ladygojooo

[ladygojooo]

Sukuna the ruler of Mandalore

[ladygojooo]

Im afraid I cooked

[ladygojooo]

[ladygojooo]

Have bots gotten smarter? There’s this account that’s posting anime stories. Ie. Gojo x reader. Nanami x reader etc but if you click on “read more” it takes you to this site that says that dangerous format and software will infect my laptop/pc etc.

I recommend not interacting with this account.

This is the account…

[ladygojooo]

COME BACK GOJO

[ladygojooo]

🛹

[ladygojooo]

meme redraw (+ based on)

[ladygojooo]

geto ∩^ω^∩

ac: mossbun_

[ladygojooo]

The shadows stain the snow (but darling, I want you anyway)

Synopsis: Betrayal, duty, and death - these were the only things the world of jujutsu had ever given you for all that you toiled. A twin of one of the fallen, you left it all behind in the hopes of carving out a small bit of uneasy paradise for yourself.

You should have known it never was going to work.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader

WC: 1.8k

Content: light angst, marriage proposal, marriage of convenience, soft!Gojo, fluffy ending, pre-Shibuya arc

A/N: raaaaah, I was so tired of having this in my drafts, and though I think it's utter trash, maybe one of y'all will like it, lol. Satoru Gojo, my beloved, the man that you are <3

There was white everywhere you looked.

Seven years after you left, and you still couldn’t think of anything but him when you saw the stupid color. At least the sky was covered in clouds today. Sure, it made you feel boxed in, but it certainly wasn’t blue.

You shut off the ignition in your car, not giving yourself time to prepare for the bitterly cold air that you’d step out into. If Japan hadn’t accustomed you to its winter lows, then the Yukon Territory certainly did the trick.

As you stepped out of the car, you watched with faint amusement as your exhales wafted up and away into the air around you. It was the one thing that brought you a bit of joy during the winter season - always reminded you of incense, for some reason.

The warmth of your home hit you all at once, and you couldn’t help the sigh that left your body as you unbuttoned your jacket and hung it up on the coat rack right beside the door. You could hear the ham and potato soup you’d frozen calling your name, and as soon as you shucked all our outerwear, it would be a matter of minutes before you could consume it. It was truly one of the best Western recipes you’d found while in Canada.

You walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer, humming with glee when you saw the frozen soup sitting near the front. So focused were you on pulling out a pot and opening the container that you failed to notice the 6’3” man in black sitting at your kitchen table.

“You have enough for me?”

Over the rush of your heartbeat, you didn’t even realize that you’d thrown a knife from the countertop until you saw it floating a few inches out from his heart.

Gojo laughed. “Oh come on, is that any way to greet an old friend? I’m starving after all this travelling!”

You had two options at this point. 

One - you hadn’t seen Gojo in ten years. You could laugh with him like no time had passed, get out a bigger pot and some more soup, and catch up over dinner.

Two - you could take all the hurt, anger, and fear you were experiencing at that very moment and put it to good use. Maybe you’d even be able to turn him out of your house. Freezing to death would do him some good.

You chose the second option.

“What are you doing here, Gojo?” You hissed, not turning back to the stovetop quite yet. You didn’t trust him not to get up in your business and try to steal some food.

“I’m here for a nice, homemade meal,” he grinned, grabbing the knife, kicking his feet up onto your kitchen table, and lifting his hands up to rest on the back of his head.

You threw a spoon on the countertop at him for doing so, uncaring that his infinity would keep it from reaching him. “I’m insulted that you think I’m that stupid. This isn’t some wellness check.”

Gojo sighed and settled into the chair some more as the spoon clanged to the floor, dragging out each second just because he could.

“We need you to come back,” he said. “We’re in need of more sorcerers, and you’re a special grade.”

You were already shaking your head as you answered, “Absolutely not. I’m retired.”

“You ran away.” The subtle accusation screamed loudly, even as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Semantics.” You waved it away with the bigger pot that you retrieved from under the counter. “Besides, what does it matter? Not once was I needed for missions. Surely the higher ups would have sent out a search party to bring me back if they really needed me.”

“And just who do you think kept the higher ups off your back?”

And oh, how the temperature dropped, even if his voice remained chipper. Your hand froze where it was about to turn on the gas.

“You knew where I was this whole time?” You whispered, voice shaky.

In lieu of an answer, the chair Gojo sat on skid across the floor, protesting the movement. His footsteps moved closer to you, each one sending your heartbeat skittering faster. You didn’t remember shutting your eyes.

“Look at me,” he murmured from right behind you.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Look at me,” he repeated, grabbing your shoulders and turning you around. Still, your eyes didn’t open.

“Gojo, you can’t-”

“Why did you leave?”

