scamsz

[scamsz]

Gojo Satoru SFW alphabet (NB)

HELLO ALL. This is part one of my super awesome 100 follower celebration! Coming up next is the Gojo Satoru NSFW Alphabet, and, despite all that is good and holy, the Katsuki Bakugou SFW/NSFW alphabet. I know he didn't win the poll, but so many of my followers are here for Katsuki centric content, so it only makes sense to me.

In this, the reader is as nb as I could make them while sticking to my concepts, although there is a "I wanna get u pregnant tee hee" joke that you should probably be aware of.

Cred for template goes to ONE MORE SHOT

Word count: ~6000

Warnings: Cursing, light angst, and...that's it, I think!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) He prefers physical affection above all else...at least, that's what you'd think based on how much he hangs on you when you're together. Always he's touching you, making it so there was no question about whether or not you were together. Truly though, that was just for you. He liked it, loved it, loved any form of affection to and from you, but The thing that gave him the most butterflies was acts of service from you.

He was so used to doing everything for himself, and to being better than others at everything, that he never really knew what it was like to be cared for in that way.

Anyone could technically hug him, or spend time with him, or give him gifts, or tell him he did something good...but only you could make him breakfast before he gets a chance to, or do the dishes more efficiently, or beat a part of a game he can't for some reason. It makes him weak in the knees, like he can relax with you.

"Whatcha doin?"

"Makin' your lunch for tomorrow. Why?" You glance over to him, smiling as you watched him curiously peer over your shoulder.

"...No reason..." He mumbled, a smile growing on his face about as fast as that blush. He brings his arms around your waist, his chin on your head as he watched you work.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You are his best friend. No doubt about it. If you weren't he wouldn't be dating you, it only made sense to him. Was he yours...? He didn't actually know, and to be honest he didn't care. If he wasn't, he'd definitely tease you about it, but otherwise he was perfectly content treating you like his bestie.

"I'm going out with my friends," you called out, slipping on your shoes.

"Why? What about me?" Satoru whined, staring at you with a sarcastic pout from the couch.

"We're gonna be drinking," you laughed, raising your brows.

"...so?"

"So you're a lightweight."

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He's a cuddler, but a lazy cuddler 9 times out of 10. His arm gently around you on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder. His cheek on your scalp as you do literally anything that requires you to stand still (cooking, on the train, grocery shopping). Still, there's that one time where he holds you like you might dissipate if he doesn't.

Maybe after a nightmare, maybe after a mission a bit more dangerous than he or you let on, whatever it was, it was like he might lose you.

He does it when you're asleep, when he thinks you're not conscious enough to feel him being soft. The only reason you know is because sometimes he wakes you up with it, and he's too emotional to notice.

you'd be laying in bed with Satoru, nearly one in the morning, sleeping peacefully. Then, you feel his arms wrap around you, tight enough to wake you up. His mouth would be pressed to the top of your head, his breath slow, as if he were savoring the scent of you.

"You won't leave me, right...?" He wasn't talking to you, really he was talking to himself.

"...nah. You wouldn't..."

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

You know those people who try to go to the gym to get their life together, but really just like the aesthetic and can't follow through? That's Satoru with Domestic life. He'd love to settle down in one spot with you and do all the cute domestic things, like cook dinner every night and go grocery shopping every week, but he just can't focus for that long, he always has to be moving. Changing apartments, trying new restaurants, going wherever on a whim, they were all things he loved and domestic life lacked.

That's what he thinks, and that's what you let him think, but little does he know he hasn't moved in three years (a record for him), You've been "sleeping over" for the entirety of those three years, and you take turns making meals any time you're together, as well as split household chores.

Kids are another thing, he wouldn't willingly have kids. If you two conceived, or somehow managed to accidentally receive a child, he'd be content taking care of it with you, but truthfully he likes the calm personal life he lives, not to mention the fact that it wouldn't be ethical to him to raise a child while living such a dangerous life.

"Have you ever thought about having kids?"

"...getting you pregnant? sure. Kids...not so much."

"ok, good. I don't really want them either."

"We can still try for one, though~"

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He loves you too much to end it for reasons other than external forces, so there are two ways I can write this. One...

He makes himself the bad guy. Being flaky, being extra condescending, ignoring you more. He distances himself in the hopes that you see how bad he's being and call it off. He never wants you to think that he doesn't love you, or that he could ever find anyone better, so he acts like he's the shittiest boyfriend to ever boyfriend. Of course, you inevitably see through this, and he has to be honest.

"Listen...I...We can't do this anymore. You've been through a lot, I've been through a lot, and if we stay together, there are things out there that'll just make it worse. I might be selfish, but I'm not selfish enough to keep you with me when I know it'll hurt you."

And, prompt two would be...

Satoru breaking up with anyone but you, people he doesn't care about...He's ruthless. He could be with his partner at the time in the middle of a date, probably on his phone from the amount of boredom he experiences simply from being in the presence of this person, when he just announces, "Let's break up."

"H-huh?!"

"Yeah, fun while it lasted, it's not you it's me, all that," he sighs, walking off to find something else to quell his boredom.

I would like to say that personally, I think that most of his dating happened early in life, teens to early 20s, before he realized how difficult it would be in his line of work for numerous reasons and eventually gave up. Until he met you, of course.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He is constantly talking about marrying you. He "proposes" once a week, you'd think you were already his fiancé by now.

his head in your lap as he watches you click away on your phone? "Marry me~"

You doing the dishes as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist? "I'd consummate a wedding so hard with you right now~"

Doing- well, uh, this third example can wait for the NSFW portion.

Long story short, he constantly talks about it, but neither of you truly predict a wedding. First of all, you wouldn't even take his name because of how dangerous it is to be tied to the Gojo clan, and second of all...you're kinda already married. You have everything but the ring and the paper.

You live together, you'll never leave each other (unless a situation like in E arises, in which case it'd be especially helpful to not have the shared legal documents a wedding would bring), and you cook and clean for each other.

Lastly, he doesn't see the appeal. He understands the want to celebrate love, but to him, he doesn't need one special day when he can make every day special. Why buy you one ring for one day when he could buy you a new ring every day? Why put on nice clothes and promise to give you the world one measly evening when he could do just that every Saturday? He was just fine being your forever boyfriend.

"Mmm...Let's have a spring wedding," Satoru cooed, holding you by your hips as you chopped vegetables.

"There's too much pollen in the spring," you countered, an amused smile on your face.

"Winter then?"

"Too cold."

"Summer?"

"Too hot."

"...I'm beginning to think you might not actually wanna marry me." You could just hear the smile in his tone.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

In the SFW sense, he treats you like glass, physically at least. He kisses you with a sort of soft passion, like he wants you to melt in his arms...and you do. He holds you with feather light brushes of his hand, caressing your body and face because you're a work of art. He never wants you to be afraid of him, and although he knows you're strong enough to handle him, he couldn't bear the thought of losing you because he's too rough. He's gentle because he knows what he has.

Emotions are different, they're hard for him, and seeing as he's been through so much he doesn't understand why you get worked up over "little things." When you rant about something annoying that happened to you, he listens, but he doesn't empathize. He's on your side, always, but he's rather indifferent to your daily issues. Because of this, It makes you feel like you can't tell him things because it won't merit the reaction you want from him. He'll try for you, though.

"And so he said that I was being irrational, but I wasn't being irrational, I was..." You trailed off, looking at Satoru's sympathetic yet empty smile. "Do you think I was being irrational?"

"No! Of course not..." he said quickly, sitting up a little straighter. Did he? Well...He didn't...not think you were being irrational...but he also didn't agree with that other guy. Fuck that other guy.

"Well you have to tell me if you do, I don't wanna look stupid..."

"Relax, babe," he sighed, although it wasn't clear even to himself if he was referring to the situation or to you thinking he thought you were in the wrong.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

As I said before, he's constantly hanging on you, his hugs ranging anywhere from a quick squeeze to a desperate clutch. He just always wants to be touching you. That said, he only gives hugs to you. If one of his students or even a colleague hugs him, he'd be fine with that, but he only willingly gives hugs and physical affection to you.

"Whatcha doin?" You looked up at your boyfriend from your seat in front of the couch, who had a controller in his hand, his legs on either side of your body.

"playin video games." That's not what you were asking about, and he knew that.

"...is me being here really necessary?" You glanced down at his arms, which were resting on your shoulders and caging your head between them as his eyes stayed locked on the screen.

"Uh- y- fuck, fuck fuck fuck," he muttered, before GAME OVER scrawled across the screen in big letters. He feigned sadness, using it as an excuse to lean over you, pull you closer to him, and press his face next to yours. "Damn it, now you've gotta make me feel better..."

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You two were friends long before you started dating, and you didn't start dating until he knew he loved you...or rather, he knew it was safe to. You were strong enough to hold your own against his enemies, so he would never have to worry about you getting hurt, and therefore he could love you without being afraid.

That said, he didn't tell you he loved you until after you told him.

Truth be told...he forgot about it. He was so exited to be able to love you freely that he forgot about actually telling you, after all he had shown it loads before without words.

"Satoru...I love you..." you whispered nervously, confessing to him late at night in his arms.

"Uh-" he practically choked on air, not about the fact that you told him you loved him, but specifically about the fact that you were nervous. You seriously didn't think he'd say it back? Was he that confusing?

"I love you too," he announced quickly, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jealousy? He can't comprehend it. He's not jealous in the slightest, he knows he's special, and he knows you know. That said, he does take the time to remind you how great he is when someone else tries to flirt with you. Buying you a random gift, showering you with praise, doing you a service, whatever it is he thinks he needs to do. It's almost like he's trying to prove it to the other person, even if they're not necessarily there to see it.

"No, Sorry," you say gently to the man who just asked for your number. He wasn't aggressive towards you, he took your rejection nicely, but what bothered Satoru was the fact that he was standing right there. Did he not look enough like your boyfriend? Was he not clearly holding your shopping bags?

He also gave the man a superficial smile, bringing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. "You're too hot for the public, I should keep you inside forever," he teased, kissing your scalp.

He's really not a jealous person. He doesn't worry about anyone taking you away, but he also doesn't want anyone to forget you're his.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses everywhere, all the time. He kisses your head the most, because that's the easiest access for him, but he will and has kissed every inch of your body. He kisses you in different places in different ways for different reactions, and it's all entirely dependent on both of your moods. Trying to cheer you up? A quick peck on the cheek, accompanied by a goofy grin. snuggled up in bed, spooning? a couple kisses on your arm, or little smooches below and slightly behind your ear. I could make a chart of all the kisses and what they mean.

Personally, he likes kisses from you most when he needs them. Nothing eases him better than resting his head on your shoulder as you plant gentle kisses to his forehead. All kisses are loved equally by him, but if he had to pick one kind...those would be it. He couldn't live without them.

You stood in front of the mirror for a moment, frowning slightly as you took a glance at yourself. You didn't feel the most confident today. With a sigh, you moved on, walking back into the bedroom. Satoru saw all of this and knew exactly what was going on, crazy considering the moment lasted all of 3 seconds, and he made his way over to you.

He stood right in front of you, blocking you from your path.

"What're you doing," you ask, laughing a little as he looked down at you curiously.

He smiled, taking your hand by the ends of your fingers, bringing it up to his face as he said, "Nothing..."

He planted a long kiss to your knuckles, giving you those bedroom eyes that made your stomach flutter. "Just admiring you~"

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He finds Little ones entertaining as hell, but as I said before, he wouldn't want one at home. That said, there are some pros and cons to Satoru being around children.

First of all, god forbid they play something competitive because Satoru Gojo isn't taking an L from a 6 year old, that's for sure. tag, hide and seek, pinball, Mario kart, he's crushing spirits in all of them.

Another thing, he treats kids like they're little adults, which is great from a respect standpoint, but not so great when they talk shit. He does not care if he hurts a kid's feelings if they say something rude.

"My mom says you're a Psychopath," the 10 year old says, grinning.

"Yeah? Well my mom says you suck, and also you're bad at math," Satoru says, sticking his tongue out.

On a similar note of taking children too seriously, playing pretend is an art form to him. A friend's kid wants to play magical fairy princesses? He IS a magical fairy princess. His name is Vanessa and he has a magic wand made of glitter and dreams.

Yeah, he thinks kids are the best from an entertainment standpoint, but he knows he's not responsible enough to have any...at least not yet.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's a morning person to his core, not because he needs to be super efficient and get a ton done, but because he just wakes up early and can't take the time to fall back asleep, especially when you're right next to him. Why try and sleep when he could pick on you?

If you're a morning person like him, you probably wake up around the same time, and get ready for the day together. Washing up, getting dressed, eating. If you're into working out, you two go on little work out morning dates.

If you're a night owl, he will pester the hell out of you until you do, kissing your neck and mumbling in your ear and flipping you around in all different directions. If your willpower is strong, and you don't get out of bed, he will first snap a ton of photos of you before getting up himself and getting his day started.

It depends on what time you wake up, but you could find that the apartment is empty from him going to work out, or full with the sound of him simply living. You usually find breakfast made for you, all 5 food groups, sometimes you eat together sometimes you don't get the chance to.

"Had to go to work early, you're hot love, Your Perfect Boyfriend"

That note was placed neatly over a little metal box, the contents being a warm waffle with chocolate sauce and berries. The sauce still had it's structure despite sitting in a metal container with a hot waffle, meaning he just left.

Damn it...he is perfect.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Every night with Satoru is different, It all depends on how both of your days went. If work was especially hard for either of you, the night would consist of at home activities, like playing videogames or watching a movie.

If you both had a bit of an easier day, especially over the weekend, you went on dates, and that could be anything. It ranged from going to a park and walking around, from going to a Michelin star restaurant and eating something deconstructed.

Of course, no matter what it was, dessert was happening at a place that was made for dessert. Patisseries, Ice creameries, cookie shops, whatever it was, it was always a part of the date.

"You're so gorgeous," Satoru sighed dreamily, resting his chin on his hand.

"Well you're gorgeous too," You laughed, looking up at him. "Although, I do think I can do better than sweats," you said, looking down at yourself.

You both were sitting on the couch, waiting for Mario Kart to boot up as you ate some gelato Satoru stocked up on during his trip to Italy.

"Nahhhh. 'S perfect."

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You still don't know everything about him. After so many years, friends to best friends to lovers, he still hasn't told you everything. You can probably think of one time he's been open with you, after going out and getting drinks with the usually sober Satoru. You remember having to cut yourself off early in order to care for him, calling the night and taking him home.

He ended up sat on the floor, back to the wall as he was wheezing at how the word "company" sounded like it started with a different word, his head on your shoulder.

After he calmed down, he said, "Y'know, I don't deserve you," he laughed, smiling at you with a red face.

"What're you talking about," you said with a nervous chuckle. "You do..."

"No, nonononono, 's ok, I don't," He said hurriedly, putting his hand on your shoulder. "I mean, you're actually too good for me," he slurred, looking into your eyes.

"What do you mean? what makes you so 'unworthy'?"

"Mmnnnnnn...have you killed someone?" He got all serious, nose to nose with you, before whispering, "I did...It wasn't fun, but I hadta..."

He sounded sheepish, like he was scared. Gojo Satoru was scared.

You weren't as upset as you could have been, being a sorcerer meant you understood having to take...drastic measures. After light encouragement, you managed to get most of the story out...er, stories, plural. He has a checkered past, and while you're pretty sure he doesn't remember that conversation, you want him to feel like you can listen, and any time he wants to open up again, you'll be more than ready to.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has optional patience. He's not going to wait in a line without some sort of entertainment for longer than 5 minutes, but he also is willing to work tirelessly for years and years to reach a goal. He just can't stand doing nothing, he needs to be doing something always.

Now, if it came to anger, he has the patience of a saint. When you get to the level of power he has, getting angry over something below the injury of loved one just felt stupid to him. Now, if you get into a fight, he does get worked up (obviously), but he doesn't get mad so much as frustrated. "Ah, shit," he sighed, sounding nothing more than peeved. You glanced over, eyes widening as you saw his piping hot coffee not in his mug, but in his lap.

"D...Doesn't that...hurt?"

"Me? Nah," He says, standing to go change.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He's weird because he pretends like he knows nothing, but it seems like he truly knows everything. If you challenged him to some game where you quiz him on the things he knows about you, he's walking away with first place. He just likes listening to you talk about your interests. You told him about your favorite show 3 years ago and he remembers the entire plot, but...

"Hey, have you heard about [enter show here]?" He was sitting on the couch, remote in hand.

"Oh, yeah! God, I used to love that show," you said excitedly, walking over and sitting next to him.

"Yeah? What's it about?" He's so in love with you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment is when he realized he's in love in you. He remembers the day clearly, you two were messing around with some weak curses, or at least weak to you, and he noticed then that you could keep up with him.

YOU could keep up with HIM.

It's not like he thought you were weak or anything, he just couldn't believe that there was another on his level. It's lonely at the top, and he came to terms with that, but the idea that he could have someone joining him was kind of mind blowing.

Maybe this wasn't when he realized he loved you, but it was when he realized he was allowed to.

"What," you ask him, laughing a little as you land a deadly blow on a curse before he could. He was just staring at you, a mixture of curiosity and adoration on his face.

He just turned and smiled, laughing a little to himself. "Nothin'..."

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He knows you don't need him to protect you, and for the most part he rather enjoys that, but he will get defensive over you when it comes to the slander of your name. Physically, you can handle yourself, and he knows that if someone were to be rude to you directly, you could handle yourself, but when someone is talking about you when you're not around, you can't defend yourself. That's where he comes in, your very own security guard.

He's not normally an aggressive person, you don't really like that side of him, and so if you're not there to see it, it's like it never happened.

"(Y/N)? Ugh, I hate that class...yeah, exactly! Right, sooo annoying... I just can't stand- Exactly...! And always getting of track..."

A girl on the phone, a brand new student at the Kyoto Sister school where you worked. Satoru was visiting to eat lunch with you. Lucky him, to over hear something like this.

He catches up to her, only needing to take a couple long steps.

"Oh! Are you a student of (Y/N)," he asks cheerfully. She was immediately weak in the knees, it was inevitable given his looks and status.

"Uhhhhh, yeah! Sir!" Meanwhile, her friend on the other line kept saying, "Is that Gojo Satoru? Are you talking to Gojo Satoru?!"

"I know (Y/N), actually," He said, looking down at the girl with a smile, the angry glare in his eyes hidden behind his mask.

