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tabootoji · 2 days

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"IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU...NO ONE CAN"

✰ - SYNOPSIS: you and satoru have always been close...well, maybe a little too close. when your boyfriend has had enough of satoru's overbearing tendencies, the strongest is determined to captivate you - in more ways than one. ✰ - WC: 3.8k ✰ - TAGS: dead dove do not eat, yandere, obsession, possession, manipulation, kidnapping, forced cuckold, degradation, humiliation, name calling, praise, teasing, rape, coercion, dirty talk, kissing, groping, v. fingering, v. sex, f. squirting, m. orgasm, mind break, breeding kink, cream pie, dacryphilia, reader has she/her pronouns (mentions of violence) no use of (y/n), all lowercase ✰ - A/N: this is my first dark piece, i advice all reader's to carefully take note of the tags! (also feral gojo is my fav gojo hehe)

satoru gojo has always been used to having things come easy to him with minimal effort. after all, being the strongest entailed having any and everything at his convenient disposal.

well, almost everything.

there was in fact one thing that satoru desired, craved, more than anything else in the entire world. the apple of his eye, the object of all of his vigorous affections: you. his best friend, his confidante, the only person he's ever shared such a fierce emotional connection with. if it were up to him, satoru would have already lured you into his doting arms a long time ago. it constantly agonized him that the only thing that was stopping him from making you his was your pathetic boyfriend you've been dating since he met you.

poor bastard had no idea how lucky he was.

although you were a weak non sorcerer yourself, satoru always admired your heart that was crafted from gold. your warm heartedness and generosity held no bounds, glowing through your aura wherever you went. and what satoru loved most about you was how innocent and naive you could be - something he made a point to not only tease you for, but constantly use to his own advantage.

so you never really questioned him whenever he would scoff and roll his eyes at the mere mention of your boyfriends name. you wouldn't catch his snide remarks about him that he'd disguise with his cunning humor. and if looks could kill, you were oblivious to satoru's attempts of slicing your lover's jugular with the daggers he'd glare at him with whenever he saw the two of you together.

moreover, you also seemed to either be unaware or ignore the rising tension that surrounded you and satoru whenever you both were alone. his promises to look out for you no matter what, how he'd hold your gaze longer than what was socially acceptable during conversation, how he had absolutely no limit when it came to spoiling you with various expensive gifts, and how he'd drop everything at a moment's notice if it meant just being with you.

you never thought anything of the special treatment you'd receive from satoru, figuring it was just his way of expressing what your friendship meant to him. and while his childish personality and over protective bearings could be a bit much to handle at times, you were convinced his motives were always genuine: satoru could never do anything to hurt you, right?

however, your boyfriend could see right through satoru's facade. it didn't take a genius to see that satoru had a very unhealthy obsession with you. he knew satoru was clearly taking advantage of your kindness, and in his own twisted mind interpreted your goodwill as a sign of you recuperating his attraction.

it came to a point that your significant other not only feared for the stability of your relationship if satoru's inappropriate behavior continued, but also the safety of both of you if satoru one day decided to act on his emotions.

so one day, he decides to confide in you about his impending worries. after explaining his concerns to you, you felt terrible about the fact that he had been feeling this way for so long, and you had no clue that you may have contributed to his insecurities. thankfully, your boyfriend wasn't an unreasonable person, all he requested was for you to maintain certain boundaries with satoru, and he would have no problem with the two of you remaining friends.

if only you two could have predicted how you doing just that, would bring satoru to the brink of insanity.

satoru recognized your withdrawal from him immediately, how could he not? the long hours you two usually spent together that lagged on and on with his pleas of "don't go! the fun's just started!" became shorter and shorter due to your sudden curtness. you stopped answering his calls and text messages as often. and when he confronted you about your withdrawal, you only stuttered out minuscule excuses about being very busy recently. since when have you ever been too busy for him?

you were a terrible liar, satoru knew the only reason you would have to avoid him was if someone was telling you to do so. sudden flashes in his mind of the face of your stupid, selfish lover caused him to shake in anger as everything suddenly dawned on him. how dare the little weasel try to keep you and him apart? satoru knew he had to act, and fast, unwilling to lose you to the punk. so he finally decides to take matters into his own hands and give into his dark urges.

which is exactly how he found himself currently in you and your partners shared bedroom, knuckles deep inside your dripping pussy while your beloved watched in horror, defenselessly tied to a chair in the corner of the room.

"hah...so fuckin' tight, boyfriend hasn't been stretchin' ya out properly huh? ya could'a let me know sooner sweets, y'know i'd do anything for ya ❤" satoru purrs to you, sending an involuntary shudder through your body as he continues to finger blast your leaking cunt. you whimper at his filthy words, gripping the bed sheets till your knuckles strain as he continued his assault.

you think back to how you found yourself in this predicament in the first place. you had just arrived home to your apartment, and you were excited to spend the rest of the evening with your boyfriend. no one seemed to be home at first to your surprise, so you began calling his name out while looking for any trace of him.

to your dismay, you found him bound to a seat in your now dimly candle lit bedroom that smelled of woodsmoke bourbon, arms and legs tied tightly with rope with none other than your best friend sitting at the edge of your bed with a casual smile, welcoming you home.

satoru had motioned for you to sit next to him, and after exchanging glances with your terrified partner, you decided to oblige with his commands. you knew of satoru's unparalleled strength, and although you didn't completely understand the extent of it, you were far too aware that he could crush you and your sweetheart like a bug if he wanted to. the best option was to go along with whatever satoru was planning to avoid harm coming to one or both of you.

satoru removed his blindfold, giving you the chance to look into his breathtaking sky blue iris, and held your hands firmly, rubbing circles to the back of them softly with his thumbs. you furrowed your eyebrows at his sudden acts of affection before shocking you with a confession of his unswaying love for you. his words jumbled together in your head as you struggled to understand where all of this was coming from. satoru had never talked to you in this manner before, where was this coming from? why was he doing this?

after he had finished his declaration, silence stilled the room as satoru stared intently at you, anticipating your answer. for a while you carefully considered how you should reply, knowing the only real option was to accept his confession despite how you really felt, certain that any other response would result in you and your boyfriend being sliced to pieces, or worse.

so you wordlessly nodded your head, trying your best to keep all your attention on satoru and ignore your partner's head falling in sorrow in your peripheral vision. satoru's eyes lit up like a child on christmas morning, and he flashed his sharp canines at you before moving his big hands to your face, gently caressing you before pulling you into a passionate kiss.

the kiss quickly intensified, and so did satoru's grazes as he began groping at your body. every muscle in you wanted to push him away and run to the arms of your lover to free him so you could both escape this nightmare. still, you allowed satoru to continue his fondling, fearing for your lives if you did so. it seemed the more satoru got a taste of you, the more erratic he became, and before you could understand what was going on you were lying on your side laterally, facing the head of the bed as he pulled your bottoms and underwear off of you with lightning speed.

in a twisted way you were glad that satoru had put you in this position - at least your boyfriend was out of your view so you wouldn't have to see his face that was surely skewed with disgust while satoru molested you. you were however forced to look at his crazed expressions as he dug into the deepest, most private parts of you. anytime you tried to close your eyes, satoru gripped tautly at one of your asscheeks and bullied his long fingers deeper inside of you, forcing your attention onto him. "hey, where'dya go baby girl? keep those pretty eyes on me, want'cha seein' everythin' i'm doin' to ya~."

as for satoru, he was in full bliss from finally successfully charming you, and was making a mental note to remember everything he could about this moment. the tantalizing sight of your sopping mound swallowing up his lengthy digits, your delectable scent mixing with the aroma of the candles he filled the room with to set the mood of his confession, the feeling of your wet walls that seemed to refuse to loosen no matter how many of his fingers he added into them, the deafening squelching sounds of your cunt each time he pumped his hands back and forth in you.

you were perfect, just perfect, and he thanked the heavens that he finally had you in his possession.

you bite your bottom lip hard, ashamed to let out the sound of your voice, embarrassed to show any indication to satoru or your partner that every nerve in your body awakened at the stimulation. satoru began to curl his fingers to rub against your g-spot, causing your entire body to jerk whenever he brushed the spongy knot in your canals. your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you feel mouth wateringly delicious pressure build in your pelvis as he continues his mercilessly fast pace.

satoru could tell you were close by the way your pussy fluttered around his girthy digits, and he laughs at how adorable you are, still trying to be considerate as always by not letting your boyfriend see just how good you were feeling right now. but that just wouldn't do to feed his ego, so to encourage you, his other hand finds purchase on your slender neck and presses the sides of it while he bends down to whisper in your ear. "s' ok baby doll, ya don't gotta hold back anymore, not with me. c'mon let go."

a stream of tears pour out of your enlarged eyeballs now, and satoru wastes no time licking them up with his flat tongue and peppering your face with an array of kisses. satoru turns to your captive lover - who's now sobbing as well - with a manic smile, spewing out taunts to him while your impending release begins to crash over you, your body betraying your mind.

"bet'cha never seen her like this eh? your useless ass even know how to pleasure her? well dont worry, 'm feelin' nice, so i'll give ya a front seat show. oooo, fuck, she's almost there, gonna watch your girlfriend make a mess all over my fingers? c'mon baby, cum, cumcumcum-"

a piercing cry leaves your dry throat in the middle of satoru's frenzied chants as your climax finally consumes you, your entire body becoming overwhelmed with immense feelings of ecstasy while your mind temporarily goes blank. when you finally come to after a couple of seconds, you notice your inner thighs and the bedsheets underneath you are drenched with your liquid. you use the small amount of energy you have left to turn and look back at satoru bashfully, realizing you've squirted for the first time ever. the hungry cast in his dilated orbs makes you whimper as you watch him lap at his large palm that's now covered in your sheeny essence, all while never breaking eye contact with you.

"beautiful... so fucking beautiful." he mutters out lustfully. satoru's eyes that were as deep as the oceans depth raked over your quivering form, and the only thing he could think about was gobbling you up to his heart's content as he ran his hand down your slicked legs, stroking your puffy outer lips up and down with his fingernails and enjoying the way you jolted at every one of his touches.

he momentarily snaps out of his state of desire at the annoying blubbers coming from behind him that ruin the atmosphere. he rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh, grabbing his blindfold that he haphazardly threw to the side before getting up from the bed and moving towards the source of the noise.

your lover glances up, and his eyeballs threaten to pop out of his head like saucers when he sees satoru approach him. once he's standing above him with his towering form, satoru takes his blindfold and wraps it around his mouth, tying the ends of it strongly behind his head. he tilts his head to the side and lets a small smile form on his face, then leans down till he's at eye level before hissing out more of his venom. "really thought you could keep her away from me huh? now i gotta show you that she's mine. all mine. always has been, always will be. but don't worry, ill show her all the pleasures this life has to offer."

satoru takes a moment to savor the look of terror in your boyfriend's eyes at his words, giving him a ridiculing pat on the side of his skull before turning around, skipping back to the bed. the sight of you still lying right where he left you warms his heart. the fact that he didn't even have to tell you not to move from your spot only further proves how docile you were for him. satoru pounces on the soft mattress with his knees at his previous position behind you, and swiftly pulls down his slacks to release his achingly stiff hard on.

you rotate to peek at the shifting weight behind you, only to freeze at the sight of satoru's extensive cock angrily pulsing in the air. the tip of his bulbous head flushed a crimson red and glistened from the sticky precum it was coated in. you gulped audibly, beginning to panic. satoru wasn't planning on putting that inside of you, right? there was no way it was going to fit, he was huge! you had hoped that he would be tamed after toying with you, but he really had every intention of going all the way.

he must have been able to read your thoughts because he lets out a hearty laugh while massaging your bare ass and rubbing his hard member against your wet vulva, painting it with your leftover substance before reassuring you. "don't worry baby, you can take me. you're my good girl, aren't you?"

you scrunch your gaze pleadingly, uttering your first words to him since accepting his confession. "s-satoru...please..." you beg, peering up at the man you once considered one of your closet friends. he's unrecognizable to you now, yes he may have the same striking features, the same tall lean structure, but you still can't fathom that your satoru could ever do this to you.

satoru looks you right back in the eyes as he angles himself at your awaiting entrance, grabbing your hips firmly. "i love you." he simply says, before using all his strength to suddenly push his hefty cock entirely into you. you howl out at the sudden intrusion, having to remind yourself to breathe, because you don't think you've ever felt this full. the sensation of satoru's long rod twitching inside your gummy walls quickly immobilizes you.

with lidded eyes you stare at the obscene sight of satoru and you connected, his coarse white pubic hair pressing against your buttocks. satoru grits his teeth, face twisted in anguish, and squeezes the fat of your rear so tightly you were sure it would leave bruises for days. "ngh...holy shit, you feel...mph...so fucking good...hah...always knew you were made for me." he spurts out through his clenched jaw.

having nothing else to hold on to, you grab onto satoru's toned arm, having no choice but to try to accommodate to his ridiculous size. "t-toru, too much toru! i-i can't!" you cry out. satoru's heaving breath indicated his descent into madness, feeling the way your slimy walls involuntarily clamped around him, almost suffocating his groin. "i know angel, i know. lover boy's cock's probably never reached this deep huh? heh, don't worry, m' gonna take good care of you, my pretty girl."

i'll take care of you, a phrase that satoru had always expressed to you during the course of your friendship had a whole new meaning now. the ominous promise echoes in your head as he finally begins to move, pulling out of your tremoring heat till only his bulging cockhead teased your entry, before ramming his veiny cock in you again, beginning a tempo so punishingly fast it knocked the wind out of you with every thrust.

satoru holds your bent knees and legs in place as he continues to plummet into your womanhood. his powerful grasp on your plush thighs only helped to create an even tighter squeeze to his groin while he penetrates you. his loud, high pitched whines accompanied by the sound of his heavily cum weighted ball sacks slapping against your bottom reverberate through the room. "ah, cant ever let you leave me after this...fuck...cant go on without you, love. i'll never let you go. ever" satoru mewls out, setting his words in stone by punctuating each syllable with a forceful slam of his loins.

you begin biting at your soft covers, trying helplessly to get used to satoru's vigorous thumps. all your senses become clouded to the point that the only thing you can see, hear, feel, is satoru - so much so, that you begin to lose yourself to the vulnerability of the situation. you recognize how messed up this entire affair is, but you also can't deny the wicked state of pleasure your body has been forcibly flung into.

eventually, you finally allow your own squeals and moans to mix into the lewd noises of you and satoru's union, and he's ecstatic at your current state, giving him the chance to further berate your partner. "whatta minx, just listen to her. cant blame her, probably the first time she's ever been fucked properly." he glowers with a psychotic grin stretching from ear to ear.

satoru flexes his hips upward, bucking his meaty cock against the front of your stomach, stimulating your sweet spot once again. it only further contributes to the numbing of your brain, and as if that wasn't enough, he manages to reach even deeper by pushing your butt back and forth to match his relentless movements. the headboard of your bed creaks obnoxiously loud as it slams against the wall behind it, no doubt leaving permanent marks in its wake.

satoru once again takes his hand and uses it to grab your nape, forcing you to look at him. redness freckles his face as he continues to grunt unashamed, the undeniable throb of his member each time he bottoms out of your gushing pussy signals that he's close. amid all of the hysteria you suddenly realize satoru never put a condom on, and before you get the chance to protest, he once again leaves you breathless by pistoling his bulky cock right into your womb, causing you to wail out instead, another wave of fat tears flow through the corners of your eyes. your meek and powerless display only stirs satoru on as he succumbs to his impending orgasm. through his craze, he scowls menacingly at your gagged boyfriend before spewing out more of his crude words.

"gonna watch me breed the love of your life? m' gonna fill her up with so much of my cum...ugh! everyone will know who she belongs to. take my seed sweetheart, ah...! fucking take it...!"

with a final 'thwap', satoru buries his sensitive tip in your guts, spurting out thick ropes of his hot cum directly into your uterus. the bomb of his explosive climax triggers your own, causing your warm cunt to squirt again, drenching his lap with your juices while you clench around his massive dick, both of you letting out your final groans. there's so much of his load, sentiments of it messily pour out of your abused hole onto the sheets beneath you.

satoru shallowly fucks the remainder of his cum into your cervix, enjoying the vice grip you still had on him, before languidly pulling out of you. he admires the white ring of cream covering the base of his shaft with a shudder, before leaning down to your fatigued form, decorating your temple with butterfly kisses while whispering sweet affirmations into your ear at what a good job you did.

your mind and body were completely worn out from you and satoru's exertions. to your surprise, you feel much more content after the fact than what you were expecting. you thought you'd feel disgusted with yourself once everything was said and done, but as twisted as it may sound, you begin to convince yourself that this encounter was bound to happen the moment you and satoru crossed paths.

an egotistical man who has never been denied anything in his entire life, what made you believe you'd never be a victim of his desperation to conquer anything he saw fit? perhaps it would be easier for you in the long run - which it seemed satoru was fully committed for - to simply bend to his will and accept your inescapable fate as another one of his pawn's. after all, he's always told you he'd take care of you, right?

the heavy weight of your eyelids beacons your consciousness into somber darkness, much like your current condition. as you fall into a deep slumber, your last thought is how sorry you are to your poor boyfriend for webbing him into the disaster that was you and satoru's relationship. you hear satoru shuffle from the bed, and you use your last bit of energy to peer through your blurry vision, watching helplessly as he stalks frighteningly towards your cowering lover who was already begging for mercy.

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mononijikayu · 2 days

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“slipping through my fingers” — gojo satoru.

Your little Satoshi pouted for a moment, clearly missing their presence.You were sure he was going to bawl about it as well, swaying him and reassuring him that he’s going to see them later on. But his loving father Gojo Satoru, was always quick to adapt and took over playing with him after breakfast. Crisis was averted in the department of tears as Gojo Satoshi giggled, his chubby hands clumsily trying to catch the ball Satoru rolled towards him.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: slipping through my fingers by abba

NOTE: i had to skip nanami and toji because today is a very important day. today according to the united nations, is global day of parents. today we should honor parents, biological or not, or those we chose - they are people we should embrace. from gaza, to here in asia, to anywhere, all parents, all those who stand as our parents - they deserve all our love. happy global day of parents from me to you!!! i love you!!!

masterlist

u s and t h e m

kayu's playlist — side 700;

TIME PASSED BY SO FAST. The morning sun filtered through the light gray curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the living room. It was rare for the Gojo household to be this serene. But you were happy that it was the case. It was as if a gentle rain of gentle peace had showered over your home the moment your son was born. It was as if he had completed this family. You knew you weren’t the only one that thought that way.

You hummed softly, feeling the warmth on your skin as you prepared breakfast. It was a good morning.It was one of those rare days when your husband Gojo Satoru was at home. And that puts you in a good mood. Your husband doesn’t sleep much and more so. That has always worried you, even when he was your kouhai. Nothing had changed with the fact that he’s always out and about working and doing missions.

But you worry still, that you aren’t there to soothe him and tell him it was alright to rest. When he’s home, you could do that. You didn’t have to worry as much as you usually do. Having him home means he could be here with the family. That also means he could stay in bed longer, savoring the simple pleasure of waking up next to you. These moments were precious, and you clung to them more than you could explain.

The start of the morning was happily slow, the house enveloped in a serene calm. You cherished the tranquility, knowing how fleeting it often was. As you moved about the kitchen, you could feel the warm sun against your silk robe. There it was again, the familiar sounds of the coffee maker and the sizzling of bacon omelets created a comforting symphony. The sound of the oven racks filled with fresh buttered bread. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of breakfast.

You smiled as you thought about Satoru still in bed, his tousled white hair spread across the pillow, a rare sight of peacefulness. You poured a cup of coffee for yourself, adding two spoonfuls of honey. You knew Satoru would probably not be drinking coffee.

But just in case, you made hot choco he could heat up in the microwave later, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar to him. You take out the eggs from the fry pan and humming as you take out the buttered bread from the oven. Balancing the breakfast plate, you made your way to the living room, placing the plates on the coffee table.

As you expected, the morning birds were already there waiting for you to wake. Megumi and Tsumiki were already awake when you got out of the kitchen. They sat on the couch, engrossed in a morning cartoon, Tsumiki’s laughter and chatter filling the room with warmth and Megumi’s quiet hums as he listened to his sister’s commentary while drinking his carton of choco milk.

Tsumiki glanced up and greeted you with a bright smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, sweetie!" you replied, returning to the kitchen for your coffee mug on the table. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Tsumiki grinned, hugging you by your sides.“Thank you for helping me put my new butterfly comforters last night, Gen-san!”

You smiled at her, urging her to breakfast. “Then go eat, hm?”

You then moved towards the sleepy porcupine haired boy, ruffling his hair with a small grin. He looked away from the television, offering a small, sleepy smile. “You must have been up reading those novels again, hm?”

Megumi's eyes widened slightly before he looked away. “...no, I didn’t.”

“Hmm… so if I check your room, I wouldn’t see a pile of books—”

“No!” He got defensive, standing up from his chair, now almost fully awake.

You blinked and looked at Tsumiki, and the two of you giggled together.

Megumi blushed as he sighed. You patted his head softly, causing him to blush even more. “You know, you’re lucky that it’s a Sunday, kid,” you smiled at him. “You would have been sleepy all day.”

“.....It was good.”

You kissed the top of his head. “I know it was.”

"Where's Satoru-san?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"He's still resting," you said, settling onto the couch beside them. "He had a long week, so we're letting him sleep in today."

Megumi nodded, his attention already drifting back to the show. You called Megumi down to sit by you and Tsumiki as you both ate your meals. Megumi was not the type to indulge in breakfast, he liked just drinking his choco milk and going on with the morning. But some days, he liked to indulge himself. He sat beside you, and put his choco milk on the side. Tsumiki and you started to chatter about the cartoon while Megumi ate in silence, nodding along with what you both were saying.

Tsumiki was happy to help you carry the dishes back into the kitchen while Megumi took a cleaning rag and started to clean the coffee table spotless. Tsumiki started talking about what she was planning to do today, all the while you listened and handed the plates for her to dry with the kitchen towel. Megumi came by soon after, asking for help to wash the cleaning rag.

When that was done, Megumi took out the lint roller and started to check for any speck of dirt like crumbs. When he was done, you three went back to the living room and started watching a movie together. Tsumiki snuggled closer on your right while Megumi slept soundly on your left. You smiled and hugged her back, and massaged Megumi’s hair tenderly.

The baby monitor on the table crackled to life, and you heard soft cooing sounds coming from the nursery. "Looks like our little one is awake for the day." you said, standing up. "I'll go get him."

Tsumiki’s eyes brightened as she nodded. You stood there carefully, trying to be careful not to wake Megumi. You walked down the hallway, the morning light from the wide windows guiding your way. Entering the nursery, you found your six-month-old son awake in his crib, his bright eyes lighting up as he saw you like an ocean in the dawn. You grinned at him.

"Good morning, sweetheart," you cooed, lifting him into your arms. He babbled happily, his tiny hands reaching for your face. “You had a good sleep, didn’t you?”

As you returned to the living room, you saw your husband Satoru emerging from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from his cerulean eyes. He smiled when he saw you holding your son. "Morning, my treasures." he greeted, his voice warm and filled with love. “You both look so lively today, aren’t you?”

“You should say ‘good morning’ to papa, shouldn’t you, Satoshi?” You cooed as you handed your son gently giggled as Satoru took him in his arms.

“You’re just so happy to see ‘e, hm?” Your husband grinned as he gently wrapped his arms around your baby boy. “You should still sleep with us. I miss having you on our bed, ‘toshi.”

“Our Satoshi needs to learn how to be an independent little boy.” You kissed your husband tenderly on his lips, pouting as you part from him. “He’s not gonna last in our bed with all the rolling he’s been doing.”

“But ‘toshi wants to be with his mama and papa, don’t you, little one?” He cooes against your husband, both big blue eyes looking at you. “See, he agrees!”

“Not enough to be an argument.”

“Soon enough, ‘toshi. We’ll get there, don’t worry!”

"We shall see, naughty boys." you replied, grinning at him. "So, did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," he chuckled, kissing your son’s cheek.. "Well, almost as well as our baby here."

You both laughed, and Satoru leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and warm against yours. "I missed waking up with you, y’know?" he murmured. “Knowing you guys are here waiting for me to come home and I can’t be here. It sucks.”

