#v. manga au.

[drgnbld-a]

almost  died  at  the  hands  of  yellow  ,  giovanni  ,  and  the  original  trio  but  god  would  not  let  him  perish  .  he’s  had  it  out  for  them  since  .  

#❪ IC ❫ WATARU. » a suicidal maniac with nothing to lose. #v. manga au. #dash com. #death tw

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i’ll go see you again tomorrow (spring is coming to an end) ; sashisu

[ part i - spring ; satoru gojo ]

synopsis; a snippet of the spring you share with a certain satoru gojo, who seems intent on making your high school life as difficult as possible.

word count; 5.9k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, enemies to friends but the ’enemy’ part is kinda one-sided, wholesome n sweet overall, no curses au, gojo doesn’t know how to make friends and thinks lighthearted bullying constitutes as a bonding activity, reader doesn’t like gojo at first but dw they see the light eventually

a/n; the shoujo manga vibes are v heavy w/ this part i think. high school gojo was born to shoujo but forced to shounen </3

satoru gojo is annoying.

blunt as it may seem, it’s a conclusion you reach fairly quickly. when you first met him, you weren’t sure what to think, what to feel — a deliberate choice, on his part. looking back on it now, that’s the conclusion you come to. 

he wanted to appear unreadable. purposefully hiding his personality and mannerisms, to gain the upper hand. observing all of you, dissecting you inside his mind, while revealing nothing about himself apart from his name. it’s a kind of power, a safety measure.

not like it lasted very long, though.

evidently, holding back isn’t exactly gojo’s forte. after only a day or two, he began to show his true colours, having gotten more accustomed to the new environment and classmates — and with the revelation of his genuine personality, your unease around him festered even more.

where do you even begin to describe him? he’s childish, for one. and cocky. loud, arrogant. selfish and flamboyant. just generally an asshole. you could go on and on; none of the traits are particularly flattering, and you know he couldn’t care less.

gojo is annoying, plain and simple. almost constantly trying to pick a fight with someone, uninterested in manners or even common courtesy. he says what he feels, regardless of how other people take it. 

to put it simply, he has no regard for the people around him. his self-interest is limitless. 

gojo does have a certain presence, though. a kind of charisma, or what you think could become charisma, if he’d just get off that high horse already. he won’t, though — you know he won’t. he revels in it, in looking down on everything and everyone, annoyingly boisterous and irritatingly tall. 

most frustrating of all, however, is that his unbridled confidence isn’t exactly unwarranted.

as much as it pains you to say it, gojo is maybe just a little bit incredible. a natural-born genius, even. he’s intelligent, and observant, and awfully pretty, with those blue eyes and that snowy hair. 

and he has no issue in getting what he wants. none whatsoever.

there’s something admirable about it, in a twisted way — it’s almost like he doesn’t even need to try. he’s good at anything, if he just gives it a single chance. evidently, he’s never once given a chance to the prospect of being a decent guy, then.

effortlessly perfect, in the most imperfect of ways. that’s probably how you’d describe him.

annoying is still the most fitting word, though, undoubtedly. or maybe obnoxious. he’s got this spoiled rich kid vibe that irks you, gets under your skin. you doubt he’s ever had to empathize with anyone else in his entire life. 

really, you don’t understand how geto can put up with him. 

gojo said something to him, during your first week of school. what, you aren’t sure — probably some rude, untoward comment, something taunting. shoko told you about it, but you don’t know the details. 

what you do know is that they fought about it, physically. and that ever since then, they’ve been on a first-name basis, attached at the hip. it’s not often you see one of the two without the other. evidently, the fight brought them closer. you think they must be at least a little bit insane, but maybe that’s to be expected of kids who’d choose some weird boarding school in the middle of nowhere over a more orthodox choice. 

(not like you’re one to talk, though.)

geto is a little better than his best friend, at least. he’s polite, and relaxed, and easy to talk to, only ever annoying when gojo’s around. you don’t know how he manages to put up with him so well, but you get the sense that he’s the only one who really understands gojo. the only one who even tries to.

you haven’t even attempted to do so, yourself. fondness wasn’t something you held for him, from the very beginning, but every interaction between the two of you only serves to make him more and more insufferable in your eyes. 

gojo is annoying to basically everyone, always teasing and taunting, looking down from that high horse of his. and you’re certainly no exception — if anything, he’s even worse with you. 

you know he looks down on you, from behind those tacky sunglasses. you’re not as self-assured as your classmates, and you think he must have sensed it, the moment he laid eyes on you. that you’re a little meek, a bit of a doormat, easy to push around and get a rise out of. maybe he also noticed your apprehension towards him, your apparent unease. 

you’re easy prey, to put it simply.

so as soon as introductions were over, gojo immediately began to push at your buttons. grinning in that cocky fashion, not bothering to hide what he thought of you in the slightest. the first words that came out of his mouth when he spoke to you were rude ones, but you can’t quite recall them, muddled together with every other unneeded comment that he’s thrown your way since. 

his behavior hasn’t gotten better, even in the slightest. gojo is always teasing you, annoying you, trying to figure out what makes you tick. almost like he’s solving an equation — the equation being you, the limit of your patience. 

evidently, he’s developed a fondness for getting under your skin; it’s your own fault, really, for giving him what he wants. a scoff, a roll of your eyes, an earnest fuck right off. if you were more like shoko or geto, then maybe he’d leave you alone — if you could just brush him off, ignore him, not give him the time of day. deny him one of those reactions he loves so much. 

but you’re not shoko. and you’re not geto, either. you’re you, and you’ve always been particularly bad at hiding what you feel.

it’s not like you hate him, or anything. you really have tried to get along with him. but it’s impossible, at the end of the day. gojo is just too good at being annoying. 

and, more than anything, he’s far too out of reach. you can state his negative traits without a hitch, as well as his begrudgingly positive ones, but all of them are surface level when you get down to it. in truth, you don’t understand satoru gojo at all. 

and that suits you just fine.

you’re just gonna have to live with it. live with him, his presence in your life, disrupting what should have been your peaceful high school years. your new start. 

it sucks, but you’ve already resigned yourself to it. having to deal with him every day is annoying, yes, but what can you do? at least you get along well enough with shoko and geto. at this point, you’ve decided to treat gojo like an annoying little toddler, or an irritating pest. someone to put up with, not take seriously. 

for a pest, he’s awfully good at making you angry, though. you can never seem to maintain your composure, when he’s around. it’s not always a bad thing — the banter can be funny, sometimes. just a tiny bit. doesn’t make it any less infuriating, though.

and in the state you’re currently in, you doubt you could handle it without popping a blood vessel or two.

a heavy sigh flows from your parted lips, as you examine your blurry reflection in the mirror. fatigue clings to your skin like a layer of sweat, and your mind is muddled, stuffed with anxious thoughts you’d rather not be having. 

you feel thoroughly exhausted, completely spent. and the day’s barely begun. you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night, unable to slip into sleep’s embrace without being awoken by an abrupt nightmare. 

and it’s painfully evident. in your face, your posture. in the paleness of your skin, only making your vague eyebags more noticeable, and in the way you can’t help but drag your legs slightly as you walk. in your disheveled hair, in every sigh and grumble you let slip as you try to blink the exhaustion away. you just feel so tired, both physically and mentally. 

it could be worse, though. you don’t have any classes today, at the very least. it would’ve been an actual nightmare, in the state you’re currently in; having to stay up, take notes and listen to yaga drone on and on. you like your teacher, you really do, but sometimes his lectures can be just a little bit tedious.

the only reason you even bother to leave your dorm at all, in such a restless state, is so you can grab some breakfast. if you’re lucky, maybe it’ll make you feel a little less like a walking train wreck.

with that thought in mind, you make your way to the dormitory’s shared kitchen, enjoying the sight of the cherry blossoms through the windows you pass.

you’ll manage, somehow. your morning couldn’t possibly get any worse, after all.

when you enter the space, you’re relieved to find it completely devoid of people. no shoko, no geto, or even gojo. running into the first two wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it still wouldn’t be ideal. you don’t really want anyone seeing you like this — tired, meek, somewhat vulnerable.

least of all gojo. you shiver at the bare thought.

with laboured, groggy movements, you move around the kitchen, getting cups and plates and turning on the coffee machine. the sizzling of the pan creates a soothing melody, pleasant to your ears, as you quickly make a lazy breakfast to wolf down. 

when it’s finished, you waste no time in taking a seat by one of the tables; eager to enjoy the peace and quiet, at last.

but, as always, the world seems to have it out for you specifically.

