NOOO WE LOVE LONG FICSđđđđđđđđđđđđ
good âď¸ to âď¸ know âď¸
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is 6k words (and possibly even more) on the emperor!gojo fic too much?
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âyou look too pretty to be going out without meâ
satoruâs eyes follow your every move as you sit on the chair in front of the vanity table, applying balm on your lips with the tip of your finger (getting ready to go out with the girls only).
he walks over to you from behind and leans in enough to rest his chin on your shoulder and take a closer look at your reflection in the mirror. âwaaaay too prettyâ, he corrects himself, his puffy lips forming some semblance of a childish pout.
âand thatâs a bad thing because?â, you peek back at him in the mirror.
he knits his brows. âbecause other men existâ
âand?â
âthey will look at youâ
âand?â
âthey will like what they seeâ, he drags out through a whine.
âitâs not like i careâ, you shrug.
âbut i do. they shouldnât look, youâre mine.â
âyou said it yourselfâiâm yours, so whatâs the problem?â
âthe problem isâthey donât know thatâ
âand what can i do about that? walk around with a label hanging from my neck that says i belong to you?â
âmaybe. or maybeââ, he pauses. reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a tiny box. âor maybe you should wear thisâ, he continues while turning your chair to the side to make enough room to kneel down in front of you.
âi think this will get the message through to those other men that look at you, and let them know youâre off limits. what do you think about that?â
others might think heâs too unserious to be proposing to you like this. but the truth is, heâs never been this serious about anything in his life before. because there, in that tiny box, is the ring heâs been carrying around for months. delaying the big question out of sheer dread that you might say no.
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i never realized how painful long fics were!!!
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so im halfway done with two fics, but idk which one i should post by the end of this week!
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guys i ran into the finest man wearing a BLACK COMPRESSION SHIRTTT .. all while i had glasses on and my hair half upđ
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Hey! I know thereâs also a writers block (which you definitely have from time to time) but Iâm curious, do you ever have readers block? like whether itâs fics on here or even actual books?
nonnie you did not have to call me out like that TT but i usually consume fics like crazy (my ao3 history goes crazy), so i wouldnât say i get it often
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How reader reacted when she figured out her feelings:
*watches satoru annoy suguru from far away*
Shoko: you ok? You havent talked in a minute
Y/n: ... Shit.
iâm such a sucker for the oh. oh. trope.
but rsd!au [name] would probably go to sleep PRAYING that their revelation was just mere delusion, only to be humbled when she gets incredibly jealous the next time sheâs out with satoru and heâs getting hit on.
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whatâs yours is mine (2/?)
previous masterlist next
pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru
You donât know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends youâve made arenât something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, youâre more than happy to give your all until you wither away.
Whatâs yours can be theirs, too. Theyâre your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)
You donât think your eyes are even able to leave, donât think that theyâre capable of ripping away from the sway of smooth silk-like noir. You notice the sharp up-curve of the nose, the flair of poise in his gaze. His features are tender, yet so sharp⌠It was like looking at some sort of doll.
You can see his lips part, mouthing words that you canât seem to make out as he picks up a much smaller box, smile on his face soft with excitement, slowly curling into a laugh that you canât hearâŚ
And you just canât help but think how pretty he looks.
Thereâs curiosity glimmering in your eyes, the uncertainty in the neutral, almost blank look on your face as youâre practically mesmerized by the sight. What sort of feeling is this? Is it normal? Are you meant to feelâ
âPah, itâs just some kid and his parents.â He practically has poison on his tongue, spitting them out with restrained irritation as he sticks his tongue out at the boy. âBleghhhh, who even needs to look at âem, right?â Heâs huffing a bit once he sees him disappear into the home, glad that was over and done with, hopping off the stool and chubby hand reaching for your curtain tie to draw them close.
Your eyes donât need to see him. You have him, right? He looks to you for affirmation, for your complianceâ
Only to be met with your silence, body still and eyes stuck onto the drawn curtainsâ The baby blue of the fabric starting to swirl your mind with perplexing images as your stare turns blank and your eyes go out of focus.
Youâre not paying attention to him anymore⌠And that doesnât sit quite right with your one and only friend.
He slaps a hand over your eyes, turning your sight dark and obscured and distracted. âDonât look at him.â You can feel a slight sting from the impact, can feel how warm his hand is against your skin as you reach up to pat at himâ To let you see again, please.
âStrangers are dangerous!â You know that. âHas your Mama never taught you that you shouldnât approach kids you donât know?!â You can hear the pouting grumbles, can hear how mad he is at the appearance of this supposedly ânew kidâ.
âSatoruâŚâ Youâre kind of confused about his behaviour, your words starting to trail off into a tone of uncertainty and slight fear. Does he not realize it?
âIâm a new kid tooââ
âYâer different!â He lets out a huff as he grabs onto your hand, tugging you towards him lightly, telling you to get off. âDonât ask me to explain, okay!â
And you just blink at him, unintentionally hitting a nerve.
âWhat, ya wanna be friends with him or something?â He looks offended, a curve of his eyebrows downwards and crossed arms, feet planted themselves firmly into the tatami mats of your floor as you catch what looks suspiciously like the bristling of his hair. âYâer not allowed to be friends with anyone from this neighbouââ
Your eyebrows furrow. âBut heâs not from this neighbourhoodâ He just moved in, remember?â
âThatâs not my point! The idea is thatââ
âHeâs pretty, though.â An interruption to his little spiel, eyes glancing back at the drawn curtains of your window. Does Satoru not think so too? You didnât know people could look like that.
