loves your hair, your lips, eyes, cheeks, everything about you. he’s so in love.

toge is lovesick. oh he’s so clingy too. when he’s away for a mission, he ends up finding you in your room and just plops on top of you. gosh he’s so lonely without you. he missed you so much..

toge is such a cute lover and the way he shows it is so adorable.

ZENIN MAI —

mai is a big tsundere. she loves you but she hates showing it. she wished maki was with her still, she’s super insecure about herself but she love you so much!!

mai is super soft whenever you’re both going to bed. mai will cuddle into your chest because she seeks your warmth and comfort.

mai will act super cold to you in public. she hates when maki can know her weakness. she hates it so much.

mai will hug on you, kiss your cheek, and just hold you when you’re alone. oh she’s so lovesick.

mai is such a flirt too! she’s always trying to make you blush.

she loves your soft skin. she loves to cuddle you and nuzzle herself onto you.

mai absolutely loves you so much. she just so soft for you. she hates that she has a bad relationship with her sister.

you try to help maki and mai get along but it only goes so far until you have to take mai away.

mai is so protective of you, she just hates when other people touch you. she hates when that stupid white haired teacher teases you all the time. unfortunately you are close with him from being friends with megumi.

— ZENIN MAKI

maki is also like her sister. she’s super protective and a tsundere.

maki never hides you. she’s so proud to have you as her’s. she will flaunt you around. oh but does she hate that white hair idiot being around when you’re together.

maki is always cuddling you. she’s definitely a big spoon but will be a little spoon too.

maki loves to kiss you but she doesn’t do too much pda. she’ll kiss your cheek in public though!

maki somehow always gets caught kissing your lips by panda and toge. somehow gojo is there too?

maki is always embarrassed when caught because it’s when she’s super vulnerable.

you’re best friends with yuta and maki loves that! she respects yuta a lot.

you three came as a trio but now yuta is overseas and maki and you are alone without him! but now you and maki are dating!

maki just loves you so much. she wants to be around you all the time. maki just thinks you’re adorable. she just loves to see you.

maki also loves to tease you. she’s a big flirt like mai. whenever you’re all flustered and hiding your face from her, she can’t help but laugh at you.

maki is such a cute lover. she loves to buy you small gifts and hug you. she loves spending time with you.

maki is such a good lover, she loves to take care of you and love you :(

#jjk headcanons #jjk #jjk nanami #jjk megumi #jjk geto #jjk mai #jjk maki #jjk x reader #geto suguru #nanami kento #megumi fushiguro #mai zenin #maki zenin #romance #fluff #anime #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #megumi x reader #suguru x reader #nanami x reader #mai x reader #maki x reader #sfw #toge inumaki x reader #toge #inumaki #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #inumaki toge #inumaki drabbles

[reinerispretty]

astronomically.

satoru gojo x f! reader. sequel to best of luck. and pause technique. third installment of the heart beats series!

masterlist

ok, this one is my favorite hehe. also wrote this back in 2022. please enjoy!

SUMMARY:

You get very, very drunk. Thankfully Gojo's there.

tws: throw up (for drunk reasons)

Nanami Kento is too good at drinking. One might not think it just by looking at him—he seems very reserved and orderly, the type that sticks to a strict routine to keep himself at optimal performance. And those things are all true, of course, but it doesn’t stop him from tossing back shots like nobody’s business. 

You, however, are not very good at drinking, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. When Nanami orders another shot, you order one too, because you don’t want him doing it alone. You’ve never liked the burn going down your throat, but they get you drunk fast , especially at the pace you’re going. Nanami probably doesn’t feel much, what with science and tallness and muscle mass and all that, but you’re hammered. Stumbling over words and feet type hammered. 

Gojo Satoru doesn’t really drink, and for good reason. He’d tell anyone who asks that he’s a massive lightweight, since he never developed much of a tolerance, what with being the strongest sorcerer and all. And that’s true, sure, but the larger reason is you. You, who is so adamant about keeping up with your friends and proving yourself that you’re willing to be your own downfall. 

You don’t need to keep up with Nanami, god knows he doesn’t expect you to, but you’ve always had a sort of…inferiority complex. You want to prove to other people that you’re strong before they have the chance to doubt you, even if you’ve known said people for over a decade. You’ve gotten better since you’ve grown up (you used to be an aggressive little thing), but at times like these when emotions run rampant due to alcohol content, you start to fall back into old habits. 

Tonight’s your birthday, and it’s probably the only day of the year you’ll allow yourself to act like this, so carefree and unbidden. You’re sipping on your cocktail which is arguably more juice than liquor, thanks to a quick exchange between Nanami and the bartender. You’ve got one hand propping up your head, and you’re looking between Gojo and Nanami as they talk. 

From behind dark glasses, Gojo’s eyes flash to meet yours. He gives you a wink that has you blushing before he turns back to your friend, and his large hand rests comfortably on your knee. Your fingers wrap around his, and you hum along with the song playing through the speakers. 

Gojo likes you like this. He likes you all the time, but drunk you is a favorite of his. You’re a lot less careful about what comes out of your mouth, so you’re far more likely to compliment him. Mostly though, you seem relaxed, and he knows it’s because he’s there. You don’t worry about anything because you know he’ll take care of you, and it makes his heart swell that you put so much trust in him. He wants to soak in every moment, so Gojo always offers himself up as the designated driver. 

“I like your tie,” You interrupt their conversation to tell Nanami for the seventeenth time that night. 

He doesn’t miss a beat, sending a relaxed smile your way and saying, “Thank you, (Y/N). I appreciate it.” You grin so widely at him your eyes squint, then return to your people-watching. 

The bar is crowded, has been since you all arrived, and you aren’t normally someone who enjoys crowds but you’d insisted on coming. You like drinking with your friends. It reminds you of a time when everything wasn’t so complicated and serious. It was a long time ago. 

You know you’ve reached the bottom of your drink when your sips become loud, the straw bringing up absolutely nothing. You pout, and turn to Gojo to ask him to order you another drink, when suddenly his face is inches from yours. 

“How’s a burger sound?” He asks, and your eyes sparkle at the prospect of food. You don’t even realize it’s being used as a distraction.

“Okay!” You nod eagerly, and you turn toward Nanami. “Are you comin’ with us?” 

“I think it’s best if I head home,” He tells you, and your bottom lip wobbles just slightly. 

“But Nanamin,” You say, and they know you’re absolutely wasted if you’re using his nickname. “Ish my birthday .” Sober you would respect your friend’s wishes, but drunk you just wants to spend time with him! Nanami is a busy person who keeps to his routine, leaving little room for the two of you to actually hang out. If it isn’t scheduled in advance, he won’t be there. (Ironically, if it is scheduled, it’s unlikely Gojo will show up. It’s a good thing your birthday is so important to them.) 

“I’ll walk with you,” He offers. “But once you arrive, I’m going home.” Nanami checks his watch. “It’s already past one. I’m not as young as I used to be.” 

“I think he’s calling us old,” Gojo whispers loudly to you, and you gasp. 

“Nanamin! Don’ disrespect your elders!” 

Gojo pays the tab and the three of you leave the bar, which is still thrumming with the vibrancy of night life. Your hand firmly holds Gojo’s, swinging it back and forth as you pour your heart out to Nanami. 

“I’m really thankful you came tonight, Nanamin,” You say. “I mish you a lot. We used ta spend soooo much time together, ‘member?” If a representation of your heart was inaccurately drawn by Gojo, ninety-five percent of it would belong to him while the other five percent would go to Nanami. Although you’d met Gojo first, you’d been actual friends with Nanami for longer. (These timelines blur and coalesce depending on who’s telling them.) 

Nanami hums. “Yes, back when we attended the same school and didn’t have full time jobs.” 

You groan. “I think we should jus’ quit an’ make Gojo take care of us!” 

“Gladly,” He says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. Nanami would never allow it and neither would sober you, but he’d spend all of his money on you if he could. 

You lean into his touch completely, something you would normally only do in the privacy of your home. You’re very reserved when it comes to intimacy, which Gojo respects, but he also lives for these moments. 

You’re talking animatedly to Nanami but Gojo isn’t listening. He’s too focused on how the neon lights shine against your hair and how small but right your hand feels in his. How your laugh rises above the noise of the city but still sounds more melodic than any song he’s ever heard before. 

Gojo runs a hand through his hair. What did his students call it? Down bad? (Astronomically, Kugisaki would add later.) 

They finally reach the burger place and Nanami departs, but not before you give him a bone-crushing hug. Gojo laughs as he sees the surprise on his friend’s face. He hadn’t been expecting your strength. 

Before you can get too sad over Nanami’s departure, Gojo steers you inside. There’s a bit of a line, since other drunk people also had the same idea, but he doesn’t mind. Just means more time with you. 

“What d’you want?” He asks. You hum, finger tapping against your chin as you think. 

“Cheeseburger, large fry, an’ a milkshake, please.” 

“Got it, but I feel like I shouldn’t have to remind you that you’re lactose intolerant.” 

“Ish my birthday ,” You grumble up at him, but you rest your head against his arm. “If I wanna shit my brains out later, I should be able to.” 

He snorts. “You know technically, it’s not your birthday anymore. We passed midnight a long time ago.” 

You look up at him, eyebrows drawing together. “We celebrated your birthday for a whole week!” 

“Well, yeah, but that’s me.” You scoff at him but he catches the smile on your face, and presses a kiss to your rounded cheek. 

He orders (and pays) for you, and the two of you claim a booth as you wait for your food. He takes advantage of your lack of inhibitions and sits on the same side as you, enjoying the way your thighs touch against his. Such a simple thing, and yet when it comes to you, it’s everything. 

Gojo can feel eyes on him, hear friends whispering to each other about how hot he is (a fact, not a personal opinion), but he’s only looking at you. You, who’s decided that now is a good time to type out a thank you message to everyone who made your special day so special. 

The bar was more of a close friends event, but the guest list for dinner had been much broader. Shoko and Mei Mei were in attendance, and somehow you all wound up at the same restaurant as the students. It might’ve been a smidge inappropriate, but you’d looked so happy to see everyone there that Gojo didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t planned. 

Utahime was there as well. She’d shot him a death glare which immediately faded into a bright smile as soon as her eyes landed on you. The two of you had always had a grumpy girl club thing going on that he’d never understood. Aside from himself and Nanami, Utahime is your other best friend. He has to admit it makes him a bit jealous, especially because he’s certain she’s trying to steal you away to Kyoto. 

“How do you spell ‘extracurricular?’’ You ask him. 

“What are you even writing?” He snatches your phone out of your grasp. His eyes skim the message to find that it’s entirely incoherent and riddled with spelling errors that you’d be mortified to find in the morning. He deletes it all and slips your phone into his pocket. “You’ll thank me for that tomorrow.” 

You roll your eyes but don’t object, which is a win in Gojo’s book. After a moment, you speak again. “Do ya think people had fun tonight?” Your voice is soft and he can tell you’re a little lost in your thoughts. 

“Doesn’t matter if anyone else had fun. All that matters is whether or not you did.” He raises an eyebrow. “Did you?” 

“Did you ?” You tap your fingernails against the table. “I know I’m not…” You deflate, some sort of criticism of yourself lost on your lips, and Gojo needs to rectify this. 

He slots his fingers between yours. “Of course I’m having fun! Wouldn’t be here with you if I wasn’t.” You smile because you know he means it. He’s not the sort of person to waste his time. 

“Order eighty three!” The cashier calls out, and Gojo’s hand slips from yours as he stands to get your food. 

The girl at the counter’s face goes pink as he approaches. She hands him the paper bag and asks, “Need anything else?” 

“A few napkins, please.” You’re a messy eater when you’re drunk. 

