lovelybotblog
Lov!
18 posts
she/her ✶ 18 ✶ eng/spa
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lovelybotblog · 12 days ago
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It's him he's the princess
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lovelybotblog · 2 months ago
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People need to write more Suguru Geto fluff because every time I click that damn “suguru geto” tag nine out of ten posts are some hella crazy thirsty shit 😭😭😭 LIKE COME ONNNN I just want to read someone holding his hand and telling him everything is gonna be okay
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lovelybotblog · 2 months ago
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bed quem !
“– Who’s that cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ”
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satoru gojo! x female reader!
summary: You're at a party hosted by the company you work when fate brings you together with the most breathtaking man you've ever seen with a unique sense of humor, but, can you play along? contents: slight use of "y/n", suggestive, cursing, sunshine x grumpy, fluff, non-curse au word count: 8k
The investment fund you worked for, one of the great pioneers in the New York economy business, was throwing a party to celebrate the merger with a Japanese company, several exchanges of partners and workers between countries were already underway, and you were one of the workers who benefited with a promotion.
So at the same time you credited a small part of the celebration to your position as one of the new company's controllers. And also your colleagues in the area, because from time to time they came up to you to congratulate you.
“Hey, y/n!” You heard a voice calling you in a festive tone.
You looked around trying to find where that voice was coming from through the speakers that were playing electronic music louder than the normal for an executive event. The owner of the company loved to rock his parties, you could describe it as unforgettable and overdoing.
You were surrounded by people talking and dancing, your vision under the liquors you acquired during the night made your vision poorer and the phosphorescent colored lasers that ran throughout the event hall blinded you when they passed through your sight.
“Congratulations.” You felt the hairs on your neck stand up when you felt an unfamiliar grip on your shoulder, the warmth exuded from the voice meeting the flesh of your ear.
You glanced over your shoulder, taking a preemptive step back. “Jackson.” You greeted.
"If I was harsh with you earlier, it was because I wanted to motivate you." It was one of your male colleagues, not one you liked. “I always knew you'd get here.” You knew he hoped you didn’t.
“Thank you.” You responded with a pursed, thin, not heart-holy smile.
He mirrored your expression, taking a small breath before speaking again, “Now that we are in the same branch, any misunderstanding we may have had is best forgotten.”
You forced yourself to control your eyes from popping out of your sockets as your glare intensified, feeling the grip on the glass in your hand tighten. He was a real punk. When you were working for him as an analyst not more than a couple of months ago, he yelled at you calling you ‘useless bitch’ when his irreverent purchase went wrong and blamed you for your numbers being wrong (which were not), when he was the one risking it all for a few million when the estimates you’d given him were clearly low.
“You think so?” You didn't know if the heat you felt was because of your growing anger or the high temperature of the place.
“Definitely,” He answered you, letting out the annoying laugh that you had to endure so many times after hearing him tell one of his sickening jokes first thing in the morning. You brought your French 76 to your mouth, settling the taste of the vodka into your system to put up with more of the thug in front of you.“For the sake of the team.” He winked at you.
The glass stopped on your lips, your eyebrow suffering an unnoticeable twitch. For the sake of the team you should break the glass over his head.
“You guys having fun?” Another one of your colleagues joined the conversation, breaking the closeness the man had forced between you and him.
“Akira! I was hoping to see you.” Your voice came out with happiness, surrounding your senior colleague's shoulders, full of gratitude. She chuckled, fully knowing the reason for your mannerism.
“Am I interrupting something?" She questioned, bringing her index finger to her chin in curiosity, staring sharply at the man in front of you.
Who shook his head, bringing the hand that was previously on your shoulder to the back of his neck, a nervous giggle escaping from his lips. "Not at all, I was just congratulating y/n on her achievement."
Akira nodded, grappling one of her arms to your waist, her gaze not slipping from the man at any moment. The “Mama bear” nickname given by the employees was truly accurate and Jackson was a known pain in the ass, so it was her job to keep him in line. In addition to being treated with fear for being CFO, Akira was also respected for being the only woman with her position in the branch.
Jackson scanned the room, looking for someone else to bother, "If you'll excuse me, ladies." He vowed his head before leaving the scene.
You laughed next to your senior while watching the man's back. “He’s such a moron.”
“He is.” The woman sighed, finally concentrating on your state. “And I should get you a drink, we have to celebrate my little chick hatching.” Akita teased you, squeezing your side. She was the one you did your internship with. She made you go through hell with paperwork and marathons to hand out schedules from one executive to another, but with impeccable effort and paranoia of failure, you managed to get through it with honors.
You both walked towards the bar, making your way through the crowd and greetings from colleagues. You felt your feet starting to ache from the pointed heels you were wearing, shiny black with an ankle strap, they were beautiful of course, but they were higher than what you usually wore.
Although the thought of your accomplishment rolling through your head cancelled it out. You could claim to be happy, it had been a long time since you felt proud of yourself.
"You said earlier that you were hoping to see me, is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Akira asked you, her gaze searching for empty seats at the bartender's counter. Your arms let go of the woman when you realized how long you had been holding her.
"Oh, yeah. Before I came I was analyzing your idea of ​​buying that new company you rambled on a few days ago and it's actually not a bad idea, despite the small income they have now, in a year's time they will grow their incomes 45% percent. I think we should take the risk." You began to explain quickly and concisely as you were guided by the other. A smile escaping your lips at the idea of ​​all the new possibilities.
A small, incredulous laugh was heard from Akira, "M’kay, babes, I know you're all-excited and your child prodigy nature makes you hungry for action,” She interrupted herself to point to two lonely seats, heading towards them. “But enjoy your first big accomplishment.”
You felt a cold wave washing you out. Every cell in your body felt electrified, eager to learn, excited about how efficiently or poorly your ideas could turn out.
The other woman knocked the wood plank of the bar twice as she climbed onto the stool, you mimicked her action. “Two Margaritas, please.” She asked the bartender as he approached the two of you, he nodded at the petition and walked away.
You noticed that the bar was packed, people were really taking advantage of the free drinks. Groups stood close to the bar for easy ordering, couples were talking in the stools, and baristas paced back and forth with a mental list of the many orders.
“You are very smart, but you're also young. You shouldn't spend all your time working, go loco, screw up sometimes, it'll be okay." Akira lectured you, everyone with eyes could notice that you were a very committed person with the complement of your responsibilities, a little too much. "I know you mean well, but it can wait until we're on work hours." She continued, "We're at a party."
The party was formally work-related, so technically you were in work hours, you thought.
“When you get to your mid-forties depressive crises, you can bussy you up with work, but girl- a few years ago you were just a graduate, you still have time to live out the silly, saccharine crush and drunken weekends. What are you doing?” She made you question yourself.
You knew you were very dedicated to your career, but you realized you were starting to act like your father. A chill runned through your body.
"Look at me, I wish I had the availability you have." Your eyes scanned the woman from top to bottom. Her hair was thick and curly brown, her skin was a dark cinnamon color, and her eyes were tiger-like. Even though she had birthed two children, her curves were preserved intact.
I wouldn’t mind being busy if I looked like you in my forties, you restrained yourself to say. But you were a smart person, you understanded what she was trying to say from the beginning, the thing was that you had no motivation to do it.
The drinks arrived, “Thank you.” Both of you said to the bartender, following him with your eyes as he walked away again.
“I’m not a boring person.” You defended yourself, watching the woman raise her eyebrows and slightly widen her eyes.
“I know.” She answered, smiling with her lips, paying attention to the train of your thoughts.
“I go out.” You continued trying to remember interesting things you have done, Akira nodded as she said ‘okay’, “I date, I have gone on dates.” You added, remembering the dude who asked for your number in your local coffee shop and your old college friend who you ran into while waiting for the subway and asked you out, the one you’ve been texting for three weeks.
“I’m glad you do.” Akira responded, waiting for more opening from you. “My husband will pick me up, I can give you a ride if that's what you're worried about.” It was hard times with the security of women, she understanded if that’s what got you doubting, she would too.
“That would be nice.” You mumbled, that would change the cards on the table. You were celebrating, you reminded yourself. “I guess I could get a few drinks.” Akira’s composure regained its excitement.
“And maybe some shots after!” She added with a smile, moving closer to the edge of the stool.
“Yeah!” You nodded your head, trying to match her enthusiasm, realizing that maybe she was the one who needed the fun night and she was just trying to find a reason to go loco, as she said. There was obviously a lecture in her words, a try to change your mindset, and she kind of did, because you don’t remember well how she managed to convince you to drink the two margaritas. Then you ordered a line of shots that made the warm go up to your neck. Suddenly the loudness of the party didn’t bother you, and you felt happier, making you match your senior extrovertness.
People started to join your circle, one of your Mexican coworkers started shouting “Fondo, fondo, fondo!” As other of your coworkers drinked his beer from top to bottom. Everyone around cheered when he finished, it reminded you of your college days.
In any other business party that behavior would be completely judged, but apparently the ambience of this was given to do any kind of exaggerated outgoings for people to do. You knew that they were gonna regret that the day after and on Monday, everyone was gonna pretend they didn’t go nuts.
“Miss Campbell, the CEOs would like to introduce you to someone," One of the secretaries of the office whispered in Akira's ear, who nodded quickly. You got off the stool, reaching to your coworker, worried about being left alone.
“I'll be right back, wonder girl,” Your senior captivated your attention, patting you on the shoulder. “If you need anything, feel free to call me or text me, whatever.” She said before walking away, leaving you amazed that she looked like she hadn't had a drop of alcohol, walking upright and a stoic expression settling in when it came to business again.
You waved at her when Akira turned her head to see you, you smiled at her, trying to calm your nerves down when you noticed everyone around you was unknown to you. You stepped back to your seat but your back bumped into something.
“So, you are the wonder girl?” You heard a voice behind you making you jump, taking you out. You turned around, facing probably the most handsome man you have ever seen. You quickly noticed his unique white-snow hair, whose locks of hair decorated his big blue eyes as clear and bright as the sea water on a sunny day. The next thing you noticed was that he stole your seat, the one you left alone for like ten seconds. "I pictured someone different." He admitted with a smirk, letting a chuckle out.
You scoffed, trying to figure out if you were surprised by his boldness or his looks, probably both.
“Are you gonna tell me your name or…?” He asked, leaning his arm on the bar, tilting his head slightly, allowing himself the luxury of observing your facial features freely while you looked around to check that it wasn't a prank because there was no way someone could talk as shamelessly as him.
“My name? Who are you?” You questioned him. You noticed his slanted eyes, you assumed he was one of the Japanese employees who blended in with your company.
“I asked first,” He stated.
You huffed at his words, watching him roll back his shoulders, making you notice how broad he was compared to you.
You forced yourself to return your gaze to his eyes, not without first noticing the sunglasses hanging on his unbuttoned formal shirt, slightly giving more room to see his chest.
“And I didn't mean anything negative when I said I picture you differently.” The white-haired man clarified, leaning closer to your face. Even if you were standing and he was sitting, his face was leveled slightly higher. You crossed your arms, waiting to receive a worse comment, “I imagined someone more nerdy looking, maybe with ugly, giant glasses, and a somewhat evil personality.”
Your body relaxed at that, quickly changing your surprised expression to a questioning one, “What assures you that I’m not evil?”
He held your gaze for a few seconds, his smirk still plastered on his face. He leaned back, resting one arm on the bar and placing his other hand on his thigh. “Although you have quite a few envious people talking badly about you behind your back,” He began to speak, making you furrow your eyebrows at his words, “While I was waiting in line for my order to be taken, I noticed that, of all the people you were surrounded, you were the only one smiling so sincerely and purely the whole time.” He unfolded himself, his cheeky smile faded into a smaller but still sincere one.
“So, not only you stole my seat but you also were stalking me?” You pointed out, trying to focus on something other than the fact that someone who looks like him took the time to observe you. The heat returned to your neck and cheeks, it made you feel flattered, a bit of excitement even.
“Well, I'd say that you just happened to stand right in the spot I wanted to lay my eyes on. And the seat was empty, so I took it." He teased you, throwing his hands in the air.
“Oh, and you’re also a comedian.” You say before drinking the rest of the cocktail you still had in your hand, the ice cubes had already melted and the flavor was diluted. You were trying to figure out what to expect from this interaction.
Your sense of self-preservation was telling you to back away, he was making you nervous and that wasn't a good sign. You didn't know how to handle this type of situation -whatever his intentions were-, you deduced that he was probably just playing. But he was magnetic, he made your heart race, his mere presence was imposing. You felt drunk by the way his features seemed sculpted by the gods, by the way his voice was like a siren's song drawing you to the bottom of the sea, by the way his beauty numbed the pain caused by your heels.
He leaned forward as he watched you remove the contact of the glass with your lips, although it stopped midway when from the corner of your eyes you glanced at the way his arm muscles flex under the fabric of his white jacket, immediately sliding your gaze to his eyes. Now that he was closer you noticed how long and full his eyelashes were. “And you are pretty.” He admitted.
You feel your chest rise up and down at this, taking a deep breath that crashes into his face, making him flicker his eyelashes brushing the top of his cheeks. His innocent words might not have any meaning, he might be messing with you, but you also couldn't help the nauseous feeling of highschool-like when the popular guy smiles at you.
You didn't want to smile at his compliment, you didn't even know his name, you were being irreverent. But it was obvious that he worked for the same company, so it shouldn't be so dangerous to trust him, no, you shouldn't let your guard down. Your internal fight was making you more confused.
“I don’t know your name.” You verbalized when no other response came to your mind.
The man didn't seem unfazed, he quickly catched that his name was not your only concern. "Well I don't know your name either."
“But you know my nickname, I think that's already an advantage for you over my personal info. It’s only the fair to give me your name." You fought back.
His brows cured together with a hint of hesitation. His soft smile was intact but it was more than obvious that his thoughts were plotting, he licked his lips, “Then no names.” He proposed.
You could reject him and walk away from the situation without any problem, but you would be lying if you denied that you were curious about him. Plus Akira’s lecture had an impact on your brain chemistry.
“Fine by me.” You agreed, leaving the glass of your hand on the counter.
And as if planned, the barista just happened to leave three diluted reddish drinks that seemed to be cosmopolitans and another dark red glass in front of Gojo. “Thank you,” He muttered, handing the man behind the bar a generous tip. He turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye but you managed to look away before he catched you. “Are you keeping me company?”
“Uhm, weren’t you supposed to take this somewhere?” You pointed out the glasses on the counter.
“I am in no hurry.”
You raised an eyebrow at his immediate, smugly and playful response. “Won’t your friends miss you?” You questioned him with a smile at his smooth talk.
“They’ll understand.” He tried to play it off knowing damn well his friends were in fact not gonna understand.
“Kay’,” You nodded, leaning on one of your feet, your left hand playing with the edge of the counter next to you. “Cool, cool, cool.” You said, instantly regretting it.
You looked down as you pulled your beautiful black sheer dress with nude bottom from your stomach down, which had gathered at the base of your waist from when you were sitting.
You wanted to lean on something, preferably sit down, but you also didn't want to change the position of the man in front of you. You didn’t even realize you were stuck in the middle of his manspreading.
“So, are you staying with me?” His voice took you out of your thoughts as he rested his head on his bicep, lowering the level of his head to be able to connect his gaze with yours, still on the ground.
You couldn't help but let out a small smile as his eyes shone craving to capture your attention, his smile widening when he succeeded.
Then reality hit you, you shouldn’t like being enthralled by his charms, you couldn’t. It was exciting, yes, but it was wrong because, “I’m with someone.”
That sounded ugly, it turned your stomach to say that, but it turned your stomach more to see his smile slowly disappear, you were starting to get used to it.
“I mean, he’s not my boyfriend yet.” That garbage of a sentence escaped from your mouth, the man in front of you tilted his head as a confusion expression grew on his face, “But I’m talking to someone, and he might get to be my boyfriend at some point,” You should stop talking, “-and I think it would be immoral of me to talk to you being aware of the other person's feelings, not that I think you’re flirting with me! Ha-ha,” You should really stop talking, “He trusts me, I wouldn’t like to betray him.” You finally finished, letting out a sigh, closing your eyes against your verbal diarrhea, that was humiliating.
That's why you didn't go on dates or go crazy like Akira told you, because everything ended up screwed up like now, painfully accurate like she said. You were about to apologize and leave, your burning face buried in your hands as a bursted laugh cut you up.
“Good, I hate betrayal,” he told you, his accent slipping through his words. You separated two spaces between your fingers to make way for your eyes, noticing that his hands were now resting on his knees, at your sides. He offered you a soft smile as he tried to imagine a man more handsome, polite, stronger, funnier and skillful -in any kind of way- than him, but he couldn’t, “But us sharing a drink while we chat isn’t overstepping the mark, is it?”
You thought about it a bit, you didn’t know anything about him, but he was at the company party, so he had to work in one of the companies, probably the Japanese one, and seeming that they became one, that turns you into coworkers sharing time to strengthen the union of companies. Camaraderie, that’s it.
“I guess not.”
His smile grew -watching as your expression relaxed- proud and cheeky, but his eyes remained soft, trying to remain understanding if you denied his invitation.
Even if he was a smooth talker, when it came to girls he never really needed it, it was natural that they always approached him. But you were a totally different kind of afterglow, everything he'd heard about you, good or bad, wasn't enough to prepare him for a stunner like you.
If he took your seat, it wasn't because he wanted to sit as he said, but because from the moment he was in line to order you caught his eye, eclipsing everyone in the room, making his legs weak with your dancing silhouette under the fluorescent lights of the disco and your smile that could light up the darkest nights.
“Okay, then let’s talk,” The mysterious man pressed, his gaze piercing your hands still over your face, trying to see that little giddy smirk of yours. He pulled away again and slid one of his drinks towards you. “You set the limit.”
You let out a giggle-sigh like, he was truly breathtaking. And a skilled manipulator, because it was the first time a man charms had convinced you to give in to your own warnings.
You shifted your weight to your other foot, still hesitant, “Fine.” You agreed, lowering your guard as you reached out to the drink, the tip of your fingers brushing against his as he took a couple of seconds to let go of the glass that shuddered on your hand when you were obnoxiously pushed from behind with a subsequent ‘sorry' from a person poking their head in the bar trying to get the barista’s attention.
“Let’s go to the sofa, it’s too noisy here.” You forced yourself to say to the white-haired man in front of you when you noticed the slight annoyance that grew on his eyebrows towards the person who pushed you.
He nodded, as you didn't miss the way he effortlessly took the remaining three drinks between his long fingers. When he stood up you felt a flutter run through your body when you noticed how he towered you and his muscular shoulders and flexed arms significantly framed your figure.
He guided you, making you way through the crowds, to where you had previously pointed out some sofas in the corner of the place, which although it was the quietest area, it was only because all the people there were flirting or hiding in the darkness to smooch. If he was honest, he wouldn't mind if your old monologue was thrown out the window and you opted for the second option.