"I’ve missed it too,’toru." you said, feeling a surge of affection for the man standing before you. "Let's enjoy this slow morning together, hm? Make it worthwhile until tomorrow, hm?”

Satoru nodded, taking your son's tiny hand in his. "I keep noticing it. But he's growing up so fast," he huffed at you, a hint of sadness in his voice. "He can sit up now, and he’s rolling. Soon enough he’s gonna start crawling.”

You sighed, kissing your son’s little head. “I still can’t believe he’s already six months old, my love. He’s already so big.”

“Sometimes I wish I could slow down time," Satoru said wistfully, staring at your little boy as he grabbed the sheets in his fingers. “He’s already so big, and I can’t always be home.”

"I know," you said softly, taking a moment to take his free hand in yours. “And don’t feel bad. You’re doing your best. You know that.”

“I do know that.” He sighed, squeezing your hand gently. “But I just… ever since he was born, I just wanted to be his dad. Just wanna stay here at home and raise him. Not out there, fighting curses and stuff. I wanna see him and ‘miki and ‘gumi growing up together, y’know? I don’t wanna do the job anymore.”

You looked into his bright cerulean eyes, seeing the conflict and the deep longing. You knew your Satoru hated being a sorcerer. Everything about it was painful for him. But he liked being a teacher, he liked that job. He wanted to do it for the longest time because he always thought it was the best way he could make change work. He saw that nurturing the youth was the best way to bring the Jujutsu world into the modern world.

But with all that, he also felt that to do what he does, to make it work — he has to sacrifice all the time he could be with you and the kids. And that, he hated more than he hated the sorcerer’s life. He hated being apart from what matters most in his life. Gojo Satoru was just a man too. He’s a man that longs for home, for family.

"You’re an amazing dad, Satoru," you reassured him. "And I know it’s hard, but you’re doing what you can to keep us safe and happy. The kids know that too. They love you for it.”

He nodded, a soft smile forming on his lips as he glanced back at your son. “It’s just… every moment I’m away, I feel like I’m missing out. I want to be there for every milestone, every laugh, every tear. I don’t want to miss anything anymore.”

"I understand," you whispered, your heart aching for him. "And we’ll make the most of the time we have together. Maybe one day, things will change, and you’ll be able to be home more. But for now, let’s cherish every moment.”

Satoru leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he murmured. "For understanding. For always being here. For making this place a home."

"We’re a team, my love." you said, squeezing his hand. "And no matter what, we’ll face everything together, hm? We’ll always be together.”

Your little boy cooed and giggled, making you both look at him. You laugh as you both kiss his cheeks. Looks like he agrees with the two of you. The two of you sat there, soaking in the precious morning. Despite the challenges and the fleeting nature of time, you found solace in each other and the beautiful family you were building. It makes you look forward to more days like these ones. You wanted nothing more than to be embraced by this peace.

The two of you stepped out of your bedroom a little while later, with Satoshi safely nestled in Satoru’s capable hands. Megumi’s porcupine hair sprang up as he sat up from his sleeping position, Tsumiki greeting him awake with a small smile. The soft sounds of your son gurgling and babbling filled the air, drawing Megumi and Tsumiki's attention toward the three of you.

Tsumiki squealed in delight and walked toward you, saying good morning to Satoshi. The baby seemed just as delighted with her, his tiny hand reaching out to Tsumiki. Megumi approached as well, and when Satoshi noticed him, his other hand reached out toward Megumi.

“Good morning, little guy!” Tsumiki cooed, gently taking Satoshi’s hand. "Did you sleep well?”

Satoshi responded with a happy babble, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and joy. Megumi, trying to hide his own excitement, gently took Satoshi’s other hand, earning a giggle from the baby.

“Looks like someone’s happy to see his big brother and sister,” Satoru said with a smile, his eyes soft as he watched the three of them interact. “He’s definitely wanting to have some play time with you both.”

“Then we will, Satoru-san!” Tsumiki grinned as her eyes filled with the stars. “I’m excited to see him play with the blocks again.”

“Hm, ‘toshi managed to lift them up well last night, didn’t he?” Satoru grinned back at her, his cerulean eyes darting at his baby boy. “What do you think, ‘toshi? Can you top yourself today, little dawn?”

Megumi, still holding Satoshi’s hand, looked up at Satoru. “He’s growing up so fast. It feels like just yesterday he was born.”

“I know,” Satoru replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and wistfulness. “But we’re lucky to see him grow and to be a part of his little dawnings, hm?”

You watched the scene unfold, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Every moment is precious, everyone.” you said softly, leaning against Satoru. “And we’re making the most of them.”

As the morning sun continued to filter through the windows, casting a warm glow over your family, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In the gentle embrace of dawn's light, amidst the everyday hustle and bustle, there existed a profound beauty. It was in these simple, yet profound moments that the true essence of life revealed itself. Despite the challenges and the rapid passage of time, these moments of connection and love were what made everything worthwhile.

The morning rays illuminated the room, dancing playfully across the walls, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way they seemed to highlight the love that filled the space. Each tender glance, every shared smile, spoke volumes of the bonds that held your family together.

In these fleeting moments, as the world outside rushed by, time seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor the sweetness of the present. It was as if the universe had pressed pause, granting you a brief respite from the chaos of everyday life.

As you looked around at the faces of your loved ones, bathed in the golden light of morning, you realized that this, right here, was what it was all about. It was about cherishing the small moments, the quiet conversations, and the shared laughter. It was about finding beauty in the ordinary and love in the everyday.

And so, as the sun continued its journey across the sky, you held onto this feeling of gratitude, letting it wash over you like a gentle wave. For in these moments, surrounded by the warmth of your family, you knew that life was truly a gift worth treasuring.

Life could not get any better than this.

You couldn’t wait to see how it unfolds.

This morning will be a happy one again.

That you were never going to doubt.

YOU FEARED THAT BOTH OF YOU WEREN’T READY FOR THIS. A package arrived that morning from aunt Arisu and your mother. Satoru was confused, looking at his phone. He never ordered anything and even when he did, he would get a notification. He learned the hard way of not having a notification when he bought something and you were the one who saw it. He looked at you, shaking his head. You didn’t order either. You were a bit more suspicious with ordering online. Ever since your Mewtwo figurine arrived with discoloration, you were trying to be more careful. You shook your head at him just as much.

When you saw the letter from your mother, you instantly thought you knew what it was. She had been talking about how near Satoshi was with being able to eat solids. Last time you visited Mikoto manor in Kyoto, Satoshi was stealing her natto bowl. She had laughed it off, but now you realized that her laugh was pride for her grandson growing up. And now, both you and Satoru were sitting on the floor, surrounded by an array of baby food jars, each promising a different culinary adventure for your little one.

Sweet potatoes, peas, applesauce, and bananas were neatly lined up, each jar meticulously packaged one after another. You checked the bottom for the expiration dates. You don’t think Satoshi will be able to finish all of it. You don’t even think that Satoshi would like every flavor. He’s still drinking from your breast milk too. It was exciting, that’s for sure. But you were concerned about the fact that these will go to waste.

You held your son with one hand, his weight comfortably nestled against your hip, while the other hand deftly navigated through the array of baby food jars. It was a delicate balancing act, one that you had perfected through countless days of caring for Satoshi. As you carefully sifted through the jars, your fingers grazed over the smooth glass surfaces, each one holding the promise of a new taste sensation for your little one.

Despite the occasional wobble as Satoshi squirmed in your arms, you remained focused, determined to find the perfect combination of flavors to tantalize his taste buds. With each jar you picked up, you couldn't help but marvel at the thoughtfulness that went into creating these tiny culinary delights, each one meticulously crafted to nourish and delight your growing son.

As you finally settled on a few jars to try, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you. It wasn't just about feeding your son; it was about nourishing his curiosity, his sense of adventure, and his growing appetite for life. And as you looked down at Satoshi's eager face, you knew that this simple act of selecting baby food was just the beginning of a lifetime of shared experiences and cherished memories.

Satoru let out a small sigh, running a hand through his white hair as he looked at the jars.”I don’t even know where Arisu got all this.”

“Apparently, my mom and her managed to find all this from one of the windows we hired at the temple.” You say, sighing as you arrange the jars in a safe distance from your son. “And it worked well for her daughter’s baby. So mom and aunt Arisu thought this was going to be good for Satoshi too.”

"I can't believe he's already six months old." he said, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and melancholy. "It feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital. And now, look at this. He’ll be eating this soon enough!”

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "I know, Satoru. It feels like time is slipping through our fingers."

He gave you a small, wistful smile, his bright eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Remember when we finished the fifth-month photo album? I thought I'd be fine, but seeing how much he's grown...I couldn't help but cry."

You chuckled softly, squeezing his knee gently. "And now we're here, trying to figure out what our little boy's first solid food will be. It's a big milestone."

Satoru looked down at your son, who was busy gnawing on a soft toy, oblivious to the significance of the moment. "What do you think he'll like?" he asked, his voice soft and tender.

You glanced at the array of jars, considering each one. "Well, he seems to like sweet things. Maybe we should start with the applesauce?"

Satoru nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Applesauce it is." He reached for the jar, his fingers trembling slightly. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

You smiled, seeing the emotion in his eyes. "Let's do it together."

Gently, you both lifted your son into his high chair, his curious eyes darting between the two of you and the jar of applesauce. You opened the jar, the sweet aroma filling the air, and dipped a tiny spoon into the puree.

Satoru held your son's hands, steadying him as you brought the spoon to his lips. Tentatively, your son opened his mouth, tasting the applesauce for the first time. His eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled in delight as he smacked his lips.

Both you and Satoru laughed, tears of joy streaming down your faces. "He likes it!" Satoru exclaimed, his voice breaking with emotion. "He really likes it!"

You nodded, feeling a swell of happiness in your chest. "He does. Our little boy is growing up so fast."

Satoru wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you both watched your son eagerly reach for the spoon, ready for another taste of his new favorite food. "I love you," Satoru whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I love you too," you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. "And I love our little family."

As the three of you sat there, basking in the glow of this precious moment, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. The soft light filtering through the windows cast a warm embrace over your little family, illuminating the joy and contentment that filled the room.

In that fleeting moment, surrounded by jars of baby food and the sound of Satoshi's delighted babbling, time seemed to stand still. It was as if the universe had conspired to create a perfect tableau, a snapshot of love and togetherness frozen in time.

As you looked at Satoru and then down at Satoshi, a wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm you. Here, in this simple moment, you found everything you had ever wanted—a loving partner, a beautiful child, and a sense of belonging that filled your heart to the brim.

You could have not seen this years ago.

But you were glad you didn’t then.

Because now, you were truly happy.

Beyond all words can truly be express.

ALL THAT PLAYING MADE SATOSHI TIRED. Megumi and Tsumiki excused themselves back to their rooms after spending some time in the living room. They said they had other things they needed to do. You didn’t question it that much, they always took time to play with Satoshi before they did their own things — so you let them go.

He was energetic for hours on end, very much on par with his father’s own energy. But after using all that energy playing with his father, your son started to get groggy. He started crying, getting hungry for milk. His contorted face looks exactly like your husband’s own face when he starts to get mopey when he wants his sweet snacks.

Your husband rolled his eyes playfully, when you pointed it out while breastfeeding him. Satoru then took him from you, to burp him and put him to bed. Your breasts were still full after that, so you had to pump all the rest into a bottle to be frozen later on. By that time, you were too drained of energy. You put the bottles away and your husband Satoru kissed you and thanked you, telling you to go get some rest. He was the one who was going to deal with lunch. He wants to take care of you, he said. And he meant it. With those words, you fell in love with him again. And so you laid down on the couch, trying to take some rest.

Once Satoshi was down for his nap, he put him in his crib. He kisses his cheek, telling him to have good dreams. When Satoru saw you next, you were asleep in the living room couch. He couldn’t help but want to place a kiss on your cheeks. His bright blue eyes were full of awe as you rested on the couch. His precious wife. You made everything in life easier, that was sure. You worked hard taking care of the kids, of your baby, of him. You deserved to rest, he loves to think. And now, he wants to take care of you.

Satoru checked the fridge, humming as he took a look at the food inside. He wanted to prepare something nutritious for everyone but especially something good for you. You were still breastfeeding Satoshi, so your health was paramount in his mind. When he saw the salmon, he knew he was going to make some delicious grilled salmon. He'd read that it helps with the pain in your breasts. He saw the miso, and he thought it would be perfect for marinating the salmon. You’d like it a lot. There was some seaweed in the fridge too, and he thought it would be great in a soup. With some tofu, shiitake mushrooms, and a bit of meat, it would be both hearty and enjoyable.

He moved efficiently around the kitchen, his movements practiced and precise. He marinated the salmon in miso, set it aside to soak in the flavors, and started on the soup. The kitchen filled with the rich aroma of shiitake mushrooms simmering, mingling with the subtle scent of seaweed. As he carefully grilled the salmon, he could hear you stirring awake in the bedroom.

You always had a keen sense of smell, and the scent of the grilled miso salmon must have reached you. He grinned as he heard you padding down the hallway, still a little groggy from sleep. You walked up to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him from behind. "It smells so good, 'toru," you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, his heart swelling with affection. “I made something special for you. Thought it might help with the breastfeeding pain.”

You smiled against his back, pressing a light kiss there. “You’re too good to me.”

Satoru chuckled, a warm, deep sound that resonated through his chest. “Only the best for my favorite person in the world.” he teased gently, turning back to the stove to check on the soup. “The salmon’s almost done. Just a few more minutes.”

You stayed there for a moment, savoring the comfort of being close to him, before reluctantly pulling away to set the table. You were carefully putting each bowl and each utensil, the glasses. You could still feel the grogginess in your limbs, but the delicious smells and the thoughtfulness behind Satoru’s cooking filled you with a warm, contented feeling. Your husband was the best person you could ever ask for, you think. And now, you could only love him even more.

As you finished setting the table, Satoru plated the food, arranging the grilled salmon and bowls of steaming soup with care. “Lunch is served, my darling.” he announced with a flourish, making you laugh. “Come on, you awake now?”

You both sat down, and he watched with satisfaction as you took your first bite of the salmon. “It’s amazing,” you said, your eyes lighting up. “You outdid yourself, Satoru.”

He smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I’m glad you like it.”

“We should call the kids so they can eat with us.” He stands up.

“I’ll come with you, so that we can eat together.” You follow him.

He hands you his own hand. “Well, take my hands.”

You look at him, blinking. “Why?”

“Because holding hands makes everything good.” He grins at you.

You giggled, intertwining his hand with your own. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so corny.”

“Hey! I’m just a man in love!”

The house was relatively a normal house, but it was quite spacious. It was obvious that Satoru spent some money finding a house which would fit all of your comforts. Megumi and Tsumiki’s room was on the other side of the second floor, just a few doors away from your own bedroom and just a little bit further from the nursery. You and Satoru quietly made your way through the house, you both humming a song stuck in his head. And now that he had hummed it long enough, you learned it and hummed with you too.

The house was interestingly silent, but it wasn’t unusual. At times, Megumi was just reading a book he had taken home from the library. And Tsumiki would be too busy finishing her drawings with her windowpane. The silence was always comforting in the Gojo household. It was like being wrapped around you like a warm blanket. However, as you got nearer the kids’ rooms, the tranquility was soon interrupted by faint, muffled voices. You were pretty sure that it came from Megumi’s room.

You exchanged a curious glance with Satoru before heading toward the source of the commotion. Your face furrows. Megumi and Tsumiki rarely fight. If they were fighting, it must be serious. You pulled Satoru towards Megumi’s door. Standing outside Megumi's door, you could hear the sounds of a hushed argument even more clearer now.

"Shhh, Megumi, calm down! you’ll wake Satoshi!” Tsumiki whispered urgently.

“We have to do it right!” Megumi retorted in a low voice, clearly frustrated. “No, no, don’t add that!”

“But it makes it even more lively–”

“It makes it messy!”

Satoru looked at you and you nodded at your husband. You and Satoru knocked gently on the door. But there was no response. Almost instantly, the room fell silent. You looked at your husband again, now confused. After a moment, Fushiguro Tsumiki opened the door ever so slightly, a nervous smile on her face.

“What’s going on here?” Satoru’s eyes trying to check inside the room. You were pretty sure that he was trying to check with his six-eyes, if there was something wrong.. “You kids are getting lively, huh?”

Tsumiki opened the door even more and Megumi and herexchanged quick glances. You and Satoru entered a bit by the doorway before Tsumiki spoke up. “We… um, we were working on something.” She stepped aside, moving to the side as though she was hiding something. “Just for school, you know… like usual.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by their attempt at secrecy. "School projects on a Sunday? Sounds serious."

“If you had projects, you could have told us, ‘miki.” You told her, patting her head. “You don’t have to do them alone.”

“N-no, it's fine. It’s nothing really.”

“Hm, you sure, ‘miki?” Your husband reinforced, then looked at Megumi. “‘bout you, ‘gumi? You okay there?”

Tsumiki's nervous smile widened as she tried to maintain her composure. “Yeah, it’s just a little project. Nothing big.”

But your curiosity was piqued. “Can we see what you’re working on?” you asked gently, trying not to pressure them too much. “If that’s okay with you.”

Megumi and Tsumiki looked at each other.

Tsumiki’s fingers were entangled like spider webs.

Megumi looked down at the edge of his cold feet.

You and Satoru knew those little tells very well.

But you wanted them to tell you about it honestly.

Megumi purses his lips before he lets out a sigh. realizing they couldn’t keep the secret any longer. He stepped forward, his own hands now fidgeting slightly. “Okay, but… it’s not just for school,” he admitted. “It’s….something else.”

Your husband’s dark glasses lowered, lips smiling. “Oh? And what is it, hm? Don’t worry, we won’t judge. If it’s fixable, it's nothing. If it isn’t, it's okay too. As long as you both are alright, okay? Besides, you guys must be hungry. We’ll eat after, okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki looked at both of you.

They both slowly nodded at your husband.

He smiles at them, patting their heads.

“Okay so, what is it all about, kiddos?”

Tsumiki took a deep breath, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and nerves. Her hands are still fidgeting together. “We were making something special. It’s nothing much….but….my friend at school, she’s Korean, and she told me about this holiday they have called Parents’ Day. It’s a day to appreciate your parents, and I thought it was really nice. To…..So…..I convinced Megumi to help me make something for you guys.”

Megumi nodded, still looking a bit uncomfortable. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face slightly turning red. “We never really knew our parents long enough to call them that, parents.” he said quietly. “But you and Gojo–san… you’re all we have. The closest thing to parents we’ve got.”

Tsumiki picked up a small, handmade scrapbook from Megumi’s desk and handed it to you. “We wanted to do something special for you both. To show you how much you mean to us.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you took a look at the scrapbook in Tsumiki’s hands. Satoru, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, put a hand on Megumi’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. As you accepted the scrapbook from Tsumiki's outstretched hands, you felt a rush of nostalgia wash over you.

Opening the scrapbook, the weight of the memories contained within the pages was palpable, each photo and memento a testament to the bonds of friendship and the shared experiences they had all treasured. Satoru's silent gesture spoke volumes, his cerulean eyes shimmering with unshed tears that mirrored the emotions swirling within Hiromi's own heart. The gentle pressure of his hand on Megumi's shoulder, squeezing it as though to thank him for this little gift.

In that fleeting moment, as you held the scrapbook in your hands, you felt a profound sense of gratitude.. Their unwavering support and understanding had been a source of strength during the darkest moments of your journey, and now, as you reminisced about the past, it served as a beacon of hope for the future. Nothing else mattered, but the wonder of the future. Because they were here with you. Megumi and Tsumiki, and now Satoshi — all three were truly yours and Satoru’s world.

With tears glistening in your eyes, you turned to Tsumiki, your voice choked with emotion. "Thank you," you whispered, "For this, and for everything. ‘miki, you and Megumi are our world, hm? Never forget that.”

Tsumiki's smile was gentle and reassuring, her eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion that permeated the room. "Thank you for loving us, me and Megumi." she replied softly, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness.

“Oh ‘miki, you don’t have to thank us for that.” Satoru whispered, pulling Megumi closer to him. Megumi looked like he was going to lose it. But he didn’t push Satoru away. He just let him pull him closer. “This is…this is just….”

Opening the first page, you saw Megumi and Tsumiki's handwriting: “Happy Parents' Day. Thank you for choosing us. We may not be your kids by blood, but we’re happy that you still chose to love us. We love you. Tsumiki and Megumi.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you read the heartfelt message. You looked at Satoru, who was equally moved, then back at Megumi and Tsumiki. “This is… this is the most beautiful gift we’ve ever received, you both.” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

Satoru knelt down, pulling both kids into a tight hug. “You two are our family,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “We love you more than anything.”

You joined the embrace, wrapping your arms around all two of them. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For being the best children we could ever ask for. You both and Satoshi, you’re our world okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki nodded, their eyes shining with tears of their own. "We love you too," Megumi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tsumiki nodded in agreement, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "You're the best parents we could ever have."

You cried for a while, just embracing each other. The lunch got cold, that was certain. But you could always heat it up again. This moment, this is what mattered. Time may be slipping from your fingers all the time, but you could live in these moments forever, you know that.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you felt the weight of the world lift, replaced by the comfort of love and understanding. It didn't matter that the food grew cold or that the outside world continued to spin on its axis. In this moment, with Satoru's arms around you, with Megumi and Tsumiki’s warmth on you, Satoshi’s warm small hands on your own — you knew that you will live on happily. You could survive anything, if you have them. You could live in their solace.

As tears slowly dried on your cheeks, you knew that life was a series of fleeting moments, but it was these moments of connection and intimacy that made it all worthwhile. You held onto Satoru and the kids a little tighter, grateful for the love that anchored you in a world that often felt uncertain. You will be alright, that was for sure.

Everything will be alright, you knew that well enough.

You couldn’t wait to see what could be in the future.

You couldn’t wait to grow old with the love of your life.

You couldn’t wait to see your kids grow up happily.

epilogue

november, 2018;

Fushiguro Megumi stood at the gates of Jujutsu High, his heart heavy with the weight of recent events. Shibuya had left its mark on him, both physically and emotionally, and now he found himself back at the place where it all began. But now there are other worries, other concerns that need him. He didn’t come and see you, because he knew you would forbid him from being in danger. And he can’t stop himself. He had to do what he could. Now, more than ever.

His purpose for coming back here, even though it was dangerous, was clear—to retrieve some of his belongings before disappearing into hiding. Before he finds Itadori, he had to get some things here, ones that were needed for survival.

With determined steps, he made his way to Gojo–sensei’s office, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The door creaked open, revealing a room frozen in time—a testament to the chaos that had engulfed their world.

His blue-green eyes fell upon the photo album, sitting on Gojo–sensei’s desk, untouched since that day, since October 31st. He purses his lips as he thinks about it. Should he go? He tried to stop himself, but he knew he couldn’t. He missed him. Megumi knew he did. But he didn’t want to say it out loud.

Because it wouldn’t be easy. He wouldn’t be able to move forward with what had to be done. Still, he needed some comfort. He needed some relief. To know what it was like to have known that man, that man who had raised him.

Megumi approached the room slowly, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. He gulped, his throat tight with emotion, before twisting the door open. Gojo-sensei's room stood before him, a sanctuary untouched by the chaos that had engulfed the rest of the world.

The air was heavy with the scent of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee—a comforting presence that wrapped around Megumi like a warm embrace. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail—the neatly arranged shelves, the piles of books stacked haphazardly on the desk, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains.

Gojo-sensei never really locked his room. Because people knew not to go in. It was only for him, this sanctuary. Not even the higher-ups had the courage to intrude upon his private space. Not even when they had attacked Jujutsu High awhile ago. And so since then, since he had been taken by others from Megumi, from the world that adored him —Gojo Satoru’s office had no occupants.

Megum took small careful strides as hei moved forward, careful not to alert anyone of his presence in the premises. He pauses for a moment. He sighed as he let his hand reach out to touch the smooth surface of the desk. And there, nestled among a stack of papers, paperwork that man refused to ever do without you, Megumi found it—the scrapbook he and Tsumiki had given you and Gojo–sensei all those years ago.