The girl pulls napkins out from under the counter, but before she slides them over, she takes out a pen and scrawls a phone number on one of them. Gojo’s used to this sort of thing. He flashes the girl a smile as he takes the napkins and heads back to you. He has no intention of calling her. 

Still, all it takes is one look at your face and he knows that you’ve seen the whole exchange. Your lips are turned down into a frown, and you stare angrily up at him. He ignores you as he pulls the food out of the bag. 

When he’s sitting back down again, your hand snakes behind his neck, pulling him into a kiss. It’s loose tongues and bumping teeth and perhaps a little inappropriate for such an establishment, but it invigorates him. Electricity rumbles through his veins, setting his body alight. He’d known kissing you was going to be dangerous—even pressing his lips to your cheek or forehead fogs his mind for a few seconds, but it’s a drug that only gets better and better. 

You pull away first. The kiss couldn’t have lasted for more than a few seconds, but he can see the flush on your face and how swollen your lips look from his teeth nipping against them. He grins. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous!” You protest, shoving french fries into your mouth. “Ish just annoying, you know? How hard is it to make the educated assumption that a man an’ woman sitting together in a burger place at almost two in the morning are dating?” 

Drunk you is far more outward with her jealousy, and he loves it. Thrives off it, in fact. 

You bite into your burger. “Wish we had rings,” You say, more to yourself than him. “That way everybody’d know.” 

He stiffens. Is this something you’ve been thinking about? The two of you had only been officially dating for a few months, but he’d considered himself yours for years. The thought of marrying you crosses his mind at least once a day, but he’d kept quiet for fear of spooking you. You’re someone who works through things in their own time. See the last thirteen years as an example. 

Gojo ignores what you’ve just said, more for your sake than his, but he files it away. The two of you will come back to that later. Preferably when he’s had time to stop by a jeweler. 

Faces stuffed and bellies full, you leave the burger place and head back down the street to Gojo’s car. He’s got a hand wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling as you walk. You’ve become rather quiet, drifting into that sleepy drunk phase now that you’ve eaten. The night is drawing to a close. 

Gojo helps you into his car, buckling you in because your hands keep fumbling. As he slides into the driver seat he asks, “Your place or mine?” 

Your answer surprises him. “Can we go to your house, please?” You slump in your seat so you can lean into him. “Your pillows smell like you.” 

“Anything for the birthday girl,” He says as he pulls onto the street, and you give a tired cheer. 

You don’t come over to Gojo’s house very often. Not because you don’t like it, but because he’s never there. He’s usually at Jujutsu High or traveling, so he only really sees his place when he’s going to sleep. And since you got together, he’s been choosing to do that at yours. 

Although it’s smaller than his, he likes your place a lot more. It’s lived-in, curated with care, and it feels so wholeheartedly like you that even before you admitted your feelings for him, it felt more like home than his own. 

You’re nearly asleep by the time he pulls up to the building. He helps you inside, greeting the late-night doorman with a nod before guiding you into the elevator. “Seventeenth floor,” You say, proud of yourself for remembering, and he smiles at you. 

“You stalking me or something?” You giggle as his arms encircle your waist, his fingers playfully tickling your sides. 

Gojo’s home is a penthouse apartment, so the elevator opens directly into it. It’s private, which means that even though the rest of his building is filled with wealthy elites, his floor can only be accessed by a single elevator with a passcode. It fills you with pride that you’re one of only two people that know it. 

You slip off your shoes and toss your coat on the rack like you own the place, but before you can make your way towards the bed, Gojo drags you into the kitchen. He fills a glass of water for you and takes a bottle of Tylenol from the cabinet. 

“Drink,” He orders as he presses it to your lips. You try to take the cup but he won’t let you, so you’re stuck staring up at him as he force-hydrates you. Once you’re finished, he fills it up again and makes you take the painkillers. 

You’re onto the bathroom next. “‘M not letting you give me a bath,” You tell him. 

“Of course not,” He scoffs. “That’s a tomorrow activity.” And despite your glare, there’s still a hint of a smile on your face. 

He opens a cabinet and pulls out makeup wipes, and you spot a multitude of other feminine products. They’ve likely been left here over time, or he purchased them to make sure his guests were more comfortable. It doesn’t send off warning bells to see it. Instead it just carves a little into the darkest part of your heart, where the regret of not doing any of this sooner lives. 

“Did it make you sad, too?” You ask as he gently wipes the makeup from your face. He raises an eyebrow. “When I’d sleep with people who weren’t you.” 

Gojo’s always had a bit of a reputation for being a manwhore, and it had always confused you how he could declare his undying love for you and then bring random hookups back to his house. It wasn’t until you accepted your feelings for him that you realized he was doing the same thing you were: searching for each other in the embrace of strangers. You can’t even count how many times you’ve had to hold your tongue to avoid calling out his name when sleeping with people you pretended were him. 

Gojo’s smile wavers slightly, and he clears his throat as he avoids your gaze. His eyes hold infinity and all of his emotions, and he knows that nobody can read him better than you. “Yeah,” He agrees, his voice just a bit hoarse. “Yeah, it made me sad, too.” 

He lets you finish scrubbing the last of your eye makeup, and stands in the doorway as you wash your face and brush your teeth. He brings you one of his tshirts to wear as pajamas (he is a man, after all), and once you’re all clean he brings you to his bed. It’s not nearly as comfortable as yours, unfortunately, but Gojo enjoys the way you sigh happily once you have his comforter wrapped around you. You’re asleep within seconds. 

He doesn’t go to bed just yet, though. You don’t have any clothes at his house to wear the next day, so he does a bit of online shopping. You’re going to hate him for spending so much money on you. However will he endure it? 

It’s a few hours later and Gojo’s just finished checking out at the third store when you start to stir. He pauses, waiting to see if you’ll fall back asleep, but then you’re standing up and wobbling into his ensuite bathroom. You slam the door shut behind you, and it’s the clicking of the lock that indicates to him that something’s wrong. 

He knocks against the door, calling your name. You’re quiet, but he can hear your sniffles. He imagines that you’re crying over the toilet. “Can I come in?” 

You unlock the door for him and his heart melts at how absolutely pitiful you look. Tears are welling in your eyes and streaking down your cheeks, and you try to wipe them away as he sits down next to you but they just keep coming. “I can’t—” You hiccup, “I feel so sick but it won’t, I don’t want to—” You shake your head. 

“I think you’ve got to force it this time,” Gojo says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. More tears fall at the prospect. You hate throwing up. You don’t like doing it, and if you didn’t feel so horrible right now you’d probably just ride through the nausea until it passed. Sadly, it was so uncomfortable that it woke you. “Do you want me to help you?” 

You frown at him. “I’m not going to ask you to stick a finger down my throat.” 

“I’d do it for you,” And that makes you laugh. He presses a kiss to your temple and gathers your hair in one hand. “Come on, you can do it,” He encourages. “I’m right here.” 

You inhale a deep breath and reach your finger as far back as it’ll go. Your gag reflex triggers and suddenly you’re throwing up into the toilet, and more tears start streaming down your face. You hate this feeling. Hate it hate it hate it. 

But Gojo’s there, as promised, and his large hands smooth over your shoulders to soothe you as he keeps your hair out of your face. “Let it out. You’ll feel so much better once it’s over.” 

You stay there for a while, and once you’re certain there’s nothing left in your stomach, Gojo helps you clean up. You’re tired and still a bit drunk, so you cry as you apologize to him. He shushes you and wipes your face with a damp washcloth, and makes you brush your teeth again. 

He doesn’t have to, but he carries you back to bed. He doesn’t let go as he turns off the lights, nor as he settles between the sheets. He holds you firmly to him and you don’t protest. 

“Do you feel better?” He says into the darkness, and you nod against his shoulder. 

--- --- --- --- ---

The next morning, you regret absolutely everything . 

As much as you’d have liked to spend the day sleeping, at precisely six in the morning, Ijichi calls to tell the both of you that you’re needed at Jujutsu High. You let Gojo handle most of the talking, since you can’t be bothered to leave the shroud of blanket you’ve surrounded yourself with. 

“No need to call (Y/N),” Gojo says, “She’s right next to me! I’ll let her know.” With that, he hangs up, and uses a finger to lift the blanket just slightly so he can see you. “Ijichi said we need to go to the school.” 

“I heard,” You say. Gojo had been kind enough to put him on speaker. 

“He said Yaga would like us there in an hour.” 

“I heard .” 

“I told him he didn’t need to call you since you spent the night.” 

You huff, flinging the covers off of you so you can stand up, which only exacerbates your headache more. “If this is your way of annoying me out of bed, you’re doing phenomenally.” You storm off, slamming the bathroom door shut and locking it. You turn on the shower and Gojo’s at the door, knocking. 

“Hey! I thought you were gonna let me give you a bath!” The handle rattles. “I have to get ready too, y’know!” 

“Use the guest bathroom!” You shout back as you step beneath the sweet relief of hot water. 

If you’re with Gojo, you’re going to be late anyway, so the both of you take your time getting ready. His online purchases are carried up by the staff, clean and ready for you to use, and you only snip at him a teensy bit for spending money on you. You’re thankful that you don’t have to greet your peers in last night’s outfit. 

You fix yourself a cup of coffee to drink on the way, but as soon as you and Gojo step outside, the bright, sunny day blinds you. Had you become a vampire in the middle of the night? You scowl, raising your hand to block out the sun’s rays, but it’s no use. 

Gojo maneuvers around you to block out the light, but his teasing grin is just as annoying to look at. “Something wrong?” 

“Shut up,” You grumble. “Why’s it so goddamn bright?” You don’t think you can last another second in this light. 

Gojo snickers. “All these years and you haven’t learned your limits.” 

“I can still kick your ass, hungover or not.” You pull him back into the shadows. “Give me your sunglasses.” He raises an eyebrow from beneath his blindfold. “It’s not like you’re going to use them today, anyway. Let me borrow them.” 

He pulls them from his pocket and you unfold them, placing them onto your face. You exhale as you step back into the light. “Much better!” You toss him a smile over your shoulder. “Ready?” 

Gojo needs approximately five seconds to gather himself. He knows he looks great in his glasses, but he’d vehemently argue that they look even better on you. Seeing you wear his stuff always does something to him, but the sunglasses? 

He thinks of cold showers, grandmothers, and sour foods to keep himself from imagining how you might look wearing his sunglasses and nothing else.

#writing #fluff #romance #silly gooses #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jjk #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen

[poisednihil]

guys.

GUYS.

I was listening to My Chemical Romance (like the good ol' emo I was am) and realized that Nanami didn't get to see them come back because he died exactly the year before-

Excuse me while I go cry in a corner

#kento nanami #kento nanami headcanons #kento nanami i miss u #my chemical romance #you would have loved their Halloween reunion announcement #mcr #gerard way #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader

[strawmariee]

Pamper Day

Nanami Kento x Leitora

O barulho da porta sendo destrancada ecoa por aquela casa relativamente silenciosa, e em seguida um suspiro de exaustão escapa dos lábios de Nanami quando ele finalmente finaliza mais um dia cansativo em seu trabalho. O loiro senta-se no sofá, apoiando a nuca no encosto do móvel enquanto encara a luz recém-ligada da sala de estar, suas únicas companhias naquele momento sendo os barulhos de motos e carros na rua e de sua respiração pesada e lenta.

— Querido, você finalmente apareceu! Estava ficando preocupada. — A doce voz de sua esposa vindo ao longe fez com que o homem sorrisse automaticamente. Logo, seus olhos se voltam para a mulher que descia as escadas de uma maneira que faziam ele suspirar como um homem apaixonado por dentro.

— Sinto muito querida, eu acabei ficando um pouco mais no trabalho.