His insistent tone had you opening your eyes, only to find the bandana gone and cerulean blue staring back at you. Your heart, despite all the dates and failed relationships you’d had between then and now, fluttered just like it did back in high school. 

He was there, for the first time in a decade, he was there with you. You’d forgotten just how much you craved his attention, his presence, his very being until now.

You wouldn’t have the strength to leave a second time.

“Because my brother didn’t have the answers either.”

You felt him still, and for the briefest of moments, you thought the last thing you’d see would be a blinding purple. Hell hath no fury like a Gojo scorned, after all. You learned that shortly after the Sorcerer Killer’s death, when Suguru told you of the sheer power that Satoru unlocked.

“You know,” you whispered, eyes flitting down to the buttons on his shirt, “why I couldn’t have stayed.”

Gojo hummed. “You could have.”

“And where would that have left me, hm? Stuck between dangerous mission after dangerous mission or fearing when the higher ups would give me a fatal mission to finish me off? That’s not a life for anyone, never mind me.”

“And you don’t think I would have protected you?” He asked, the back of his knuckles brushing lightly over your cheek. Your breath stuttered, even as your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Gojo, we were barely adults! Between everything else going on, you couldn’t have shouldered my burdens.”

He chuckled. “You don’t think I’m strong enough, do you?”

You rolled your eyes and glossed over the parting words your brother left him with. “Satoru Gojo, I know your strength firsthand from our days in school, and I assume you’ve only improved since then. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

He smiled warmly at your free admission and let his thumb brush over your cheek. “Come back with me to train the next generation of sorcerers, and I promise you’ll be safe.”

“Have you not listened to anything I’ve said?” You moved your head back the slightest bit. It certainly wouldn’t surprise you if Gojo let your arguments for staying away go in one ear and out the other. 

The white haired man shook his head. “I’ve listened to everything you’ve said since stepping foot in the house. I just have solutions to each and every one of your protests.”

You moved to push him away, but with his infinity up, he still stood there, mere inches away. It was having an annoyingly dizzy effect on you, if you were being honest. It pissed you off.

“Oh, really? Pray tell, o wise one, how are you going to keep the higher ups from retaliating or marrying me off to some creep who only wants me for my technique?”

“By marrying me, of course.”

You sent him the most deadpan look you’ve ever conjured in your life, hoping that he wouldn’t catch the genuine shock that ran through your body. “That is the worst plan you’ve ever come up with. Absolutely not.”

He whined around the smile on his face. “It’s not! Think about it - you get protection from the higher ups through me, I get to bring you back to train the students, and based on how long it’s socially acceptable to wait to have children once married, we can work out a plan for divorce in plenty of time. After that, you can come right back here and live out your days in lonely solitude.”

“No, Gojo. I’m not coming back, what’s not clicking here?” You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back - anything to get away from his puppy eyes.

“One of the first years is Sukuna’s vessel.”

Your head whipped down to meet his gaze, eyes wide once again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope!” Gojo chuckled. “Pretty great kid too. You’ll love him.”

The entire conversation was giving you whiplash to the extreme. Gojo showing up out of the blue, wanting you back at the school, offering to marry you to keep you from the higher ups, and now Sukuna, the feared King of Curses himself, was alive and trapped in an innocent boy.

The man really knew how to sweep you off your feet, you’d give him that much.

“Satoru, why do you really want me back?”

His lips slowly fell from a smile, and he backed away to look out the window to your right. Silence curled around you both, growing more suffocating by the second.

“Something big is coming,” he spoke lowly. “I don’t know what it is, but something tells me that it’s time to get my affairs in order. I-” He cut himself off with a harsh sigh and turned back to you once more. “I have my regrets, sure, but I don’t want you - not being with you - to be one of them.”

Your body moved of its own accord, letting an arm slip through his before resting your head against him. You breathed him in, sandalwood and bergamot and him in the best way possible. The fabric of his shirt brushed against your lips as you spoke.

“Can you really love me after all that’s happened? All this time?”

You missed the tender smile on his face. “I never stopped.”

Your breath shuddered as you buried yourself in his chest. After the betrayal from your brother, Satoru being ordered to kill him, the brutal argument you two had in Shoko’s morgue, all of it - you ran away to be free of the memories, the love strangling you every way you turned. You ran away because how could Satoru see you without seeing his best friend in your face? How could you face yourself in the mirror when all you saw was Suguru staring right back at you? How could anyone at Jujutsu High stand to be near you when all you were was a walking failure?

“And you’re sure you want me?”

“Well, it was either you or Utahime, so.”

You groaned and let your head drop to Gojo’s shoulder, slapping his arm a few times. “I hate you with a burning passion.”