He sat down first, then you imitated him, putting more distance between the two of you that you would like.
“I don’t bite.” He growled at you, watching as you leaned over on the edge of the sofa now gaining enough confidence to attentively observe the drinks he had placed on the table in front of you.
He rolled his eyes although that was just a facade to hide the fact that he almost tripped when you were walking behind him and he peaked a glance at you just to catch you checking him out.
In any other time he would use that to make the other person nervous, but in this case, your case, was just different. He knew you were smart enough to quickly throw a comeback, and even if it wasn’t a very strong one, you had the power to make him giggle with anything you said and he still couldn’t understand that.
“Are you serious? Cranberry juice?” You snatched at him, passing your nose over the glass he previously had in his hand, completely ignoring his silent request. “This is what kids drink.” You chuckled.
He raised an eyebrow, placing his arm on the back of the sofa and cupping his cheek on his hand, expectant to hear your thoughts.
“I understand if drinking isn’t your hit, but there are so much better things to drink, you know?” You said as you turned to him, returning your gaze to his eyes.
“Like what?” He played along with you, a roguish tone dancing in his voice, low and taunting. You noticed how his eyes traveled from you to the arm's length of empty space between you, clearly bothered by it. “Something like that?” He loosely pointed out the drink in your hand, the one offered to you earlier.
“I mean, this has alcohol, but yeah,” You responded, you knew what was probably coming next but you still let it continue.
He smirked, beautifully, godly and unreal. He was the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime, the type of person that leaves you awestruck with his beautiful, ethereal presence. And you had him in front of you, talking to you so casually, so willing to do what you said that made you annoyed.
It took your breath away to think how far you could take it.
“I wouldn’t mind trying it.” His calm voice silenced the techno music blasting your ears. You reached your hand towards one of the cocktails on the table, but he stopped you, “No, I want to try that one.” His gaze layed on the glass held by your fingers.
When he told you he wanted to share a drink you didn’t expect to be literal.
“All three drinks are the same,” You clarified, the corners of your mouth curling up but freezing the moment the white-haired man slid across the sofa towards you in one motion.
The fresh, mannish scent of his perfume made its way into your nostrils.
“But this one looks extra delicious,” he replied, watching the way your lashes brushed against your high cheekbone in disbelief. “Would taking a sip be crossing the line?” He continued talking, placing his hand on top of yours that was holding the glass, you were as surprised as he was that he dared to do so.
It took you a couple of seconds to release your grip on the glass until you were sure he had a good hold on it. You were really trying not to fall for his charms, for the sake of your situation-ship, but it was like his hands were meant to meet yours.
You watched him bring the glass to his lips, his attention never leaving your expectant eyes. You brought a hand over your heart and formed a fist as you felt the rhythm increase and beat harder when you realized your knee was brushing against his.
“Did you like it?” You forced yourself to ask, biting the inside of your cheeks trying to ignore the heat that grew after taking awareness of your contact with him.
He took the glass from his lips with a tight-lipped smile. At this point the alcohol punch should already be settling and his tongue flavoring the acid from the cranberry and lime juice. He slowly nodded at your question, trying to widen his smile but it only turned into a distorted grimace.
You let out a chuckle, his eyebrows unknitted together when you inadvertently patted him on the shoulder, “Do you want to spit it back into the glass?” You questioned, noticing how his cheeks were still puffed out.
He nodded again, quickly bringing the glass to his mouth to spit the liquid out of his mouth, not before covering the action with his free hand to not disgust you.
“Yuck…” He chirped while his facial muscles twitched, leaning towards the table to leave the glass, you were close enough to catch a hint of his perfume in the breeze he produced. Yet you got so carried away that you didn't notice when your body moved forward on its own to catch more of him.
It smelled woody, sensual and expensive.
“I like your scent.” You took the opportunity to give him a compliment when he had his back turned, a way of establishing that you had no problem with him.
You sat up straight again, nervously playing with your fingers, glancing at his profile, catching a pleased smile forming on his face.
“Thank you.” He appreciated, bringing one knee up onto the sofa as he twisted his torso to look at you again, a witty smirk warning you, “Now let me smell you.”
That hitched your breath, unsure if you heard right. “Kinky~,” You tried to tease him.
“You heard me right, don’t think I didn’t notice you sniffing me.” He laughed, sounding coming from the belly, like when children laugh and throw themselves back.
You felt the heat burn your cheeks, if it weren't for the low lighting of the place, you're sure you would be as red as a cherry. You had just been exposed by him.
“It’s only the fair!” He recalled your earlier complaint.
“What? No!” You replied with a frown, crossing your arms with your hands on the opposite shoulder as you remembered that your dress made you sweat, so you probably wouldn't smell as nice as you did in the beginning of the party. Plus, it was a ridiculous request to ask and accept.
“Why?” He asked, still with his playful tone lingering.
“Because it’s weird!” Your voice rose in exasperation, nearby couples looking at you in annoyance, causing the white-haired man to suppress a laugh when your tense expression turned into one an anxious one, wishing to stop being the center of attention.
“Well, then I could say the same about you.” Compared to you, he remained calm despite the insinuations.
Your head moved slowly from side to side, you couldn't believe how intimate the situation felt, the way his voice coaxed you, or why you were still there with him despite your own limitations.
It was clear that he was attracted to you, but you didn't understand why. He could have anyone he wanted, he could bewitch people with his mere appearance, and yet you were the person in the room he devoted his time to.
He confused you, he made you doubt yourself and your knowledge, when in your whole life you had always had everything clear and established.
You didn't know if he was a divine gift, or if he was a test of restraint.
“Come on.” He pressed on, adjusting himself in his seat, a smug grin widening in his face.
A flutter began to trot across your chest, your fingers pressed deeper into your skin, the thought of his figure near you made your body tingle.
“This is such a weird way to flirt,” You muttered, lowering your gaze to the sunglasses hanging on his shirt.
“I don’t see anyone flirting.” You heard him reply in the same low tone as yours, moving closer.
You couldn't even look him in the eyes, you were too embarrassed at the realization that you liked his attention, because you shouldn’t.
“You are stupid,” You said under an incredulous chortle, letting your arms slide down your body into your lap.
You felt guilty for keeping talking to him knowing his intentions and your reveries about the cute boy in front of you.
It wasn't entirely your fault, because although the guy you were romantically involved with was smart, attentive and average looking, but he was also kind of boring, you could never laugh with him because he never understood your jokes and he was quite judgmental.
Maybe it was just excuses, like the ones cheaters make after committing the act.
“Then let me continue being stupid,” he said, putting his arm on the edge of the sofa behind you. Your heart lifted as you felt his figure close once again, heat beginning to ignite your body.
From then on everything began to feel like it was in slow motion, from the moment you looked up and you were enchanted by his sparkling and magnetic eyes, as blue as the sea in summer, until your head leaned back without your order, opening the way for your bare neck as if you didn’t owned your body.
And you sat there, waiting for him to get close, “Am I crossing a line?” He mumbled just a palm away from your face.
“You’re about to.” You responded in the same playful tone with a bit of a warning written under lines which was forgotten the instant he made you nervously giggle when you felt his warmth breath electrify the bridge of your neck, causing your skin to prickle.
His hand was still on the side of your hip, his forearm gently brushing your waist, almost unnoticeable if it weren't for the heightened level of your senses. It was like you were trapped in a bubble, immersed in innocent intimacy.
“Am I crossing the line?” He teased you, his azure gaze connecting with yours, leaning forward just a few inches from your skin.
His malicious smirk spread across his face, making you roll your eyes at his mischief. He was too cheeky, too cocky.
You felt so hot, both because of the temperature of the place and the situation. He laughed, confident and amused by the situation. Having him close, led you to notice that he was as tipsy as you.
You looked up at the ceiling to try to ignore the reasonably strange looks from the people around you, although you could still get a sight of the man's whitish hair at the corner of your eyes.
It didn't take long for you to feel his nose touching and sniff the crook of your neck, hitching your breath, “Am I crossing the line now?” He whispered, sending a goosebump through your spine. You slowly shook your head, trying to keep your hand on your lap and not brushing with your fingers his hair that looked so silky and shiny, that even from a distance it was easy to detect the smell of his shampoo.
Then his touch traveled from your cleavage to the crease of your armpit and you quickly pushed him back with a hand on his chest, he immediately bursted out laughing.
“What is wrong with you?!” You scolded him, smacking him in the chest, dying of embarrassment. Your face burned hotter than you'd ever felt before, your nose and cheeks itched and burned as if a bucket of boiling water had been thrown on you.
He was lying on his shoulders, his chest going up and down with each laugh he let out, you could distinguish his abdomen contracting even through his shirt.
“M’ sorry! Sorry, ” He apologized amidst giggles, trying to sit up, one of his hands traveling to your wrist when you tried to stand up. “Just so you know- you didn’t smell bad at all.” You stood up again with your back to him, but he pulled you back and turned you around, plopping down on the couch again, “In fact, you smelled like really good.” He promised now seated properly.
His jeering voice had faded into a convincing sweet one, with puppy eyes and all.
“Don’t go.”
You should, but didn’t want to.
“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, well- I did want to annoy you but because that’s the only way you look me in the eyes with your eyebrows furrowed and a little pout.” He started chattering, desperate to explain himself.
Your eyes traveled to his grip on your wrist, just tight enough to keep you close without hurting you, one of his fingers slowly massaging the palm of your hand to calm you down. “You command.”
You looked up again, now watching him lick his plump pink lips. Your breathing was labored, your thighs were pressed together, and your free hand was squeezing your knee.
Something inside you felt minisculely change, your gaze joined with his felt heavier and more connected than before, it was as if you could feel him deep in your chest, like a knot that you couldn't swallow.
“Is your heart racing?” He asked you in a breath, his hand twitched against your skin.
“How do you know that?” Your breath was trapped, trying to climb up your rib cage, sending a burning ache you couldn’t let out.
“Well, because mine is,” He let out with a chuckle, bringing a hand to his chest and pressing it into a fist when he felt his heart was going to jump out.
You wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream, both at the same time. The feeling of his eyes made you feel as if you two were dancing under a spotlight in a room full of darkness.
At first you thought it was his incomparable beauty that kept you hooked on the conversation, but it was actually him, his jokes, his teasing, who made you feel like you were in a fever dream.
And he was the one who was confessing to you that his heart was racing, he was the one who looked at you like if you were a tasty meal he craved, he was the one who you would allow to pin you down on the floor just because his jokes just hit different.
He scooched over to you, his free hand laying on the side of your thigh, his thumb caressing over the cloth of your dress, trying to steal your attention out of your thoughts. And when you did, you drove your eyes to him, although you felt unable to hold his gaze, his eyes softly sparked with his pupils dilated and his grin stretched, his head tilting afterward.
Your mouth was gaped half open, being interrupted by a shy beam spreading across your face, sinking at your sight. Your body moved closer to his and you giggled, after the nervous cute rant the man in front of you threw, now you couldn’t deny to yourself that he was genuinely interested in you. Unthought-of words were about to spill out of your mouth.
“Gojo!” Gojo?
A loud, rigid voice broke the moment, whisking away your low guard, walls starting to build up again. By inertia you removed your hand from his grip.
“Satoru Gojo!” Satoru? “You have erased any non-existent respect I had for you.”
The white-haired man paled, his expression twisted as he slowly turned towards the voice marching angrily towards your way.
“Nanamin- ouch!” The man in front of you standed, trying to defend himself two seconds before being flicked in the forehead. Your eyes went wide.
“You prick, do you know how important the man you promised to invite a drink is?” A stoic voice coming from a muscular body spoke. You knew him, blond hair, prominent cheekbones and deep eye bags due to overwork. “Y/n…” His hard expression faded when he noticed your presence.
Kento Nanami, you were colleagues in the same branch, he was transferred from the Japanese company no more than two months ago.
“Hey,” You greeted him with a sheepish smile, standing immediately when he addressed you.
His hazel eyes analyzed you and then the man in front of you, well, Satoru Gojo, now you knew his name.
“You know each other?” Satoru questioned, adding himself in the conversation, one eyebrow raised mistrustfully, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“I didn’t know you hung out with people of his kind.” The blonde man told you, straightening his tie, embarrassed that you saw the stiff demeanor he specifically saved for Gojo, who Nanami looked up and down.
“My kind?” The white-haired man whined, a hand on his chest exaggerating his offended feelings. “How do you know each other?” He pressed, masking a smile, trying to step closer to you but ineffectively succeeding through being pulled by the collar of his jacket by the other man.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you, y/n.” Nanami turned to you, his friendly tone returning with a subtle smile. “But our flight back to Japan leaves in less than eight hours and we still have to apologize for ditching an executive and finish packing.”
“Wait-” Satoru called.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The blond man apologized, pushing his companion away.
“No, Nanamin-” He was cut again.
Your gaze tried to pay attention to Nanami but Satoru's voice stole your attention, leaving your stomach in knots from the rush. The white-haired man who was constantly covered by his colleague tried to connect his gaze with yours, the urgency to find a way to contact you again grew in him.
“We shall go.” Nanami quickly said goodbye, pushing Satoru into the sea of people again, you tried to keep up with them. But you got stuck in a crowd of unknown people, you didn't even had the chance to stop them, to say goodbye to him.
A sudden, despondent weight fell upon you. That newly found harmony had been overwritten, you were left with a disjointed heartbeat and unfinished confessions. You felt as if you had been thrown into the driest and hottest desert, accompanied by a withered hope.
You sat down in the first seat you found, your legs feeling devastated not only by tiredness, but also by the fact that you actually got carried away by a conversation with someone whose name you didn't know. You never had experienced this, what should you do? You weren’t sure if you should even look into the matter further. You wanted to think that it was meant to end like this anyway, after all that was the agreement, just a quick chat over a drink.
Your stomach felt queasy, although that was probably due to the alcohol you had ingested.
What ifs came to your mind, what if even after all Satoru was actually playing? Nanami said ‘his kind’, what kind? A player? You didn’t believe that was the case, still, it wouldn’t surprise you if it was.
But, what if everything was truly heart-felt? What if the mesmerizing glimmer of his eyes when he soft-spoke to you was sincere? That damn drowning blue eyes, mocking pearly-white smirk, face carved by the gods and purring delirious voice.
You buried your head in your hands and lost count of the time you spent replaying the memories of the night in your head over and over again, every look, every touch, every breath taken.
You deep in thought scolding yourself at how ridiculously pathetic you were for giving so much importance to an interaction that you didn't know if your thoughts intensified the relevance when someone tapped your shoulder.
“Y/n.” Someone sweetly whispered.
When you raised your head you saw Akira in front of you, a pleased smile on her face. She didn't even knew the reason why you were melted in your seat alone but she could assume it was because you followed her advice.
“It’s time to go home.” She continued saying. You covered your eyes with one hand to block out the radiance of the lights, you didn't even notice when the place began to empty.
“Okay,” You accepted, getting up from your spot, the woman in front of you linked her arms with you to give you support, now the liquor had hit you properly. “My head hurts.” You complained.
“Wait ‘till tomorrow, it will get worse.” She laughed as you growled.
You both walked to the reception to pick up your jackets and bags and then went out to the entrance of the place, watching the cars passing by on the street, not taking long to find Akira's husband's car, who greeted you from the driver's seat.
Akira helped you get into the back seat and then climbed into the passenger seat, you quickly closed your eyes and leaned your head back. You heard her ask if you were okay and you just nodded, taking a sip of the water she offered you.
Your mind was no longer worried about giving the direction of your apartment because they already knew the way from the times you invited them to eat dinner, now you could agonize in peace of mind while you fell asleep.
The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature.
The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature, your consciousness was about to turn off when a 'ding' woke you up, you grimaced at it and tried to go back to sleep, since the ride to your house was long, but the same sound rang out again.
You turned on your phone screen and the notification bubble returned energy to your body.
Nanami (work):
Satoru Gojo
Create new contact / Add to existing contact
You scrolled down the messages and it was an attached photo, you clicked on it and zoomed it, it was a photo of Gojo asleep in the Uber, your lips curved up when you saw how angelic he looked when he wasn't acting like a jerk, his long eyelashes curled when they reached his high cheekbones and his hair looked more disheveled than when you met at the beginning of the night.
The photo had a description on the foot.
Nanami (work): I just send you his contact. If you're really going to give him a chance, do it soon because he whined until he fell asleep about how I sabotaged his chance with a ‘baddie’.
You couldn't help but laugh at Nanami's message and his sincerity. I made you question if he phrased it that way to help his friend or to boycott him. Even so, a relief began to drain your dreadful thoughts from your body, as if that revelation canceled all your personal issues to resolve.
And It did, a little, because deep down you knew that what you lived was real, that the way he saw you was how you supposed, that everytime he tastes cranberry juice he’ll think of you.
But what you didn't know was that you left quite an impression, and that you enchanted him and became the reason his heart pounds even if you're not around.
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hi guys!!! I saw a tiktok of a girl who said she wanted to read something about satoru with sabrina’s song bed quem so I worked on it. please tell me if this funny or weird because wrote it in the lapse of 3 weeks and idk how to feel about it. share your thoughts pls, also, I kinda have planned a part 2 idk if you’ll be interested 😉😉
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lovelybotblog · 2 months ago
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— suguru geto x reader, college au, slight smut.