S/N apenas sorri antes de ficar em pé atrás dele no sofá, se inclinando o suficiente para deixar um casto beijo na testa de Nanami, que ainda tinha aquele sorriso em meio ao seu rosto cansado.

— Você parece realmente exausto, meu amor. Por que não vai tomar um banho para descansar o corpo enquanto eu preparo o jantar, hum? — ela diz com aquela voz delicada e suave, que parecia o canto de uma sereia aos ouvidos do loiro que apenas assentiu antes de se levantar do sofá e subir as escadas, não sem antes dar um rápido beijo no topo da cabeça dela, como ela tinha feito antes com ele.

Nanami caminhou em direção ao banheiro e assim que abriu a porta, ele se deparou com o cômodo iluminado por algumas velas espalhadas e, a banheira estava com a superfície totalmente cheia de espuma, e o cheiro de lavanda perfumando o local fez com que um sorriso doce e raro aparecesse em seus lábios.

— Esse sorriso… — A voz em um tom sedoso e suave aparece ao lado do loiro e ele rapidamente olha para a direção do som, vendo sua esposa o olhando totalmente fascinada. — Você traria muito mais felicidade para sua linda esposa se continuasse a mostrar ele!

Nanami soltou uma baixa risada nasal enquanto entra no banheiro, sendo acompanhada por ela.

— Você já tinha isso tudo planejado? — ele perguntou ao mesmo tempo que começa a retirar sua gravata de trabalho, antes de ser interrompido quando um par de pequenas e delicadas mãos substituem as dele.

— Sim, eu andei percebendo que você tem andado bastante esgotado… E aproveitei que hoje você se atrasou para preparar esse banho e mimar o meu marido um pouco! — ela logo usa a gravata para puxar o rosto dele em uma altura suficiente para ela plantar um beijo em sua bochecha.

Kento apenas ri um pouco enquanto sente os lábios macios de sua esposa contra sua bochecha antes dela voltar a retirar a gravata dele, em seguida desabotoando a camisa social dele e tirando um proveito para admirar o corpo esculpido à sua frente, se sentindo a mulher mais sortuda do mundo naquele momento por aquela visão.

Depois de alguns minutos, o loiro finalmente entra em contato com a água morna, sentindo os músculos tensos relaxando quase que de imediato. Ele solta um suspiro calmo enquanto deita a cabeça na cabeceira da banheira, sentindo uma serenidade que seu corpo tanto precisava.

Logo um sorriso se estendeu em seus lábios quando sentiu a presença de sua amada atrás de si, o abraçando pelos ombros e enchendo sua bochecha com pequenos beijos, a maciez de seus lábios contra sua pele faziam com que o loiro se arrepiasse.

— Agora Nanamin, é a hora de mimar você, meu lindo e perfeito marido. — a voz aveludada dela o chamando por aquele apelido que ele havia sido “batizado” fez com que ele apenas assentisse, deixando-se ser cuidado e tratado pela mulher que tanto ama.

S/N então derrama o sabonete líquido na palma de sua mão e começa a massagear os braços volumosos dele, sentindo a firmeza de seus músculos contra sua mão e escutando um gemido baixinho de satisfação saindo dos lábios do loiro. Ela em seguida correu as mãos até o seu peitoral, aproveitando a oportunidade de fazer um “fon fon” e arrancando uma leve risada de Nanami que abriu seus olhos.

— Você nunca perde uma única chance de fazer isso, né? — Nanami não estava surpreso pela atitude dela, e até mesmo acha um pouco engraçado o quanto ela parecia adorá-lo como se ele fosse algum tipo de divindade. — Não é o suficiente já usá-lo como travesseiro?

— Nunca é o suficiente querido.

Ela diz antes de beijar a mandíbula dele e voltar a ensaboar ele, descendo as mãos até seu abdômen e sentindo ele agora descansando a cabeça contra o ombro dela, com aquele mesmo sorriso tranquilo em seus lábios.

S/N aproveita e até mesmo começa a lavar os cabelos dele, passando o shampoo e massageando sua cabeça em movimentos circulares, arrancando outro suspiro de Kento que parecia estar no paraíso naquele momento, com todo aquele cuidado e mimo que estava recebendo.

— Nanamin, será que nós podemos ter um tempinho para nós dois amanhã? Eu sei que o seu trabalho é importante para você, mas… Eu queria ficar um pouco mais com você.

Nanami respirou fundo enquanto abre os olhos e encara o teto como se buscasse por respostas que estivessem escritas ali, mas claro que não estariam. Ele estava consciente de que estava negligenciando um tempo importante com sua esposa, um tempo que ele poderia estar em sua cama king size, abraçado com ela enquanto assistem a um filme clichê de comédia e escuta as reclamações dela em vez de estar em uma mesa de escritório tarde da noite, forçando sua visão enquanto vê letras e números na tela brilhosa do computador.

Ele então vira seu rosto na direção dela, observando aqueles olhos (C/O), que ainda o hipnotizam do mesmo jeito que quando eles começaram a namorar.

— O que eu não faço por você? — ele diz e logo o sorriso de S/N alarga-se antes dela o abraçar mais uma vez, não se importando com a espuma do shampoo ficando em sua bochecha.

— Oh meu querido… Você é simplesmente maravilhoso! Já tenho tudo planejado: Vamos acordar bem cedo, tomar um delicioso café da manhã juntos, almoçar naquele restaurante próximo daqui de casa, ficar em nossa cama assistindo a algum filme, depois sair para um piquenique e-

Nanami então tirou proveito da distração dela e se inclinou na direção dela, roubando um beijo rápido mas afetuoso, sorrindo um pouco mais quando viu a feição surpresa e em como ela havia se tornado uma bagunça corada.

— Tudo bem, faremos tudo o que você quiser, minha querida esposa.

O tom de voz dele e o modo como ele a chamou fez com que a mente dela ficasse em branco e a única reação que ela teve foi esconder o rosto corado contra o ombro dele, o que resultou em uma risada baixa do loiro que apenas plantou mais um beijo na cabeça dela.

— Eu estava pensando… E talvez nós possamos fazer alguma viagem no nosso aniversário de casamento? — A voz dele chamou a atenção de sua amada, que ergueu o rosto para encarar aqueles lindos olhos castanhos.

— É uma ótima ideia! Quem sabe podemos ir para a Malásia, descansar enquanto nos abraçamos e observamos o sol sumir no horizonte?

— Você tem uma imaginação bastante fértil, querida.

Kento diz antes de sua mão esquerda acariciar a dela, observando as duas alianças juntas e brilhando graças a luz de uma das velas, próxima dos dois. Só de imaginar em estar na Malásia com a mulher dos seus sonhos, enquanto eles passeiam e conhecem os pontos turísticos da região ou vão para a praia construir castelos de areia e até trocar beijos com sua esposa enquanto eles estão naquele mar tão cristalino e azul que podia se ver tudo, desde os peixes até pequenos corais e algas, aceleravam os batimentos cardíacos dele.

— Eu sou apenas uma romântica incurável, não tenho culpa.

Ela diz e logo pega um pouco da espuma da banheira e a usa para desenhar um bigode em seu rosto, rindo com o resultado. Este, no entanto, resolveu entrar em sua brincadeira e usou a espuma para desenhar um pequeno coração na bochecha dela, que ficou vermelho graças ao ruborizar dela.

— E é uma das pequenas coisas que me faz amá-la, S/N.

A mulher suspirou enquanto sentia o seu coração acelerar de uma maneira descontrolada, mais uma vez escondendo seu rosto no ombro dele enquanto ele entrelaçava as mãos dos dois e colocando a dela em seu peito, onde ela conseguiu sentir o coração dele.

E aquela maneira sutil de mostrar que ele a ama, a fazia se sentir muito mais especial, e muito mais enfeitiçada por Nanami Kento.

#jjk fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #reader insert #jujustu kaisen #fluff #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #post in portuguese #strawmariee writes #romance #fanfic

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?” 

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 

You glance at the time. 11:56am. 

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.” 

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?” 

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands? 

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #geto suguru #gojo satoru angst #nanami kento #choso kamo #series #yaga masamichi #alternate universe #college #college au #soccer #sports au #fraternity #sorority #tw drinking #partying #anime #romance #smut #fluff #angst #jjk smut #long fic #jjk series #ongoing series

[angieshere16]

What's Done is Done

TW: gore/substance abuse/ self harm/ physical violence/ implied smut

My boyfriend walks in holding bags of groceries and placing them on the dining table. I stride happily over to him, engulfing him in a warm, loving hug. He's so perfect and sweet. My sweet boy. I kiss his cheek softly then proceed to kiss his lips, tasting weed on his breath.

"Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you gone to buy anything special?"

He cocks his head lazily, looking at me through half lidded eyes and repeats back to me slowly,

"Something special?"

"Something special."

His eyes travel from looking at me to gazing at the bags he left on the table, deciding whether or not he should answer. He reaches the table in two strides, grabbing a plastic bag and handing it to me carefully.

"Look inside if you want darling, I don't mind." he tells me.

I rummage through papers wrapped around a box. I carefully unwrap and open the box. It's filled with smaller bags. They contain joints, carts, gummies, and pills. I see a small bag filled with gummy worms that had been torn open.  My eyes shift from staring at the contents of the gummy bag to staring into my partner's eyes. His beautiful colored eyes, staring calmly back at me. 

“You bought all this?” I inquire and he only nods his head in response before saying,

“Your birthday’s soon, and I wanted to have a little fun, ya know?” sounding as if what he wants to do is the most ordinary thing in the world.

I stare at his face, taking in every feature, his thin lips, the stubble growing on his face, the pretty hair atop his head, his perfect button nose, and returning my gaze to his intoxicatingly gorgeous eyes once more. He breaks the silence with a question.

“Want me to make dinner for us?”

I crack a smile at the absolute randomness of his question

“Nah. I don’t wanna wash dishes tonight.”

“So, Pizza?”

“Pizza sounds great.” I reply looking at his eyes, which crinkle slightly as he smiles. His pretty eyes that make him seem like such an innocent man, someone who can do no harm. 

We call the nearest pizza place on his phone, ordering one medium sized pizza. Once the call ends he walks into our room to leave his phone charging. I plop down on the sofa near the door and take my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through my social media apps. Not too long later, I feel his arms wrap around my torso, and I lean back into his comforting frame, turning my head to kiss his neck innocently. He rests his chin on top of my head, caressing my face with his thumb, rubbing circles into the fat of my hip with his other hand. I turn to stare at the door, shifting my weight slightly from the edge of the couch. I feel hot, but I stay still, my body on top of his, both of us just enjoying one another’s presence. I close my eyes slowly, feeling relaxed, having my boyfriend right next to me. Once I begin to doze off, I hear a knock at the door. My head perks up at the thought of food finally arriving. I grin and race to the door, opening it hurriedly. A short stout man holds out the pizza box and his hand, waiting for his tip. I grab my wallet and pay him five dollars, then I grab the pizza box and close the door, lock it, and parade over to the table. Nick is already sitting in his seat, waiting for a slice. I put down the pizza box and sit down next to him, opening the pizza box quickly and reaching for a slice just as fast. The second I take a bite I can't help but smile and close my eyes, letting the flavor sink in, seeping onto my taste buds. 

“This is delicious”

“Pizza hits better after a long day.”

“Real.”

We finish the pizza in no time. Nick grabs the box and throws it into the trash. 

“C’mon baby, let's go.” He says, grabbing a stray joint that lay inside his box of drugs. He wanders the hallway, dragging his fingers along the walls. I follow him as he strolls into our room. When he lays down on the ground, I sit next to him and ask him if he’s okay.

“Yeah yeah” he says, dismissing me with a wave. “You don’t gotta worry a pretty little hair on your head about me. I’m just a little up in the clouds from the gummies I took earlier.”