As he gingerly lifted the scrapbook from its place, a rush of memories flooded his mind. He remembered the countless hours spent carefully selecting photos, writing heartfelt messages, and crafting each page with love and care. It had been a labor of love from him and Tsumiki, to you and Gojo–sensei.

As he flipped through the pages, the images leaped out at him like ghosts from another worldly plane—smiling faces frozen in time, laughter echoing through the halls of that house, moments of triumph and joy captured forever in glossy photographs. Each page told a story, a snapshot of their journey together, and as Fushiguro Megumi traced his fingers over the familiar images, he couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion in his chest.

It was a reminder of the family they had built years ago, in a home that was filled with tenderness—a bond forged not by blood, but by shared experiences, shared hardships, and shared dreams. And as Megumi held the scrapbook in his hands, he knew that no matter where life took him, these memories would always be his anchor, grounding him.

With a sense of reverence, he tucked the scrapbook under his arm, knowing that it was all he could have of his family right now. And as he left Gojo-sensei's room behind him, he knew whatever was going to come was not going to be easy. But he had this. Until you all met again, this would be enough. Until he had his family again, he wouldn't stop at nothing. He won’t let those people, those evil people, rob him of his family ever again.

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faintrustle · 2 days

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akxmee · 3 days

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𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗥 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗠. //𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎.

He loved her since childhood, yet she married another man.

Words: 11.3k

Suguru Geto was never seen like a man interested in relationships. Not flings, not one-night stands, real relationships. Unlike his best friend satoru who used to have tons of girlfriends week after week, Suguru wasn't fond of it. Don't get him wrong, he did like to have his fun too, but once he had it and was satisfied he never once was seen again.

It's not like he didn't want a relationship either. He wished for the warmth of a relationship, he craved the proximity and he needed that closeness with someone, but not with anyone. Because he only wanted you.

He always did.

Everytime he felt some random woman's hand run through his hair, every moment he felt someone admiring his beauty, everytime he was sent gifts from some "secret admirer" on valentines, everyday he woke up next to some lady he met on a party..he wished it was you. No matter how many hands he held, they never fit his like yours do. No matter how many people he met, none of their personalities was made for his like yours is. Maybe that's why he never really even tried to establish a serious romantic relationship with someone, because he knows no one will fit him like you do.

"It's no use. If she doesn't like you by now, give up. Want something to smoke the pain away?"

Yeah, shoko said that to him more than once and he remembers it too well. He always ignored the last part, because Suguru knew you didn't like the smell of cigarettes from the way your beautiful face turns into an expression of disgust when you smell it. He has always been able to admire your beauty, even when he first met you as a child and decided to play with this pretty kid from the other class.

Oh, how he cursed the day that he met you.

He remembers it as clear as a day, it was a snowy day in primary school. He was in class, waiting while sitting on a chair while he waited for his patents to pick him up since they were late because of work. All the kids were already gone, and he was just staring at the floor while patiently following his teacher's orders.

—Psst!

He looked around for the owner of that sound. The door wasn't opened, and nobody was inside of the class too.

—Over here!

Suguru looked to his right, seeing another child standing on a chair to get part of their face visible through the tall window. The kid waved, and he found himself waving too.

—You look bored, want to play?

He looked around the classroom for a second. He was more than happy to have someone to play, but it was a classroom. What game could he play here, if it wasn't doing basic mathematical exercises?

—Bur there are no games here..

To his surprise, the child nodded.

—I know! But look.—The kid proceeded to signal to the opposite window, the one that had looks to the exterior of the school.—There's snow. We can make a snowman, like the movies!

He sounded interested in her offer. However, he was still not fully trusting you.

—Won't we get sick? I'll say it's your fault if i catch a cold!

He said, pointing at you with his finger along with a sly smile. Even if there was a dirty window between the two of you, he could still feel the warmth of the smile you just gave him then.

—No worries! I'll make sure you stay warm.

—You promise?

He looked at the child's innocent eyes that grew excited as he seemed to have agreed to play with her now. His lips curved into a smile due to this.

—I promise!

And he trusted her word. His mom once said that promises couldn't be broken once you make them, so that kid was responsible of him now in case he grew cold. He got off of his chair, opened the door and finally saw her whole, not just half of their face looking at him through a window. The child he has been talking to smiled as they got off a chair to get to his level, and he helped her get the chair back to the classroom it was borrowed from before going outside.

The kid was called Y/N, he learned.

And you were so fun to be with. He played with you, made a few snowmen, threw snowballs at eachother, and laughed the hardest for a long time when he hit you and you fell to a huge pile of snow. He thought you were going to be boring at first, that you were just one of those stupid kids who laughed at him because he claimed to see "spirits" or "curses" as he liked to call them, but you weren't. You didn't even understand what he meant when he talked to you about them, however you were sweet about it. You even said it was alright and that everyone has imaginary friends, he just has tons of them! That's cool, isn't it? Having so many friends must be cool.

For a moment, he thought it was cool too.

Not a curse, not a gift, but something cool only he could do.

And that single feeling of being someone "cool", someone interesting and not some crazy child, made him feel free for the hour he kept playing with you until his parents picked him up. He was scolded for being outside and catched a huge cold that had him in bed for two whole days, but it was okay. He liked the way you kept him entertained that day, so he forgave you for breaking the promise.

Yeah, he liked you.

Suguru sighed, those memories he thought he would eventually forget coming back to him. He was a shy kid, and you made him get out of his comfort zone. That little you tore down his walls and stepped all over his beloved silence until he began to hate it as much as you did. Now, there was no place for it when you were together and he got used to you yapping everytime just like Satoru. Only difference was he actually enjoyed your voice, he found the tone you spoke to him with quite relaxing.

He noticed how you always had a different tone for each person.

It was endearing, to say the least. Suguru loved the way you called for him, the way his name sounded so sweet from your lips. When you talked to him, he noticed your voice was soft. Softer than usual, soft as if you knew you didn't have to raise your voice for him to understand you better. Sometimes there wasn't even a need to say something for him to understand you, but he still pretended he didn't hear you just to listen to your voice once again.

He adored your voice.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the reason he was calling you to tell you this instead of texting you right now.

He thought about it once again, how brave he was being right now when as a teen he couldn't be able to even look at your face despite being your childhood friend. It was all because he had just discovered he had this silly crush on you, wasn't it?

Oh, how he cursed the day he fell in love with you.

It was when he recently joined the jujutsu tech, as far as he remembers. You two were then at his home, with a bottle and a half of alcohol empty, doing both a celebration and goodbye party. He got into the college, but that only meant he was leaving you behind to go and live in Tokyo while you stayed at his childhood town. That explains why you were completely drunk, drunk enough to look at him and not think about how he was going to leave next week.

—Going to fall asleep already?

You looked at Suguru with sleepy eyes. Right, you two were on the sofá with some of those random pathetic TV shows at 3am as background noise as you leaned on his shoulder and he talked about the people he was going to have class with. None of the ones he described to you seemed interesting since, for you, your Suguru was always going to be the strongest. However, you listened to him carefully anyways like you always do.

—No, I won't.

He chuckled.

—Right. I'll be guessing you're spending the night here?

He felt a slight nod against his shoulder.

—You even dare to think i won't?

—Not at all, m'am.—You rolled your eyes at the formal nickname, getting your head off his shoulder as a punishment. You also intended to get up to be more dramatic, but a hand on your waist stopped you.—You're drunk, i wouldn't recommend standing up just yet.

You looked to the side, meeting his half lidded eyes and cocky smile as he talked to you. A slight blush crept its way on his cheeks due to the alcohol, but didn't sound drunk at all despite all of that.

—So what? It's time to go to bed anyways, Suguru.

—You actually intend to go to bed knowing how tipsy we are right now?

—No, but i do want a blanket from your bedroom.

He looked at you and wondered if you were serious. Alcohol warms people up, so how could you be cold? It was winter, but his house was surely warm enough to stay hot and comfy.

—Hell, are you sick?

The hand on your waist pulled you closer to him and as a result you ended up with your head on his chest. Next thing you knew, a pair of soft lips were pressed on your temple for a few seconds until the feeling of them disappeared.

—You don't seem to have a fever.

You looked up, not caring about what he just did and how your actions could be misunderstanded if someone walked in right then. You were always this close to Suguru. You didn't mind being this close to his chest, neither did you care if he pulled you by the waist, and the feeling of his lips on your forehead to check your temperature was just another of the things you've grown used to. Not only that, but you were too drunk to even give it a second thought. Hell, he could have kissed you on the lips with the excuse of checking if you're sick and you wouldn't have thought anything bad about it because of how sleepy you were getting.

And he knew that.

He just didn't know why he wanted to do it so bad.

That time when he was leaning in to kiss your forehead his tired gaze lingered on your lips for a bit, nothing too weird. You were wearing that lipstick shade he helped you pick, and it suited you really good! It was okay, so why did he feel the urge to ruin it until his lips were of that shade too? Why did he feel like he was doing something wrong by pulling you into his chest, thinking of this as something that wouldn't be quite considered friendship?

—Hey, Suguru.

Your voice interrumpted his thoughts. You were still on his chest, now in a comfy position and playing with a strand of his loose dark hair. The man simply looked at you, mumbling a soft "mm?" waiting for you to keep going even if he knew you were just going to tell the most carefree thing ever since you were drunk.

—I've been thinking, and i'm really glad you're the one I get to call my best friend.

Best friend.

Yeah, he needed to get that carved into his brain urgently since that was what you two were, are, and will be. There was no space to even think about something as complex as some kind of attraction to his kind of cute childhood friend, and he was once again reminded of it. All the times he got butterflies just because you held his hand like you always do, he needs to get rid of all of them. All of the times his heart raced because of a silly kiss on his cheek, the long hugs, the late night talks about life..it needs to stop. It was dirty to think of you in a way beyond friendship when you saw a brother in him, and he knew that. You didn't see it the way he wanted you to, so he had to start forcing himself to think the way you do.

It should be easy, that's what he thought when he first felt this strange around you.

Yet, it was anything but easy.

So with a sigh, he placed a hand on top of your head while the other one rested on your lower back. He positioned the two of you so you completely lay on the couch and turned off the TV, admiring how you didn't even question his actions as you waited for an answer to what you said a few seconds ago.

—Yes, i'm grateful you're my friend too.

"Liar", he thought.

But what could he do? He doesn't like you anymore.

It's clear now,

He entirely loves you.

The phone made a sound, and it once again stopped him from daydreaming.

—Suguru?

He heard you talk from the other line. The man smiled just by hearing you call his name.

—Y/N.

Suguru called your name back, his voice was deep and sweet, and had this endearing sweet touch that made it sound like he was purring your name.

—It's late, why did you call me?

You didn't even sound worried despite the fact that he was calling you so out of nowhere, this was a normal thing. He kept quiet for a bit, he could hear some utensils being moved around.

Perhaps you were at home, cooking?

That's good, he loved your cooking. You made food for him several times, so many that he lost count. Seeing you cook while he waited leaning on the kitchen's counter made him dream of a universe where you cooked for him everyday. Oh, how he imagined you cooking something for him as he got from work. You and him, at home, married and not friends. That's the perfect life, the life he desired next to you.

However, it was not possible.

He exhaled.

—I'm not going to attend your wedding.

He didn't even get to keep talking, and the sound of a metal object —some cutlery, he guessed— hitting the floor was already interrupting him.

—What do you mean?!

You asked him desperately, getting worried. What did he mean by not coming to your wedding? Was he crazy? He was one of the only people you specifically wanted to see at your ceremony. You wanted to spend your special day with him, who you considered part of your family at this point. You wanted to recieve an speech from him congratulating you as he promised, you wanted him to joke about how your husband's family was so dry, you wanted him to see you in your wedding dress.

And he did, too.

He just wasn't able to.

—Suguru!

You called for him, waiting for an explanation. He stayed quiet for a second, the only thing you could hear from his line was the sound of heavy steps and wind. He was walking through an alley, leaning on the wall once he was there.

—Listen, i can't.

—Why?!

He wondered about what excuse would suit best right now to give it to you. "I love you" he wished to say, but was it really relevant when you were soon to marry another man? How could he even dare to be as selfish as that, letting you know of all of the times he took advantage of your friendship to have an excuse to hold you? How could he, as a man, ever think of saying such a thing? However, you did deserve to know the truth. Was he really going to tell you?

He shook his head, a bittersweet smile in his face.

—I can't, Y/N. Something just came up, and I-

—Something more important than your best friend's wedding day? Really, Suguru?

—Yeah.

He hated the way your breath hitched at that, the way he could feel the pain in your voice. Because the pain you felt, he felt it even worse. Everytime the smallest of the corners of your heart broke, his whole soul shattered.

—And you can't even give me an explanation?

Your voice cracked. He just stayed quiet, and you got your answer.

Your tone changed this time.

—I hope you're glad of what you've just done. Don't you dare to call me again, Geto.

You hung up, and he knew he fucked you up.

His last name was spat with what felt like venom through his ears, the feeling of not hearing you calling out his name with a cheery tone had him at the verge of tears. It was his decision, so why was it so hard to do this to you? You were supposed to be the only woman he could ever love, and he just hurt you.

His shaky hands threw his phone across the street, frustration getting over him.

Fuck it.

He crawled along the alley still leaning against the wall for support, sitting on the ground once he reached the edge of it. His breathing was accelerated, he didn't know if it was due to stress or the stinging pain coming from his shoulder.His head leaned back as he hissed in pain, clutching on his arm.

Or what was left of it, anyways.

Blood stained his hands, which he didn't even realize were paler than usual. He left out a shaky breath, recalling all of the things that happened faster than he could ever imagine. He was beat up by this kid called Yuta, ruined his relationship with you and was about to die, all in a span of time of a few hours.

It was for the best.

—Suguru.

A voice called his name. For a second he thought he would see you, but the voice was too masculine to be yours. His mind must be playing games on him.

He opened his eyes, seeing a white haired man he knew a little too well.

—Ah, Satoru.

Satoru looked at him with those eyes, those eyes that used to be filled with emotion now looking empty. His friend kept quiet, so Suguru kept talking.

—You know, just had a chat with your wife. We might have fought a little.

Yes, Satoru's wife. That was no one but you, the only woman he could have ever desired, taken from him by his best friend. He was mad at first, hearing that you and satoru were offcially dating.

Satoru knew he liked you, so why?

He was crazy, refused to talk to Satoru in private or when you were not looking. He placed his trust on Satoru when he said he would respect his crush, and he betrayed it. He didn't even understand why would he do such thing when Satoru was known for having like.. four, five? girlfriends in one month. He didn't want his best friend to break your heart.

But then he saw it.

He saw the way Satoru looked at you and noticed how you looked at him back.

Fuck, you loved eachother.

Because he knew that gaze of yours, he dreamed of it more than he could ever count. He wished of the day you would look at him like that, but Satoru got that dream come true before him. He cried until the next morning that day, cursing fate for giving him a heart that wasn't his, but yours. He cried because no matter what he did for a decade, Satoru got you in just two years.

Was it Satoru's eyes? Was it his pale hair? Perhaps you thought he was unattractive. He knew he was always going to be less than his best friend, but he thought that maybe you would choose him and not the strongest.

But you didn't.

And with time, he learned how to live with it. He helped Satoru pick anniversary gifts for you, supported your relationship with him, calmed you down when you and Satoru fought, helped satoru pick a ring and propose to you... Hell, he was going to be Satoru's man of honor at your wedding too. How could he not? You looked so happy when you gave him that handwritten invitation letter inviting him you to your wedding with another man while his heart crushed in silence.

But everytime, he smiled at you.

Because you were happy, and Suguru wouldn't want anything but that.

And that's why he, even though he took the thing he wanted the most, smiled at satoru who was looking at him in this pathetic situation where he didn't even have an arm and was covered in blood. Yes, he had no bad things to say about his best friend if he was the one making you happy.

—Told her i wouldn't attend the wedding. You must understand why, huh?

Satoru tried his best not to let his serious and professional expression fall at Suguru's words. He seemed as if he was so calm, but he knew what he was thinking. The white haired man simply kneeled down in front of him.

—She used to like you too.— He spoke in a low voice.—A year before we started dating. Remember when she started to wear ponytails? Asked me what your type was and i said that because i didn't actually know.

Suguru's eyes darted towards his friend's, looking for the slightest clue that would indicate that he was lying. He wasn't, he knew that gaze.

—Why are you telling me that?

—Thought you would want to die with a happy thought. I know you still..

"You still love her" he wanted to say, but suguru's chuckle didn't let him continue. Satoru saw the widest smile he could have seen in his best friend's face since years and years ago. He laughed and laughed, forgetting about the pain he was feeling at that moment. More than feeling like he lost a chance, he felt glad; not because he didn't even realize it, but because of the fact that if you liked him once, that would only mean you had looked at him. It was okay, because you laid your eyes on him and he was chosen by you. He was worthy enough to be liked by you, and he felt his younger self scream of joy inside of him.

That made him even happier, because It means that maybe, in another universe, he gets to make his dream come true and finally date you withouth having to worry about ruining your friendship. In another universe, maybe he gets to be the reason of your happiness. A universe with no curses, where you two live separated from the world and live a married life with children.

Yeah, nothing could make him happier than that.

So he closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall, relaxed and ready to accept the fate his friend was going to give him. His smile didn't ever fade, grateful for what Satoru told him.

—At least curse me a little at the very end..

—AUTHOR'S NOTE: honestly not really happy with how i've written this fic, i was kind of rushed. However, hope you liked it!

It's not edited, so let me know if there are any mistakes.

196 notes · View notes

madaqueue · 2 days

Text

forty-love

pairing: satoru gojo x suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: tennis player gojo, tennis player geto. smut. language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (baby, sweetheart), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), creampie, cum eating, p in v (doggy, reverse cowgirl). 18+, MDNI

word count: 5.1k

a/n: can you guys tell i watched challengers and miss tennis also yay my first stsg smut (based on their vibes from hidden inventory bc they're just so silly teehee) hope y'all enjoyyy (i also have no idea how this got so long oops)

Heat radiates off the court, the sun beaming down against your skin. The air is dry, tense, the only sound between the chirping cicadas is the bright green tennis ball being thrown against the ground.

Once.

Twice.

Gojo readies his racquet, tossing the ball into the air as his eyes meet the glaring sun. In one swipe the crack of his serve electrifies the stadium. The opposing team swings but doesn’t even come in contact with his hit, the ball rattling the fence behind them as applause breaks out.

“And with that, Gojo and Geto have won the men’s doubles!” the announcer’s voice booms through the arena.

The white-haired boy tosses his racquet aside as he charges his teammate, gripping him in a hug as they tumble across the court. Even from the stands their grins are palpable, the shared ecstasy of victory radiating off their bodies.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

“Y’know,” Gojo starts through a mouthful of orange slices, “that backhand you hit during the second set was crazy.”

“Satoru,” Geto chuckles, “you know it’s rude to talk with food in your mouth.” Reaching up a hand, he wipes away the juice that had begun trickling down the other boy’s chin with his thumb. “But thank you. That’s what practice gets you.”

“I practice!” Gojo retorts, continuing to chew the flesh of the fruit.

“When, between all the beer and girls?” Suguru takes a long sip of his Gatorade, his dark eyes never wavering from the bright cerulean of his friend’s.

“S’not my fault I know how to balance work and play,” he teases. “Speaking of which, you’re going to the Nike party with me tonight.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Satoru, we have our final match against each other tomorrow, and I’m not planning to throw the game because you just so happen to convince me to join you in your debauchery.”

“Yes,” Gojo smirks, “because I’m gonna be there, and I refuse to go without you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Geto acquiesces, unable to refuse Satoru’s dramatic pout as he bats his eyelashes. “Fine, but you have to at least let me win a set when we play tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Satoru beams, filling his mouth with another slice of orange.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

The party is loud, neon lights glaring against the darkness of the night. Music blares as miscellaneous players chat, chasing whatever brand deal or sponsorship they think they deserve.

You’re better than that, though - after all, you already have your scholarship lined up for school next year, a full-ride to play tennis until you graduate college. The peace of that knowledge allows you to stand at the outskirts of the party, idly sipping your drink, unpressured to force a conversation with those around you.

When Gojo and Geto walk in, you swear you feel the air thicken. Recruiters flock to them, opponents run from them, but everyone who’s anyone knows that they’re here. You roll your eyes at the theatrics, turning your attention to tug at the hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” a sudden voice appears beside you as the smell of cologne hits your senses, the scent vaguely reminiscent of the ocean. Glancing up, your eyes meet the brightest blue ones you’ve ever seen. “I’m Gojo,” he introduces, extending his hand out.

Crossing your arms, you smirk. “I know who you are.”

Behind him, another man suddenly appears, his dark hair pulled back into a bun. “I’m Geto,” he waves, not willing to enter the trap of your rejection by offering his hand.

Gojo’s lips form into a sly grin as he eyes you up. “Well, we know who you are, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he tilts his head - god, he was cocky. “You won the women’s singles today, we caught the end of your game. You played well.”

Taken aback at his genuine compliment, you almost let your guard down, relaxing your shoulders. “T-thanks,” you stammer, suddenly taking in the reality of being flattered by the Satoru Gojo.

“But,” he smirks, “you should’ve won an hour before we got there - your opponent had a weak spot on her forehand volley, you should’ve exploited it.”

And there’s the overconfidence.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “Thanks,” you reply sarcastically, turning to leave, “but I don’t remember asking you to be my coach.”

“You haven't, yet.” A devilish smile is plastered on Satoru’s face, illuminated by the glowing lights around you.

“What he means to say,” Suguru interrupts, shooting a momentary glare at his friend, “is that we’d love to play with you sometime. You’re really good, and we can tell you have a lot of potential.”

Your cheeks involuntarily blush at his kindness, his honesty.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” you mumble through the grin beginning to form on your face, still gathering your things to go. The noise of the music was beginning to blur your vision, your head pounding after a full day in the sun. Your muscles hurt, and you just want to collapse into the uncomfortable mattress in your hotel room.

“Leaving already?” Gojo teases as you begin to walk away from the pair.

Geto smacks his arm before looking at you apologetically. “If you’re staying at the same hotel the competition put all the players up in, there’s a way home that goes right along the ocean, if you want us to walk with you?”

“Didn’t you guys just get here, though? Don’t you want to stay and get courted by brand deals or something?” you ask somewhat rhetorically, incredulous that they would choose to leave with you.

“Psh, like we need it,” Gojo rolls his eyes.

With that, Suguru fully shoves him, his lanky limbs nearly catching over a nearby chair before he regains his balance, a pout evident on his face as he stares at the dark-haired man. “Again, what Satoru means is that he’s already got a Nike sponsorship, and I’m on a scholarship for next year; we only came tonight because we had to make an appearance.”

The gentleness in his voice inspires trust, a certain warmth to him that invites you in. Sighing, you accept their shared offer. “Well, I guess if we’re walking the same way back anyways, you might as well join me.”

A soft grin spreads across Suguru’s features as he leads you and a falsely-dejected Satoru from the venue.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

The soft sounds of waves crashing fills your ears from where you kneel along the beach, sand scratching at your bare thighs. The two men sit across from you, Satoru’s head resting on Suguru’s shoulder, his white hair illuminated under the moonlight. Somehow your walk home had detoured when they promised to show you their favorite spot, one they had found when they competed here a few years prior: the cove where you currently rest is private, away from the noise of the party or any other remnants of society. It’s peaceful.

You clear your throat, finally breaking the silence. “You two played well today too, y’know.”

Geto lights up at your words, a new excitement brewing beneath his skin. “You watched our game?” His hands continue methodically working over Gojo’s calves which sprawled across his lap, releasing the tension he had built up from their earlier match.

“Of course I did,” you hum, your fingers absentmindedly drawing small patterns into the sand. “I wouldn’t have missed your game for the world. You two are about to qualify for the Open, and I honestly think you have a good shot at winning it.”

“Oh, we’re gonna win it,” Gojo states matter-of-factly, his gaze lazily focused on the sky above you.

You can’t help but laugh at his confidence, the sound bubbling from your throat against the stillness of the night air. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” he begins, rising from where he rested against Geto, locking eyes with you, “we’re the best.”