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academic rival!geto who constantly gets a headache from the fact that you're not only a painfully know-it-all, but you're also a beloved campus sweatheart, and also a hotshot.
academic rival!geto whose eye twitch when he sees your name written on the book loan tracker in almost every book he has taken out from the library.
academic rival!geto who knows that if you two share a class, it will be a battle of who answers the most questions from the professors.
academic rival!geto who sits behind you so he doesn't see your face and yet every time he adjusts in his seat or he speaks up to ask a question, you turn around and stare at him with a piercing glare and furrowed eyebrows since the past one and a half year.
academic rival!geto with whom you often have obnoxious duels of intelligent and subtly offhand comments in front of the entire lecture hall.
academic rival!geto who rarely sees you without your groupies (friends of your sorority) surrounding you.
academic rival!geto who pretends not to notice the way your friends just happens to have something to do the moment a frat boy comes up to you ludicrously cocky, flexing his biceps with a cringy pick up line to ask for your socials.
nerd/academic rival!geto who knows you are way too smart to agree to the man’s offer, -wait, no way- why you’re laughing and slowly blinking and twisting your hair?!
academic rival!geto who doesn't care what you do but always stays long enough to eavesdrop when he hears someone mention your name.
academic rival!geto who gets dragged by his high school friend satoru to the party his fraternity is hosting.
academic rival!geto who is plopped on the living room couch of the fraternity, playing with the plastic cup of beer resting on his chest when his attention is stolen by the glorious way you make your entrance to the place, a shiny, golden aura around you.
academic rival!geto who tries not to look too much in your direction while you're talking to the monkey-man who asked for your number in the hallway a few days ago and wonders if your bar it that low.
academic rival!geto who gets nauseous from the way you dance close to the guy, his hands running along the sides of your body and his front hip stuck to your bum.
academic rival!geto who now can't take his eyes off your silhouette coiled around the boy's neck while you kiss him fervently, suddenly a tick in the back of his head begins to annoy him.
academic rival!geto who feels an immense heat grow and his soul leave his body when your gaze catches him staring at you.
academic rival!geto who throat’s go dry as you throw a mocking smirk his way with your chin resting on the frat boy's shoulders.
academic rival!geto with whom next monday of the party you get paired with to do the final presentation of the semester.
academic rival!geto who you invite to your sorority to do the work.
academic rival!geto whose calculator distant gloomy demeanor disappears when finds himself alone with you in your room and turns into a fidgety, easily blushed bag of flesh.
academic rival!geto who gets teased by you with double meaning sentences about the happenings in the party.
academic rival!geto who can’t get focused into the writing in his computer after he put on his reading glasses and your eyes got stick in him.
academic rival!geto who gives in to your bombardment of questions and explains that he doesn't wear his glasses in class because he doesn't like the way it makes his eyes smaller.
academic rival!geto who gets flushed when you steal his glasses and put them on you, asking him if you look nice, and he denies so you get closer to him and tell him to be honest, and he says yes just so you don’t get close again.
academic rival!geto who kinda starts liking his glasses when you smile pleased and put his glasses on him again, slightly brushing your soft fingers to his cheekbones and hair when you do it, telling him it looks good on him too.
academic rival!geto who after a couple of work sessions realizes how much stuff you have to put up with and carry because people think highly of your pretty, popular, intelligent self. Not forgetting how busy you must be for being the leader of your sorority and cheerleader for the university rugby team.
academic rival!geto who finally accepts his friends invitation to go to the rugby game where -oh surprise- you are cheering.
academic rival!geto who’s the one that catches your eye from the massive crowd while you are up in the air doing a torch motion.
academic rival!geto whose gaze constantly drifts from the field to the bench on the sides where you rest after you finish your set.
academic rival!geto who at the last meeting for the project invites you to his bedroom.
academic rival!geto who invites you to his bedroom to practice your presentation for the project.
academic rival!geto who tries not to think that you stood him up because of the rain when it was already more than forty minutes after the agreed time.
academic rival!geto who gets surprised by your soaking figure at his door.
academic rival!geto who lends you a t-shirt and sweatpants while he puts your clothes in the dryer.
academic rival!geto who feels like a creep when his eyes linger on your exposed collarbone because of how big his shirt suits you or the way your hips get exposed when you raise your arms to stretch.
academic rival!geto with whom you obviously succeed with the work and receive an exceptional grade.
academic rival!geto whom you invite to go get a coffee at the local cafe on campus to celebrate.
academic rival!geto who has you pinned into the cafe bathroom wall while making out with you.
academic rival!geto who finally went down and filled you with two of his fingers with his right hand while his left covered your mouth because you couldn't keep quiet.
academic rival!geto who you hear chuckle as your nails dug into his shoulders while his head is buried between your legs tasting you, hungry and messy.
academic rival!geto who you watch redo his bun after messing it up when you pulled him by his hair to bring him back into your mouth.
academic rival!geto who leaves the bathroom after you, smirking and strolling all-mighty as if he had just won a war when almost a month ago he was sat next to you on the verge of falling off the edge of the bed because his hands sweat if he got closer to you.
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lovelybotblog · 2 months ago
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bed quem !
“– Who’s that cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ”
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satoru gojo! x female reader!
summary: You're at a party hosted by the company you work when fate brings you together with the most breathtaking man you've ever seen with a unique sense of humor, but, can you play along? contents: slight use of "y/n", suggestive, cursing, sunshine x grumpy, fluff, non-curse au word count: 8k
The investment fund you worked for, one of the great pioneers in the New York economy business, was throwing a party to celebrate the merger with a Japanese company, several exchanges of partners and workers between countries were already underway, and you were one of the workers who benefited with a promotion.
So at the same time you credited a small part of the celebration to your position as one of the new company's controllers. And also your colleagues in the area, because from time to time they came up to you to congratulate you.
“Hey, y/n!” You heard a voice calling you in a festive tone.
You looked around trying to find where that voice was coming from through the speakers that were playing electronic music louder than the normal for an executive event. The owner of the company loved to rock his parties, you could describe it as unforgettable and overdoing.
You were surrounded by people talking and dancing, your vision under the liquors you acquired during the night made your vision poorer and the phosphorescent colored lasers that ran throughout the event hall blinded you when they passed through your sight.
“Congratulations.” You felt the hairs on your neck stand up when you felt an unfamiliar grip on your shoulder, the warmth exuded from the voice meeting the flesh of your ear.
You glanced over your shoulder, taking a preemptive step back. “Jackson.” You greeted.
"If I was harsh with you earlier, it was because I wanted to motivate you." It was one of your male colleagues, not one you liked. “I always knew you'd get here.” You knew he hoped you didn’t.
“Thank you.” You responded with a pursed, thin, not heart-holy smile.
He mirrored your expression, taking a small breath before speaking again, “Now that we are in the same branch, any misunderstanding we may have had is best forgotten.”
You forced yourself to control your eyes from popping out of your sockets as your glare intensified, feeling the grip on the glass in your hand tighten. He was a real punk. When you were working for him as an analyst not more than a couple of months ago, he yelled at you calling you ‘useless bitch’ when his irreverent purchase went wrong and blamed you for your numbers being wrong (which were not), when he was the one risking it all for a few million when the estimates you’d given him were clearly low.
“You think so?” You didn't know if the heat you felt was because of your growing anger or the high temperature of the place.
“Definitely,” He answered you, letting out the annoying laugh that you had to endure so many times after hearing him tell one of his sickening jokes first thing in the morning. You brought your French 76 to your mouth, settling the taste of the vodka into your system to put up with more of the thug in front of you.“For the sake of the team.” He winked at you.
The glass stopped on your lips, your eyebrow suffering an unnoticeable twitch. For the sake of the team you should break the glass over his head.
“You guys having fun?” Another one of your colleagues joined the conversation, breaking the closeness the man had forced between you and him.
“Akira! I was hoping to see you.” Your voice came out with happiness, surrounding your senior colleague's shoulders, full of gratitude. She chuckled, fully knowing the reason for your mannerism.
“Am I interrupting something?" She questioned, bringing her index finger to her chin in curiosity, staring sharply at the man in front of you.
Who shook his head, bringing the hand that was previously on your shoulder to the back of his neck, a nervous giggle escaping from his lips. "Not at all, I was just congratulating y/n on her achievement."
Akira nodded, grappling one of her arms to your waist, her gaze not slipping from the man at any moment. The “Mama bear” nickname given by the employees was truly accurate and Jackson was a known pain in the ass, so it was her job to keep him in line. In addition to being treated with fear for being CFO, Akira was also respected for being the only woman with her position in the branch.
Jackson scanned the room, looking for someone else to bother, "If you'll excuse me, ladies." He vowed his head before leaving the scene.
You laughed next to your senior while watching the man's back. “He’s such a moron.”
“He is.” The woman sighed, finally concentrating on your state. “And I should get you a drink, we have to celebrate my little chick hatching.” Akita teased you, squeezing your side. She was the one you did your internship with. She made you go through hell with paperwork and marathons to hand out schedules from one executive to another, but with impeccable effort and paranoia of failure, you managed to get through it with honors.
You both walked towards the bar, making your way through the crowd and greetings from colleagues. You felt your feet starting to ache from the pointed heels you were wearing, shiny black with an ankle strap, they were beautiful of course, but they were higher than what you usually wore.
Although the thought of your accomplishment rolling through your head cancelled it out. You could claim to be happy, it had been a long time since you felt proud of yourself.
"You said earlier that you were hoping to see me, is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Akira asked you, her gaze searching for empty seats at the bartender's counter. Your arms let go of the woman when you realized how long you had been holding her.
"Oh, yeah. Before I came I was analyzing your idea of ​​buying that new company you rambled on a few days ago and it's actually not a bad idea, despite the small income they have now, in a year's time they will grow their incomes 45% percent. I think we should take the risk." You began to explain quickly and concisely as you were guided by the other. A smile escaping your lips at the idea of ​​all the new possibilities.
A small, incredulous laugh was heard from Akira, "M’kay, babes, I know you're all-excited and your child prodigy nature makes you hungry for action,” She interrupted herself to point to two lonely seats, heading towards them. “But enjoy your first big accomplishment.”
You felt a cold wave washing you out. Every cell in your body felt electrified, eager to learn, excited about how efficiently or poorly your ideas could turn out.
The other woman knocked the wood plank of the bar twice as she climbed onto the stool, you mimicked her action. “Two Margaritas, please.” She asked the bartender as he approached the two of you, he nodded at the petition and walked away.
You noticed that the bar was packed, people were really taking advantage of the free drinks. Groups stood close to the bar for easy ordering, couples were talking in the stools, and baristas paced back and forth with a mental list of the many orders.
“You are very smart, but you're also young. You shouldn't spend all your time working, go loco, screw up sometimes, it'll be okay." Akira lectured you, everyone with eyes could notice that you were a very committed person with the complement of your responsibilities, a little too much. "I know you mean well, but it can wait until we're on work hours." She continued, "We're at a party."
The party was formally work-related, so technically you were in work hours, you thought.
“When you get to your mid-forties depressive crises, you can bussy you up with work, but girl- a few years ago you were just a graduate, you still have time to live out the silly, saccharine crush and drunken weekends. What are you doing?” She made you question yourself.
You knew you were very dedicated to your career, but you realized you were starting to act like your father. A chill runned through your body.
"Look at me, I wish I had the availability you have." Your eyes scanned the woman from top to bottom. Her hair was thick and curly brown, her skin was a dark cinnamon color, and her eyes were tiger-like. Even though she had birthed two children, her curves were preserved intact.
I wouldn’t mind being busy if I looked like you in my forties, you restrained yourself to say. But you were a smart person, you understanded what she was trying to say from the beginning, the thing was that you had no motivation to do it.
The drinks arrived, “Thank you.” Both of you said to the bartender, following him with your eyes as he walked away again.
“I’m not a boring person.” You defended yourself, watching the woman raise her eyebrows and slightly widen her eyes.
“I know.” She answered, smiling with her lips, paying attention to the train of your thoughts.
“I go out.” You continued trying to remember interesting things you have done, Akira nodded as she said ‘okay’, “I date, I have gone on dates.” You added, remembering the dude who asked for your number in your local coffee shop and your old college friend who you ran into while waiting for the subway and asked you out, the one you’ve been texting for three weeks.
“I’m glad you do.” Akira responded, waiting for more opening from you. “My husband will pick me up, I can give you a ride if that's what you're worried about.” It was hard times with the security of women, she understanded if that’s what got you doubting, she would too.
“That would be nice.” You mumbled, that would change the cards on the table. You were celebrating, you reminded yourself. “I guess I could get a few drinks.” Akira’s composure regained its excitement.
“And maybe some shots after!” She added with a smile, moving closer to the edge of the stool.
“Yeah!” You nodded your head, trying to match her enthusiasm, realizing that maybe she was the one who needed the fun night and she was just trying to find a reason to go loco, as she said. There was obviously a lecture in her words, a try to change your mindset, and she kind of did, because you don’t remember well how she managed to convince you to drink the two margaritas. Then you ordered a line of shots that made the warm go up to your neck. Suddenly the loudness of the party didn’t bother you, and you felt happier, making you match your senior extrovertness.
People started to join your circle, one of your Mexican coworkers started shouting “Fondo, fondo, fondo!” As other of your coworkers drinked his beer from top to bottom. Everyone around cheered when he finished, it reminded you of your college days.
In any other business party that behavior would be completely judged, but apparently the ambience of this was given to do any kind of exaggerated outgoings for people to do. You knew that they were gonna regret that the day after and on Monday, everyone was gonna pretend they didn’t go nuts.
“Miss Campbell, the CEOs would like to introduce you to someone," One of the secretaries of the office whispered in Akira's ear, who nodded quickly. You got off the stool, reaching to your coworker, worried about being left alone.
“I'll be right back, wonder girl,” Your senior captivated your attention, patting you on the shoulder. “If you need anything, feel free to call me or text me, whatever.” She said before walking away, leaving you amazed that she looked like she hadn't had a drop of alcohol, walking upright and a stoic expression settling in when it came to business again.
You waved at her when Akira turned her head to see you, you smiled at her, trying to calm your nerves down when you noticed everyone around you was unknown to you. You stepped back to your seat but your back bumped into something.
“So, you are the wonder girl?” You heard a voice behind you making you jump, taking you out. You turned around, facing probably the most handsome man you have ever seen. You quickly noticed his unique white-snow hair, whose locks of hair decorated his big blue eyes as clear and bright as the sea water on a sunny day. The next thing you noticed was that he stole your seat, the one you left alone for like ten seconds. "I pictured someone different." He admitted with a smirk, letting a chuckle out.
You scoffed, trying to figure out if you were surprised by his boldness or his looks, probably both.
“Are you gonna tell me your name or…?” He asked, leaning his arm on the bar, tilting his head slightly, allowing himself the luxury of observing your facial features freely while you looked around to check that it wasn't a prank because there was no way someone could talk as shamelessly as him.
“My name? Who are you?” You questioned him. You noticed his slanted eyes, you assumed he was one of the Japanese employees who blended in with your company.
“I asked first,” He stated.
You huffed at his words, watching him roll back his shoulders, making you notice how broad he was compared to you.
You forced yourself to return your gaze to his eyes, not without first noticing the sunglasses hanging on his unbuttoned formal shirt, slightly giving more room to see his chest.
“And I didn't mean anything negative when I said I picture you differently.” The white-haired man clarified, leaning closer to your face. Even if you were standing and he was sitting, his face was leveled slightly higher. You crossed your arms, waiting to receive a worse comment, “I imagined someone more nerdy looking, maybe with ugly, giant glasses, and a somewhat evil personality.”
Your body relaxed at that, quickly changing your surprised expression to a questioning one, “What assures you that I’m not evil?”
He held your gaze for a few seconds, his smirk still plastered on his face. He leaned back, resting one arm on the bar and placing his other hand on his thigh. “Although you have quite a few envious people talking badly about you behind your back,” He began to speak, making you furrow your eyebrows at his words, “While I was waiting in line for my order to be taken, I noticed that, of all the people you were surrounded, you were the only one smiling so sincerely and purely the whole time.” He unfolded himself, his cheeky smile faded into a smaller but still sincere one.
“So, not only you stole my seat but you also were stalking me?” You pointed out, trying to focus on something other than the fact that someone who looks like him took the time to observe you. The heat returned to your neck and cheeks, it made you feel flattered, a bit of excitement even.
“Well, I'd say that you just happened to stand right in the spot I wanted to lay my eyes on. And the seat was empty, so I took it." He teased you, throwing his hands in the air.
“Oh, and you’re also a comedian.” You say before drinking the rest of the cocktail you still had in your hand, the ice cubes had already melted and the flavor was diluted. You were trying to figure out what to expect from this interaction.
Your sense of self-preservation was telling you to back away, he was making you nervous and that wasn't a good sign. You didn't know how to handle this type of situation -whatever his intentions were-, you deduced that he was probably just playing. But he was magnetic, he made your heart race, his mere presence was imposing. You felt drunk by the way his features seemed sculpted by the gods, by the way his voice was like a siren's song drawing you to the bottom of the sea, by the way his beauty numbed the pain caused by your heels.
He leaned forward as he watched you remove the contact of the glass with your lips, although it stopped midway when from the corner of your eyes you glanced at the way his arm muscles flex under the fabric of his white jacket, immediately sliding your gaze to his eyes. Now that he was closer you noticed how long and full his eyelashes were. “And you are pretty.” He admitted.
You feel your chest rise up and down at this, taking a deep breath that crashes into his face, making him flicker his eyelashes brushing the top of his cheeks. His innocent words might not have any meaning, he might be messing with you, but you also couldn't help the nauseous feeling of highschool-like when the popular guy smiles at you.
You didn't want to smile at his compliment, you didn't even know his name, you were being irreverent. But it was obvious that he worked for the same company, so it shouldn't be so dangerous to trust him, no, you shouldn't let your guard down. Your internal fight was making you more confused.
“I don’t know your name.” You verbalized when no other response came to your mind.
The man didn't seem unfazed, he quickly catched that his name was not your only concern. "Well I don't know your name either."
“But you know my nickname, I think that's already an advantage for you over my personal info. It’s only the fair to give me your name." You fought back.
His brows cured together with a hint of hesitation. His soft smile was intact but it was more than obvious that his thoughts were plotting, he licked his lips, “Then no names.” He proposed.
You could reject him and walk away from the situation without any problem, but you would be lying if you denied that you were curious about him. Plus Akira’s lecture had an impact on your brain chemistry.
“Fine by me.” You agreed, leaving the glass of your hand on the counter.
And as if planned, the barista just happened to leave three diluted reddish drinks that seemed to be cosmopolitans and another dark red glass in front of Gojo. “Thank you,” He muttered, handing the man behind the bar a generous tip. He turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye but you managed to look away before he catched you. “Are you keeping me company?”
“Uhm, weren’t you supposed to take this somewhere?” You pointed out the glasses on the counter.
“I am in no hurry.”
You raised an eyebrow at his immediate, smugly and playful response. “Won’t your friends miss you?” You questioned him with a smile at his smooth talk.
“They’ll understand.” He tried to play it off knowing damn well his friends were in fact not gonna understand.
“Kay’,” You nodded, leaning on one of your feet, your left hand playing with the edge of the counter next to you. “Cool, cool, cool.” You said, instantly regretting it.
You looked down as you pulled your beautiful black sheer dress with nude bottom from your stomach down, which had gathered at the base of your waist from when you were sitting.
You wanted to lean on something, preferably sit down, but you also didn't want to change the position of the man in front of you. You didn’t even realize you were stuck in the middle of his manspreading.
“So, are you staying with me?” His voice took you out of your thoughts as he rested his head on his bicep, lowering the level of his head to be able to connect his gaze with yours, still on the ground.
You couldn't help but let out a small smile as his eyes shone craving to capture your attention, his smile widening when he succeeded.
Then reality hit you, you shouldn’t like being enthralled by his charms, you couldn’t. It was exciting, yes, but it was wrong because, “I’m with someone.”
That sounded ugly, it turned your stomach to say that, but it turned your stomach more to see his smile slowly disappear, you were starting to get used to it.
“I mean, he’s not my boyfriend yet.” That garbage of a sentence escaped from your mouth, the man in front of you tilted his head as a confusion expression grew on his face, “But I’m talking to someone, and he might get to be my boyfriend at some point,” You should stop talking, “-and I think it would be immoral of me to talk to you being aware of the other person's feelings, not that I think you’re flirting with me! Ha-ha,” You should really stop talking, “He trusts me, I wouldn’t like to betray him.” You finally finished, letting out a sigh, closing your eyes against your verbal diarrhea, that was humiliating.