"Really," she asks absently, before looking between him and the phone in realization. "W- uh, I was just-"

"What's your name?" The two of them stopped walking, Satoru's cheerful tone taking an underpainting of malice.

"uhm...A-Ayako..."

"Ayako..." He repeats, committing the name to memory.

"You don't go here anymore, Okay Ayako?"

Her jaw drops, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in his words.

"You...You can't- I didn't- That's not fair and-"

"Yeahhhh, it sucks, huh? you just weren't Jujutsu High material, sorry," he says apathetically, perhaps even joyfully, walking off to eat lunch with the love of his life.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He doesn't try because doing things for you is effortless for him. I went into dates a lot in M and N, so I won't be touching on that so much here.

Anniversaries are always filled with gifts and outings, so much so that you feel inadequate trying to provide for him in that area. You could get him tons of seemingly perfect gifts, and yet somehow he still outdid you. He didn't mean to (mostly), he just really loved you and loved showing that.

To top it off, his reactions to your gifts aren't really all that grandiose. He tries, but you can tell it's feigned.

"Open it," you say excitedly, smiling wide as you hand him a black box. You were both sitting on the couch, it was his nary celebrated birthday, at least before you.

He sets the box on the coffee table before him and does so, inside a bottle of high end cologne.

"Wow," he says coolly, opening it and giving it a whiff. "Smells good," he muses sweetly, giving you a smile.

You groan, hanging your head with a wry laugh. "If you don't like it we can get it replaced," you sigh, smiling with some dissapointment.

"I do like it," he exclaims, moving to your side to comfort you with concern. "See, I'm gonna wear it, watch," he says, spritzing it on.

You laugh, he was so adorable.

Truly, he loves your gifts and puts them to use, but what really excites him is simply being with you. He likes taking the time to just be normal with you, or as close to normal as you guys can get.

He likes buying you stuff daily, small things like candy or some new lipstick, he just sees it and thinks of you. As I said before, he doesn't really try all that hard, he almost never has, and that's what's so great for him.

He used to worry about if he'd be able to even show his love for someone if he ever found himself in the situation, and to see that he's getting the message across with little strain is exciting to him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

What. A. Flake. You can never tell if he's going to turn up to important events, and if he does he's always late. The thing is, when he really cares he shows up punctually, which means he has the capability to be reliable. There have definitely been more meetings than you can count where you've had to cover for him, as well as fights he's been late for because he wants to make a grand entrance.

"where have you been," you chide in a hushed tone, watching as he casually plops down next to you. "I had to tell them you were having an emergency," you scoff, pinching his arm.

"You did?" He looks at the annoyed expressions of his bosses and coworkers, cocking his head slightly with a sly grin. "Yeah, no, I wasn't, just didn't feel like coming," he admits carelessly, shrugging. Idiot.

Relationship wise, he's had some issues with respect. He sometimes treats you and your issues like they're unimportant, and maybe they are, but dammit they're important to you! He got better about this eventually, but not after tons of hardheaded arguments about this ugly trait.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

if I had to pick one word to describe Satoru...well, it'd be cocky, but if I had to pick another it'd be effortless. He doesn't take concern with his looks because he needs to do nothing to look so good. That's just how he is, and he knows it. He places some amount of value in his appearance, but overall he's not too vain. He has confidence, is all.

"Man, You sure are lucky to have such a hot boyfriend," Satoru sighs sarcastically, teasing his hair in the mirror while you put on your shoes.

"Yeah? You sayin' I couldn't get one normally," you ask tauntingly, raising your brows.

"Hey..." he says, knowing he had fallen into a trap.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He wants so dearly to not need you, but he knows he does. He knows he just might break if he loses you. You're his other half, you make him whole. A break up, he could handle, because there was still the hope of having you back, but if you died...

I can't write an example of this, I can't do it justice. The pain, the absolute and ineffable pain of losing yet another of the few people he got close to would eat him away until there's nothing left, and you just can't put that, in all of its horrific beauty, in simple words.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

a little something xtra for you...He loves his mask and sunglasses for the extra benefit of not being exposed for staring at you. His eyes are constantly on you, figuratively or literally, and if he were anyone else he wouldn't be able to take down his enemies with you there because of how distracted he would be. He was him, though, and he could very much multitask. He also has a habit of flirting or messing with you during meetings, taking down curses, training, really at any time.

Satoru, on the other side of the meeting table, was stretched out, arms behind his head. His foot was touching yours, it was kind of cute in a way.

Then, he nudged your ankle a little, and you looked over at him with curiosity. He didn't look at you, keeping his eyes on who was speaking. You nudged him back, and he smiled, which means he did that on purpose.

He nudges you, you nudge him.

Then the nudging becomes playful kicking.

Then the playful kicking becomes competitive kicking.

Then the competitive kicking becomes getting scolded by both of the headmasters.

His grin never leaves his face.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

First of all, greek yoghurt pisses him off. Yoghurt should be sweet and frozen, and nothing else. Give him greek yoghurt, god forbid he takes a bite because the unpleasant surprise will lead to half an hour of talking about how horrible it is. Yuck.

More seriously, he doesn't like people who think they're better than they are. He deals with them frequently, in the form of stupid curses trying to take him on, and he takes pleasure in putting them in their place.

He's of the mind that He earned being cocky, because he's actually just that powerful and good at everything, and therefore anyone else that's cocky has to earn it too.

when it comes to humans he can't eradicate, he simply shows off his power with as much leisure as possible, just to prove he's a million times better than the offending.

"Guess what," Satoru says on the phone, his smile audible.

'What," you ask cheerfully, knowing a good story was coming, or at least one he thinks is good.

"So I was fighting this curse, right?"

"Right..."

"Well, it was already annoying because it was stupidly weak, but it still came after me, and this thing..."

He kept talking, going on and on about how weak and annoying the thing was, and you simply smiled as you listened. Adorable.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He's a complete bed hog, he takes up all the space you give him. He starfishes out, snoring like a vacuum cleaner, and when he's not doing that he's tossing and turning.

The only remedy for this was, surprisingly, getting closer. If you sleep next to him, he can't sprawl out. If you sleep holding onto his arm, his limbs on that side of his body are still for the rest of the night. If you lay with your head on his chest, making sure you fall asleep with his arms around you...all of him stays still and in one spot. A couple other poses work for this too, spooning of any kind, a honeymoon hug, things where you're practically fused together. Summer is a hard time for you two.

Another thing he does is mumble in his sleep. It's nothing too crazy, most of the time unintelligible, but every once in a while you can hear some keywords. You've found that whatever's most prominent in his life at the time is what he talks about. You don't really get any insight to how his mind works or anything, it's just a cute habit of his.

"Mmmn...Zzz...donrelgtothedohmvie...."

You smile, letting out a little puff of laughter from your nose as you strain to hear him.

"Yogottabkddngmbaby...."

Baby! That was a word.

You tried listening in for more, but you really heard nothing else...nothing else, of course, besides your name.

Ok, this took my like a month, which is wayyy longer than my usual stuff.

and, if we're being honest... ᴵ ᴴᶦᵗ ¹⁰⁰ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ² ʷᵉᵉᵏˢ ᵃᵍᵒ

but I'm only a few over so it still counts!? Love you, get ready for the next thing, and Let me know how this was and if you agree or disagree with my headcannons!

#read!! #this was really good!

[scamsz]

The Gojo’s Video Diaries

Series Masterlist

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Synopsis: Recordings of the strongest sorcerer’s life with you throughout the years.

2005-2006 | First Year:

Video 0.1

2006-2007 | Second Year:

2007-2008 | Third Year:

#tbr

[scamsz]

symptoms and causes | m.list

we aren't perfect, we never will be. still, i chose you.

ღ pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ status ongoing (no schedule)

ღ wc 136 k / ??

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature and dark themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst w happy ending, family drama, panic attacks, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ additional things age difference, student-teacher relationship, university, surgeries, dark content, satoru is a green flag with a lot of issues, he falls first & falls so hard it'll probably destroy him, he's a bit stupid and insane, you're brilliant, complicated relationships, chaos, alcohol, smoking, geto is also a hot surgeon

playlist + ao3 + wattpad

ღ taglist open (just comment)

ღ chapters

chapter 01 | stepping into the surgeon's circle

chapter 02 | bandaid

chapter 03 | shattered porcelain

chapter 04 | flowers and rain

chapter 05 | consume

chapter 06 | after every decision

chapter 07 | old friends

chapter 08 | setting sun

chapter 09 | dying light

chapter 10 | nightmare

chapter 11 | bleed

chapter 12 | tethered to you

more to come...

ღ headcanons

professor!gojo headcanons | sfw + nsfw

professor!geto headcanons | sfw + nsfw

ღ aesthetics

professor!gojo | aesthetics

professor!gojo | what he wears

professor!geto | what he wears

y/n aesthetics | what she wears

© lostfracturess. pls do not copy, repost, translate or alter my work.

#tbr

[scamsz]

NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex/creampie, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulder, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on the school’s ground as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and from its marvellous glow, it cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on school grounds chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows. 

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you both away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffle you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“—Two years, by force.” 

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!” 

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.  

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over to show you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009 

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the glee of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school campus when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and exclamations after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it’s with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you could always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly. Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…” There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now… “They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart Alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, she’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was different this time.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmful, right? 

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face. You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye, you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sa—” Fuck. You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you.“Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!” 

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat.“Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har har.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands. Inside, was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone being at the centre of the flower. 

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal. Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it. For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute. 

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course, he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 

But something’s up. His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head anyway and toss it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.” 

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that—

“…Yeah, why—”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You— IDIOT!” 

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound 

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read this far, we're fucking making out.

#read!!

[scamsz]

YOU WRITE SO GOOD, LIKE HELLO??? YOUR WRITING STYLE IS SO GORGEOUS AND YUMMY, LIKE CAN I EAT IT? PLS PLS PLS??? But no joke, your writing style is literally so gorgeous 😭 like it's so detailed and all? How do you do that??😵‍💫 The gore?? The emotions? The wording?? Gosh, please take my money and enslave me queen, i am nothing but a loyal servant that shall kiss the ground that you step on🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️BTW, can i get some jjk fanfics recommendations?? You write so good so you probably read good stuff too hehe😈

Masterlist

Dang, you're boosting my ego, pooks, and that’s not good ‘cause i have a high ego n’ i’m a Satoru kinnie /j

Thanks for the love! Just gotta let those words spill out, you know? Honestly, it’s all about pouring my heart into it and letting the words flow💀💀 and I feel more comfortable with writing things this way and i have high standards in writing so i tend to make it descriptive since I’m having a hard time understanding things if it's too simple and not detailed😔😔😔 it’s a struggle yk?

BUT STILL, THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AGAIN ANONNN,AAAAAA ILY🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻 YOU’VE SERIOUSLY MADE MY DAY!!🫶🏻😚

Sending loads of love and kisses to youuu🫶🏻

Here’s my recommendations, and I swear you won’t regret reading them cause they’re all top tiers!

Corpse Darling —this one is my FAV broo, made me cry and made me go through roller coaster of emotions frr, it’s written SO WELL, and it’s so elegant, the writing style is gorg and everything+ a must if you like reading abt male readers🫶🏻 IF YOU LIKE READING ANGSTY BOOKS THEN THIS!! (kagura is literally the best!!)

The Contortionist — LITERALLY SO GOOD, LIKE THE EMOTIONS, THE READER IS SO FUNNY AT THIS AND IS OVERALL A VERY GOOD BOOK RAHHH

The Fuck List— ONE OF MY FAVORITES TOO,IF YA LIKE THEM SMUTTY FICS THEN THIS IS FOR YOUU! EVERYTHING IN THIS IS LITERALLY A 5 STAR MEAL, I’M TELLIN’ YOU!!

Other Husband — This one is so good too, one of my favs fr fr, AAAA SUGURU’S SO HOT IN THIS 😍😍 IF YOU LOVE CORALINE TOO THEN THIS IS A MUST READ!!

Love Bombing— I SWEAR, the mc of this is different and refreshing, and karma is real in this + it’s written very well and i’m literally hooked (I’m watching you blade, ya better gimme my kagehikari @terrorbladewho )

Tsunami & Bloodflood— TOTALLY MY FAVORITE, IF YOU’RE INTO AN UNHINGED MEN AND YOU’RE INTO MC’S WHO WERE WEAK AT FIRST THEN PROCEEDS TO GET STRONGER, THEN THIS IS A MUST!! THE YANDERE’S IN THIS R SO GOOD, YOU WON’T REGRET READING THIS 🫶🏻 A MUST IF YOU LIKE OC FICS🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hollow Element— This is so good too + it’s written so well and is an overall a gorgeous fanfic aaa, one of the best JJK FICS THAT I HAVE READ

Cursed Prisoner— THIS ONE IS SO GOOD LIKE, EVERYTHING AND IS MY FAV TOO, LIKE, IF YOU’RE INTO READER INSERTS WHERE THEY’RE A CERTAIN CHARACTER (LIKE FOR EXAMPLE; MITSURI! READER) OR SOMETHING, THEM THIS IS FOR YOU

Otherwordly Attraction— THIS ONE IS JUST *CHEF’S KISS* IF YOU LOVE ISEKAI TROPES THEN THIS ONE IS FOR YOU!

Runaways— IF YOU'RE INTO CROSSOVERS THEN THIS IS A MUST READ!

EHE THEY’RE ALL MY FAVS<33 if you want to read some other fics that aren’t jjk then just check my library on quotev and reading list on wattpad hehe🫶🏻 THAT’S ALL, LOVE YA POOKS.

#tbr

[scamsz]

geto suguru x afab!reader

just before starting college, you find out you’re pregnant. you and your boyfriend are rightfully terrified. but once the initial shock is over, and both of you come to accept it, the truth comes to light— and it’s not a good one. was it tequila, or vodka?

warnings: set in jjk universe so curses and sorcerers exist, but geto doesn’t spiral and no shibuya or culling games or kenjaku. heavy drinking. pregnancy. drama, angst — a cheating cheater is amongst the midst — toxic behavior and situations.

warnings will be placed at the beginning of each chapter regardless !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ one ! i’m not surpised

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ two ! i don’t feel so good

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ three ! just so you know…

… coming soon …

comment to be added to the taglist !

© accidentcache do not repost or alter my work without permission

#tbr

[scamsz]

your only competition - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: constantly trying to one up each other, youre always at each others throat. swearing you hate the other, neither want to admit that you might enjoy your time spent together. until... ✧ cw: academic rivals, some swearing, poorly written combat scenes (sorry), injuries, mentions of blood, bickering, some angst, slight comfort, no use of y/n, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 5.0k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Satoru Gojo was the best, in every sense of the word. Being the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes definitely counted for something. And so he began to excel well beyond his classmates, fairly enjoying the spotlight that went with his rare abilities. Wasn’t it always nice to get recognition for your achievements? Satoru thought so at least.

Sitting alone at the top, he was sent on solo missions for curses his peers couldn’t face. That was, of course, until the day you showed up. He didn’t know it at the time, but that warm September day you walked into the classroom would be burned into his memory for as long as he’d live.

Everyone’s heads had perked up when an unfamiliar individual had paraded into the classroom, following close behind Yaga. You'd held your head high, hands tucked neatly behind your back while Yaga introduced you as the new student. It had to be a joke, Satoru had thought, a snicker playing on his lips at the sight of you. Gathering as much information as he could just by letting his eyes travel you, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of cursed energy, so why were placed in their class?

Your eyes shined with a childlike innocence, like you were totally unaware of the world you were all living in. One could feel you radiate a sense of hope that only came from being inexperienced. Oh, how hard the harsh reality would hit you once you were faced with what was out there.

After class, Shoko had yanked Satoru back into the classroom by his uniform, her eyebrows furrowed in a strict scowl. “I know what you’re thinking, Satoru.” He stared back at her with big eyes, pretending he didn’t know what she was getting at. “She’s been sheltered, we all saw it. So it’s important you behave!”

“I always behave.” He slumped over as he spoke, appearing more weakly to enforce his dumb act.

“I mean it, Satoru. She’s going to need our help.”

He took his index finger and drew an X over his heart. “You have my word.” His infamous smirk still danced on his lips, which made Shoko not believe him for a second. She knew there wasn’t much she could do if he’d already decided to tease you. With a disappointed shake of the head, she left him standing with his hands in his pockets.

Satoru kept his eye on her until she had turned a corner. The second she was out of sight, he darted in the opposite direction with a clear mission in mind, managing to catch up with you as you were walking down the hall to your dormitory.

“Hey, wait up.” With a curious look, you turned to the source of the voice that called your name. Pacing towards you, was a tall, lanky fellow with locks white as snow, the biggest shit-eating grin you’d seen in a long time, wearing a pair of characteristic sunglasses.

“You must be the one and only Satoru Gojo,” you said, mirroring his expression as you defensively crossed your arms over your chest.

“I see Yaga already told you about me.”

“No, not really,” you shrugged, your tone taking him by surprise. “But it’s not like your name is unknown in our world.”

“So what have you heard about me then?” He bent forward to be on your level, fishing for compliments, making you feel patronised.

“Don’t feel like inflating your ego more. It’s already dangerous walking around with a head big as yours.” Satoru instantly jerked back into a straight position, retrieving his hands from his pockets to regain a more dominant position.

“Well, aren’t you cute,” he said sarcastically.

“Was there something you wanted?”

Looking down on you, he began to wonder if you were putting on a face, intentionally giving off the impression of being reckless and empty headed. Therefore he had started to theorise the bounce in your step didn’t come from being inexperienced; it came from a film belief that you were better than what people gave you credit for.

“It not every day a new sorcerer joins us, so I’m just curious about what makes you special?” The self satisfied smirk was back on his face in order to seem unbothered by your snarky remarks.

“What’s it to you?” Fuck you, was the first thought that crossed his mind when you’d once again, shut him down. You weren’t giving him anything to go on, not verbally or on any level his Six Eyes could detect.

“We’re classmates now. A team — think I could benefit from knowing,” he said gallantly.

“You’ll know soon enough,” you smirked at him as you began to back away towards your room.

His smile slowly faltered, his eyebrows narrowing in frustration. “Good luck.”

“Sure, thanks,” you waved nonchalantly over your shoulder as you entered your room without another word.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he still couldn’t pin point anything about you. The only logical explanation to having an ignorant demeanour whilst having a sharp tongue would be you were able to fend for yourself. Then why couldn’t he sense any power on you?