”oh? well, look who it is. and here i thought you had left, too.”

you stiffen. ever so slightly, barely noticeable, but still enough that you physically feel the dread envelop every single cell of your body. the voice that echoes across the open space is a chipper one. one you recognize. one you were desperately hoping not to hear today. 

inwardly wincing, all you can do is continue to idly sip from your cup of coffee, silently going through all five stages of grief before accepting your unfortunate predicament. 

that’s just your luck, isn’t it?

resigned to the sight you know you’ll see when you raise your head, you do just that — and, lo and behold, there he is.

gojo looks the same as always. grinning brightly, wearing those ugly sunglasses, making his way across the room like he owns it. a trait you can’t help but admire, envy, as he plops down next to you like it’s nothing. unconcerned about you or your concept of personal space.

”whatcha up to?” he chirps, in a sugar sweet tone, layered over with a boyish kind of excitement. there’s that teasing tilt of his, too, the one that always accompanies his voice when he’s speaking to you.

usually, hearing him speak in such an irritating fashion would’ve put you off. maybe you would’ve given him an apprehensive look, or tried to sound unbothered when answering his inquiry — that usually only makes him more intent on annoying you, but you just never seem to learn. 

in your current state, though, you can’t muster up anything of the sort. you’re too tired, too anxious. you just want to sleep. 

and yet, despite your best wishes, here he is; satoru gojo, in all his glory, ruining your hopes of what could have been a peaceful breakfast. you can’t even bring yourself to get mad. today, you just don’t have the energy to deal with him at all.

when you glance his way, your eyes meet, for a second — not like you can actually see them, from behind his sunglasses, but you know they’re there. menacing and uncanny. bright and excited. 

you allow your gaze to linger at him for a brief moment, before trailing back to your plate. ”morning,” is all you manage to mutter, before taking a tentative bite of your sandwich. 

gojo blinks.

he immediately notes that your voice sounds meek. even more so than usual. and it’s a little confusing — he expected you to give him a scoff, or even just a timid huff. but no such luck. you’re just sitting there, quiet, curling into yourself.

so, after a moment’s consideration, gojo opts to look at you. to really look at you, studying your face, the way your fingers move to curl around the ceramic handle of your cup. he’s always been observant, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re tired. 

you look out of it, plain and simple. eyes unfocused as you stare into space. gojo is silent for no more than a mere moment, contemplating his next course of action. he’s never seen you like this, before. 

did something happen?

— well, it doesn’t matter. not his problem.

”you look like a zombie,” he grins, teasingly, showing off the white of his teeth.

despite the oddity of your behavior, he can’t hold it back — despite his own intuition, telling him to let you be. he can’t help it. you’re just too fun to tease. 

suguru or shoko just raise their eyebrows at him, or stare him down like a misbehaving dog — but you always have a good reaction to give. something to entertain him when he’s bored, or something to distract him when his mind is too full of noise. 

so he can’t help but tease you, a little. hoping it’ll soothe the restlessness in his chest.

— but for once, what gojo expects isn’t what he gets. 

he expects you to glare at him, or tell him to leave you alone, or even just sigh in exasperation. either one would be fine. it’s just mindless enjoyment, to him, a little fun to lighten up his day. 

especially now, when suguru is away on some day trip he wasn’t privy to. traitor, is all he can think. and shoko is nowhere to be seen, either. probably off smoking in some random alleyway, listening to one of her weird indie bands.

the whole dorm is so eerily quiet.

(gojo would never admit it, not in a thousand years, but maybe it’d be just a little bit lonely without any of you around.)

for a while, he assumed he’d have to spend the whole day alone. but then he entered the kitchen, and lo and behold; there you were, his saving grace. his dear old irritable little classmate. 

a great relief overtook him, when he set his sights on you. oh, thank god — he thought he was going to die of boredom. but with you at school, too, his day is saved. now he can push your buttons to his heart’s content, bask in your playful banter until suguru gets back.

— only this time, you don’t react at all. 

you don’t give him what he expects, don’t indulge his little antics, in the way he’s grown so accustomed to. all you do is continue to eat your breakfast, and drink your coffee, in silence. intent on gulping it all down quickly, so you can leave. 

gojo’s words aren’t even irritating to you, right now. barely even a hassle. you honestly can’t be bothered with him at all; he can say what he wants, you don’t care. even mustering up the energy to get annoyed feels like too much for your sleep-deprived brain.

gojo waits, for just a couple moments more. hoping for a delayed reaction, a witty counter, a snarky comment. anything. 

but it never comes.

finally, he starts to sulk. ever so slightly, slumping against the leather seat behind him, quieting down with a low huff. furrowing his brows as his lips curl down into a soft pout.

god — just what is your problem? what is with you, today? it’s no fun if you don’t play along. 

gojo can’t help but grumble a little, under his breath. you’re usually so responsive, so easy to rile up. so what’s wrong? why are you just sitting there?

whatever. he doesn’t care. not even a little bit. so what if you’re not talking to him? like he cares enough to be bothered by it. gojo has better things to do, bigger fish to fry. he wasn’t even that excited, when he saw you. the thought of bantering with you didn’t lift his spirits, even in the slightest. not one bit.

(he hadn’t realized he’d begun to look forward to your interactions so much.)

but, really — come on. would it take so much effort to just say something? to just respond to his friendly little quip? you can’t possibly be that tired. 

or what, did you get insecure, or something? because he called you a zombie? no way. you’re not that sensitive. right? or is that it? what a hassle.

you know he’s just messing with you. so why are you acting so…. 

(sad, gojo wants to think, but he buries the thought before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex. he doesn’t want to empathize with you. that’d just be too troublesome.)

nonetheless, a strange frustration bubbles up in his chest. at your lack of reaction, the weak glint in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand why — and that frustrates him even more. 

why can’t you just bite back, like always?

it’s fun when you do.

the silence lingers on, stretching out as you gulp down your food while gojo keeps on sulking. he’s still just sitting beside you, waiting for something to happen. he briefly considers getting up and leaving, or saying something annoying to hopefully spur you on —

but you stand up before he can convince himself to go through with either option.

having finished your breakfast, your legs carry you to the sink. finally, you can head back to your room. gojo’s being weirdly quiet, you can’t help but notice; it’s kind of hard not to, with how loud he usually is. 

but you pay no mind to it, methodically washing your dishes in silence. deciding not to dwell on it. it’s a rare opportunity, after all, one you’d be foolish not to enjoy it while it lasts. you don’t bother saying goodbye to him, either, as he sits there. still deep in thought and grumbling curses under his breath. 

he watches you as you leave, gaze trailing after your form until you’re completely out of sight. 

then he lays down, flat on his back, with a frustrated huff. trying desperately to brush away the memory of your dim eyes, the slight frown on your lips. the dark circles under your eyes, that he tried not to notice because they made him feel so weirdly uncomfortable. the meek look you gave him.

gojo sighs.

(he feels just a tiny, tiny bit bad.)

when you wake up from your slumber, you immediately note that your body feels lighter.

no nightmares came to haunt you, this time. you practically collapsed once your head hit the pillow, finally giving you some peace of mind, and some well needed rest. maybe having breakfast really did help.

with a groan, you lazily stretch out your limbs, gaze falling on the clock on your wall. you’ve only been asleep for about two hours, or so, but it’s more than you got last night. 

what to do, what to do. you still have the whole day ahead of you. another nap wouldn’t hurt, but you don’t want to waste your precious free time by just rotting in bed. maybe you can take a walk around the schoolyard? the cherry blossoms have started to unfurl, and it’s a beautiful sight — perfect to enjoy on a day like this, framed by the blue of the sky.

it’s a pleasing mental image. enough to have you changing into some light and comfortable clothes, intent on seeing the idea through, before you reach a hand out to push the door open.

as you do so, something is knocked over.

a soft little thud, accompanied by the sensation of collision between the door and something else. that’s all you hear, all you feel. 

with a low curiosity simmering in your eyes, you exit the room, eagerly peeking around for a look at the mysterious something.

as you do so, your gaze falls on something pink.

it’s tiny, awfully out of place as it lays on the floor. crouching down to examine it further, you recognize it immediately; a small carton of strawberry milk, with a plastic straw plastered on its side. one of the items sold in the schoolyard’s vending machines. 

you drink it fairly often, every time you need a small pick-me-up. the sweet taste always succeeds in soothing your spirits.

and it was sitting right outside your door.

you stare at it in contemplation, holding it in your hand as the gears turn silently in your head. that’s weird. did someone drop it? no, that’s dumb — who’d drop it right outside your door and then not pick it up?

did someone leave it for you, then? because they know you like it? that could be it, maybe, but who would —

….

your mind stills. 

the idea is odd, to say the very least. so odd that a part of you doesn’t even want to entertain it. but despite your inherent denial, it’s the most reasonable conclusion to arrive at. after all, neither shoko nor geto are there — and that just leaves one possible culprit.

why would he do something like that, though? he doesn’t like you, you know that. so there’s no way — right?