âWhaâ Well, so am I!â Oh, so Satoru does agree. Thatâs enough to have you humming slightly, eyes turning into an up-curve and smiling at your friend. Youâre glad he agrees. Now you both have one more similarity added to the list.
What was, unbeknownst to you, not similar right now, was his seething irritation as he watches you think about his claim.
âMmâŚâ Your face grows oddly serious as you slowly step off the stool, your small feet shuffling forwards to better stare at your blue-eyed friend. Your face is close, your toes on the edge as you really lean in to get a closer look, to really look him in the eye now that itâs too dark without the sunlight shining in.
Youâve never given much thought to Satoruâs looks beyond the surface level of âcuteâ.
Your scrutinization of his face leaves him quiet, leaves him to glare and pout back at you despite the close proximity. Like he was imploring you to look all you want, didnât mind that you were coming this close to inspect the features of his face.
So you take your time to think, to ponder⌠To really have time to learn about his every characteristic.
You like the way his cheeks always looked full and red, always soft looking and squishy under your touch, liked the way his nose curved upwards at just that certain point and the cute scrunches he always does.
You liked his eyes, the sparkling blue akin to the shimmering ponds reflected by a sunny day, always glittering and shiny when they smiled at you. You liked how his hair, despite the sharp tips and messy stylingâ Looked purposeful and proper in a cute, rugged way. It suits him.
Every trait, suits him perfectly. You donât know anybody else who would be able to pull off his looks the way he does, pull off that funny, stuck-up attitude he has⌠Because it wouldnât be the same if it wasnât him.
Maybe you just have an odd sense for beauty, or have an eye set on looking for something else. You think that maybe some people might find him to be, while some not at all. Butâ Thatâs not the point now, is it? Whatâs important now is what you think. You could compare him to many pretty things in the world, the skies for his eyes, the clouds for his hairâ Itâs not as simple as you think it is.
(And⌠Which word is better anyway? You canât exactly ask Mama right now.)
So you close your eyes. What would he be to you if you canât see him anymore? If you one day lose your sight, lose your only way of seeing the world, how would you remember him?
You think you would remember the way he smells like fabric cleaner, his soft clothing always having the same scent of refreshing chill, of vibrant sun and summer breezes.
You think you would remember how much you like him, how much you love him for being your first friend. A memory that you vow to hold clear in your head no matter how much time passes. You want to keep being his friend, until youâre clapping at his wedding, until you grow old and wrinkly and ugly, until youâre sleeping away in one of those boxesâ
You have your answer.
You smile, leaning back so that the balls of your feet are back on solid ground, away from the airiness and lightheaded feel. The best compliment you can give him, the one you think suits him best.
âNo.â Your eyes reflect too much light, happy joy and too much satisfaction for him to truly believe you, anticipation drying his lips as he awaits your continuation.
âYouâre cute, Satoru. Not pretty.â And he believes you now, as much of the moment you had ruined for him as his pout and staunch attitude grow ever bigger.
âWhat?!â
Oh. You blink at him, expression taking on another look of blank neutrality and confusion. You thought you had said it pretty loudly. âI said,â You need to take another breath in, trying to project your voice ever louder than before. âYouâre cute, Satoru. Not prettyââ
âI heard you the first time!â Heâs still in disbelief, pushing up against your face with his own pouting one, getting all up in your face to glare at you.
Was he not satisfied with that answer? You say heâs cute, because he is. The cutest in theâ You should apologise if heâs this upset.
âSorrââ
âDonât apologise!â Heâs grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth as you just⌠Let him do it.
âSorryââ A glare. Youâll be quiet now⌠Or do you?
âI would still like you best no matter what, Satoru.â
(âIs that a promise?â)
ââ
âThat sign,â A chubby, almost dainty looking finger points at it. âYa see? It says itâs Gojo property. Means itâs mine.â His feet are kicking up sand, the creaks of the metal filling your ears as you let yourself tune into his words.
Youâd have to remember how to recognize them later.
âSome letters and stuff were also sent out to the neighbourhood to let âem know their snotty kids arenât allowed here.â He looks proud, smug. Bragging away at the fact that this was his playground as he continues to swing himself back and forth, with you sat right next to him on the other seat.
You stare off into the sky, noticing that the clouds looked fluffier, whiter today. More reminiscent of Satoruâs hair, more alike the puff up of his head when he wakes up from a nap beside you.
âAnd âcause ya canât read yet, you ended up trespassing.â
Signs canât exactly stop anyone if they canât read, can they? Or is it your fault you didnât learn more words?
âSorâ Iâll ask Mama to make more cookies.â Youâre trying to apologize less. Itâs tough, but youâre making an effort.
âYa better!â And it goes silent after. Itâs not uncomfortable, not one bit. Youâve never really been the type to enjoy talking to much, anyway. You like the silence, like it when itâs just you both, the swings, and the setting sun in the sky. You notice how you can see how the orange starts to glow against your skin, how the pinks in the sky look much lovelier than usual.
You like days like these.
âOh right.â The creaks still all too suddenly. âI got something for you.â You can see him jump off the swing, letting out a hoot as he kicks sand up and around where he landed, running over to his Digimon backpack to pull out something.
(You think you remember the name of the animal on his bag that he taught you. AguâŚMon? Or something like that.)