But as you’d said, he would find out soon enough. Even as soon as the next day, when you’d all met for sparring. It was like the higher ups had heard his prayers, because he had been paired up against you. His excitement didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who kicked him weakly in the shin to try and smother it.

“You go easy on her, mister,” she’d said so only he was able to hear.

“Don’t worry, Shoko. I’m not cruel. I’ll end it quickly so she won’t humiliate herself too much,.”

Once you were both firmly placed on your respective positions, both with a staff in your hands, he made sure to capture your gaze. “Are you ready for this, sweetheart?” His tone was as sweet as sugar, never breaking the eye contact as you both leaned forward in a bow.

“Are you, sweetheart?” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. He hummed softly at your comment, entertained by the attitude he knew he’d wipe off you the second the sparring started.

After being underestimated for years and years, you'd eventually had no choice but to learn how to use it to your advantage. You leaned into the role of an unintelligent girl who went into every situation without thinking. People became sloppy when they faced you, confident they’d easily take you out.

Satoru was no different. What was worse, was how he didn’t even try to hide how sure he was that you were weak. His smile said it all.

Yaga signalled for you to start, instantly tightening your grip on your staff before striking it directly at him. He was a little startled at how you immediately went for the offensive, but he swiftly dodged the attack just as you had expected. You exploited his dodge, by having the staff spin around before smacking him in the back of the head, stumbling over the foot you had strategically placed in front of him.

Tumbling forward, he finally managed to steady himself only to be faced by Suguru and Shoko standing on the sidelines, both choking back the laughter about to spill out of them. None of the three students had expected you to be so aggressive from the get go, let alone succeed at it.

He shook off the shock, not to mention the pain, from the hit before turning back to look at you. The playfulness had seized to exist and now there was determination written all over him. The corner of your lips perked up in a content smirk.

His staff came piercing through the air, you spun away in the last second before flipping the staff and deflecting his next move, trapping his weapon under yours. You turned to look at him and he didn’t like the mischievous expression plastered on your face.

“What are you playing at?” He asked with a small pant. Your smile only grew at the sight of his frustrated demeanour.

This was the part you loved, the moment you could see it in your opponent’s eyes that they had severely misjudged you. And in their epiphany, you knew they still wouldn’t be able to read you clearly. That being said, you were fighting no other than Satoru Gojo, who even if he couldn’t predict your next move, could be able to take you out regardless.

Suddenly, you felt your staff slip and glide against his. He quickly took advantage of how you’d put your weight on the staff. Before you knew it, you felt the impact of his staff slam against your back.

You found your footing before you reactively threw your elbow at his face. A scoff of surprise slipped out of you when it stopped an inch from his face without him doing anything.

“Asshole,” you breathed. This was the oh-so-famous infinity you had been told about, but you didn’t quite understand it or how it worked. It was no secret that Satoru was well on his way to become the strongest, but he wasn’t there just yet. So maybe you could give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he wasn’t a hundred percent in control of his infinity, that it had been an instinctive reaction.

Nevertheless, it was what you had waited for. You’d wanted him to be the one to resort to his powers first so you could shamelessly use yours.

His breath hitched in his throat when an overwhelming wave of unfamiliar power crashed over him. “What the-“ he didn’t understand what was happening. Was this your power, and why hadn’t he been able to sense it earlier? Had you really been able to block him out from getting insight in your technique?

He didn’t even realise what was happening until he was jerked into the air before slamming against the floor with immense force, landing on his shoulder. The room were quiet for a solid ten seconds before he staggered back on his feet before slow claps in your honour was heard from his friends.

“What the hell was that?” He panted, approaching you with quick steps as his hand rubbed circles on his shoulder.

“That was how you win,” you said in between heavy breaths, leaning your hands on your knees.

“That’s not what I mean,” he nearly growled. Before he was able to interrogate you further, a friendly slap was placed on his back.

“Just admit it, Satoru. She beat you,” Suguru said with a low chuckle. Satoru didn’t even flinch, he kept his gaze pinned on you.

“But you cheated,” he said with a displeased chuckle. You didn’t even entrain his comment, only turning away from him and starting to walk out of the gymnasium. “Hey, I’m talking to you. That last move was dirty.” You heard his footsteps hurry over to you again.

“How’s that?” Snapping around to face him, folding your arms over your chest. “By using my technique? If that’s the case, you’re nose should be bleeding right now.”

With worried eyes, Shoko and Suguru watched your bickering from afar, knowing exactly how this relation was going to play out. The loud argument in the gymnasium was only the beginning of your rivalry. Every person unfortunate enough to witness your public displays of hatred, quickly learned that both you and Satoru were extremely headstrong — maybe stubborn was a better word.

Both of you brought your petty arguing with you into the classroom the first chance you got. It became a never ending competition of who could answer the questions faster. And if the chance offered itself, you would instantly argue with the other person to the best of your ability. No one could tell if you did it to show off who knew the most, or if it was simply to humiliate the other. Either way, it got annoying fast.

Yaga had on several occasions tried to shut down the fighting, but had little success. You would both find one way or another to go at each other anyways. On one occasion, you’d gotten into a fight so bad that Yaga had ordered for the rest of them to leave the room and just let you two hash it out. He’d come back an hour later, only to see through the door crack that you were still going at it. He also saw how Satoru was fighting to let his smugness show, clearly getting a kick out of provoking you until you were red as a tomato.

“Are you really that stupid, Satoru?”

“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, shut up!”

The only place Shoko and Suguru managed to catch a break was during sparring, when they would sneak out for cigarettes the second you and Satoru said the first word to each other.

In every session, neither of you accepted going against anyone but each other. After your first sparring match, Satoru was determined to win the next one, which he did. And how he had won would probably haunt you forever.

You were just about to win yet another match, but it troubled you that Satoru didn’t seem worried about losing. You had the staff pressed against his, sweat dripping down your brow. He was heaving as much as you, but a small smirk was lurking at the corner of his lips.

That’s when he cocked his head forward, revealing the pair of most hypnotising blue eyes you’d ever seen. You had no control of how your muscles relaxed and expression softened. As a soft sigh slipped out of you, he instantly saw his opportunity to down you, knocking the wind out of your lungs when you’d hit the floor.

You'd gone to bed fuming that night, the image of Satoru laughing and teasing you flashing behind your eyelids as you so desperately tried to fall asleep. You were absolutely mortified by the fact that he’d won simply by his appearance; no combat skill, no infinity, no technique, no nothing!

The next morning you got up at the crack of dawn in order to work out and prepare yourself for the next time you’d face him. Never again would you give him the opportunity to embarrass you like that.

Neither is you would probably admit it, but as the training went on, you both learned a lot from each other. Especially when you began to make use of your powers.

Finally you were starting to understand how the most powerful sorcerer functioned, absolutely astonished by the sheer possibility of it. But as you got to know him more, you also so that his powers wouldn’t have been nearly as special if it hadn’t been for Satoru himself. The extraordinary way he so casually carried himself despite of it all, you couldn’t help but admire it. Though you wouldn’t let him know that.

Satoru too, was intrigued by you because it was only during sparring sessions he was able to see what your cursed technique could be capable of. Outside the gymnasium, you kept the cards close to your chest, revealing absolutely nothing about yourself. But in here, you let that shield down. The power you held was so intense, to the point he knew you were definitely holding back on him — just as he was with you.

As the matches got more intense, Suguru and Shoko kept betting the same 1000 yen on who would win. Not only that, they both seemed to notice the growing tension between you, despite the fact that you said you couldn’t stand each other.

And tension there was, as right now. Satoru had his arm around your neck, pressing against your chest. You had your hands tugging on his forearm as your back was pushed up against him. Cursing his name under your breath, you fought the small smile that was sneaking its way onto your face.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you felt him lean in forward, his hot breath agains your ear before he spoke, “think I like you in this position better.” If you weren’t so focused on trying to beat him, you would probably have paid more attention to the flirtation in his voice.

In a matter of seconds, you benefitted from his playfulness and reversed the roles where you had him pinned against the ground in defeat. “Don’t go soft on me now, Satoru. Ain’t going to be any fun here anymore if you make it too easy.”

“I’m just trying to get in your head.”

“Hmm, funny. Doesn’t seem like it’s working,” you teased before you stood up without offering him a helping hand.

Satoru had his eyes follow you the entire way out of the gymnasium, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. He quickly snapped back to reality when he heard Suguru’s voice.

“Satoru!”

Turning to look at his friends, there was no signs of the smile that was present just a second ago. “What?”

“We called your name like four times!” Neither of them looked pleased, Shoko with her arms crossed over her chest and high shoulders, and Suguru with his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, was just lost in thought.”

“We can tell,” Shoko sighed as they both began to follow him close behind as he walked for the exit of the gymnasium.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Suguru teased, instantly earning him a tired scoff from Satoru. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Give it a rest.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s a menace. You know I think so.”

“Yeah? Could have fooled us,” he shrugged in response.

“What do you mean?” Shoko and Suguru shared a quick glance in question if he was playing dumb or if he actually didn’t know what they were getting at.

“When you’re not seeking her out to argue, then you do not shut up about her.”

He tried to shrug them off. “Because she gets on my last nerve.”

“No, Satoru, you don’t get it,” Shoko interrupted him, clearly annoyed. “If you disliked her as much as you say you do, you’d think you would want as little to do with her as possible.”

“Everyone complains about people they don’t like.”

“Every once in a while, sure. But it’s all the god damn time!”

Satoru just shook his head, trying to shake off their accusations. “Whatever it is you’re getting at, you can drop it. You’ve never been more off.”

With a deep sigh, Shoko turned to Suguru with a stern look in hopes he could get him to realise how absolutely insufferable he had been since you'd arrived. The second they managed to peer him away from throwing insults in your direction, he went on to complain about anything you’d done. Your answers in class were stupid, your technique when training was sloppy, you had immense power but didn’t know how to use it.

But the absolute worst was when you and Satoru had been on missions. Seeing as the two of you were significantly stronger than the rest of them, you were often sent on more demanding missions just the two of you, on several occasions facing special grade curses.

When both Suguru and Shoko were present, there was only so much new information Satoru could provide them with. But if you were gone for a day or two, there was no shutting him up. He went on and on about whatever curse you met and went into detail about what you’d done to exorcise them. To anyone listening, it sounded like he admired every move you made, throwing in random, cruel remarks just to keep up the image of hatred.

“Look, if you can tell yourself you talk so much about her because you hate her, fine. But how do you explain the looks,” Suguru continued the discussion.

“Looks?” Shoko swore she could punch him.

“You can’t be serious?” He huffed.

Truth was, Satoru was fully aware of how his gaze lingered on you for a second too long. He knew he couldn’t help but smile whenever he saw you thrive in battle, whether in practice with him or on missions. And whenever your skin got in contact with his, he became idiotically aware of himself.

But he could never in a million years admit that. Not after being so adamant in his disdain for you. “You guys are reaching,” he said with his characteristic, cocky chuckle as he began to walk away. “She’s my only real competition. It’s only fair I stay on top of it so she doesn’t surpass me.”

His friends only scowled at him as he exited the gymnasium. “1000 yen they’re sleeping together in a month.”

“Nah, you’re winning that bet,” Shoko said with a defeated chuckle.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Satoru couldn’t understand what had happened. He was only staring empty at Yaga, the ringing in his ears completely blocking out his words, feeling his mouth run dry.

The last thing he remembered was Shoko’s frantic voice on the phone, telling him to hurry back to Jujutsu High. He’d only ever heard her voice that panicked a handful of times before; she was usually so calm and collected.

He’d wasted no time getting back, being rushed by both Suguru and Yaga the second he had set foot within the premises. The first thing he’d noticed was Suguru limping and clutching his stomach while his lip was bloodied.

Oh no.

“You alright?” He’d asked weakly, as he has begun to place the pieces together.

Suguru simply nodded with a wince in pain. “I’m fine, but Satoru-“

“You both made it back, right?” He tried to smother the desperation in his voice.

“Yes, but-“

Satoru had already begun to zone out, realising what they were about to tell him. He knew you and Suguru had gone on a mission— a mission which was originally meant for you and him.

However, last minute the higher ups had decided Satoru had to go on a solo mission. Though he had tried to argue, they had been very adamant. The only deal he had managed to make with them was for Suguru to go with you so you didn’t find yourself alone on a mission intended for the two of you.

“Satoru.” Though somewhat muffled, he managed to make out Suguru calling his name again.

“What happened?”

Suguru struggled to form the words, only stuttering a few sounds before Yaga jumped in to explain. “The curse that met them was special grade, not first grade like we first thought.”

“Okay, but she should be able to-“

“Satoru, you didn’t see it. It was unlike anything we’ve faced before,” Suguru finally managed to form a sentence as he could hear the stress start to appear in the voice of his best friend.

“No, but you’re both strong. Next to me, you’re the strongest!” He was starting to get severely anxious, his heart beating faster and faster. It was only made worse by how they didn’t seem to give him all the information straight forward.

“She got me out first.”

“Wait, got you out first? Is she not here?”

“Satoru?” Shoko’s shallow voice drew their attention to her, as her head perked out the door. Slowly, she made her way over to them, genuine concern on her face.

“Can someone please tell me what happened?” He pleaded, turning restless by the way they were all looking at each other while he was still left in the dark.

“She managed to hold the curse at bay long enough for me to go in again and get her.”

“She’s stable for now, but I… I’m not sure when she’ll wake up.”

This couldn’t happen. You always knew what you were doing when you were out on missions. Never reckless, despite what one might think. You took every precaution imaginable, avoiding every risk that you might face.

So how come they were telling him that you’d taken one hell of a beating? He felt the only reasonable explanation was that this was a sick joke.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, before hesitatingly asking what he’d wanted since he arrived. “Can I see her?” Shoko simply nodded before leading him to the door, carefully opening it up for him. Slowly stepping into the dimly lit room, his eyes immediately landed on you.

The first thing to hit him was how he couldn’t sense your cursed energy, and not because you were blocking him out like you usually did. But you just felt weak, and he couldn’t ever recall seeing you so peaceful.

Laying completely still on your back, your covers only covering your legs revealing your bandaged torso, a tiny bloodstain seeping through. Your face was different shades of blue, evidence of the battle.

As much as both of you had faced strong curses before, you’d never been this beaten up before. He became a little nauseous at the sight, beginning to picture how every thing had gone down wherever it was you had been sent on mission.

He cautiously approached your bedside, scared that if he made any sudden moves or sounds that he would somehow make it worse, before sitting down on the chair beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely a whisper. The guilt had hit him like a truck, taking responsibility for not being there.

If he had wanted to, he knew he could have convinced the higher ups not to send him on that solo mission. And if so, he could have been there and helped— saved you.

Against all odds, through all the fighting and bickering, you had become a strong team. Neither of you would say it out loud, but somewhere along the line, you had both grown to care for each other. Satoru, however, hadn’t realised it until his breath had hitched in his throat at the sight of you so fragile.

As the days past, your wound healed and your bruises faded from your face, but you showed no signs of waking up. Satoru grew more impatient for each day that went by, especially when no one had any more answers to give.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I’ve done all that I can,” Shoko explained desperately almost on a daily basis, but he kept asking everyday.

Day in and day out, he sat in that damn uncomfortable chair, only occasionally pacing around the room for two minutes to stretch his legs before settling down in the chair again. He barely slept, so adamant on meeting your gaze when your eyes finally fluttered open.

“You gotta wake up soon,” he pleaded to deaf ears. Three weeks of waiting had been pure torture. “I need you to come back.” A somber chuckle left his lips.

Reluctantly, he dared to carefully grab your delicate hand in his. It was a weird sensation, as the only time he had felt your skin was when you were in combat training. Now it was soft and tender, letting his thumb glide graciously over the back of your hand.

“Do I have to beg you?” His voice was so careful, like he wasn’t able to let it out in its entirety. “If that’s what you’re trying to make me do, that’s not funny.”

Still nothing. Not a twitch in your eyelids, not your lips opening to speak, not your nose flaring as you took the first deep breath waking up.

“Wouldn't put it past you,” a faint smile reactively found its way onto his face. “Just please. Wake up.”

Dead silence filled the room, his eyes locked on your small hand resting in his. He didn’t realise his eyes had actually shed a tear until it hit your hand, his own intense emotions surprising him.

“You are going soft on me, sweetheart.” Satoru attention shot towards you, barely making out what you had groaned out. Muttering your name in shock, a self satisfied smirk grew on your lip. “Water, please,” you squealed before breaking out in coughs. Scrambling out of the chair, he clumsily filled you a glass of water.

“You’re awake.” His voice was so light, unlike how you were used to hearing it. Usually there was always a smirk to sense in his voice, constantly smug. But now he was so gentle, as he carefully placed his hand on your back to help you up before handing you the glass. You were so used to having his hands throw punches at you, it was a delightful change when he tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head as you drank.

“How long have I been out?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat before sitting back down in the chair. “A little over three weeks.”

Your eyes widened, another small cough escaping you. “Three weeks—“ a low whistle. “Bet you’ve surpassed me by far now.” You were only half joking, genuinely upset that you might have fallen behind. But, to your surprise, he gave you a nervous chuckle.

“Uhm, n-no,” he said before clearing his throat, shaking away his uneasiness. “Not really.”

“Okay? What have you been up to this whole time then?” The weak smile on your lips gradually faded when it dawned on you. With adoration glistening in your eyes, his gaze met yours. “Oh,” you spoke hoarsely. “You haven’t really sat here all the time, have you?”

“No, I’ve walked around the room a few times.” Blinking rapidly at him, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing. This only confirmed the suspicions you’d been too scared to even think, that there might have been stolen glances and smiles with intentions shared between the two of you.

Without mentioning it, he had intuitively taken your hand in his again. Your cheeks heating from the feeling of his compassionate touch, pleasantly surprised by how natural it felt to have him hold it.

“I should probably get Shoko-“ he was about to stand up, but tightened the grip on his hand to prevent him.

“Just-“ anxiously clearing your throat. “I feel fine, we can wait a little longer.” His eyes captured your glare and he had never looked at you with so much passion before, making your heart skip a beat. “Thank you for sitting with me.”

“Wanted to be there when you woke up,” a tired smile on his lips.

“I’m glad you were.”