… then again, you have seen him drink it. both of you seem to like it, contrary to your classmates; shoko doesn’t like sweet things in general, and geto doesn’t go for strawberry milk if he can choose something else. honestly, it might be the only thing you and gojo have in common, the one thing that binds you two together. a single carton of strawberry milk. it’s almost comical.

(you wonder why he did it, if it’s really true. you wonder if he noticed that you were feeling under the weather, and figured it’d make you happy. 

you wonder if it’d be foolish of you to believe that it’s true, if only because you like the idea.)

your feet move on their own, before your mind has a chance to question the decision. where could he be, you wonder? in the kitchen? in his dorm?

just as the question enters your subconscious, a flash of white crosses your vision. as you absently glance out the window, you see it; white, soft hair, like a fluffy cloud in the midst of all the pink petals fluttering about. 

you stop, and then begin walking once more. with more decision.

gojo is sitting right outside the dormitory, on a wooden bench, legs swinging as he gazes up at the sky. his hair sways slightly with the breeze, soft strands moving and caressing his skin. 

the air is filled with pink petals, gracefully descending down to the ground, together with a trail of bubbles. gojo is blowing them, haphazardly, following their movement with his keen eyes. they glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting all shades of the rainbow.

the sight is just a little bit breathtaking. 

the ground crunches beneath your feet, when you take a step forward — and gojo turns towards you. you stiffen like a deer in headlights. it was almost on impulse that you walked over to him, but now that you’re face to face, it’s a little nerve-racking.

still, it’s far too late to back out now. there’s not much to do except join him. so that’s exactly what you eventually do, albeit a little hesitantly.

attempting to ignore his continuous stare, burning into the side of your head, you plop down beside him. an uncomfortable silence lingers in the air around you both, as he waits for you to say something. 

mustering up the courage to do so is tough, though. the decisiveness you felt when you decided to go see him has faded, now only the ghost of a sensation — you’re somewhat nervous to verbalize what was on your mind when you made the decision.

but eventually, you force yourself to speak. hoping you won’t come to regret it.

”… hey, gojo?” you start, softly, not looking at him. gaze glued on the cherry trees. but you know his eyes are still on you; you can feel them, and their weight.

the carton of strawberry milk is in your right hand, and you raise it up, faintly. to get his attention. then you look over at him, not quite managing to give him a smile, but you try your best to look somewhat appreciative. 

”thanks.”

a confused blink. gojo looks down the strawberry milk, and then back at you. eyelashes fluttering.

a moment passes. then he turns his head away, swiftly. his hair is tousled by the movement, a couple pink petals stuck between the soft strands. you can’t see his face anymore.

”i don’t know what you mean,” he huffs, with a voice you’ve never heard from him. he sounds almost embarrassed. 

upon closer inspection, you think the tips of his ears may be just slightly red. a smile finds its way onto your lips, unbeknownst to you — like this, he’s actually kind of cute. denying your implication, when it’s so obvious. 

some part of you was still a little unsure, but gojo’s embarrassment basically confirms it. 

(maybe he’s not as bad as you thought.)

cherry blossoms flutter in the wind, dancing joyously, without a care in the world. a spring breeze ruffles gojo’s hair, as he sits beside you, having begun to blow bubbles again. not saying a word, and looking straight ahead. but can’t help but stare at him, a little.

you find yourself thinking that he looks right at home, among the petals. they’re fleeting, hard to get a grasp on. pretty, and so out of reach, despite being so close. 

you could reach over and touch him right now, if you wanted to. you could reach for his sunglasses, lift them off his face, and finally see those eyes he’s so intent on hiding. you could see him, see straight into his soul, and find out who he really is.

you won’t, though. some boundaries aren’t meant to be so callously crossed.

instead, you puncture the pink carton in your hand with the plastic straw, and take a tentative sip. the sweet taste soothes you almost immediately; you can’t help but sigh, softly, relaxing a little further. it’s absolutely perfect, for this kind of weather. the sight before you, cherry petals and shining bubbles. a boy you don’t like, but definitely don’t hate, either.

you both look up, following the bubbles with your eyes as they float up into the sky. as they get smaller and smaller, farther and farther out of reach. neither of you say a word, but the silence is comforting. light. 

gojo is the first one to break it, surprisingly, in a voice so small you barely hear it.

”you don’t look like a zombie.”

a second passes. the statement catches you off guard, and you’re left blinking in confusion, trying to decipher it. 

unable to resist the temptation, you decide to look over at him. with his eyes conveniently hidden behind his sunglasses, you can’t get a good read on his expression; he’s regained his composure, then.

it takes a couple seconds for his words to sink in — but once they do, all pieces seem to fall into place. 

is that why he got you the drink? 

you just can’t help it. you laugh, lightly, and this time it’s gojo who’s left confused.

”did —” you wheeze, softly, voice thoroughly amused. almost fond. you try to bite back the laughter, but it’s tough. ”did you think i was bothered by that, or something?”

gojo looks at you, for a brief moment. a little stunned. the sight only makes your smile grow even further, as you meet his gaze, eyes crinkled. you really aren’t trying to tease him — it’s just so funny to you. so endearing. 

from the angle you’re viewing him through, as you lean back against the bench, you catch a glimmer of his eyes at last. they’re awfully pretty. blue and bright, full of life. when you look closer, you can see tiny, white splotches of colour in them. 

they look like the blue sky. 

you called them menacing, before, uncanny, but now you don’t think that’s quite true. they’re awfully soft, in the sunlight. especially when viewed like this, right after catching him slightly off guard. it’s a rare moment, terribly precious.

gojo doesn’t let it linger, though — the moment only lasts for a second or two. 

then he scoffs, abruptly, turning away yet again. you swear that he’s pouting, a little, even if he’s trying to sound annoyed and nothing more.

”obviously not,” he huffs, sounding irritated as he rests his jaw on the heel of his palm. ”but with how sensitive you are, i wouldn’t be surprised.”

usually, a comment like that would irk you, and you’d bite back. but now it just makes you giggle, lightheartedly. the tips of his ears turn red, again, at the sound. 

yeah. he’s really not so bad, after all.

for a while, you don’t say anything else, afraid of ruining the tender atmosphere. you feel closer to gojo than you ever have before, and you wonder if maybe this is the gojo that geto sees; childish, but well meaning. arrogant and cocky, but oddly innocent. selfish — but not really. you may have been slightly off, with that one.

the strawberry milk on your tongue tastes sweet, sweeter than usual.

”hey,” you break the silence, surprising even yourself. the words fall from your lips like soft little breaths, rolling off your tongue like marbles pouring out of a glass bottle. ”i don’t dislike you, you know?”

it’s an impulsive admission. saying it out loud doesn’t feel wrong, though. maybe a little humiliating, sure, but not wrong. they’re honest words, after all.

you suspect gojo may be looking at you, out of the corner of his eye, but you’re not sure. after all, you’re not looking at him, either — that’d feel a little too embarrassing.

he doesn’t quite know how to respond. you’re being strangely unpredictable, today, and it makes him feel a little unsure of himself. your tone is so soft. almost friendly. he only ever hears it when you’re talking to shoko, or geto.

not learning his lesson, gojo opts to tease you, as always. he can’t let the silence linger for too long. it’s a halfhearted attempt, though — more of a vaguely amused huff than anything. 

”what, got a crush on me or somethin’?”

this time, you don’t scoff, or roll your eyes, or give him an earnest fuck right off. you just chuckle, in a way that almost borders on fond. you’re not one to tease, contrary to the boy on your left, but your words are teasing even still. ”i have better taste than that.” 

gojo should be irked, should grumble and shoot something back, but you don’t give him the chance to. 

”i just… you know,” you mumble, tasting the words on your tongue. ”i still think you’re annoying. and childish.” gojo huffs, and your lips curl up. ”but i really don’t dislike you.”

you take a sip of the strawberry milk, before continuing, hoping it’ll make the words easier to say. ”and it’s not like i know you, anyway. so i’m sorry for making a bunch of assumptions.” 

a pause. for a split second, you quiet down, a little embarrassed. ”… that’s all i wanted to say,” you exhale, gaze glued to your lap.

as always, you can’t tell what gojo’s thinking. out of the corner of your eye, you try to catch a glimpse of his face, but you have a nagging suspicion that it wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. his eyes are hidden by those sunglasses, after all, acting as a wall between him and the rest of the world. so you don’t know if the words reach him, if they mean anything at all. 

but you hope they do. even as you brush cherry petals and non-existent dust from your lap, and get up to leave.

gojo just sits there, for a second, deep in contemplation. 

he tries to bury a certain thought, before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex, before he has to accept that it exists — only this time, he doesn’t succeed. 

the words die before they reach his tongue, but he hears them, in his head. and begrudgingly has to accept their existence, after all.