That's why you didn't go on dates or go crazy like Akira told you, because everything ended up screwed up like now, painfully accurate like she said. You were about to apologize and leave, your burning face buried in your hands as a bursted laugh cut you up.
“Good, I hate betrayal,” he told you, his accent slipping through his words. You separated two spaces between your fingers to make way for your eyes, noticing that his hands were now resting on his knees, at your sides. He offered you a soft smile as he tried to imagine a man more handsome, polite, stronger, funnier and skillful -in any kind of way- than him, but he couldn’t, “But us sharing a drink while we chat isn’t overstepping the mark, is it?”
You thought about it a bit, you didn’t know anything about him, but he was at the company party, so he had to work in one of the companies, probably the Japanese one, and seeming that they became one, that turns you into coworkers sharing time to strengthen the union of companies. Camaraderie, that’s it.
“I guess not.”
His smile grew -watching as your expression relaxed- proud and cheeky, but his eyes remained soft, trying to remain understanding if you denied his invitation.
Even if he was a smooth talker, when it came to girls he never really needed it, it was natural that they always approached him. But you were a totally different kind of afterglow, everything he'd heard about you, good or bad, wasn't enough to prepare him for a stunner like you.
If he took your seat, it wasn't because he wanted to sit as he said, but because from the moment he was in line to order you caught his eye, eclipsing everyone in the room, making his legs weak with your dancing silhouette under the fluorescent lights of the disco and your smile that could light up the darkest nights.
“Okay, then let’s talk,” The mysterious man pressed, his gaze piercing your hands still over your face, trying to see that little giddy smirk of yours. He pulled away again and slid one of his drinks towards you. “You set the limit.”
You let out a giggle-sigh like, he was truly breathtaking. And a skilled manipulator, because it was the first time a man charms had convinced you to give in to your own warnings.
You shifted your weight to your other foot, still hesitant, “Fine.” You agreed, lowering your guard as you reached out to the drink, the tip of your fingers brushing against his as he took a couple of seconds to let go of the glass that shuddered on your hand when you were obnoxiously pushed from behind with a subsequent ‘sorry' from a person poking their head in the bar trying to get the barista’s attention.
“Let’s go to the sofa, it’s too noisy here.” You forced yourself to say to the white-haired man in front of you when you noticed the slight annoyance that grew on his eyebrows towards the person who pushed you.
He nodded, as you didn't miss the way he effortlessly took the remaining three drinks between his long fingers. When he stood up you felt a flutter run through your body when you noticed how he towered you and his muscular shoulders and flexed arms significantly framed your figure.
He guided you, making you way through the crowds, to where you had previously pointed out some sofas in the corner of the place, which although it was the quietest area, it was only because all the people there were flirting or hiding in the darkness to smooch. If he was honest, he wouldn't mind if your old monologue was thrown out the window and you opted for the second option.
He sat down first, then you imitated him, putting more distance between the two of you that you would like.
“I don’t bite.” He growled at you, watching as you leaned over on the edge of the sofa now gaining enough confidence to attentively observe the drinks he had placed on the table in front of you.
He rolled his eyes although that was just a facade to hide the fact that he almost tripped when you were walking behind him and he peaked a glance at you just to catch you checking him out.
In any other time he would use that to make the other person nervous, but in this case, your case, was just different. He knew you were smart enough to quickly throw a comeback, and even if it wasn’t a very strong one, you had the power to make him giggle with anything you said and he still couldn’t understand that.
“Are you serious? Cranberry juice?” You snatched at him, passing your nose over the glass he previously had in his hand, completely ignoring his silent request. “This is what kids drink.” You chuckled.
He raised an eyebrow, placing his arm on the back of the sofa and cupping his cheek on his hand, expectant to hear your thoughts.
“I understand if drinking isn’t your hit, but there are so much better things to drink, you know?” You said as you turned to him, returning your gaze to his eyes.
“Like what?” He played along with you, a roguish tone dancing in his voice, low and taunting. You noticed how his eyes traveled from you to the arm's length of empty space between you, clearly bothered by it. “Something like that?” He loosely pointed out the drink in your hand, the one offered to you earlier.
“I mean, this has alcohol, but yeah,” You responded, you knew what was probably coming next but you still let it continue.
He smirked, beautifully, godly and unreal. He was the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime, the type of person that leaves you awestruck with his beautiful, ethereal presence. And you had him in front of you, talking to you so casually, so willing to do what you said that made you annoyed.
It took your breath away to think how far you could take it.
“I wouldn’t mind trying it.” His calm voice silenced the techno music blasting your ears. You reached your hand towards one of the cocktails on the table, but he stopped you, “No, I want to try that one.” His gaze layed on the glass held by your fingers.
When he told you he wanted to share a drink you didn’t expect to be literal.
“All three drinks are the same,” You clarified, the corners of your mouth curling up but freezing the moment the white-haired man slid across the sofa towards you in one motion.
The fresh, mannish scent of his perfume made its way into your nostrils.
“But this one looks extra delicious,” he replied, watching the way your lashes brushed against your high cheekbone in disbelief. “Would taking a sip be crossing the line?” He continued talking, placing his hand on top of yours that was holding the glass, you were as surprised as he was that he dared to do so.
It took you a couple of seconds to release your grip on the glass until you were sure he had a good hold on it. You were really trying not to fall for his charms, for the sake of your situation-ship, but it was like his hands were meant to meet yours.
You watched him bring the glass to his lips, his attention never leaving your expectant eyes. You brought a hand over your heart and formed a fist as you felt the rhythm increase and beat harder when you realized your knee was brushing against his.
“Did you like it?” You forced yourself to ask, biting the inside of your cheeks trying to ignore the heat that grew after taking awareness of your contact with him.
He took the glass from his lips with a tight-lipped smile. At this point the alcohol punch should already be settling and his tongue flavoring the acid from the cranberry and lime juice. He slowly nodded at your question, trying to widen his smile but it only turned into a distorted grimace.
You let out a chuckle, his eyebrows unknitted together when you inadvertently patted him on the shoulder, “Do you want to spit it back into the glass?” You questioned, noticing how his cheeks were still puffed out.
He nodded again, quickly bringing the glass to his mouth to spit the liquid out of his mouth, not before covering the action with his free hand to not disgust you.
“Yuck…” He chirped while his facial muscles twitched, leaning towards the table to leave the glass, you were close enough to catch a hint of his perfume in the breeze he produced. Yet you got so carried away that you didn't notice when your body moved forward on its own to catch more of him.
It smelled woody, sensual and expensive.
“I like your scent.” You took the opportunity to give him a compliment when he had his back turned, a way of establishing that you had no problem with him.
You sat up straight again, nervously playing with your fingers, glancing at his profile, catching a pleased smile forming on his face.
“Thank you.” He appreciated, bringing one knee up onto the sofa as he twisted his torso to look at you again, a witty smirk warning you, “Now let me smell you.”
That hitched your breath, unsure if you heard right. “Kinky~,” You tried to tease him.
“You heard me right, don’t think I didn’t notice you sniffing me.” He laughed, sounding coming from the belly, like when children laugh and throw themselves back.
You felt the heat burn your cheeks, if it weren't for the low lighting of the place, you're sure you would be as red as a cherry. You had just been exposed by him.
“It’s only the fair!” He recalled your earlier complaint.
“What? No!” You replied with a frown, crossing your arms with your hands on the opposite shoulder as you remembered that your dress made you sweat, so you probably wouldn't smell as nice as you did in the beginning of the party. Plus, it was a ridiculous request to ask and accept.
“Why?” He asked, still with his playful tone lingering.
“Because it’s weird!” Your voice rose in exasperation, nearby couples looking at you in annoyance, causing the white-haired man to suppress a laugh when your tense expression turned into one an anxious one, wishing to stop being the center of attention.
“Well, then I could say the same about you.” Compared to you, he remained calm despite the insinuations.
Your head moved slowly from side to side, you couldn't believe how intimate the situation felt, the way his voice coaxed you, or why you were still there with him despite your own limitations.
It was clear that he was attracted to you, but you didn't understand why. He could have anyone he wanted, he could bewitch people with his mere appearance, and yet you were the person in the room he devoted his time to.
He confused you, he made you doubt yourself and your knowledge, when in your whole life you had always had everything clear and established.
You didn't know if he was a divine gift, or if he was a test of restraint.
“Come on.” He pressed on, adjusting himself in his seat, a smug grin widening in his face.
A flutter began to trot across your chest, your fingers pressed deeper into your skin, the thought of his figure near you made your body tingle.
“This is such a weird way to flirt,” You muttered, lowering your gaze to the sunglasses hanging on his shirt.
“I don’t see anyone flirting.” You heard him reply in the same low tone as yours, moving closer.
You couldn't even look him in the eyes, you were too embarrassed at the realization that you liked his attention, because you shouldn’t.
“You are stupid,” You said under an incredulous chortle, letting your arms slide down your body into your lap.
You felt guilty for keeping talking to him knowing his intentions and your reveries about the cute boy in front of you.
It wasn't entirely your fault, because although the guy you were romantically involved with was smart, attentive and average looking, but he was also kind of boring, you could never laugh with him because he never understood your jokes and he was quite judgmental.
Maybe it was just excuses, like the ones cheaters make after committing the act.
“Then let me continue being stupid,” he said, putting his arm on the edge of the sofa behind you. Your heart lifted as you felt his figure close once again, heat beginning to ignite your body.
From then on everything began to feel like it was in slow motion, from the moment you looked up and you were enchanted by his sparkling and magnetic eyes, as blue as the sea in summer, until your head leaned back without your order, opening the way for your bare neck as if you didn’t owned your body.
And you sat there, waiting for him to get close, “Am I crossing a line?” He mumbled just a palm away from your face.
“You’re about to.” You responded in the same playful tone with a bit of a warning written under lines which was forgotten the instant he made you nervously giggle when you felt his warmth breath electrify the bridge of your neck, causing your skin to prickle.
His hand was still on the side of your hip, his forearm gently brushing your waist, almost unnoticeable if it weren't for the heightened level of your senses. It was like you were trapped in a bubble, immersed in innocent intimacy.
“Am I crossing the line?” He teased you, his azure gaze connecting with yours, leaning forward just a few inches from your skin.
His malicious smirk spread across his face, making you roll your eyes at his mischief. He was too cheeky, too cocky.
You felt so hot, both because of the temperature of the place and the situation. He laughed, confident and amused by the situation. Having him close, led you to notice that he was as tipsy as you.
You looked up at the ceiling to try to ignore the reasonably strange looks from the people around you, although you could still get a sight of the man's whitish hair at the corner of your eyes.
It didn't take long for you to feel his nose touching and sniff the crook of your neck, hitching your breath, “Am I crossing the line now?” He whispered, sending a goosebump through your spine. You slowly shook your head, trying to keep your hand on your lap and not brushing with your fingers his hair that looked so silky and shiny, that even from a distance it was easy to detect the smell of his shampoo.
Then his touch traveled from your cleavage to the crease of your armpit and you quickly pushed him back with a hand on his chest, he immediately bursted out laughing.
“What is wrong with you?!” You scolded him, smacking him in the chest, dying of embarrassment. Your face burned hotter than you'd ever felt before, your nose and cheeks itched and burned as if a bucket of boiling water had been thrown on you.
He was lying on his shoulders, his chest going up and down with each laugh he let out, you could distinguish his abdomen contracting even through his shirt.
“M’ sorry! Sorry, ” He apologized amidst giggles, trying to sit up, one of his hands traveling to your wrist when you tried to stand up. “Just so you know- you didn’t smell bad at all.” You stood up again with your back to him, but he pulled you back and turned you around, plopping down on the couch again, “In fact, you smelled like really good.” He promised now seated properly.
His jeering voice had faded into a convincing sweet one, with puppy eyes and all.
“Don’t go.”
You should, but didn’t want to.
“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, well- I did want to annoy you but because that’s the only way you look me in the eyes with your eyebrows furrowed and a little pout.” He started chattering, desperate to explain himself.
Your eyes traveled to his grip on your wrist, just tight enough to keep you close without hurting you, one of his fingers slowly massaging the palm of your hand to calm you down. “You command.”
You looked up again, now watching him lick his plump pink lips. Your breathing was labored, your thighs were pressed together, and your free hand was squeezing your knee.
Something inside you felt minisculely change, your gaze joined with his felt heavier and more connected than before, it was as if you could feel him deep in your chest, like a knot that you couldn't swallow.
“Is your heart racing?” He asked you in a breath, his hand twitched against your skin.
“How do you know that?” Your breath was trapped, trying to climb up your rib cage, sending a burning ache you couldn’t let out.
“Well, because mine is,” He let out with a chuckle, bringing a hand to his chest and pressing it into a fist when he felt his heart was going to jump out.
You wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream, both at the same time. The feeling of his eyes made you feel as if you two were dancing under a spotlight in a room full of darkness.
At first you thought it was his incomparable beauty that kept you hooked on the conversation, but it was actually him, his jokes, his teasing, who made you feel like you were in a fever dream.
And he was the one who was confessing to you that his heart was racing, he was the one who looked at you like if you were a tasty meal he craved, he was the one who you would allow to pin you down on the floor just because his jokes just hit different.
He scooched over to you, his free hand laying on the side of your thigh, his thumb caressing over the cloth of your dress, trying to steal your attention out of your thoughts. And when you did, you drove your eyes to him, although you felt unable to hold his gaze, his eyes softly sparked with his pupils dilated and his grin stretched, his head tilting afterward.
Your mouth was gaped half open, being interrupted by a shy beam spreading across your face, sinking at your sight. Your body moved closer to his and you giggled, after the nervous cute rant the man in front of you threw, now you couldn’t deny to yourself that he was genuinely interested in you. Unthought-of words were about to spill out of your mouth.
“Gojo!” Gojo?
A loud, rigid voice broke the moment, whisking away your low guard, walls starting to build up again. By inertia you removed your hand from his grip.
“Satoru Gojo!” Satoru? “You have erased any non-existent respect I had for you.”
The white-haired man paled, his expression twisted as he slowly turned towards the voice marching angrily towards your way.
“Nanamin- ouch!” The man in front of you standed, trying to defend himself two seconds before being flicked in the forehead. Your eyes went wide.
“You prick, do you know how important the man you promised to invite a drink is?” A stoic voice coming from a muscular body spoke. You knew him, blond hair, prominent cheekbones and deep eye bags due to overwork. “Y/n…” His hard expression faded when he noticed your presence.
Kento Nanami, you were colleagues in the same branch, he was transferred from the Japanese company no more than two months ago.
“Hey,” You greeted him with a sheepish smile, standing immediately when he addressed you.
His hazel eyes analyzed you and then the man in front of you, well, Satoru Gojo, now you knew his name.
“You know each other?” Satoru questioned, adding himself in the conversation, one eyebrow raised mistrustfully, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“I didn’t know you hung out with people of his kind.” The blonde man told you, straightening his tie, embarrassed that you saw the stiff demeanor he specifically saved for Gojo, who Nanami looked up and down.
“My kind?” The white-haired man whined, a hand on his chest exaggerating his offended feelings. “How do you know each other?” He pressed, masking a smile, trying to step closer to you but ineffectively succeeding through being pulled by the collar of his jacket by the other man.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you, y/n.” Nanami turned to you, his friendly tone returning with a subtle smile. “But our flight back to Japan leaves in less than eight hours and we still have to apologize for ditching an executive and finish packing.”
“Wait-” Satoru called.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The blond man apologized, pushing his companion away.
“No, Nanamin-” He was cut again.
Your gaze tried to pay attention to Nanami but Satoru's voice stole your attention, leaving your stomach in knots from the rush. The white-haired man who was constantly covered by his colleague tried to connect his gaze with yours, the urgency to find a way to contact you again grew in him.
“We shall go.” Nanami quickly said goodbye, pushing Satoru into the sea of people again, you tried to keep up with them. But you got stuck in a crowd of unknown people, you didn't even had the chance to stop them, to say goodbye to him.
A sudden, despondent weight fell upon you. That newly found harmony had been overwritten, you were left with a disjointed heartbeat and unfinished confessions. You felt as if you had been thrown into the driest and hottest desert, accompanied by a withered hope.
You sat down in the first seat you found, your legs feeling devastated not only by tiredness, but also by the fact that you actually got carried away by a conversation with someone whose name you didn't know. You never had experienced this, what should you do? You weren’t sure if you should even look into the matter further. You wanted to think that it was meant to end like this anyway, after all that was the agreement, just a quick chat over a drink.
Your stomach felt queasy, although that was probably due to the alcohol you had ingested.
What ifs came to your mind, what if even after all Satoru was actually playing? Nanami said ‘his kind’, what kind? A player? You didn’t believe that was the case, still, it wouldn’t surprise you if it was.
But, what if everything was truly heart-felt? What if the mesmerizing glimmer of his eyes when he soft-spoke to you was sincere? That damn drowning blue eyes, mocking pearly-white smirk, face carved by the gods and purring delirious voice.
You buried your head in your hands and lost count of the time you spent replaying the memories of the night in your head over and over again, every look, every touch, every breath taken.
You deep in thought scolding yourself at how ridiculously pathetic you were for giving so much importance to an interaction that you didn't know if your thoughts intensified the relevance when someone tapped your shoulder.
“Y/n.” Someone sweetly whispered.
When you raised your head you saw Akira in front of you, a pleased smile on her face. She didn't even knew the reason why you were melted in your seat alone but she could assume it was because you followed her advice.
“It’s time to go home.” She continued saying. You covered your eyes with one hand to block out the radiance of the lights, you didn't even notice when the place began to empty.
“Okay,” You accepted, getting up from your spot, the woman in front of you linked her arms with you to give you support, now the liquor had hit you properly. “My head hurts.” You complained.
“Wait ‘till tomorrow, it will get worse.” She laughed as you growled.
You both walked to the reception to pick up your jackets and bags and then went out to the entrance of the place, watching the cars passing by on the street, not taking long to find Akira's husband's car, who greeted you from the driver's seat.
Akira helped you get into the back seat and then climbed into the passenger seat, you quickly closed your eyes and leaned your head back. You heard her ask if you were okay and you just nodded, taking a sip of the water she offered you.
Your mind was no longer worried about giving the direction of your apartment because they already knew the way from the times you invited them to eat dinner, now you could agonize in peace of mind while you fell asleep.
The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature.
The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature, your consciousness was about to turn off when a 'ding' woke you up, you grimaced at it and tried to go back to sleep, since the ride to your house was long, but the same sound rang out again.
You turned on your phone screen and the notification bubble returned energy to your body.