“That’s the spirit!” He cheered, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

“You owe me so much kikufuku.”

“I’ll buy it all for you.”

“Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“This honeymoon better be at the beach.”

“Done.”

[ladygojooo]

ahhhh look at these cuties

[ladygojooo]

A blurb of a redeemed!Suguru fic that I'll probably never finish bc it's killing me slowly and surely-

You were drying off your hair when the door slammed open, causing you to jump and turn to see just who the intruder was.

You regretted looking as soon as you saw Suguru drinking you in with disbelief in his eyes.

The room was silent, save for his heavy breaths. It was as if no time had passed at all, the way he looked at you - so full of love and yearning so much so that he was asking you to leave jujutsu high, to build a life of bloodshed and genocide with him-

A flame danced in your hand, held out in warning when he was but a few steps away from you. 

He stopped, looked down at the flame, and then looked at you.

“Please,” he whispered, a shimmer barely there in his eyes. Just like how he looked when you saw him last.

“Why should I?” You hissed.

“Because-” a gulp- “because I need you.”

Rage coursed throughout your body at the sheer audacity of his statement. He needed you? What about you? Where was he when your heart was shattered after his defection? Where was he when you fought day in and day out to stay alive, fighting curses that never stopped coming? Where was he when you needed him?

“How dare you,” you spat, letting your fire grow bigger. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“You don’t.” He spread his hands out to placate you. “You’re right, you don’t. I’m asking to be put in your debt, just this once. Please- give me this.”

You hated yourself for knowing that you’d give in. You hated the way he still knew all the right words to say to take down your defenses. You hated him.

You hated him so much.

His arms engulfed you as soon as the fire went out. You hated yourself for wrapping your arms around him, for inhaling deeply and feeling a calm that you hadn’t felt in the years since Suguru’s defection. His hand stroked through your hair, just like he did before he went out to the village. You begged him not to go, to give the mission to Gojo so he could rest, but he refused. 

You often wondered when your Suguru died, replaced by a villain of the man you once loved.

“You’re alive,” he murmured into your hair, his hold on you tightening.

You hummed, eyes closed. Time crawled to a halt, letting you breathe him in.

“What a touching reunion,” Gojo laughed, clapping his hands in glee. “Might want to wrap it up though, Yaga’s coming.”

You drew back almost immediately. “What?”

[ladygojooo]

"entertain you?" you ask. "i hardly get paid to entertain others."

"oh c'mon. just one little shot, angel, hm? we can discuss further entertainment after that."

your gut sours. you're sure your face does too.

"whatever you think i am, i'm not some whore to be bought and sold. i run a reputable business here."

gojo's laugh is loud and hearty over the phone - so much so that you have to pull it away for a few seconds.

"reputable business - wow, that's a new one. if it's so reputable, do you think i should join? i've been meaning to take on some bounties myself. maybe i could start with the-"

crack.

you breathe heavily as you watch the glass in his apartment shatter. it's only what the cocky bastard deserves, making fun of you like that. any second now, blood should blossom on his chest, he should stagger back a few steps and drop dead, he should-

his smile sharpens to something wolfish.

he disappears.

there's a rush of air, and then-

"now now, is that any way to treat a handsome man?"

before you know it, your rifle is kicked away and you're flipped over. gojo genuflects over you, one knee to your left and one foot to your right. your arms are pinned above your head.

it's kill or be killed. you're not making it out tonight.

you watch him - or at least you think you do. kinda hard to tell where his eyes are at with his blindfold. his smile is still there.

"you've got some nerve, shooting at me while i'm working through a job proposition."

he-

he what?

"tell me, what's the price on my head look like these days? ten million yen? twenty million?"

"t- two hundred million," you whisper.

he doesn't even pause in shock before laughing. "of course the old geezers want me out that badly. i'm not all that surprised."

you watch as he takes one of his hands off your arms to take off the blindfold and wipe at his eyes. you sense your chance and try to dislodge him, but he doesn't move.

"now listen, sweets," he bends down, face inches from your own and blue eyes fully on display, "i can triple that money easily for another job if you'd like."

your eyes widen as far as they can go. triple the yen?! what's this guy made out of?!

"and just what would that be?" you're thankful your voice is steadier than you feel.

he looks you over and asks, "you've never been caught by your targets or seen by your employers, have you?"

you shake your head. "you're the first."

"excellent!" he delights in your response. "here it is - i'll give you access to the jujutsu higher ups, and you'll kill them for me."

you stare at him as if he's crazy (which he is. your targets have only ever pleased for their lives, not take you hostage).

"and just why would i do that?"

gojo lowers himself even more. his breath fans across your face. it smells sweet.