You blink maybe 3 times before youâre unceremoniously fed something.
âNow eat!â A plastic spoon is shoved into your mouth before you can even say anything in responseâ Sweet, creamy and all too softâ Refreshingly cold and melt in your mouth. You can feel your heart turn fuzzy and melty on immediate contact, feel the sugary caramel swoon you into quiet bliss.
âFufu,â You can practically smell the smirk in his words. âYou only ever eat those cheap 3-pack puddings, right?â His smile⌠Looks too tight. Too forced, even. Youâve never seen him smile like this before.
âNobody else in this place would ever be able to buy stuff like this regularly.â And heâs harrumphing, stuffing a scoop of the pudding into his own mouth in triumph and pride, a testament to the riches he can access.
You think heâs right. These cream-filled pudding cups are definitely the first youâve seen of themâ
âSo you should only be my friend.â He stops chewing, stops shovelling pudding into both of yours and his mouths the moment he says that, eyes determinedly flicking from the ground up to meet yours. âYou donât need anyone else, okay?â
You think you can feel something bitter in his tone, something clinging on hyperventilating anxiousness and all-too practiced poise. It feels like heâs trying to say something heâs too embarrassed to admit, too scared to say.
If I keep buying you delicious things youâll stay, right?
You have to remember to blink to bring yourself back into reality, your cheeks still stuffed to its capacity with caramel pudding, have to pinch your skin to really realize what he just said to you. What? Just what kinda relationship depends only on giving things to keep people as friends?
You think thatâs dumb.
âBut, Swatoru⌠Iwâm not being your friwend jwust causeââ Youâre hurrying to swallow your food, covering your mouth just to be polite like Mama taught you as your eyes catch the way his hands were starting to stiffen. âJust because you give me stuff.â
He waits for you to finish for once, all narrowed eyes, furrowed eyebrows and inquiring gaze.
âIâm your friend âcause I like you.â And youâre smiling, tapping at your mouth to feel the sweet stickiness left behind, humming slightly as your head tilts downwards when you feel up your pocketsâ To realize itâs not there.
(You forgot to bring the handkerchief Mama always makes you tout around. You now realize⌠How right she really is about its usefulness. You wonât doubt her ever again.)
âSatoru? Do ya have a hanky I can have?â
What you havenât noticed was that your words have him freezing up, his face turning into an absolute mess of embarrassed cherry red, his body reeling away from you.
âY-youâre stupid.â Itâs all he can muster as his lips start to tremble, his words sounding like he was shivering. âAnd dumb!â
And all you remember is how hurriedly he had poured every last bit of remaining pudding into his mouth in retaliation.
(âAh⌠I wanted more, Satoru.â You have a frown on your face, eyes showing a blank, slightly disappointed show. He uses your hanky to wipe his mouth, rubbing the cloth against his lips as he listens to you. âIt was really goodâŚâ
He does feel kind of bad now.
ââŚsorry.â And itâs cute, the way his eyes have shifted to the side and the tips of his ears burning red, whispered apology under his breath that the wind whistled into your ears.
He wonât admit it.)
ââ
âYoung Master Gojo, you will have the opportunity to talk to (name)-sama again soon. Master expects you to be home for the gathering as soon as possible.â
âYou canât approach him! Remember that!â The door of the sleek, black limousine shuts; fully obscuring your view of your friend as the servant ladyâ Kimiko-san, as youâve learned her name to be, bows before you in a curt goodbye.
âThank you for keeping the young master company today as well, (name)-sama.â
They dropped you off home.
The vroom of the engine picks up as you keep waving at the vehicle, your goodbye not being unseen as a certain milk-haired individual rushed towards the window.
You see his face pressed up against the glass, squishing his full cheeks to the surface as he points at youâ And waves his pinky about.
A reminder, if you will. And you do the same in response.
âSweetie,â Mama pats your head from behind, a sign to usher you inside now that the sun was on the verge of disappearing, the sky blanketed in dark blues and the street lamps flickering to life.
âThe new neighbours moved in today.â Thereâs the clatter of some of the groceries she had just bought onto the table, a carton of milk, half a head of lettuce, carrots, potatoesâ Tonightâs dinner is curry.
âI saw them.â Youâre crawling up onto the wooden dining chair, unloading the reusable grocery bag as you hear her bring out the pot. âThey have a pretty kid.â
âDo they?â You can hear the smile, the chuckle in her tone as she acknowledges you, the shuffle and crinkle of plastic in her hands as she starts to prepare dinner. âThen I hope theyâre nice people.â
âMe too.â Even if youâre not allowed to approach them, you carefully descend from the chair that was just too tall for you to easily get off of, the considerably lighter items; a chocolate bar and a sponge huddled in your hands, your feet on the way to the fridge beforeâ
You notice a sweet tartness in the airâ Wafting to your nose as you take an inhale in. Oh, Mama smells nice today. Notâ Artificial nice, but normal, nice. She smells like honey and vanilla, light and easy on your nose.
âYou smell nice, Mama.â Youâve never been one to voice this out but⌠It seems that youâre just in a talkative mood today. In a mood to share your happiness. Just because.
The decisive chopping of potatoes and carrots stiffen, yet the boiling of water continues. ââŚis that so, sweetheart?â Her hands tensing just that little bit more as she continues on. The clacks against the wooden chopping board grow less erratic⌠Slow, uncertain.
Worried.