Nanami (work):
Satoru Gojo
Create new contact / Add to existing contact
You scrolled down the messages and it was an attached photo, you clicked on it and zoomed it, it was a photo of Gojo asleep in the Uber, your lips curved up when you saw how angelic he looked when he wasn't acting like a jerk, his long eyelashes curled when they reached his high cheekbones and his hair looked more disheveled than when you met at the beginning of the night.
The photo had a description on the foot.
Nanami (work): I just send you his contact. If you're really going to give him a chance, do it soon because he whined until he fell asleep about how I sabotaged his chance with a ‘baddie’.
You couldn't help but laugh at Nanami's message and his sincerity. I made you question if he phrased it that way to help his friend or to boycott him. Even so, a relief began to drain your dreadful thoughts from your body, as if that revelation canceled all your personal issues to resolve.
And It did, a little, because deep down you knew that what you lived was real, that the way he saw you was how you supposed, that everytime he tastes cranberry juice he’ll think of you.
But what you didn't know was that you left quite an impression, and that you enchanted him and became the reason his heart pounds even if you're not around.
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hi guys!!! I saw a tiktok of a girl who said she wanted to read something about satoru with sabrina’s song bed quem so I worked on it. please tell me if this funny or weird because wrote it in the lapse of 3 weeks and idk how to feel about it. Pls share your thoughts xoxo
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lovelybotblog · 2 months ago
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─ home sweet prison
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summary: For Suguru Geto, the torrential rain that broke out on the first day of his new school could only be a sign of bad omen, or so he thought. pairing: Suguru Geto x female reader note: "y/n" is gonna be used, the faceclaim used in the banner is made by "Freesiya13" on Pinterest, but feel free to use your own. song of the chapter: Trees And Flowers by Strawberry Switchblade word count: 1.5k
Shoes clattered against the stone floor, the shoulders of the uniform beginning to darken with the falling water. The sunny, warm day that the weather forecast had predicted was agonizingly innacurrate.
For a young country boy like Suguru Geto, it was disappointing that his foolish fantasy of starting school as the typical main character student in Tokyo of a manga could come true.
But of course, the only mistake he made was believing the strange-looking man who showed up at his house to preach to him about how Suguru could protect the weak with the power he possessed. The man gave him a full introduction about the jujutsu community and how Suguru had the opportunity to interact with other people his age who were in the same situation.
"What am I getting myself into?" He growled to himself as he walked quickly towards the entrance of the supposed sorcery school.
He was trying to convince himself that he was taking the right path. In his village he had never met anyone with the skills he had and he doubted that if he stayed there he would be able to exploit his potential or even understand it. Yes, it was the risk he had to take to achieve a purpose in life.
A bus had left him on the highway, from there he walked a hill where he was caught in the rain and now he found himself hiding in a small covered area to protect himself from the water that had only increased the torrent.
He ran a hand over his face to remove the drops of water that were beginning to cloud his vision. He looked further down the road and still couldn't see the school nearby. The land was so large that it was obvious that it wasn't a normal school.
His teacher had offered to meet him at the train station but Suguru wanted to prove to himself that he was capable of navigating alone in the real world, besides, being accompanied by his teacher would mean that he would meet his classmates with his scared appearance of newby. So, no way.
He crouched down, just noticing his lack of breath caused by the extreme change of environment. His chest felt like it was closing and his nose was drying up from inhaling quickly for air.
He still had to walk to the school entrance, where Professor Yaga had told him to wait for him when he arrived with his classmates. He closed his eyes and placed his right hand on the bridge of his nose, listening to the rain splashing around him.
"What are you doing?" A voice rang out from in front of him, causing his posture to shift in surprise.
Suguru's gaze scanned from bottom to top, there were black boots, tights up to the knee, skirt and jacket of the same color and buttons as his, it was another student. It was a girl.
"Since when are you here?" Suguru asked, standing up from his old position, placing his index finger and thumb on his temple trying to hide the embarrassment on his face.
"At school or in front of you?" The girl answered with another question and a monotone tone that matched her expressionless face.
Suguru looked at her skeptically, his eyes squinting, there was no way in which she was by his side all this time and if she arrived later he didn't notice her presence either.
"Don't look at me like that," the girl complained, crossing her arms. Now Suguru raised an eyebrow and showed a sassy pout. "Well, don't look at me like that either." she muttered in indignation.
They stood side by side in silence, both avoiding looking at each other. Although Suguru couldn't help but feel the energy she emanated, now quite noticeable. Her fearless posture made him conclude that she was more aware than him about what they were experiencing.
The weather had only gotten worse, even if he resigned himself to run up to the school he would end up soaked and the impression he had worked hard to act would be thrown out the window. The corners of his lips turned up slightly, it was all like a bad joke.
"The rain doesn't seem like it's going to stop." Suguru tried to start a small talk but was cut off by a -swoosh- sound.
The girl opened an umbrella and turned her back on him. Just when Suguru thought she would leave him standing there, her mouth played a melody again, "Are you coming or are you just going to stand there looking like a kicked puppy?"
Suguru stood under the umbrella thinking about the bad first impression she was careless leaving, but when he was close enough to see her face he noticed a hint of mockery in her lips.
He returned the intention by rolling his eyes, biting his cheek to keep from smiling. "At least let me be the one carrying the umbrella." he pleaded, grabbing the handle of the object but there was no disposition from the girl to let it go.
"No, I'll carry it so people think you're leaving the chivalry to the girl on a day as troubled as this." Her lips moved as she said those provocative words while putting on a suffering face.
When her eyes connected with his again a shock of electricity ran through Suguru's body.
"Huh?" He barked, snatching the umbrella from her hand. Was she really there for the same reason as him?
The girl hysterically giggled, it was contagious and it tickled his ear, she covered her mouth as Suguru's face only brought more fun to the situation. "Of course you are the one who is carrying the umbrella, it is the least you should do." She smiled.
"Pfft..." Suguru snorted as he looked ahead, she was vile, and he couldn't help but think that she still got him out of his recent misfortune. She annoyed him for fun and the bastard gloated at his side walking calmly with her hands linked behind her back, looking all inocent.
The rain echoed against the fabric of the umbrella above him. His overwhelming thoughts from when he was on the ground were now gone and his breathing was in tune with the girl beside him, the girl- he still didn't know her name.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his nose scrunched at the thought of giving up control of the conversation. She caught his gaze on her.
"You can ask whatever you have in mind." She remarked simply, Suguru scoffed, of course he could, she said it without any trace of self-importance and yet Suguru could sense it as mockery.
Hesitating, Suguru opened the conversation as he put his free hand into his pants pocket, “My name is Suguru Geto” He introduced himself nonchalantly, the girl repeated his name in a whisper. Suguru's intention for her to respond with her name was ignored, so he forced himself to speak again, "Are you going to tell me your name?"
She cocked her head, "Oh, I could tell you my name," she teased, closing her eyes when one of the boy's eyes tweaked in annoyance. "I'm y/n Zen'in" her grin now fading.
Zen'in, Zen'in, Zen'in, it repeated in Suguru's head trying to remember where he had heard it before, just when he was about to untangle his memory, as if his inner voice had answered him, he heard the answer.
"As Zen'in of the Big Three Sorcerer Families."
Suguru couldn't help but flinch, that was where the huge sign of caution the girl had on her head came from.
"But call me by my name, I hate that kind of formality." She brushed off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
The walking path became narrow, the trees stopped looking like a forest and the typical Japanese-style buildings began to take on a closer dimension. He didn't knew if the pressure was coming back because the reality of being a sorcerer was in front of him or if the girl's elegant posture and powerful energy emanating from her was dazing him a little. In any case, Professor Yaga had warned him about the Zen'in descendants and another surname that he couldn't remember either.
In the distance, at the foot of the stairs of the main building, he managed to notice Yaga. "Does that make you feel more special?" Suguru chortled, hiding the nervousness that was beginning to manifest itself with his hands. Apparently Yaga had arrived earlier than expected, there were two unknown heads at his side, an incredibly huge cursed energy unlike the rest was present, but it wasn't y/n.
The girl's smile had completely faded, her presence was no longer playful, it was as if she had closed up, her expression completely hardened.
"Not at all." She stated, lifting her chin and clenched fists.
They were already a few meters away from Professor Yaga and the other two students, a snow-white head of hair and a brunette bob waved their hands to the two teens under the umbrella.
The sun had returned and the rain was nothing more than light sprinkles, while Suguru returned the greeting to his former classmates, the girl at his side did not stop walking and continued ahead, leaving the group of new students behind. Professor Yaga sighed as if he was already familiar with that fiery character.
"Welcome to Tokyo Jujutsu High." The teacher introduced the school with a ginormous smile and his hands raised up to the air.
Suguru wasn't an insecure or fearful person, but for some reason no one seemed frightened, just him.
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Note: Sooo this is the first chapter, ik is not much but I found this very funny because this has so many hints about the future story. And I'm sorry for using the cliche of the powerful/important main character but let's be fr, I don't think Suguru or Gojo could fell in love the way they are gonna do with someone just kind and funny lol
Part two
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lovelybotblog · 3 months ago
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─ Where the seeds grow.
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader
Content: angst, fluff, complicated frienship, reader is clueless, timeskips, canon events, longing, mutual and solo pining, emotionally restrained teenagers, found family, rivals!gojo, unrequited love.
✶ SUMMARY: In sorcery there is no room for doubt, you flourish and reborn with your personal growth or you retreat into the occult. Love and friends are the two most devastating curses you can face, in which even the strongest can lack that victory.
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Chapters
first year - 2005 i. home sweet prison ii. reading you iii. desperate times call for desperate measures iv. sympathy is a knife v. (coming soon...)
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─ Note: This is a fanfic/imagines with consecutive stories, the story is based on dreams and scenarios that have occurred to me. English is not my first language but I wanted to share this story. Also, this fanfic is based in the song lotus flower by radiohead.
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lovelybotblog · 3 months ago
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and they’d do it again
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lovelybotblog · 3 months ago
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I’m having so much fun planning the angst for the fic
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lovelybotblog · 3 months ago
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─ iv. sympathy is a knife
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summary: For some reason the universe always puts you in an unfavorable situation, a super secret mission with the person you don't want to encounter, you wouldn't achieve, not even if you tried. pairing: Satoru Gojo x female reader content: this bitches are messy asf, you guys are classmates but you don't fw his personality, I would say most of this is angst and also backstory from the reader song of the chapter: sympathy is a knife by charli xcx word count: 6.2k
previous
“y/n, come here,” Sensei Yaga called you behind your back.
You pulled your head out of the classroom you were peaking for any sign of an acquaintance. You went for a nap after your morning class but since then neither Shoko nor Suguru had made an appearance, oddly to the usual, because they always managed to sneak on your bedroom and accompany you in the bed or sitting in your desk and finishing their homework, sharing the warmth of the sunset rays invading your room by the window.
“Follow me.” Your superior orders as you close the door in front of you, you raise an eyebrow when you catch a glimpse of mysteriousness in his movements, but never questioning it. You did the requested, walking behind the big figure of his.
You were getting used to sudden motivational talks and secret training sessions. You have met him before entering Jujutsu High, the first time you remember meeting him was at your parents funeral, ten years ago when Sensei Yaga had just gotten his teaching license. Nowadays, you weren’t really saddened by the absence of your parents, you no longer remembered them as much, they were like fleeting memories. You were too young, and you didn’t remember most of your early years, but the way you saw how your life was getting discussed in the living room of your house by your family and some said friends of your parents was important enough to remember.
"She's too young for us to take her, you know that," you remember hearing Yaga say to your mother's sister.
"Well, she is one of your kind, isn't she?" The woman replied, arms crossed, tears pooling in her eyes. You were never appreciated in that family of non-sorcerers, to them you were the spitting image of your father, the man who led your mother astray. "It will be easier for you to control her than we ever will be, that girl is a bad omen."
You still remembered the repudiation that their eyes expressed, the rejection that they always had towards you, a girl who hugged the empty coffin of her parents because the thing that killed them didn’t even leave a trace of their existence.
Your mother came from a middle-class, non-sorcerer family in the suburbs of Tokyo. It was a surprise to them to learn that their youngest daughter had "diabolical" abilities, though they let it pass because she was a good girl and still had time to be rescued, but that hope was dashed when she met your father and announced her marriage. Your father was a deserted member of the Zen'in clan, a promising sorcerer but considered "weak" by the family when he refused to fulfill the role assigned to him.
Sensei Yaga was their younger classmate, one of his closest friends. He never had the opportunity to meet the daughter of his idols due to a busy schedule, until the assigned mission was to analyze the case of their death.
"It will only be a few years, the father's family is not an option." Sensei Yaga implored, knowing what you would be subjected to if you fell into the hands of the Zen'in. If he had the chance he would have taken you under his protection, but the director had been cautious enough and forbade it. With a pension of high digits he managed to get your mother's sister to agree, but that didn’t prevent the Zen'in from finding your existence and with a larger check you being acquired.
He had never confirmed it to you, but you know that deep down he cares about you. Ever since the checkups he took the time to do on you when you were under the control of the Zen'in clan, where you were neglected by the Old Man, how you always called the person who was assigned to take care of you and train you, but he did nothing but scold you and punish you if you didn't do outstanding right away.
 "Are you going to tell me what's all the fuss about or...?" You inquired, hands posing on the side of your hips in annoyance, one of your feet tapping the floor as you saw your professor close the door of his office then moving to the chair of his desk.
He sighed, you always try to show everyone off with a defensive and calculating position, but that didn't work with him, he had met your scared and childish side. "I have a top secret mission for you." A smirk fighted to escape when he saw your eyebrows extend in curiosity and your eyes shine with hunger, waiting for more information. “This is the direction.” He handed you a paper with his writing on it.
"And what do I have to do?" You asked again, unsure of what to think. Usually they gave you papers with all the information about the case, maybe this was different because it was secret. 
The illusion of having your first top secret mission collapsed when your superior spoke again.
"I entrusted this mission to Satoru Gojo in the morning, as I suppose you have noticed his absence in today's class," Yaga respond, of course you noticed, it didn't need a genius to see the lack of irritating noise and the eyes of a creep on your back missing. "He was supposed to just pick up a package and return, tha assistant assigned to accompany him lost him, you have to find him-"
His words were cut off by the paper he gave you, being irreverent thrown at his desk. "Sir, with all due respect, why don't you find another person to babysit that boy?"
Yaga fought the urge to rant about your generation of brats and troublemakers, always harassing his peace, but he just breathed out, "Because you are the best of your class, and the person I trust to bring back the package and Gojo Satoru." 
"Then why did you send an incompetent like him before me?" You huffed, jutting your hip, leaning forward in an accusative way, he was so lying to your face.
“Ehh? I'm your authority, you shouldn't be questioning me, young lady." The professor pointed out, handing you the paper again. He hoped that would be enough for you to take the case with no-whining about it. You took the paper from his hand, dissatisfied with the situation he was putting you on. 
"Is that all?"
He nodded, dismissing you with a wave of his hand, trying not to chuckle as he watched you give him your back grumbling. He knew he might provoke some riot, forcing you to interact with Gojo. Actually, he didn't even need to give his students the mission. It was just a request the principal had made him, an easy to-do, but Yaga was too fatigued and Gojo was getting on his nerves earlier in the day, so yeah, the first thing that came on his mind was sending him away to a ‘mission he was the only one capable to do’.
You smacked your tongue against your teeth as you got out of the car that took you to the shopping district in downtown Tokyo, passing by Gojo's assistant. You couldn't blame him, your partner was a nightmare to deal with, but because of his carelessness you now found yourself searching for the strongest sorcerer on a street filled with crowds of people.
“Which way did he go?” You asked the assistant without stopping your walk, analyzing the street and the stores in the place. It was obvious that he got distracted from the purpose of his visit, you knew that if he had been attacked he would have easily gotten out of it, so that was not an option.
“Over there," the man replied, an unsettling anxious tone in his voice. He screwed up leaving Gojo alone, and now another sorcerer was sent to finish the job. "But that was hours ago. When I went to look for him, I couldn't find him. I don't know where he could be now. I'm really sorry."
“No worries, and thank you.” You reassured him, trying to put on your best smile to comfort him. You didn't know where he could be either, you didn't know him well enough to know where he could be, he could even have already left.
You continued walking down the sidewalk, glancing at the shops trying to find something that your classmate might be interested in. You were sure that the hardest part of the mission was finding him, but for a moment the option of picking up the package crossed your mind. After all, Gojo would be back that night or the next day, but you couldn't afford to leave a classmate behind. You were tasked with returning with the package and Gojo Satoru.
You chuckled, the universe always managed to get him on the track of your life, it was funny because that was one of the few things you avoided. Then you remembered how Suguru, one break between classes, when you and him were laying in a tree, the shadow of it cooling you from the heat of the sun, your shoulder brushing each other, and the first thing he said to you was, 'Why don't you try to sympathize with him?' 
How could you? He threatened your success, your well being in your family was based on how much you could match his strength, they didn't expect anything from someone like you, you were warned to stay away from him, the reason the sorcerer community was shakened. Yet, you thought that if you were strong, you could live a better life. You didn't needed to gain approval by the Zen'in clan, but you did want to prove that you could be better than what they expected, that you could be someone to fear.
It burned you, it embarrassed you the way you think of him.
You finished browsing the clothing stores without any trace of his cursed energy, you were at the crossroads between the souvenir street and the food street. You would be in a dilemma if you hadn't seen the disgusting way he ate morbid amounts of food.
By now he should be hungry, you wanted to be sure you were right, little by little your annoyance began to increase and if you didn't find him quickly, the news of a whole street being strangely banished was going to be on the cover of the newspaper the next morning.
You had been walking for about an hour, approaching the windows of the shops to get a better look at the people, it was easy to notice a tall mop of white hair. You were really trying to convince yourself that spending so much time with non-sorcerers helped you understand them better, but god- you couldn't help but get irritated, noticing how they worried about such insignificant things, living so naïvely of the world around them.
You were starting to think about the 'what if', you hated those words. Rarely, but sometimes you think about what your life would be like if you weren't a sorcerer, nothing ever comes to your mind.
Almost unnoticed, a Mochis stand flashes in the background of your peripheral vision. A strong feeling hit your chest, suddenly cursed energy was screaming all over the place, that was why you hadn't noticed it from a distance.
You strode down to him, sneaking through the crowd of female vendors surrounding him, offering him samples of all kinds of mochi. Of course you were going to find him in that kind of situation. He was so delighted that he didn't notice you by his side for a few seconds, his arms were scoot with bags of shopping hanging, his hands full of the colorful desert, his round sunglasses slid down his nose.
“Mhmp.” You cleared your throat, both arms crossed over your chest to keep from punching his face off.
You watched as his head slowly turned towards you, eyes closed savoring the sweetness on his tongue and a bright smile plastered on his face, which slowly faded as his eyes took in the person in front of him.