(i don’t really dislike you, either.) 

what actually ends up leaving the confines of his throat is merely a scoff, so faint he doubts you even hear it. ”whatever,” he mutters, hoping it’ll come across as cool and unbothered.

the gruff sound strikes you as just slightly flustered. one last smile reaches your face, before you head back inside. gojo stays behind, on the bench, lost in thought.

you toss the now-empty carton into a trash can, dismissing the stray thought of keeping it as a memento of the interaction. that’d just be creepy. you are happy, though. you feel as if you’ve reached something, the start of an eventual conclusion. something worth cherishing.

you still don’t understand satoru gojo. you get the impression that you just grew a little bit closer to him, though.

there are layers to him, more than what meets the eye. hidden behind those sunglasses of his. you can only imagine what the world might look like, from his perspective. what you look like, reflected in his eyes. 

you feel a little ashamed, for thinking you had him all figured out. a spoiled, self-centered rich kid, with no functional empathic abilities — it might be partially true, but you’ll have to reevaluate the statement, to see how well it holds up. 

the lacking empathic abilities, especially. you still don’t think his emotional intelligence is anything to gawk at, but you may have been underestimating it, a little bit. it’s there, despite everything. in those eyes, in that carton of strawberry milk.

you think there’s a certain maturity, there, in spite of his childishness. or perhaps the latter is no more than a product of the former, a way for damaged children to dress their wounds. the way he carries himself and the way he speaks both seem a bit forced. like he’s used to performing, used to moving in a way that demands attention. 

all eyes on him, at all times. you think that sounds just a tad exhausting. 

as you return to the safety of your room, you still can’t help but ponder. there’s so much you don’t know. despite the moment you shared, and the connection you think may be growing between you, he’s still so out of reach. 

(almost lonely, in a way.)

you wonder what he’s like when he’s alone, when there’s no one around to perform for. what is an actor without their audience?

you don’t understand satoru gojo, not really. not at all, not in the slightest.

but you think you’d maybe like to.

part 0

#i wrote this part a pretty long time ago so tbh i dont think my writing is. v good. but hopefully itll get better by the end LMAO #i love hs gojo soo much hes so cute. so shoujo manga ml. n hes so fun to write in a no curses au #i just feel like gojo is such a gift giver. physically cant apologize but throws ur fave bag of chips at ur head n acts like it wasnt him #hes so silly <33 #next part will b geto’s!!! but itll prob take a while bc my geto bias needs it to be Flawless #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[un-pearable]

nothing like reading old links awakening manga to make me want to draw sonic comics again

#screenshots courtesy of history of hyrule’s scanlation. augh this one is so good #this fight is v sonic but this entire adaptation of links awakening is probably my favorite #was pondering my old plotbunny of a sonic + knuckles links awakening au and went looking for my old manga download and this one is PERFECT #im so tempted to blatantly rip off it’s opening its so good #mayhaps . no promises tragically almost all my comic ideas get stuck in my pretentious ass lineart

[sugarsweetvirgo]

Eve: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.

Seto: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

Eve: Th-that's not how that works-

Actually, the two are pretty open with each other.

#small hastag ramble #but i low-key feel kaiba is like. super mischaracterized when it comes to how he handles emotions #Id absolutely argue that Kaiba is one of the most emotional characters In the entire manga. More than Yugi is even #its just that a majority of the time his emotions are based in anger and hatred. so people see him as bottling up his feelings #when he's honestly the exact opposite. hes VERY open about how he feels and why he feels certain ways #For example Kaiba bluntly telling the gang that he's going to blow up Alcatraz because he hates his stepfather so much #or when Kaiba was very visibly disgusted by the shadow game on the piers with Yugi v Joey #or the numerous amounts of times Kaiba verbally told Atem how much he wants to defeat him. to the point of trembling with desire #Like Kaiba is incredibly open about his emotions. Except that a majority of the time his emotions are based in anger without a resolution #I just think its misinterpreted as him concealing his emotions because he doesn't show a lot of positive ones. but no. he's just that angry #especially since a majority of his actions in the manga are based on his own feelings #anyway sorry for the rant lmao the conversation just drives me nuts #I think he'd absolutely be really open to Eve about how he feels and his frustrations #Kinda using Eve as a sort of rubber duck to vent to a lot #It's also one of the reasons Eve loves Kaiba so much. because he's so brazen about his thoughts and feelings #ssv #oc #yugioh au #giant/tiny #yugiohoc #bondshipping #rant #tag rant #oc x canon #answered asks #ask

[bphantom01]

ARC V MONTH DAY 18 - D/D/D - Different Dimension Day

A kind-of manga-inspired AU (but not rlly? Idrk) Just a lil over 800 words.

A/N: HEADS UP i haven't read all of the manga (literally like only some chapters in, and I forgot reading abt it for a long time. Yeah I should go finish reading that soon… (from what I've heard, excluding that one scene, its good anyway. And it did pique my interest for a bit).

And bc of that, this doesn't take place in any part of the Manga (& only contains some elements from it if ud even count em) so its literally an AU. Also, Yuya & Yuzu aren't here. Let's say they're just sleeping somewhere in their head for this one.

This is kinda inspired by this post & one of @/tetsuya04's (not sure if I should tag u :,)) recent b-girls in the manga art!

Relationships: Light Yuto/Ruri, everything else is platonic (I'm getting bored of writing that lol...)

Warnings: exactly two ‘shit’ words i think

—

‘Over there, Ruri,’ a voice whispered into her mind. ‘That's him, right? Or at least the brother of the guy—the one we knew traveled from the past to this timeline, like us.’

‘Yes, Rin. That's him alright,’ Ruri thought back, peering at a certain boy from the corner of the small bar she was in.

‘Oh good, we finally got him,’ another voice whispered within her mind. ‘One of those Sakakis… Quick, we should get that USB from him while he's just sitting there.’

Ruri sighed. Serena, impatient as usual. ‘Yes, yes. I'm going.’

She stepped out of the shadows unnoticed.

—

‘But Yuri,’ Yuto thought as he drank some chocolate milk. ‘We're doing this for Yuya, remember…? It's for his sake.’

Things have been a bit complicated recently for Yuto and his brothers… And there was the possibility of Yuya knowing the truth and getting caught by Reiji…

Somebody accidentally fell onto him, making him spit some of the chocolate out.

He looked at the floor to see who it was, but he couldn't make out who they were as they sported a midnight blue cloak.

“Ahh, sorry…” The person apologized, kneeling to try and regain themself. By the tone of voice though, he made out that the person was female. “My mind has not been functioning correctly recently… and maybe I had a little too much drinks.”

Yuto smiled at them. “That's alright, ma'am. Do you need help?”

“Oh no, I'm alright. Thank you, though.”

When the person got up, Yuto saw some purple strands of hair spill from the hood of their cloak.

And when the person looked down on him, he was met with the most gorgeous pink eyes he's seen.

Something about them rang a bell in Yuto's heart and mind, almost enough to make him fully remember a memory…

A certain, small memory from a long time ago, one that seemed to be felt with joy and laughter.

It's been a long time since he's recalled something like that that didn't include his brothers.

‘Yuto-nii?’ Yugo called. ‘Why're you frozen? Are you okay?'

‘I'm fine, Yugo.’ “Well then ma'am, suit yourself. Be careful next time.”

“Will do.”

Another chord was struck.

That voice… He hadn't noticed it before, but it was… Familiar.

‘Hey guys… Does that person look familiar to you? And her voice, too?'

‘Well, it certainly made me feel something…’ Yugo mused, his metaphysical self seen only by Yuto and the rest of the brothers observing the woman with wild interest.

‘Yes, I agree with Yugo here. She sure does ring a bell, at least for me, too,’ Yuri agreed. That person sure caught their interest, and in an unusual manner, too.

Yuto decided to try and see who it was. He got up. “Excuse me, ma'am, but can you—’

‘Do you mind me asking about your name?’ Yuri interrupted. ‘Sheesh, know how to be polite, brother.’

“—do you mind me asking about your name?” Yuto quickly corrected, as even if it wasn't necessary, Yuri would continue to insist anyway.

“I do, actually,” she responded, although rather gloomily. “Why'd you want to know my name?”

With the other person, voices raced in her head.

‘Ruri!’

‘Oh come on, there you go again, falling for his charms.’

‘Says the one who keeps teasing her for crushing on him in the first place.’

‘Oh shut up, Rin. And that was years ago.’

‘Girls! Stop it,’ Ruri interfered. ‘I'll try my best… Gee…’

“Just out of curiosity,” Yuto shrugged.