“Me too.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n alright guys... "ill take a break from writing this week" im full of crap. so when I was 2k words deep, I rewrote the entire thing. then i just kept writing and writing, it never ended. i thought it was gonna be much shorter. had to perfrom some killing of darlings. when i finished it first it was like 5.3k words so.

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

#read!!

[scamsz]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

#read!!

[scamsz]

𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 *ೃ༄

All apocalypse chapters + expected release dates!!

SYPNOSIS. You and Satoru are one of the very few sole survivors of an apocalypse that broke out. After 5 years of surviving, you are sent to track down Satoru Gojo. You both are entwined by fate, names written in the stars. But that doesn't mean you both are fond of each other. What happens when the universe begins tangling your story with his? WARNINGS:Smut, smoking, mentions of drugs, violence, gore, cursing, death GENRE: Fluff + Angst, TLOU au, enemies to lovers, forbidden romance

Masterlist

ARC 1 - New Dawn

“For you, I’d steal the stars,”

01. Little surprise

02. Sunset ( PUSHED BACK)

03 Dusk 'Till Dawn ( PUSHED BACK)

04 Trapped ( PUSHED BACK )

05 Delicacy ( date undecided )

06 Companions ( date undecided )

ARC 2 - Orphic Lights (date undecided)

“You can’t just touch my soul and leave.”

(Number of chapters undecided)

ARC 3 - Moon Struck (date undecided)

“I broke my rules for you,”

(number of chapters undecided)

ARC 4 - Tainted Touches (date undecided)

“Just because we can’t be together doesn’t mean I can’t love you.”

(number of chapters undecided)

Tag list 6/100

please reblog and like! :)

#tbr

[scamsz]

❝ dying (for your love) ❞. . . ⇢ satoru gojo

˗ˏˋsummary: there’s never any time to think about your feelings for each other when you’re so focused on ensuring that you both live to see another day

˗ˏˋwc: 17.5k whew..

˗ˏˋcontains: gn!reader x gojo, zombie apocalypse au, slowburn, angst with a happy ending, descriptive violence, minor injuries, use of guns/other weapons, lots of physical touch, codependency, clingy gojo 🥺, heavy pining/yearning etc etc, sugu + shoko cameo, one (1) heated argument, cursing, suggestive language used near the end (MDNI)

˗ˏˋa/n: [inhales deeply] first of all, big big BIG THANK U to my beloved io @elusivemoon for beta reading this behemoth of a fic u r my rock fr i love u soo so bad. im also tagging @softgirlgonehaywire @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat and @anthoosies for hyping me up so much 🙈<3 + some more lovely beautiful friends tagged below bc this fic was in the works for a good minute now. i hope u all enjoy reading my longest word-vomit to date :3 and do let me know if there's anything i missed for the content warnings!!

extra: fic playlist by @elusivemoon + series mlist :3

you think you’re hearing the haunting moans of the undead echoing in the distance, or perhaps you’re simply imagining things — but it’s a constant reminder of the perilous world you now inhabit nonetheless. a world that succumbed to an epidemic, at the hands of a fatal illness that truthfully did nothing to really make you stay dead.

as the moonlight illuminates the path you and satoru are currently walking on, you have to rely heavily on your senses. the only sounds emitting from the two of you at the moment are that of crunching leaves underneath thick, dirt-covered boots and the occasional shuddering breath being exhaled. in the otherwise eerie silence, you both stand guard beside each other, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger as you trek through the dense forest.

a twig snaps underneath your feet, and in an instant satoru’s eyes are on you — gaze flitting up and down and all around your figure, double and triple checking that you’re out of harm's way. his free hand, the one not holding his weapon of choice, reaches out gingerly; he gently grabs your elbow,tugs once, and a soft “stay close,” is uttered from his lips. two words he finds himself saying to you almost every day.

you couldn’t possibly stand any closer to him, but you nod your head and match your steps with his anyway.

you occasionally glanced at him from your peripheral, unable to tear your eyes away from the man beside you. you both were once part of a small group of survivors — a mere 6 of you in total — but you’ve long since separated from them, though not fully by choice.

it was an ambush that ultimately cut your time with the others short. a large horde of zombies had appeared, and you didn’t have time to assess what was happening before you heard the sound of shots ringing out. one member of the group had gotten attacked, and two more were firing at the horde as they steadily approached. in a last minute effort to save yourselves the group had decided to split-up to divide and conquer, but you were unable to find them again after that.

that same day you had a close call when you turned your back to search for a familiar face, not having realized there was one zombie remaining that you didn’t kill. satoru had never run so fast in his life when he found you and spotted the creature behind you, unsheathing his gun with record speed just as rotting limbs extended in your direction. the sound of the bullet firing didn’t startle you nearly as much as the sight you were met with when you finally turned around — of gnarled, decaying flesh and bones, a mere inches away from your own skin. up close and way too personal for your own liking.

satoru was running on pure adrenaline and fear after that. by the time he reached you, he only remembers hastily grabbing your hand and running in the opposite direction when a part of the horde began to approach the sound of the shot he fired. the two of you never looked back, and to this day neither of you know if the others survived or not.

what you do know is that satoru saved your life that day, and that you both need each other more than either of you realize. there’s never any time to think about the implications of that, though. not when every day is a fight for survival on such a nightmarish landscape.

but that doesn’t affect how he cares for you, nor you him. it’s displayed through subtle actions each day, where you both cling to each other even as you walk with your weapons drawn. how you both subconsciously seek each other out in the night as you sleep, hands tightly clasped together as if you were both afraid the other would float away in their sleep. how every moment is built on a profound trust in one another.

it’s a silent promise that you’ll stay at each other’s side, facing whatever horrors await the two of you.

another twig snaps, though this time it’s not by fault of either of you. you and satoru immediately stop in your tracks, and his hand automatically finds yours as he grips it tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. you’d have probably gotten a little flustered because of his instinct to hold you close if a fear of the unknown wasn’t currently crawling up your throat instead.

by now you’re no stranger to fear, but even the familiarity wouldn’t ever help you get used to the way it makes your stomach sink into your guts.

with bated breaths, you and satoru exchange a glance. it’s quiet, maybe too quiet. you hope satoru’s hearing is better than yours right now, because you can feel your heart thrumming loudly in your ear drums to the beat of the paralyzing emotion overtaking your whole being.

there’s a rustle in the bushes, and just as quickly as you heard it, one of satoru’s weapons is drawn. it’s a small rifle he carries with him, though he has no real intention of firing the noisy weapon right now at least — he knows better than to do so in the middle of a dense forest at night, with you beside him nonetheless. he would never risk your life like that.

satoru takes a small step forward, maneuvering his body to be half shielding yours as he did. even though you have your own weapon ready — a baseball bat fashioned with barbed wire wrapped all around the barrel — satoru was the one to move first, all with the intention of ensuring your own safety. you can take care of yourself, for sure, and he knows that you’re more than capable, but he does it anyway. you think it’s likely for his own peace of mind, but you never question it.

looking out for each other is simply an unspoken agreement the two of you have. you never needed to ask him to stand in front of you or hold you when you’re feeling anxious because he simply does it anyway. just as you do him.

another rustle comes from the bushes, and this one is more prominent, unmistakeable. satoru tightens his grip on the rifle, though you wonder what he’ll do if it actually turns out to be another zombie. he surely can’t fire it, lest he alerts anyone or anything of your location, but maybe he’ll use the butt of the rifle to knock down the zombie. it would definitely buy you enough time to land your own hit as well; just one fell swoop at the head and the undead will be dead once more.

as it turned out, the source of the noise in the bush was merely a false alarm. you were sure you could hear panting, and you tilted your head in confusion until the sound of a whine made you blink in surprise. it sounded like it was coming from an injured animal, perhaps it was a dog? you shared a glance with satoru, who was equally as confused, and then hesitantly you took a step forward.

“careful,” satoru whispered to you, as he slowly lowered the rifle in his hands, his shoulders relaxing but not enough to completely let his guard down. he watched you hold the bat at your side as you knelt down, moving the leaves of the bush out of the way until you saw the source of the noise. indeed, it was a dog — you weren’t sure of the exact breed in the dark but it was an average sized one; it couldn’t have been no more than 30-40 lbs in weight. the dog looked up at you with uncertain eyes, ears tucked back and teeth snarled when you brought your hand close to it.

upon further examination the dog appeared to be stuck in the bush, sharp thorns digging into one of its back legs and drawing small amounts of blood. the poor thing was injured and struggling to free itself.

“it’s stuck…” you murmured softly, voice directed at satoru as your gaze remained fixed on the animal before you. satoru was now standing beside you, leaning his weight on his knees as he hunched forward to examine the dog as well. he hummed softly, a frown making its way onto his face.

you shared another look with him, and he nodded without saying a word (you’ve both learned to silently communicate with each other, after all). turning your attention back to the dog, you began to pull apart the branches surrounding it, making sure not to startle the dog and stress it out any further. once you cleared enough of it you carefully started to pull apart the branches stuck to its leg, shushing it gently when it started to growl and whine at you. the very second you freed it from the branch it lunged forward, jumping past you and several feet away. it was limping on its back leg, but the dog seemed more relaxed in your presence now.

“there we go,” you smiled, standing back up on your feet. satoru mirrored your smile, feeling the weight in his chest loosen up at the rare sight. he liked seeing you happy, it made his heart race in a way that he tried not to think about too much.

he was just… content, seeing the light shine in your eyes in fleeting moments like this. a glimmer of hope in an otherwise barren world, a reminder that he still had you — and you him.

it was only several more minutes of walking — along with the dog you rescued who had begun following you — before you both found the very thing you’d been searching for so late in the night — a creek.

“if we follow the stream, we should find the shop pretty easily.” satoru reminded you, to which you nodded your head. you’d both received some intel from survivors you’d met in passing earlier in the day, information about a convenience store that hadn’t been completely ransacked yet due to it’s remote location. through the dense woods and then along the creek, follow the stream until the river bends west and then walk exactly east of that.

it was pretty straightforward, and the people you’d met seemed reliable enough with their information. thus, you both decided to trek the path earlier in the day — only, you’d underestimated how thick the woods were.

nevertheless, the information you’d both received turned out to be true. just east of the bend at the river you spotted a small road, leading into the parking lot of an isolated convenience store. it was a shocker that there was even something this far out in the woods, but it’s not like you were about to complain.

the gravel crunched underneath your boots as you walked slowly through the parking lot, and satoru fished around inside his backpack for his flashlight before clicking it on, pointing it in the direction of the store.

“let’s make it quick, i already don’t like that we’re doing this at night.” he murmured, gently nudging your side as he spoke. you nodded your head, turning to glance over at him for a quick second only to find that he’d already been looking at you. when your eyes met you gave each other reassuring smiles, and he brushed his hand against yours for a moment; though he was holding the flashlight in that hand, you felt his pinky curl around your thumb and squeeze gently before he let go, eyes landing back ahead of him.

satoru was the first to walk in the store, stepping carefully over the broken glass shards on the ground where the door had previously been. he shone his flashlight down the aisles, looking both ways inside the store before beckoning you over. “coast seems clear, c’mon.”

you glanced behind you for a moment, where the dog had opted to stay outside as opposed to walking all over the broken glass, and then you looked back ahead and began to follow satoru inside. you had your own flashlight, holding it in the same hand that held your bat, leaving your other hand free to grab onto the back of satoru’s jacket for purchase as you moved closer to him.

the store itself was dark and eerily quiet, save for the gusts of wind blowing in from the broken entryway. several aisles in the front had been cleaned out by travelers already, but closer towards the back your luck finally seemed to turn around. you’d spotted a small pharmacy, gently tugging on satoru’s jacket twice to get his attention as you pointed your flashlight in the other direction.

(that was just another way you two figured out how to communicate with each other without saying a word. if you happened to be standing behind him (or vice versa), holding him by his clothing, you merely just had to tug on the fabric.

tug once to stop walking, twice to get his attention, three times if there’s danger. it was simple and effective.)

“let’s stock up on meds,” you whispered, and he nodded, now following your lead as you headed in the direction of the pharmacy. you set the flashlight down on the counter, silently handing him over your bat before placing your palms down on the flat surface. hoisting yourself up, you hopped onto the counter and swung your legs around, landing softly on the ground on the other side. “stay there, i’ll be quick.”

satoru nodded. though, even in the dark, you didn’t miss the look of concern that flashed over his features for a short moment. “be careful.” he whispered back, for the nth time in the night, as he watched you disappear down the aisles in the back, heading towards the stockpiles of medicine. though he couldn’t see you, he could see the shine of the light from your flashlight on the walls, and it calmed him down enough to let you go on your own.

you inhaled a deep breath, making a mental list of all the supplies you currently had, what you were short on, and what you needed. though you and satoru had a means of transportation that you used every now and then, you still couldn’t afford to be carrying too much in your backpacks, lest it weighs on you and slows you down. a quick scan of the short aisles was found to be of use; you pocketed several emergency medications, some over the counter and some that you knew would have to have been prescribed under normal circumstances. they were the harder, more effective painkillers, which were all the more addictive.

you tossed several items in your bag, as well as some extra gauze and other medical kit items you happened upon, and once you were satisfied you zipped it all up and pulled it over your shoulders again. the haul was simple and quick, a little too easy, and you let your guard down too much because of it. you’d nearly missed the low growl just around the corner of one of the aisles, in the very direction you were headed.

you stopped in your tracks, hairs immediately raising on the back of your neck as all of your senses were alerted. you peeked around the corner and lo and behold, there it was — a zombie, limping about with its head hanging low. it seemed unaware of your presence, of the way you nearly stumbled backwards in fear, your heart racing in your chest as your back hit the shelf behind you with a small thud.

you froze in place at the sound, hearing a soft grunt emitted from the creature, and you could hear the way it dragged its feet as it slowly approached the aisle where you were hiding. your hands trembled as you tried to think of what to do, instinctually reaching behind you to grab your weapon from your backpack, except—

fuck. you left it with satoru.

wait— satoru.

you scrambled for purchase as you stood up straighter, trying to peer through the shelves to spot the white haired male, but you couldn’t see him very well from the corner you were at. you were also certain he couldn’t see you, nor the zombie for that matter, but what you could see was the faint glow of the light he was shining inside the pharmacy as he waited for your return.

in that very instant, a lightbulb might as well have shone above your head the way your face lit up with the idea you just got. biting your lip in anticipation, while also getting ready to make a run for it if needed, you pointed your flashlight up at the ceiling — a sight you were certain satoru would notice.

and then, you clicked it off. and on again. three separate times.

almost immediately you heard him, the sound of his boots squeaking on the floor as he hurriedly jumped over the counter, running through the aisles in search of you. the zombie, who was once mindlessly walking around, seemed to be more alert now, as another growl tore through its gnarled lips before it started to follow the sound from satoru. you took the chance to catch it by surprise, grabbing the largest item you could find within reach, and tossing it in the opposite direction, hoping to lead it away from him.

the commotion from the object you tossed helped satoru figure out where you were hidden, but it only worked to anger the creature further, as its eyes seemed to follow the source of the noise and trace it back to you. upon making eye contact you audibly gulped, and just as the creature lunged at you, you quickly dodged its bony fingers and ran past it, shoving it to the side in the process and just barely missing the way it almost tore into your arm.

you weren’t really paying much attention to where you were going, just running on pure adrenaline by that point. you blindly turned a corner and came face to face with another body, one you were too panicked to discern, making you yelp in shock when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around you.

“hey, hey,” satoru’s voice broke through the haze just before you could shove him away, and you could only blink in surprise as he pulled you tighter into him, shushing you gently as his eyes searched the surrounding area. “you’re okay, it’s just me. i got you, you’re safe now.”

as he spoke he pulled back from the hug, eyes scanning over you as best he could in the dark to assess whether or not you’d been hurt. but then his head snapped up at the sound of the zombie approaching, and just as quickly you snapped out of it too. you pulled your bat out of satoru’s backpack as he grabbed another weapon of his, a silencer that truthfully was in need of another reload soon, and you both got into position.

the zombie lunged at you again but you were better prepared this time, swinging the bat in your hands hard enough to knock it down on the floor. just as you did this you felt satoru’s hand on your shoulder, and he stepped around you to point the silencer at the head of the zombie before pulling the trigger, taking the final shot at the creature.

it slumped into the ground, finally dead, and though the adrenaline was still slow to leave your system you were admittedly much more relaxed now. especially because satoru’s hand was now sliding down your back, turning you around and pulling you back into his chest once more.

he held you firmly, about as firmly as he held you on that fated day a few months back, just after you’d both narrowly avoided the chase of a horde. his breathing was labored against your hair, though you were not doing any better — huffing softly against his chest as you hugged him back just as tightly, letting the bat fall to your feet to focus on returning his embrace.

neither of you said anything after that, but satoru couldn’t have been standing any closer to you as you both made your way through the rest of the shop, occasionally grabbing some extra food and other miscellaneous supplies before finally heading back out into the night. the same dog from before had been patiently waiting the whole time, bounding over to your side excitedly once you both emerged into the parking lot.

you both then made the trek back through the forest, weapons in tow and satoru’s hand firmly grasping yours once more.

the sound of you whistling was equally as soft as it was loud enough to capture satoru’s attention, and satoru’s head snapped up from where he was fastening the tarp over the back of the pickup truck you both hijacked a month or two ago. using the tarp to conceal some supplies and belongings you two had gathered over the last few days, he tightened the knot and closed the trunk before stepping around the pickup and over to your side.

“check this out,” you waved him over, eyes fixed on a point past the trees in the surrounding area. you lifted a hand to point in the direction you were staring and he followed your gaze, raising an eyebrow in intrigue when he spotted what you were talking about — a road sign.

more specifically, a road sign with coordinates spray painted over it. longitude and latitude coordinates.

“huh,” he hummed, nodding his head slowly. “what d’you think that’s for?”

you shrugged, turning around to face the passenger side of the car as you spoke. “could be anything, really,” you mumbled, reaching inside through the lowered window of the car and opening the glove compartment to pull out the road map you’d both been using, as well as a small pencil.

you walked over to the hood of the car, placing the map flat on the surface of it and smoothing it down as you read the coordinates on the road sign again. “it could be another supplies shop, an abandoned facility turned refuge, a small community…” you trailed off as you spoke again.

satoru nodded in agreement, helping you pinpoint roughly the exact location the coordinates had set, and it appeared to be about a couple hours worth of driving away from you two.