“You aren’t the best,” you scoff in reaction. Hearing your own words, your face suddenly flushes in embarrassment - you did not just insult the two top-ranked tennis players in the country, did you?

Satoru pulls himself onto his hands and knees, leaning forward towards you as his eyes glimmer with the excitement of a challenge. Suguru’s hand rests on his back, ready to pull him back down if he oversteps (as he often does).

“Oh yeah?” he taunts, inching closer to you. “And why is that?”

“Because what you play isn’t tennis.”

Your words seem to stun the two boys, their actions suddenly halting as they turn to you. Allowing a moment of silence to settle, your gaze falls on the waves before you, the calmness soothing your thoughts.

“Tennis is electricity, an ocean. It’s a back and forth, a give and take. All I saw out there was you taking.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with taking what I want,” Gojo smirks, “especially when what I want is to win.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you follow, “but it’s not tennis.” Standing, you brush the sand from your skirt. “I hope to see you two actually play tennis tomorrow.”

Before you can leave, Geto’s voice breaks the silence.

“Come by our room tonight,” he purrs, gathering his confidence. “I’ll show you I know more than just how to take.”

A glimmer of mischief twinkles in your eyes as you turn to him, a sly smile growing across your face. “I’ll think about it.”

Turning, you walk across the beach back to the hotel.

In your absence, Gojo playfully smacks Geto’s arm. “Holy shit dude, that was smooth!” he laughs. “You think it’s actually gonna work for us?”

“‘Us’?” Geto smirks. “I was the one putting in all the work back there, you were just being an overconfident ass.”

“Psh, girls love my confidence,” he chuckles, a sound like raindrops falling on the calm waters of the sea. His blue eyes nearly glow under the moonlight, a brightness to them that’s never lost on Suguru. “Better head back and get ready for our date, though.”

“You keep saying ‘our,’” Geto teases, a newfound warmth beginning to cover his body in contrast to the cool night air as the two stand to leave.

“You know it’s always you and me, buddy,” Satoru smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders as they plod through the sand. “You and me.”

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

A knock alerts Gojo and Geto, who had been laying across the floor of their shared hotel room, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Satoru reaches the door first, swinging it open and welcoming you inside. Suguru, meanwhile, remains seated on the floor, his eyes covering your body as you saunter towards him: the curve of your thighs perfectly captured under your tennis skirt, the dip of your shoulders under your tank top, somehow a perfect balance of strength and poise.

Crossing your legs, you seat yourself across from Geto; Gojo is quick to join, holding out a beer to you. Shortly after he cracks open his own, he tosses another to Suguru as he spreads his legs out into the space between the three of you.

Tension builds in the air, an unspoken question forming in the back of your minds: why are you really here?

Even you weren’t certain - sure, Geto and Gojo were hot, and talented, obviously, a true force to be reckoned with in the tennis world. But more than that, they had a certain reputation, a gravitational pull to them. Anyone who got close to the pair was launched into fame, their very presence enough to garner wealth by proxy. And, yes, you had your scholarship, but was it a sin to want more? You had dreamt of going pro since you were old enough to hold a racquet, and now, with the two of them seated before you, it finally feels within your grasp.

Satoru clears his throat. “So, did your boyfriend happen to catch your game today?” he raises his eyebrows.

Gojo was many things, but subtle was not one of them.

“No,” you state, your gaze maneuvering between the two. They shift uncomfortably, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

They both visibly relax, grinning in unison.

“Good,” Suguru hums, almost inaudible above the hum of the air conditioning.

“What about you, did your girlfriends watch you play?” you smirk, bouncing the question back to them.

Geto is quick to shake his head, “Don’t have one,” he smiles easily.

Leaning forward, Gojo ruffles his friend’s hair, which now hangs loosely over his shoulders, released from the bun that held it earlier in the night. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he purrs, tilting his head towards Geto, “his lips haven’t touched a woman’s in a while.”

Suguru roughly shoves him off, a sigh leaving his lips. Turning his attention to you, he forces his frown into a weak smile. “I promise, I’ve kissed plenty of girls.” Tilting your head slightly in jest, his words finally register in his mind. “N-not like that, just, I-”

“I think she gets it,” Gojo jokes, pulling himself from where he landed on the ground to sit behind his friend.

Another momentary silence falls, the energy between you crackling in expectation. Satoru’s hands find their way back to Suguru’s body, idly massaging his shoulders as the pair fixes their gaze on you. Behind Gojo’s irises lies burning hot flames; behind Geto’s, well-controlled embers.

“So,” you eye the boys seated across from you, a subtle intimacy underlying their actions, the gentle motion of Satoru’s fingers into Suguru’s skin, “have you two ever kissed?”

“No.” Geto answers immediately.

“Well…” Gojo trails off with a smirk, “remember that one time?”

Suguru shoots him a glare that could kill, eyes cold despite the fire behind them. “That doesn’t count.”

Leaning forward, a grin tugs at the corners of your lips as the rough carpet digs into your skin. “Oh, do tell?”

Gojo mimics your motions, pulling himself onto his knees in front of you. “Around the time we met, Suguru here, the sweetheart he is, got himself a girlfriend but hadn’t had his first kiss yet. So I, being the generous friend that I am, helped teach him how to do it.”

Glancing at Geto, a redness spreads across his cheeks, one that could be designated as rage or embarrassment, either an appropriate reaction to the information that had been unexpectedly revealed. “That was years ago, Satoru,” he grumbles.

“So you’re saying you’re a pro now, Geto?” you purr, egging him on as you place your palms in front of you, the air between you two sparking. “Why don’t you show me what Gojo taught you then, hm?”

A hint of panic lies behind his gaze as he meets yours, taking in a steadying breath. Despite the hesitation in his mind, his body knows he wants this, wants you. Without a word, he lifts a hand to your face, cupping your jaw against his rough fingertips. Pulling you in, his lips meet yours.

He’s soft, calculated, as he kisses you. Parting his lips he gently swipes his tongue along your lower lip, bringing you closer and closer. He’s patient and reserved, just like how he plays.

Separating for a moment, a small smile appears on his face before you turn your attention to the man next to you.

“Alright, Gojo, let’s learn from the coach,” you hum.

Immediately he crawls over to you, a complete and utter lack of hesitation as his hands find you, one moving to the nape of your neck and the other to your hip.

As his lips crash into yours, he’s demanding, ravenous. His tongue roughly works its way into your mouth, exploring it like his first taste of water after hours on the court, like he’ll never get to kiss you again.

Pulling away, you smile, eyes covering the two men seated in front of you. “Okay, c’mere,” you grin as you seat yourself at the end of their pushed-together twin beds.

“W-which one of us?” Geto asks.

As the words hit the air, Gojo is already moving, plopping himself down at the edge of the bed as he looks at you expectantly. Blinking at his friend’s sudden motion, Suguru follows quickly, seating himself on your other side.

Your eyes meet Gojo’s, a hint of mischief behind the cerulean, before turning to Geto, hesitation and nervousness spread across his features. Might as well make this interesting.

Shifting your body into Suguru’s, his eyelashes flutter closed as your lips meet his again. Grabbing at his shirt, you tug him closer.

“Loosen up,” you murmur into his mouth as your hands travel over his body.

Behind you, Gojo’s envy gets the best of him as he reaches around your torso. Placing open-mouth kisses along your neck, his palms travel over your chest, groping at your tits through your bra. He melds into you from behind as a moan escapes your throat, the warmth of their bodies blanketing you. Geto begins moving his arms, grabbing at any inch of your skin he can find. Before you realize it, your clothes are discarded, the boys’ shirts lost to the depths of the dirtied hotel room. Skilled fingers trace the curves of your body, tingles of electricity left in their wake.

Gojo chuckles behind you as his hands find their way between your legs, fingertips tracing your clothed cunt, sending a shiver up your spine.

“A bit eager, are we?” he teases, pulling your soaked panties to the side.

Any insults you began to form die in your throat as his long fingers enter you, a choked, “fuck” the only thing you can get out in response. His fingertips prod at your gummy walls, finding the spot that has you rocking your hips forward, grinding yourself onto him. Your moans echo into Geto’s mouth as you chase your release.

Right as you feel the heat inside you threatening to overflow, Gojo’s motions still.

“W-why’d you stop?” you practically whine, finally breaking away from your kiss with Suguru to face him over your shoulder.

That annoying smirk is plastered on Satoru’s face as he leans forward, his hot breath tickling your skin as his lips brush against yours.

“That was me giving, now it’s my turn to take.”

Gojo’s arms reach around you to push Geto back onto the bed, your body still trapped between the two as you catch yourself on all fours. The dark-haired man looks up at you, stunned into silence as his hands rest tentatively on your hips. You gasp as Satoru suddenly pulls your panties down, the cool air hitting your heat.

Your gaze lands on Suguru’s, your eyes wide before you feel the pressure of Gojo’s cock pressing against your entrance from behind you. Your jaw slacks as your eyes roll back, the stretch of him overcoming your senses as he slides in inch by inch. Geto takes the opportunity to latch his lips to yours, imprecisely sucking against your soft skin.

Satoru’s moans fill the space as he bottoms out inside you. “Fuuuuuck, y’feel so good,” he groans, his pelvis resting against your ass.

As he pulls his hips away, his tip barely kissing your folds, his rough fingertips are suddenly felt against your clit. He imprecisely circles the sensitive bud as he thrusts back into you. In unison, you and Geto moan into each other through the kiss.

“Keep strokin’ me, jus’ like that, mmm,” Suguru hums from beneath you.

Fighting against the haze of your ecstasy as Gojo continues rolling his hips into you, you manage to focus your gaze downward, finding Satoru’s free hand wrapped around Suguru’s cock, precum smearing as he pumps his length.

“S’not - ah - me,” you manage to get out through Gojo’s increasingly rough thrusts.

Geto’s eyelids flit open, landing on Gojo’s over your shoulder. As soon as the two make eye contact, Satoru squeezes Suguru slightly harder as his thumb circles his tip, forcing his eyes back into his skull as his hips thrust desperately into his friend’s first.

Satoru chuckles from behind you as he begins to kiss up your spine, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His teeth nibble at your skin, the slight pain making your back arch further, letting his cock reach impossibly deeper inside you. From the new angle, he hits the same spot he proudly found moments prior.

“R-right there, Gojo, fuck,” you moan, your hands tightly gripping the sheets to stabilize yourself against the weight of his body on top of you.

From beneath you, Geto’s cock twitches in Gojo’s palm as he weakly breathes, “Call him Satoru.”

“Mhm, y’know me so well, Sugu,” Satoru purrs.

His thrusts are unrelenting, imprecise, needy. He’s working purely off instinct and lust as he pumps in and out of you.

“Satoru,” you whine, his motions pulling you closer and closer to your release.

“Y’gonna cum?” he breathes into your neck.

You would roll your eyes at the fact that you can practically hear his smirk through his words before a particularly deep thrust pulls a choked “a-ah mmm” from you.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Gojo chuckles. “Me too, baby, me too.”

His tip repeatedly prods against your sweet spot as his thumb picks up its pace against your clit.

“Hey, Suguru,” the man thrusting into you purrs, “tell me, does she look pretty when she creams all over my cock?”

Geto’s eyes flicker open, his gaze hazy as Satoru continues palming his shaft. Suddenly, your vision goes blind in ecstasy. Broken cries escape your throat as Gojo’s cock twitches inside you, painting your insides white, his hips never stilling as he fucks you through your high.

As you come down, Suguru’s words pull you back to reality. “Yeah,” he breathes from below you, “she looks real pretty.”

“Aww,” Gojo fake whines, “well that’s no fair.” He pulls out, his cum threatening to trickle down your thighs as he removes himself from Geto’s cock to grab the man’s hand. Pulling him up, he spins you around so Suguru is seated with you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. “Now I wanna see her cum while you fuck her, Suguru,” Gojo hums.

With that, the white-haired man kneels before you, one palm resting on your thigh as his fingers spread open your folds. He slowly rubs the mix of your shared essence over your puffy cunt, his eyes full of awe.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Turning his attention back to you and Geto, he smirks. “You’re gonna love fucking it, Sugu.”

Finally taking his initiative, Geto lifts you up slightly, just enough to allow his hardened cock to press against your needy hole. Slowly sinking down on his length, another shaky groan vibrates your throat as he stretches you, a searing pleasure against your walls as he fucks Gojo’s cum back into you.

“S-shit,” Suguru mutters, “feels s’good.”

His hands return to your hips, guiding you forward as you grind against him. He’s slow, methodical, in the way he fucks you, a certain precision to his motions.

“Just like that,” Gojo hums from beneath you, “y’look so perfect.”

Your mind is too clouded to decipher if he’s speaking to you or Geto, and truthfully, you don’t care. You continue rocking yourself forward, Suguru’s cock stretching you so sinfully. He may not have Satoru’s length, but fuck, is he thick. Soft moans escape your lips as you lean your head back into Geto, who takes over where Gojo left off, pressing wet kisses over the skin of your neck. Suddenly, Satoru latches his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue circling your clit as he moans into you.

“Y’taste s’good,” he groans, continuing to lap at your folds, the mixture of his seed and your slick coating his chin.

One of your hands instinctively reaches to grab his hair, pulling him into you as the other holds onto the back of Geto’s neck, tethering you to reality.

Feeling the tug at his scalp, Satoru smirks into your skin. “That feel good, sweetheart?”

The moment you open your mouth to respond he sucks at your clit with a new ferocity, cutting your reply short as it transforms into a garbled moan of “y-ahh mhm.” Gojo chuckles beneath you at your incoherent response, his breath hot. So fucking smug.

Suguru lets out a breathy chuckle from behind you as he gradually picks up his pace. “You’re just - hah - flattering yourself, ‘Toru.”

Gojo smiles devilishly against you as he replaces his mouth with his thumb, rubbing unfocused circles into your bud. Lowering himself, he licks a languid stripe up the base of Geto’s cock from where he enters you before gently placing the man’s heavy balls into his mouth, sucking lightly.

Suguru’s motions stutter as he moans, his teeth biting into your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself from the buzz of pleasure that suddenly overcomes him at the new sensation.

“Seems like the flattery was warranted,” Gojo hums before his lips return to your clit, sucking softly as tension builds within your chest.

You can’t even tell where you begin and they end, the searing kisses along your neck, the sounds of your shared moans filling the space. Suguru’s hips grow increasingly desperate yet restrained, small thrusts into your cunt as Satoru’s tongue continues flicking over your core. Geto’s body remains stiff beneath you as you roll your hips against him.

“Let y’self go, Suguru,” you slur, your mind too fuzzy to process the words, only sensing the tension he holds.

Geto’s palms hesitantly grow greedier as he grips at your skin, allowing himself to chase his own high. His motions get rougher, thrusts deeper; he’s always felt that carnal part inside of him, the one labeled desire, yet he would never give into it. But something in your words, the heat of your body, breaks him free of his self-imposed cage.

His grip on your hips tightens as he holds you in place, fucking himself up into you. He’s grunting in effort, beads of sweat forming across his forehead as his fingertips dig into your skin. His motions are sloppy and rough, but so fucking good. Finally, he’s feeling it.

“Mm, I - ah - m’close,” you whine, his messy thrusts hitting every spot inside you so perfectly. The two men hum into you in acknowledgement, continuing their fervent motions.

Wet sounds of pleasure echo through the room as you get closer, until finally, the cord inside you snaps. Broken moans of their names leave your throat as you come undone, your walls fluttering around Suguru’s cock enough to send him over the edge with you. Throwing his head back, he allows himself to feel it all, take everything you’re willing to give him - as wave after wave crashes over him, his body shaking, he finally feels free.

“So, so pretty,” Gojo hums as his gaze darts between you and Suguru, watching you two be overtaken in euphoria, together.

Satoru’s tongue never slows as he messily laps at your essence, still kneeling between your legs. Your body feels electric as you come down from the height of your ecstasy, every nerve vibrating in pleasure. The mix of Gojo and Geto’s cum feels warm inside you as it slowly drips from your cunt. With a sly grin, Satoru collects the sticky mixture on his tongue, his eyes fluttering closed as he swallows. Without a word he rises from his knees, leaning over you.

Is he about to kiss you?

No, he can’t be.

He presses his chest into you as his palms cup Suguru’s jaw, the dark-haired man’s gaze unfocused as he watches his friend’s motions. Gojo’s blue eyes are nearly black from his blown pupils, Geto’s kiss-bruised lips parted as he pants. Silently, Satoru presses his lips to Suguru’s. Their tongues swirl against each other’s, their saliva mixing as the warmth of their bodies covers you, the heat of the kiss threatening to drown you as you’re pulled under, into the current of the moment.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Back.

Forth.

Back.

Forth.

The crack of the tennis ball echoes through the stadium, each hit adding to the culminating tension hanging in the air. Each stroke was like thunder, each step like lightning as Satoru and Suguru rally.

Gojo hits a forehand down the line, forcing Geto into his weak spot - one only he would know after years of playing together, one Suguru would never dare to exploit of his teammate. Geto falters, missing the shot; a soft gasp erupts through the crowd.

“Forty-love,” the announcer booms, “game point for Gojo.”

Satoru takes his place to serve, absentmindedly bouncing the ball against the court as he readies himself.

Loosen up, Suguru.

Tossing it into the air, he hits a perfectly placed shot, the spin forcing Geto off his feet unexpectedly as he chases the path. It wasn’t what he calculated - yet, you could see it in Gojo’s eyes; you could feel it.

Geto hits an off-balance return, struggling to regain his composure as he returns to center court. For a moment, you lock eyes with him.

Let yourself go, Suguru.

Satoru takes the opportunity, running up to pounce on the arcing, slow shot Suguru returned. He leaps into the air, his racquet held high.

But Geto senses something is off.

The slight smirk at the corner of Gojo’s lips, the glimmer behind his eyes.

If Geto were a betting man, he would run himself back to the opposite corner of the court, preparing to take Satoru’s signature high-speed smash that would win him the game. Yet, for a moment, Suguru lets himself feel it - that’s not the shot his opponent is about to take.

Instead, he rushes the net. The moment his feet plant onto the ground, Gojo’s racquet makes contact with the ball, the slicing motion sending it twisting the exact opposite direction Geto would have predicted as it spins through the air. Landing it exactly where Suguru stands.

Geto volleys, not allowing the ball to make contact with the ground as he sends it back to Satoru’s side behind him. Gojo knows he can’t get to the ball fast enough, and he doesn’t even try; instead, he stands in place where he landed from his last play.

A wide grin forms on Satoru’s face, one of admiration, pride. “Didn’t expect you to get that one, Suguru,” he gleams.

Turning around, Geto’s back faces his opponent as he returns to his place, ready for the next serve. “Your emotions gave you away, Satoru,” he purrs through a smirk.

As Gojo prepares himself to serve again, a new electricity crackles between them. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you watch them play, sweat glistening off their backs as they pour themselves into the game: the back and forth, the give and the take.

This is tennis.

277 notes · View notes

hopeluna · 15 hours

Text

Satoru's sure his heart is going to wrench itself away from his chest any moment now.

Today's run to his favourite bakery was supposed to be like any other. He had given his students a rare day off today. The air held a little humidity but was otherwise pleasant. The bakery owner's cat hissed at him and strolled over for pets as usual.

Everything was normal. It was normal up until he caught a glance of you from the corner of his eye.

Satoru almost gags at the sappy feeling bubbling in his stomach like acid. From what he can tell- it's clear that you are tired, maybe you are here on a break from work. But god, the light seeping in from the window seems to be soaking into your skin and making it glow. He can tell from the sluggish movement that you are sleepy, but you still offer a small, appreciative smile to the worker taking your order.

He only snaps his eyes away when the owner's cat, Mochi, starts bumping her head softly on his leg. Satoru takes his package of sweets and baked goods from the elderly owner, wondering about you.

Why has he never seen you here? Maybe you're new here? Because he's sure he would've noticed you before.

"Oh my god! Aren't you the cutest thing?"

Satoru's oh-so-charming smile at whoever called him falls as fast as it had appeared. You are beside him, crouching and petting at a purring Mochi. You. You are beside him.

Shit. Satoru internally cringes at how lightheaded he feels. You look even more beautiful from up close.

A car honks in the distant, as the sound of the bell above the bakery's door jingles with new customers coming in. Satoru's ears feel like they're stuffed with cotton. Everything is muffled. The growing sweat from his hand bleeds into the paper package of his sweets, making it soft. He faintly registers you cooing to Mochi about coming back here again for the sweets and her.

Satoru walks away then, with a giddy smile on his face like a lovesick teenage boy. He'll have to come back here too after returning from his mission in Shibuya.

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vernasce-blogs · 1 day

Text

poly stsg x Reader idea (for when I have time away from uni):

dom/top!Suguru who has his fingers deep inside your cunt while you’re tied up and he’s getting his cock sucked by bottom!Satoru

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jeankluv · 18 hours

Text

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 12

words: 5,2k

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

ac: _3aem

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

notes: long af chapter but full of things, everything I have to tell you is, trust me. Sorry if there are any typos, I think there aren’t any but let me know so I can correct them.

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As you looked at your result on your phone and then at Satoru's, confirming that you had both achieved the same perfect score, a feeling of relief washed over you. The bet had ended in a tie.

Leaning back in your seat, you couldn't help but make a small pout with your lips. You looked at Satoru, who was engrossed in the screen of his own phone, the nervousness that had disappeared took over you again.

The adrenaline of the exam results had momentarily pushed aside the weight of the conversation you were supposed to have with him that day. But now, as the reality of the situation returned to your consciousness, a knot formed in your stomach and heat rose to your cheeks.

As you cleared your throat and sat up straight in your chair, the weight of the conversation fell on you, you couldn't help but feel a surge of nerves coursing through your veins.

“Satoru…” You whispered nervously, turning to look at him. "After class, we should talk."

He turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, and he responded quietly. "Sure.”

You met his gaze briefly before quickly looking away from him, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. How was it possible that you didn't feel even a hint of nervousness? Was it possible that he had forgotten what happened Saturday night?

But even as you considered the possibility, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. What if the whole movie you were playing in your head ended up being real? It couldn't be like that, right? Satoru was probably holding it together, but inside he was just as nervous as you. Right?

As the lecture began, your mind drifted between the professor talking and the conversation you needed to hold with Satoru. You could not focus as your mind kept on circling back to the events that occurred in the club and outside of it. Parts of your mind were still confused as if a mist had taken over but other parts were as clear as a sunny day.

And with the time passing, your anticipation only grew bigger. You could feel the knot of nerves on your stomach as if you were about to throw up at any moment.

You stole glances towards Satoru, trying to read him. But it seemed he was completely calm and relaxed.

When the professor gave his farewell you knew the moment arrived. You didn’t move from your chair, as you watched students getting out of the class. You glanced at Satoru, who this time was also looking back at you.

Your nerves only grew bigger as you focused on his gaze. Taking a deep breath to steady those nerves that were inside of you and you spoke.

“Satoru.” You began, feeling how your voice was shaking just by saying his name. “Can we talk?”

He nodded, his expression being soft which made you feel relaxed. You got up from the chair and started walking out, you didn’t want to have that conversation in the middle of a classroom. Satoru followed you in silence. With each step taken, you could feel the air growing heavier

When you finally arrived at a more intimate place, you looked at Satoru. “Satoru…”

“Did you rest well?” He cut you.

“Huh?” You said, confused. “Oh! You mean because of the hangover?” Satoru nodded. “Yeah, yeah I… I sleep well.”

“Good, I’m glad. You looked tired.” He said with a faint smile.

“Satoru, I don’t remember much about what happened.” You began, feeling your heart racing. “Only pieces… but I…” How could you continue?

“It’s okay birdie.” He assured you.

“No wait!” You stopped him. “I remember something clearly.” You pointed out. “During the 20 questions I asked you, how many shots do you need to kiss me.” Looking at him you took a deep breath. “And you told me to ask you again once we were sober. So I’m asking you again, Satoru. How many shots do you need to kiss me?”

Satoru took a step forward, closing the distance between you. “And I told you that my answer would remain the same, didn't I?” You nodded, feeling your cheeks redden. “I don't need any fucking drop of alcohol to want to kiss you birdie.” He whispered to you. “We didn't finish the game and it was my turn to ask.” He smiled. “Tell me birdie, how many drinks would you need to kiss me?”