“Then wouldn’t it be bad if you smoke the joint?”

He chuckles, deep and heartily. Dismissing me once more. He sighs happily and grabs a lighter from his cabinet without shifting his gaze from me. 

“You’re such an innocent little lamb, you know that?” he says, smiling once more as he brings the joint to his lips, flicking the lighter once, twice before producing a small flame which he holds to the end of his spliff. It lights up for a second before the flame dies and leaves a ring of heat at the end of his spliff. I close my eyes as smoke fills the room, the familiar scent of weed traveling through my nostrils and into my lungs. I open my eyes and lock my gaze with my boyfriend. 

“Do you want to try?” He asks.

“No thank you” I replied sweetly.

“C’mon, just a puff,” he says. “It won’t hurt.”

I shift my sober eyes from his crimson ones to the ground, feeling timid all of a sudden. 

“I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to try. Isn’t it bad for your lungs?”

“That’s complete bullshit. I’ve been smoking for years and my lungs are fine.”

I continue to avoid eye contact and stare at a random spot on the ground. 

“Well?” he says. “Gonna try or what? I promise it’s fun.”

I look at him and take the smoking joint in between my two fingers, inhaling and immediately choking on the smoke. I hold it between my index and middle finger while I pound my fist onto my chest, trying to get rid of the feeling of choking. I breathe heavily, panting, I push the joint into his large hands, still coughing from the smoke I inhaled. He laughs at me, calling me names like cute and precious. 

“It’s not funny!” I say, feeling embarrassed that I could barely hold down just a little puff off the joint.

“Whatever you say darling.” he retorts, beaming at me smugly. A few moments of silence pass before he speaks again.

“One more try?”

“I dunno..” I reply to him. 

“C’mon baby, don’t be a killjoy” he says, flashing a calm, carefree smile. “C’mere” he says.

And I do. I go scoot closer to him on the ground, sitting right next to him so that our thighs are touching and we are side by side. He cups my face in his large strong hands and rubs comforting circles into my cheek.

“Close your eyes my love” he tells me.

I close my eyes slowly, and feel him pepper kisses all over my face. He kisses my cheeks, my forehead, and there’s a pause. He thumbs at my lips and I pout, letting him tug softly on my bottom lip down so that my mouth opens. I feel his lips against mine and he exhales, pushing smoke into my mouth as his tongue pushes in as well, tasting the inside of my mouth. I inhale, trying not to choke. My eyes are watering from the itch in the back of my throat, and I cough as I pull away from him. I see smoke spilling out from my mouth and nostrils, curling away from me and eventually blending in with the air above me. Another smug smile coats his face. He seems satisfied. 

“See? Was that really so hard darling?” a shit eating grin still on his face.

My face is burning red from our exchange and small coughs spill from my mouth while the burning in my throat begins to fade slowly. I open my mouth to speak, but I stop. I don’t know what to say. Should I be happy, relaxed, angry, or sad? 

“Cat got your tongue?” he asks me cockily. 

I look at him slowly after a few moments as I stand up slowly, teetering dizzily.  “Am I high?” I ask, wondering what this foreign feeling is.

“High as high can be.” he says, chuckling as he puts the joint to his lips again. 

I sit down and lean into him. “I don’t wanna stand anymore.”

“That’s okay. You can go ahead and sit with me for as long as you want pretty little thing.” He says, smoke spilling out from his lips and up into the air. I stare at the smoke, feeling dazed and turn to look at my pretty boy’s face. His pretty eyes and soft hair bouncing on his head when he turns away from the smoke to face me. We both lock eyes and we stare at each other.

“You look so pretty like this, my innocent little lamb, facing me with red in your eyes like I’m the most important thing to exist.” He tells me, slurring his words slightly as he speaks. “My pretty girl.” he says through his half lidded eyes, facing me while he sucks on his joint and all I can do is nod in agreement. He grins idiotically as I crawl into his lap, leaning my head into the crook of his neck. “Such a good girl. You must love me dearly to seek comfort in me.” He says while his hands wander up and down my back, tracing my skin gently as if I might break if he’s too rough with me. I sit up and look into his eyes, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. He looks down and then makes eye contact with me. “You know I love you, right my sweetness?” He asks.

“I love you too.” I say, feeling my chest bubble with happiness. I have the most perfect boyfriend in the world, don’t I? I sigh happily as he kisses me, pressing his lips gently against mine, treating me as if I may break at any moment. I feel something poke me just where I was sitting and I grin shyly. I break away from him and begin to kiss his neck, sucking roughly, leaving blue and purple marks on his skin as I grind on his lap. His head faces the ceiling as he moans softly, giving me more room to paint his skin from a light peach to a dark violet. I pull away to observe the markings littered on his neck and he lowers his chin, coming face to face with me. He holds my face in between his hands and mutters praises that my high mind can’t comprehend. I just want to feel good, and what's making me feel good right now is sitting on my boyfriend's lap, rubbing my cunt against his hardness. He puts out the joint on an ashtray I didn’t notice before and kisses me roughly. I let my eyes shut and let him kiss me. The harsh feeling isn’t unpleasant. I feel one of his hands rest on my waist and the other massaging my lower back, sinking lower and lower until he’s cupping my ass in his hands. I let him. When he starts to unbutton my shorts and stick his hand inside my panties, I push him away.

“I can’t. I’m sorry I don’t want to do that.”

“C’mon baby, it’ll be fun. I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.” He says, continuing to rub his hand up and down my arm in an attempt to convince me. I hesitate for a moment and he takes it as a sign to keep going. He goes under my shirt, trying to unclip my bra, and I push him again.

“Babe, I don’t want to. Stop, please” urgency rising in my voice.

He stands still for a few moments, pushing me off his lap and mumbles something about getting gummies from the box and I nod my head. While I stare at the ground, feeling ashamed for not being ready for anything more than kissing and groping, I notice the lighter he used earlier thrown on the floor. I grab it and flick it under my fingers. It lights up under my fingers and I stare at the flame for a moment and bring it to my arm, holding it close enough to hurt a bit before letting it go off. I stand up slowly, frowning at what I just did and head to the bathroom, going into the cabinet in the corner and opening up the bottom drawer. I toss in the lighter, but I don’t close the cabinet. I see a polaroid, and my wavering eyes focus on it. Blood. It’s a bloody body, torn apart, limb from limb, cut up into slices that make them look like meat. I see Nick in the corner of the photo, splotches of blood on his face, smudged with sweat while he smiles that stupid shit eating grin, pointing a knife at the body. My hands begin to shake as I grab the picture. I feel overwhelmed and I gag, feeling nauseous. My legs tremble beneath me as I turn around, seeing Nick, standing menacingly behind me. His eyes no longer half lidded, but fully focused on me, like a hawk watches its prey.

“You gonna say something, pretty girl?” He says, his voice sounding hard with anger.

“Did you do this..?” I ask, my voice trembling with fear.

“What do you think? Hm?” He says, his eerie smile growing.

“Please tell me this is some stupid prank you came up with!”

He chuckles with a laugh that makes my hairs stand on end. “Okay then. Let’s pretend that you didn’t see that, understand? Just a dumb prank, right?”

I start hyperventilating as I can’t wrap my head around my boyfriend killing someone. One tear falls from my eye which leads to more flowing like a small river from my eyes. I grasp at my hair, trying to rip it from my scalp, digging into the skin, trying to take out the thought of the person I love being capable of such evil. My stomach churns and I continue crying, feeling dizzy, slow, and overwhelmed. I stumble towards the toilet and retch into it, talking to myself in an attempt to soothe my nerves.

“This isn’t real. I’m high, I must be hallucinating. I have to be hallucinating.”

He snatches the bloody polaroid from my fingers and dangles it in my face. “Oh honey, this is no dream.” he says, lifting my chin with his finger. “There is no weed that I know of that can make you hallucinate.” 

I pull away from his fingers, not wanting the hands of a murderer to be anywhere near me. “Don’t touch me.” I hiss at him, my voice laced with disgust and anger. I stand up and he pulls away from me, taking a step back and smiling such an evil smile that it gives me chills.

“So now what are you going to do? Hm? Leave me and run away?” He says sarcastically, not meaning a word of what he said, almost like I have no choice in the matter.

“Exactly that” I retort. “The second I’m out of here I’m reporting you to the police.” I tell him, with hatred in my eyes. “You’re a demon straight from hell. You feel no guilt in taking the soul of an innocent person.”

He moves away from the doorway. “Go ahead and leave. Go ahead and tell the police that I’m a killer. Who are they going to believe, the friendless girl working a dreadfully stressful job, or the friendly man who works hard every day, never late, always doing overtime, and making sure to be gentle, even with the worst of the worst? Hm?” he asks, eerie laughs spilling from his lips, filling my ears with dreadful sound.

I make a bolt for the door, but he sticks out a hand blocking me from exiting. 

He whispers softly into my ear, “I’m gonna tell you your options and you’re gonna choose very carefully, understand?”

I look up at him, sweat dripping down my face, body trembling in fear, eyes welling up with tears again.

He speaks cool and calmly. “Either you’re going to stay in our house, pretending like nothing happened, both of us living out our days happily, or you try and go to the police, tell them what you saw, and they’ll tell you you’ve finally snapped for accusing such a nice guy for such a horrid crime, after all, her only parent, her dear sweet mother, died in a brutal car accident and she’s working nights at a shitty gas station with shitty customers.” He pauses for a moment “Then I’ll find you. I’ll take you back to this house we’re standing in, and lock you in the basement after breaking your legs.” I swallow back the buildup in the back of my throat. “After about a week missing, everyone will think you’ve killed yourself, jumped off a bridge of some sort and died after going crazy, when really, you’ll just be with me, giving me each and every thing I might ever desire.”

If I was trembling before, you should see me now. I stand, frozen in terror and he puts down his arm, no longer blocking the bathroom door. My eyes shift slowly from his face, to the door, trying to decide what I’m going to do..

#part one #drug abuse #psycho #abuse #fanfiction #horror #romance #horrorromance #smutwarning #straight #bakugou smut #mha #mha smut #deku smut #yandere #yandere bakugou #yandere boyfriend #yandere deku #self insert #y/n #bnha #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #nanami smut #nanami kento #geto #geto smut

[darknight3904]

Waiting For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʟʟ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴊᴊᴋ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ 2 ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ. ᴄᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ/ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ. ɴᴀᴏʙɪᴛᴏ ᴢᴇɴɪɴ. ꜰᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴍɪɴɢ. ᴏᴜᴛᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴢᴇɴɪɴ ᴄʟᴀɴ ɪᴅᴇᴀʟꜱ

ɪᴛꜱ ꜱʜɪʙᴜʏᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ;)

ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴢᴇɴɪɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8.4ᴋ (ɪ'ᴍ ʟᴏᴏꜱɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀʀʙʟᴇꜱ)

ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀᴅ ʜᴇʜᴇ.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

2018

June

"You have to be kidding me." You sigh as you let your boys into the house.

"I'd never. I'm always serious when it comes to you. Megumi, call Shoko. She can patch you up." Gojo smiles waving the boy off

"Are you okay? I can call her. Satoru's overpowered self doesn't know what real pain feels like." You glare at your boyfriend

"I'm fine. Just watch over Itadori." Megumi says slowly walking off in the direction of his room he hasn't been inside for months since moving into the dorms at Jujutsu High

"So this... pink-haired, normal kid ate Sukuna's finger?" You ask in disbelief as you watch Megumi walk off.

"Yup. I think he's even got potential as a vessel." Gojo says motioning to the unconscious child he's holding like a sack of potatoes.