“you wanna check it out?” he offered, leaning on the hood of the car as his glaze flitted up to your face. the expression you adorned seemed contemplative; you chewed on your lower lip for a short moment before decidedly making up your mind. with a small nod you met his eyes, giving him a small smile of intrigue.

“sure, why the hell not?”

satoru grinned with you — he couldn’t help matching his smile with yours every time he saw it — raising his hand and squeezing your shoulder before wrapping an arm around you. “sounds like a plan, let’s hit the road.”

you both climbed into the pickup, and the dog (the very same one you rescued the other night) excitedly sat in-between the two of you on the cushion of the large seat. and then you were off, headed towards the nearest highway to begin the drive to the unknown location.

“okay, so,” you began, examining the map and the road signs around you as satoru began to press on the brake, slowing down just enough to look at the surroundings. “according to the map it should be a little offset from this road, north east from here.” you pointed forward and satoru nodded, carefully pulling the pickup off the road.

“i think we should find some place nearby to crash for the night, in case it turns out to be nothing.” satoru thought out loud, glancing at you for a moment before fixing his gaze back on the road. the dog at this point had laid down beside you, its head on your lap, and satoru couldn’t help smiling fondly at the sight.

“yeah that’s a good idea, i think down there’s an old residential area… you wanna try scoping it out?” you suggested, and satoru nodded in agreement.

you both drove for several more minutes before deciding to pull over in a secluded area, making sure to mark where you left the car hidden from the main road, and then you both grabbed your backpacks and started the short trek to the abandoned residential area you’d spotted. the dog followed closely behind you two, and as you both approached the street, satoru’s hand once again reached out to grab yours and squeeze it gently.

it seemed that anywhere you both went these days, satoru’s hand always sought out yours. whether it was for comfort or to remind himself that you were nearby, or perhaps to even soothe yourself, you weren’t sure. but you squeezed his hand back, anyway. you let him know you were still there with him.

he doesn’t let go of your hand until you both find a small house down the road, only doing so to fasten his grip around his rifle as the two of you prepared to enter the abandoned home.

it’s important to make sure the place is safe first before entering it. that includes ensuring the home is not only zombie-free but also human-free. you’ve both had your fair share of incidents and run-ins with some bad folk, and you didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression if they saw two total strangers trying to sleep in the very same place they’d taken as refuge.

but as you both entered the house, the distinct lack of any signs of life was evident in the dusty appearance it had. the door creaked on its hinges as satoru pushed it open, and instantly the dog was squeezing past the two of you,sniffing out the area. whether or not he was also searching for any hints of someone or something’s presence, it was unclear to the two of you. yet you both trusted the dog would react to anything out of the ordinary, so you stepped inside with small sighs of relief.

“it doesn’t have a second floor, so we should both be good here for the night.” satoru said aloud, to which you nodded in response. the two of you spent the next hour or so prepping the home and ensuring all the doors were locked, curtains drawn and windows boarded before sealing yourselves in one of the bedrooms.

it was routine, at this point. find a place to stay, seal it off, stay close to each other. that’s what you both did every time; that’s why you never questioned why satoru was particularly clingier during the nights with you. how he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you closer to him as he approaches the bed you’d both be sleeping in, not wanting you out of his sight even for a single moment.

“i wonder what we’ll find there,” he thought out loud, lifting the blanket on the mattress and shaking the dust off of it before setting it back down. he did the same with the pillows, and then his attention was back on you, grabbing your elbow and gently urging you to climb into the bed with him. it was subconscious, almost pure instinct the way he did it. and you followed without a second thought, just as you always did.

“i hope it’s not a waste of our time, that’s for sure,” you huffed softly, slipping your shoes off and glancing over at the dog laying in the corner of the room one last time before climbing in next to satoru. you pulled the blanket over your legs, and satoru’s arm was soon finding its way across your shoulders, pulling you further into his side. “though this area doesn’t seem so bad, maybe we could stay here for a bit too.”

satoru simply hummed in response, his other arm sliding across your midsection while your own arms wrapped around his torso. your head plopped onto his shoulder, and just like that you both lay, relaxing against the kind of comfortable bedding that you rarely ever come across these days.

satoru closed his eyes for a moment when your head nuzzled further against him, lips parting slightly with every soft breath you exhaled. he felt that familiar pull in his heart again, tugging towards you, naturally. his arms tightened around you with the feeling, swallowing thickly as to push away what he knew was coming next — the intrusive thoughts.

thoughts of not being able to keep you safe, of losing you to the madness that’s overtaken the world. or worse yet — of him dying. of you being left alone, with no one to hold you at night the same way he is at this very moment. he can’t stomach the thought of you being alone; he thinks he fears that more than the prospect of his own death in that equation.

satoru just… he just wants you to be safe and cared for. the world is so, so barren… and so lonely. he wouldn’t be so worried about this if you both still had your group with you, but now you both were all that was left of it. he was all you had left, and you were all he had left. he promised himself a long time ago that he was never going to leave your side, no matter what.

“satoru.”

“hmm?” he hummed, rubbing your shoulder soothingly in a way that showed you that you had his attention.

“stop thinking so much,” you yawned, pinching his waist softly, making the man chuckle. “get some sleep.”

“okay, okay. i’ll try.”

he closed his eyes again, his head lolling to the side and leaning on top of your own as you both drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. dreaming of a kinder world, a world where he got to simply be with you and not have this lingering fear in the back of his head. one that always seems to remind him that every sweet moment could have such a bitter end.

he falls asleep with you in his arms, safe and sound for the night being. all with the promise of getting to see the sun again by the time you’ve awoken.

“i think this is it,” you muttered, lowering the map shielding your view to scan the area ahead of you once again. yet another stretch of woods that didn’t seem as promising as you’d both hoped it’d be.

satoru whistled lowly, a hand resting on his hip as he quirked a brow and looked around. “should we keep walking? see if there’s anything worthwhile?”

you hummed softly, contemplative but a little dejected in manner. a sigh escaped your lips as you pocketed the sordid map, head lolling to the side afterwards to spare an uncertain glance at satoru. even if he didn’t know you like the back of his hand, if he didn’t commit every single mannerism and expression of yours to memory, reciting it like you were his favorite poem — he still could’ve just as easily picked up on your reluctance to go any further. but he also saw an insatiable curiosity in your eyes, so all it really took was a gentle nudge in your side to convince you.

“c’mon, let’s at least make sure this wasn’t a complete waste of our time.”

you pursed your lips in consideration again before nodding slowly, giving him a playful smile as you gestured ahead of you. “ladies first,” you teased him, followed by a snort when he stuck his tongue out at you in response.

he lead the way for a few steps before slowing down his pace, all with the intent of walking side by side and grabbing your hand. he swung it back and forth for a bit, relishing in the small giggles that left your lips.

“someone’s awfully cheerful today.” you mused, beaming up at him when he gave you a bashful grin in response.

“i guess i just… have a good feeling about this, i dunno.” he shrugged, smiling down at you in a way that warmed up your whole being more effectively than the sunlight peeking through the tree branches above you.

you chewed on your lip as you nodded, eyes flitting down to the dog who was walking just a few feet ahead of you both, curiously sniffing the ground with every step it took. you tilted your head in amusement, about to comment on the action, but then a shot rings out and a bullet hits the ground just ahead of the dog.

a sharp cry leaves the startled animal as he stumbles away from the sudden sound, ears back and tail tucked between its legs while it quickly runs to hide behind you and satoru. the sound also startled you both, as you were instantly grabbing a hold of each other, eyes darting in all directions, frantically searching for the source of the shot.

“you there!” a voice calls out, booming with every syllable, and the moment satoru spots the source of the speaker he’s stepping in front of you, shielding you protectively from the gun pointed in your direction.

“you both travelers?” the man, now appearing more fully from behind a large bush, calls out to you both as he speaks. you and satoru hesitate for a moment in your response, unsure how to assess the stranger, but then you both slowly nod in confirmation.

“this is a protected area.” he states with a click of his tongue, slowly lowering the gun yet still keeping his guard up. his eyes flit between the expressions on yours and satoru’s faces, and then he raises an eyebrow. “how’d you get all the way out here?”

“we, um,” you began, fingers curling around satoru’s arm a little tighter as you cleared your throat. “we came across some coordinates, we weren’t sure what to make of them so we decided to check out the location ourselves.” you answered truthfully, exhaling shakily once you’d finished speaking. “we— we mean no harm to you, promise.”

satoru nodded in agreement, though there was no denying the way his fingers twitched over the strap of his own rifle, pure instincts telling him to pull out the weapon and point it back at the man ahead of you two.

when the stranger took a second too long to respond, satoru took a careful step backwards, hand now firmly gripping the strap of his rifle that was slung over his shoulder. satoru’s other hand slid around your back, pulling you closer to him protectively as he raised his chin. “we can get out of your hair, if you’ll let us go.” satoru proposed, tone firm as he addressed the man who was still pointing his gun at the both of you.

the man tutted, brows still furrowed as he examined you both for another moment longer. he seemed to take a deep breath, grip tightening around his rifle, gaze narrowing, and then— his shoulders dropped, he lowered the gun in his hands and he nodded his head in the direction behind him.

“you two, follow me. you can bring the dog.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and then shared a hopeful glance with satoru as you both carefully took a few steps forward. you're not sure how you didn’t notice it before but the man lead you both to a short trail that was close by, leading to a large fortified community at the end of it. giant wooden gates with watchtowers on every end and several more armed guards. satoru’s grip on his own weapon relaxed, but only for his other hand to tighten on your side, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

he tugged on your sleeve twice, hesitating around a third tug until he felt your arm link with his, pulling him down closer to whisper in his ear.

“this place seems pretty legit.”

his eyes flitted over to your expression, and it was that of pure awe. you were taking in all the surroundings with careful attention to detail as the gates opened up and you were both welcomed inside the community. satoru probably should’ve been paying more attention himself but he found it hard to tear his gaze away from the awestruck look on your face.

the way it made his heart swell, how he had this urge to squish the plump of your cheeks when you grinned widely, how the smile stretched across your whole face. he can’t remember the last time he’d ever seen you look so hopeful.

he was so caught up in your presence, he was almost convinced he dreamt up the next thing he heard.

“…suguru?”

the name registered in his head after a bit of a delay. it all happened so slowly, his senses only working one after the other. his eyes first saw the way your expression froze, your lips spelling out a name that looked familiar. then touch was next; he felt the way you tugged once on his arm, how your fingers curled around his wrist and tightened hard around him, hard enough for it to feel like the joints in your knuckles were going to get stuck in that position. finally, came sound — the sound of the gravel kicking in front of you both as you stopped dead in your tracks, the name you uttered, the object that dropped to the floor a few feet ahead of you both.

satoru turned his head and saw him. his eyes trailed up from the basket of fresh fruits at his feet (honestly, he can’t remember the last time he’s had a fresh strawberry), the trembling hands that had been holding that basket, and then his gaze finally landed on the shocked face of the man in question.

suguru geto, someone neither of you had seen in literal months, someone you thought to be dead for the longest time. a member of the small group of survivors you both used to be part of, the very group that you’d both stuck with since the beginning of the end.

“holy shit.” satoru’s voice finally caught up to him, though it sounded far away. he couldn’t believe his eyes, and neither could you — the two of you were blinking like deer caught in the headlights.

suguru was the one to move first, having caught his bearings faster than either of you. “huh… i can’t say i’m surprised you two made it out alive and together.” he chuckled, his shocked expression morphing into a breathy laugh as he stepped forward.

you were the next one to snap back to reality, breaking out into a laugh of your own as you let go of satoru and ran forward, immediately jumping into suguru’s space and pulling him in for a hug. “oh my god, oh my god! you— you’re alive, suguru! suguru you, you’re—”

you were rambling, laughing with the surprise you felt as you squealed at the sight of an old friend, another familiar face at the end of the world. satoru was silent, evidently still processing the presence in front of him as he took slow steps forward. you let go of suguru to look back at satoru and beckon him forward, and suguru grinned when he sensed the confusion in satoru’s face.

“c’mere man, i don’t bite. it’s just me.”

satoru blinked again, but then he was smiling just as wide as he pulled suguru in for another bone-crushing hug of his own, gripping the other man tightly as he breathily laughed against his shoulder.

“fucking hell, suguru,” satoru laughed, still in shock, and he couldn’t help the way he started rocking side to side as they held each other. “have you just been chilling here this whole time?”

suguru laughed with him, patting his back before pulling away from the hug to look him in the eyes as he spoke. “technically, there were a few weeks of shoko and i just wandering around before we found this place, and we’ve been here ever since.” suguru beamed, his smile growing when he heard you gasp beside him.

“shoko’s here too?!” you gaped, eyes no wider than the smile on your face as you hurriedly spun around, looking around to search for her.

“yup,” he grinned, raising his hand and pointing in the direction of a small shop across the street. “last i saw she was just over there, checking out some vegetables.” suguru said, and before he could get another word out you were excusing yourself to run off in that very direction, searching for the woman in question.

satoru was smiling too at the news, and when he saw you run off to find her he stepped forward to follow you, as was his instinct; only, a firm hand on his chest stopped him from doing so.

“wha—” he stammered as he turned to look at suguru, unsure why the other man was stopping him from following your trail.

“we can meet up with them in a minute, there’s something i wanna ask you real quick,” suguru announced, slinging an arm around his friend as he pulled him back in the opposite direction. satoru was unsure how to respond to that, unsure what to make of this weird sensation in his chest, turning his head to glance over in the direction you’d run off in while suguru knelt down to retrieve the basket he’d dropped.

it was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. suguru almost didn’t pick up on the way it made satoru look desperate to keep you in his sights, if not for the way the taller man kept glancing back every now and then as he followed suguru to a small house down the street.

“so,” suguru huffed, dropping the basket down onto a table before turning to face satoru, crossing his arms over his chest with a raised brow. he opened his mouth to say something else when he noticed satoru was not paying attention, instead anxiously tapping his foot and looking out the windows of the home.

“they’re fine, y’know…” suguru mumbled, seemingly reading satoru’s mind, the concern he held for you plastered all over his face. “this place is completely safe. we rarely get anyone to join the community since it’s pretty remote, and everyone here is extremely nice. i trust all of them with my life.”

when suguru says this satoru only nodded slowly, gaze still fixed on the window as he tried to peer down the street. he finally caught sight of you exiting the shop you ran into a few minutes prior, arm linked with shoko’s while you both excitedly chatted together. there was a skip in your step, satoru noted.

suguru noticed the way satoru’s demeanor visibly relaxed, with the faintest smile appearing on his face.

“you two finally got together, then?”

this is what catches satoru’s attention, what has him facing suguru with his mouth gaping wide open. “wha— what are you—”

suguru cuts him off with a chuckle, shaking his head gently. “is that a no? honestly, the way you were holding onto each other earlier, i’d have suspected otherwise.” he teased.

satoru only frowned with suguru’s comments, a trace of uncertainty mixed with another emotion pooling in his gut and making his heart clench a little. “i— i’m not sure what you’re, uh… we didn’t— i, um…” he stammered, cheeks tinting a dusty pink shade with how flustered he’d become.

suguru’s teasing grin fell a little bit, seemingly understanding the flurry of emotions that caught satoru off guard. it’s hard, after all — hard to entertain something so trivial when you’ve only ever had the time to worry about your own survival for longer than you can even remember.

it’d only been a couple of years since the apocalypse began, but to anyone on the outside of this community, it was like a lifetime had passed.

“forget i said anything,” suguru smiled comfortingly, extending a hand to squeeze satoru’s shoulder. his own attempt at soothing the crease in satoru’s brow, helping bring the taller man back to the present moment and out of the rampant thoughts in his head. “why don’t we go meet up with the others and i’ll show you both around?”

satoru nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he let suguru lead him out of the small house and back onto the streets, over in the direction where you and shoko were chatting on a bench.

it was a heartfelt reunion with the four of you, and as suguru and shoko showed you both around and introduced you two to the rest of the community, nobody commented on the way satoru was gripping onto the hem of your jacket the whole time. even though suguru and shoko shared a knowing glance, they knew better than to say anything. not with the way satoru’s voice cracked, lips shaping themselves into a small pout whenever you would move away from him, even if it was just to examine something closer.

even as you both were officially inducted by the heads of the community, and brought to the townhouse you would be staying at, satoru still felt that strange ache in his chest when you unlocked the front door and you both walked in to find that there were two beds, rather than just one.

you could say he was a little attached, but he was just dreading sleeping in his own bed tonight.

“hey, ‘toru?”

you snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked a little dumbly as he fixed his gaze on you. he saw the furrow in your brows, and like clockwork he was stepping closer to you, reaching forward to lightly pinch your arm in an affectionate gesture.

“hmm? you okay?”

you nodded your head, wrapping your hand around his wrist and holding his arm gently before you pointed in the direction of the bedroom with your free hand. “which, um… which bed do you want?”

his eyes flitted to the beds behind you, and then back to the expectant look on your face. it was an odd expression, almost like you weren’t sure of the answer yourself.

it doesn’t matter. i’ll sleep wherever you want to sleep.

“uh, you can go ahead and pick first. i’m good either way.” is what he replied with instead, shrugging his shoulders and almost wincing at the tug he felt in his heart when you gave him a sheepish grin.

“alright… if you say so,” you giggled softly, chewing on your lower lip as you glanced over at the two beds before turning back to him. “i think i’ll just take the one in the corner, then, if that’s alright.”

satoru smiled at you, maneuvering the grip you had on his wrist to slide his hand into yours with ease. “it’s all fine with me.”

you gazed at each other like this for another moment longer, and then your attention was pulled away from satoru when you felt the dog pawing at your leg, whining softly beside your feet.

“oh, you must be hungry,” you pouted, giving an apologetic smile to the dog as you turned around. “here, i got you something at the food stall earlier with shoko.”

satoru watched as you turned around, letting go of his hand to walk over to the backpack you’d set down near the front door. you fished around inside of it before pulling out a paper wrapping, revealing the diced potatoes you’d gotten. you picked one out from the wrapping and knelt down, extending your hand forward to offer the piece of food to the dog.

it sniffed your hand for a moment, assessing the food before gently taking a bite. you smiled wider as the dogs ears perked up, tail wagging and walking closer to you to get more of the potatoes.

“here, this is all for you, buddy.” you giggled, setting the wrapping down on the floor to let the dog eat from it in peace. satoru watched this exchange with another fond smile; there was a sort of domestic feeling about this that his heart really liked. it was beating rapidly in his chest when your eyes met his again and it didn’t slow down even as you approached him again.