âMhm. Didya stop by the bakery just now?â She really, really smells good. And you can see her visibly relax at that, her shoulders slumping as she lets out⌠A quiet sigh of relief?
(Did you say something bad?)
âI figured you would like some bread for tomorrow.â Sheâs back to normal. âEating cereal all the time is bad for you, so I bought you some bread and cheese.â
âYay! Thank you, Mama!â
Dinner passed by too quickly, too much so that you find yourself laying upon the tatami mats of your bedroom in a blink of an eye, futon yet to be rolled out, the sound of Mama preparing the bath downstairs and your tummy full of warm curry as you sighâ Life is good.
Too good, in fact. Youâre starting to get suspiciousâ Starting with those new neighbours you just got today. Youâre curious, you really are.
The window opposite to yoursâ That would be the rooms of one of them right? You remember a gait of confidence from his Mama, his own Papa not lagging in that aspect either. So⌠Which one would have that room? Does he sleep by himself? That would be so brave of him.
(Even you struggle to sleep alone⌠By yourself⌠In a dark room⌠You feel a shiver down your spine just thinking about it.)
Your curtains are still drawn, the room that you shared with Mama lit only by your dim ceiling light. She says sheâs gonna replace the bulb soon, if you remember correctly.
So⌠Itâ Would be fine, right? Youâre not approaching or interacting with him. If they were to spot you they wonât have a clear view due to the light. So technically, this counts as safe, no? Innocuous, even. You just want to see who occupies that vey roomâ That was directly opposite of your own.
Curiosity kills cats, or something like that. But you arenât a cat, so it obviously doesnât apply to you. You wonât die.
So you take the chance, grabbing hold of the fabric⌠Should you really be doing this? Youâre unsure, uncertain. And it makes you really, really nervous. It feels like the scratchy material of your curtains were pricking into your skin as you ball up the fabric, taking a gulp⌠Just one peek. One is enough.
So you steel yourself, swallowing your fear and powering through your nerves. Itâs just a quick peek, one glanceâ Get it over and done with already!
Your eyes catch bright light, the colour temperature warm and inviting. Cozy. You see curtains that were drawn open, but not just any fabricâ The fancy type, with pretty lace and a neat ribbon. PrettyâŚ
But that wasnât the main focus.
What was, was the little boy that had already been staring at your curious little self, purple eyes widened in surprise and mouth already turning into a smile when he catches sight of you.
âAh! You really did peek out!â
Youâve been noticed.
You squeak, ducking down and away from the window immediately. Oh no. Oh no no no no. This was not the plan at all. Not how you thought this would go! Youâre panicking, using the curtains to hide your face away. Just pretend youâre not here, that you were just a figment of his imaginatiâ
âOhââ You can hear him slap a hand over his mouth. âSorry for yelling.â His words come out hushed, quietened now.
âDid I scare you?â
You have a promise to keep. Youâre not about to break it to have a conversation with a window stranger, no matter how pretty he is. At least now, you know your windows are close enough to be able to communicate. If that were any useful information at all.
âThat was rude of me, wasnât it? My Mama would scold me for that.â You think he just attempted to make a joke. A lighthearted attempt.
But⌠No, heâs not rude at all. Youâre the one who should be apologizing for hiding away from him like this, basically ignoring him on purpose. Youâre not a rude kid, you swear youâre not. Mama raised you to be better than thisâ But a promise is a promise.
âMy name is Geto Suguru, I just moved in today!â Something about that cheery tone in his voice, the mirth in his words has you feeling guilty, sad.
Yet you donât reply. You canât hear him anymoreâ Whyâs it so quiet? Is he waiting for a reply, a sign that you were still listening?
You canât exactly tell him you made a promise against himâ!
So you choose to continue the silence, letting it stretch over the growing awkwardness as you huddle in on yourself.
âIt would be nice to meet you.â
Would be. Is he trying to bait you out?
âSuguru! The bath is free!â A distant call from within his home, the feel of a night breeze starting to flutter your curtains as you grip onto them for dear life.
âOh, coming! Well⌠I hope we get to talk properly soon. Sorry for scaring you, by the way.â Taps of feet against the carpets of his floors as he patters awayâ He should be gone now, right?
But⌠You learned something about the neighbour today. That he was⌠Unexpectedly really nice. Too nice, even. You feel your conscience gnawing at you, feel guilt grip at your heart.
Mama would not be proud of you for this. Not that youâre gonna tell her, anyway.
(Geto⌠Suguru, huh?)
ââ
You donât meet them againâ Until the next afternoon, that is.
You usually check the area for anyone outside the door before you go up open it, you swear that you really do. To go pick up mail from the mailbox, receiving Mamaâs delivery items⌠The area has to be clear before you even dare to step a foot outside.
But not today. You werenât careful enough to cover your tracks at all.
âWell, hello there!â A lady with black hair tied into a bun and the prettiest purple eyes youâve ever seen. Sheâs bright, energetic⌠And really tall. Taller than Mama. âIâve only met your mother just this morning, you know? She told me about you!â
Sheâs really chatty.
âIâm Geto Akari, sweetheart. Itâs nice to meet you!â
Introduce yourself introduce yourself introduce yourselfâ
ââŚ(last name) (name)âŚâ You hope youâre loud enough. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, adjusting the mail that you were holding to be more in line with each otherâ Less messy. You donât want to leave the impression of being so, after all.