"Satoru, a finger is one thing. Twenty is a whole different story." You warn

"Did I mention he can swap with Sukuna at will?" Gojo asks

"What?" You stop in your tracks

"Cool, right? I asked him to give me ten seconds with the King of Curses and ten seconds later, Itadori here was back in control of his body." Gojo explains

"And Sukuna is okay with this?" You ask

"Oh, I doubt it. There's something special about this kid for sure though. Plus he seems like he'd be a great friend to Megumi. Seriously, that kid's so quiet sometimes I swear he's a statue or something." Gojo points out

"I'll ignore what you just said about Megumi for now. But, you realize what the higher-ups will say about your master plan to get Megumi a new best friend." You remind Gojo.

"Yeah, yeah...according to regulations he should be executed. Didn't know you were such a fan of theirs." Gojo teases

"I'm not and I know you're not either. Which is what makes your decisions so dangerous. Running around doing whatever you please will get someone hurt." You remind him

"Damn, you're a buzzkill. Too much time with Nanamin will do that to you though. We'll have to have a date night soon so I can remind you how cool I am." Gojo smiles

"Right, super cool, that's definitely why we're together." You roll your eyes, "Has it ever occurred to you that I genuinely like spending time with Nanami?"

"Well, that's just a bonus. The real reason is obviously my good looks." Gojo grins, pulling at his blindfold to wink at you.

"Wuzz happinin?" A gurgled voice sounds as Itadori struggles out of Gojo's grip and lands on the soft living room rug you had picked out with Tsumiki years ago.

"Oppsie...can't have you waking up yet." Gojo laughs before flicking Itadori's head and watching him fall asleep again

"Well, I'm off to talk to the higher-ups about him. Make sure Megumi actually calls Shoko. He tried going toe to toe with Sukuna before I got there." Gojo smiles

"I can't believe you let Megumi of all people get beat up by Sukuna." You groan walking towards the steps.

"Getting beat up builds character." Gojo reasons as he scoops Itadori back up

"Says the man who has Infinity and can teleport."

"Having him around won't be that bad." You assure the dark-haired boy beside you.

"You're kidding, right? We are talking about the same person right? Because last I checked you just said Itadori would be coming to school here." Megumi asks

"Of course we are. Besides you need friends your own age." You push

"I do have friends," Megumi said sitting down on his bed beside you

"I don't count." You smile "Also, why are you acting so cool all of a sudden? Satoru told me that you didn't want Itadori to die." You smile

"Yeah, I didn't want him to die. I didn't say I wanted him to join the school I went to." He clarifies

"Well, too bad. Satoru got what he wanted and now Itadori is officially a vessel. Of course, his threatening of the higher-ups probably influenced their decision. After all, no one's ever going to be able to beat him so arguing immediately becomes pointless." You say

"Aww talking about me with such fondness in your voice? My heart is warmed." Gojo suddenly cuts in, slowly opening Megumi's dorm door

"What do you want?" Megumi asked

"I'm here to drop off your new best friend." Gojo grins, pushing the door open fully to reveal Itadori, this time conscious.

"Hey, Fushiguro." He smiles with a save

"You had to put his room right next to mine?" Megumi asked

"Of course." You laugh standing up and crossing the room to Gojo and the newest student of Jujutsu High.

"Oh, hello, Zenin-san." Itadori greets

"Hello, Itadori. I hope Satoru has told you everything you need to know about this school." You smile

"Yeah, he was great at explaining everything." Itadori nodded

He definitely missed a bunch of stuff.

"That's great. We'll leave you two to talk. Megumi you should help Itadori unpack his stuff, you'll get to know each other better." You suggest, linking your arm around Gojo's.

"Wow a girl's close to me! I think I'm blushing!" Gojo declares stupidly beside you as he lets you pull him out Megumi's room and down the hallway.

"Is there something wrong with you? Seriously, the more I spend time with you the more I think you were dropped on your head as a baby or something." You groan in annoyance

Itadori watches his new teacher and the good-looking woman disappear down the hall, bickering like an old couple the further away they get. He swears he even hears one of them mention toenails.

"Hey, Fushiguro, they're kinda strange together don't you think?" Itadori asks

"Trust me, you haven't even seen the half of it." Megumi sighs

July

The soft beeping of Satoru's alarm is what greets you most mornings. Normally you'd lie in bed while he showered and then drag yourself downstairs and eat breakfast with him. Instead today, you're greeted with strong arms wrapped around your waist and a barrage of kisses down your neck.

"Good morning," Satoru says, his voice is deep with sleep and his white hair is a mess atop his head

"Mmm...morning." You groan, trying to wiggle away from him so you can stretch.

"Don't leave." Satoru groans

"I won't. I just need to stretch my leg feels funny." You promise

"Fine." He relents, letting go and opening his pretty eyes

"Woah, jumpscare." He says "What the hell happened to you?"

"Shut up. It's all your fault anyway!" You groan, grabbing your pillow to try and suffocate him

Satoru laughs under the pillow and easily pushes you away.

"Sorry, sorry. Guess I got carried away with the hickies last night. It won't happen again." He laughs

"You're a terrible liar." You sigh, reaching across him and snatching up his phone from the nightstand when it dings

"Who is it? Is it our little blessing telling us to stop PDAing in the hallways when you visit the school?" He asks

"You really need to stop calling him a little blessing, even if his name literally means it." You laugh "It's actually Itadori. Apparently, He, Nobara, and Megumi are going out shopping and to a movie later. They wanna know if you wanna tag along." You say

ding!

Bring Zenin-san if she's free too!

"And my presence has also been requested." You smile and tap out a reply

We'll be there at 1!

"They just want me to pay for everything." Gojo scowled

"What's the matter, rich boy? Are your pockets hurting supporting all these teens? You're the one who brings 'em home like they're lost kittens." You tease

"So mean to me! And after I gave you three orgasms last night!" Satoru laughs

"Oh please, I know we're not dating because of my stellar people skills." You remind him, poking at his face as you lie back down next to him, hoping for some cuddling before you have to get up and shower.

"You're right...It's probably your awesome tits that have kept me around for so long."

"Satoru Gojo!"

"I'm sorry but they're really great! It's like one of the first things I noticed about you!"

"Domain Expansion!."

"Wait, I was just joking!! It's also your awesome personality! What're you doing with that pillow? Stay back, demon!!"

"Where the hell are they?" Nobara groans

"Gojo is always late. I don't know why you bothered inviting him." Megumi says, his face still buried in his phone

"Yeah, but I thought since we invited Zenin-san he'd be more punctual." Itadori groans

"Trust me, when those two are together, they're anything but punctual," Megumi warns

"You sure seem to know a lot about them, Fushiguro. What aren't you telling us?" Nobara smirks, nudging her classmate

"Yeah, c'mon Fushiguro, spill the beans. That's the whole reason we invited both of them here. We wanna know what kind of a relationship they have!" Itadori says

"Why does it matter? They're both idiots. Gojo more so but still..." Megumi says

"I happen to think Zenin-san is a very respectable woman who would never stoop so low as to be romantically entwined with Gojo. I mean have you seen him?" Nobara asks

"Yeah, but have you ever seen Gojo without his blindfold? I did one time and he's totally hot! What if Zenin couldn't resist a pretty face?" Itadori countered

"I think she's stronger than that. Besides it'd be kind of crazy if two special-grade sorcerers were dating. They'd be the definition of a power couple!" Nobara says

"Yeah, but wouldn't that make them cooler than they already are?" Itadori asks

"Whatever, I just hope Gojo pays for everyone's snacks at the movie theater." Nobara says

"I'm not a walking ATM machine you know."

"Gojo!" Itadori smiles "Oh and Zenin-san is here! Perfect timing."

"You guys can just ignore him, he'll definitely pay for everyone's food." You smile

"Why are you two always so late?" Megumi asks

"You've known us for how many years Megumi? You should know that Satoru is chronically late." You say

"Wait...how many years have you known him, Zenin-san?" Nobara asks, her detective skills are on point today...

"Huh? Oh, I've known Megumi since he was six." You say as if its obvious

"What?" Nobara asks, clearly shocked

"Yeah, so has Satoru. He's actually the one who met Megumi before me. Brought him back like a little homeless kitten." You say, thinking of the day you met Megumi for the first time.

"You remember Toji Zenin, right?" Gojo asks, the phone crackling slightly as you listen to him

"I mean...vaguely. I think I might've seen him a few times around the clan's estate when I was little." You say

"Right, well he's got these kids..." Gojo trailed off

"So?" You ask, wondering if he could hear your eye roll through the phone

"I'll be there soon. Don't keep me waiting!" Gojo sings before hanging up

You groan, wondering what nonsense he was cooking up this time. Without Geto around Gojo had become a bit of a pain in everyone else's asses. Perhaps he was just lonely without his friend or maybe he really was just that annoying. All you knew was that when Geto was still here, Gojo bothered you a lot less than he did now.

"What the hell is this?" You ask twenty minutes later staring at Gojo and then at the two small kids who are next to him, a boy and a girl

"The kids I was just talking about, duh. Don't you listen? No wonder you have to study so much." Gojo taunts, pushing you out of the way and into your dorm, the kids following close behind. They reminded you of little ducklings following their mom.

If their mom was an 18-year-old white-haired freak of nature that is.

"Where the hell did they come from? You didn't steal them did you?" You ask

"You want a baby-making lesson? How bold, Zenin. I'd rather wait til' marriage though." Gojo laughs

"Can we play with that?" a small voice interjects, Gojo's crass words flying over young minds

You follow the boy's pointing hand to where your Wii console sits in front of your TV.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, knock yourself out." You say "The games are in a bin under my bed."

"They're Toji Zenin's kids. The boy is Megumi and the girl is Tsumiki." Gojo says as he watches them load Mario Kart up on the TV, bickering about who was going to get to play as Yoshi.

"You stole a dead man's children? What the hell is wrong with you?" You groan. These kids should be with the clan leader if they're orphans, not with Gojo.

"I didn't steal them. He basically gave them to me." Gojo defends

"He's dead, Gojo. He can't give anything anymore. Besides you can't just hand kids off like they're watermelons." You say

"Well he was originally going to sell them off to your clan so I'm doing them and him a favor," Gojo says

He's right, he is doing them a favor by keeping them away from the clan. Even now at 17, you can't escape how it ruins your life, just being a Zenin is terrible, especially for the girls.

"Alright well, what're they doing here in my dorm?" You ask

"I was hoping you could help me with them. I don't really know much about kids. Plus you guys are related so at least they'll know one of their relatives this way." Gojo explains

"You're joking, right? Gojo we can't just raise two random kids together." You say "Take them to some government program or something. They shouldn't grow up with sorcerers looking after them."

"Yeah about that...Megumi has the-" Gojo is cut off by a scream of frustration from the TV where the kids are playing

"You can't just let them out whenever you lose! That's not good sportsmanship! " Tsumiki shrieks tossing a pillow at what looks like two puppies that sit next to Megumi

"Holy shit..." You say, your eyes ready to pop out of your head

"Yup. Megumi here's one talented kid. He's got the Ten Shadows Technique. Something your clan is itching to get its hands on." Gojo smiles

You can hear the smugness in his voice as you begrudgingly make up your mind.

"Fine. I'll help. But only for a few years." You say casting a glance at Gojo who just continues to smile

"Why don't you ever tell us anything, Fushiguro?!" Itadori groans "You grew up with two super cool people raising you and didn't say anything?"

"I didn't think you guys would care," Megumi says

"Alright, so you guys are just what? Co-workers who raised Megumi together then?" Nobara asks

"What? No. Well, I guess it technically started that way but now..." You trail off looking at Satoru who tosses an arm around your shoulders

"We're a couple! She couldn't resist my charms!" Gojo says

"I told you, Kugisaki!" Itadori shouts in victory

"Shut up, you idiot!" Nobara groans

You laugh at the first years as they bicker while Megumi watches them in silence.