“let’s get ready for bed then, yeah?”

earlier in the afternoon you were both offered a fresh change of clothing, as well as some utilities to shower and freshen yourselves up. you were pleasantly surprised to find that the running water was actually warm; you can’t even remember the last time you got to have a relaxing shower. you think you even almost cried underneath the shower head, the water dripping around your teary eyes as the relief finally settled after flooding into your body.

you can’t recall ever having felt so calm in your life.

satoru was faring similarly; he was unable to stop the laughter bubbling up in his chest the second the water pellets landed on his head, smoothing down his white hair that had been covered in dirt for months. even as he wiped the steam off the mirror once he stepped out, he almost didn’t recognize himself — almost didn’t recognize the stark brightness of the fluffy strands on his head.

he rubbed his face with the towel before stepping out, and he was surprised to find that you’d already fallen asleep on your bed, curled up on top of the covers and holding an extra pillow close to your chest. he lingered beside his own bed for a moment, his gaze fixed on you for a second longer before he urged himself to climb into his own bed and go to sleep.

he couldn’t blame you for falling asleep so fast, really. it was a blissful feeling getting to wash away the soreness in your muscles, the dirt and grime that’d built up after months of traveling through a barren world. he even thinks the noise he just made was almost akin to a purr; a moan of pure content as he sunk into the mattress, head falling against the pillow as he willed his bones to melt against the cushions.

and yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep.

couldn’t quite ignore the building ache in his chest again, an anxious bubble in his heart that wouldn’t pop no matter how hard he poked and prodded at it. he rolled onto his side, facing one end of the room where the dog was laying comfortably on a small bed you’d set up on the floor for it; a pile of throw blankets and a pillow for the little companion you’d both made in your travels.

he squeezed his eyes shut, unaware of how tightly he was gripping the pillow beneath his head. he rolled onto his back again, tossing and turning for what must have been 10 whole minutes before he finally faced you again. he noted the way you were holding the pillow to your chest, nuzzling your head against it.

he thinks if there was anything that could quell the rapid beating of his heart right now, it would be the feeling of your hair tickling his jawline, fluffy strands poking at the exposed skin of his neck as you slept on his own chest.

“satoru?”

satoru blinks, lifting his head up at the sound of your voice from across the table. you were both sitting in the breakfast hall near the community square, having joined suguru and shoko for the morning to catch up with the two of them. satoru hadn’t really been doing much of the talking, though.

“sorry, i spaced out a little.” he murmured, giving you a small smile. he could tell you didn’t fully believe his words from the way you narrowed your gaze questioningly, but he gently nudged your leg with his shoe. “you were saying?” he added playfully, highlighting the lighthearted remark with a small tilt of his head.

truthfully, satoru was exhausted. he barely got a lick of sleep the whole night. he didn’t want to convey that to you, though; how else was he supposed to explain that it was the most relaxed his muscles had felt in ages, and yet he still couldn’t quell the anxious feelings that bubbled up. what initially started as a low simmer in his chest now had the threat of boiling over and spilling out of his heart. he was losing his grip, and he couldn’t even begin to explain why.

“well, i… was just wondering,” you continued after another moment, eyes worriedly scanning satoru’s demeanor before flitting back to the other two on your table. “since it’s just you and shoko here, would you happen to know what happened to the rest of the group?”

you worded the question as carefully as you could manage, watching for their reaction to the presumably sensitive topic. just as you’d anticipated, suguru’s expression fell, his lips curving downwards into a frown as he averted his gaze.

“they, um…” shoko, who was sitting beside you, spoke up to answer your question instead. “most of ‘em didn’t make it. we— we tried to go back and save some of them, but…” she trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip as she too looked to the side.

“there wasn’t much we could do, in the end… we had to be selfish, to save ourselves.” suguru added after a moment, his gaze now focused on nothing in particular while he directed his voice in your direction.

satoru had been silently picking at the food on his plate for most of the conversation up until now. after hearing suguru’s response, satoru’s actions paused, and he slowly lifted his eyes up from the table to see the expression on your face. your lips were also downturned, gaze cast down on the table while you used your nails to pick at the corner of your plate.

satoru’s eyes then trailed downwards, past the small clench of your jaw and your stiff posture before finally landing on your other hand. it was extended a little forward on the table, past your plate and resting near the corner of satoru’s own. he instantly noticed a subtle twitch in your fingers, how they almost tapped absentmindedly on the table.

your wrist then began to turn, fingers slowly unfurling to reveal your palm, which was now facing the ceiling. and when satoru looked back up, he saw that your eyes were already on him. without breaking eye contact for a single second, he lifted his hand from the table and slid it over to yours, gently pressing two of his fingers into the center of your palm.

and he felt that ache in his chest again when your own fingers immediately wrapped around his.

“but what matters is that we’re here now,” shoko breaks the tense silence once more, sliding closer to your side on the seat and wrapping an arm across your shoulders. “all of us. we finally found each other again.”

it’s unanimous across the four of you, how you all stick by each other’s sides. with the dynamic of a found-family in the midst of so much chaos — you’ve all finally reached a point where you can settle down and discuss these things amongst each other. it’s a well-deserved breath of fresh air.

yet, satoru still feels it. the slight tremble in your hands, how your fingers slide into his own palm and grip his hand tightly. it’s then that he comes to terms with it, that near-paralyzing emotion in his chest.

satoru needed this, all of this. he needed the break, the ability to settle down and clear his mind for once — but most importantly, he needed you.

he needs you; he thinks he always will need you, for as long as he has the fortune of living in the very world you reside. your own existence permeates into the depths of his soul, making him feel like he was always meant to be with you — regardless of the circumstances that led you to him. the very same circumstances that forever changed the world around you both.

the breakfast hall starts to clear up, and the four of you gather your plates and set them aside for the community volunteers that work in the kitchens. by the time you’re all back out underneath the sun, the mood seems to brighten up once more. suguru is smiling again and shoko is laughing about something with you but satoru still feels stuck, like the weight of his emotions is finally caving in on his heart. what he actually needs right now is a moment to pull himself together.

it’s not until he makes a move to excuse himself — to walk back to the small house you both share — that he realizes you were still holding his hand in your own. when you turn to face satoru with a questioning glance, he offers you a small smile.

“i’m gonna go check in with the dog,” he tells you, a lie sprinkled with some truth to disguise it better. “i thought i’d give him my leftovers from breakfast.”

it doesn’t seem convincing enough, but his hand slips out of your grasp before you could say anything about it. he dismisses himself from the conversation and waves at suguru and shoko, promising to return a little later before he walks off in the opposite direction.

now it’s your turn to feel his absence, unable to tear your gaze away from the trail he leaves in the grass as he walks away. if you’d asked him for an honest answer, he’d have told you he didn’t want to sour the mood with the raw emotions threatening to spill out of his heart. but then, you’d have simply responded by saying that the lack of his own presence near you was doing just that anyway.

you’d only managed to stick around with the other two for just a few more minutes before it started to eat away at you.

sometime later, a soft knock on the bedroom door is what pulls satoru out of his train of thoughts, and he looks up from where he was petting the dog lying comfortably on his lap to see you poke your head through the small opening in the door frame.

“hey there,” you murmured, smiling softly before slowly pushing the door open and stepping inside the room. “you okay? the others were pretty worried about you.” 

satoru offers you a small smile, eyes lingering on your own for a moment before he looks back down at the dog on his lap. “‘m okay, just a little tired today i think…”

you hummed in response, following his gaze and seeing how the dog nuzzled into his touch, appearing to be so content when satoru scratched softly behind its ear. “i get it. it’s a, um… a bit of an adjustment being here after everything,” you offered, closing the door behind you and walking over to him. you took a seat on the corner of the mattress, your hands fiddling on your lap as you thought about what to say.

ironically, satoru actually thinks that he should instead be having a harder time sitting still. how do you go from constantly moving, day in and day out, never once stopping to absorb anything in your surroundings for months — to then settling in one place for an indefinite period of time. it has barely been 24 hours since they found this small community but satoru simply thinks he should be wanting to do more, he should be craving it.

but he’s yet to feel that itch to keep moving, too caught up in all the other confusing feelings in his chest that weigh on his soul like an anchor. too caught up in the heat of your palm when you hold his hand; how you look at him like you’re trying to read his mind, even though he should be the one to soothe your worries instead. to smooth the crease in your brow with a gentle press of his lips on your skin, if you’d let him.

as you sit on his bed now, carefully studying his reactions — he also hesitates. he should be more surprised that he finally has the room to even think about something like this. when you’re both outside these gates — outside the fortification that protects you both from danger — you can’t afford to hesitate.

he never once had to think twice about his instinct to hold you close and never let you go, but right now it plagues his mind like the very disease you’ve both been running from all these years.

satoru went silent again. the hand petting the dog on his lap stills, and your gaze flits up to see the faraway look on his face. how his eyelids have started to droop, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. every few seconds he widens his eyes and blinks, as if trying to keep them from closing, but then they start to fall again against his will.

“did you get any sleep last night?” you finally asked him, scooting further up the side of the bed until you were sitting right beside him. he watched your movements with a sort of calculated precision, trying to make something of the sudden skip in his heartbeat, but then he sighs and leans back against the headboard.

“i couldn’t really fall asleep,” he admits, his voice heavy with the exhaustion that’s slowly seeping into his bones. you hummed in response, now feeling the urge to reach out for him. you lift a hand from your lap, pausing midair when you start to overthink your action — but satoru notices. his eyes meet yours and there’s this look in them you can’t quite figure out, but it’s like he’s silently screaming at you to do something. to welcome back the physical closeness you’d both grown so accustomed to the past few months. to hold him and never let go.

after another short moment, you finally lift your hand and extend it further, reaching up to smooth down the strands of his hair that were sticking out a little awkwardly. almost immediately his eyes fluttered closed, leaning into your touch with a sort of deprivation that’s been gnawing at him ever since you both got here.

the dog then jumps off his lap, startling you as you watch it land on the floor and walk to the other side of the room. you subconsciously start to pull your hand away, eyes fixed on the dog as it settled into the pile of blankets you left for him overnight. but then you feel satoru’s fingers curl tightly around your wrist, holding your hand in place.

“stay,” he croaks when you meet his eyes again, cerulean irises swimming with an intensity that’s almost foreign to you. “please…”

wordlessly, you nod. satoru moves aside on the mattress and it takes you a second too long to realize he’s inviting you into his space again. you climb in without another second wasted, feeling a weight lift from your heart when his arms wrap around your frame securely and pull you into his chest.

he exhales, closing his eyes and wrapping himself so tightly around you that it’d have been suffocating if you weren’t hugging him back just as tightly. it’s not long before he ends up falling asleep like that, finally able to relax again now that he’s holding you close.

you find yourself falling asleep in his arms as well. neither of you say anything about it, and you surely don’t question it later on in the evening when he climbs into your own bed for the night — as he continuously does for every night that follows.

a week has now passed, and it’s officially the longest time you’ve both spent in any given place for the last 4 months. satoru still climbs into your bed every night, and though the ache in his chest has yet to leave, he thinks it’s much easier to manage now.

that is, until he wakes up one morning to an empty bed.

he thinks nothing of it at first; stretching his arms out blindly to feel around for you, thinking you probably rolled around in your sleep and slipped out of his grasp. no worries, he can just curl up into your side again to sleep in a little more. maybe even slink his arm around your waist and pull you back into him. but when he’s met with nothing but a persistent lack of your lingering warmth on the sheets, he peels his eyes open and lifts his head from the pillow to really take a good look. he finds that you’re not in the room at all.

again, he doesn’t bat an eye. a part of him wishes he could’ve woken up with you but he had a late night chatting with suguru, so he doesn’t necessarily blame you for getting up first to grab breakfast without waiting for him. he stretches his arms above his head with a sleepy squeak, sitting up and craning his neck to the side to catch a glimpse of the dog, who was sleeping soundly in his little corner of the room.

satoru gets up then, changing into some more casual clothing and slipping his shoes on. even as he steps out the door, he doesn’t notice the fact that your backpack is not where you left it the other day.

he reaches the breakfast hall after a short walk, expecting to find you sitting with the others, but he’s only met with the sight of suguru sitting by himself at the table.

okay, that’s… no big deal. maybe you already ate and you’re just down the street with shoko. besides, suguru must have slept in too. it makes sense when satoru thinks about it like that.

satoru grabs a plate of food and takes a seat across from the other man. he smiles politely as he lifts his fork, resisting the urge to ask about your whereabouts before he’s even said ‘good morning’ to his best friend.

“morning,” suguru smiles back, stretching his neck to the side to crack it. they make a bit of small talk, but suguru can tell from the anxious tapping of satoru’s foot that his mind is nowhere near present in their conversation.

“where’d the other two head off?” satoru casually drops the question during a break in the conversation, and suguru hums softly. there’s a knowing look in his eyes as he watches satoru eat another forkful of his breakfast, the way the white-haired man pretends the question hasn’t been on his mind since the moment he woke up.

“ah, they left early this morning,” suguru shrugs, though his nonchalance was poorly misguided. he’s thankful he caught on to the way satoru instantly stiffened, because it helped him choose his next words a little more carefully. “they mentioned something about getting the car you both left hidden not too far from here. shoko suggested leaving early to catch a ride with one of the armed guards that patrols the woods, so at least there’s that.”

suguru mistakenly thinks he did enough to diffuse satoru’s incoming reaction, but he’s proven wrong when the fork slips out of satoru’s hand and drops onto the plate with a loud clatter.

“thanks for dropping us off!”

you waved to the armed guard after shutting the car door behind you, heeding the man’s advice to keep your weapons in tow as you watched him drive off. you turned to shoko then, who was looking around the residential area with an impressed grin.

“there’s a ton of abandoned houses here, it’ll definitely come in handy if the community starts growing more.” she commented, already drafting up all the different ways the community could expand. “within reason, of course.”

you chuckled, nodding your head in the direction you started walking, an indication for her to follow you. “were there that many people when you and suguru arrived?” you asked, making casual conversation as you both began to walk down the empty street. she hummed in response, smiling as she thought back on the last 2-3 months that she’d been there with him.

“honestly, yes and no…” shoko laughed, stuffing her hands in her pocket and kicking a pebble on the ground. “believe it or not, a lot of people actually come and go. they’re pretty strict about the rules to maintain everyone’s safety, but it rarely ever needs to be enforced… everyone’s good about following them,” she explained, swiveling around the toothpick she was holding between her lips.

“that being said, though, some people tend to just up and leave without a word after a few weeks. the first few times it happens you’re kinda like— ‘woah, why is no one out looking for them?’. but after a while you get used to it. some people just… find it hard to get used to living a calmer life again after everything that’s happened,” she says, her expression thoughtful as she speaks. “in other words, i’m pretty sure they’ve become adrenaline junkies.” she adds with a snort. “no one ever stops them from leaving, it’s why there’s always a bed available for the next traveler that stops by — though even that doesn’t happen too often, either… we’re nestled pretty deep in the woods.”

you nodded along with her words, your gaze kept forward as you both continued walking. “that explains why they were so willing to let satoru and i stay there.”

this made shoko scoff playfully, and she nudged your side with her elbow as she did. “trust me, even if they weren’t so willing, they’d have to pull suguru and i away kicking and screaming if they denied you two.”

the two of you laughed together at the mental image that produced. as your laughter died down you spared a glance in her direction, eyeing the pick she was gnawing on. “you quit smoking?” you asked her, gesturing her hand towards the object in her mouth.

she nodded with a proud smile, grabbing the pick with two of her fingers and making a blowing motion, as if she were exhaling smoke. “cigarettes are getting a little harder to come by these days, no one over at the community smokes,” she explained, licking her lips before putting the pick back between her teeth. “this old lady who works the kitchen — she’s a real sweetheart, lemme tell you… she always noticed how antsy i used to get when i was trying to quit, how i would always reach for my mouth expecting to find something there to grab between my fingers. she walked over to me one day and just handed me a whole bunch of toothpicks, so the habit of me reaching for something is a lot easier to manage. kinda like how people used to chew gum to quit, back in the day.”

“huh,” you hummed softly, grinning at her as she spoke. “that was really kind of her to do.”

“yeah,” shoko grinned, looking down at the ground again. “turns out she used to be a heavy smoker too, so she recognized the ticks i’d get. she was really helpful.”

you smiled wider, nudging shoko gently with your elbow. “well, i’m proud of you for overcoming that. it can’t have been easy.”

she grinned bashfully, waving you off for a moment before linking her arm with yours. you both continued down the road, finally reaching the house you and satoru had stayed in about a week ago. you walked around the house, towards a small clearing in the back where you both had tucked the pickup truck away from plain sight.

“here she is,” you grinned, slapping a hand on the hood of the vehicle. “satoru and i found this pickup a little over a month ago — y’know, siphoning gas from abandoned cars outside city areas is actually a lot easier than i thought it’d be.” you snorted, setting your backpack down to fish out the keys you had.

shoko grinned as you spoke, about to respond with a lighthearted comment herself when a rustling in the trees caught her attention. her ears perked up, gaze narrowing as she tried to make out what the source of the noise was.

a low growl was then heard, and you both froze where you stood. just around the car, several feet away, there were two zombies, dragging themselves around the area. shoko reacted quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of sight, the two of you kneeling in front of the car and hiding from the creatures that were yet to spot you.

“shit,” shoko muttered under her breath, her own adrenaline spiking as she tried to look over the side of the pickup. you were now moving a little frantically, trying to find the small set of keys in your bag, occasionally glancing up at shoko who was still keeping watch. “please tell me you’ve found them.”

“almost…” you trailed off, resisting the urge to exclaim out loud when your fingers brushed against the metal ridges of the car keys. you let out a sigh in relief, pulling them out and zipping up your bag, which you then slung over your shoulder. “got ‘em.”

shoko nodded, gulping as she glanced back over at the creatures that were now standing closer to the pickup. “we have to lead them away from the car. i’ll distract them while you get it started,” she suggested, but you were quick to shake your head in disagreement.

“like hell i’m letting you do that on your own,” you muttered, and shoko fought back the smirk that pulled at the corner of her lips.

“then we’ll take one each, whoever kills their zombie first starts the pickup.”