Your gaze was upward due to your height difference, first you looked at those blue eyes, which looked at you with such intensity and then, then you looked at his lips. “None.” You whispered, feeling how Satoru was leaning towards you and your breaths began to mix due to the closeness between you.

“Say it, birdie.” He whispered in your mouth. “And I will...”

Without letting him finish the sentence you pulled him towards you and trapped your lips with his.

As your lips met an electric shock went through your hold body, a surge of serotonin flooded through and your heart started to race. Feeling how Satoru began to kiss you back only made those feelings increase.

You felt as the time stopped moving and as the world started to fade away. It was just the two of you at that moment. No one else.

You were grateful for having come to that place away from curious glances and possible whispers, there were only you and Satoru.

Satoru grabbed your face and deepened the kiss, causing you to feel a thousand butterflies flutter in your stomach. It seemed to be true that Satoru Gojo was perfect in everything he did.

Breaking the kiss but not separating from you yet, Satoru left a few more kisses on your lips and the corner of them. You were almost breathless but exhilarating, your eyes looked up, finding Satoru’s gaze looking down at you. Like always.

Rarely did you feel as ashamed as that moment, you wanted to run away and hide from that penetrating gaze.

“Birdie…” He whispered.

You hummed still shy after the kiss. “Satoru…” You looked down and played with your hands. “Do you…”

“I like you birdie. I have for quite some time.” You felt like your breath was cut off and your heart forgot how to beat.

Feeling like a teenager again, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by a rush of emotions as Satoru's heartfelt confession washed over you. Despite your attempts to hide your embarrassment, Satoru gently took your face in his hands, urging you to look into his eyes.

Your cheeks burned a deep shade of red, and you couldn't help but feel self-conscious under Satoru's intense gaze. You were sure you looked completely ridiculous with your cheeks flushed and lips possibly swollen from the kiss you had shared.

With a shy smile, you allowed yourself to meet Satoru's gaze. "I like you too." You whispered, in that instant, you felt a sense of release, as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. “But now I must look ridiculous.” You said with a small pout.

Satoru leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, you closed your eyes, savoring the tenderness of the moment. “Maybe, but you also look fucking adorable.” He smiled, as he caressed your cheek. “Who would have told me, you could be so adorable.” He said in a mocking tone.

You rolled your eyes and stepped away slightly. "Idiot." You muttered.

“I'm the idiot you want.” He said pulling you closer to him.

“I guess you are.” A slight smile appeared on your lips. “About the bet?”

“Oh right…” He said still holding you.

“I think…” You bite your lip, not used to this kind of stuff. “We could still go out on a date.” You felt your whole face burning up with intensity as those words slipped out of your mouth.

“Why are you so embarrassed?” Satoru mocked.

“Ugh shut up.” You tried to free yourself from him, but it was impossible, he was stronger than you and he was holding tightly to you, as if he was afraid of losing you.

“Okay princess then I will take you out on a date.” He smiled.

Ugh you liked that smile so much.

“I have class.” You stepped away from his touch and you swore that Satoru looked like small puppy that just got abandoned. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“But you are leaving…” He pouted.

“Oh my god.” You turned your head. “Satoru, don’t do that!”

“Why? Does it make you nervous?” You felt him on your back. “But it’s the truth I will feel sad.”

“I can’t believe how clingy you are.” You looked at him. “It’s terrifying.”

“Only for you babe.” He said in a mockery tone. “You know I’m kidding right?” He held your hand.

“I don’t know anymore. But for real, I need to leave.” You looked at your hands.

“Okay…” He tilts his face until he is at your height and places a soft kiss on your lips. Closing your eyes you enjoyed the soft touch of her lips touching yours. “I will pick you up after work, birdie.”

As you nodded and let go of his hand, you walked away, still feeling the beat of your nervous heart pounding in your veins. When you arrived that morning, you hadn't imagined the conversation would take this turn, but your turbulent impulses and emotions had proven difficult to contain.

Now as you walked through the halls you couldn't help but smile as you remembered what you had experienced with Satoru just a few minutes ago.

Your heart was completely filled with joy and satisfaction, you had had enough courage to say and do what you felt, after having spent weeks repressing those feelings that threatened to come out at any moment.

Walking into your next classroom, you tried to hide your happiness but as soon as Kyoko saw you, she already knew something had happened.

“You are shining.” She commented as soon as you sat down. “Then tell me, what happened?”

Unable to contain your smile, you told him. "We kissed."

Kyoko's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across her face as she leaned closer. "My God, really?" She exclaimed, her enthusiasm was contagious. "Tell me everything!"

Satoru Gojo POV

Satoru felt as if he were floating on a cloud. In that moment, he believed he could accomplish anything.

When he arrived at class that morning, he anticipated that you might not recall the events from before. After all, you hadn't reached out to him, and he hadn't heard from you all day yesterday. So, when he saw you in your usual spot, he experienced a peculiar sensation twist within him.

Typically, Satoru was someone who remained composed. He consistently excelled in his presentations and eagerly volunteered to read out loud as a child without any difficulty. Even when it came to matters of the heart, he remained unfazed. His heartbeat remained steady, and nervousness rarely crept in.

However, when it was about you, his world turned upside down, and he felt as though he were losing his grip on reality. The pulses in his veins quickened, and his heart pounded so fiercely in his chest that he could hear it reverberating in his ears.

So when you looked at him that morning with that certain gaze and asked to speak with him, Satoru felt as though he might lose his footing.

Satoru felt a feeling of joy invade his body as he remembered the kiss, kisses you had shared a few minutes ago. He could really die in peace.

“He already completely lost his mind.”

"Seems like it"

“Satoru, are you okay?”

Satoru was still in his world, although he had arrived at the table where his friends were, his mind was much further away.

“Satoru!” Suguru snapped his fingers in front of Satoru's face, causing him to shake his head and return to reality.

“Oh Suguru…” He responded surprised.

“You were completely lost.” Shoko spoke this time.

“Maybe…” A little smile escaped his lips.

“My God, you really look terrible.” Utahime looked at him with wide eyes.

“What can I say my dear Utahime, love makes you crazy.”

Utahime rolled her eyes and stood up. “If I stay one more minute I might throw up.” She took her bag and turned to look at Shoko. “I will call you later.” She kissed her lips.

“Okay.” She waved goodbye at her. The three friends watched as Utahime exited the place. “So what? Now the three of us are with partners?”

“I mean…” Satoru scratched his head. “I haven't officially asked birdie out, but we've kissed and confessed.” He smiled.

“For real?” Suguru asked to which Satoru nodded. “That’s good man, now I can finally rest and stop listening to you saying how much you like her, you can tell her all of it.”

“You need to ask her official or else she might get wrong ideas.” Satoru nodded. “You are my friend but you know the rumors that go around about you…”

“And you both know they are not true.”

“Yeah but she might think they are not if you take too long to ask her out.”

“We are going on a date soon, I have everything planned.” Satoru stretched out in his chair with a wide smile.

Suguru put his tea cup on the table and looked at him strangely. “You don't have the charity gala soon?”

Satoru shrugged in his seat remembering the quote. “Yes… but I wasn't planning to go.” Shoko and Suguru looked at each other and then at his friend. “Don't look at me like that, what else can they do to me? The truth is I don't care, I prefer to spend my free time with her, not in a place where they hate me.”

“Satoru…” Suguru whispered.

“Are you going with Utahime?” He changed the direction of the conversation to Shoko.

“I would like to but Utahime hasn't told her parents about us yet and it would be quite scandalous if we both showed up.”

“I understand…” The white hair whispered, looking down.

The idea of taking you to the charity party had crossed his mind, but when he remembered how cruel his parents or simply anyone else who might be present could be, he discarded the idea. Satoru didn't want to expose you to those cruel people, who would probably look at you as if they were on a pedestal. When the reality was, they didn't reach the soles of your shoes and not even in a hundred lifetimes could they do so.

He wanted to protect you from his world as much as he could. Although he knew that eventually you should meet it, because his intention was for what you were forming not to be temporary. No. Satoru wanted to treasure you, he wanted to know you more deeply and get to know every little gesture, every little quirk, everything about you, the good and the bad. He didn't want it to last a few months, he wanted it to be long-lasting. But he knew that if you knew his world, where he came from and especially his parents, you would probably distance yourself from him and that caused his heart to shake with anguish and fear.

“Satoru…” He looked back up, facing his best friend. “Have you told her?” Satoru swallowed hard when he realized what Suguru meant. “You have to tell him or it will be worse.”

Shoko looked at both of them confused. "What are you all talking about?"

Suguru sighed when he saw that Satoru didn't say anything. “Satoru asked Haibara for a day off for her, without her knowing.” Satoru shifted in his seat. “He actually told Haibara that he would let him play the next game as a starter if he did.”

“Suguru shut up.” Satoru muttered, knowing that what he had done was wrong.

"You did that?" Shoko exclaimed, stunned. “Satoru, you can't go and do that, it's her job and she should be the one to ask for days off if she wants it.”

“Ugh!” Satoru scratched his head. “I already know that I fuck it, alright? At that moment I thought it would be good. But I will talk to her.”

He would, that night when he came to pick you up from work, you would talk to him. But the cloud of uncertainty hovered over his head thinking about the possibility that you would find out before he told you. Haibara had promised him that he wouldn't do it, but knowing Haibara he would probably confess to you if you suspected anything.

Your POV

As you entered the store, a smile remained on your lips, a constant companion throughout the day. It felt strange, this new buoyancy, especially considering it was all because of a certain boy with white hair and blue eyes. Yet despite the strangeness of it all, you couldn't deny the warmth that filled you every time you thought of him. You liked him more than you wanted to admit, and that excited you.

Putting those thoughts aside, you walked around the store and caught a glimpse of Haibara serving a customer with her usual calm attitude. Without disturbing him, you headed directly to the private room reserved for employees.

Closing the door behind you, you let out a sigh of relief, the tension in your shoulders dissipating as you sank into a chair. Alone in the quiet room, you let yourself a moment to reflect on the whirlwind of emotions. And a smile appeared on your face again just thinking about him.

“You seem happy today?” Haibara entered the room.

“Oh Haibara!” You said, a bit embarrassed. “Yeah kinda.” You chuckled trying to wash the embarrassment off you.

“Did you have fun on Saturday?” Haibara asked you while preparing himself to leave.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “But you didn’t go, why?” You tilted your head.

“I need to take care of some things here.” He looked away from you which was rare.

You looked at him confused. “I thought you told me we weren’t going to be open during the whole day?”

“Oh… did I?” He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding once again your gaze.

“Haibara… are you hiding something from me?” You asked him.

“No…” He grimaced. He was clearly lying.

“Haibara, tell me the truth. I won’t get mad.”

He sighed in defeat. “Captain Gojo asked me to give you the day off.”

As Haibara's words sunk in, a mix of frustration and disappointment washed over you. Realizing that Satoru had intervened without consulting you left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Thank you… for telling me Haibara.” You whispered, still trying to process his words.

“I’m sorry.” Haibara murmured.

You shook your head with a smile. “Don’t worry Haibara. But next time please, talk with me first.”

As Haibara nodded and left to attend to her duties, you found yourself alone behind the register, the weight of the day's events falling heavily on you. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of Satoru and his unexpected actions.

A peculiar need to cry overcame you and took you by surprise.

You didn't know how to feel about what Satoru had done for you. You felt like he had crossed a line by interfering in something as personal as your work. Nothing had happened, because it was Haibara and he was Satoru's friend, but for something like that you could have lost the only financial support you had.

With a shaky breath, you wiped away a stray tear. You didn't want to rush and get angry for no reason, but knowing your character that night when you saw Satoru, you didn't think you would be calm. And you needed to be, because you didn't want to ruin what you had started for something that you could talk about and solve.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

When you left the store and saw Satoru waiting for you, an avalanche of mixed emotions washed over you. Despite the pang of pain and anguish in your chest, seeing him there ignited a flash of warmth within you, a reminder of the depth of your feelings for him.

But beneath the surface, pain and betrayal simmered, threatening to boil over at any moment. The thought of him making decisions about your life without consulting you left a bitter taste in your mouth, a feeling of autonomy and agency that disappeared in an instant.

Taking a deep breath to calm your emotions, you approached Satoru, feeling the cold night air biting your cheeks. The temperature seemed to reflect the cold that had settled in your heart that night. A stark contrast to your feelings towards him, which were still as warm as they were that morning, when you kissed him.

With a heavy heart and a tightness in your chest, you force yourself to maintain a semblance of composure, knowing that lashing out in anger would only make things worse. But beneath the surface, a storm raged within you.

“Satoru.” Your voice came cold and you knew he noticed it.

“Birdie? You okay babe?” Feeling a mix of emotions stirring within you, you closed your eyes for a moment, allowing the weight of Satoru's new pet name to wash over you completely.

With your heart beating on your ears, you opened your eyes again and you looked into his eyes, seeing the anguish that had been established in his eyes. “Haibara told me…” You finally whispered, you watched as something in her eyes changed.

“Birdie, I…”

“Why did you do that?” You whispered with a sharply tone, you didn't want to get angry, but at that moment you felt like you were a volcano about to erupt.

Satoru looked at you in the eyes, slowly opening his mouth. “I thought it was a good idea…”

You huffed feeling like you were about to cry. “It’s not. You can not go to someone else's job and tell their boss to give them a free day…”

“But Haibara…”

“I don’t care, Gojo!” You didn’t want to shout, you didn’t want to say anything or else a lot of bad things could come out of your mouth.

“Birdie listen… you deserve to go to university parties and enjoy yourself, you have never gone to one.” You felt like crying and screaming.

“I already told you, didn’t I?” You crossed your arms in front of yourself. “Not everyone has parents that pay for their apartment, their car, their career. Some of us work our asses off.” You filled your lungs with fresh air and continued. “Haibara, it's your friend and maybe everything is fine, but this is crossing a lot of lines. I don’t care if you did this with the best of your intentions but…” You bite your lip. “I… it’s best if we talk about this in some other moment.” You whispered, giving a glance at him. “I don’t want to keep saying things I might regret.”

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered.

You turned around. “Bye Satoru…”

“Birdie…” But you didn’t look at him but he held your wrist. “Let me take you home, it’s late.”

You stopped walking and turned to him, accepting his invitation. It was late and you wanted to get home as soon as possible.

The car ride was shrouded in silence, not a single word escaping Satoru's lips. You found yourself unable to meet his eyes, a departure from your usual subtle glances in his direction. Instead, your eyes were fixed on the twinkling lights of the city, each of which seemed to radiate its own brilliance.

Despite the external focus, your mind was consumed with thoughts about recent events. A bitter taste lingered in your mouth and a persistent feeling of discomfort gnawed at your consciousness. A part of you questioned if your reaction was over the top, but deep down you knew it wasn't. Satoru had crossed a line and you couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal.

You couldn't help but wonder if Satoru would have acted the same if the situation involved someone else. The idea made you uneasy. It wasn't the thought of talking to Haibara that bothered you; it was the fact that Satoru had orchestrated it behind your back, as if he had the right to make decisions on your behalf.

As the car gradually slowed to a stop in front of Kyoko's house, you released your seatbelt and reached for the door handle, ready to exit.

“Birdie…” He whispered before you could get out of the car.

“I need to relax and think about it.” You said with the same tone. “

“I understand.” He said with tone that was full of sadness.

“We… we will talk about it, okay?” You glanced at him, he was looking down not facing you.

“Sure… no problem.” He looked up and your eyes connected, you could see the sadness in his eyes.

With a heavy heart you step outside. “I will call you.” He slowly nodded. “Thank you for taking me home.”

You opened the door to your house and shuffled to your room, your head hurt, your body hurt, your chest hurt. And you felt like at any moment you would burst into tears.

With your eyes closed, you felt the mattress sink next to you and someone caressed your arm gently. You didn't need anything else to know it was Kyoko.

As Kyoko settled in next to you on the bed, worry etched into her features, you couldn't help but feel the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

"Are you okay?" Her question only served to untangle the avalanche of emotions that had built up inside you.

With a heavy heart, you shook your head, unable to find the words to express the confusion within you. “No,” you whispered hoarsely, the words barely audible in the silence of the room. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just… I feel like people pity me and that’s why they are with me." You held back your tears. “There is a tiny part of me that thinks that Satoru only sees me as charity work and I feel terrible for thinking about it.” A rebellious tear fell through your cheek. “God I’m horrible…” You whispered.

The confession floated in the air, the truth of those thoughts that had been etched in your mind for a long time, weighed heavily on your chest. But before you could sink further into despair, Kyoko's voice broke the silence, full of sadness.

"Why do you think that?" She whispered, her eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern.

But before she could finish his sentence, you interrupted him, tears threatening to spill. “Kyoko… I’m sorry.” You said, your voice shaking.

Her response was immediate, wrapping you in a comforting hug. "People are not with you because they pity you. I’m not with you because of that." She whispered fiercely, her words a balm to your wounded soul. “You are my best friend, my confidant, my soulmate, my other half, my best part, a sister. So don't ever think that the reason we're friends is because you're some kind of charity or because I pity you. Because you are not and you never will be." She took a deep breath. “My parents adore you for who you are, Shoko adores you, hell even Yuki who you were only for a few moments with also adores you. Your coworker, Suguru also and I am sure that Satoru doesn’t view you like that. God damn it, that man is down on his knees for you.” She smiled. “And believe me, my boyfriend is so tired of listening to Satoru speaking about you all day.” You chuckled a little bit. “But now tell me, what happened?”

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you rested your head on Kyoko's legs and let yourself be caressed. "My job is one of the few things I have control of," you whispered, the words heavy with the weight of your frustration and hurt. "And Satoru going to my boss and asking him, without consulting me first, for me to get free days, just hurts me and annoys me."

Kyoko's touch remained tender as she listened to your words. With a soft stroke of your hair, she whispered. "And it's totally valid."

Your voice shook with uncertainty as you raised your gaze to meet Kyoko's eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or disbelief. "Do you think I'm exaggerating things?" Asked.

Kyoko's expression softened, her eyes filled with compassion as she reached out to gently caress your cheek. "No, of course not." She responded firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "Your feelings are valid and it's understandable that you're upset." She stroked your hair a bit more. “But tell me, since when have you been feeling like you are some type of charity work?” She asked you with sadness in her voice.

Your gaze shifted away from Kyoko’s. “I don’t know…” Your voice trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. “I guess it’s always been there.” You took a deep breath. “Especially since my mom died, people always looked at me with such a sad eyes and would whisper things like ‘look it’s the poor girl that was abandoned by her father and whose mother died, be nice to her’.”

You stopped trying to hold on to your emotions that were on fire and wanted to show up any moment.

“I felt that people came to me for that reason, because they felt sorry and they were only interested in being with me because they could go around saying 'look, I'm a friend of the poor orphan', hell I even heard those words on occasion.” You remembered.

Kyoko had her eyes fixed on you and you could see how each of your words was hurting her. “Babe…” She whispered. “You know it’s not like that right?” You didn’t know what to say. “It is not, we are friends with you because how amazing you are. And if I have to remind you every single day that, I will.”

“But I don't know, Kyoko, that someone like Satoru notices me, that likes me.” You sighed, trying to compose yourself, it seemed you were going to let go of many of the things you had been feeling and keeping. “He seems so inaccessible to me and at first when he kept bothering me, I believed it was to annoy me, then I started to believe it was because helping the poor scholarship student made him feel better and that's why he was with me. But when I see how he looked at me I want to hit myself, because I realize that it's the same way that Suguru does it to you and damn, I hate myself for feeling that way and I hate myself even more for having yelled at him and having gotten upset like I did with him.”

Kyoko slightly smiled at you. “I think you don’t just have a crush on Satoru.” You looked at her confused. “You are completely in love with him.”

Finals notes: so… 🙃

- comment if you want to be tagged

🏷️: @lavender-hvze , @crybabytoru , @sanriosatoru , @norvacaine , @sadmonke , @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic , @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun , @manyno , @ropickle , @lolsasuke , @milk3evee , crunchypotatoooooooooo , @catobsessedlady , @lolsasuke , @zoeyflower , @starlostwish , @tinydonkeysforlife , @mimisq11341 , @n1vi

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shxtodxroki · 1 day

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𝙰𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚃𝚘 𝚈𝚘𝚞

It had only been an hour since you had allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, your mind still drifting through a light sleep when a sudden intrusion broke through your drowsy, dreamy illusions and pushed you back into the pitch blackness laying behind your eyelids. For a single moment you’re annoyed, questioning why your sleep would be interrupted so late at night, when the intrusion makes itself known once more. A soft kiss to your temple is all your body can process in its sluggish state, but that one gesture is enough to ease any tension or annoyance within you as you relax back into the waiting embrace of the warm body that had just situated itself behind you.

“You’re home.” You mutter through your drowsiness, your voice soft and cracked as you manage to flutter your eyes open enough to look into his own. The ocean of blue you were met with felt easy to drown in, and the gentle look in those gorgeous eyes only brought you closer into his warm chest, as if his gaze were a magnet drawing you in.

“Sure am, baby.” Your husband whispers back, his signature grin spreading across his face as your exhausted eyes meet his, though there’s a clear softness in his expression that’s reserved solely for you. His chest is already bare, and it’s the perfect pillow as your head sinks into him and his arms cage you in their tight embrace.

“Mmm, missed you so much.” You reply softly, mustering up the energy to press a tender kiss to his jaw even as your eyes drift closed once more. The scent of your husband seeps back into the sheets and fills your nostrils, replacing the barely lingering remnants of it he had left behind before parting for his most recent mission. His arms feel warm and secure around your form, and the way his lips stretch into a loving grin in response to your gentle peck has you positively melting inside as your hand reaches up to brush a strand of soft white hair from his face.

“I missed you too, angel. I always miss you.” He responds with a small chuckle as one of his hands begins gently stroking up and down the expanse of your back, his fingers idly tracing shapes through the fabric of your shirt as he relishes in your company after being cruelly deprived of it for an entire week. Though he put on a brave face every time he has sent on a new mission, and he was never quite able to find the words to directly admit this to you out loud, each time he was forced to leave you felt like a devastating blow to his already fragile and damaged heart. You were his person, his only safe space where he could just embrace you and show you all of him, without having to meet the expectations and carry the weights the world placed onto him. The only person he had ever been able to trust with his grief, with his stress and with his heartache. Being ripped away from that safety so often while on missions was never a sensation he got used to, feeling the longing in his bones and a sense of emptiness in his heart each time he was sent off until he was finally able to return to you once more and balance returned to his world.

Thankfully, you knew how he felt without him needing to express those emotions verbally, and you’re always waiting to welcome him with open arms and make him feel whole again no matter how long he’s been gone for. And so he allows you to, and allows himself to melt into you as you cling tightly to him. Your lover is quick to settle into bed beside you as he presses kisses from your forehead down to your face and along the expanse of your neck.

“Sorry I was gone so long, gorgeous. I know you don’t do well without me.” He teases to mask his own relief, and you just let out a tired giggle in response as you can feel sleep tugging you back into it’s hold for the evening.

“S’okay, I can handle it—just as long as you always come back to me.” You whisper in response as you feel him press a few final kisses to your neck, before pulling back to allow you to snuggle into his chest for the evening. Neither of you have the energy to consider the weight of those words of yours, and so the promise that falls form Satoru’s lips is easy as he pulls your body tight against his and feels his own eyelids being weighed down with exhaustion.

“Of course, I’m the strongest after all. I’ll always come back to you.” He responds without a moment of hesitation, his hand coming up to cradle your head into his body as he hears your breathing even out, and the sound of you peacefully drifting off in his arms is enough for him to finally allow his own eyes to drift shut as he feels at ease once more for the first time all week.

A/N (SPOILERS FOR RECENT JJK LEAKS AHEAD, DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS):

Nobody requested this specifically lol but I’ve just been feeling so weird and sad since I saw the most recent leaks, this somehow feels even worse than when he was first killed and I’ve been moping all week about it so I figured I’d write some Satoru fluff since he deserves to be happy and loved and I just needed to give him something cute and sweet rn </3 Apologies if y’all see a lot more Gojo on here than usual in the coming days/weeks I’m just very distraught about everything he’s been put through and this is my way of dealing with the manga but if any of y’all feel the same way then I hope you enjoyed this too :> As always, requests are open on this blog so if y’all have any requests feel free to send them my way! :D

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osaemu · 7 months

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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ YES, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND YES, SHE'S REAL! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen for the first time?