"Is she your girlfriend?" A girl squealed beside him, your face twisted, looking up and down at the man in front of you, muttering a ─ew, no─
“Uhh- I- I didn’t knew you were here too.” He mumbled with rests of mochi stuffed in his mouth. He didn't decided yet if the bitterness that had fallen down his throat was because of the surprise of running into you or because of the annoyance that your face directed at him.
"I'm not supposed to.” You grunted, rolling your eyes. “Do you have the package?” You questioned, hoping that you could return quickly to the comfort of your bedroom. But you weren't that lucky, Gojo's face was lost in confusion, "The package? The thing that you were sent here for?" You asked, raising your tone, but your breath left you when the snow-haired boy popped a mochi into his mouth again. 
"Oh, I forgot. I thought I had the day off." Gojo replied nonchalantly, slowly turning his back to you with a giddy smile, taking out money of his wallet to finally make his purchase.
“Huh? How could you forget that?!” You yelp, the vendors of your sides slowly disappearing from the scene. “"I've had enough, let's go." You ordered, smacking his arm, turning your body to leave as you massaged your nose bridge, a pang resounded on the sides of your forehead.
Gojo glanced at you, then the mochis, “I’m not going to waste my time on this.” He heard you say as you walked away.
The white-haired boy quickly exchanged the money for the box of mochi and bowed to the girls in gratitude, and sorry for the bother with your grumpiness. You are so moody─ he thought, following your steps as he carried the shopping bags on his sides.
When he reached your pace, he tried to read your expression. It was the first time the two of you were out on a mission, it was the first time the two of you were alone. But that didn't seem to bother you for him, you were too busy trying to locate where you were, eyebrows furrowed and your lips pouted in concentration.
He giggled, caughting your attention, enough for you to glance at him pissed off. He ignored it, taking the paper off your hand with the directions, reading it fast as he tilted his head to the street on your right. “C'mon,” He said.
"I have to make a call first." You stopped him, walking over to one of the nearby pay phones, the boy looked at you with a raised eyebrow, confused as to what you were going to do but following you anyway.
You stuffed the money into the slot of the machine and called Gojo's assistant. You grabbed the phone and placed it to your ear, the automated voice playing that your call was being transferred. You tugged your earlobe, facing more at the wall in front of you, avoiding Gojo's gaze.
He put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall next to you, looking away when he noticed what you were doing. His gaze fell upon a group of middle school girls who were watching you from a table outside a cafeteria, giggling and mumbling amongst themselves.
He huffed, his mind rambling about what was so funny about. He sneaked a glance at you, the way your gaze softened when you heard the assistant's voice, telling him that you found him. Then he looked at himself by your side, shopping bags in his arms. Both of you were wearing the same uniform, he guessed that for other people you looked like close friends hanging around after school, then he thinked a little more, boy and girl, you looked like a- He shook his head at that thought, a warmth settling on his neck.
You hung up the phone again and looked at Gojo, being more surprised that you would like when his cerulean eyes were already shining in your direction, "Are we going?" You said trying to keep your tone steady, letting out the air that the interaction had restricted you, you weren't used to looking him in the eyes.
He nodded, guiding you in the direction where you were going to pick up the package, since he was more familiar with the place than you. 
You didn't notice, too deep in your thoughts, but a smile crept onto the white-haired boy's lips. You were walking together side by side, not you walking with a quick pace so as not to see his face, nor you walking too slowly behind him talking to Suguru immersed in your own conversation leaving him aside, this time it was you and him side by side.
When it came to you, you revolted his insides. Always too bratty, too hermetic for him to catch a glimpse of your true self. He could only see your outside, keeping him away with your indifference, something that causes a strong mordacious sting in his chest, bringing back memories of the rejection he received from his clan relatives and most of his upper classmates. But the difference between you and them was that you didn't show any kind of interest in him, neither positive nor negative.
When you passed by him you didn't look at him, and when you did you looked at him without any trace of expression, as if you were seeing a void. Never showing surprise by his ability to easily complete the ridiculously difficult training Yaga-sensei prepared for him, or by the missions he managed to successfully complete in record time.
But over time Satoru managed to notice that it was nothing more than a facade. You weren’t as heartless and blithe as you wanted to appear. He could see the twist upwards the corner of your lips made while hearing Shoko ramble or the way in which your eyes shone when you observed Suguru slowly getting beat by sleep in class. You would never admit it to him, but Satoru could tell how you cared for others from the shadows and secretly always trying to improve yourself.
You both walked in an unusual silence, making your way through the sea of ​​people surrounding you. Your shoes echoed in unison against the stone floor until the sun set and the moon shone brighter under the cloak of the progressive darkness, leading your presences to an uninhabited street, only a couple of shops still in operation. 
An old store that seemed to sell second hand items sat in front of you.
“Are you sure this is the address?” You questioned your classmate, grabbing the paper with the direction off his hand, no specifications of the place to help you.
He huffed, hanging his head in offense, “Tots.”
You entered the place keeping your doubts to yourself, you were no longer in the mood to question what you were doing. The top secret mission had seemed like nothing more than a joke to you, it shouldn't cost a sorcerer of your size so much. But the universe has managed to make the situation oddly inconvenient.
The lighting was poor, the wooden floor creaked with every step, the place smelled like dust and incense burning. You were supposed to just pick up a package but your instincts wouldn't let you let your guard down. There were only two customers in the store, hulky and grotesque looking, without a hint of cursed energy. But you knew too well that it wasn't synonymous of weakness.
Gojo walked behind you, his gaze shifting from object to object without interest, his hands clasped behind his head. When you got to the glass counter you didn't see any worker nearby, a well-polished golden bell shined in your sight and you pressed it. Gojo must have found it amusingly hilarious, because he pressed it not once, not twice, not even three times, but five times until you pushed his hand away.
He laughed out loud, the sound buzzing around the room as he turned around, flipping through a book on an oak shelf for sale. A man's voice echoed from behind a door at the back of the store, ‘coming!’. You couldn't help but prepare yourself for a possible fight, what if there was a misunderstanding and they didn't want to give you the package? Or if the package itself was of extreme importance and tried to steal it? You had to proceed defensively but there was no sign that those present were sorcerers. Even so, the companion on your side was surely going to want to show off if the opportunity arose.
The door opened, your gaze and Gojo's expectant, a hunched, white-bearded old short man smiled at you. Huh? You couldn't figure out what was so super secret about the situation, there were no obstacles to fight or some extreme security to break.
“Oi! The guys with the spiral buttons,” The man greeted you with narrowed eyes, putting on the glasses that rested on his head, realizing that you weren’t, in fact, men at all. "Oops, my sincerest apologies, young lady." He said ashamed under the thunderous and irritating laughter of your companion, who was holding his stomach and pointing at you mockingly.
You glared at him with flames in your eyes and gritted teeth, before returning your attention to the man in front of you. "Offense not taken." You try to answer kindly, faking a smile that only makes Gojo explode more because of the falseness of it. Maybe this is worse than getting covered in sticky curse residue.
“"I thought no one was going to pick it up anymore, I was told that you would come in the morning." The man pointed out the delay with some displeasure. You took the comment like a slap straight on the face, the snow-haired boy progressively quelling his laughter when it turned into embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, sir. There were some mishaps." You apologized, bowing your head in respect, poking Gojo in the ribs with your elbow to get him to repeat your action.
The old man nodded, waving a hand dismissively, he bent down to open the sliding door of the counter and took out a wooden box with several stamps indicating that it was a fragile product.
"The receipt?" The man asked.
Your eyes widened, you didn’t have it but Gojo quickly reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a sheet of paper folded in four and gave it to the man, who stamped one corner and signed it as delivered. "That would be all." 
You cast a quick glance towards the suspicious men, now looking at a restored Nordic clock. If it were any package you would open it to check it, but it was clearly specified that it was secret even for you.
The harder part was finally over. You snapped your fingers at Gojo to carry the box, he clucked his tongue between his teeth and whispered 'Brat' low enough that only you and he could hear, but still he did as ordered. You pressured him from behind, tossing a thank you to the salesman as you walked towards the exit.
You both walked past the ones you thought might be a nuisance but were nothing more than simple shoppers. You were both dismissed by the door bell as it closed behind you. You let go a sigh, stretching your muscles, you don't even remember when you concentrated so hard to numb yourself that much.
“We should-” The sound of your mouth stops when you notice Gojo looking at you with a smirk, his glasses down in his nose bridge giving space to his eyes shining schemingly. “What?” You hiss, nothing good comes after his head flashes a thought. 
“Aren't you curious what this box contains?" He asks you, running his fingers dangerously slowly over the opening of the box. You're about to say a direct no when he speaks again, “It could be a new special tool,” Gojo smiles from hear to hear, a purr longing in his words. Your low lip quivers, a new tool would be a good addition to your training. “What do you think it could be? Definitely not a type of sword, the box is too small."
You take an instinctive step back as he approaches you. “We are forbidden from opening it.”
Deny it, deny it, deny it, you forced yourself to fight his temptations.
"It's most likely a Kunai knife," Gojo ignored your comment, you growled, being intercepted by his right arm daring to rest on your shoulders, heat flooding your body. Your gaze fell on the contact of his hand with your shoulder, his heat poisoning your skin, making you stumble through your thoughts, you pushed him out of you by nature, or sanity preservation.
"But it would be epic if it were shurikens.” You heard him say, the jump in his voice when you looked at him didn't go unnoticed, he seemed as shocked as you were by his recent audacity. It was the first time he touched you, that he got physically close to you even. Gosh- you didn't even call him by his last name. “Didn’t you say you knew how to use them?" He tried to play it off.
His words brought you out of the trance of his eyes, you had never noticed that his glasses hid so much behind. His orbs resembled the bright water of tropical beaches so much, twining to the clear, aquamarine sky. Eyes shining like the reflection of the moon at night.
"Or receiving him at this place is just a facade, you know, because it's top secret." Gojo continued chattering, murmuring the last two words, his usual giddy smile plastered on his face again.
Your expression closed up, you truly were tempted to know the contents of the box but his way of convincing you was atrocious, he was just throwing a bunch of words at you until you gave in. He didn't even need your permission, and if he wanted, he could blame you for opening it.
Although the culprit would be more than obvious.
“Come on, I know you want to." Gojo coo, passing the box in front of your face, you shake your head, eyes closed and arms crossed. He pouted in annoyance but that didn't stop him from finding the truth himself. "Do you always play by the rules? Bo-ring."
You stuck your nose in the air, you weren't a sanctimonious person, but what was in the box was confidential information, you reminded yourself. Gojo looked to his sides and then lifted the lid of the box, eyes shining with excitement and a smile waiting for a big surprise. 
Who were you kidding, you quickly approached to peek at the box.
As if you had witnessed a divine apparition, you raised your gaze to connect with his. Both of you were expressionless and your mouths were gaped, a confirmation that you didn't see wrong.
You both burst out laughing at the same time, as if you were looking at a reflection. Suddenly there were no barriers between you two, the revelation of the content was more outrageous.
It was a Hello Kitty music festival edition tea set.
Why of all the things that could be, it was just the most ridiculous?
If someone had told you in the morning that later you would find yourself laughing with Satoru Gojo, you would have checked-in the person in a psychiatric center for nutso.
Gojo's laugh was partially dismissed when he caught your smile, you were all laid back with the corners of your eyes crinkled, he felt like a warm blanket embraced his body. He was a little intimidated by the way he felt his pride rise at the knowledge that he now shared a memory with you, that he sighed in despair when your voice hummed like a melody from his ears to the cage of his chest.
Betrayed by his mouth his thoughts escaped out loud, "Knowing you could smile like that I would have made you laugh sooner." 
As if you had been threatened with being pierced by a thousand cuts, you stopped dead.
Gojo felt a heat burn on his cheeks, the words stuck in his throat, but forcing himself to play it cool, “I don’t understand why you are always so pressed.” 
Suddenly the atmosphere became bitter, settling into Gojo's body.
You regained your demure posture, weight once again falling on your shoulders, the constant brickbat not to ruin your family's appearance any further by hanging out with anomalies like Satoru Gojo drowning your thoughts. Your smile faded in eyebrows twitched and nose wrinkled, “I don't hope for you to understand.”
He shaked his head, deep down wishing that he could go back in time one minute ago. 
“And if we are gonna talk about understanding, then I could say I don’t understand why you are so obnoxious all the time.” You snapped, an urge to return him the bad taste kicked in you. Contrary to what people thought, you didn’t enjoy fighting meaninglessly.
You knew that Gojo would one day return the pitiful behavior you directed at him, but you didn't expect to be shaken by such childish and insipid words like 'pressed'.
“You know nothing about me or my past, and I have never messed with you for you to try so hard to bother me and make my life difficult,” Your words came out of your mouth without thinking, as if a dam was overflowing without any control, making a direct path towards the destruction of everything nearby. "Because that seems to be what you want, you stand in one place without thinking twice about If you are blocking someone else's path."
You watched as white strands flew in front of his motionless eyes upon you, his mouth gate open to speak, closing again when nothing came out.
His thoughts bounced around with indecision, he didn't mean what he said, no, it was sincere but not worded correctly for you to understand. Then a crack split in his mind, but did you mean what you said? He wanted to know better than he did, that you weren't as deceiving and hurtful as you scratched, but any trace of your smile and the small dose of warmth it gave him left no trace behind when you noticed his presence. Your indifference hunted him down.
It wasn’t disinterest or apathy. Satoru's theory that his Six Eyes weren’t telling anything to him was wrong, his instinct was sending him signals but he simply couldn’t decipher it.
You were like searching for a message in a bottle sunken in the sea.
He would have every right to be angry at being judged and unwanted without reason, but he was looking for more behind that. Since that day when he saw you talking to Suguru, leaning on his shoulder, fully trusting all your weight in him, with your guard down and your expression so soft and attentive to his words, it made Satoru think that the reason for your behavior towards him was something more than simple annoyance or envy.
He'd be lying if he said he was used to being hated and rejected as well as praised and loved, sometimes he could tolerate it more, but you were like hiding small doses of poison in his favorite food.
"Is that what you think of me?" His voice came out more sneering than his expression reflected.
He didn’t consider himself an understanding person, he tried to be until people convinced him that the world owed him for his existence. That if he was born with the purpose of being better than others and protecting them, then he was at a godlike level above them.
Your eyebrows furrowed and your fists clenched, you couldn't figure out if he was still provoking you or if he was trying to hide his thoughts.
"I don't trust someone who is always smiling and whose only method of communication is to piss people off with wordplay.” You added, catching his grin tense. 
You had been watching him from your peripheral vision for as long as you'd known him. Unlike you, he didn't enjoy a serious fight that was open to negative emotions.
"I don’t like you not because you're immature or loud, or because you've been the face of jujutsu sorcery since you were born." Your words meandered in front of the boy, accompanying you as you got closer to him, each step squeezing his chest, making it difficult to breathe normally. The atmosphere was tense and it progressively closed in even if you were outdoors.
It was twisted the way you could aimlessly shoot your words like bullets to his weak points, but it was more twisted the way he let you keep going just to hear what your perception of him was. As if that would be the key to finding the answers to do the same with you.
He was a better-man than the rest of humanity because he had the power to be worse than any.
“I don’t like you because you were given everything and you don’t seem to take the importance of it, you have every right to not care about it or anyone.”The fact that you were opening your deepest feelings was revolting your insides, your despair crawling weighing on his body.
“Is that so?” He nagged, gripping the edges of the wooden box still between his arms around his chest. Being used so childishly and uselessly as protection from your snipes.
It wasn't just your thoughts about him, but also the emotional discharge you were throwing at him. You were aware that he was not at fault for being the switch-breaker of the community of sorcerers and curses, it just turned out that casualty made both of you meet your paths.
“You represent everything! You are strength and the reminder that weakness exists because you aren't that.” Your voice was raised, piercing his ears, wording him so kindly but also recalling every scolding and reviling surmised to him by everyone who misinterprets him.
"And that's the only thing that makes you oppose me?" 
"Of course not!” You replied, biting your lower lip, hesitant to say what was next, but you were tired of keeping it in. Those feelings wore you down just as his cursed energy consumed his brain, “I'm selfish, I'm ambitious, it frustrates me that we could seem to come from similar and privileged places and at the same time be so different and hurt. I'll never be able to be as skilled or powerful as you, no one else can, I can't aspire much to things that are innate given to you without forgetting my limits."
Your head was pounding incessantly, you didn't know if it was because of the accumulated fatigue or the embarrassment that was growing red and hot on your face.
“But the thing is,” You murmur, stepping closer, the box with the package was the only thing producing space between you, a quick flash of a thought wondered if it wasn’t there, how much would you dare to get close? Enough to slap him? Enough to push him?, “I don’t understand why everyone expects so much from you, because to me you seem just like a kid who obviously would rather not carry all the weight people put on him.”
His eyebrows raised, his eyes widened, and his cheeks tinted pink as your pitiful soft gaze fell upon him, intimidating him as if he were a child again. Anyone would think that you were seeing him as a poor thing, as if you wanted to snatch away what he owned, as if you were going to stab him with a dagger out of compassion. 
But he had the ability to see further than others, physically and figuratively. You didn't need to give him more explanations to make him understand, although your actions firstly made him think that you weren't even a little envious of him, they were uncertain, your sincerity led him further into his thinking.
You were real, you were observant and cautious for that very reason, you had become one of the first people that saw him beyond prejudice. You were capable of being human and aware of your weaknesses, and at the same time being governed by reason and morality. He couldn't blame you for keeping your distance with him because his nonchalant and playful mask had been dismantled without him realizing it.
He played his most annoying card, he tried to bring you to the edge of hysteria to test your limits and he never completely succeeded because you were surely just as or even smarter than him, and you were also testing him. 
It didn't bother him that people thought he was arrogant and apathetic, after everything experienced in his lifetime he concluded that not everyone had the capacity to understand the level he was at. 
When the car that would take you back to Jujutsu High arrived, you got in without saying a word or looking at him, not ignoring him because you were mad but because you understood that what you said not only implied your vulnerability, but his as well.
‘You seem just like a kid who obviously would rather not carry all the weight people put on him’ He couldn't even get angry or overthink about your raw comments that hurt his ego. For the first time in his life he felt truly seen and he couldn't stop himself from constantly smiling about it.
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lovelybotblog · 3 months ago
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"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.
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lovelybotblog · 4 months ago
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me personally imma use "y/n" in my fics as much as i want to idc i love that bitch
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lovelybotblog · 4 months ago
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─ iii. desperate times call for desperate measures
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summary:The afternoon training with Suguru Geto gets out of hand when you tease him and hit a nerve. pairing: Suguru Geto x female reader content: most of this is a combat against you and him (I hope the narration is understood because it is the first time writing one), you both admire each other and want to improve to be at the other's level, a bit of fluff and bit of angst kinda. song of the chapter: Despeir by Leo word count: 3.3k
<<previous
“You learn fast, country boy.”
 You said, retracting the bōjutsu you had just dealt, the combat staff was a long wooden stick, about 180 centimeters long now laying against your spine waiting for the perfect time to attack again.