“you’re on,” you grinned, shaking shoko’s hand. “i’ll leave the key in the door, you go ahead first.”

you carefully got up on your feet, bending down low enough to remain hidden as you began to walk around the front of the car. as you were putting the key in the door, shoko stepped out in front of the two zombies, unsheathing the machete she was carrying on her belt as she did. both zombies began to run after her, but you were quick to jump out with your bat and grab the attention of one of them, pulling it in the opposite direction.

you managed to get a good distance away from the car, but the zombies were moving a lot faster than you were used to. you quickly spun around, swinging at the creature before it could lunge at you, instantly landing a hit and knocking it down. though it recovered quickly, too — just before you could swing at its head it attempted to grab at your legs, making you stumble backwards as you narrowly avoided getting scratched.

“you little shit,” you muttered, feeling your adrenaline peak with frustration. you swung again and it was knocked back into the ground, and this time you made sure to kick it down for good measure. your foot landed on its head and you swung your bat at the arms that reached out for you, managing to break apart the already dead limbs with the help of the barbed wire around the barrel of your weapon.

you then removed your foot and took a single step back, lifting the bat high above your head before bringing it down as hard as you could. with your own physical strength and the sheer momentum of the swing, you were able to crush the zombie’s skull in just one hit, killing it instantly.

the sound of the engine of the pickup truck coming to life pulled your attention back to the original task at hand, and you looked over your shoulder to see shoko had successfully killed the other zombie, beating you to the car first. she waved you over, and you spared one more glance at the zombie at your feet to make sure it was really dead before you turned around and ran towards the pickup, a relieved smile making its way onto your face.

“that wasn’t so bad,” shoko grinned at you as you stepped into the car, huffing in relief. as soon as the door closed behind you shoko put the car in drive, pulling out of the area and onto the street as she drove you both back to the guarded community. “you did pretty good back there.”

you chuckled breathlessly, waving off her compliment. you adjusted your position where you sat, moving one leg underneath the other to get more comfortable, but then a sharp pain sensation shot through your ankle, making you wince in pain.

“shit, you okay?” shoko asked you instantly, gaze flitting rapidly between you and the road ahead of her. “you didn’t get scratched, did you…?”

you shook your head no, though you lifted up your own pants up to your shin to double check. fortunately, there wasn’t a scratch, but your ankle looked a little swollen. “ah, fuck… must’ve been when that motherfucker tried to grab at my legs,” you mumbled, pressing your fingers against the joint and hissing softly. “i did stumble a little bit, i might’ve bent my ankle at an awkward angle without realizing.”

shoko nodded, a small frown appearing on her face. she could only catch short glimpses of you while she drove, which made her huff softly in frustration. “i’ll wrap it up for you as soon as we get back,” she promised.

the injury itself wasn’t too bad; you were still able to walk on your own with only a mild limp, but shoko was still insistent on wrapping it up to help with the swelling. you left the pickup with the other vehicles near the entrance of the community, and then you both walked back down the familiar, safeguarded streets. shoko excused herself to search for suguru, wanting to update him on the events of the morning, and you decided to head back to the house to drop off your things before meeting up with them. after you both parted ways, you reached the house in no time, but as you opened the front door you were surprised to find satoru immediately cornering you at the entrance.

“satoru, hey—” you began, about to greet him before he cut you off, grabbing your wrist and immediately dragging you towards the couch. he pushed the door closed with his other hand, a little harshly at that, making you jump slightly in surprise. “um, is everything okay?”

satoru didn’t say anything as he dragged you over to the couch, immediately pulling you down onto the seat and sitting beside you. he then lifted your arm, turning it around in his grasp, inspecting it closely before dropping it and moving on to the next limb.

“what are you—” you tried to say, but as you looked up at his face you immediately cut yourself off. his brows were furrowed, face set in a deep frown as he examined you for any potential scratches or injuries. you’d have teased him for the way he showed his concern for your safety if you didn’t catch the dull look in his eyes next, how the otherwise bright blues were now a pale gray color. his jaw was clenched tight, cheeks puffy and the skin around his eyes red, almost a little irritated. he looked like— wait, was he crying?

“satoru…” you tried again, voice much softer now as you recognized the look on his face for what it was. he was still quiet, now lifting one of your legs up onto his lap, still inspecting. “satoru, i’m okay. we just went to get the pickup truck, we’re both fine.”

he grumbled something underneath his breath, ignoring you again as he lifted your other leg. this happened to be the leg with your injury — and as he grabbed your ankle and hoisted it up onto his lap, he was quick to notice the wince you tried to hold back. he blinked up at you, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

very hesitantly, he looked back down at your ankle. he lifted up the fabric of your pants just a little bit, enough to expose the compression wrap shoko had fastened around it earlier. he knew it wasn’t a bandage wrap, which told him that you likely just twisted your ankle. but it didn’t make him feel any better — didn’t really do anything to stop the way his hand trembled as he gripped the fabric of your clothing.

“what happened?” he rasped, finally breaking his tense silence as he looked up at you. carefully, you pulled your leg off his lap, watching how his hands fell limply to his sides.

“i stumbled a bit and kinda twisted my ankle, it’s a little swollen but it doesn’t hurt too much.” you explained carefully, but satoru was hanging on to every word like a vice.

“you just tripped?”

“well, not really—”

“so, what, you fell?”

“no—”

“were you guys running from something?”

“satoru,” you snapped, your tone a little louder than you’d have liked it to be. “relax, there were some zombies that showed up. we killed them with no problem, i just lost my footing at one point. it’s not a big deal.”

you were getting irritated with the bombardment of questions, that much he could tell. but it felt like something inside of him was trying to claw out of his skin, and he just kept pushing, and pushing…

“…not a big deal?” he scoffed, scowling at your nonchalance. “since when is you almost dying not a big fucking deal?”

it was your turn to scoff now, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you stood up from the couch. “god, you’re so damn dramatic. you’re acting like i was being careless about it.”

“excuse me for thinking you were when you come back hurt!” he exclaimed, voice raising in pitch as he stood up and followed after you. “why the hell didn’t you tell me you were headed out there today?”

“you were still sleeping!” you argued back, raising your hands in surrender. “was i supposed to wake you up for something that didn’t even take up the whole morning?”

“um, yes?” he spoke sharply, staring at you in disbelief as he stopped behind you. “forget letting me sleep in, we’re supposed to do these things together!”

“shoko was with me the whole time,” you defended yourself, voice still raised as you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. “i know you always feel insanely protective of me but that doesn’t mean you have to swoop in like some knight in shining armor all the damn time, i can take care of myself!”

“don’t be ridiculous,” he barked back, his tone sharp and words cutting. “you sure did a hell of a job at that, coming back with a fucking twisted ankle.”

satoru heard it as soon as the words left his mouth, but his heart was so far up his throat that he couldn’t stop himself from saying it on time. he clenched his fists at his side in frustration, feeling something ugly twist low in his gut when you flinched at his harsh words.

“oh, go fuck yourself, satoru.”

he feels his breath catch in his throat, helpless to the way you spun on your heel and slammed the bedroom door closed behind you. he should give you your space, he knows he should. but he also knows he’s physically incapable of letting you go, of loosening whatever grip you currently have on his heart. how the muscle rattles against his ribcage to the beat of your name, driving his every action before his brain can think logically through them.

thus, he opens the bedroom door and his feet drag him in your direction.

“where are you going now?”

“what does it matter to you?” you retorted, throwing your hands up in defeat as you walked further into the room. “is the bedroom now too dangerous for me to be in by myself?”

“ugh, that’s not—” he groans in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stops in the middle of the room. “it matters to me, okay!”

“but why?” you questioned, now facing him once again and walking towards him to further drive your point home. “why does it matter to you so much, huh?!”

“because…” he starts, huffing out another frustrated sound when you stop in front of him to poke your finger into his chest. he wonders if you can feel how hard his heart is beating right now. “because—”

“because?” you repeated, growing more impatient by the second as satoru stumbled over his words. “you seemed pretty damn sure of yourself barely a minute ago, don’t start backtracking now.”

satoru stutters again, the frown deepening on his face the longer you look at him, waiting for an answer he can’t bring himself to give you yet. “because, it— it just does, okay?!”

you scoffed at him, rolling your eyes and removing your hand, and that ache in his chest from before is steadily returning as he watches you turn your back to him once more. he takes a risk, reaching out to grab your wrist, but it only makes you shove at his chest.

“i said fuck off,” you groaned as you pushed him back, only to then grip on the fabric of his shirt as you held him in place, keeping him from actually leaving. he blinked at you in confusion, his breathing labored with the way his heart was about to give out on the spot.

he reaches for your wrist again, this time grabbing it securely, fingertips ghosting underneath the hand of yours that’s currently gripping his shirt. you look over at him when he does this, opening your mouth to say something else, but no words come out.

satoru realizes, then, that there’s simply never any time for anything. you both live in a world full of uncertainties, full of so much danger and full of all the longing glances you spare his way when you think he isn’t paying attention. and he can’t waste the unknown amount of time he has left with you any longer. he decides, then, that you deserve to know what it is exactly that he’s been trying to wrap his head around since you both stepped foot inside this community about a week ago.

but the way you’re looking at him right now, he finds it hard to get the words out; hard to convey what exactly it is that you do to him.

he takes a deep breath, eyelids fluttering in surprise when he finally notices the other hand you raised up to his face. you were not quite cupping his cheek but rather tracing your fingers lightly along his jawline, considering grabbing a hold of him. his fingers tighten around your wrist, your eyes meet his, and it all stops then.

time stops; it grants the two of you the chance to catch up to it.

satoru’s face rushes forward before another second could pass, aided by the way you pulled him into you with your tight grip on his shirt.

he kisses you, and he thinks the world must have stopped spinning on its axis, too. how you kiss him back like you’re tired of beating around the bush, like you’ve been craving this as badly as he has.

he could be more modest about it, but there’s no such thing as modesty when you make him feel like someone set off fireworks in his chest. they’re shooting up, up, and out of his mouth — all into yours along with your mingled breaths.

you both pull away for a moment, a rather short one. you blink like you can’t believe your eyes and his hands tremble as he grabs your face to pull you back in. this kiss is more hurried now — rushed and a little desperate. you even feel him whine something incoherent against your lips, the sound instantly swallowed by you before it could properly register in your ears. he kisses you hard and the sheer force of it has you stumbling backwards, bumping into the nightstand beside your bed, knocking down an object that was placed on it.

“oh, shit—” you broke the kiss again, turning your head to look down at the object that fell, but satoru grabs your chin to make you face him again. his lips are back on yours before you can even respond.

“s’toru,” you squeaked against his lips, almost wanting to laugh at how rushed he’s being, but he simply whines again. his hands are all over you now, he can’t figure out where to leave them to rest. his heart is actually beating out of his chest and your lips are so soft and he thinks this is what heaven must feel like. “satoru.”

your tone is firmer now, his name only slightly muffled against his lips. you bring a hand up to his chest and gently push him back, and this time he actually listens. pulling away from the kiss and gasping loudly, like a diver finally coming up for air. his lips are swollen and you’re sure that yours are, too. his cheeks are a dusty shade of pink and his pupils are blown, hair slightly tousled from his movements. you think he looks so beautiful like this.

“sorry,” he huffs after a moment, still panting softly. his hands have now settled on your waist, squeezing the flesh gently as he steps forward, ever closer to you. “‘m sorry, i—… fuck, you’re just…” he trails off, closing his eyes to lean his forehead against yours with a low hum.

“you drive me so insane, you know?”

this pulls a giggle out of you, a soft sound that he finds himself wanting to hear again and again. a small grin makes his way onto his face and he peeks his eyes open, instantly meeting yours. your hands are behind you, leaning on the nightstand he cornered you into, but you lift one of them up to brush some of the hair out of his face. his eyes flutter closed when you do this before he opens them again.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles softly after a few moments, thumbs rubbing small circles into your sides. “about what i said earlier, i should’ve— i do trust you, but i just… i was really worried about you. i worry about you all the damn time, i don’t know what i’d do with myself if something ever happened to you.”

the sincerity in his words makes you frown slightly, feeling touched by what he’s said. “i know, ‘toru…” you sigh, your hand reaching up again to rub his arm soothingly. “and i really appreciate that, i do… but please just try to have a little more faith in the decisions i make without you, okay?”

he nods slowly, his eyes closing again as he inhales a shaky breath. “jus’ please let me know in advance next time. when suguru told me earlier where you guys where, i think i might’ve actually lost it,” he chuckles softly, the sound heavy on his tongue with the weight he feels in his heart. “i kept— fuck, i kept thinking about all the worst case scenarios. i kept thinking— what if you didn’t come back? what if last night was the last time i’d ever see you? so much…” he pauses, his grip on your waist tightening significantly. “there’s so much i want to say to you. stuff i thought i’d never get the chance to say because i was so scared you wouldn’t come home earlier…”

home, he says. it’s funny — he never uses that word to describe the place you both find yourselves in. they’re simply never permanent enough to bother getting used to; giving it a name would only make you grow attached to what’s essentially more of a pit stop.

satoru doesn’t use the term in a traditional aspect. he just happens to think home is anywhere that he can be with you.

you stayed quiet as he spoke, letting him vent his feelings out before saying anything in response to them. your hand slides up his arm to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb under his eyelids; he’s not crying but there’s a waver in his voice. and he knows it shouldn’t — there’s nothing wrong with feeling as much as he feels, after all — but the sheer vulnerability makes him feel so weak, so weak and so small. he trails off again when your thumb caresses his cheekbone, eyes fluttering closed for the nth time underneath your touch as he leans into it further.

a heavy sigh leaves his lips, his forehead comes down to lean against yours again. you gently kiss the tip of his nose, and he almost melts into the floor in that very instant.

“it’s… hard,” you began, choosing your words carefully to convey what it is you’re both struggling with. “the world we live in, nothing is— i mean, there’s only so much we can do to look out for each other…” you bite your lower lip, unsure where your thoughts are taking you; what the train’s next destination looks like.

satoru opens his eyes again to meet your own. he sees the uncertainty swimming in them and decides to take a dive — head first into the water.

“i hope you know that there’s absolutely nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

you blinked, only momentarily caught off-guard before your face fell into a soft grin. “satoru…” you trailed off, shaking your head with another giggle.

“i’m serious,” he huffs a small laugh, his expression finally relaxing into a grin that mirrored your own. a smile as sweet as honey; he could never get enough of you. “i’m so serious, like— i would do absolutely anything.”

“yeah?” you laughed softly, now moving to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. you slid out of satoru’s grasp but his hands were quick to find you again, taking a seat next to you and immediately grabbing your own hands. he held them together on his lap, giving them a gentle squeeze for good measure before you continued speaking. “but what if it was something, like, really stupid?”

he laughs at this, leaning forward to nose at your cheek affectionately. “doesn’t matter, i’m doin’ it anyway.”

you giggled again, feeling a warmth spread throughout your face at his affection. (there was another question you had for him, something a little darker… but that was a thought you didn’t want to entertain. at least, not right now… one of these days, you think to yourself. i’ll ask him when the time comes.)

“so…” satoru hums softly after your laughter dies down, letting go of one hand to snake his arm around to the back of your neck. his fingertips lightly dance along the edge of your hairline at the back of your scalp, the featherlight touch sending shivers down your spine.

you take a moment to think about what to say, gaze holding his as he gently rubs your neck. “we don’t know how much time we’ll have together, with… everything going on,” you began, pausing to inhale deeply before you continued. “but, i don’t wanna waste anymore of it.”

you squeeze his hand back to accentuate your words, a resolute confirmation of your mutual feelings. “if this is what you want, then… i feel the same. and— and i want this, too…”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes shine so brightly, the way they’re practically glowing with adoration right now. you both share a look and he makes a small sound; a sort of hum, nodding his head in understanding as he does. he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your knuckles. he closes his eyes as he does, and when he opens them again he’s quick to pull you into his arms. by the hand on the back of your neck he brings you into his chest, holding you in a tight embrace, laughing softly into your hair.

“i do,” he huffs gently, slowly rocking your bodies side to side when he feels you hug him back. “i do want this, more than anything i’ve ever wanted in my life.”

he pulls back from the hug after a few moments, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and gazing at you with a sickeningly lovestruck look in his eyes. his eyes scan your face, every minute expression, carefully weaving them into the very fabric of his heart.

then his eyes land on your lips again, and you already know what he’s thinking when he slides both of his hands up to cup the sides of your neck, thumbs resting just below your ears.

he pulls you in for another kiss, and this one’s much softer, slower. his lips mold together with yours so perfectly, like you were both crafted by the gods with each other in mind. a love that’s fated, sealed together in the way he pulls you close to him. the way he lets out a content hum as you kiss him back, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a smile he can’t bring himself to hold back.

as the kiss starts to deepen your arms slowly slide up his chest, slinging around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you. he has half a mind to pull you up onto his lap but he doesn’t want to startle you again, so instead pushes forward, slowly hovering over your body as you start to lean back against the mattress. his hands move back down to glide along your sides, gently moving you down onto your back, and before you even realize it you’re both laying side by side.

satoru’s now half leaning over you and half laying beside you, his legs slowly tangling with yours. your hands card through his hair, his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and when you reciprocate the action he moans softly, the sound reverberating in your mouth—

and then he’s pulling away, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to try and calm himself down. soft, labored breaths tickling your skin as he inhales your scent.

you both continue to lay like this for an indiscernible amount of time; the only sounds in the room are that of each other’s breathing slowly evening out. after a while he lifts his head up and the flush on his face makes you want to kiss him breathless again and again, but before you can pull him in for more, a soft knock on the front door is breaking through the haze he’s cornered you both into.

“hey, you guys there?” suguru’s voice is muffled from the other side of the door, and satoru has to suppress the groan that threatened to leave his mouth at the interruption, which makes you giggle softly. “shoko and i are headed to the park, if you both wanted to join us.”

you hum in contemplation, glancing back at satoru who’s sporting a small pout on his face. he slowly shakes his head as if to tell you to say no, but you just give him your best smile before calling back out to suguru.

“yeah, we’ll meet you guys there!”

satoru actually groans now, his face falling back down to hide in the crook of your neck as a form of protest, making you laugh at his petulance. his arms wrap around your waist as he hugs you tightly, mumbling incoherent complains into your skin.