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it.

author's note: everyone welcome streamer!gojo to the world! he'll be here for a while...

"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"

you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.

it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.

satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.

he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"

you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"

satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.

the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.

"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."

satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."

you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.

your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.

so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.

smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.

he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.

suguru-geto: haha i already knew

toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?

yuuji-itadori: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??

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satoruxx · 10 days

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you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

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gojonanami · 3 months

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❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FAKE DATE SATORU GOJO WITH REAL FEELINGS? ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is the same age as gojo, set during s1 of jjk, fake dating hijinks, drunk! gojo, jealous! reader + gojo, implied satosugu (sorta, i see it more in a soulmate way, whether its platonic or romantic), switch! gojo, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, naoya makes an appearance, gojo clan elders suck, gojo's made up clan responsibilities,

✧ wc: 16,043

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 6 has been sold to @chuluoyi and an anon!

“C’mon, you don’t know until you try, sweetheart,”

You run at your temples, you didn’t need to feel burgeoning ache of a headache forming to know it was coming — but you knew it would whenever you met with this blue eyed idiot, “Satoru, the last time you said that, you nearly got me killed,” you didn’t care to re-live him sending you on a mission meant for him to take a grade 1 one curse, only to end up fighting two other grade 2 curses along with it.

You were lucky you made it by the skin of your teeth — and lucky that Shoko woke up when you showed up at her door, half dead.

“And this time, there’s no risk of death,” he grins, stirring his sugary drink that counts more as sugar than a drink, “that shows great personal growth, don’t ya think?”

“I think this conversation shows that just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you have an ounce of common sense,” you mutter, as you sip at your drink of choice, “Gojo, I can’t marry you — for one, there would be a risk of death — yours,”

“Eh you wouldn’t be able to kill me — you’re far too—“ and you raise an eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence, “kind,”

You rolled your eyes, “One of the traits you’re looking for in your future partner?”

“The thing is, you wouldn’t have to marry me at all — it would be a big sham!” He said with a thumbs up, as if that made it any better at all, “just for a couple weeks so I can fool the Gojo Clan into complacency and to stop the search for my future spouse — you’d be sparing the hundreds, no thousands, of possible candidates from facing the burden of my rejection,”

“And I suppose the fact that the clan would get off your back is just a fringe benefit?” You sigh, “Gojo, why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to get married?”

“I’ve tried — but the stubborn old geezers won’t budge — I’m caught between a rock and a hard place — and you know me,” his lips curl, “I’m a lover, not a fighter,”

Yup, you have a headache now.

“What would we have to do to convince them we were together?”

Why were you considering this?

“Dates, a few public outings, meeting the geezers because they would insist, and you would need to show your face around the clan compound,” he lists off, sipping at his drink, “there may be other things, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” You may jump off a bridge by the time this is over and done with, “what do you say?”

“I have two questions,” and he leaned back in his chair, back and forth, impatience personified, “how long would we have to do it?” You didn’t want to be stuck in this arrangement for an undisclosed amount of time, but the second question was far more important, “ And why me?”

“Three months, maybe longer,” you gape at him, “I can pay you?” you raise an eyebrow, “I will pay you,” you sigh, “and choosing you was easy because—“

“If you make some sort of joke about me being single, I don’t care if you have infinity, I’ll find a way to murder you,” you grumble.

“Because you’re a sorcerer, you’re from a minor clan — so you’re an acceptable choice, and I trust you — you’re one of my closest friends,” he adds, for once his words are deprived of any humor.

And that answer was…almost worse than the joke. The word “friend” stuck in your side like a thorn you could never pull out, festering and growing until it had become a part of you — that ached only when you thought of it.

Your feelings for him, they were still there? You thought you had discarded them years ago, thought it was safe for you to move back to Tokyo from Kyoto, thought you had finally left that childhood crush behind — dead and buried — but here it was, still stubbornly clinging to life.

And now it would thrive with new roots, stems, leaves, and buds if you agreed to this.

He said your name, “Well?”

He remains as inscrutable as always, But you could never say no to him, could you? “Okay, fine,” it would also help you out in the form of another problem of Naoya Zenin who had been nothing but persistent since you came back…but you didn’t want to dwell on that. Your eyes find Gojo’s again — as they always did.

It was why you had left for Kyoto in the first place.

“Is this really necessary?” you grumbled, as the servants that served the Gojo clan fussed over your clothes — it was a traditional kimono in the colors of your clan — a deep indigo, embroidered with white koi fish that swam along the fabric, embroidered with waves. You supposed you were only grateful that Gojo didn’t leave you to get dressed yourself.

Gojo watched as they adjusted the obi around your waist, and your eyes remained fixed ahead, but your gaze couldn’t help but wander to him. Satoru Gojo was always unfairly gorgeous — there was a reason people fawned over him even when he had just rolled out of bed without even a once over at his appearance — but those same people probably would have passed out if they saw him as he was now.

His formal wear was a sky blue — the same as his eyes, a coat draped over his shoulders and loose trousers of snow white that was a nod to hair of the same color. His hair remained unkempt as it always was.

“Gonna change into that but not comb your hair?” You remark, and he smirks, running a hand through his hair.

“Well I think if I start being too well behaved, they’ll know it’s fake,” and the word sticks in your chest like a dagger between the ribs, as the servants finally finish with your clothes, and you sigh.

You straighten yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror, “How is it only been a couple hours and I’m already exhausted?”

“The suffocating grip of old geezers and their backwards traditions would do that to you,” but his eyes linger on you, “but lucky for you sweetheart, it seems to suit you,”

“Do you have to call me that?” You murmur, cheeks warming, as you pretend to busy yourself with adjusting your clothes in the mirror.

“You have to get used to it,” his footsteps draw closer, heart battering against your ribcage as he does — surely, it would break free of its bony cage by the end of this, as he slides a shiny pendant around your neck — a sliver infinity with a singular small blue gem glinting in the middle — “after all, you are mine now, aren’t you?”

“Gojo, this is—“

“Satoru,” he reminds you, as his fingers brush against your neck as he clasps the necklace, “how will it look if someone overhears you calling me by my last name in private?” And your fingers brush against the necklace, toying with the pendant as you positioned it properly, “do you like it? I had it made especially,”

Especially — the lack of ‘for you,’ stuck out to you, as you force a smile on your lips, “it’s perfect — it will definitely sell the act,” and your eyes can’t find his as he adjusts his sunglasses, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your blindfold,” you turn to face him, “doesn’t it drain you not to wear it?”

“I can wear sunglasses sometimes — usually I get strange looks if I wear a blindfold in normal society — and here,” he pulls off the glasses as his cerulean irises seem to pierce your very form, “it reminds these old men who holds the cards here,” it was already hard enough for you to meet Gojo’s gaze as it was, it always felt as if he could stare right through you — and now, it felt as it your entire soul was beholden to him, “and as a bonus,” he draws close again, as he holds out his hand for your own. You resist the urge to bite your lip, inside giving your hand as he wished, and he lifts to his lips, before tilting his head to press the back of his hand to your cheek, “now I can look at my beautiful girlfriend unobstructed by these pesky eye coverings,”

You scoff, “You always have something to say, don’t you?” As you try and fail to move your hand away, “Gojo—“

“A good escort should never let their lady walk in without their hand being held, don’t you think?” And you sigh, as he leads you out of the frying pan and into the fire — you only hoped you wouldn’t be burned — your eyes sliding to Gojo again, fingers toying with the fabric over your chest — in more than one way.

“So you’ve gotten yourself a partner, eh, boy?” the elderly man sits with his eyes closed as he sips his tea, steam rolling off the surface in droves, but he seemed unbothered by the heat — perhaps because of the steam coming out of his ears, “I’m shocked,” you kept your gaze down, only had greeting him upon entering — stating your name and clan, before kneeling beside Satoru on a cushion.

“Shocked that someone like me could ever find my match? I know I’m truly one of a kind,” lips curled in that smirk that seemed to annoy almost everyone Satoru Gojo knew — including you — but no one showed the level of irritation that this man showed.

Gojo may be the head of the Gojo clan — but you supposed there were still people he had to answer too, if only due to age and tradition — the two very things Gojo hated the most.

“Why bother respecting those for aging when they haven’t done anything for me to respect?” he had said flippantly to Yaga one day during a lesson, “I rather die young than live to the age of these old coots without accomplishing a damn thing,” and then Yaga firmly smacked Gojo on the head right after, for disrespecting Gakuganji during the sister school exchange event.

And you had a feeling this meeting was about to go as well as that class did.

“Is this serious? Have you proposed?” and you have to keep a straight face, but your cheeks burn.

“Now, don’t embarrass me and my girlfriend,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “but this is serious — she’s the only woman I want to marry — and I’ll do anything to accomplish that,” he leans forward with a smile, squeezing your hand, “because I love her, and I only will ever love her,”

His gaze slides from Gojo to you, eyes boring into your skull, “and do you feel the same?”

You never have been one for lying — lying was an uncomfortable feeling that twisted and turned in your stomach like questionable leftovers that you took a gamble on eating, ones that wanted to come out the same way it went in. But you had learned with time because sometimes it was necessary for a sorcerer to lie, and when it was between telling a lie or dying, you’re forced to become quite adept at things you hate.

And you had learned, as you meet his hardened look, the best lies had some truth ingrained in them.

“I do, Satoru and I went to Jujutsu Tech together, and he’s the only man I ever loved,” perhaps it was too much truth, as you forced your voice to be steady, “he’s frustrating, irritating, full of himself—“

“You don’t have to be that honest—“ Satoru grumbled.

“But he’s also selfless, unendingly kind, a great teacher, and a good person, maybe even the best person I know,” you can’t bear to look at Satoru, “and he’s the only man I want to call my husband,”

The silence lingers in the room for a moment before the old man grunts, “I’ll believe it when I see it,”

“What kind of answer was that?” You asked as Satoru walked you back to the room, his fingers still laced with yours.

“It means we have to make him believe it — but he’ll at least stop arranging these meetings for me with prospectives,”

You raise an eyebrow, “and what will make him believe it?”

He smirks, as he tugs you a little closer, fingers under your chin, “I could kiss you right now, might sell the act,”

“No one can see us,”

“Someone’s always watching,” he murmurs, leaning far too close as your breath catches, eyes widening before they flutter shut and you wait. But instead his lips brush your forehead, followed by a flick, “gotcha,”

Your eyes snap open in a glare, “Gojo!” And he’s cackling.

“Satoru,” he corrects, as his hand leaves yours as he opens the sliding door to the room, “you coming?”

You pout, rubbing your forehead, as you brush past him — this was going to be a long few weeks.

“Why do I even have to go to this?” You were being led through a bustling mall, his arm around your waist, as if to prevent you from escaping (good idea). Your lips twisted in a grimace, you allowed him to drag you along, knowing him, he would carry you over his shoulder without a hint of shame (you don’t think he even contained the word shame in his own vernacular), “can’t you go and wear a ring and go by yourself?”

“A ring is not as good as having you on my arm now is it?” he bumps you with his hip, “plus, we’re not engaged yet, unless this is a proposal,” he raises an eyebrow, and your cheeks burn.

“Shut up, I’d never propose to you,” he laughs, but it’s almost strained.

“Never propose to me like that right? Because I deserve a better proposal than that,” he sighs, leading you into a store, “come on, we have to find you a nice outfit for the wedding,”

You glance at the store, your jaw dropping, “Gojo, this store is so expensive, I can’t afford this—“

He lowers his sunglasses just to show you that he’s rolling his eyes, “Who said you’re paying, Princess?” You stare at him, slack jawed, while a salesperson comes up to the two of you — though she’s clearly only interested in one of you.

“Hi, what can I help you with finding today?” her lips curled in a smile, as she twirled a strand of her around her fingers, “I’d be more than happy to assist you,” her gaze completely fixed on Gojo, without the slightest hint of acknowledgment for you to spare.

You bite back a scowl, plastering on a fake smile, as you lean into Gojo, “My boyfriend is looking to buy me an outfit for a wedding we’re attending — baby, could you tell her what style you want me to wear?”

Gojo glances at you, a flicker of surprise that is quickly covered up by a smirk, his arm tightening around your waist, “Yes, I have to make sure my sweetheart is looking her best — so can you please find these styles of dresses for me?” You can’t help the smile on your lips as the salesperson shuffles away, lips a thin line rather than the grin she once had.

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Gojo chuckles, and you roll your eyes, hoping your expression didn’t give your heart away, the feelings you had stuffed into a crevice of your chest that threatened to burst.

So you choose to turn it on him instead, as you meet his gaze with a small smirk, “I don’t like people taking what’s mine,”

But he only takes it in stride, only as Gojo can, “I’m yours, huh?”

You shrug, choosing to hurt yourself rather than let him do it, “at least for the next two to three months,” and your gaze snaps away and looks to the saleswoman as she comes back with a selection, “if you get to choose my dress, I get to choose a suit for you, deal?”

Gojo raises an eyebrow, but smiles, “Anything for you, princess.”

“You just wanted to see me model for you, didn’t you?” Gojo emerges from the changing room in a black button down and white suit coat with a matching white tie — as he tilts his head, “I would say my best suit is my birthday suit,” and you grimace, “oh c’mon, it was a good joke, although—“

“Don’t say it’s true,” you lean back, phone in hand as you snap a picture as you did for the last three, “I love to see that self confidence of yours has grown into full blown arrogance,”

“How can I not be arrogant when I see you snapping pictures of me?” He crosses his arms, the fabric taut and straining over his chest, the top button undone, showing off the adam’s apple that bobs in his throat, “it’s definitely a step up from when you ignored me,”

You snap from your thoughts, “When did I ignore you?”

“When we graduated Jujutsu Tech, you’d spend time with Nanami or spend a weekend with Shoko, but whenever I was around, you wouldn’t even reply to a text,” your eyes fall to the floor, chewing your lip, “it wasn’t always like that — I thought we were close,”

It was true — but it wasn’t because you hated him. It was the opposite. You had tried to be his friend, but the more you were his friend, the more it hurt — hurt to see him smile at you like everyone else, hurt to see him with his eyes on the one he wanted, and with his arm around Suguru.

And you really didn’t hate Suguru — it was the opposite really — you thought they were perfect, a person who grounded him, made him a better person, and with a much tighter grip on reality than Gojo did — perhaps too tight. Too tight that it shattered apart in his hands, the pieces too far gone to pick out — and too far gone to save him.

You tried to be there for him — knock on his door when you knew he was home and force him to shower while you and Shoko cleaned up his room. You stayed even when Shoko had long left, holding his hand as he hid his tears from you with his back turned, and you didn’t admit you could hear his nearly silent tears. But eventually, it turned into movie nights, meals shared, and even grocery runs.

And it became harder and harder to hide how you felt — each minute spent with him was another drop in a bucket that was already overflowing to begin with. At first it had been a crush — an unattainable crush that you were happy to leave at just that. But eventually, it became so much more — you had fallen in love with him, when you really shouldn’t have. Because he didn’t need a partner — he needed a friend.

“Gojo, I didn’t ignore you—“

“I’ve called you sweetheart, did your number change and then magically change back when you came back to Tokyo?”

But once he had pulled himself together, you were graduating and you requested to be put in Kyoto — your excuse being you were tired being in the city — but to Satoru, you gave no excuse, you quietly left without a word. Because you were really tired of having your heart broken — so you needed space, and you were willing to do anything to get it.

“Gojo, I didn’t really talk much to Nanami or Shoko when I left either, I just needed space—“

“Space from what?” You sighed, parting your lips when his phone rings. He checks it before taking it, “another mission? Yeah, I can leave tonight,” you bit your lip, “send Ijichi to take me to the airport. Yeah, ok,” and he hangs up, “we’ll have to cut this short. I have to go overseas,”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Probably just a few days. I’ll be back soon,” you bite your lip, and he tilts his head, “you worried about me, Princess?”

You flush, opening and closing your mouth, “I am,” and he blinks, seemingly surprised, “come back safe. Text me to let me know when you land,”

His lips curl, as he ruffles your hair, “I will — and I’ll be back soon enough. Promise,” and he pauses, “you want a souvenir?”

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to,” he cuts you off, and your cheeks warm.

And just then, he gets a text, “Ijichi Is almost here. I’ll have him drop you back first,” and he turns to change out of his clothes.

“Satoru,” you catch him by the sleeve, and he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you after all of that. It had nothing to do with you, there was just a lot going on—“ he says your name, but you shake your head, “but it won’t happen again, I promise,”

“Good,” he steps back into the changing room, a grin on his lips, “I wouldn’t let you get away this time anyway, sweetheart.”

“Gojo?” You say again, and he tilts his head, “get the indigo suit,”

He grins, “and you have good taste, well, of course you do,” he holds the door open, “I am your boyfriend after all.”

And the door of the fitting room swings shut, and you hope he’s not looking at you, as your cheeks burn, your heart squeezing in spite of every thought of your mind telling not to go there — not to go down that road, but you should have known, the moment you said yes to this plan—

You were already there.

You had never known that the buzz of your phone could make you more happy — or anxious.

But it had been over the course of the last few days. Because you’re probably an idiot, but that wasn’t the point.

how bad of an idea would it be for me to try this Karanga and Chapati place that Yuta recommended?

You snorted, Satoru, the last time you had curry — that wasn’t even that spicy, you couldn’t taste anything for a week.

Another buzz, But Yuta said it’s not so bad

You roll your eyes, imagining the pout he undoubtedly has on his lips — Yuta has never seen you cry over a bowl of curry — stick with your desserts, and you chuckle as you add: you may be the strongest but you have the weakest taste buds

It takes some time for another response to come — and when it does, you realize a grave error on your part was made: never point out any flaw to this idiot because he will take it as a challenge.

This is Yuta — Gojo-sensei tried it and he’s now in the bathroom. He told me to tell you he’d text you later.

This was how the last few days flew by — texts with updates about his mission, his work, and his check-ins with Yuta. And the night before he was flying back, just as you were cooking dinner, he called you—

“Gojo? Isn’t it 2:00 AM there right now?”

“You learned the time difference for me?” you heard his words slur over the other line, “Sweethearttttt,” I went out with Yuta and Miguel, and I may have gotten a littttttle tipsy,”

“Isn’t it like 2:00 AM there?”

He clicks his tongue, “Miguel challenged me to a drinking contest,” and you groan, rubbing a hand down your face, “but they got me back into my hotel room, even though I’m not tired,” he mumbles, as you hear the crinkle of his bedsheets and the rustling of his comforter.

“Have you drank water? How much alcohol did you have?”

“Are you worried about me?” he giggles, before sighing, “I’m glad,”

“Why are you glad?” You hold the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you stir the pan with your dinner currently in it.

“Because it means you care about me,” he murmurs, “everyone who cares about me always leaves,” he gives a small bitter chuckle, “maybe it’s better for you not to care about me. It’s dangerous to care about someone like me — the type to die young or live far too long,”

“Gojo—“

“Satoru,” he mutters, voice growing thick with sleep, “call me Satoru,” and his soft snores fill your ear as he falls into the sandman’s grasp — a small reprieve from his feelings — while you were left to dwell in them.

All this time you had been thinking how you felt, what you were dealing with, what you wanted — and all these years and you hadn’t thought about how your actions made him felt. You thought he was beyond any hurt you could possibly inflict — his infinity meant that he was leagues above anywhere you could possibly reach — but it didn’t.

He wasn’t. He was a person — and when had you stopped treating him as one?

You texted Yuta: make sure your sensei is lying on his side and make him drink some water. And don’t let Miguel goad him into drinking ever again.

Yuta: got it. sorry about that sensei — gojo wouldn’t listen

You scoffed, chuckling at how Yuta called you sensei but did not afford Gojo the same courtesy.

You stayed on the phone with Gojo, hearing Yuta come in and persuading him to drink some water, before he fell back asleep, but even in his drunken state, he wouldn’t give up his phone — Yuta snapping a picture and sending it to you. You laughed when you saw it — loml with a dozen hearts and a picture of you in your obi, clearly taken when you weren’t looking, but it wasn’t those things that made you laugh — it was the way Gojo clung to his phone, fingers wrapped around it desperately, as he slept.

You stayed on the phone with him all night, even when you went to bed — of course just to make sure he’s fine — the call waking you when it disconnected after reaching the max call time. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the time — 5:00 AM. And almost like clockwork, your phone rings again, Gojo’s number flashing on your screen.

You pick up, “Mm, hello?” you yawn, “finally awake sleeping beauty?”

“Glad you finally decided to acknowledge my beauty,” his voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, and god, you can’t help but imagine waking to this voice every day — “ugh I have a headache,” he murmurs, the crumple you hear must be him burying his face in his pillow because the next question he asks is muffled, “why were we on the phone?”

“You called me last night after drinking, and refused to hang up after Yuta helped you get settled,” you chuckle, as you hear his groan over the phone, “I got a new contact picture for you out of it, love of my life,”

“Glad you’re finally on board,” he mutters, growing quiet, “why didn’t you hang up?”

You pause, “what do you mean?” You ask slowly.

“You could’ve hung up at any time, but you stayed on the phone, even when you fell asleep,” his voice was soft, “why?”

“I just,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t lie to him, at least not completely, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and you didn’t want to hang up — so I didn’t,”

He’s silent for a moment, and you almost wish you could sink into the Earth — but he only says, “okay, now what’s the plan for the day, Princess?”

Your lips curl, “Well my day has not really began yet since it’s 5:00 AM here, so I’m probably going to sleep for several hours and wake up at an hour that is not bereft of god,”

“You really couldn’t just say ‘ungodly?’” He snorts.

“Well, 5:00 AM makes me wax poetic, what can I say?” Another yawn parts your lips, “I’m going to sleep,”

But he doesn’t hang up, “I’ll be here, sweetheart.”

You glanced at the time, he’s late.

Well, he wouldn’t be Gojo if he didn’t make an entrance. You slumped on the couch — even if he was getting home from his mission, there was no guarantee he’d stop by your place to see you. He might want to just go home — or stop by Jujutsu Tech, or be anywhere else. You couldn’t have expectations — expectations were only a way to be disappointed, a drop from soaring that would only be met with the impact of the cold, unforgiving ground.

Especially expectations from a fake relationship. You lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling — why were being such an idiot about this? The TV drones on in the background, illuminating the dark of the living room, as you sit barely paying attention to a random rom com you had picked.

Maybe it was because Satoru had spent the rest of today on the phone with you, even through a security check (warning the security officers not to hang up his call) and at the gate. And then every day after that, he had called and texted you like clockwork — stupid things— good morning and good night, random memes that made him think of you, pictures of his day (including ones of him messing with his students), questions of what sweet you wanted from the shop he had decided to frequent, calls about your day and his own, and hours long conversations about nothing at all. Maybe because you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke to you — or maybe it was because you were just down bad.

It was probably the latter.

You take a throw pillow and pull it over your face. What were you thinking? Falling for your old crush and fake boyfriend a night before a wedding was a trope in a bad rom com that you spent your weekend night watching — it shouldn’t be how you feel.

“That’s a nice look,” you jump, pulling the pillow away, to be met with Gojo’s gaze hidden behind another pair of sunglasses, “honey, I’m home,”

You bite back your smile, “one, this isn’t your home, and two, how did you get inside?”

“It’s pretty easy when you can teleport, you should try it sometime,” he sits beside you, more like collapses as he falls into the couch, his head resting against the top, “although if someone moved in with me, it’d be much easier,” and you laugh.

“Shouldn’t you ask a girl out before you ask her to move in?” he shrugs, his arm resting across the top of the couch.

“I’m anything but traditional,” he sighs, glancing at the TV, “what are we watching?”