“Well, aren’t you my sensei?” Geto retorted with his notable teasing smile, the one that always draws across his face when he talks to you. A provocative eyebrow raised, lips pursed with the edges lightly more tilted and eyes squinted to get a better sight of your face.
He strokes his defensive stance, his fist tightens, his torso stretches, his feet position themselves deeply on the ground. You notice all of that with your peripheral view, not letting him guess where your next move is gonna strike.
You scoff, eyes still locked with his. “Is that so?” You question, a smile slipping through your lips as you spinned the staff behind your back, showing off your gracious and polished skill. You know he is teasing you, you were indeed had been instructing him about hand to hand combat aside from the academic program. Every free noon you two joined to practice, most of the fights being won by you. He was aware of your competitiveness and the confidence you had in your skills, he also was aware of the way you didn’t trust the heart-come confessions. “Don't think that you will be the student who surpasses the teacher, then.” 
Geto prepares to dodge the blow that you sheath towards where the side of his torso would be if he didn’t moved, your bōjutsu cane remains static in the air for a millisecond, your grip on the center tightens before launching yourself again at him just behind his knee, your strength being directed towards the stiff wood between your hands, making his leg bend and rest on the floor.
Just when the winning feeling was about to coronate your head you feel a pull of the instrument off your hands. In one move Geto was already the controller of the bōjutsu, but your proud expression doesn’t disappear, you like having a worthy competitor to fight with.
You weren't lying, Geto is a fast learner. Not only to learn different martial arts or ways to use his cursed technique, but also in life, he knew how to read the room. After you met he fit his personality with yours, he began to read your thoughts as well as you his. The comfort you could find in the other is starting to grow. 
“You didn’t expect that, huh?” The raven-haired boy nagged, setting the bōjutsu on his hip as he separated his legs while you were positioned to attack.
He noticed your unblinking eye contact, chin up and a glow emanating from your eyes, “My senses had already warned me of the possibility of such a distraught move as this.” It was a lie, she actually was shocked he finally dared to do something bold against her, but her spitefulness was enough to make him cackle.
Geto knew you liked getting under his skin.
“I trust in the quality of my knowledge enough to not fear my opponents." You bragged, slowly getting close to him, your defense fists still up. Both of you were spinning around in the arena, the sun was setting and the breeze was starting to feel cold.
A smile drawn in Suguru’s lips, “You sound like Mr. Miyagi.”
“Kid, I don’t understand your normie references.” You rolled your eyes, running forward, he imitated your action. 
He jumped in the air using the bōjutsu as vaulting pole, bending his legs towards his chest to push them right at your head to knock you down, although you anticipated that and ducked it, sliding across the ground, looking in slow motion how Geto passed over you, his eyes following you from above with an expression of surprise. 
He felt a static run through his body, it was ridiculously obvious that you were raised in a different environment than him, from the grace you carried when you walked to the precise, effortless way your body performed in a combat, although you always work hard to improve you possess a natural instinct. 
And in times like this Suguru realizes that he has to strive to be at the level of beings like you and Satoru Gojo, who always have hunger for more. He truly admired both of you, not for the attention people gives you or for your strength, but because even knowing that you are prodigies in your fields of jujutsu, both of you are able to see further than many, you are capable of being compassionate and faithful to your principles, worthy of it all.
Your hand grabbed the ground to shorten the slide, using the friction of your weight, letting a trace behind. You used the same hand to push yourself back up in a single movement. The distance between the two had been established again, both of your bodies were asking for the other's closeness, the feeling of fighting flared in your chests, which made you hotter apart from the heat from the physical effort.
The ragged breaths of the black haired boy in front of you were audible, he was scanning the dirt hugging your skin and the flush of your cheeks, you were tired too but you knew how to pull yourself together better, he licked his lips.
You got momentum from a short run before jumping to stick a kick at him, but before you reached out for him he already had blocked your movement with the bōjutsu, but it was all a facade because instantly your other leg rolled with your body still in the air, coiling your body in his torso like a snake. Strength and cursed energy focused on your lower body, making the both of you hit the ground.
A squeak slipped out of your mouth, you felt all the air in your lungs escape from the crash.
He was on top of you fighting your hold, his back pressed against your chest, you felt the ground making your body slip but not enough for Suguru, still tied by your legs to his waist, to escape. The bōjutsu that the boy had boasted so much about while teasing you was now not only in his hands, but also in yours, the difference was that you were trying to bring it closer to his neck and he was moving it away so as not to be strangled.
Your specialty was combat with tools, since you were a child you knew how to maneuver with them as if it were an extension of your body. In the Zen'in clan most of the members had solid abilities on cursed tools, but that didn't make your combat without them any less better. That was your advantage against a rookie like Suguru.
Both of you were on the ground for a while and he still couldn't escape, "Are you giving up…?" You asked in his ear, you could feel his hair brush your cheek. “Country boy.” You added.
“Never!” He shouted out in annoyance when he heard you purr the last bit.
The corners of your lips curved as you felt a force push you before your contact with his body disappeared, he had escaped. The bōjutsu flew through the air, both of you looked into each other's eyes before jumping to steal it.
As if you were light as a leaf you flowed through the air catching her first, spinning in the air, before falling in the ground crouched, one hand between your legs and the other with the bōjutsu standing on the ground. He didn't wait for you to get up and threw a punch with his right arm, a gust of air hitting your face, you dodged it- left arm launched itself, not fast enough because you dodged it again. You could feel the cursed energy running through his arm.
You raised the bōjutsu taking two steps forward, in the blink of an eye you were about to hit Suguru's chest, his body reacting on its own, his shoulder moving enough just to be grazed by the blow, while you, without letting go of the staff, passed by his side, your face centimeters from his face enough to not collide. 
The uniform on his sleeve now had a tear in it.
 "Now you owe me a jacket." Suguru huffed, looking at the hole in the fabric and his bicep now exposed.
“Huh?” You snorted, one eyebrow raised with indignation and a hand on your hip, “Aren't you the insolent one who didn't know when to stop?” You didn't really owe him anything because the school provided the uniforms, and anyway Suguru wouldn't force you to do it. But even if he was a goody-two-shoes most of the time, he could be quite fussy and childish from time to time.
He knew it was true, he had pushed the situation even if they were both already tired, but if he wanted to improve he had to push even more.
Suguru sprinted to you, you knew what was coming and started spinning the staff in an eight figure around your body. When he was close enough he throwed a swing, right hook, left kick, -one step forward- left hook, right kick. 
Dodged, dodged, struck, dodged. 
He felt a creep run up his spine when he saw your hand pass over your cheekbone where his fist just landed, he almost felt regretful when you grimaced in pain and let out a groan. Almost, because when he let the guard down you blew him with a downward strike hitting right in his low abdomen. The air escaped from his lungs and a spasm ran through the punched area, for a couple of seconds he saw only bright white. He fell backwards, you were holding the front of the bōjutsu with one hand and the back with the other hand at shoulder height, pointing diagonally the tool towards Suguru on the ground.
“Is that all you got?” You provoke him when you see him taking loads of breath, his eyes closed and his head back in tiredness. You poke him in the chest with the staff.
He looks up at you, his slanted purple eyes mixing with yours, a bead of sweat drips down his forehead, his lips are swollen and his cheeks are tinted pink. His body is feeling heavy and telling him to stop, but as if your smile were his fuel, he rises when your teeth are exposed and your mouth widens.
“No.” He denies, running a hand over his face and rolling his shoulders back before rising into a defensive stance.
You change the position of the bōjutsu above your left shoulder, resting it on your entire arm and holding it with your right hand on your elbow, that way you can draw any movement. Suguru tightens his fists when you lift your left knee, twist the staff up in the air, your foot starts falling in the ground again as you smash the bōjutsu across. Suguru blocks it with his forearm before the staff reaches his neck, quickly pushing it as it touches his skin and throws a low kick in 360 degrees to your feet, but you jump it over. You embed the staff in the dirt and use the strength on your torso to hold your body horizontal as you return two quick kicks to the face and the side of the right arm.
You jump back twice as you watch his dominant arm roll and his hand over his shoulder, you separate your feet and position the staff in front of you. You know the punch you gave him in the face upset him, "Don't take it personally."
“We're playing, aren't we?” Your smile hasn't left your face, which on any other occasion wouldn't have bothered the black-haired boy, in fact, it felt kind of special when it was towards him because you don't usually let your mocking personality escape with others. But on this occasion he could swear that you were mocking him, eyes glowing and pearly sharp teeth just like the Cheshire cat. You knew that even if he kept fighting he was holding back the strength he used, while you obviously weren’t.
He didn’t respond.
You retracted the bōjutsu, you held it against your lower back, both arms gripping it at your sides. You started slowly walking to him, dragging dangerously your feet, if he wasn't going to be the offensive, then you'd take it. He stayed in his place, his lips pursed and his eyebrows lightly furrowed.
You didn't stop your walk when you entered his personal space because there were no signs that he was going to attack, he was thinking but you still hadn't discovered what, in the meantime you would use that time to give your muscles a break. You prolonged your presence in front of him enough to notice the scratches on his face up close, the kick you gave him had left the mark of your boot on his nice-looking face.
You'd bet he still felt the heat in the area, because your face was still resenting the punch he gave you earlier. You huffed in his face, tilting your face up brushing him with your gaze. He didn’t moved, he was just following with his eyes.
"Look, I'll put down my cane to make it easier for you." You teased him, throwing the wood stick away so neither of you could grab it, “Don’t be mad, Su-gu-ru.” You whispered his name in his ear for the first time, just a palm away to let your breath warm the skin of his neck. His eyebrows raised, electricity running through his body and forcing him to throw a punch to your side.
You blocked it, but that was just what he wanted, because immediately from the other side you felt a kick behind your knee, in slow motion you saw how the world was going forward as you fell to your back, but a hand grabbed you by the collar of your uniform, Suguru was falling with you.
You reached for the collar of his uniform, your smile had now dropped.
How does he dare to use my trick like this? You thinked.
How does she dare to use my name like this? He thinked.
Both were frowning and gritting your teeth on the floor, Suguru kneeling on top of you, both legs on the side of your hips, still intertwined by the grip of each other's uniform collar and the other hand raised over the other's chest to summon your own cursed techniques.
The silence was filled with heavy breaths, not only from tiredness but also from the emotional heights you provoked in each other. His figure was outlined by the orange sunset, you could see how the lock of hair he always let rest over his forehead now danced in the air while his gaze went from your hand to your face, trying to understand the situation they were in, this was not how he had planned for them to fall, so you were the one who put them in that situation? No, he grabbed you first. He felt the heat rise to his face.
You didn't know what to do, the weight of his body was beginning to take hold on yours, your cheeks were beginning to burn, you had never been in a situation like this- you had never been so close to Suguru. You both began to panic, at what point had it occurred to you to activate your cursed technique against the other?
You were the one who lifted your back off the ground but it was him who pushed back the grip.
Both wanted to look away to hide your faces so that your thoughts couldn’t be read by the other, but the desire to see this new view of the other didn’t let any of you.
You were sitting on the ground, Suguru had his hands at his sides, digging his fingers into the earth, trying to keep desperation from taking control of his body. His heart skipped a beat when he saw your mouth fall open but held back the words, he was wondering if you were going to stand up and leave him, the thought that you were disappointed in him for not being able to contain his emotions was creeping in him.
"Truce?" You dared to ask, the air escaping from your lungs in relief when you saw his expression relax.
You thought he was actually offended this time, you usually tease him but you hadn't found his limit yet, you feared that this was it. You hadn't known him for long but he had lightened your days since you entered Jujutsu High, his soft gaze and the comfort of his smile were worth much more than a thousand words.
“Truce.” He accepted, bringing his hand closer to squeeze it with yours. The warmth of his palm invades yours, when you separate you can't help but feel the absence of his touch. “I'm sorry, for everything.”
You feel like your stomach has turned over, now you feel compelled to apologize, it wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for his gaze piercing you. His eyes are full of sincerity, guilt weighs on your shoulders, you are the one who breaks eye contact and look down at your lap.
"I'm sorry too, you know I like to tease you and I think I went too far." You admit, embarrassment causing your voice to waver. Although that doesn't limits you to brush the tip of your foot against his leg, you manage to get a glimpse of a smile when you do that, but it fades when you keep talking, "About the last thing, I won't do it again-"
“It doesn't bother me.” His thoughts escape out loud, his eyes widened at this. He wasn’t lying, it really didn't bother him, but he hoped you would say his name in another scenario and not as a joke in an attempt to provoke him. “I just got caught off guard, I didn't act like that for that reason, my head just tricked me. I mean it." He swear.
You stayed silent, analyzing that he didn't answer because he felt under pressure, but it was noticeable that he was speaking from the heart.
Suguru came closer, his body towering over you, when he gets too close that makes you remember the differences in your sizes. "After all, I do address you by your name, it's only fair," he tries to convince you, although you were the one who asked him to call you by your name because your dislike for your surname, but you can’t help but give him the reason when the corners of his eyes twitching as he smiles.
“Sure.” You give up.
His face lights up a little when you smile back, but that only emphasizes the blue of your cheekbone from the punch he gave you, his instinct is to trace his thumb over your skin, you notice a slight bitterness in his expression that he doesn't try to suppress, "We have to go back and check this out." He said in a whisper, though to you it was loud enough to make you feel a pang in your chest.
Even if he had more bruises and a more sore body, he still was very compassionate and careful with you. He always managed to surprise you with his kindness, for you, this world didn’t deserve people like him.
"Let's go, country boy." You told him, ruffling his hair. He growled, hiding the fact that the nickname was beginning to grow on him.
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lovelybotblog · 4 months ago
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─ ii. reading you
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summary: Gojo Satoru is nothing more than an arrogant busybody who can't stand the fact that he can't read you like an open book, and it bothered him to the core when he gets into trouble for trying to understand you. pairing: Satoru Gojo x female reader, Suguru Geto x female reader note: the faceclaim used in the banner is made by "Freesiya13" on Pinterest, but feel free to use your own. song of the chapter: crimson and clover by the shacks word count: 3.3k
<<previous
Even though most of the time Satoru Gojo opened his mouth to speak about being the strongest and that his heavenly appearance was only the fair equivalent for someone of value like him, sometimes he couldn't help but let some over-thinked thoughts whisper in the back of his head.
All his life his mere existence had been praised by some and questioned by others for the fact that he possessed a power like no other. He had grown up like a king, surrounded by instructors, clothes and furniture of the best of its kind. He was aware that he was arrogant and that people considered him annoying and conceited, but the opinion of anyone considered weak compared to him -basically everyone- was completely invalid.
Of course there were ways in which he could admire a person, for example his new classmates, it was the first time he was ranked in the same place as people his age. They all had interesting skills and personalities that refreshed the environment he was used to, yet it had been three weeks since classes started and he couldn't ignore the fact that he still couldn't read you.
He knew your name, he knew the clan you were from, he knew that if you were in the same room as him it meant he wasn’t the only one who could brat and terrorize people only by the presence you emanated. But he also knew he wasn’t part of your liking.
He never cared if he was liked by people, and not to brag but it was kind of natural for him to be liked for at least someone, and he did not care about you disliking him at all. But dammit- why couldn't he read you?
You were this ambiguous specter in his mind, all ghostly and distant. He already had tried to talk to you, once, but it's the intention that counts. He approached you to say hello, just a casual greeting in one of the hallways, he even over-used his available kindness to lower his level to appear more friendly and approachable to you, and what did you do? You walked past him without even looking, brushing your shoulder against his as if he were invisible.
Were you a haughty woman or just partially blind?
It tickled, it cramped his ego. He with all the Six Eyes and none of it could throw him a hint of your personality. 
He already classified the other two classmates in the same year as his: Suguru Geto as a potential equal, he was morally strong and definitely more kind and mannered than him, and Shoko Ieiri, an intelligent and unproblematic girl with a very useful technique. They both seemed to get along with you, he has seen you practicing your contact combat with Geto and sharing a conversation with Ieiri while having dinner.
But there was no way he was the problem, he didn't even know you.
“All of you already know how to dispel a curse, as we saw in the field testing.” Professor Yaga explained in front of his students with crossed arms, he knew that even though the young generation had an incredible potential, they were gonna trouble him more than he could possibly imagine. “Each of you has a unique curse technique and it should be used rightfully.”
The older man ranted about some things that Satoru only could hear ‘blah, blah, blah’ entering his right ear and exiting by the left one, he was too focused observing some lost point in the cascade of your hair, as if that would miraculously give him discernment on his journey for answers.
The classroom just counted with four desks in a square-shaped alignment, you on the top-left, Geto next to you on the top-right, Gojo behind him and Ieiri on the bottom-left behind you. In Satoru's opinion, it seemed quite ridiculous that the school's classrooms were so big and quite numerous for the low number of students who attended. 
It was uncomfortable to see the lack of furniture in the room, although deep down he knew that he preferred to be in the company of three strangers than being educated at home by a boring, grumpy instructor who was one step away from death.
“You are not only being taught to control your cursed techniques and develop them, but also to use them and become admirable jujutsu sorcerers." Yaga continued lecturing. 
An annoying discomfort was beginning to grow in Satoru, he still didn't know if it was the heat of the weather, his glasses that kept falling down the bridge of his nose (although it was his fault for sitting in a strange position), or the fact that you probably felt his gaze piercing the back of your head and you were controlling yourself from giving him the pleasure of looking at him.
He was completely absorbed in his thoughts, he wasn't even aware of how many minutes he had been staring at you without stopping. If you tilted your head slightly to the right he would be able to catch a glimpse of your expression, maybe you were trying hard to not let him see anything more than your hair but you were making it look effortless, and he hoped so, because if he was naturally destined to not expose you it would drive him nuts.
A giggle was heard next to Satoru, he didn't change the direction of his gaze but he knew it was Ieiri's. Neither she nor he were the most studious of the four teens, Satoru had seen how in class she spent most of her time doodling on the edges of her notebook or staring blankly at some point in the room. But now the act that captured her attention was Satoru.
Her fun had started with him occasionally glancing at you, curiosity that would turn into stalking activities, he would look at you with his eyes squinting until he stuck his tongue out at you. 
She thought he was just trying to annoy you like he usually did with her and Geto, she was hoping you would notice and give him one of your terrifying judgemental gazes, but when you didn't even deign to turn to look at him was when she realized it was on purpose, she knew the situation was deeper than just the immature attitude of the heir to the Gojo clan.
The pencil that Satoru had been playing with earlier, maneuvering it through his fingers, had fallen to the ground and now the boy was almost lying on his desk, both elbows supporting his body to lean towards you, trying to make his gaze more noticeable.
Ieiri was too entertained trying not to burst out laughing at the boy's manic face, both eyes wide open with the blue popping out more than normal and his teeth clashing against each other due to the lack of fulfillment of his intention.