"because i know you're probably in desperate need of cash if you're taking up a hit on me, for one. and two, you're a beauty. i'd hate to cut you down in your prime."

the threat makes your eyes darken. you still can't move.

"fine. i'll do your dirty work."

gojo smiles and ducks his head to right by your ear. "i knew you'd come around, angel."

you can't stop the shiver that runs through your body at his proximity and the depth of his voice.

"i'll be in touch," he says as he pulls back and winks.

he disappears. you can move again.

you don't.

your phone buzzes.

see you in the morning with coffee, sweets! 🥰

you breathe.

"entertainment, huh?"

survival of the fittest.

you’ve been doing this for a long time now – mercernary work, and you’re good at it.

kill or be killed.

staring out of the window, you eye the pretty birds circling the street. they’re dancing and they’re singing, boasting about how great their lives are compared to yours. you don’t mind.

a child laughs somewhere down below. cars drive by, a motorcycle, a bike. it’s never quiet, it really never is. but the sounds get more muffled with every floor you climb, and now here on the tenth one, it’s not too bad. this is where you’re staying for the duration of the job; rented under a fake name, the apartment is a studio one. the windows are big and the ceilings are high – it’s perfect for your little spy work.

it’s all just human nature.

6’3, snow-white hair, azure blue eyes, muscular, with scars littered all over his body. the pride of the gojo clan and the first person to inherit both the limitless and the six eyes in four hundred years.

satoru gojo.

your mark.

he’s got quite the hefty price on his head, a lot of people want him gone from this world; he’s too strong, he’s too powerful – everything would be better, if he disappeared. you're just here for the paycheck though.

you’ve been observing him for five days now. with your eyes, with your ears. you’ve followed him through a shopping mall, watching him try on just about a hundred different outfits in about ten different stores. the man is well dressed, other than the outfit he likes to wear at home of course. a pyjama set – it’s white and pink with some kind of a cartoon character on the front of it. cute.

through the scope of the sniper rifle, you watch him live his life. he laughs with the servants in his fancy apartments, he makes jokes with the men that stand guard all day long. he likes to play video games and he likes to watch movies, he likes to work out, he likes to drink pink-colored milkshakes. he can’t sleep. he tosses and turns around in his bed at the early hours of the day, his eyes glued to the ceiling as if that’s going to help. sometimes, he paces around the room. sometimes, he does pushups. but none of it seems to work.

you see him yawn and you see the dark bags under his eyes.

he seems lonely.

it doesn’t matter.

(you are the same.)

he walks through his apartment with his head held up high, he waves the maids good night and they return the gesture with smiles. they seem genuine, and it’s a little hard to believe – this isn’t your first rich guy, your first pampered little boy, who doesn’t even realize what his life means. he doesn’t know what the word ‘work’ stands for, he doesn’t know what it means to survive. you’ve seen how people like him usually treat their servants, how they flinch at the smallest moves.

not with him though.

the air seems relatively light. you haven’t spotted a single tear or a frown from the people who work for him, they’re all seemingly having a blast. it’s interesting. perhaps he isn’t the prick everybody makes him seem to be, hm?

not that you care.

a ridiculously big number floats above his head and you don’t care. you need to live, too.

while he’s now alone in the apartment, you know for a fact there are two guards standing in front of the door and there are three of them down in the lobby. you can see one of them conversing with the doorman just now.

your eyes trail back up the building, the lit up windows and the blurry bodies that hide behind the curtains. he’s different; not once throughout the whole five days you’ve been here has he tried to shield himself from the world. not once has he tried to make your job any harder.

you can’t tell whether it’s arrogance or naivety. you’re leaning toward the former.

there’s a grin on his face.

hm.

what’s he up to now? a jerk-off session? that wouldn’t be new. or maybe he just remembered a witty remark he forgot to tell one of his maids. or is he’s just thinking about eating that ice cream he bought just yesterday? no, it's something else.

as a mercanary, you have to learn how to balance rational thinking and gut instinct. they’re both delicate things, they can change more than you’d ever assume and you have to accept that it’s important to listen to both. right now, your brain is telling you that this is just another night at the gojo apartment. he will watch a film and he’ll eat cereal and he’ll do some pull-ups and then he’ll try to sleep. but there’s this sinking feeling in your lower stomach.

and it only spreads as his smile widens.

he’s right there in your sights, handsome as ever, with your finger now resting on the trigger.

enough.

inhale.

but your breath hitches when he suddenly goes to grab his phone; standing in front of the window, he rests his hand on his hip while bringing the little piece of technology to his ear. it's definitely arrogance. you think of the money, you think of the life you could have. it’s just another job, it’s nothing personal. he doesn’t seem happy anyway. you’re doing him a favour.

it’s a dog-eat-dog world.