“A bad rom com,”

He snorts, “watching it to mercilessly pick it apart?” And you raise an eyebrow, “what? I did stay awake for some of those movies— it was some of my favorite memories during that time and some of the only times I could actually sleep,”

“Yeah, it was a nice way for both of us to turn our brains off for a bit,” you glanced at him, “thought it’d be nice for us too,” his gaze slides to you curiously, “I know there’s been a lot on your mind — with itadori and the special grades,”

He sighs, running fingers through his hair, “Yeah, old geezers seem to cause problems in all parts of my life,” you snort, “can’t believe they’d try to do away with Itadori while I was gone,”

“They don’t see anyone as innocent — they see whether you’re an asset or a threat, unfortunately, they see Itadori not as the former,” you shake your head, as your eyes stare at the movie flashing on the screen, but you don’t really watch, “they’re too far gone to see the innocence of children,”

“You sound like Kento,” and your eyes meet his, his cerulean gaze already on you, his sunglasses discarded on your coffee table.

“Funny, thought I sounded like you,” he blinks a moment, “Satoru, you’re all about preserving the youth of children — that’s why you saved Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji — even when you had every reason not to,”

“How could I not? Youth belongs to the young after all,” a wistful smile on his lips, “i don’t want the same to happen to them that happened to us,”

“To us,” you repeat, a sharp pain sticks between your ribs at the flash of Haibara’s smile and the whisper of Suguru’s laugh, “more like to them,”

“Yeah,” a silence falling over the two of you as the white noise of the TV filled the quiet, “but sometimes I think we went down along with them,”

You shake your head, “I think a part of us did — a part of us will stay there—“ frozen in time and seeping like poison in our bones, “but we’re still here,” you risk to toe the line you’d never cross, your fingers brushing his, “and it’s not over for us,”

And his eyes flicker to your fingers threaded with his, as his fingers squeeze yours slowly, the corner of his lips quirk upwards, as you stretch and sit up, fingers falling away from his, a yawn on your lips, “should we get some sleep?”

“Come on, let’s finish the movie,” he murmurs, even though sleep seems to weigh heavily on his body, eyelids fluttering shut as he turns to you, cheek pressed against the couch, “hey,” he murmurs, “it wasn’t the movies that let me relax,” and you can hear the unspoken meaning in those words — but that was the problem.

It was unspoken.

Your fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to brush your fingers against his cheek — but you can’t.

You’d allowed yourself to toe the line you’d long drawn in the sand that you’d built into a wall — you had even allowed yourself to stir a few bricks from its place, but you couldn’t cross it. Not now.

Your eyes are growing heavy. Maybe not ever.

Your neck hurts.

The first thought you have as you rouse into aching consciousness. Why was it so bright? Did you forget to draw your curtains? You draw an arm over your face, already dreading the waking hours, until you realize it’s your day off, and you sigh, relaxing into your bed.

Or what you thought was your bed.

Except your bed couldn’t move, nor could it pull you closer. But now something or someone was, an arm around your waist with movement behind you that made breath warm your ear. And you probably would have screamed, if you hadn’t heard the familiar voice whisper your name in your ear.

Gojo.

Gojo???

Your head slowly turned to be met with the strongest sorcerer very much passed out, half behind you, half on top of you — his blue eyes hidden under his eyelids for once instead of any covering that he used to protect himself. His snowy white locks brushed against your skin, the close proximity doing nothing to alleviate your feelings — you had only hoped you could see one flaw, one ick, and maybe you’d be done. But on Satoru Gojo? The man born to be perfect — the same one who sang karaoke for the first time as a teen only to be so incredible that it moved your server to tears?

You really should have fucking known better.

Your breath caught, and you wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment—if no one had, you would surely be the first case. You were always a trail blazer.

And you tried to shift again, if only to maneuver yourself out of this situation, but he moved along with you, seeking out the contact he was losing. And this only ended with him lying on top of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and his legs straddling one of your legs— and then you felt it — a very distinct bulge pressed against your thigh.

Fuck. Your. Life.

He mumbled in his sleep, nose brushing against the hollow of your neck, drawing another shiver from your body. You had a rare opportunity to touch him — didn’t you, no infinity between the two of you — just him and you. You were in a position probably many desired to be in — admirers and enemies alike (neither category being mutually exclusive). You supposed old habits die hard — and so did old crushes.

Could you let yourself enjoy this for a moment? Enjoy the feeling, no matter how real it never would be? Maybe it was wrong, but — your eyes fluttered shut as your arm wrapped loosely around Gojo — you certainly didn’t want to be the one to wake up first.

And you weren’t — your eyes flutter open to movement, and your eyes meet cerulean eyes, lips parted in surprise, “Morning,” he manages, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks, “did we fall asleep?”

“I guess we did,” you bite your lip, “are you going to—”

And he blinks, before scrambling off of you, “Sorry,” he mumbles, as he turns away to fidget with his phone.

“Guess that was one very boring movie,” you murmur.

“Or I was in a very comfortable bed,” he replies with a smirk that turns to a grimace.

“What is it?”

“Naoya Zenin is making an appearance at the wedding we’re attending tomorrow,” and you groan, as he raises an eyebrow, “how many proposals had he made you?”

You scoff, “Proposals? More like propositions,” you shake your head, already aching from the sleep you had barely shaken off and now it had graduated to a shooting pain that made your eye twitch at the thought of that man, “he’s offered to do me the ‘honor’ of being the next heir’s husband half a dozen times. If he ever becomes the head of the Zenin clan, I may help Maki annihilate them myself,”

Naoya Zenin — the most pretentious and egocentric man you had the displeasure of meeting. Even his pretty face could do nothing to fix his hideous personality ridden with misogyny, hatred, and spite. And you’d been offered his hand in marriage half a dozen times due to your lineage in a lesser known clan family with a unique cursed energy. It was a strategic move to try and secure his place — as was every move he made — he had no room for anyone he deemed useless to his plan.

Unfortunately, you did not fall into that special category.

“That won’t happen,” Gojo replies, texting on his phone, “plus, he’s too weak to force that to happen — not to mention he’s a first class prick,”

“You say that, but you basically propositioned me,” you teased, as his eyes flit up from his phone, as you rise from the couch, “quite the proposal you came to me with,”

He pauses a moment, a small smile on his lips, “one, i don’t recall proposing, and trust me that’s something I’d remember,” and you roll your eyes, “and two, aren’t you just as bad, since you said yes, sweetheart?”

“Can you blame a girl wanting a little extra money?” And he locks his phone, drawing close, your breath catching as he lets himself linger for a second too long.

“Can you blame a man for wanting a beautiful and intelligent woman?” And he’s leaning close, but he leans back, only grabbing his coat from the couch, still slung over as it had been. He spares you a smirk at your bewildered expression, “close your mouth, you’ll catch flies, princess, and what a shame that would be,” you scowl, and he laughs as he heads to the door, slipping on his shoes, with a final glance and grin thrown over his shoulder as he opened your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Right. Tomorrow. The wedding.

Fuck. You were so screwed.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Fuck. You scrambled from your vanity as you finished putting the finishing touches on your look for tonight. You didn’t think Satoru Gojo of all people could ever be on time, but you supposed there was a first time for everything.

You slipped the dress over your head, careful not to smear your makeup or mess up your hair. You were starting to regret not having the Gojo family’s attendants get you ready for this event, if only so you could have turned your mind off for this time. But you knew all too well that your mind could never give you a break — with all of that free time came free real estate for your anxiety to set up camp and put down roots for all the things that could possibly go wrong. So it was better this way, as you reach for the ties on the back of your dress — of course, maybe if you had let yourself be helped, you could actually have someone to tie your corset back on this dress.

Another knock.

“Sweetheart?” You hear Gojo’s muffled voice through the door, “you’re not planning on standing me up are you?”

You stumble your way to the door, clutching the back of your dress, as you take a breath and throw it open, “Can you tie the back of my dress?”

Fuck. He looked gorgeous. His hair was parted and combed off to the side, a deep blue suit coat and a crisp white collared shirt tucked into a matching suit pant. A pair of sunglasses were tucked into the chest pocket of his jacket in front of a white pocket square.

“No hello, ‘can you tie my dress?’” Gojo tilts his head, his eyes graze over your appearance, as he steps inside and closes the door behind him, “turn around,” And you do, fingers still clutching at the fabric at the back of your dress, cheeks burning as you do, “gonna have to let go, and let me help you, sweetheart,”

You slowly let go, but his warm fingers brush against the skin of your bare back as he holds the dress up from slipping, carefully lacing the corset, “I was right, blue is your color,” he murmurs, as he tugs lightly at the strings, “let me know when it’s tight enough,”

“It’s good now,” you sigh — though the corset wasn’t as tight as your chest now, you face him now, trying to adjust your hair.

“Let me,” one hand cups your chin gently, your breath catching and you can only hope he can’t feel your pulse through your skin. His fingers run through your soft tresses, your eyes unable to meet his — but you wonder if he can see right through you anyway — “you’ve never been good at asking for help,”

“Look who’s talking,” you glare at him, as he chuckles, “well, I asked you didn’t I?”

“Why did you ask me?” You raise an eyebrow, “I’m sure you could have asked anyone,”

“Well, I didn’t want just anyone,” he murmurs, fingers tracing the blush you had lined your cheeks with, “I wanted you,”

“Why?” And he parts his lips, a soft smile that pulls at his features — was it a hint of pink across his cheeks.

“Because—“ and your phone goes off — a reminder with the time of the wedding. And the moment’s broken, as reality settles over you again, “We’ll be late,”

“I don’t mind being late,” and a heat burns from his touch, from the tips of your fingers to the his fingers leave your cheek, warmth fading as quickly as it came, but he offers his hand, “but if it’s for you, I can be on time,” and your fingers find his, interlacing, before he tugs you close, his arm around your waist, “as long as you stay by my side.”

You never were one for weddings. At least not one like this.

A stuffy event held in an extravagant manner — a large banquet hall for the reception, but now the guests roamed the gardens the hall opened out into — lush greenery serving as a perfect backdrop for this wedding — a distant branch of the Zenin family was marrying, which meant all of the main clans were invited to attend. Including several elders of the Gojo clan.

And now you were being subjected to this as well — several dozen eyes on you — all due to the man whose arm you were on. His arm wrapped almost protectively around your waist, his lips nearly brushed against your ear when he whispered in it, letting you know just exactly who was coming over.

“I didn’t think you were one to care for remembering these things,” you wave at the couple that just left the two of you, his fingers grazing the skin behind your ear as he tucked a stray strand behind it.

“I usually don’t care, but I know it’d make you uncomfortable otherwise, especially among all these people,” he smirks, his fingers finding yours, and squeezing, “plus, we need to make a good impression, don’t we?”

“I think we’re making an impression just by being together,” you murmur, and he raises an eyebrow, “everyone’s staring — didn’t you notice?” and he shrugs, a sly smile on his lips.

“Didn’t notice,” he tilts his head, his eyes fixed on you, “I was too busy looking elsewhere, I guess,”

Your cheeks burn, but as your lips part to respond, you see him walking over to the discreet corner you had parked yourselves in, “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, your fingers tightening around his.

Naoya Zenin strides over in a black yukata kimono, his silver hair pushed back, his lips twisted in a slimy smile that made your skin crawl, your name leaving his lips, “it’s been far too long, you’re looking lovely,” his eyes raked over you like hot coals, “though the company you keep—”

“Has improved markedly,” Satoru’s lips curl in a grin, “do you have business with my girlfriend?”

Naoya raises an eyebrow, “Girlfriend?”

Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, “I didn’t realize you went hard of hearing — I know your hair had started to go, but your hearing too—” you hid your snort poorly, Naoya’s sharp gaze flickering between the two of you.

“I’m younger than you are, and my hair is bleached,” he snaps, “or are those six eyes not sharp enough to see that as well? They certainly aren’t enough for you to have found Suguru Geto before he caused a war,”

And Satoru’s hurt is imperceptible — a hint of hurt that only shows in the tightness of his jaw for a millisecond, before he’s only giving another laugh.

“At least I am already the head of my clan, because even if I were without my six eyes,” he smirks, but a certain meanness pulls at his features, “I’m still not as weak as you are—”

Naoya’s expression sours, curdled into a foul scowl, “What did you—”

“Alright,” you hold up your hands, “Let’s save the dick measuring contest for later, okay? This is a wedding, let’s not cause a scene, ok?” you glance between the two of them, and Satoru pouts — while Naoya seems all too pleased, a grin broken across his lips.

“This is why you’re the perfect woman — you know how to mediate between men’s egos, and—”

“Naoya, I said let’s not cause a scene, and you’re two steps away from me causing one right now,” you snap, “I wasn’t interested the first dozen times you asked me when I was single, so why would you think I’d be interested now, when I have a boyfriend?”

His face flushes red, and you’re not sure whether it’s in anger or embarrassment, “I doubt you’re even really a couple,” he hisses, “I know all about the proposals that this idiot has been getting and the pressure to marry,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sure you’ll come running to me once he’s done using you—“

Satoru surges forward, but you press a hand against his chest, “We don’t need to justify our relationship to you, so think what you want — but even if Satoru and I break up, I rather die single than ever spend a minute with you,” and you look at Satoru, your gaze softening, “and I rather spend be single for the rest of my life than spend another minute without him,” and you slide your eyes back to Naoya, his fists clenched, as you lean in, “so fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but the staff begin to wave everyone into their seats, and the wedding begins. The two of you sit, a silence falling over as others take their seats beside you. A subtle tension as music filled the air and the wedding proceedings began—but you could have cared less— god what the fuck had you said to Naoya? How had Gojo taken it? Does he know how you feel? Does he think it’s an act?

Then his fingers find yours, “Thank you,” he whispers softly, managing only those two words before the wedding begins.

And it dawns on you — it wasn’t what you said, it was the fact you had defended him, your heart aches, it was the fact you had defended him when Naoya insulted Suguru.

Your eyes stay fixed forward as the ceremony begins — it was never about you — as you pulled your fingers away from him.

Like it always never was.

The wedding ceremony goes by — as does the reception, without much to-do. The only silver lining is that there’s far too much small talk for the two of you to have a moment to talk alone, especially when the two of you spot the Gojo clan elders side-eyeing you from the table of old folks, not to mention Naoya hovering around that same table, the same scowl on his face. The only remark that Satoru whispered as the two of you floated by the table pointedly, a smirk on his lips as he waved and held you close to his side — “one quick hollow purple could solve my problems,”

You gave a forced chuckle at that — unfortunately not yours.

And finally, the two of you head home — in relative silence, the drive being short to Gojo’s apartment, where your car was parked. You sigh as he pulls in, “I’ll head out I guess—”

“Why don’t you just stay the night?” and your gaze snaps to his, the first time all night, “it’s really late, and I have a guest room—”

“My apartment isn’t—”

“Your apartment isn’t far, but I thought we could…talk,” and your heart gallops to a start — talking was the last thing you wanted to do.

“What is there to talk about?” And his fingers brush against your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Maybe about why you can’t meet my eyes?” You huff, looking away.

“Can you blame me? Your blue eyes are freaky,” you grumble, and you can hear the judgment in the silence, a first for Gojo, “Gojo, what do you want me to say?”

He stays quiet for a moment, “You don’t have to say anything, just come inside,” So you do — following him inside, the silence hanging over you like a guillotine waiting to slice, “Thank you for what you said—“

The door clicks behind him, as you stop, “Gojo—“

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you’re shaking your head.

“You don’t have to thank me, I was just—“

“But what you said—“

“I said what I had to—“

“You didn’t have to say all that, Princess,” his voice grows soft, “you know you didn’t,” and he’s drawing closer across his living room.

“He was upsetting you,” you murmur, eyes unable to find his again, falling instead to his plush carpet laid against his hardwood, “I couldn’t stand by and let him — I know it hurt when he brought up Suguru—“

“Suguru?” he repeats, and your eyes find his, finally, and you find his brow furrowed, “is that what you think I was thanking you for?”

“What else would you—“ and he’s stepping even closer, your breath stuck in your throat as his fingertips graze your cheek again, “Satoru—“

“Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” he murmurs, a soft chuckle in his voice, “you always look beautiful, but tonight in particular, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,”

“You don’t have to—“

“That’s just it, I don’t have to,” his palm slides against your cheek, “I want to — I want to when it’s you,”

“But, i can’t do this, not like this,” tears burn at the corners of your eyes, water threatening to spill out of a too full glass that had been full for far too long, “not when it will give me—“ you cut yourself off before you cut your own heart out, but he’s only forcing the scalpel back into your hand.

“Give you what?”

And you can’t turn back now — you’d turned from this road far too many times, sprinted in the opposite direction only to end up here again — you needed to do this, even if it lead to a dead end cliff, “Give me the wrong idea,” and you’re turning away, but his hand catches you by the wrist, “stop, I—“

“It’s not the wrong idea,” and you stop.

No, it was. It was, right?

“Satoru—“ and his fingers find your own, as he steps closer, “please, don’t—“

“If you want me to really stop and forget about this, I will,” he murmurs, “I’ll turn around and open the door and let you go home right now, sweetheart. I won’t bring this up again,” but you don’t move away, you don’t say anything, so he continues, “but if you don’t want that, and you want the same thing I do—“

“And what is it that you want?” And you hear his soft chuckle, his cheek brushing against you, as his fingers tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I thought that was obvious, but I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you,” he squeezes your hand, as he guides your face to look back at him, his lips curled in a small smile, “I want you,”

Your breath is shaky, no, no — he doesn’t mean that, “No you don’t,”

He tilts his head, “You don’t think I don’t know what I want?”

“Satoru, I don’t want to be a substitute for others—“

And his hands are sliding around your middle, pulling you closer, “You think I could ever think of you as a second choice?”

“But—“ and every doubt from when you were younger wells up, every fear of not being enough — but they are erased away, crumbled into dust, by the way he looks at you — entire multitudes of skies all made to look at you.

“You keep finding reasons not to do this,” and his fingers skim your cheek, before resting under your chin, “but have you tried finding a reason why we should?”

“Satoru—“ you can’t help but lean into his touch — god, he was a temptation personified — everything you ever wanted, even when you tried not to want it. These feelings were never fake — so why not give in? Just this once. Your fingers slide against his cheek, and you can feel his skin burn under your touch, “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“No, sweetheart,” he leans in even closer, your breaths becoming one, “but I’d love to find out,”

His lips brush yours — it’s chaste, hesitant, testing the waters — he tastes like sugar, and you almost laugh — he tastes like the frosting from the wedding cake that he had swiped a slice of on the way out that he finished before you two had reached his car. His eyes flutter open for half a second, before your lips are crashing to his this time — a new record for addiction? A second maybe and you were too far gone.

His hands cup your cheeks, one sliding to the back of your neck, as the other slides down to your waist to pull you ever closer.

“Did you find it out?” You murmur between kisses, lips meeting and parting if only to allow you both a breath. And his snowy eyelashes flutter, as his lips quirk upwards.

“Think I need another,” and his lips swallow any coherent thoughts you have, his hands slipping down your sides, lips parting again, “another,” he murmurs, a kiss, “another,”

“How many do you need?” you ask breathlessly, a chuckle caught in your throat, and his lips press desperate kisses along your jaw, a smirk against your skin.

“Is infinity an answer?” And you laugh, “have to take responsibility — I’m addicted to you,”

“And if I’m addicted?” His hands squeeze your hips, drawing a gasp from your lips.

“I’d be more than happy to take responsibility for you, Princess — always have,”

Your heart beats against the bars of its cage, threatening to burst out — but you couldn’t — not without knowing, “And if you break my heart?”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” he leans down to press butterfly kisses to your cheek, “but even if I do, I’ll put it back together,”

“Promise?” You murmur, and his lips meet yours again, and again, as he’s leading you towards his bedroom, his fingers running through your hair.

And the door to his bedroom swings shut, “Promise.”

“How long are you going to tease me?” you’re grumbling, cheeks hot and eyes averted, the back of your hand pressed against your lips, as Satoru presses needy kisses along your neckline of your dress.

He looks up at you through his snowy lashes, and you don’t know if you want to slap the smile off his lips or kiss it off, “You’ve been teasing me for years, you can’t give me this time, sweetheart?” His teeth graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “plus, do y’know how fun it is to watch you squirm?”

Slap. It’s definitely a slap.

“You’re insufferable,” and he smirks when your breath catches when his lips ghost over the swell of your chest.

“Yet you’re the one who's under me—“ and you try to get up only for him to pin you back down, a pout on his lips, “alright, alright, can’t blame me for wanting to see you squirm, Princess, how many chances will I get?”

“Only this one if you keep this up,” and he’s finding your lips in a languid kiss, an apology with no words, a smile filled with affection that only made it hard for you to feign annoyance.

“Then I better make this count,” he’s gently helping you up, turning you around to undo your corset strings — but you wonder if he’s undoing it or tangling it, “why did we choose a dress with such a complicated back?” It’s his turn to grumble and it only draws a giggle from you.

“Surprised you haven’t hollow purple’d it by now,”

“Trust me if you weren’t in it, I would have,” he sighs, as the fabric begins to loosen up, slipping off your shoulders.

“And here I thought you were good at everything,” you chuckle as he helps you shimmy out of the dress, the fabric falling away from you in a small pool around your ankles. Pools of blue rake over your exposed body, raising goosebumps in its wake, as your arms reflexively try to cover yourself, but his hands find your own, easing them away.