Ruri looked down. “My name…” She paused.

‘Ohhh no…’ Rin said, clearly unamused. ‘Don't—’

“Ruri. Ruri Kurosaki.”

‘Ah, shit. Get ready for the chase.’

That was all it took for Yuto.

Suddenly, it was like a locked chest had suddenly been opened in his mind, causing a plethora of memories to rush their way into his—and his brothers’—brain.

‘What is all this!?’ Yugo exclaimed.

‘Memories, Yugo…’ Yuri clarified, also amazed at the sudden remembering. ‘Memories hidden and abandoned, left to decay and be forgotten because of the mission we set for ourselves to get Yuya out of this mess.’

“Ruri…” Yuto muttered.

If he recalled correctly, he was the sister of a dear old best friend of his, someone named Shun Kurosaki.

And also… His long lost crush. Her… Occasionally, he does think of her and her family… But to see her in person…

“Well, I'm off now,” Ruri nodded, pulling the hood of her cloak to her face, “...Yuto.” She walked to the other side of the bar, where another door was.

She knew his name!

‘Wait, if they're here too...Yuto, the USB, is it still there?’ Yugo asked, floating around him in search of it.

Yuto himself checked his pockets, but the USB wasn't anywhere in them. “Oh, shit…!”

He then looked at Ruri. “Wait, Ruri, how-how'd you get here!? And the USB—”

But before she could answer, she had already left the room.

—

Ending A/N: uhhh i wanted to post this on manga day but decided eh and posted it now.

Now this is just and idea, but I'm thinking of idk maybe writing one one day (don't hope on this too much ill prolly give up on the thing) myself? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ def with more emotion, influence of backstory, & other plot-related things when I may plan the thing.

But if someone else wud/cud do it, I might (emphasis on might) give it a read ;))

#arcvmonth2023 #arcvmonth #arc v #tbh ive been thinking of the manga au for a rlly long time... #but i havent rlly considered actually doing it #yuto arc v #ruri kurosaki #just tagging the physical guys #yugioh arc v #manga au

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @twiloid

"Agreed... I almost thought for a second that your target was also my target, but I didn't sense any magic on him." Don mentally scolded himself for making that assumption, but he wanted to check.

"And yes, I saw your subordinate fight... Almost thought that she had some kind of demonic magic in her, quite reckless to use her damaged limbs like that, but she managed to take down the target." It seems that Nightfall was someone to look out for, especially since she was Twilight's ally... Still, how she fought was impressive, not a lot of people (or demons) fought that way.

"Time is ticking on our ends... If we don't find that renegade demon and stop them... Then the threat of war will remain if they somehow instigate it."

And that wasn't good... Sure, demons could do whatever they want once they were summoned to the living world, but sooner or later, they were banished back to Hell by holy means... At least, that's what he learned... Most demons kept coming back by other means.

He shook his head of the thought, moving to clean and bandage his mortal ally's wound.

"... You made a good choice in sparing the dark-haired gentleman earlier, I'd rather not bring another soul with me back to Hell unless it was my target."

#twiloid #wrathful personified (ic) #v; darker than blood (new hell! AU) #injury cw #blood cw #sxf manga spoilers

[shizukais]

#anime #manga #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd beast #beast au #akutagawa ryuunosuke #v.01

[emily-mooon]

Here have this Jancy Sailor Moon AU WIP I made like 10-20 minutes ago.

#I was too impatient to wait until it was done I need to share it now #I’m going to try and draw more jancy au stuff as I’ve been finding drawing them in that pretty fun #I want to try and draw fanart for all the things I like instead of just making art for one fandom only as my hyperfixations are like #a rollercoaster #also oc content will be there on the side as well #but this jancy au is fun to think about as I do love sailor moon and have read the manga in full alongside sailor v #stranger things #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #jancy #jancy sailor moon au

[araiz-zaria]

Moore: *sobs* ...it's not coming home... *sobs* we're coming home instead... *sobs*

Wellesley: ...aww Johnny it's okay, we gave it a fair shake anyway...

*a wild Lannes with metal hands suddenly jumps into the camera view*

#damn so the euphoria goes on anyhow 🙃 #we got croatia v morocco but at what cost lolsob #drawing #original art #manga #illustration #pen and ink #traditional art #drawing pen #brush pen #fan art #napoleonic #napoleonic era #modern au of sorts #football au #world cup au #john moore #sir john moore #arthur wellesley #duke of wellington #jean lannes #marshal lannes #don't think I'll stop drawing metal hands lannes anytime soon folks so fair warning on this one 😅😂🤣🙈 #it's crack o'clock folks #comic strip #silent comic #sort of #england vs france #world cup

[bloodawakening]

ooc, don't reblog.  SO THAT NEW DM.C AN.IME TRAILER HUH?

#( don't mind me still getting use to tum.blrs new layout and being sidetracked the last while due to irl responsibilitys ) #( but yooo.... I CAN'T WAIT IT LOOKS GOOD ) #( so glad we finally have something after years of not really hearing anything... ) #｡･ ╱╱ out of character † ･｡ #( slowly but surely I will get back to my rp blogs...once i can actually sit down and focus setting things up ) #( I have just been hibernating a lot still ;v; / ) #caps / #( either that new anime is an AU or a re-imagining of the unfinished dm.c 3 manga or 3...) #( I keep popping off bouncing ideas with the twin about it )

[tranquilproof]

I will say tho. I just realised the manga literally just. writes Gaius out as a party member??? Which also made me realise just how little he has to do in the main story.

He never joins the party at all until Canaan appears, because they never get the Waymarker from Wingul, the Odin Waymarker is also skipped but hes not in that chapter either iirc? hes not present for Fractured Milla’s death, and he isn’t brought along for Victor’s FD, and everything between then and Julius dying doesn’t involve him either I think.

So yeah the manga just doesn’t have him join the party until the story is literally over. WOW.

#rip gaius #muzet got more screentime in the manga bc she interacts w fractured milla #but everyone else in x1 is pretty unnecessary besides jude #v #x2 #now that i know how x1 was like i really am like F for the x1 cast #x2 is not a good sequel to the spirit of x1... but. i still adore it more for the x2 exclusive stuff #i still think about an AU where x2 is a standalone story

[drgnbld-a]

WHAT HORROR TROPE ARE YOU?

the haunted house. decrepit and falling apart at the seams; time has not been kind to you, has it? termites have nestled in your bones, and stray cats find comfort in your sinews. you may be victim to time and erosion, but your abandoned corpse remains a refuge for unwanted things. vermin and ghosts thank you. what greater kindness can there be than offering shelter?

#ooc. » electric type enthusiast. #about. #v. manga au.

[ardenssolis]

C.SM verse;

Names: Doesn't mind 'Decay', but likes "O.zymandias". It's a good way to get on his good side if one approaches him and calls him by that very human name.

Type: Decay Devil

Abilities granted: Can give his contractor the ability to make all that they touch begin to decay at a rapid speed as if time has fast forwarded for two minutes and two minutes only. A bullet that enters a wound will now make it so everything around it begins to be eaten away; a blade, a bat -- even one's very skin can become lethal within those two minutes. However, the downside of this ability is that it lingers upon the skin too, thus, can be a danger to an ally. If they were to forget the ability is still active, they could lose fingers, or an entire hand. He isn't interested in joining conflicts, but if his contractor offers a good enough deal, he will physically assist.

Appearance: Due to his friendliness towards most humans and their ability to converse with him, his appearance is quite human as a result. There are a few differences such as his eyes holding a cold, abnormal glow to them, or along his spine with him having, smooth armor-like plates similar to the carapace of an insect like a beetle embedded on the skin. But this can be easily hidden under a shirt, out of sight, out of mind. Even though he does appear eerily human save for certain aspects of himself, he will make it clear that he hates humans, yet fancies them too.

A Devil that is the manifestation of humanity's fear of decay, he is often uninterested in other Devils most of the time, and equally as uninterested in humans on a good day. However, lack of interest does not equal lack of killing. His 'friendliness' is like a roller coaster, which means it can shift and change at any given time depending on his mood when he is approached. As a result, some Devils are afraid to come near him and any Hunter who wishes to form a contract is just as uncertain where the wind will blow.

Since all humans fear decay, whether it be the reminder of old age approaching each time they look in the mirror as cells break down quietly in the background, catching a glimpse of a dead bird in the petrification stage, or stepping into an old building and seeing things devoured by the elements of time, he is rather powerful as a result. But with great power comes great laziness, thus to earn his favor, he is rather particular about whomever desires to form a contract. If someone he deems ugly does so, he will often give them a rather 'heavy' deal. They might have to give up one of their favored senses, an eye, their ability to taste, to hear -- such being on the 'nicer' end. If he really isn't feeling them that individual, they may have to offer up things like two years of their life each time they use his powers, for example. A seemingly 'small' thing, yet it builds up with time.