"Mmm. You're so pretty when you smile like that." Gojo says, his lips tickling your ear as he whispers to you.

"Stop it..." You say, turning away from him

Gojo laughs before pulling you so your back is pressed to his chest. He leans down and gently places a kiss on your ear, then behind it, and then another on the nape of your neck.

"Could you two keep it PG for once in your lives?" Megumi asks, his face is red with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I know you said no more PDA. Can you blame me? She's just so gorgeous. I have to remind her regularly." Gojo smiles

"I think it's kind of cute," Itadori says

"Yeah, Fushiguro stop hating on them....hey what's that on your neck, Zenin-san?" Nobara asks

Shit...the foundation that was covering the marks from last night must've smeared...

"Gross!" Megumi declares getting ready to walk away

"Hey, it's natural! How do you think you came into this world?!" Gojo defends

"Gojo, we didn't create Megumi." You remind him, watching as Nobara and Itadori chase after Megumi.

"You're telling me. No kid of mine would have an attitude like that!" Gojo scoffs

"Yeah, you're right, they'd probably be worse."

August

"You're sure keeping him here isn't going to get anyone else killed?" You ask watching as Itadori messes with Yaga's cursed corpse bear.

"Nah, I had Shoko keep his resurrection off the record. Sukuna sure is unpredictable though." Gojo says

"What about Megumi?" You ask, "He seemed really broken up about Itadori's 'death'. So did Nobara."

"They'll be fine. They didn't know him that long anyway." Gojo waves you off

"Satoru, you of all people should know that it doesn't matter how long you spend with a person. The memories existing are more than enough even if much time hasn't passed." You say, referring to Geto.

"They'll be okay, this isn't permanent. Just til' he gets a bit stronger." Gojo says

Right, getting stronger, is a constant goal for a sorcerer. You look over at Itadori who's just been punched by the bear.

"He has a lot of work cut out for himself. You sigh watching as the bear dances in victory.

"That reminds me...could you give Nanamin a call for me? I wanted to tell him about Yuji myself but he blocked me after I sent him too many memes last year." Gojo says

September

"Utahime-san, we can cut through here. I bet the kids are...who the hell is that?" You ask stopping your pace.

A skinny blonde boy is about 30 feet away, a shiny sword in one hand. His long hair is pulled back and strange pink triangles adorn his under eyes.

"He's human," Utahime warns

"Women! And they're pretty too!" He smiles, the sword in his hand glitters in the light

"Get out of the way." You say, not interested in talking, "I'm busy."

"Wahhh, so mean! That's okay though...."

A flash of blonde hair meets your eyes as he swings at your head.

"Damn, you're slow." You taunt as you move easily out of the way, Utahime close on your tail.

You have to be mindful of her. She's not one for actual fights, she's best with support. Plus, you don't want to find out if there are any more special-grade curses like that tree thing lurking behind any of these buildings. Fighting something like that didn't interest you, especially if it meant you'd have to look after another while doing so.

Maybe you could just annoy this guy into leaving you alone so you could go find the students.

"I don't think you're worth my time. Look at you you're not even clothed properly." You taunt

"You're so fast!" I thought I cut at least one of you!" He smiles

You roll your eyes, whoever this guy is he probably won't just give up. He must not be aware that he's clearly outclassed by you.

"I don't think I should even bother activating my technique to defeat you. You're like a flea on a lion's back, completely invisible." You grin before quickly closing the distance between you and him, delivering a solid right hook to his face.

Ponytail goes flying and lands on the ground, hard.

"Who said you were allowed to hit that hard?" He groaned, holding his injured face.

"I did. When I decided you weren't worth my technique. Now come back over here, I want to hit you again." You say motioning to him

"What kind of person says that?!"

Before you can get another hit in, the veil has been lifted. You squint up at the sky to see Gojo there, clearly surveying what's happening.

"It hasn't even been thirty minutes yet!" Ponytail whines "I guess I'll see you later..."

"Huh?" You turn to the guy only to see him sprinting off. "Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going-"

"Just leave him, He's not worth it, you said it yourself. Besides we should clear the area." Utahime says looking up at Gojo. "I have a feeling that that idiot is about to do something to get rid of that special grade that was in the forest."

October 5, 2018

"Do I really have to be here?" Nanami asked with a tired sigh

"Of course you do. It'll be fun you'll see." You smile at the blonde

"Last time we all went out didn't Gojo throw up on you, Nanami?" Shoko asked

"Yes. That is one of the reasons I don't want to be here." He confirms, his eyes remain fixed on you

"Oh, would you relax...besides Satoru isn't even here right now." You point out.

You wish he'd stop doing that. Nanami was always watching, it kind of felt like if you dud anything embarrassing he'd catch you and tease you for it. Not that he had ever done that...yet.

"Where is he? I thought we all agreed on meeting here at six." Mei Mei says

"Oh, he was given an extra mission today. He shouldn't be too much longer." You say

"If that were me I would've asked for extra pay. Especially if I wasn't given an advanced notice." She says

"I doubt he needs any more money at his disposal." You laugh

"You never know, what if I'm actually broke?" Gojo chimes in as he makes his way towards the table

"Well, then who's been paying all the bills for the past ten years at our place?" You tease as he sits down next to you.

"Megumi. He's got his Shikigami robbing banks for him." Gojo grins

"Yeah, okay." You laugh, shoving at his shoulder.

"Hey wanna play a drinking game? We could all name the things we love about Satoru Gojo!" He suggests like he always does when alcohol is on the table

"No!" Everyone groans in unison.

"Thanks, Nanami." You huff as you slam the passenger side door, effectively trapping Gojo in the car

"Are you sure you'll be able to get him in the house by yourself?" Nanami asks, eyeing the drunk sorcerer who has his entire face pressed up against the window

"I'll be okay...I think. Megumi is at the house with Itadori, they're having a sleepover... Not sure why they couldn't just do that at the dorms. Anyway, I'll just have them help out if I need to." You say

"Alright. I'll see you later then. Goodnight." Nanami says

He's as polite as ever as he walks down the sidewalk to his own car. Somehow you swear Nanami came into the world with good manners and matching clothes on. Seriously, how do all of his outfits always look good?

You turn your back and miss the way Nanami's eyes follow you, wishing you had taken him up on his suggestion for help. Yes, even if it meant dealing with Gojo, he'd do it for you.

"Who knew he was this heavy?" Itadori laughed as he supported Gojo's legs

"It's all those sweets he eats. He's probably secretly 900lbs or something." You groan, "Megumi are you even supporting your side?"

"Of course I am." He says, "Just walk faster, my arm is cramping"

It's an entire ordeal to get Gojo into the house. Megumi and Yuji help you toss him onto the couch before bidding you goodnight. You have a feeling they're just going to lock themselves in Megumi's room and watch horror movies for hours. But hey, what else would you do on a Friday night at 15?

"Nghhh."

Damn, you were hoping he was out for the night.

"Satoru?" You ask, crouching down to be eye level with him as he lays on his side on the couch

"Nanamin?" He asks

"Nope. Guess again." You smile

"Shoko?" He asks

"Wrong." You laugh

"I give up, tell me." He groans, his eyes remained closed as he lay there.

"It's your girlfriend." You say

"Suguru?"

Now you don't know if you should feel insulted or feel bad for him.

"Whatever. Let's get you out of your clothes and put something more comfortable on." You say, pulling his zip up off and reaching for the t-shirt he had underneath.

"Hey!" He suddenly gasps, shooting up so he's sitting upright

"What's wrong?" You ask, concerned

"I'm taken. Besides you can't just strip me without my consent. I'll call the police." He says, holding his hands across his chest like he was a woman, "No means no."

"Satoru, I'm the one you're dating. Now let's go put our pyjamas on." You say, maybe he could follow you so he could dress himself upstairs

"You want me to follow you after you just tried violating me! What kind of sick pervert are you?!" He asks, his hands remaining over his chest

"The sickest there is." You joke, "By the way you don't have boobs to cover up, stop sitting like that."

"I'm in a vulnerable situation!" He defends

You didn't have the energy to do this and drunk Satoru was driving you nuts,

"Right vulnerable..."You sigh before walking over to the bottom of the steps "Megumi! I need help with him!"

"Can I use a Shikigami this time?" The boy calls back

"Sure!" You say

A half second passes before Megumi and Itadori clamor down the steps to reappear in the living room to take in the "violated" 28-year-old manchild who remained set on remaining modest with his hands on his chest.

"Um...Zenin-san what's he doing?" Itadori asks

"He thinks he's got tits to hide or something." You sigh, too tired and a bit drunk to deal with all this.

"Rabbit escape," Megumi says, and before you know it the living room is filled with little white rabbits.

"Woah, Fushiguro these guys are super cute!" Itadori says, picking one of them up and petting it.

"Right? I was so excited when he showed them to me for the first time." You smile

"Carry him," Megumi says to the rabbits, ignoring the two of you.

The rabbits move in sync and surround Gojo before pushing him off the couch and onto their many backs so they can carry him up the steps.

"It's kind of like he's crowd surfing," Itadori observes

"Ha!" You laugh as you watch Satoru slowly make his way up the steps by rabbit back.

"Should they put him on the bed?" Megumi asked

You think about it for a moment. Drunk Satoru was always cuddly but he often vomited and you didn't want to clean that up.

"Just...leave him on the floor at the foot of our bed." You suggest

"Heh, like a puppy dog." Itadori laughs

October 31, 2018,

7:14 pm Jujutsu High

"What do you mean they're asking for Satoru specifically?" You ask looking at Ijichi, bewildered that normal people would know who your boyfriend is.

"Apparently they're calling for him. But we think it has to do with the veil that's been lowered that's holding them there." He explains

"I'm famous." Gojo declares, standing up with a grin.

"Famously stupid." You roll your eyes and Nanami lets out a hum of amusement

"She's right about that." He agrees

"You worried or something? I'll be fine." Gojo smiles, resting his elbow on your shoulder

"I'm always worried about you." You mumble

"What was that?" He asks

"Nothing." You say

"Mmmhm...welp, I'll be off to Shibuya then. I'll see you two later." Gojo smiles, leaning down for a kiss.

"I need a kiss, for encouragement." He says

You lean forward and gently place a chaste one on his lips, aware that poor Ijichi and Nanami are a few feet away.

"A real one!" Gojo groans

"All our kisses are real you fool!" You defend pushing his face away from yours

"Fine! I'll just get a kiss from whatever curse is making that barrier. I bet it'll be better than yours anyway!" Gojo taunts before walking off

You let out a sigh of relief as he disappears down the hall. Satoru was exhausting sometimes.

"How do you willingly put up with that?" Nanami genuinely asks

"I wish I knew." You reply

8:14 pm, Shibuya, Restaurant Avenue.

"You're getting fat. My son doesn't want a fat bride." A voice calls

Damn...of all places why here? You wanted to go home, shower, and watch bad reality TV with Satoru.

"Hey! What'd you just say?! Zenin-san is a special-grade sorcerer! You can't just say-"

"It's alright, Nobara. This old fool is probably so senile and drunk he doesn't know what he's saying." You say, turning to see Nabito Zenin, clan leader, and your future father-in-law standing before you.

"Naoya won't have kids with a fat woman. Lay off the noodles." Naobito scolded

"I need to buy new pants again. You have to stop feeding me all your leftovers, I'm getting fat!" You groan in front of the mirror

"You're not fat! Besides, even if you've gained a little, it just means there's more to love!" Satoru beams, wrapping his arms around you from behind, "You're as beautiful as ever, sweetheart. Besides I like curves, they're attractive! "

"Oh, fuck off. I don't plan on reproducing with Naoya anyway." You say

"Well, that'll be news to him," Naobito says shaking his head"Maki, I can't believe I'm supposed to be assessing your promotion. I plan to make sure you don't get it, by the way."