“I’m good at what counts, Princess,” he kisses your wrist, pulse jumping under his touch, nose brushing against it, he hovers over you, as he undoes his tie, fingers tugging at the knot, as he undoes the top button of his shirt, “and I’ll show you.”

~~~~

Satoru had dreamed of this — of you and him. He knew when he realized it — although it was too late when he did. Maybe it was the night before you left — the night after graduation — before you left — you had fallen asleep watching the movie you had put on. Your lips parted and mouth ajar, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were out. He had leaned over to grab his phone to snap a picture to tease you with later, only for your fingers to grab onto him, your head on his shoulder, a quiet murmur of his name.

“Satoru,” — not Gojo, as you had always called him. And he knew he wanted to hear you say it again and again. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair away, his head leaning against yours.

Suguru was everything to him for a time — he had come to Satoru at a time where he thought no one else would ever be able to understand him. No one else would be able to reach him — because how does a person reach for a god? But here you were — and the way your head rested on his shoulder and your lips said his name made him want nothing more than you by his side.

And when you left — you didn’t reply to his messages, you disappeared, just like everyone else did in his life. He was always left alone in the end — maybe it was his fate.

But then you came back — came back almost right after Suguru left for good. And that part of his heart that was meant for you began to thrive again and again — as he spent more time with you.

And god, when his clan started to pressure him to find someone to marry — he wrote them off as he always did. He thought he could ride out the ridiculous proposals and dates they had arranged for him — but as he thought more about who he wanted to spend his time with, who he wanted to see after a tiring mission, and who he couldn’t imagine being without —-

And he realized it was you.

“Satoru, don’t tease me,” you pouted, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, legs spread for him, his eyes flirting between your all too cute expression and the growing wet patch on your panties, “fuck, please—“

“Gonna have to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, his arm hooked under your knee, your foot pressed against his back, “where do you want me?”

“You fuck-er—“ the last syllable is a gasp as he kisses your sensitive clit through your soaked underwear, “Toru—“ a whine leaves your throat.

Fuck, you’re so cute, his fingers toy with the elastic of your panties — and all of this was worth it, worth it to see if these feelings were what he thought they were, worth it to make you smile, and worth to end up with you.

“How can I refuse you when you say my name like that?” he’s tugging your underwear away, exposing your sipping cunt to a rush of air and his warm breath, “all this f’me, baby?” You mumble something he can’t quite make out, “what was that?”

Your glassy eyes look up at him, blown wide with lust, “Only f’you, Satoru,” fuck, his dick twitches — he could bust just looking at you.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, “g’nna make me cum just with your words,” but he diverts his attention to your needy cunt, his long fingers graze over your pussy, collecting the precum on his fingertips, before he pinches your clit.

“Toru,” you squirm, as he grins down at you, all too pleased.

“Imagine if the elders could see you like this — spread out for me like a good little wife,” he’s leaning down to kiss your fluttering folds, leaning back for you to see the shiny pre that clings to his lips that his pink tongue darts out to clean off, “sweetest thing I’ve tasted,”

“Please, Toru, fuck—“ and finally his finger is circling your hole, before sinking in knuckle deep — fuck, you were fucking tight — he could melt from your warmth, pulling him in like a siren to a drunken sailor, “oh my god,”

“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ princess,” and he earns a glare from you that fades into an open mouthed moan as he begins to pump his finger in and out, “so good for me,” and he’s adding another finger, the wet squelch of your cunt growing louder, as he reaches a hand down to graze against his erection if only for a little relief.

He wishes he could memorize the way you looked right now — perfect little lips parted for him, his name and soft pants the only sounds you could manage to make, your back arching into his touch, and the way you moaned when his lips found their way around your clit.

His tongue circles your clit at first before his lips suck at the hard pearl, fingers parting your dripping folds, finally finding that spot that had your walls giving that telltale spasm, “Toru, I’m close—g’nna cum—“ you whimper, his fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt as he sucks hard at your clit, and you cum, hard, around his fingers, drenching his face and finger alike, as he fucks you through your orgasm.

You’re beautiful — lips parted and chest heaving, as you moan his name again, “good girl,” he’s murmuring, as your eyes flutter open, to watch him lick his lips and fingers clean, “might get addicted to how you taste, sweetheart,”

And you’re boneless, but still you’re still reaching for him, pulling him into a languid kiss, his cock twitching as he shifts himself over you, hands pressed into the mattress, his clothed cock rubbing against your drenched folds.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you mumble against his lips, and he’s pulling back an inch — but unknowingly, he’s given you a mile, as you flip him onto his back.

You’re a vision — your perked up nipples visible through your bra, halfway slipping off your shoulders as it is, hair a lovely mess, and pretty lips kiss ruined.

“My turn,” and your lips burn a trail down his jaw, along the curve of his neck and the cut of his collarbone. You take your time, if only to pay him back in full for all the teasing he did, “didn’t know you taste so sweet, Toru,” your tongue drags up his chest, “must be all the sugar you eat,”

And your lips smile against his abs at the sharp gasp he fails to stifle, “I’ll have you know I’m very sweet—“ and your fingers graze over his clothed erection — his hips buck up into your touch, “I’m known for it,” he hisses, as a giggle escapes your lips.

“Uh-huh, I’m sure almost everyone would care to disagree,” the tip of his cock strains against the fabric, the dark wet patch growing larger the more your thumb beared down on it, “but I wouldn’t be one of them,” and you’re dragging the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock, your eyes nearly hypnotized by the slight of it, thick beads of precum dripping from the slit, before your gaze finds his again, softening, “because I know how much you do for others — and how much you’ve lost because of it,” you kiss his inner thigh softly, nose brushing against the skin.

“As long I don’t lose you,” he says softly, “I think I’ll be okay,”

And your fingers find their way around the base of his cock, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips, before you lean down and flick your tongue against his leaking tip, “I’m not going anywhere, Toru.”

Your tongue drags a thick stripe up his cock, before beginning to trace along one of his veins, your fingers slipping up to use his pre to rub up and down his length. Your thumb teases his slit, and a hiss leaves his lips, a smirk against his dick.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” his cheeks burn, dusted with pink surely — as he watches you lick the precum that dripped down your fingers onto your wrist, “knew that mouth would be s’fucking good—“

“Turns out you don’t shut up even in bed,” and that earns you a cheeky grin that parts into an ‘o’ as his dick sinks into your mouth. He swears he was closer to death than he was when Toji nearly killed him — not that he’d like to remember that man in this moment — but you’d surely be the death of him, and you would be — if he had to spend another second without you in his life.

Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes half shut, his white knuckled fingers gripping the sheets — you’re gorgeous as you swallow him whole — sucking and licking, nose brushing against his pubes as your eyes water, as you bob along his length from tip to base and back again.

“S’good for me, so pretty, fuck—” he groans, when his tip brushes against your throat, his fingers finding your scalp to try and ease you off, I’m s’close princess, g’nna cum—” But your hands only slide to his ass to hold yourself against him, as his dick twitches in your mouth, and your fingers drift to his sack while your tongue flicks along his slit and he’s done. He’s cumming down your throat, hot release painting your mouth.

He’s watching you with half lidded eyes pull away from him— a string of cum and spit strung between your lips and his dick, before beginning to drip from the corner of your mouth. And fuck, it’s enough to make him hard all over again. You lean over him, wiping the release from your lips, as you kiss up his body.

“Now who’s good at everything?” and he huffs out a chuckle.

“I stand corrected — actually, don’t think I’ll be standing for a while after that but—” and he’s finding your lips in a kiss, tasting himself you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, as your fingers find his erection again, stroking it, before he’s flipped you onto your back. He runs a hand through his snowy locks, a smile on his lips, “don’t think you’ll be doing much standing after this either,”

“So full of yourself,” you roll your eyes.

“That’s what you’re going to be full of in a second—”

“Oh my god—” and your laugh dies on your lips as he starts to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, “Toru,” you whine, as he watches your needy cunt flutter around nothing as he drags his length up and down your dripping hole, watching your releases mix, “please—”

“So polite,” he hums, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, “now how can I refuse that?” and he begins to sink his length into your cunt, warm walls nearly pulling his cock in deeper, as he groans your name, “s’perfect, s’good for me, princess, made for me,” and inch by inch, until he’s finally bottoming out.

“Toru, ngh, s’big—” you gasp, lips parted in a silent moan, as you pull him even closer, face buried in the crook of his neck, but his fingers tugging your hair to show your face.

“Let me see you,” he murmurs, as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss as he continues to thrust into you — his hips meeting yours, the wet squelch and skin slapping echoing in his ears. A gasp parting your lips as you pull apart, your head thrown back in a moan as your walls flutter around him as his tip breaches that one spot inside you.

“Haa, I’m close, Toru,” you groan, and he’s nodding, his fingers reaching between your bodies to find your clit.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” and you do — cumming hard, as he notches himself deep inside you, before spilling inside you, his hot release deep in your pussy. He’s moaning your name, as your bodies slow and his fingers cup your cheek gently, and his lips find yours.

He slowly rolls off of you, your warmth leaving him for a moment, before he’s pulling you close again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Is this a dream?” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut, and a small chuckle leaves his lips, legs entangled.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, “If it is, I hope I never wake up, Princess.”

Your body aches — that’s your first thought as you stir into consciousness. Fuck, why does you feel so sore? Your eyes try to flutter open, but the sunlight blinds you — a soft groan leaves your lips. You shift, as you stretch, your back aching and muscles tight, but then someone moves behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist.

Your eyes shoot open, as your head slowly turns to find looking at Satoru. A gasp is caught in your lips.

Fuck, it was real.

You slowly turn to face him, his soft breaths leaving his pink lips — god he’s so gorgeous. His pretty white eyelashes resting against his skin, lips parted ever so slightly, and his snowy hair askew and mussed. Your fingers ghost over his cheek lightly — how many people have seen him asleep like this? How many had seen him with his guard down? You knew he didn’t sleep nearly enough, you were surprised he was still asleep — but, your cheeks burned, you both did spend half the night awake.

But there were more pressing things to think about — what did this mean? You chew on your bottom lip, he had said he wanted you — but what did he want? Just last night? Or something more.

“I can’t sleep with your thoughts grinding so much,” he mumbles, heat rushing to your cheeks, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, “why are you awake so early?” His nose brushes against your neck, his lips pressing softly against your pulse.

“I just woke up,” you murmur, a small shiver running up your spine, as you relax into his touch, your fingers running through his soft locks, “did all my thinking wake you?”

“Yes, and you’ll have to compensate me,” and you snort.

“You’re rich, like old money rich,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your skin, heat climbing up your body.

“Money isn’t what I want,” he nuzzles you, nose brushing against the skin of your neck, “wonder what other ways you can repay me,”

You chuckle, humming at his touch — god even the simplest of touches has your logic up in ash, “I’m sure you can figure out some other methods of payment,”

And his lips find yours again — it’s a lazy morning kiss, soft and slow, but not bereft of any of the passion from the night before. His fingers slide down your body, as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“My preferred method of payment wouldn’t have us leaving this room until tomorrow morning,” his lips curl in a smirk, “but I’ll collect my charge tonight — how about I make us breakfast?”

“You can make breakfast?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I know how to scramble an egg,” he shrugs, and you snort only for him to pout, and you smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek, before your thumb runs down his lips.

“How about we make breakfast together?”

“Was that really your first time making tamagoyaki?” you raise an eyebrow, as you pick up a piece of the rolled omelet between your chopsticks.

“Promise,” and you bite it — it was perfect — the texture, the taste, the seasoning. And you stare at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Either you’re lying or you really are good at everything,” you mutter, and he grins, as he takes a bite of his food — a sweeter tamagoyaki he had made for himself, far too smug for his own good.

“I think I proved that last night, Princess,” and you nearly choke on your food. And you chew thoughtfully — you two hadn’t even breached what last night meant yet. You had simply been dancing around it, or at least you had. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up — or rather, you picked up another piece of tamagoyaki up, you didn’t know how to, “what’s going on in that head of yours?”

And your eyes snap up, “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head, “You’re not hard to read — you keep thinking about something,” and his lips curl, “last night?” Your hesitation gives you away — and he only smiles wider, “should I refresh your memory?” And your cheeks are burning, and he chuckles, “come on, sweetheart, let’s just talk,”

You bite your lip — you needed to do this, you couldn’t run away from how you felt, not again — your fingers fidgeting with your chopsticks, before you place them down on your bowl, “What did last night mean?”

And his lips curl, but this smile he has is softer, “What do you think sweetheart? Do you think I’m really the—“ And his phone rings, and he picks up his phone, eyes flickering to the caller, and you wave him off, “you can take the call,”

He sighs, “One second,” he gets up to speak, and he hangs up a few minutes later, “text me a location,”

“Who was that?” And he’s shaking his head, a sigh on his lips, his hand on the back of his neck.

“The ever breathing and ever irritating geezers want me to meet them to speak about something involving the clan,” he meets your gaze, a flicker of an emotion in his eyes — a drop of water that disappears into the sea as quickly as it formed, “and it’s a good opportunity for me to discuss something I have been wanting to speak with them about,”

“Something?” and his lips quirk in a small smile.

“I’ll be back soon enough to explain, sweetheart,” he walks over to you, “will you wait here for me? Think I’ll be able to come back faster if I know you’re here waiting for me,”

And you can’t help the small flutter your treacherous heart gives, “The great Satoru Gojo will rush for me?”

“Oh, he would rush day and night if it meant he could come home to you,” and his fingers find your cheek, drawn like a magnet — why was it you could never look away from him? Even in a crowd, your eyes always found his gaze.

And you’d go to him — like a moth to a flame, “I think I’d prefer just Satoru,” you lean into his touch, your hand over his, “I do owe him after all,”

“You do,” he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before he’s pulling away, a smile on his lips, “consider that a deposit.”

You didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Alone in Satoru’s place — you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He had left right after breakfast, and he told you where the TV was, books, and told you could order anything or use anything you needed. But, this place was so him — each place you went, there was just another reminder of him that seemed trail after you, but at the same time, without him, it was like a shell of a place — no soul present.

And you supposed the soul wasn’t present.

You ended up back in the bedroom, crawling back under the covers. Fuck, they even smelled of him — you squeezed your eyes shut.

You really didn’t know what you were doing — did you?

You laid on your back. What were you supposed to make of what happened last night and this morning for that matter? Was this real now? A real relationship with Satoru — you turned over on your stomach, pulling the covers over your head — you could barely imagine it.

And your phone goes off, as you reach for it blindly on the nightstand. But it wasn’t the white haired sorcerer you hoped it was — your eyebrows knit together — at least you didn’t think it was. A text from a number you don’t recognize — and a picture to top it off from the preview.

You nearly deleted it — only to spot a familiar mop of white in the picture.

Your blood runs cold at the sight. Satoru? He was at a restaurant with — a woman? You didn’t recognize her, but his hand held hers, picture taken mid laugh. Your cheeks burn — no, no — there had to be an explanation.

A text now — Want to see what your boyfriend does in his spare time? Is he done using you now?

There’s only one person who’d text like that.

Naoya, how fuck did you even get this picture? You stare at the photo — have you fallen so far in your clan that you have the time to stalk Satoru now?

He replied, it’s not my fault that they are dining in a Zenin owned business.

Another picture — Satoru and her were hugging, his arm around her waist, far too close to be friendly.

You don’t think — you call him. It rings and rings, but no answer — the cut to voicemail makes your heart sink.

Another text — even if you don’t believe me, do you think this will be the last of your problems? When you’re Satoru Gojo, anyone close to you will have a target on their back — if only to use your blood to paint one on his head.

You knew you couldn’t trust this. You knew there was an explanation. You knew Satoru wouldn’t do this to you.

But even still, you wished you could tell your heart that.

“What is this?” Satoru was led to a table at the restaurant the old geezers had chosen — but there were no wrinkly old cranks in sight. Instead, there was a woman.

“Are you Satoru Gojo?” And he raises an eyebrow, hands sliding into his pockets.

“The one and only, now I don’t suppose the old fools of the Gojo clan turned into a woman — so who are you?” She swirls the glass in her hand, before downing the liquid in one go.

“Figures they had to lie to get you here — seems like we’ve been set up,” she gestures to the chair in front of her, “I’m Airi,” and he takes a reluctant seat, “I was told this was a meeting for us to meet for a potential engagement,” and he scoffs, he should have figured it was something like this, “but judging by the look on your face, you didn’t know that,”

“I was expecting to meet

I suppose we’re on the same page,”

He tilts his head, “Really?”

“Gojo, you may be a catch, but to me, you’re nothing more than a potential knife to my neck,” she places her glass down, leaning back in her chair, “and plus, I have someone I’m interested in,” and her eyes slide down, “and judging by the bite mark on your neck, you do too,”

He pays it no mind, a laugh leaving his lips at the thought of you waiting for him at his apartment, “I do,” and he sighs, pushing his chair out, before getting to his feet. “and I have to get back to her,”

She follows suit pushing out her own chair, rising, a waiter walking by, and she trips. It’s a reflex, he catches her by the wrist and by the waist, steadying her.

“Sorry,” she pulls away immediately, looking back for the waiter, before biting her tongue, “fucking waiter tripped me,” the two of them glance around, but see no one, “I’ll have to talk to my grandfather’s advisors about this. No one trips the granddaughter of Naobito Zenin,” she mutters, and Satoru’s eyes snap to her.

“You’re a Zenin?” And it clicks, the wedding, “who arranged this meeting?”

She tilts her head, “My father, but he heard about this from my cousin, Naoya—“

He checks his phone — and he sees a missed call from you.

Fuck. It was a set-up — in both ways.

“I have to go,” and he can only hope you wouldn’t do the same to him when he came back.

Satoru calls you, but you don’t pick up. You can’t bring yourself to stare back at the photo he had set as his contact photo — the picture Yuta had taken of him clutching at his phone with your picture on his screen.

You needed to talk to him in person.

And it’s not long before he’s back home — practically teleporting at your feet.

You swear, stumbling and he grabs you, tugging you close, “Got you,” he smiles, tugging off his blindfold for you to see his eyes — the startling blue that you still couldn’t navigate without drowning in its depths, “does that mean I can keep you?” and you want to pull away, you want to run, but you can’t help but melt into his touch, your fingers gently clutching at the front of his shirt.

“That depends on whether I’m the only person you’ve said that to,” and you look up at him, his brow furrowed, “and held like this,”

“The meeting today, it was supposed to be with the elders — I was going to discuss our relationship again but—“ you show him the pictures on your phone, and his brow knit together, “how did you—“ and he doesn’t finish his sentence before he realizes, “it was a set-up,”

“I know,” and relief washes over features for a moment, but your eyes can’t meet his, your lips a thin line.

And he glances at the photo again, seeing the one where he’s holding Airi, “She tripped, sweetheart, trust me—“ his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “I don’t want to hold anyone but you,”

“I know Naoya and the Gojo clan probably set this up,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, “but—” you pull away from him, every step away from him a fissure in the foundation of this bridge built, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,”

And he’s blinking, “Why?”

“I’m not good enough,” you’re shaking your head, stepping back as he steps forward, “I hurt you by leaving, and I was this close to doing it again—”

“But you didn’t—”

“And your clan doesn’t want us together, and I don’t know, I feel even if we’re together,” the words that leave your lips break your heart and his, we’ll only hurt each other in the end,”

“Why do you always push me away when we get close?”

“No I don’t—”

“You don’t think the sorcerer that’s an expert at pushing others away — wouldn’t know if he’s getting pushed away?”

“This isn’t working out,” you cut him off, as the slice cuts through thin air — but it’s not your head that goes rolling — it’s his heart, “we should stop — I think your clan has been convinced,”

He’s silent for a moment, before he replies, “well, I haven’t been convinced,”

You scoff, his hands by his side, as his quiet footsteps approach you, “convinced of what?”

“Convinced that,” he stops in front of you, “you don’t feel the same way I do,” Your breath catches, as his fingers find your cheek, “all these years, sweetheart, and you didn’t know?”

“But,” you can’t process this, it doesn’t make sense, “but Suguru—“

“Was important to me yes,” he murmurs, “but it’s been years, and it doesn’t mean I can’t have deep feelings for someone else — especially when I’ve had them for over a decade,”

“You—“ was this real? As he stood before you, in his living room low lights, sunlight streaming in from his windows, “what?”

He laughs, “Didn’t know it was possible to render you speechless, sweetheart — guess there’s a first time for everything,” he steps over your missteps with the same ease he does everything, “I really do have to spell everything out for you, don’t I?” The back of his fingers ghost over your cheek, “I’m in love with you—“

“No,” you’re shaking your head, and his face falls, “Satoru, we can’t—“

“But—“

“Your clan doesn’t approve of me, they won’t stop trying to break us up, and I could put you in danger,” you murmur, “they could use me against you — just like Suguru did,” you couldn’t bear the thought of that, “and is that worth it? Worth it for something that may not be real?” You ask the question you’re afraid of asking him — of asking yourself — “was it ever real?”

And he’s still trying to reach for you, despite it all — he knows it’s dangerous to be around him, he knows anyone close to him is in danger — and that’s why he was okay when you left. If only you’d be safe — but he knew that if he always played it safe, he would never be happy, “It’s real to me,”

“It’s not to me,” you turn towards the door, “I’m sorry.”

And this time he doesn’t stop you.

It’s for the best.

That’s what you tell yourself. The same thing you say when you’re leaving his place. The same thing you say the next morning you wake up with only a pain in your chest and a dull ache in your head. The same thing when you accept a long mission overseas.

It was for the best.

Then why — then why did you think of him? Each and every day, every minute, every second. But it was for the best. He was safer without you, it was easier without you, it was better — better and yet each day seemed to drag when you couldn’t talk to him. And your notes were filled with unsent texts to him — and your mind was filled with nothing but memories.

And you couldn’t touch memories nor could you talk to them.

Several months later, you’re sitting in a plane, watching the animation of the plane fly back towards Tokyo. You had been checking in with Yaga several times a month, but you hadn’t heard a thing from Satoru.

Or rather, Gojo. Not that you expected to — not after what you did.

And soon enough, you’re arriving home — heading inside your home to find a bunch of your mail had fallen out of your mailbox, knocked out of the rickety box from the storm the night before. You pick up the drenched mail between two fingers that was stuck to the sides of your walls, as you fumble with your keys to open the door. Your suitcase and mail fall to the fall as you close the door behind you, sighing.

Fuck. You were home.

You dragged your suitcase inside, picking up the mail off the floor. You collapsed on your couch, tossing the wet envelopes onto the table — when a name catches your eye.

Gojo?

You pick up an envelope — the frilly envelope doing nothing to protect the contents inside — you barely can make out any of the text, except the faint inked kanji of his name.

You gingerly open the envelope, peeling out the insides — and your heart drops.

Is this an invitation? The faint text was blurred and smudged from the rain — the contents all but faded and you could only make out three things — ““marriage,” today’s date, and bits and pieces of what you thought was an address.

Satoru was…getting married?

It felt like logic had fled your mind and panic took its place — as you looked up the parts of the address that you were able to decipher. And you found it — it was a popular venue not far from here.

You didn’t think — you grabbed your keys and drove.

You couldn’t let him get married, no, no — you had made a mistake when you left. You thought he was better off, you thought it was for the best — but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be when your chest hurt like this — felt as if your heart was splitting in two with a sword stuck between your ribs. It couldn’t be because you pushed him away because you were scared — scared of getting hurt again, scared of hurting him, scared of being with the only person you ever had loved.

Basically, you pulled up to the venue, you were an idiot.

You hadn’t changed, you hadn’t showered off your who knows how long of a flight, and now you were on the steps of a wedding venue that Satoru was getting married at. You froze before the doors.

You couldn’t do this. He didn’t deserve to have his day ruined by you — not when you had ruined enough. If he had found someone else to spend his life with — whether it was arranged or not, he deserved to be happy.

Even if it wasn’t with you.

So you step down — walking off a distance to watch when the couple emerged — which judging by how dark it was and how staff were already almost done setting up — would be any minute now.

So you wait.

And finally when the doors swing open, you steel yourself — knowing it would do nothing, nothing to shield you from the pain of seeing—and your eyes find the groom.

That wasn’t Satoru.

He certainly had the white hair, but he did not have his blue eyes — he had a lovely bride regardless, who looked at him the way you had always looked at Satoru. Was that the look you had hidden away for so many years? And why were you still hiding?

And your eyes find Satoru almost instantly — as fast as his eyes find you seemingly, as your name escapes his lips — as he parts through the crowd to your side. He’s wearing the other suit he had tried on — the white suit that had been your second favorite — his white locks parted and combed to the side, but still impossibly unkempt as they always were.

“You got my invitation?” you blink, tilting your head.

“But you—what?” and his brow furrows.

“Don’t tell me you lost your ability to read and speak while overseas, princess,” and a small chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head, wringing your hands.

“Satoru, the invitation was wet because of the rain, I thought—” your voice wavers, glancing away as your cheeks burn, “I thought you were getting married.”

He raises an eyebrow, lips curling, “And you were about to burst in and object?”

You roll your eyes, but even so you can’t meet his gaze, “Satoru—”

His smile only grows wider, “What were you going to say? A passionate speech about how you’re still—” And you’re tugging him close by the collar, and his breath catches, your name leaving his lips.

“I’m in love with you, Satoru,” your voice is steady as you speak, your hand sliding to his cheek, “I always have been — I was just afraid to admit it, I didn’t want to hurt you — whether it was by my own hand or not,” and his brow furrows, but you continue, “but I’m not scared anymore — because it hurts more to be nothing than something with you—”

And his lips find yours. It’s everything you want — because it's him, he’s everything you’d ever wanted, and everything you’d ever want. You want the way his arm slides around your waist to pull you closer, you want the way his hand cups your cheek, you want the way his lips smile against yours, and you’d want his past, present, and future. And you’d do anything to keep it.

“Promise you’ll never leave like that again?” he murmurs, his arm tightening around your waist as he says the words, his forehead pressed against yours, “I already have abandonment issues,” and you chuckle, your fingers finding his cheek.

“I promise,” you murmur, “I’m sorry I left — both times I left, and there won’t ever be a third,”

And he smiles, “You proposing to me, sweetheart? I’m not one to rush into things, gotta take me out on a proper date first,”

“How about tonight?” you find his lips again, the taste of sugar on his lips — undoubtedly from indulging in a slice or several of wedding cake.

“So soon?” he hums,and his gaze softens, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “someone’s eager,” and your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his, as you would a million times more,

“Well, you don’t know until you try.”

✧ a/n: ahhh another celebration fic done!! this one was lowkey a struggle towards the end so i hope this turned out okay. it's beyond me understanding if it did or not lmao. i hope you guys enjoy ahhh -- gotta probably put up a poll to decide the next celebration fic this weekend :) (it's only because i'm horribly indecisive).

✧ taglist: @yunjinabla, @weluvsza, @yamaguccitadashi, @gojobbg, @soulofoz, @hfdkhjghjkghfj, @forest-fruits-jam, @cerene-dipity, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @reaperxdeath, @octopishisahybridanimal, @hanlay, @whereflowerswenttodie, @tsukimefuku, @numbing3scapism, @arcswonderland, @kirashuu, @fushitoru, @spider-fan72, @jayathelostdragon, @sunflowmaryam, @satorusmochis, @catsgomurp, @simply-a-s1mp, @kentocalls, @weluvsza, @lucy-xv0202, @mazzd4, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz

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