She spots the white of the papers that you were clutching to your chest, hugging the envelopes near as you blink up at her. âRunning some errands for your mother, sweetheart?â
âMm.â Itâs all you can do, really. Just nod and agree as you stare up at her with a stiff expression.
Smile, you should smile. You need to remember to smile.
âWell, arenât you quite responsible for someone so young! How old are you, darling?â Itâs in a coo, a sweetened tone to her voice when sheâs bending down slightly to lookâ Less imposing to you.
âIâm 4.â
âWhy, thatâs the same age as my son, haha!â She sounds excitedâ Sounds like she was happy to know about this information as she claps her hands together. âHow coincidental!â
Sheâs so nice.
âMorning, (last name)-san!â You see a face pop out from directly behind her, nearly jumping out of your skin as you feel your heart miss a beat, finding his eyes that were glittering with excitement.
Geto Suguru.
He mustâve heard you just nowâ
âSuguru, that was rude! You have to introduce yourself before calling for others!â Her hand goes down to ruffle his shoulder-length hair as he laughs.
It makes you almost want to replyâ
You slap a hand over your mouth before you even begin to say anything back. Eyes darting back and forth between your home, the front door, themâ You think you remember Mama mumbling about gifts last night. You should give them somethingâ Anything. Mama would want you to be polite.
An idea.
Your gaze flickers to her eyes as she tilts her head to the side in confusion, to her son that was still awaiting⌠So you just nod.
Before turning on your heel to run into the kitchen, climbing onto the stool to grab the last few cookies Mama had made yesterdayâ Which you were saving for both yourself and Satoru, by the way.
Itâs for the best, you decide. TV people did always say that sacrifices are to be made for the grater good. Whatever a grater is, anyway.
(And while you may not have the best penmanship of⌠Anything yetâ Considering youâre only 4. But youâre gonna try, at the very least.
WeL-chum n i hoPe we get aLonG! (Welcome and I hope we get along!) )
âOh. Welcome back, sweetie!â She smiles at you once more. âI thought you got scared of us and ran away, haha.â
You donât replyâ Only holding up the note and individually wrapped cookies up towards her, doing your best not to look at the excited little boy next to her.
âWoah! Cookies!â
âWell⌠Arenât you just so precious!â Sheâs practically swooning at this point, patting your head gently as you blink. âLooking at you already made me contemplate wanting a daughter, now youâre really pushing me to try for one!â
Please donât. It would be harder to avoid 2 kids instead of 1.
âThank you so muchâ Ah, donât leave yet!â Sheâs already making you stop as she herself starts to rush back in her home, ushering her son along with her as you hear the commotion from inside.
âMom, letâs give her this one!â
âI think those arenât fresh, Suguruâ Oh, how about these?â
âWouldnât it just be better to justââ
You tune them out, standing at the front of your house and swaying back and forth on the balls of your feet as you twiddle your fingers and look up towards the afternoon sun.
It wouldâve been a good day to air out the futons, Mama would say.
âAhâ! Sorry for the wait, darling! Here you go!â Itâs a plastic bagâ A size that would be comfortable for your toddler self to drag in without much trouble⌠If it didnât look like the items inside were gonna burst out of it.
âItâs for the both of you! I hope youâll enjoy it!â
You only nod in thanks, smiling up at her slightly as you see her practically bite back a squeal, rubbing your head with held-back enthusiasm as her son⌠Smiles back at you.
And when you finally close the door behind you and take your shoes off at the genkanâ
You think you feel some variation of guilt course through you as you look down at the strawberries you just receivedâ Big, fresh⌠And really tasty looking.
They are too kind to someone like you. You drag it in, placing the plastic packaging carefully upon the lowest tier of the fridge that you can reachâ Before bolting towards the phone.
Climbing up the stool to reach the phone, you grab hold of it as you start to dial the numbers you had memorizedâ Only just recently.
You hear the telltale ringing, awaiting his voice. Itâs urgent, it really is. Your heart is starting o beat too fast, tummy feeling like it was churning the bread and milk from this morning too fast⌠Youâve never even called anyone that wasnât your Mama before.
âYou have reached the Gojo estate. How may I assist with your enquiries?â You practically freeze where you stood, a socked foot nearly making you slip against the plastic stool as your breath hitches. You donât recognise this voice. You donât know who the man answering this phone was. Heâs too old, much too fancy sounding compared to your Satoru.
He said Gojo estate⌠So you didnât call the wrong number, right?
You think youâre starting to breathe heavily into the phone to calm your nervesâ Making them the only sound before you even make a move to greet the person on the other end.
ââŚsorry, but the colour of myââ
âCan I⌠Talk to Satoru please?â You practically blurt it out with unpracticed anxiety, twirling the phone cord tight between your fingers as you try to calm yourself.
âAh.â It seems that they understood. Thank goodness. âPlease excuse my rudeness, but is that you, (name)-sama?â
âYesâŚâ No matter how pretentious that title sounds to you.
âPlease wait just a moment.â
â(name)! Do ya wanna play today?! I bought a new puddiââ
âSatoru,â You practically sound breathless with relief when you hear his voice, but you have to tell him, you just have to. âI met the new kid just now.â
And that silences him in an instant.
âI didnât say anything to him.â As rude as you may be. âHis Mama saw me outside and talked to me first, though.â
Silence that makes your heart skip a beat.
âPlease donât be mad at me.â
(âHaha!â You hear him laugh, itâs bellowing, taunting and all too amused. âWhy would I be mad? Ya ignored the kid right?!â
âGood job!â
And you feel satisfied.)