For those he considers pleasant on the eyes, though, he is far more generous. Instead, he is sometimes more than content with taking some of their blood as an offering. However, he is not loyal in the slightest, just like many Devils are not either. If he feels the situation is dangerous even for him, he will up the price by tenfold. Instead of giving a bit of blood that might make someone feel a little dizzy afterwards, he now wants more, perhaps enough to make someone fall dangerously close to critical. Instead of just ONE sense, he now desires another.

#[-THINK EMOJI- I might make a d.evil hunter verse too #but we'll see #basically demon ozy but not as 'nice' and a lot more selfish KJHFKSDHKF #me looking up lists of humans fears that haven't been used in the manga yet #mold was similar but like...I think...I am in the green...for now] #;v: decay #;;au (c.sm) #;;alternate verse

[redxriiot]

BNHA AU where post-War, Shigaraki and AFO have been successfully separated and Tomura survives it all abd is apprehended, and sent to a facility to be reformed. And his most frequent visitor is Mirio. Who has every intention to help him, make his time there easier, and overall just be a friend to him

#bnha manga spoilers #//I mean; TECHNICALLY? #//Considering Mirio is Tomura's No.1 advocate even after all the destruction and his friends near getting killed #//Now wasn't THAT a shocker #//Mans really saw signs of Tomura in through the AFO possession and was like 'Is anybody gonna help him?' and dID NOT WAIT FOR AN ANSWER #//I say facility for reform instead of prison bc you BET I can believe Mirio would advocate for this man #//And ask to be involved in his betterment. or at the very least; keep him company through his consequences #//Tomura finding him 100% irritating at first; not wanting any of his 'pity'; not TRUSTING him #//But Mirio is determined to show him he's genuinely there for him. genuinely WANTS to be friends and help him ay way he can #//Barring breaking him out or hurting anyone; anyways #//Well #//MAYBE bends a few rules to prank/get back at anyone mistreating Tomura #//Or to amuse him #//Sees about possibly bringing a gaming system in there to hang out with Tomura further along the line #//If not just games from nearby him while Tomura backseat games him and snarks whenever Mirio getsbhis ass kicked #//Idk; it's V self-indulgent #//But i love it #//So I'm putting the idea out there to be used if not by myself jehrb #plot ideas #//That possibility and pspspsp KIT I HAVE A NEW AU- #;mun has spoken #//I just really LOVE the idea of this hero and villain duo. they tickle my brain

[rikyos]

@ilvaites   sent   :    ✿            /          pre-established   relationship    meme   2.0     (     accepting     )

azula

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies / adventure buddies /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  / [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract /  ride or die  /  frenemies  / roommates or flatmates /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.    childhood sweethearts  / [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  / secret relationship /  opposites attract /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  / friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other

FAMILIAL.    siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other

#macy i am #kjhfgd prefacing this with the fact that i. don't know the first thing about atla !!! #but that's okay we will MAKE IT WORK i promise #i'm basing this off ur info and a quick look at her wiki page too but we'll definitely come up with something more solid #just through talking abt them 😭 #anyway !!! #i am seeing some similarities between them esp where it concerns coming from a family with big. weighted. expectations #and all of the pressure that comes with that #the difference being that for kazuha that doesn't result in some catastrophic failure on his part but just. #the building sense of incompetence that comes with not being capable / free to do anything about it ? #i also think they deal with that v differently... #so maybe there's something we can do with this !!!! #altho i am also STARING at azula's modern au and i think that it would be fun if i came up with a verse that would be compatible with that.. #we'll come up with something good okay #answered tbt. #ilvaites #unrelated side note #i was fully planning on writing up a bsd verse so maybe we can throw yosano or chuuya together with kazu too..... #i just want to read the manga first </3

[dadsbongos]

my type?

4.3 K words

summary - Yuuji Itadori is a total knockout boyfriend - the only hitch? You’re nothing like his usual type of woman, and it’s making you unsure.

warnings - 18+!, femreader with jugs and vagene, p in v sex, unrealistic car sex, specifically stated that reader is non-tall with big tits, dumbification for both parties, squirting, non-curse AU where sukuna and yuuji are brother-roommates, unprotected sex

Itadori, Yuuji was an amazing boyfriend - something straight out of a top-selling shoujo manga.

Faithful and doting and affectionate. He handed over his hoodies the moment you mentioned an unpleasant breeze, he proudly held your hand in public, and he boasted about the very act of dating you to anyone with ears. But even those displays felt backhanded, the deeper you dug into your own mind. You had no real reason to complain about the situation.

And you especially had no reason when the cause behind your complaints would be so shallow.

You had an ass in the same way that everybody else did, but nothing comparable to the pin-up poster Yuuji tore down when you two started dating. Or his celebrity fascination, Jennifer Lawrence (which also mysteriously stopped being mentioned when you two started dating).

Rather, your body was much more endowed in ways that made Nobara tease as you passed lingerie stores with hot pink lighting and black walls and heavy busts plastered in the windows. She’d snag you by the sleeve and point, just to watch how you scoff and look away.

Yuuji pointedly ignores those stores. He ignores everything in relation to them.

You’d picked this shirt just for tonight. It dips low into your cleavage, just tight enough to still push up the tender meat of your breasts. Not to mention the color - deep crimson, Yuuji’s favorite. Well, at least the closest you’ll ever get to a favorite color with his indecisive nature.

Yuuji sits across from you at the scratched table. When his eyes aren’t scavenging the conveyor belt for small, shiny, colored plates serving anything that may catch his eye, they’re on your face. And only your face.

Normally something you’d absolutely cheer over - if this were a first date, but the fact is that this is one of many dates. And after so many dates that you can’t count anymore, you’re starting to want Yuuji’s eyes to drift.

You want him to look and you want to watch him sweat and go red. You’re starting to need it.

The need only grows more apparent mere days later.

Yuuji keeps his hands stubbornly on your hips, barely making an imprint from outside your clothes. But you choose not to make a fuss since he’s otherwise fully engrossed with keeping his lips pasted to yours. Your hands are sweaty and hot on Yuuji’s cheeks, you just know they are, but he doesn’t seem to mind when he lets you hold him close and grind on him.

Yet his palms are stiff against you. They don’t feel warm or cold or clammy or moist. They just… are. He chokes back every groan and huff and you almost feel embarrassed to be letting out hitches and breathy moans so freely in comparison.

Puffing your chest out, you can feel your breasts pillowing against Yuuji and you’re hoping to tempt him to move his hands up. Under your shirt and bra with bare skin on bare skin. The idea makes you mewl, dragging your hips harder against his and further pushing out your tits for him to grope.

And suddenly, his stiff hands are picking you up off his lap, sliding you beside him on your couch. Yuuji grins, standing and swiping his hands down the legs of his sweatpants before planting a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry, gotta pee.”

“Oversharing!” you call after his retreating form.

When Yuuji returns, he sits down and rewinds the movie you two had put on earlier. He frowns and murmurs about how much the both of you missed. When you don’t turn back to the TV immediately, Yuuji smiles again and kisses your cheek.

Your gut twists unpleasantly.

And that need festers into utter desperation by just the next afternoon.

“Hey, Yuuji,” you come up from behind your boyfriend, arms dangling over the back of his couch and framing his shoulders. You place your chin on his head, staring at the intense cooking competition he’s watching, “So, I know I just got here… but! I’ve got a small, teensy errand to run.”

“Mhm?” he tilts his head back to meet your eyes, “Want me to go with you?”

His offer has you nodding, trying to smother down the bright simper he threatens to drag out of you, “Yeah, if you’re not busy.”

Sucking in air noisily through his teeth, Yuuji gestures out to the show he lazes in front of, “I dunno, babe, I am watching TV.”

“Very funny,” you back away from his couch, already heading to the door to tug your shoes on, “Just saying, you don’t have to come with if you don’t want to,” Yuuji always wants to come with, you like that about him, “Just getting some new bras.”

Your current ones are fine, but maybe a stuffy changing room is that nudge he needs.

“Oh,” your boyfriend pauses, eyes widening, “Uh. You might want to take Kugisaki for that, she’d know more than me,” he can’t even look at you, “I’m not really the kinda person you’d want around for that.”

You almost ask what he means by that, but the rejection has fried your brain to a gray, crunchy crisp. The kind of fry that looks like it could flake apart with a harsh jab. Again, that terrible, awful knotting in your stomach returns, but you carry on. Because if you claimed to no longer need this errand ran, then he might know what your scheme was - and that was far worse than whatever this hell was.