“Satoru Gojo, sit back now!” Professor Yaga screamed in rage, a sudden gust of air disturbing the classroom, the four of the students startled in their seats.
Shoko finally let out the laugh of her life without any intention of holding back, the sound of her voice filling the room. Satoru snapped out of his trance, still in the same psychotic position. He felt the heat rush run up to his head, throwing his body back into his seat when your gaze finally caught his. He hid his face with his long, thin hand, knowing his cheeks would be tinted pink with embarrassment. Not only you but Yaga and Suguru were also staring at him in shock.
“Shut up!” Satoru yelled at Shoko who was gloating in her seat, clutching her stomach from the pain the laughter was beginning to cause her. 
His impulsive intent to play it cool knowing that what happened surprised him more than it did to you turned out pathetic. His hands were gripped tightly on the edges of the desk, his eyebrows were furrowed, and his teeth were grinding together from the friction. That only fueled the flame that made Shoko laugh even more.
She laughed and clapped her hands in amusement, Satoru traveled his eyes in his classmate's actions trying to blur out your gaze that was still on him off his mind, he could see out of the corner of his eye how an expression of disgust only grew on your face.
Fuck it, he looked up at you, placing his hands on his thighs for support. One, two, three, -look the other way, was all he could bear. 
He sat back in his chair, one hand over his forehead to at least hide from Shoko's mocking gaze. "Just continue with the class." Satoru insisted, waving his free hand to brush off the attention.
And although Yaga was not a fan of giving Satoru what he wanted, it really was better to continue with the class. "Well, as I was saying."
Shoko settled back into her seat again, still with a giddy grin on her face. Geto locked his confused gaze on Satoru, who just shook his head in response as he dipped in his coped hands. Geto turned his gaze forward, but not before glancing at you, who were still looking at the white-haired boy.
Satoru wondered where his nonchalant ability had gone. He was hoping to get some reaction out of you, not to be seen by the entire class as a creep, and even worse being exposed by Yaga. 
Satoru exhaled the air from his lungs, running a hand through his hair with his head still down, the burn from his cheeks had already disappeared but the heat of his ears was still burning. He wanted to get out of there already, he had to breathe fresh air and pour a bottle of cold water on his head. He wanted to scream at you and make you an ugly face for what you put him through but there was a chance that you were still looking at him, he sneaked a glance anyway.
You still were. He scrunched his nose and buried his head into his arms as he let a grunt out.
A free period until the next class saved Satoru, who quickly stood up from his desk. Geto, who was just closing his notebook, was pulled out of the classroom in a millisecond. Satoru’s usual chatter always tends to contain exaggerated words that don't really reflect his complex personality.
And even though he just met Geto, Satoru trusts him enough to talk about a lot of nonsense while Geto just looks kindly at him with his little pursed-lip smile, and if necessary Geto will tell him what he needs to in order to keep him in line. 
The black-haired boy chuckled at the other's hasty action, but Satoru was very focused on Shoko's conversation with you back in the classroom, “Oh my god, you are so funny, I literally love you.” Ieiri’s voice was heard with her giggles at the end, he could imagine you two, you would be standing with an eyebrow raised completely unfazed by the recent situation while the brown-haired girl would poke one of your cheeks. 
Satoru couldn't hear any more of the said as he was now being guided by Geto, who was directing them towards the vending machines at the end of the hallway. 
"I still can't figure out what you were doing in class." Geto choked, Satoru rolled his eyes, he also didn't fully understand how he got to that extreme. 
“Yo, neither do I.” He admitted, “Look, I’m trying to figure her out because for me she is a total lunatic, like- what do you mean you don’t want to talk to the Satoru Gojo?” The white hair baffled to the side when the boy sent his head back, his companion just mumbled a ‘mhmp’ sound make the other keep going, “And, fine, let’s hypothetically say I don’t physically like her, I tried to talk to her and she totally ignored me, that is just straight evil behavior.” 
Satoru leaned against a wall when they reached the vending machine, Geto looked at him for a couple of seconds trying to identify if he was joking or serious this time.
“She might be difficult to deal with, but I don't think that counts as evilness, Gojo." The raven-haired boy said, placing a finger on the glass of the machine in front of him as he analyzed all the drink flavors that were available.
“No, I’m telling you, I saw it on the deeps of her eyes.” Gojo shook his head, lowering his glasses to point at his eyes with his index fingers. “Maybe she was sent to terrorize me, maybe it is the price of my incredible power."
“Or the karma of your actions?” Geto corrected. 
His friend laughed as if it were a joke, until he recounted his actions and if it was a possibility, his smile faded. “Nah, I’m too beyond that.” The arrogance in his tone made Geto shiver.
The sound of the machine buzzed in their ears, clicking sounds echoed as Suguru typed in the code for the drink that he decided to choose. The yen coins fell through the cash mouth of the machine.
“When we all first met I could read you and Ieiri right away, I don't know if it was because she passed over us or-” Satoru’s explanation was interrupted by a question from Geto ‘Cherry coke or lime soda?’, Gojo thought on in and continued his phrase, “Cherry, -or if her energy is already dictated to be unknown.” Seconds later a lime soda and a cherry coke fell into the push collection tray.
“I think it's just her energy, when I had my first interaction with her I didn't notice her presence until she spoke to me,” Geto continued the thread of the conversation, passing the cherry-flavored drink to his classmate, “Geez, I don’t wanna even imagine how long it took me to notice her.” He admitted with an embarrassed smile and a soft look on his eyes, which were still navigating in the machine’s products.
Satoru twitched at the care with which Geto spoke the words.
“Or maybe she is just a brat.” Gojo cut the crap.
Suguru choked with the drink he had just zipped, he looked around to verify you weren't near close, if you were there he could visualize the tick on your eyebrow before jumping on Satoru's head to drag him all over the school.
“What? She kind of is.”
The black-haired one grabbed the seasoned chips and strawberry pocky that he had just received from the expending machine and walked out of the building with Gojo, somewhere where you couldn’t hide in the shadows and suddenly appear. 
“You can’t just say that, not like that in a place where people could hear you.” Suguru explained, passing a hand by his hair in relief.
“Huh? Why would I care?” Satoru retorted, hands in his pockets. “Yes, that was the answer I was searching for, Geto. She’s a brat, that’s why she struts all around the place.” He continued talking, mocking your walk, sticking out his bump exaggeratedly and his hands up in the air like the princess in the cartoon run. “Yes, I’m a smarty, you are dumb” He started his imitation of you, pointing at Suguru as if you were a dictator in his head, he couldn’t help a smile slip with his friend’s poor imitation. “Yes, I’m a scary Zen’in, so do what I want!” Geto tried to put a hand on the other’s face when he talked a little too loud. Satoru pushed him aside.
The white-haired man finally found some fun as he put his hands on his hips as the bossy image of you popped out in his head. 
“Oh, you trying to silence me, little sir?” He teased Geto with a British accent, who couldn’t help but chuckle at his classmate's foolishness “How dare you? I’m so much better than you, that’s right, so off with your head!" Satoru grinned as he flicked Geto’s forehead, they both laughed, Geto jerking away when Gojo tried to grab him as he falled to the grass beneath them.
The black-haired boy imitated him, “You are the dumbest.” Suguru swore as he propped his chin on his hand.
“No, you are the dumbest, silly.” Satoru poked Suguru’s cheek, who just shaked his head at the prolonged joke. “I’m y/n, I walk around looking down on everyone just because I look pretty.” Gojo laughed leaning in his back, not realizing that the joke had made him overspill.
Geto no longer laughed, one eyebrow raised, "She does walk around looking pretty but I don't think she underestimates everyone.”
Gojo raised his head, resting his elbows on the ground to get a better view of the other, "Did you just call her pretty?"
They both looked into each other's eyes, Geto's head felt like it was spinning, “I didn’t, you said it. I was quoting you.” He leered.
“Nuh-uh, why would I say that?” Satoru retorted, sitting straight to face the defensive stand Suguru was putting. 
“Well, I don’t know, man. You were the one who said it,” Suguru responded, shrugging his shoulders, “You don’t think she is pretty? It's fine, you can take it back.”
The heat Satoru felt way earlier in the day just returned to do a part two of redness stepping in his face and ears, the pounding in his hands only made it worse. He felt like he was being interrogated, but he bet that an interrogation by the most fearsome policemen wouldn’t compare to the nervousness he provoked himself.
“She is- wait, no. I mean, I could say she is pretty, yes but,” His verbal diarrhea only increased with Geto's pressing expression and narrowed eyes, not letting him think clearly. “But I could also say you are prettier-”
“Gojo, just shut up, please.” Suguru begged, passing a hand over his face, then reaching for the bag of chips and chunking a handful of it.
Satoru would definitely adore to shut his mouth but it was something he still wasn’t able to control in situations like this, “Like, it is a normal thing to say, okay?” Suguru knew there was just one way to end this hell and it was by listening to all of it. “Just as I could say it about you, I could also say it about Shoko, yeah, or about Professor Yaga... well, I wouldn't like to say that.” 
Geto nodded, closing his eyes as he introduced another fist of chips in his mouth trying to concentrate on something else.
“But, it's not weird nor saying she isn’t. You are his friend," Geto was unsure of that, "-it would be weirder if you said it.” The snow-haired man was cooling his head with the dissipated attention from him. Geto waited a few seconds in case any other word stepped out of the other’s mouth, thankfully it didn’t.
They both sighed.
Satoru tried to grab one chip but Geto jerked the bag of his hand, shrinking it away. “You don’t get to eat this.”
Satoru laid on his back, crossing his arms behind his head, the sun brushing the light on his skin, embracing him with warmth.
“Just forget everything I said.”
Geto laid on his side, “I also would like that.”
The rest of their free time was spent lying on the grass, every now and then a breeze of wind filled the silence between them. It was awkward while the conversation lasted but they knew that in a few days they would be laughing about it.
Instead, you would still remain unresolved in Satoru's mind, wandering in his thoughts, haunting him. Maybe he felt you were a reflection of him and that's why he wanted to know what you were, he wanted to find the difference between the two of you. While he had a lot to say about him, he could barely scratch the surface of you.
After all, he still couldn't read you.
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Note: Guys I loved this chapter, I really hope I could portrait the characters teen personalities and also would love if you liked this.
Feel free to tell me if you would like me to write something specific, xoxo.
Part three
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lovelybotblog · 4 months ago
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─ home sweet prison
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summary: For Suguru Geto, the torrential rain that broke out on the first day of his new school could only be a sign of bad omen, or so he thought. pairing: Suguru Geto x female reader note: "y/n" is gonna be used, the faceclaim used in the banner is made by "Freesiya13" on Pinterest, but feel free to use your own. song of the chapter: Trees And Flowers by Strawberry Switchblade word count: 1.5k
Shoes clattered against the stone floor, the shoulders of the uniform beginning to darken with the falling water. The sunny, warm day that the weather forecast had predicted was agonizingly innacurrate.
For a young country boy like Suguru Geto, it was disappointing that his foolish fantasy of starting school as the typical main character student in Tokyo of a manga could come true.
But of course, the only mistake he made was believing the strange-looking man who showed up at his house to preach to him about how Suguru could protect the weak with the power he possessed. The man gave him a full introduction about the jujutsu community and how Suguru had the opportunity to interact with other people his age who were in the same situation.
"What am I getting myself into?" He growled to himself as he walked quickly towards the entrance of the supposed sorcery school.
He was trying to convince himself that he was taking the right path. In his village he had never met anyone with the skills he had and he doubted that if he stayed there he would be able to exploit his potential or even understand it. Yes, it was the risk he had to take to achieve a purpose in life.
A bus had left him on the highway, from there he walked a hill where he was caught in the rain and now he found himself hiding in a small covered area to protect himself from the water that had only increased the torrent.
He ran a hand over his face to remove the drops of water that were beginning to cloud his vision. He looked further down the road and still couldn't see the school nearby. The land was so large that it was obvious that it wasn't a normal school.
His teacher had offered to meet him at the train station but Suguru wanted to prove to himself that he was capable of navigating alone in the real world, besides, being accompanied by his teacher would mean that he would meet his classmates with his scared appearance of newby. So, no way.
He crouched down, just noticing his lack of breath caused by the extreme change of environment. His chest felt like it was closing and his nose was drying up from inhaling quickly for air.
He still had to walk to the school entrance, where Professor Yaga had told him to wait for him when he arrived with his classmates. He closed his eyes and placed his right hand on the bridge of his nose, listening to the rain splashing around him.
"What are you doing?" A voice rang out from in front of him, causing his posture to shift in surprise.
Suguru's gaze scanned from bottom to top, there were black boots, tights up to the knee, skirt and jacket of the same color and buttons as his, it was another student. It was a girl.
"Since when are you here?" Suguru asked, standing up from his old position, placing his index finger and thumb on his temple trying to hide the embarrassment on his face.
"At school or in front of you?" The girl answered with another question and a monotone tone that matched her expressionless face.
Suguru looked at her skeptically, his eyes squinting, there was no way in which she was by his side all this time and if she arrived later he didn't notice her presence either.
"Don't look at me like that," the girl complained, crossing her arms. Now Suguru raised an eyebrow and showed a sassy pout. "Well, don't look at me like that either." she muttered in indignation.
They stood side by side in silence, both avoiding looking at each other. Although Suguru couldn't help but feel the energy she emanated, now quite noticeable. Her fearless posture made him conclude that she was more aware than him about what they were experiencing.
The weather had only gotten worse, even if he resigned himself to run up to the school he would end up soaked and the impression he had worked hard to act would be thrown out the window. The corners of his lips turned up slightly, it was all like a bad joke.
"The rain doesn't seem like it's going to stop." Suguru tried to start a small talk but was cut off by a -swoosh- sound.
The girl opened an umbrella and turned her back on him. Just when Suguru thought she would leave him standing there, her mouth played a melody again, "Are you coming or are you just going to stand there looking like a kicked puppy?"
Suguru stood under the umbrella thinking about the bad first impression she was careless leaving, but when he was close enough to see her face he noticed a hint of mockery in her lips.
He returned the intention by rolling his eyes, biting his cheek to keep from smiling. "At least let me be the one carrying the umbrella." he pleaded, grabbing the handle of the object but there was no disposition from the girl to let it go.
"No, I'll carry it so people think you're leaving the chivalry to the girl on a day as troubled as this." Her lips moved as she said those provocative words while putting on a suffering face.
When her eyes connected with his again a shock of electricity ran through Suguru's body.
"Huh?" He barked, snatching the umbrella from her hand. Was she really there for the same reason as him?
The girl hysterically giggled, it was contagious and it tickled his ear, she covered her mouth as Suguru's face only brought more fun to the situation. "Of course you are the one who is carrying the umbrella, it is the least you should do." She smiled.
"Pfft..." Suguru snorted as he looked ahead, she was vile, and he couldn't help but think that she still got him out of his recent misfortune. She annoyed him for fun and the bastard gloated at his side walking calmly with her hands linked behind her back, looking all inocent.
The rain echoed against the fabric of the umbrella above him. His overwhelming thoughts from when he was on the ground were now gone and his breathing was in tune with the girl beside him, the girl- he still didn't know her name.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his nose scrunched at the thought of giving up control of the conversation. She caught his gaze on her.
"You can ask whatever you have in mind." She remarked simply, Suguru scoffed, of course he could, she said it without any trace of self-importance and yet Suguru could sense it as mockery.
Hesitating, Suguru opened the conversation as he put his free hand into his pants pocket, “My name is Suguru Geto” He introduced himself nonchalantly, the girl repeated his name in a whisper. Suguru's intention for her to respond with her name was ignored, so he forced himself to speak again, "Are you going to tell me your name?"
She cocked her head, "Oh, I could tell you my name," she teased, closing her eyes when one of the boy's eyes tweaked in annoyance. "I'm y/n Zen'in" her grin now fading.
Zen'in, Zen'in, Zen'in, it repeated in Suguru's head trying to remember where he had heard it before, just when he was about to untangle his memory, as if his inner voice had answered him, he heard the answer.
"As Zen'in of the Big Three Sorcerer Families."
Suguru couldn't help but flinch, that was where the huge sign of caution the girl had on her head came from.
"But call me by my name, I hate that kind of formality." She brushed off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
The walking path became narrow, the trees stopped looking like a forest and the typical Japanese-style buildings began to take on a closer dimension. He didn't knew if the pressure was coming back because the reality of being a sorcerer was in front of him or if the girl's elegant posture and powerful energy emanating from her was dazing him a little. In any case, Professor Yaga had warned him about the Zen'in descendants and another surname that he couldn't remember either.
In the distance, at the foot of the stairs of the main building, he managed to notice Yaga. "Does that make you feel more special?" Suguru chortled, hiding the nervousness that was beginning to manifest itself with his hands. Apparently Yaga had arrived earlier than expected, there were two unknown heads at his side, an incredibly huge cursed energy unlike the rest was present, but it wasn't y/n.
The girl's smile had completely faded, her presence was no longer playful, it was as if she had closed up, her expression completely hardened.
"Not at all." She stated, lifting her chin and clenched fists.
They were already a few meters away from Professor Yaga and the other two students, a snow-white head of hair and a brunette bob waved their hands to the two teens under the umbrella.
The sun had returned and the rain was nothing more than light sprinkles, while Suguru returned the greeting to his former classmates, the girl at his side did not stop walking and continued ahead, leaving the group of new students behind. Professor Yaga sighed as if he was already familiar with that fiery character.
"Welcome to Tokyo Jujutsu High." The teacher introduced the school with a ginormous smile and his hands raised up to the air.
Suguru wasn't an insecure or fearful person, but for some reason no one seemed frightened, just him.
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Note: Sooo this is the first chapter, ik is not much but I found this very funny because this has so many hints about the future story. And I'm sorry for using the cliche of the powerful/important main character but let's be fr, I don't think Suguru or Gojo could fell in love the way they are gonna do with someone just kind and funny lol
Part two
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lovelybotblog · 4 months ago
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─ Where the seeds grow.
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader
Content: angst, fluff, complicated frienship, reader is clueless, timeskips, canon events, longing, mutual and solo pining, emotionally restrained teenagers, found family, rivals!gojo, unrequited love.
✶ SUMMARY: In sorcery there is no room for doubt, you flourish and reborn with your personal growth or you retreat into the occult. Love and friends are the two most devastating curses you can face, in which even the strongest can lack that victory.
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Chapters
first year - 2005 i. home sweet prison ii. reading you iii. desperate times call for desperate measures iv. sympathy is a knife v. (coming soon...)
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─ Note: This is a fanfic/imagines with consecutive stories, the story is based on dreams and scenarios that have occurred to me. English is not my first language but I wanted to share this story. Also, this fanfic is based in the song lotus flower by radiohead.
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lovelybotblog · 4 months ago
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my name is LOV ' ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ⭑.ᐟ
satoru’s wife and suguru’s lover.
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Masterlist
- Current fixation: jujutsu kaisen.
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