ââ
â(last name)-san.â His smile is ever courteous, ever polite and soft. It makes your heart melt, if you were to be honest. âWanna play together?â
âI brought my crayons and some paper, since I thought you would like it.â Was it because of your note? Regardless, this wasâ A really bad time. A really, really bad time.
â(nameeeeee)! Whyâd ya ignore me for the doorâ!â Oh no.
You didnât predict that today would be the very day that they metâ Swear you didnât plan or foresee this. It was only this morning that you had heard your zodiac sign might be unlucky today, how troubles and tribulations may come swimming your way to stir the path of your future, only just this morning that you decided that that kind of thing was just another follyâŚ!
You didnât know it was going to be right?!
âYour hairâs ugly.â
âI donât like your eyes.â
âYea?! Ya wanna go, Weird Bangs?!â
âNot with the likes of you, Bug Eyes.â
âHaah?!â
With you cramped in between them, no less. You call it sheer, dumb luck that you were able to invite your neighbour inside without too much of a fuss. Get them to sit around you in your living room as you all⌠Draw.
Getoâs crayons are scattered about, the drawing block papers starting to fill with a myriad of colourful shapes as you hum and try to keep the peace between the two of them.
âMama says that fighting is bad.â You think so too, honestly. Whatâs the point to them? Itâs easier to keep the peace and be friends with each other.
âSorry, (last name)-san.â
âHmph!â
At least theyâre settled down now.
âWhat are you drawing?â Itâs Geto that was sitting cross-legged next to you as youâre lying on your front, legs kicked up and elbows propped against the ground to support your head as he watches your hands move.
And that has Satoru peeking over as well, much to his dismay.
âDonât draw himââ And heâs already huffing, puffing his cheeks and pouting when he sees you colour in black and dot in purple. He notices the telltale signs of the kimono he wore when he first met you, able to make out the figures youâre drawing in record time. Good. Itâs good that youâre drawing him and you together, but he doesnât want that thing with you both.
And that has him picking up a red crayon, catching your attention when you see him readying himself to scribble all over your hard work.
âW-wait, Satoruââ You try to push him back, hold him away from the colourful drawing of yours. You donât want it ruined, donât want him to do something to it yet. I-itâs important to you, something you spent your time on, he canâtâ
âShe said she didnât want you drawing on the paper.â Suguruâs grip on his wrist is tight, squeezing with a strength that was unprecedented for someone his size.
And you think you can feel something change in the air, the tension building, itâs bitter, unpleasantâ Has you feeling like you want to curl into a ball and cry. A churn in your gut that youâre all too familiar with when you were living together with your Papa.
A warning. One that even children like them, like you; can interpret loud and clear even without having known the existence of pheromones and warning growls.
They say natures are inherent, after all.
âSheâs my friend. I donât get why youâre interfering, dummy.â He snarls back with just as much underlying aggression, stirring something in you to want to lie lowâ Disappear, even.
And you think that maybe you should listen to those zodiac sign forecasts a lot more.
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thinking about the rumors that are spread around the imperial palace when a fellow maid catches a glimpse of emperor!gojo kneeling at your feet
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oomf wanted a totoro x jjk crossover đĽšđą
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2 + 1 â gojo satoru
synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumiâs pov, not proofread eep
notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!
fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.
nobara clicks her tongue. âthis is borderline creepy.â her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.
âthereâs more too,â megumiâs voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.
it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom.Â
with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.
there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasnât just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoruâs former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.
any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.
a true testament to gojo satoruâs pining and devotion to you.
âsensei, we can explainââ yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy.Â
unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcererâs expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.
it seems like the heavens have answered megumiâs prayers because gojo satoru doesnât seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.
âi canât believe you guys found this old thing.â satoru dismisses his studentsâ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. âmegumi, be grateful that iâm in a good mood today.â he doesnât elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.
megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.Â
âi never took you to be the pathetic type,â kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.
âyou seriously never noticed?â megumi mutters under his breath.
gojo places a strong hand on megumiâs back, a languid smile on his face, âit was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.â he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.
âseriously?â itadori asks in disbelief.
âseriously.â gojo confirms wholeheartedly.
megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.
2009
âsorry iâm late!â gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesnât bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.
âtheyâre in the kitchen,â he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.
âthey?â gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.
âtsumiki and [name]?â the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.
at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap.Â
â[name]?! here? now?â gojoâs eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.
the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.
âoi brat, check my breath,â gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.
ââtoru? what are you doing?â your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.
now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older maleâs face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.
âdonât worry about it darling!â gojo slowly turns around to face you. âaghâ?!â
megumi has to peek around satoruâs big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.
heâs met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.
âwelcome home, satoru.â you give him your signature closed eye smile. âi mean, you probably donât consider it your home butââ
youâre cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. heâs muttering something under his breath that you donât hear.
to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."
unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.
a lost cause indeed.
2009
in that very year, megumi learns that gojoâs efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasnât for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.
me
[name]
[nameeeee]
iâm dying.
and itâs your fault t^t
[name] â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ
excuse me?
me
iâll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight⌠only to find out from megumi that youâre on a date?!!?
i feel like my chest is caving in.Â
iâm going to throw up.
[name] â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ
oh this is what youâre interrupting my date for?
me
iâm going to be sick.
please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?
megumi quickly looks away from gojoâs phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. heâs pretty sure half of them were death threats. honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?