So you nod slowly and meekly call out that you love him before exiting the door. He says he loves you more.

You really wish you asked what he meant.

Finally, desperation comes to a head when you meet Yuuji’s friend - Todo, Aoi.

Todo, Aoi, who stares at you - eyes narrow as he judges each wrinkle in your clothes and jitter of your muscles - then turns to Yuuji, and asks point-blank, “Did you lie about your type, then, brother?”

Yuuji rips the hand in his pocket out and cuts it across his neck in a slicing motion, mouthing a couple of rude ‘shut up’s. You lean into Yuuji’s side, squeezing the hand he lays in yours tighter. It isn’t sweaty. And it isn’t very warm, either.

Aoi doesn’t seem very upset at the idea, “I’m happy you’re happy,” you look down at your shoes when he glances back over at you, “I was excited when I thought we had the same type.”

No, you weren’t very tall. And no, your butt wasn’t exceptionally big. You fell on the more mediocre sides of those categories, the thing you excelled in (what you thought most guys were thrilled over) was having a large bust.

“Dude!” Yuuji hits Aoi in the shoulder. Hard, “Shut up!”

He squeezes your hand so tight you think it might bruise.

“Sorry, brother,” Aoi, you were warned, was extremely unusual - little to no boundaries and almost inept at social interactions outside of fighting. He does seem sympathetic enough, turning to you, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

It’s all so sickening. How you wish Yuuji would hurry up and show interest in shallow things. How you place personal esteem on this whole fiasco. How right Aoi is. How badly you’re letting everything affect you.

The ringing in your ears, for example. The way you no longer think you can stomach whatever Aoi was cooking tonight. The shortness of your breath.

You try to push it down. Tonight is supposed to be fun.

Yuuji shoves his friend, much more lightheartedly than his previous blow, and goes to kiss your forehead - but hesitates. His smile is uneven, “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he squeezes your hand, “I love you,” then, apologetically, he smooths his thumb over the sore spots where he clenched your hand, “I love you so much.”

And you know that. You know it like you know your favorite movie.

Tonight was supposed to be fun.

He loves you, you know that - what you don’t know, is if he wants you. Doesn’t he get sweaty palms like you? Doesn’t he feel his intestines tie into bunches of little knots like you? Doesn’t he get all hot in the face like you? Doesn’t he want you like you want him?

It’s humiliating to imagine that he doesn’t, and the mere idea makes you so nauseous you think you might hurl at this very moment.

Maybe your boyfriend just doesn’t find you as attractive as you want him to.

Maybe you should give up this repetitive scheme.

The car is quiet, unbearably so. Your knees are angled away from Yuuji defiantly, legs pushed to the far side of your seat so it’d be a hassle for him to reach out and hold your thigh. You used to think it meant something when he did that, but now it seems as though he’s doing it out of duty. Like holding the door for someone behind you. Or offering your seat on the bus to elderly passengers. Simple acts of simple kindness.

The most basic peacekeeping, if anything.

Yuuji peeks at you without turning away from the road, hands tightening around the steering wheel, “Are you upset?”

You could be snippy. You could even opt to not respond.

But you do neither, “Yeah.”

He sighs through his nose, “Seriously, don’t listen to Todo. He doesn’t know anything.”

Now, you’re a little snippy. To point out that Aoi’s being stupid isn’t uncalled for, but to claim he doesn’t know exactly what stupid shit he’s saying is.

“He has a point.”

“Huh?” Yuuji turns his head fully to look at you, something he only does because the quiet backroad home is empty, “What’re you talking about?”

Only flickering, crooked, rusty street lamps are witness to your impending breakdown. Your boyfriend returns his stare to the road. Crickets sing outside and the wind flattens over long grass that shines under moonlight.

“Yuuji,” sinking into your seat, you ignore his eyes, “You can’t seriously say you have no idea,” he’s quiet, lips pressed thinly, “Since we met, practically everybody has known your type. I knew you had a type! It was a shock to our friends when we got together! And now that we are…”

Pulling off into the grassy plain lining your way home, Yuuji slips the key from the ignition and unclicks his seatbelt to really examine you. His eyes scramble over you, every part the sensitive, concerned boyfriend you know and treasure. He pouts, but it’s in earnest; hurt simply because you’re hurt.

“And now that we are?”

“Why don’t you look at me?”

“I look at you!” he rubs the back of his neck, now quirking a brow at you, “I look at you all the time.”

“No,” you whine like a petulant child, hands coming up to cover your face, “It’s different!”

Aoi’s words just won’t stop creeping up your spine. Yuuji setting you aside on the couch. Yuuji insisting that you bring Nobara to a lingerie store instead of him. He was lying to someone, right? Was it to Aoi or you?

But everybody had seen that poster, and everybody could hear him declare his preferences.

“It’s way different,” you’re so humiliated you’re nauseous, your voice wobbles.

Yuuji tenderly takes your wrists, dragging down your hands. His smile is squiggly, brows high to his forehead, “Talk to me, pretty girl. You want me to look at you?” you nod, “So tell me what you mean by that.”

You almost hate how soft his voice is. It makes it so hard to be upset.

“I’m not your type,” your eyes trail the way Yuuji’s fingers dance around yours, “And every time I try to… you know, get you to think of me as something other than just cute or pretty - you turn me down. I feel like you don’t find me attractive.”

“Oh, like sexually?”

“Mhmm,” you nod glumly. When he’s quiet for just a couple of seconds too long, you ask, “Did you know what I was trying to do?”

“Kind of,” Yuuji’s cheeks are growing red, eyes now abandoning your entwined hands to stare out the windshield, “I do find you attractive - that’s a little bit of the problem.”

“What?”

He sucks in a breath sharply, engulfing your hands completely with his and squeezing (much more mindfully this time), “I’m crazy about you,” he can tell you don’t believe him, “It scares me a little,” he pulls his hands away and cradles his own over his lap, “I’m worried that if I give in, I’ll scare you off… like I’m too eager or something.”

“Yuuji!” you adjust in your seat, moving sideways and finally letting your knees face your boyfriend again, “You wouldn’t scare me off by being eager about my body! That’s a good thing, right? When we’re both into each other, that’s good!”

“No, I mean,” he’s gone rouge all the way up to his ears now, a fire bright in his chest, “I want you so bad it makes me feel like all my skin’s burning. My hands get all gross and sweaty so I have to wipe them on my pants, and- and I can’t think straight,” he’s still not looking at you, but the way he’s pressing his arms down on his crotch tells you he wants to, “Even now, I think I’m going crazy just imagining you…”

You sit up on your knees, leaning over the center console just to watch your boy squirm at the invasion of space, “Imagining me?” he nods shakily, “Imagining me how?”

He whines, turning his head and pressing his scorching face into your neck, “You know how.”

“Come on, pretty boy,” you kneel over the console entirely, squeezing behind the wheel to settle on Yuuji’s lap - slapping away his hands from the growing tent in his baggy pants, “Entertain me, please?”

“Imagining you under me, on me, between my legs,” his hands fly to your hips, palms slipping up under your shirt, and, God, his palms are sweaty, “Any way you’ll have me,” you cup his cheeks and press messy kisses to his lips. Yuuji’s hands roam further up your shirt, fingertips teasing under the cups of your bra, “Any way I can see your tits.”

“I thought you were more into ass,” your bravado falls under his admission, suddenly bashful.

Yuuji closes his eyes, swallowing hard while pushing his hands under your bra, he can feel his heartbeat all the way at the back of his throat. His rough palms cupping the soft, fleshy fat on your chest, “As if that matters,” his brows knit, hips subconsciously jerking up into yours, “I’m a horny guy: my hot girlfriend has big boobs, and I’m obsessed with her big boobs.”

“Just ‘cuz you’re horny?” you tease, grinding down on the bump of his hard cock. His loose pants let him spring up under your skirt, knocking into your panty-clad cunt.

“Nah,” his eyes flutter open, sweaty palms moving around your back and clumsily unhooking your troublesome bra. It takes him three tries, “I like every part of you all the time…” the tip of his tongue parts his lips in hard concentration, “Your whole body makes me feel like I’m full of bugs.”

“‘Full of bugs?!’” you snort, lifting your arms so Yuuji can yank off your shirt and bra in one ungraceful motion.

“In a good way,” he promises, eyes locked on your heaving chest. You can hear the thick breaths he struggles through, “‘m so nervous and horny at the same time, it feels like bugs in my stomach.”

“What’re you nervous for?”

“‘Cuz I wanna make you cum, but I’m worried I’ll cream my pants before we even get to it,” he finally looks into your eyes, he smiles at you with flaming cheeks and palms at your breasts, “It was so hard making sure I kept it together… Been jerkin’ off every night thinking of you - ask Sukuna, he’ll tell you. It’s been embarrassing.”