If this were a cartoon, you're sure Nobara's ears would be blowing smoke out of them by now. She's positively red with anger and honestly, it's a bit comical. You're used to Naobito's insults, and so is Maki, neither of you is going to let him get under your skin tonight.

"And how'd that work out last time you tried doing that?" Maki asks, looking at you

Naobito's face droops into a scowl. He's not happy to be reminded of his failure to prevent your promotions over the years.

"That was different. The higher-ups like that she's got a technique. You're just a brat who's good with a few cursed tools and a fancy pair of glasses." He explains

"And yet she's a higher rank than your own son is. Naoya is a Special Grade One right? Oh wait, so are you! That must be embarrassing. Last time I checked special grade is higher than Special Grade One, right?" Maki laughs

Nobara lets out a snicker but stops it from becoming too loud by slapping her hand over her mouth.

"You insolent little bi-"

Alright, that's enough. Naobito's hand that flies, ready to smack Maki, is fast but you're faster. You easily catch the old man's wrinkled wrist.

"You're getting slow. Perhaps it's all the booze you like you guzzle." You say

"Whatever. You're lucky that you're actually useful, otherwise I would've killed you years ago." He scowls, "Ungrateful bitch,"

"Mmhm, sure." You say, "Raise a hand to either of these girls tonight and you'll be sent back to the Zenin Estate in pieces. I've gotten faster and don't mind demonstrating why I'm a Special Grade, so watch it, old man."

"You've become overconfident. I think you're spending too much time with that white-haired fool." Naobito smiles

"Perhaps. Do you really want to find out though? I wonder if Naoya or any of his brothers will be concerned when the dear clan leader turns up dead." You reply

9:05pm,

"The second curtain is down!" Nobara declares

"Good. We'll move in then. Inumaki is handling evacuations so focus on any curses or curse users." You say "Our main goal is to assist Satoru in whatever way possible and get as many normal people safely out of his way."

"Got it." Maki says

"Yes ma'am." Nobara smiles

"I'm the elder here! Shouldn't I give the orders?!" Naobito yells

"Fine. What do you want to do then, oh dear clan leader?" You mock

...

"Just do whatever she said!" Naobito relents, ignoring you.

Heh. What a loser.

9:26 pm, the basement of Shibuya Station

What was this? A fake? No....he was here!

Suguru Geto was standing in front of him, healthy as ever.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you remember, Satoru? I'm Suguru Geto. Did you forget? How sad!" The imposter mocks him, and Suguru.

"Your body, your cursed energy, everything my six eyes see tells me you're Suguru Geto..."

They're wrong. Every bit of information his body is screaming at him to acknowledge is wrong. The instincts he had relied on for so many years were wrong, This wasn't Suguru. No, Suguru was gone, whatever was in front of him was no friend, and the way he mockingly said Gojo's name was perfect proof.

You can't imitate love.

"But my heart and my soul know otherwise! Who the hell are you?!"

"How'd you know?"

The stitches on the imposter's face are removed as the imposter reveals himself.

"My technique allows me to hop bodies by switching brains. I coveted this man's curse manipulation of course." The monster in front of him mocks

"Goodnight, Satoru Gojo. We'll meet again, in the new world." It bids him goodbye

"How long are you going to let it keep using you, Suguru?" He calls out to his best friend for the first time in nearly a year.

"HA!" The monster grins as Suguru fights him, amused by the struggle from Suguru's instincts.

I'm always worried about you.

Looks like you were right. You always were, one way or another.

Heh, next time Satoru Gojo might listen to you. After all, look how he's ended up.

"Gate, close."

10:20 pm, Inokashira line

Satoru Gojo has been sealed.

At least that's what you heard through assistant directors who have been feeding information the best they can.

How the hell did he get himself captured? He was untouchable, so what did he see that rattled him that badly?

"Why don't you cut loose. I'm sure you could level the playing field against these curses easily, Miss Special Grade." Naobito taunted

"Shut up!" You yell, cutting through another low-level curse

Letting loose, what a funny idea. Creating too many duplicates was bad, especially in a high-stress situation like this. What was once a support mission had just become a rescue mission.

"You know she can't." Maki defends you

"Whatever. All I hear is how special you are yet I've never seen your full technique. Kind of a waste don't you think?" He asks

He's baiting you. It won't work.

"Once we rescue Satoru, I'll show you my full technique. Perhaps one of my duplicates will kill you for me." You say

"I doubt it." He grins

"Zenin-san!" A oh so familiar voice calls out to you

"Nanami!" You greet, Thank god you're here to save me from this old man."

"Are you alright?" He asked

Always so overly concerned.

It was sweet though, you'd have to have lunch with him soon, you wanted to catch up with him, it had been too long. Perhaps you could go to a diner, Nanami had always enjoyed a good sandwich.

"I'm fine." You brush him off

"I overheard his taunts. Don't let your technique out fully unless there's no choice." Nanami reminds

"Duh, I'm not crazy." You say you say gently punching his arm.

Nanami shakes his head but falls into pace with all of you.

"You ought to turn back. Grade One is the minimum for the next battles, Maki." He warns

He's right. You had noticed that the deeper you went into the station, the stronger the curses were. You hadn't been sure what you were going to say to the girl but you were glad Nanami spoke up for you

"I'll be fine." She said

"He's right, Maki. I don't want you getting hurt." You say

"How am I going to advance if I don't challenge myself," Maki said

"Dying isn't challenging yourself." You say

"You should listen to your elders, girl." Naobito laughs

"Like I'd listen to a drunkard. I'm staying." Maki declares

When the hell was he drinking?! You swore he didn't have any booze on him.

"Were you seriously drinking?" Nanami judges

"I'm drinking for myself!" Naobito declares shamelessly.

What an asshole.

You follow Nanami down the steps, happy as a clam that there's an adult you actually like here. Sure Maki was great company and you loved her dearly but her stubbornness drove you nuts sometimes.

"Stop." Nanami commands, putting an arm out in front of you.

Then you sense it, something much stronger than the last curses is here.

"Maki, go back up those steps now." You order, making eye contact with a red and white curse.

"Hell, no, I told you I'm-"

"Quit your arguing." Naobito commands suddenly

He's stepped away from your little group and has gotten a hand on the curse

"You guys are too slow."

"Naobito wait!" You call, sensing something is wrong. The curse that put out such a strong aura just seconds ago wasn't putting it out anymore. It was letting Naobito get close to it.

Your words fall on deaf ears as he sends a punch to the curse. It flies back and spits out thousands of human bones.

How disgusting.

It's a little surprising what happens next. You watch as the little red curse crawls away from Naobito, calling out for it's comrades' names.

"What the hell is it doing? Forget it...let's kill it now." You say as you begin to walk towards it.

"How dare you kill Hanami?" It asks before beginning to shake

Oh boy...this couldn't be good.

A bright light flashes and the small red curse that once seemed wildly weak had transformed into a winged creature of sorts.

"I am Dagon." It declares

"Do you know how many frames there are in a second of animation?" Naobito asks

Great...he's going to blab about his technique now.

"If you're going to run your mouth, then you can fight it alone." You declare, not interested in assisting him

"Fine by me," Noabito says

Your focus recenters on Maki. This curse's transfigured form could be dangerous. She'd be the first to die if it really wanted to go all out so you'll have to keep a close eye on her.

You'd never admit it but Naobito's technique was impressive. Being able to break down an enemy's moves was certainly valuable. You watch carefully as Naobito punches and kicks away at Dagon who seems unable to get a decent hit on the old Zenin leader. You made no move to stop Maki as she swung at the curse, after all you knew Dagon would focus on the ones who could deal heavier damage.

"Don't you plan on helping?" Nanami called

"Yeah, yeah. I was kind of hoping Naobito would get beat up a little more though." You sigh, unsheathing your sword.

Eight of them. Eight phantoms is the number that you can control easily. Any more and they break away from your main mindset. By creating too many they gain their own willpower and goals, something like that can be deadly.

For example, if 25 Phantoms are created, only eight at a time will listen to your main body's orders. The others will access and act on what's going on around them at their own whims. If they become too free and learn to use their techniques, they can infinitely multiply and there'd be nothing you could do to stop them.

"Guess I'll start with three tonight. Let's see what you got, Dagon."

You'll start with 3 duplicates for now.

"Surround it. Hold it down." Your commands are instantly carried out as they each draw their swords to match you and begin moving towards Dagon.

"No!" Dagon calls as he takes a hard blow from Noabito

Suddenly the scenery changes from the station to a sunny beach. Damn it, this must be its domain.

Suddenly, two of your duplicates are cut down, they melt away and the last one remains to your right, awaiting orders. A nasty cut on its leg bleeds but it isn't anything fatal so it remains intact.

"Zenin-san!" Nanami's voice calls for you

A sharp pain fills your body as warm blood begins to trickle down your torso. Shit, did he just cut your intestines?

The harsher your wounds, the harder it would be to create a strong duplicate.

A barrage of different creatures are flying towards you now, almost like they're in slow motion.

Nanami said not to go all out...very well, you'll just have to push yourself to the limit of your control. There's no reason not to create 8 duplicates, even if they're hard to control.

"Get me to him." You order four of them

"The rest of you protect Maki." You say

She'll be the first to fall if you all stay in the domain for too long. Naobito's technique was protecting him and you were sure Nanami had enough strength to hold out until you were able to deal the finishing blow. Your duplicates were weaker than normal, and you sent the weaker ones to watch over Maki, you'd have to finish this fast and then get to Shoko, the bleeding from your stomach hadn't stopped yet.

"You're the weakest." Dagon declared, ignoring your charge and rushing Maki

Shit. This damn stomach injury was slowing you down. Without it, you're sure you would've been able to kill him by now.

"Maki!" A voice calls from the ocean

Megumi! Wasn't he with Itadori?

You grin as you see that Megumi has brought Maki her special-grade cursed tool. Good, with her safe that means you can make your attempt again.

With four duplicates left, Dagon is moving toward Megumi who seems to be trying to break the domain open. Those creatures Dagon likes are the perfect path to him.

Your stomach burns as you slice down a creature in your way. Nanami has moved to protect Megumi.

Heh, Megumi's going to break a hole in the domain at this rate. Maki and Noabito are behind you, ready for a quick escape. It's true none of you stand a chance like this.

Shit if only you had dodged when Nanami called to you. Three of your duplicates are dead and one remains as you call her to your side, ready to slip through the hole.

A gurgle sounds and before anyone can make a move a flash of white meets your eyes and a dead man enters the domain.

Toji Zenin is alive and well as he enters with a sinister-sounding laugh.

You watch wide-eyed as Toji uses Maki's cursed tool to attack Dagon.

"Who is that?" Maki asks

You're too shocked to answer as you watch the ghost easily overpower Dagon.

Satoru didn't let him go right? No...this was something different.

"Noabito how's he here?" You ask

"I don't know. He's been dead for years." Noabito says

Great, always so helpful.

"He's our best bet right now," Nanami says

Damnit. What kind of special-grade sorcerer were you? Getting injured and relying on some ghost to finish off a curse for you. If only you had infinity like Satoru then you wouldn't have to worry about cuts.

"It's alright. You'll have another chance to prove yourself." Nanami says, "Focus on keeping pressure on your stomach."

You glance down to see your normally dark clothes even darker with your blood.

"I'll help you get to Shoko," Nanami says, wrapping a big arm under your shoulders for support

Shit when did he get so muscular? Damn male puberty, you wished you had gotten to grow that big!

"Speak for yourself, You look just as bad as me." You say, watching as Toji sets himself up for a finishing move.