“i can’t hear you, you big baby,” you giggled, stroking his hair for a moment before you gently pushed at his shoulder. “c’mon, we can grab something to eat from the dining hall on the way there. i’m sure you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

he grunts again, lifting himself up so that he was holding his weight above you, supported by his hands planted on the mattress at either side of your body. “fine, but you owe me.”

you snorted at that, sitting yourself up so you were now eye to eye with him. “owe you what? i didn’t do anything wrong.”

he scoffed at that, shaking his head with a feigned serious expression on his face. “at least one more kiss before we have to go.” he grumbled, though the look in his eyes was entirely playful and doting.

you rolled your eyes at him with a fond smile, lifting your hands up and squishing his cheeks before pressing a short, chaste kiss against his lips. “there, are you happy?”

he shakes his head with another small pout, the sight comical with the way you were squishing his face between your hands. “nuh-uh, one more.”

“satoru,” you warned, but you were already leaning in for another kiss anyway. this one was just a little bit longer than a peck, and as you pulled away you felt him chase your lips with his own before he pulled back with a soft sigh. “you can get more kisses later.”

at that proposal he grinned cheekily, finally lifting himself up off the bed and extending a hand to help you up as well. “i’m definitely holding you to that, just so you’re aware.”

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” you giggled again, graciously accepting his extended hand and getting up on your feet. he smiled down at you as you did, squeezing your hand again for good measure before he led the two of you out the door. the dog excitedly followed you both out the door, providing a picturesque scene of pure content across the atmosphere that surrounded you.

with the promise of finally holding and having each other comes another certain fact — you weren’t going to waste another minute of your time without his heart in your hands. a delicate exchange between the two of you that would last for as long as you have the fortune of living in such a desolate world.

tagging 4 funsies: @cinnamoneve @forest-hashira @ctrltoru @bhaalism @ohimsummer @lovelyless-fiction @yunymphs @marimogf @kissxcore :3 love u guys mwah

#read!!

[scamsz]

have been in such a terrible yearning mood like i need some good best friends to lovers satoru fic injected into my system right NEOWWWW

#RIGHTTT NEEOWW #they eat so hard

[scamsz]

satoru gojo

12:03 pm by yueebby

a family forged in curses by livinghostly

a typical family by literalia

after what happened by kingkohona

all mine by yueebby

always, eventually, yours by steleir

apocalypse by strxxberries

as if the memories have a heart that only beats at night by sttoru

ask me to leave and i'll stay forever by twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

astral cadence by voidslasher

back off, kid by inupibaldspot

bewitched by lovelyprincessmarie

beyond the unending night by stellamancer

blurb by awearywritersworld

blurb by sttoru

close by certifiedfreec

cupid's quiver by elusivemoon

death is pretty but his eyes are prettier by chronicdisasterwrites

decidedly yours by elusivemoon

do you like me? nope by awearywritersworld

drunk by coconutdays

drunk in love by yueebby

fear by chuluoyi

for better, for worse by alatushills

for you, i would by chronicdisasterwrites

gratitude by awearywritersworld

heartbreak, heartbreak by littlepookie

how the star and the moon found the planets by kenmasroots

i wasn't waiting by tender-rosiey

i will hold on to you for as long as you let me by livinghostly

ito by peekamatcha

keep dreaming! by yueebby

know it all by elusivemoon

light sleeper by stsgluver

like a tall child by hangelvr

love entries by chuluoyi

married on purpose by chuluoyi

meet cute by teddybeartoji

migranes by stsgluver

musing memories by myuroll

my wife by tender-rosiey

nothing stays the same by transitorywhim

october by shogunish

playing dangerous by satorkive

promise by stsgluver

reflections by staryuuu

snapshot by stsgluver

summer skies, winter lies by miyaspudding

synchronise by vagabond_umlaut

take me back to before by stsgluver

tell me you don't want me by awearywritersworld

the butterfly effect by ranposs

the path to insanity starts with you by aveirix

the strongest by emefaerie

the thorn in your side by sugurustattoo

the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure by awearywritersworld

to build a home by just-jordie-things

walk him like a dog by inupibaldspot

where did i go wrong by hiroka

wingman ain't subtle by inupibaldspot

you are not a god (just a man i love) by haveuseenthis

you are somebody that i want to keep by twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

you make my heart flutter and fibrillate by vagabond_umlaut

you touched my hair and i almost passed out by chronicdisasterwrites

#tbr

[scamsz]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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#tbr

[scamsz]

we can dip if you’re ready ; satoru gojo

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere), mild age gap (four years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach. but right now you’re still seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room. listening to the sound of the nearby sea. 

you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air. his bare chest is exposed, his pajama pants cling to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you. 

suddenly, without mercy. a finality to his voice.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, three years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and landed headfirst in his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture. 

there are lots of people out there for you.

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking right at you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god. his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, like fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod; smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws his backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of sugary pancakes on the kitchen table, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends. 

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

except they don’t.

the moral of the story is; satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was eighteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

one mellow summer evening, five years later — you step onto a bustling train platform, dragging your luggage behind you, and breathe in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look around, and everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers, peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades; the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you. with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided; her yellow sundress and matching headband, sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other in person just about a month ago, you indulge her. “i missed you too, riko.”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

you match her expression, eager to protest. “you’re still mad about that? it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards that familiar house. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.” 

ah. right.

your lips curl up into a smile, albeit a little uncertain. giddy, maybe. nervous? you aren’t sure. something swirls around in your stomach, little butterflies. tickling the ridges of your ribs, all those fluttering heartstrings. it’s been a while since you felt like this. all your summers are spent here, and all of riko’s, but he’s usually too busy.

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb.

the buzz of an old radio spills out from an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze. when you strain your eyes you think you hear humming.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest. a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, again, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out the slightest bit. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own.

“good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off. muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own. leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice.

“i bet. take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot. unable to properly look into his eyes.

for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward, one large stride towards you, leaning down to wrap his big arms around your waist. bringing you into a hug, not as tight as you remember them being. you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere. “i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can. 

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen. 

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly. 

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves. 

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.” 

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for words, brain tied up in fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, and you gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet. soft, sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating, but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament. 

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.” 

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm. 

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat. 

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?” 

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes… 

suguru. 

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by. i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers. 

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and satomi, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid. 

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look. 

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe. 

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room. 

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan escaping him. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with an oddly cold gaze. you follow his stare, craning your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response. “i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him? 

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing.

so, one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening. 

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more, unable to help yourself, you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re four years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet. 

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it drips with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it. okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair gently. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her. 

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated. even if you’re completely delusional, and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds. 

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable.

he’s strong. very strong. the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after the other, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually. some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those white printed flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ‘cause you were embarrassed?”

“no. because i wanted to be prepared,” he murmurs softly. “in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something. i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep his hold around your legs steady. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy.”

a displeased huff.

“… you’re not a random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he quips, standing a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat, absentminded. you’re not sure he hears you. if he does, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time. 

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think. more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have. 

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you. 

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. and you mean it. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking. you wonder if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, oxygen spilling out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, forehead nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

he’s teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm. his voice is set to a melodic lilt, and you feel strangely tempted to close your eyes. 

and you adore him again. 

right — loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so — if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown backyard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom. just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away, too. at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off lil ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right. 

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

#AHHHH #read!! #this was sooo gooodd

[scamsz]

MELLOWING ON THE PAST DOES NO ONE ANY GOOD…

𓏲 synopsis. mellowing on the past wasn’t good. shoko most of all knew that. she’d encountered loss time and time again, she couldn’t help but ponder on the dead…

𓏲 tags. wc. 0.9k satoru gojo x reader. reader dies obviously. everyone’s dead. canon timeline kinda. shoko is depressed. horrible mental health. smoking. descriptions of dead body. morgue. angst angst angst. shoko pov. mentions of suguru.

𓏲 a/n. scrolling through Pinterest and thought of this after seeing a sad shoko post. don’t blame me. blame the app…

IN SOME distant fantasy land, shoko married a prince. A prince of some mighty kingdom where he had all the money in the world and all the alcohol she would ever need. In some distant world she lived her best life, doing what she loved best, surrounded by her family, her parents. She would be loved and cared for, safe and content.

In her wildest dreams of course. She would love that fabled life she wanted to so desperately to live. Instead she lived in Tokyo and she was a Jujutsu Sorcerer and she most definitely did not have her family or her parents surrounding her.

She sighed, blowing a puff of grey smoke out of her mouth throwing the shrivelled cigarette into the dustbin. Oh yes. In another life, she would quit her smoking habit. She wouldn’t inhale the toxic fumes any more and she’d be free of her addictions.

Walking towards the sink in the morgue, she wiped the blood of her hands. It stuck underneath her fingernails and permanent shaded her fingers a light red. Forever a reminder of her job.

It could’ve been worser though, she thinks. She could’ve been like satoru or even nanami, dying in action in gruesome horrible ways. Maybe that fate would be better, instead of witnessing the dead corpse of her friends.

You lay on the embalming tables awaiting an autopsy waiting for the cause of your death to be found. It was clear though. The moment Itadori walked into the room carrying your lifeless body, it had been clear what had killed you. The hole where your heart should have been was large, so large she could see the table beneath you.

She looked you over once more before she shook her head. It was comical to say the least, you looked so peaceful, as if you were sleeping. Anyone could’ve mistaken you for resting. Anyone but her. She knew a dead person when she saw one and the blue of your once red lips was clear evidence.

Once, those lips would’ve been curled into a smile. Or they would be cracking a joke with satoru. You’d always been by him. Wherever you went, he followed. From your school days till now, it was clear his infatuation with you was more than just a silly crush.

It had been relieving for shoko when you finally confessed to him. Many years of shipping you together had payed off. Ever since, you’d both been lovesick for eachother. If shoko was being honest, sometimes she was jealous of the love you’d achieved.

If only suguru were there. He would be paying her a 1000¥ now. She pulled the white sheet above your head, refusing to look at your body any longer. It was saddening to say the least but shoko had practically become insensitive to seeing her close ones dead bodies in front of her. Or that’s what she would like to say.

Leaving the cold room, she returned to her office, digging for something in the cupboards. Ah. She pulled away after finding what she was liking for. A long sleek brown bottle anyone could realise harboured alcohol, you could practically see the contents spilling around through the brown transluecent material.

She took a long swig, feeling the burning liquid slide down her throat and settle in her empty stomach. Yes, shoko would like to believe she was insensitive to seeing the death of her loved ones but she would always down the bottle after.

Her eyes hooked on the picture on her desk from her jujutsu high days. Youth was evident and clear on all your faces. Sad that most of the ones in the picture were dead. Maybe it was by coincidence from the horrible settings that she realised that suguru had never been smiling.

His eyes were downcast, the loss of sleep clear in the slight dark circles beneath his eyes and in the mess of his once perfectly kept hair. How did she not realise then that her friend was struggling with something? How did you all not realise it? No, she was lying. You guys did, of course you noticed. But foolishly you just didn’t want to believe it. Believe that maybe your friend felt he wasn’t cut out for this life. It was clear in his reluctance to do anything.

Shoko took another swig of the bottle before setting it down on her oak desk, picking up the picture simultaneously. It was so clear now that he had been doomed from the beginning, suguru geto, the one who consumed curses.

It was no shock when he became one too. Shoko moved towards the window basking in the afternoon light for a few minutes, relishing the brightness of the sun that these days, never seems to come out.

She held the picture up one final time before she used the lighter and set the picture on flame. She watched as the faces of her friends were swallowed by the orange flame, consuming all she loved and leaving only ashes. She too soon blew those tensing ashes into the wind, watching as they flew on a phantom wind.

Turning back to her desk, she took a seat, finally allowing her limbs to rest from a long day. The ache was unbearable. She took another swig of the drink, relishing in the burning feeling. She would’ve liked to believe she was indifferent to seeing death but it would be a lie, one she repeated to herself over and over but she’d carry on drinking the alcohol either way.

©NYYRAMI24 do not copy, repost or plagiarise my work. if you enjoyed a like or reblog would be greatly appreciated.

#read!!

[scamsz]

❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞

OFFICIAL 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞

SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but without some obstacles of course: your cousin.

FAN FIC WORD COUNT: 20K+

WARNING TAGS: Modern!AU, no cursed magic, small age gap, Gojo is 30-31, reader is 24-25, hurt/comfort, angst, SLOW-BURN, torn PCL injury (not gojover), gojo lore, alcohol, dumb/clueless gojo, self-assured reader, groveling, nameless reader, nameless cousin, playboy gojo (he has a reputation), SMUT 18+, oral, penetrative sex, hand jobs, blow jobs, nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, semi-public sex (locker room), vanilla/soft sex, make-up sex, tension, cum eating, squirting, semi-manhandling (consensual), hair pulling, vocal gojo (whimpers/groans/moans), prone-bone position, missionary, doggy, and standing up sex.

STATUS: Ongoing

001 — LONG SHOT : 8K.

↳ 05/02/2024.

002 — 10K

↳ TBA

003 — ENDING : ?K

↳ TBA

TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @seajunie : @woahguy278 : @4townn : @miiyaaswrld : @forest4bee : @fadingpalacebonkpsychic : @usercpat : @rainzelenia : @bloopsstuff : @purplegemadventures : @cowsforkenji : @wateronlyhaha : @poet-dae : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @thvamour : @gojocupid : @julsssssss : @ssleepycenzi : @ri-sa20 : @3lliesrifle : @a-trashbag : @mjsnightmares : @forever-war : @en40p : @aishies-stuff : @allofffmypeaches : @laviefantasie : @ritsatoru : @ssleepycenzi : @roscpctals99 : @noyaskneepad : @dearneverland : @platrom : @jaegersity : @rjswrld

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my taglist:

©2024 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate.

#tbr

[scamsz]

body heat : gojo satoru

when satoru is sick, there’s not a lot you can do besides indulge him. he’s…a handful, some might label him. you? truthfully, you like to think he’s endearing. a handful all the same, but the variety that’s endearing.

“i’m cold,” he sniffles, looking at you with a pout as he lays snuggled up in bed. he’s warm—you made sure of that with the thermostat and the way he’s comfortably tucked in. but persistent as ever, he insists, “it’s freezing.”

“satoru, you’re not cold,” you fight back a smile, laying a hand on his forehead as you check on him, “but i can turn the heat up if you need.”

“no,” he shakes his head with a sigh, “if only there was some other way to keep me warm.”

he sighs again, deeper this time. a bit exaggeratedly. slightly hopefully as he eyes you for a quick moment before he’s looking down again.

“if only,” you nod in agreement, amused as he deflates when you don’t plan on giving him what he wants, “now off i go to make you soup—”

“i’m cold,” he reiterates, like you haven’t heard him the first billion times. maybe it’s time to try a trillion. “and i’m sick and i have a stuffy nose, see?” he sniffles for extra show as he points at his nose, “you can’t leave me here.”

“but you need to eat something,” you pinch his cheek, giggling at the way he leans into your touch even as he scrunches his nose at the tug at his skin. “and the blankets are plenty warm.”

“baby,” he whines, slumping in defeat as he finally looks at you with an unhappy glare, “i need body heat. it’s crucial to a speedy recovery.”

“is that so?” you raise an eyebrow, looking at him like you’re not convinced. “i don’t know, the doctor’s never say anything about body heat. they only mention—”

“shoko is a doctor and she said i won’t recover quick enough unless i have some body heat,” he’s quick to tell you. it’s said with a serious nod like he’s sharing information that’s a bit too important to ignore. “and if the strongest sorcerer this world has seen is out of commission for too long, who knows what’ll happen out there?”

“shoko cheated on her tests,” you deadpan. and then you grin teasingly as you add, “maybe we should call a real doctor and ask.”

“you only love me when i’m the strongest, don’t you?” he asks bitterly, glaring at you as his pout deepens. it’s a bit of a realer pout this time, not as theatric anymore, but possibly cuter. “now i’m weak and bed ridden and you won’t even cuddle me.”

“well, i wouldn’t say bed ridden,” you snort, cupping his cheek as he unhappily (but instantly) leans his face deeper into your hand, “i think you’re just looking to stay in bed all day. and be babied.”

“what gives you that idea?” he blinks innocently, “i’m deeply regretful i can’t be out there today. i was pained as i thought about the missions i would miss out on, y’know.”

you laugh, voice sounding like sun-warmed honey and burnt sugar. he grins ever so slightly at the sound, hand wrapping around your wrist as it continues holding the side of his face. your thumb is stroking his cheek by now, admiring the pale skin as your eyes wander to the pink of his stuffed up nose.

you can’t help but dip your head down and kiss the tip of it before you murmur, “just a bit and then i have to make you soup. can’t have you on an empty stomach.”

“but i’m cold,” he insists, voice bordering on a whisper, “you have to keep me warm.”

“yeah, alright,” you roll your eyes, shaking your head like it’s a burden to haul yourself beside him in bed and burrow under the sheets, like you’re reluctant to pull his body closer to yours and let his head tuck under your chin as he makes himself home on your chest. “you’re a handful when you’re sick.”

he knows. just like he knows you’ve been itching to crawl in beside him, just like he knows you’re not much longer from giving into him, just like he knows your hand will always find its way to bury into his messy hair and scratch at his scalp.

he knows, which is why he he grins as he yawns, “good thing you have two hands then.” he guides your other hand to find his back, staring up at you expectantly.

you huff, but you don’t hesitate to rub slow circles into his bare skin.

“this is probably gonna end with me getting sick too,” you mumble. he grins, bright as ever as if he’s excited by the idea.

“then i’ll take care of you,” he winks, “you’ll need a lot of body heat you, you know?”

“no,” you say unimpressed, “i think the higher ups might just kill me if i keep you home longer than needed.”

“they’re just a bunch of assholes anyway,” he mutters, “can’t have my baby cold and alone in bed.”

he’s huddled closer now, like he’s trying to melt into your skin. he feels like the first rays of sun at the crack of dawn, warmth seeping in as light coats over your skin. you wrap him up in your arms tighter, wondering if there’s something closer than close, if there’s a way to fight space itself and make satoru a part of yourself.

“i take it back,” you chuckle, “you’re a handful all the time.”

“i’ll ask shoko if she can work on getting you a few more hands,” he reassures, “that might help.”

“good thing we have shoko,” you sigh. and then you kiss him, softly as his cracked lips mold against yours and fight off space until your breath is his, and his breath is yours, and closer is as close as you can get. “still cold?”

he thinks for a moment before nodding, nuzzling his face deeper into your collarbone.

“yeah,” he grins into you, “might need to steal some more body heat.”

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ctrltoru — do not repost, translate, or plagiarize.

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