âchange of plans,â gojo claps his hands together. âmovie nightâs off.â
âwhat?â megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.
âour beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldnât want that to happen, right?â gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.
megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.
but he canât let this unnamed suitor steal you away.
a wolfish grin makes its way to gojoâs mouth when he realizes that heâs won.
âwhat's the plan?â
2016
it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru.Â
on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the roomâs significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.
throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.
âhowâs that whore of yours, gojo?â a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room.Â
there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.
another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, âshe has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.â
megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.
heâs startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyesâa revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.
âiâd hold my tongue if i were you.â gojo satoruâs voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.
"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.
megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.
before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesnât have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojoâs strong curse residue that suffocates the room.
âstand up megumi. weâre leaving.â his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.
on their way out of the compound, the two donât utter a word at what had just transpired.Â
megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.
the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.
megumi supposes he doesnât feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didnât know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesnât help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.
oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.
âi know what youâre going to say,â gojo hums happily. âgojo sensei, youâre so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~ââ he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi.Â
the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.
gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.
ânot that it matters.â megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. âi was always going to marry [name] and iâll be damned to let anyone stop me.âÂ
2018 â present day
after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.
you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence. his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.
âsatoâ what is going on?!âÂ
âis it a crime to show my wife some love?â he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.
you donât bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoruâs eyes on you.
âi was telling my first years about you today,â he says softly.
you smile, âis that so?â
he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.
âyouâre so good to them,â you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, youâre extremely proud of how far heâs come.
âmhm,â satoru inhales. âiâd be good to our little ones too.â one of his hands sneak to your stomach.
you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.
satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.
from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their senseiâs cue to enter.
âdo you think heâs forgotten about us?â yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.
extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)
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2 + 1 â gojo satoru
synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumiâs pov, not proofread eep
notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!
fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.
nobara clicks her tongue. âthis is borderline creepy.â her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.
âthereâs more too,â megumiâs voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.
it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom.Â
with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.
there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasnât just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoruâs former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.
any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.
a true testament to gojo satoruâs pining and devotion to you.
âsensei, we can explainââ yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy.Â
unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcererâs expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.
it seems like the heavens have answered megumiâs prayers because gojo satoru doesnât seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.
âi canât believe you guys found this old thing.â satoru dismisses his studentsâ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. âmegumi, be grateful that iâm in a good mood today.â he doesnât elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.
megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.Â
âi never took you to be the pathetic type,â kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.
âyou seriously never noticed?â megumi mutters under his breath.
gojo places a strong hand on megumiâs back, a languid smile on his face, âit was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.â he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.
âseriously?â itadori asks in disbelief.
âseriously.â gojo confirms wholeheartedly.
megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.
2009
âsorry iâm late!â gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesnât bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.
âtheyâre in the kitchen,â he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.
âthey?â gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.
âtsumiki and [name]?â the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.
at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap.Â
â[name]?! here? now?â gojoâs eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.
the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.
âoi brat, check my breath,â gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.
ââtoru? what are you doing?â your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.
now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older maleâs face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.
âdonât worry about it darling!â gojo slowly turns around to face you. âaghâ?!â
megumi has to peek around satoruâs big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.
heâs met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.
âwelcome home, satoru.â you give him your signature closed eye smile. âi mean, you probably donât consider it your home butââ
youâre cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. heâs muttering something under his breath that you donât hear.
to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."
unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.
a lost cause indeed.
2009
in that very year, megumi learns that gojoâs efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasnât for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.
me
[name]
[nameeeee]
iâm dying.
and itâs your fault t^t
[name] â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ
excuse me?
me
iâll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight⌠only to find out from megumi that youâre on a date?!!?
i feel like my chest is caving in.Â
iâm going to throw up.
[name] â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ
oh this is what youâre interrupting my date for?
me
iâm going to be sick.
please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?
megumi quickly looks away from gojoâs phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. heâs pretty sure half of them were death threats. honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?
âchange of plans,â gojo claps his hands together. âmovie nightâs off.â
âwhat?â megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.
âour beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldnât want that to happen, right?â gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.
megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.
but he canât let this unnamed suitor steal you away.
a wolfish grin makes its way to gojoâs mouth when he realizes that heâs won.
âwhat's the plan?â
2016
it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru.Â
on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the roomâs significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.
throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.
âhowâs that whore of yours, gojo?â a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room.Â
there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.
another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, âshe has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.â
megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.
heâs startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyesâa revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.
âiâd hold my tongue if i were you.â gojo satoruâs voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.
"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.
megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.
before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesnât have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojoâs strong curse residue that suffocates the room.
âstand up megumi. weâre leaving.â his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.
on their way out of the compound, the two donât utter a word at what had just transpired.Â
megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.
the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.
megumi supposes he doesnât feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didnât know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesnât help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.
oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.
âi know what youâre going to say,â gojo hums happily. âgojo sensei, youâre so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~ââ he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi.Â
the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.
gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.
ânot that it matters.â megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. âi was always going to marry [name] and iâll be damned to let anyone stop me.âÂ
2018 â present day
after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.
you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence. his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.
âsatoâ what is going on?!âÂ
âis it a crime to show my wife some love?â he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.
you donât bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoruâs eyes on you.