“Augh, Yuuji!”

“It’s true!”

It makes your palms hot and sweaty, the image of him so desperate. All for you.

“Hm,” you croon, grinding against your boyfriend’s cock, back arching to press your tits closer to his face, “Yuuji...”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Yuuji sucks one of your nipples between his lips and laves it with his tongue. He bucks up against your wetting panties. Pulling away from your nipple with a soft pop, Yuuji stares up at you with another earnest, flustered pout, “Can you take it out for me?”

As if you could forget what he’s talking about, he humps you again.

“Please, take it out,” he cranes his neck to run his warm, wet tongue over your other, unattended nipple.

“Aw,” you didn’t think seeing your big, energetic boyfriend act so pathetic would set you on fire the way it does. One of your hands stretches down between you and Yuuji, wrangling down his pants with him lifting his hips to help, “Do you want me to play with your cock?”

He hums against your breast, nodding eagerly, “Yuh- yeah- ! Please?”

Your fingers wrap around the warm softness of Yuuji’s erection, thumb playfully nudging his mushroom tip’s slit. He throws his head back, ricocheting against the car seat headrest with a throaty groan.

Giggling, you lean in to kiss the sensitive spot just under Yuuji’s jaw, hand still working up Yuuji’s weeping cock, “Having a good time, honey?”

“Uh-huh,” he unwinds his arms around you to grasp your hips once again, fingers bruising at your sides, “Feels so good - so, so good…”

“Who’s making you feel good, Yuuji?”

“You!” his right thigh twitches under you, “You, you - ‘s always you!”

“Always me?”

His chuckle breaks off into a slack-jawed moan, “Said I jerk off to you every night, didn’t I?” he reaches for your wrist, “Wait, wait!”

“Were you…?” so soon?

“I told you!” now he’s the one whining like a petulant brat, “I don’t wanna cum before you, but you just make it so hard.”

So soon.

Your thighs squish around Yuuji’s, hips grinding on nothing - desperate in search of friction.

“You like that?” he sounds breathless, staring at you as you watch his bobbing cock. All red at the head and straining against your hand, “You’re so mean, babe.”

“I like it a lot,” you sit up, lips finding Yuuji’s drool-slicked ones, “I like knowing I have that effect on you.”

“Since I first saw you, I think,” he admits, hands skimming under your skirt now, “Can I… ?”

You nod, holding tightly to Yuuji’s shoulders while you lean on one leg. You could, theoretically, drag your panties down your lifted leg by yourself - but Yuuji stubbornly joins your hand all the way down to your ankle.

Before trying to slip inside you, Yuuji cups your hot sex. His chest tightens, middle finger shakily tracing along your soaked cunt. Tongue lolling back out of his mouth, Yuuji tucks your nipple back into his mouth when he inserts his finger in your hole. Trying to keep his mind as busy as possible so he can stop thinking about how badly he needs to bury himself inside you.

“Yuuji,” your breathing is ragged, already lowering yourself before he even pulls his finger out of you, “I’m so past ready.”

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles against the swell of your tit, teasing his teeth against the full flesh, “I dunno if I’ll be able to get in…” he chuckles to himself, lightheaded when he taps the head of his cock against your clit, “Might slip right out, huh?”

“Stop teasing,” you cradle Yuuji’s head to your chest, arms thrown around his neck, “You’re the mean one.”

“I know, I know,” he lowers in his seat, pressing himself finally, finally, finally inside your pussy. Your tits press even closer to his face when you gasp at the stretch, “I’ve been ignoring my poor pretty girl this whole time,” he says it so mournfully, so heartfelt, “So selfish, just thinking of my pride - I didn’t even wonder how my girl felt.”

“Ahh, Yuuji,” you moan, piercing your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he pushes down on your hips, lowering you on his stiff cock until your thighs are flush with his soft pants. They’re a little wet. You don’t care much, and you don’t think Yuuji does either right now. He screws up into you, one arm tight around your waist to pull you down into his thrusts and the other hand finding your slippery clit, “I’m so sorry, angel, can you forgive me?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” his fingers work quick circles on your nerves as he fucks you and you’re barely able to scramble together the words (let alone carry those words out in a sensible form), “Yes - ah! - yes, Yuuji!”

There’s something in the way he twists his hips this time because his cock beats into a particular spot that sends white sparks through your veins. You snap back, head hanging and forcing your bouncing tits directly in Yuuji’s face. Before you can even begin to beg, your big, energetic (and maybe a little pathetic) boyfriend is already nodding to himself.

“Right there, angel?” his fingers leave your clit to press down on where his cock batters your insides, “Is that it? Want me right here?”

“Please!” you squeal, thighs quivering and lungs fresh out of air.

“Uh-huh,” he keeps nodding, head too empty to realize he doesn’t need to anymore, “Uh-huh, anything for you… fuckin’ anything…”

When your lower half burns out, Yuuji keeps you upright - fully fucking up into you at that same spot he pushes down on your tummy. The need to cum burns every nerve in your body - it burns and burns and burns until it changes.

Something fuller and more familiar - in a more daily-life kind of way.

“Ah, Yuuji,” your hands perch on his shoulders, body bouncing with the weight of Yuuji’s hips slinging into yours, “I think- ! It feels like- !”

“Talk to me, angel,” dumbly, he looks up at you, almost snickering, “‘Entertain me.’”

“Feels like ‘m gonna pee,” you try warning him, you really do.

But something behind his eyes just shines brighter, grin widening and he actually laughs, “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Fuck yeah,” he stares, wide-eyed, at where you’re creaming on his cock, “You gonna squirt on me, baby?” his foolish nodding quickens with his hips, “Squirt all over me, angel, I want it - want it so bad. Soak my car, oh,” his pretty mouth circles into an ‘O’ just at the thought, “Please, please soak my fucking car!”

Your head jerks back, nails digging into Yuuji’s shoulders, throat snapping raw as you cry out braindead mixtures of your boyfriend’s name and pleas for more and harder and his cum.

He moves the hand on your tummy to swish your clit and spread your mess as far as he can, mouth popping open almost instinctively just to catch stray droplets of your cum in his mouth. One day (tomorrow) he might regret (will definitely regret) intentionally making you spray cum all over his front, and even back, seats, but right now he couldn’t possibly imagine not doing it.

“‘m gonna cum,” he grits his teeth, moans choked back in his throat, “‘m gonna cum - where?” before he can ask again, you find the strength to swivel your hips down on him, “Inside?”

“Inside!” you sob, chest tight and eyes watering at the overstimulation of Yuuji still swirling a thumb on your clit, “Cum inside, Yuuji!”

“Fu- ck,” he squeezes the word out of his chest, seating you fully on his lap when his cock throbs. He juts his chin out towards you when he starts cumming, “Kiss me?”

And you waste no time throwing yourself forward to press chaste, sweet kisses on Yuuji’s drooling lips. He hums and whimpers into your mouth, greedily drinking in the taste of your lips on his. As if he’d been starved of it his entire life.

Yuuji keeps you against him, the both of you slowly coming back down to Earth.

His sopping pants are beginning to cool underneath you.

“Ugh,” you groan at the feeling, “I think we made a mistake.”

“Yeah…” Yuuji sighs, “Oh well. Can’t unfuck in the car now.”

You’re kind of dreading pulling off Yuuji’s soft cock - if you hadn’t done enough to ruin Yuuji’s pants before, then that most certainly will.

Yuuji sighs again, heartier, hands coddling your hips and tenderly rubbing circles into your bone. His eyes fall to your breasts and remain there, “I really am sorry, angel. I- I never, ever wanted you to feel like I didn’t want you.”

Because he does. Good, God, he always does.

Every time he sees you, his hands get all sweaty and his cheeks are hot and his stomach twists into jumbles of knots.

“It hurt,” you admit, “but it’s fine now,” you giggle at the idea of him apologizing over trying to be respectful, “It isn’t like you were being a dick, you know?”

“Yeah, but! Ugh!” he clenches a hand over his heart dramatically, frowning, “I hurt my girlfriend’s feelings. My sweet girl :( “

“You’re cute,” you kiss one of Yuuji’s fiery cheeks, “Okay, help me off.”

“Oh, yeah, huh,” he stretches over your shoulder to wring your panties back up your leg, “It’ll be unpleasant, but I think you need to wear these back to your apartment.”

“I’ll live,” you pick at the elastic to Yuuji’s pants and snap them back against his sweaty thigh, “Can’t be worse than this, pee pants.”

“Hey, it’s not pee,” he pouts once again tonight, “And be nice.”

You shake your head, leaning down to press your lips against Yuuji’s once again. Soaking in the taste like you’d been starved of it your entire life, “Never.”

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