it takes almost no force at all to pull the trigger. you’re used to it.

exha—

your phone rings.

blinking into the scope, you try to stay on the middle ground between logic and instinct. he’s not the one calling. he isn’t. stop panicking. adrenaline pumps in your veins but you can’t look away. you feel eyes everywhere around you. you feel sick. he isn’t the one calli—

your phone rings again.

and you watch him raise his hand from his hip to point at his own as he stares right at you.

he’s across the street. he’s so far – you’re looking at him through a fucking scope, he cannot see yo—

ah... so, that’s how the six eyes really work, huh.

alarms blare in your mind. just pull the fucking trigger. the tiny crosshair is set on his forehead.

shoot him.

the corners of his eyes crinkle.

take the fucking shot.

he has dimples.

your hand reaches for your phone without you even realizing it.

"why are you taking so long?" he sounds giddy, he sounds fucking excited. "i'm bored out of my mind here, angel. c'mon– "

"entertain me, hm?"

[ladygojooo]

Crying 😭🩵

star wars x jjk au art so far...

master gojo and his padawan

“my eyes and the force tells me you are suguru geto but my soul knows otherwise”

[ladygojooo]

the coffee was cold now. you didn't know how to drink it when the act meant that you'd accepted something of his again.

giving was no problem - no, you had always been hasty to give, so worried that if you didn't sprinkle your friends with physical tokens of your affection, they'd up and leave you behind. you gave and gave and gave throughout your teen years with the six of you (it wasn't enough, why was it not enough, did suguru see through you and decide that you weren't worth it anymore) until there wasn't anything left. even then, you gave some more.

no, taking this cup of coffee - an espresso that had been made for you at least an hour before - meant that your whole perception of geto post-fight with yuuta and gojo had been wrong. it meant that he wasn't just back to keep the higher ups off him and his family. it meant that maybe, just maybe, he was back for you too.

that idea was quite absurd. he'd done nothing but snarl and brush you off with cold smiles and callous words. in fact, the only out of character thing he'd done the whole time he'd been back was accept the bag of coffee beans with a quiet 'thanks'. he wasn't the same as before.

you didn't think he'd ever be the same as before.

which is why you sat in the chair, cold espresso tauntingly in front of you, begging you to change your mind about how cruel suguru was. if nothing else, gojo would snatch it up and chug it, leading to an even worse time with the first years during their lesson. gojo and caffeine mixed together was a good recipe for disaster.

you leaned forward, picked up the cup, and drank the coffee in a few gulps.

you ignored the tears sliding down your face and your heart aching once more.

it was exactly how he used to make yours in high school.

(whoops, my hand slipped)

thinking about an au where satoru convinces suguru to come back to jujutsu high after his fight with yuuta… reformed cult leader sugu who is a lot more hateful than your suguru was, a little more dark and brooding, but still so undeniably soft for you :’)) that unspoken love between you that hasn’t faded even though you’ve both changed, even though you aren’t lovers anymore . you gift him a bag of coffee beans and your chest aches when you find out he only drinks tea these days but he thanks you quietly and when you wake up in the morning there’s a cup of espresso on the counter . i feel normal about this

[ladygojooo]

you don’t really realize you’re growing old with satoru until you spot a grey tress inside the roots of your hair as you’re looking in the mirror. the thing about marriage and life itself was that time really doesn’t stop—for no one. as you entrap the lock between your fingers, you murmur out to satoru with a cheeky grin. “satoru baby, c’mere.”and as he’s lying in bed with a wrinkled nose, he reads some book titled ‘three men in a boat.’ as he flips a thick page, his cerulean blue reading glasses crook down the bridge of his nose before he turns his attention toward you.

“yesss, honey?” he rubs his eyes, bringing a palm up to his growing stubble. as he got older, you noticed how he moved a bit slower. satoru was still fit as he aged, but he’d have a bit of a waddle whenever he walked. it was cute—how his limbs were getting more and more fragile, but he was still labeled as the strongest despite his inevitable aging.

he makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you make eye contact through the mirror that reflects you both, a happy married couple. “look, we’re finally matching now,” and his face softens once you bring the silvery colored strand up to his view. ‘matching,’ because his hair was naturally a snowy white . . almost similar to the strand of hair you just showed him.

although as the years progressed, satoru was growing ashen grey streaks too.

“i guess we are,” he replied in a gentle tone, his hands remaining on your hips. satoru’s touch was always gentle and ginger. he presses his lips near the back of your nape before letting off a soft sigh. “you’d look pretty with white hair, actually.”

“prettier than you?” you hum, glancing at him through the mirror. satoru towers over you as he holds you, the band of his wedding ring grazing against your hip.

again, you watch as the corners of his lips crease into a smile. a toothy genuine one where his dimples show.