âi was telling my first years about you today,â he says softly.
you smile, âis that so?â
he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.
âyouâre so good to them,â you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, youâre extremely proud of how far heâs come.
âmhm,â satoru inhales. âiâd be good to our little ones too.â one of his hands sneak to your stomach.
you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.
satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.
from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their senseiâs cue to enter.
âdo you think heâs forgotten about us?â yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.
extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)
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i see your lovesick loser gojo and i canât help thinking of likeâŚâŚreader who was (and still is) one of those weird little girls. not quirky. weird. like collected lizard tails kinda weird. like lilo from lilo and stitch kinda weird. you know what i mean? itâs just kinda funny to think about and may or may not be a self-indulgent fantasy but letâs not talk about that
jokes on you gojo satoru is into girls that lowkey scare him.
itâs probably a weird turn on for him and if anyone brings up your strange interests, heâll definitely start daydreaming about how cute you are.
âitâs a bit weird, no?â
gojo sighing happily, a dazed look in his eyes, âarenât they the cutest?â
ââŚâ
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Hellooo Katiee are you ok?? Here I am bothering you again, haha! But I wanted to ask how you go about creating the titles of your fanfics! Because I have a lot of problems with this when I write somethingđĽ˛
mariaaaa :3 youâre never a bother! to be completely honest with you, i just title it whatever comes to mind (thereâs not much of a thought process). sometimes when it doesnât come to me, i make it a timestamp or use a song lyric that i think matches the vibe of the fic!
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2 + 1 â gojo satoru
synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumiâs pov, not proofread eep
notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!
fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.
nobara clicks her tongue. âthis is borderline creepy.â her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.
âthereâs more too,â megumiâs voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.
it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom.Â
with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.
there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasnât just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoruâs former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.
any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.
a true testament to gojo satoruâs pining and devotion to you.
âsensei, we can explainââ yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy.Â
unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcererâs expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.
it seems like the heavens have answered megumiâs prayers because gojo satoru doesnât seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.
âi canât believe you guys found this old thing.â satoru dismisses his studentsâ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. âmegumi, be grateful that iâm in a good mood today.â he doesnât elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.
megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.Â
âi never took you to be the pathetic type,â kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.
âyou seriously never noticed?â megumi mutters under his breath.
gojo places a strong hand on megumiâs back, a languid smile on his face, âit was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.â he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.
âseriously?â itadori asks in disbelief.
âseriously.â gojo confirms wholeheartedly.
megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.
2009
âsorry iâm late!â gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesnât bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.
âtheyâre in the kitchen,â he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.
âthey?â gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.
âtsumiki and [name]?â the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.
at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap.Â
â[name]?! here? now?â gojoâs eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.
the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.
âoi brat, check my breath,â gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.
ââtoru? what are you doing?â your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.
now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older maleâs face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.
âdonât worry about it darling!â gojo slowly turns around to face you. âaghâ?!â
megumi has to peek around satoruâs big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.
heâs met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.
âwelcome home, satoru.â you give him your signature closed eye smile. âi mean, you probably donât consider it your home butââ
youâre cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. heâs muttering something under his breath that you donât hear.
to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."
unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.
a lost cause indeed.
2009
in that very year, megumi learns that gojoâs efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasnât for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.
me
[name]
[nameeeee]
iâm dying.
and itâs your fault t^t
[name] â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ
excuse me?
me
iâll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight⌠only to find out from megumi that youâre on a date?!!?
i feel like my chest is caving in.Â
iâm going to throw up.
[name] â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ
oh this is what youâre interrupting my date for?
me
iâm going to be sick.
please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?
megumi quickly looks away from gojoâs phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. heâs pretty sure half of them were death threats. honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?
âchange of plans,â gojo claps his hands together. âmovie nightâs off.â
âwhat?â megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.
âour beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldnât want that to happen, right?â gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.
megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.
but he canât let this unnamed suitor steal you away.
a wolfish grin makes its way to gojoâs mouth when he realizes that heâs won.
âwhat's the plan?â
2016
it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru.Â
on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the roomâs significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.
throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.
âhowâs that whore of yours, gojo?â a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room.Â
there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.
another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, âshe has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.â
megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.
heâs startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyesâa revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.
âiâd hold my tongue if i were you.â gojo satoruâs voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.
"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.
megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.
before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesnât have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojoâs strong curse residue that suffocates the room.
âstand up megumi. weâre leaving.â his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.
on their way out of the compound, the two donât utter a word at what had just transpired.Â
megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.
the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.
megumi supposes he doesnât feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didnât know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesnât help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.
oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.
âi know what youâre going to say,â gojo hums happily. âgojo sensei, youâre so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~ââ he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi.Â
the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.
gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.
ânot that it matters.â megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. âi was always going to marry [name] and iâll be damned to let anyone stop me.âÂ
2018 â present day
after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.
you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence. his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.
âsatoâ what is going on?!âÂ
âis it a crime to show my wife some love?â he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.
you donât bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoruâs eyes on you.
âi was telling my first years about you today,â he says softly.
you smile, âis that so?â
he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.
âyouâre so good to them,â you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, youâre extremely proud of how far heâs come.
âmhm,â satoru inhales. âiâd be good to our little ones too.â one of his hands sneak to your stomach.
you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.
satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.
from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their senseiâs cue to enter.
âdo you think heâs forgotten about us?â yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.
extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)
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