"Thanks, I love getting nice compliments from you" Nanami smiles

Before you can blink or comprehend Nanami's mood change, you're released from the domain, Dagon's body is slowly disappearing and Toji stands victorious over it.

Noabito looks ready to call out to the ghost, hopefully, to see how the hell he's alive again. You let your weight slump against Nanami, glad he's there to hold you up, even if he's badly injured himself.

It's like it happens in slow motion before your eyes. Toji crosses the room and his fist whirls back to slam into an unsuspecting Megumi. Glass shatters as Nanami holds you from running after them.

"You'd lose. We have to heal you first." He says, "Megumi will be fine."

You hate that he's right.

"Fine then lets get to Shoko and-"

The scent of singed flesh hits your nose and cuts you off, before you know it Nanami is shoving you away from him.

"It's alright." He says when he sees the fear in your eyes

Your eyes find his as your last duplicate moves in front of you to protect you. The last thing you see is the fire that covers your last close friend from your teenage years.

The hot blaze from the fire dries the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes as your head hits the floor, your duplicate is there, you'll have to leave everything to her.

May 2005

"Did you hear about the new student that's joining us? They're from the Zenin clan." Haibara asks as they walk toward their classroom

"Yes, I was there when the announcement was made." Nanami reminds

"Yeah, I know, I'm just excited. I hope they can get along with the second years. It would suck if we all had to stop hanging out together." Haibara says

"I dunno. Seeing Gojo less actually sounds appealing." Nanami says

"Yeah but wouldn't you miss Geto-san?" Haibara asks

"Maybe. He's better than Gojo." Nanami admits as he takes his usual seat, casting a glance at the new desk that has been added to the room

Yaga enters soon after and behind him a small form follows, practically hiding itself behind their muscular teacher.

"Introduce yourself," Yaga says

Nanami watches as the figure stops its hiding and introduces herself. Pretty hair catches his eye as she sits down next to him.

"Hello."

It's in this moment that Nanami knows you are going to be at the center of his attention from now until forever.

July 2006

"Is it possible to die from lack of ice cream?" You groan from your spot on the floor

"It would certainly be a new way to die," Nanami says, as sweat trickles down the back of his neck.

"What the hell is taking Haibara so long? The corner store is only 10 minutes away!" You whine covering your face with a towel that had been wet with cool water.

Nanami is equally uncomfortable and overheated as you but for a slightly different reason. It was the hottest day of the year, of course, you were entitled to wear a tank top and shorts, he'd never want to limit what you dressed yourself in. After all it was your body, not his.

The big issue was that the amount of skin you were showing was hypnotizing to the 16-year-old boy. It's not like he was trying to only focus on the way your body looked, it's just that his eyes kept drifting over there!

"Sorry, it took so long! I dropped my wallet on the way there!" Haibara greeted as he pushed your dorm room's door open

"Next time send a text. I thought I was going to die." You say, immediately reaching for your ice cream

"Are you alright, Nanami you look a little red..."Haibara observes

"I'm fine." He lied, keeping his eyes away from you.

August 2007

Nanami isn't sure what to do. You called him here probably so you didn't have to be alone but what should he say? He felt frozen as he took in your appearance.

To keep it short, you were a mess. Used tissues were on your overflowing nightstand and you were wrapped up under your blankets. Were you even aware he had entered the room?

"Hey..." He said quietly

"Nanami." You greet, turning over to face him from your blanket mountain

"How are you?" He asked awkwardly as he sat down on the floor next to you so his face was even with yours as you lay in bed.

"Terrible." You say quietly

"Me too." He agrees

"You look better than me." You observe

"I got most of my tears out already." He explains, thinking back to the long shower he had taken

You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment and your hand appears from your blanket burrito. Without thinking Nanami takes it in his bigger one.

"It sounds stupid to say but he's in a better place now." Nanami assures

He hated when Geto said that to him earlier but now it was the only thing he could find in his muddled brain.

"It still hurts though." You say

"...I know."

September 2007

The sun was setting when he finally caught up to you. He was worried when you ran off after he read the report about Geto to you. A warm breeze fills his lungs as he watches the scene in front of him unfold.

You hand Gojo a lollipop and settle down next to him on the stairs. It's inappropriate but jealousy burns hot in his stomach as he watches Gojo rest his head on your shoulder.

"I'm sure you'll see him again. Even if it's not for a long time, you'll talk to each other again." You say

"Yeah, I hope so," Gojo responds

Nanami watches as your eyes remain fixed on the saddened white-haired sorcerer. He understands now, Kento Nanami understands that no matter how he chases after you, your eyes will always be fixed on something far up ahead. Satoru Gojo has won you from him and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

February 2015

Nanami isn't sure why he agrees to babysitting the kids you and Gojo took in. Perhaps its because they're fun to be around, not that he'd ever admit it.

"Can we watch a fun movie tonight?" Tsumiki asks

"Yes. If you finish your dinner." He responds as he drives, "And all your vegetables."

"Can we watch Hotel Transylvania?" Megumi asks

"No!" Tsumiki groans

Nanami tunes out the Fushiguro siblings as they launch into a debate about what movies are good and which ones aren't. Apparently, Hotel Transylvania has been dubbed dumb by Tsumiki.

His mind wanders to you and how you smiled and thanked him for helping out tonight. He said it was no problem and reminded you they were welcome any time at his house so that you and Gojo could get some alone time.

He doesn't know why he said that, especially since he easily figured out what kind of night you had planned judging by the racey dress you had on when you walked the kids out. Seriously he thought he'd be feeling some sort of jealousy but instead, he was just enamored with you.

Maybe he just wants to feel useful to you. Afterall, your recent promotion to Special Grade Sorcerer has left him feeling rather weak compared to you, like he wouldn't really be of use if you were ever in real danger. Because if you couldn't win a fight, how would he? Being a rank lower than you it would be impossible.

As he drives Nanami decides that if there were ever real danger, he'd hope that he would be able to keep you safe from harm, even if it were just for a second. Yes, he'd be satisfied with something as small as that.

11:14 pm- Dogenzaka, in front of Shibuya 109

He feels a sense of accomplishment as doom looks him in the face. The curse in front of him doesn't scare him, even as he understands that this will be it.

You had been perfectly unharmed when he woke up before he walked all the way down here. Your duplicate must've taken the fire from the curse that had touched him. She had done her job well and Nanami wished he could thank her. Of course, it never would've occurred if he hadn't pushed you away from him. For once he was glad he let you go. After all, there were so many times from before that he hadn't.

One day he'll meet you again. Perhaps then he'll tell you his true feelings until then though you'd have to wait. It was only fair, considering how long he had waited for you.

"Itadori, you've got it from here."

Next Part

Series Masterlist

Guys, I swear this is still a Gojo fic, not a Nanami one.

Taglist

@polarbvnny @r0ckst4rjk @dann-acalle @bakedpotato12 @my-xoxoxox @desideriumlove @starlight5cat

#gojo satoru #gojo #nanami kento #geto suguru #yu haibara #shoko ieiri #naoya zenin #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk #romance #gojo x reader #fluff #angst #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo x female reader #megumi fushiguro #tsumiki fushiguro #maki zenin #yuta okkotsu #inumaki toge #mai zenin #toji fushiguro #yuji itadori #gojo smut #gojo x you #nanami x reader

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Jujutsu Kaisen||Nanami X Reader||For Every Moment||Moment Part 1.||Fluff, Peace

Daydreaming while studying again, And I got another character who I wanted to spend my evening with. Drink Water. Don't stare at the screen too much. I have seven drafts.

You worked as a Data Scientist, in the company, you just got off from a very unplanned overtime shift, but you just wanted to have your weekend free. So, you took on that shift.

Your eyes felt strained and needed something more relaxing, as usual, every Friday you visited the bookstore and headed to the romance section,

Your reading goals were to try and indulge in books your long-term boyfriend often reads in the morning to newspapers or non-fiction, but after a long day, you just want to hurl yourself into your comfort zone, maybe on your next day off you would borrow a few of his books to make him proud. You smiled at the thought.

You searched the aisle to see if you would find any titles you had put down on your BTR.

You didn't maybe there were some on the other sections, but you just sat down at one of the reading corners, to simply scheme the book.

You got a book you liked and were just about to head out when you noticed the skies had darkened out quite a lot and it was starting to pour.

Your car was at service, so you swiped up your phone, to dial your boyfriend's number.

"You're going to start to worry me when you don't even inform me about a late-night shift Y/n, where are you right now?"

"At the bookstore."

You heard an audible sigh from the other end of the line. Nanami got up from the couch and loosened his tie before taking it off, you heard the keys jiggling, "Don't go anywhere Y/n, I'm coming to pick you." Nanami instructed.

"Thank you."

The line got cut when you noticed how heavy the rain poured, maybe a few minutes had passed when you felt incredibly drowsy.

When suddenly you felt a shuffle too close to you, you flinched you stepped back a little when you were shocked at this man, yeah, he was the one who was at the romance section he had asked you for a recommendation. You didn't think he was approaching you again to ask for another recommendation.

It creeped you out, you just hoped your boyfriend would feel like he had done enough overtime and hit the escalator a little harder.

Then you started recalling all the times, your boyfriend would ask you to not wander, and all the wise words you failed to follow flashed before your eyes.

"Hey, the book you had recommended to me I didn't buy it." The guy gave a smirk, which could mean all the wrong things. "You know why?"

You deduced, this guy was up to no good, and decided to buy some time for yourself, "Why?"

"Because I had that one, I have to say you have great taste. The spice. the Romance." He emphasized the word, 'Spice' more, which made you all the more uncomfortable.

Then he began really pushing the boundary when he started walking up to you, this was going to get really ugly, one piece of advice from Nanami you could use, what was it?

"Whenever a cursed spirit approaches it not only comes to devour the soul, but if it is a male and it sees a woman, it cannot see them as a human being. You must run."

So, you did, not that you're classifying this man as a cursed spirit, but all your primal instincts screamed to run, just don't look back.

To your horror he chased behind you, you were afraid you might slip the footpath was slippery with mud and gunk. Which made it difficult to really run with your professional attire and pencil heels, The bookstore was quite far from where you came.

Then you bumped into someone, and you sighed so much again and again, a wave of relief, gratitude, and a thousand blessings felt like had washed over your breathless body, and shaky breaths, your ankles felt like they would scold and yell if they could,

Nanami, steadied you with an arm around your back, as you still looked scared and shaken up, his face remained as usual stoic, and calm. You fell onto his broad chest, and as he did not remove the arm around, you the other arm carried an umbrella that loomed over your frame.

"Thank god..." You whispered again, and again breathlessly. You saw that guy had come with two of his friends? Partners? You didn't want to find out.

When he saw those three, had chased you down one look at them and then you, he understood the entire story. He protectively pushed you behind him, "Is there a reason you're chasing her?" He asked his voice cold as the howling winds.

Nanami had a frighteningly cold and unforgiving demeanor, "Just who are you exactly?"

"Listen, she's my sister okay, she acts crazy--"

"Enough. Go." He ordered.

Nanami ushered you inside the car before he got behind the steering. "Don't think too much Y/n. Your alright."

"Because of you..."

When Nanami hit the brakes at one of the signals, he turned to check on you, he leaned from his seat to kiss your forehead,

"Do you want some hazelnut, chocolate, the one with marshmallows? I'll get you some cookies as well."

You smiled, "Yeah...I would like that, Thank you Kento."

"I'm just relieved you're alright."

#lovestories #romance #beauty #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu sorcerer #jujtusu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanamixy/n #nanami x you

[dottedsilktie]

Disillusioned corporate Nanami who's lost his life to the rat race x younger reader who would willingly do the same for his approval is by far my favourite trope that I'm working on

#i know it sounds weird like this #but it's a work place romance #slow burn type beat #nanami kento #nanami x reader #current wip