“haha, veeeery funny,” and as he buries his face into your neck, he deeply ponders to himself for a moment.

to think . . how much time has passed, out of all the countless tiresome battles he’s had to face—

all those years at trying to keep the world safe and now, he could finally relax. having his arms around you gave him a peace of mind, and in the end it was all worth it because at the end of the day, satoru gojo—the strongest, came back to you. you were his personal safe haven and he was yours.

“but honeyyy,” he yawns with rosy pouty lips, shifting his chin up to rest against your left shoulder. satoru starts leading you toward your side of the bed. “ ‘s pretty late, let’s getcha back to bed, hm?”

“okay,” you mumble, already feeling your eyes starting to get heavy again. satoru’s still got his burly arms wrapped around your waist as he leisurely guides you back to bed. he was clingy, and that never changed. satoru gojo’s always been clingy ever since the two of you met. as he pulls down the cover for you to enter, you crawl back in and he gets beside you.

satoru slings an arm around you, pulling you close as his hooded eyes starts a staring contest with the swaying wooden ceiling fan.

it’s moving slow. . just like time was.

whenever he was with you, it felt as if time stood still. and as the both of you cuddled against each other with your head resting against his beating heart, he sighs. it’s a content happy sigh, and satoru’s hands find their way near the top of your head. his thin fingers maze it’s way near your soft grey growing strand before he leans in, giving the crown of your head a goodnight kiss. “mwah,” and he watches as your eyes briefly widen before glancing away, growing sheepish. “get some rest, my love. i’ll be here when you wake up. promise.”

you nod, too drowsy to reply and he pulls you closer. satoru’s heartbeat was steady and slow, and each pulse that bested against your ear made you felt more and more protected. as he holds you firm and close, a hand of his softly caresses your forehead—brushing against the soft hairs that cling onto your skin.

as your breathing starts to relax and your eyelids finally close, he realizes you finally drifted off to sleep. satoru exhales lowly, almost forgetting to take off his reading glasses. as he places them near the nightstand, he lies back down, giving your sleeping state once last glance.

“i love you,” he whispers against your ear before reaching for the pearled lamp switch. “so much.”your head nuzzles against his chest and he assumes that was your non-verbal way of saying it back, even in your sleep. cute.

the only sounds that could be heard were the faint tick tocking of the grandfather clock that stood near the hallway and your soft breathing as you deeply slept. satoru feels a smile tugging against his glossed lips yet again, but this time it’s different . .

it’s not the same smile from when you showed him that you were graying, it was a more genuine smile that was satisfied at everything—primarily at life. satoru’s long crystalline lashes gradually flap shut as he smiles to himself, a thumb brushing against your forehead. all those battles was worth it in the end, because right now, he’s at the only place he wanted to be . . with you.

life wasn’t a competition, but satoru finally felt at peace, true peace—and that peace was being in your presence. he wasn’t one for believing in good endings, but maybe this particular one wasn’t so bad.

“i . . won.”

[ladygojooo]

Neither Did I, My Dear (Nanami x Reader)

Synopsis: Five years - the amount of time you've been single, in university over in the States, and out of Japan. The amount of time you had to get over your ex.

Somehow, it wasn't enough.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x reader

WC: 2.3k

Content: exes to lovers, alternate universe - no powers, spiraling thoughts, hurt/comfort, angst, angst to fluff, fluffy ending, reconciliation (possibly OOC Nanami)

A/N: I tried, guys, I really did, but no guarantees that Kento is in character. I'm hoping that the more I write JJK fanfics, the easier it'll become to slip into their skins (metaphorically, lol). AO3 link here.

After five years in America, you’d forgotten how light Japan got in the springtime.

You didn’t really know how to put it, exactly, but it’s like you could see the sunbeams between the buildings and trees. You saw all the pastels and lighter colors of passerbys, the bright colors of the stands, the cherry blossoms - all of it was something you lost when you moved overseas for university. America had its vibrancy, sure, but it often was overwhelmingly grey. 

Even the peaches were softer and sweeter back in your home country. You smiled at the man running the stand, dropping the money into his hand and walking away with your find. Maybe you could make a nice peach cobbler, that was always your favorite dessert to eat when in the States.

Or, you thought as you were pushed and watched your peaches go flying into the air, maybe it would be better to force the person who ruined the peaches to pay for a new round.

“My apologies,” a baritone voice said, “I didn’t see you there.”

You looked up in spite of the unpleasant leap in your stomach to find him there.

Kento Nanami.

Valedictorian. Salaryman. Wannabe emo.

…and ex-boyfriend.

“It’s no problem,” you said, keeping your head down and gathering your peaches. “I’m not the best at watching my surroundings.”

He stayed quiet for a few moments, and for a brief second, you thought he’d move on and continue walking to wherever he had to go.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But, much to your chagrin, your name came forth from his lips, and all hope of walking away from this encounter without further interaction was dashed spectacularly.

“Nanami, hey.” Your smile felt more like a grimace, but you’d practiced in front of a mirror long enough to know that it would look fine. “How- how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well.” He bent down and picked up the last peach, putting it in the bag from whence it came. “I’ve been working for the past few years. It’s monotonous work at its finest, but there’s not much to complain about.”

“I’m glad work isn’t too much for you,” you said, keeping the strained smile on your face. “I know you worked hard to get to where you’re at.”

You both stood, letting the noise of the people moving around you fill the void that was your history.

He looked good. The lanky frame he had in high school had properly filled out, his hair had been cut and made him look professional, and the sunglasses - well, the sunglasses simply added onto the charm.

Not that there was any charm anymore. No. No, absolutely not. None.

“Would you-”

“I’ve gotta-”

You both stopped, caught off guard by speaking at the same time. “You first,” you insisted.

Nanami nodded in thanks. “Would you like to get coffee sometime? I’d like to catch up with you, if you’re willing.”

Your heart screamed in dread and delight at the proposition. It was everything you’d hoped for since he’d told you that the relationship was over, sure, but-

You’d spent five years trying to find some semblance of normal in the wake of the damage he left behind. Would intentionally meeting up with him undo all of that hard fought progress?

“I-” You cut yourself off and sighed. Who were you kidding? You still couldn’t say no to him, not even after all this time apart. “I’m free next Saturday.”

~~~

After exchanging numbers, texting back and forth sporadically, and figuring out a coffee shop which you both wanted to go to, you finally made it to the following Saturday.

You felt like you were going to puke.

Your nerves felt two seconds away from lighting on fire, which was a stark contrast to your deep and even breaths.

You felt like you were going to puke.

You leaned forward, your forehead touching the top of the steering wheel. Your eyes closed as you breathed yet again. How was this going to go? How could you stand in front of Nanami - purposefully - and not lose all the progress you made in moving on? Have you even moved on?

You felt like you were going to- 

“Alright, that’s enough, out of the car,” you told yourself, forcibly yanking your mind out of a downward spiral. You told Nanami you’d be here, and so help you if you skipped out of it because you were afraid of some stupid feelings that should have died a long time ago.

The shop bell chimed brightly as you walked in. It was a quaint little place, one recommended by Nanami himself, and one that you were quite taken by. Maybe you’d swing by here another time by yourself to enjoy it without the dread of talking to your ex hanging over you.

Speaking of, you heard him call your name from off to your right. Situated in the corner away from the other patrons was Nanami, two cups of coffee in front of him.

You waved, and as you drew close to the table, you spoke. “Hey, thank you for getting us a spot. I hope I didn’t keep you too long.”

“No worries. I wanted to make sure we had a spot that wasn’t in the midst of the shop. If I recall correctly, I know we both value peace and quiet.”

You were able to blame the way your eyes darted away from his on hanging your backpack on the back of your seat. It had been over five years since you last had any meaningful conversation with him, how in the world did he still remember that about you?

“I appreciate it, Nanami, thank you.” You smiled politely at him, hoping against hope that you weren’t blushing. “And thank you for the coffee. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense, I was the one to initiate this outing. It’s only fair that I cover the cost.”

You nodded once and took a sip. Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Is this a muddy mocha?”

“Yes. It’s still your favorite type of coffee, correct?”

You didn’t have an excuse to break eye contact, but your eyes still glanced down at the table for a moment. Goodness, you hoped your polite poker face extended to blushing as well. “It is, yeah.”

“Good,” he said. You looked up at him through your lashes again, catching the way the side of his mouth ticked up the tiniest bit. You answered his grin with one of your own.

~~~

Much to your surprise, you two had fallen right into conversation like no time had passed. Tales about university, dead end jobs, and daily life were exchanged freely. You got to tell him about your friend group over in America, and Nanami got to disclose all the details about what his friend group in Japan was up to (you dutifully ignored the pang in your heart as you remembered that they weren’t your friends anymore).

“And that’s,” he said chuckling, head tilted back ever so slightly, “how Haibara ended up getting the number of a convict.”

“Oh my gosh,” you laughed, hand covering your mouth so as not to disturb the rest of the cafe with how loud you were. “If you would have told me that sweet, innocent Yu would one day get the contact information for a lady who’s been arrested multiple times for public drunkenness, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“I still don’t.” Nanami’s voice sounded warm and inviting, just like-

Your laughter turned to sniffles and cries in an instant, and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t just remain happy. Why did you always have to do this to yourself?

You heard Nanami shift in his seat. “Are you okay?”

His question, so full of concern for your wellbeing, only pushed you closer to tears. You stood abruptly, gathering your cup and your backpack in a few seconds.

“This was a bad idea, I- I’m sorry, Nanami, I have to go,” you whispered, hand still over your mouth and half over your face as you tried to conceal your sudden shift in mood. You hurried over to the trash can by the front door and threw away the empty cup.

“Wait-”

His voice cut off as you pushed open the door, fleeing as quickly as you could.

You idiot, you knew that coming out was a bad idea, but noooo, you just had to go ahead and screw yourself over. All that progress, and for what? An outing you deluded yourself into thinking was a date?

“Stop.”

You didn’t have time to wipe your tears from your face as Nanami cornered you against the wall. The alleyway in which you two stood was abandoned, just like it was the day he broke up with you.

“It isn’t like you to burst into tears like that,” Nanami said, eyes creased with worry. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Let me go, Nanami,” you whispered, your head turned to the side so you didn’t look at him.

“Not when you’re upset like this.”

You laughed bitterly. “What makes you think you have the right to try to soothe me? Why start now?” Silence answered you, and you couldn’t help the splinter of your heart. “Just let me go, please.”

“Let me make this right,” he murmured, drawing closer. You shook your head.

“You can’t.”

Only a few seconds of silence passed before you felt his fingers gently take hold of your jaw and turn your head toward him. Two more tears dropped down your cheeks when your eyes met his. He wiped them away and settled his thumb along your cheek, letting it glide back and forth.

“I-” He sighed raggedly. “It hurts me more than ever to see you in pain. What did I do, and how can I fix it?”

You laughed around a sob stuck in your throat and tilted your head back, moving out of his grasp. His hand landed on your neck instead. Your eyes closed.

“For a moment,” you mumbled, “for a moment, I felt normal again. We used to do this all the time, back when we were in school, and for a second, it-”

You paused and breathed before you started crying harder. You already hated that there were tears streaming down your face, but the prospect of breaking down further terrified you. This was the same man who walked away after shattering your heart. You didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of him again.

“Kento,” you whimpered, body betraying you as more tears slipped down your face, “for the first time in five years, everything felt bright again. I felt at peace for the first time in so long, only to remember that this is going to end. We’ll both leave the coffee shop and go back to our regular lives, and that’s ok - it is - but-”

“Breathe, darling,” he said as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. It had always been a tried-and-true method that he used back in high school to calm you down, but after so long of not having him, it only made you fully burst into tears.

“It’s been five years, Kento, why do you still hold my heart captive?”

You couldn’t see the look of devastated longing on his face through your tears, but you could feel him guide you into his arms again. You felt his warmth and strength hold you as you fell apart for the first time in a long while. You felt him rock you back and forth as your tears soaked into his shirt.

You felt whole again in the arms of the man who broke your heart, and you hated it just as much as you loved him.

Only when your cries turned into the occasional sniffle did he speak again.

“I suppose we’ve both been holding each other captive, then.”

You couldn’t understand what he was talking about. “What?”

Kento shifted, drawing you the tiniest bit closer. His breath was warm where it fanned against the crown of your head. “I’ll be honest - I asked you out today to see if there was a chance you’d allow me to date you again. Ending our relationship was the worst decision I’ve made.”

You pulled away from his chest to look at him, hoping that your face didn’t appear pathetically hopeful. “What?”

His hand came once more to rest on your cheek, eyes flitting between yours. “My heart has always been yours, I just didn’t realize it until you disappeared the week after everything ended.”

“Kento…”

“Please, sweetheart,” he whispered, touching his forehead to yours, “let me win your heart over once again. Let me be yours.”

With his plea came two distinct paths.

The first? You could keep the walls you’d painstakingly built, back away from Nanami, and walk away. The path of your future would be blank and wide open, and you could mold it any which way you wanted. You could pursue further education, found a charity, rescue a dog or two - any and all of it, it was open to you.

And it seemed terribly unappealing.

The second? 

Well, you could lean forward and feel the warmth of his lips once more. You could spend more nights together, making dinner and watching tv before leaving for your apartment. You could hold his hand, exchange warm glances, and pepper his face with kisses. You could one day have and hold him, until death did you both part.

And so you leaned forward ever so slightly, bridging the chasm that stood between the both of you.

His lips, slightly chapped though they were, felt so much like home that it took an embarrassing amount of strength to keep standing and not fall completely into him. Kento’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he reciprocated.

“I never stopped loving you,” was the first thing out of your mouth when you pulled away. 

He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Neither did I, my dear.”