strawberrymochin

[strawberrymochin]

Ever felt you lost your creativity?......I do.

The things I loved to do seem like a distant hazy summer night dream for me, even if I reach out to embrace it with affection, it just slips away till I'm scared to forward my hand anymore— scared to ruin the once shining flame which stands dim and dull...now.

[strawberrymochin]

𝐀 𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 ☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

satosugu x fem!reader

Synopsis- Satoru once came across a rumour regarding a cafe he visited years ago. Rumour has, it possesses the capability to whisk one back in time— to the past. He never took time travel seriously. After all it was a law of nature, a string left to be untouched even by jujutsu. Yet, now years later, he finds himself fiddling in front of the cafe contemplating whether to get in or not. 

Warnings- time travel!au, gojo travels back in time to meet geto one last time and talk to him without regrets, so so so angsty with fluffy fluff that makes one melt, deep conversations, emotional conflict, mentions of death & blood, geto being so soft with gojo, reader being so cold to gojo, cozy vibes, based on ‘before the coffee gets cold’ by toshikazu kawaguchi.

Word count- 4.3k

a/n- omg! i finished writing this in one day. i had this idea ever since i read the series. i really wanted satoru to travel back in time and meet geto. this is a fic i wrote for me. please tell me if this brings a smile on your face. comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. do read the book its amazing and yeah have a good day besties. oh and a yuuta fic is coming soon.

Gojo satoru, always had a big cocky smile plastered to his face. A smile which overshadowed his eyebags, his half healed melancholic wounds and his regrets. 

He loved being a jujutsu sorcerer. But often he had not. Especially, when past memories come back overflowing in his mind, drowning him out of the present. Sinking him in the despair of not being able to save someone who was so close to his heart. And he regretted it. 

He regretted the words he left unsaid to geto suguru, the one who once claimed to be his best friend. 

The one, who's body is lying, trapped in cold webs of death. 

Gojo wasn't a person who had enough time to reminisce about the past. He had to take care of missions, exorcising curses, teach his beloved students and save the youth of the young generation to feel less guilty. 

Most of the days being hectic which he'd spend with the same cocky smile, grinning from teeth to teeth. And yet amongst his tight schedule which only allows him 3 hours of slumber, he still couldn't get a brink of sleep without having flashed the face of his best friend. 

And the familiar feeling of having a lump in the throat, unable to shout out the words he intended to say. He intended to cry out desperately for geto to stop. To not leave him behind. 

But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get one word past his lips. He just simply couldn't. Maybe because he knew geto wouldn't listen. Or maybe he was afraid of rejection. Whatever the reason might be, back then, now it's all excuses. 

Years later, the itch of unable to form those words still persists and it grows each day. Thrives in the threshold of the suppressed emotions gojo has buried deep in his heart. 

Yet.

And yet.

Here he was, standing infront of the cafe ‘lá láttes��� contemplating whether to get in or not. 

He used to frequent this cafe with geto during his first and second years. Before everything went wrong. 

Geto always found this one cafe, a bit peculiar with bits of comfort hidden inside. He loved coming to this cafe and always used to order pumpkin spice latte without the maple syrup. Odd indeed gojo thought. 

Though he loved the way geto drank up his latte, the way he used to gulp and nod satisfactorily at the taste being not very sweet. 

The cafe was situated at the outskirts of Tokyo, back in a narrow alley. It was a basement cafe with only 9 seats to offer. Most of the time it didn't attract any new customers but only a bunch of regulars, among whom geto was one.

The cafe still looked the same from a decade ago. Only a little to no renovations were noticed. 

The board which displayed the cafe's name was still covered with the big leaves of a money plant curling itself from the stand. 

Clang-dong

The glass door opened as gojo shifted his head to the other direction trying to appear nonchalant. He slowly brought back his vision to the person who came outside to dump the trash. The recognition rang through in his mind as pictures of the owner flashed in his mind. He has grown old, now grey tainting his previous brown hair.

The owner looked at gojo, dusting off his hands, as his eyes narrowed at him. 

“Omg, the blue eyed? Aren't you?” 

Gojo frozen for a second, mentally cursing himself for gaping at the owner. Smiling nervously, he nodded at the owner, “good afternoon.” 

“Haha, good afternoon, you've grown up quite a bit hah!” The owner closed the distance between them before grabbing the door handle and opening it. “Come in. Let me treat ya’.” He said, gesturing to him to come inside. 

“Oh no! You don't have to.” Hands vigorously shaking criss cross, not wanting to freeload. The cafe itself has a very few customer base, gojo can't sit right with the idea of freeloading. 

“Nah! It's on the house. Come in boy!” the owner dragged him in. 

Clang-dong

The doorbell chimed through the staircase as the owner guided him downstairs to the basement. The smell hasn't changed too, musky and rich with the aroma of crushed coffee beans. 

As expected the cafe was empty except for two customers, one occupying the seat very last to the third row. His back hunched over several magazines, scribbling information on a small notepad. 

While the other one was a lady in white, a big straw hat placed on her table while she read a novel with golden letters printed on the covers —‘The lovers’, barely looking up from the book. 

Gojo recognised her as a regular. He'd noticed her often when he tagged along with geto. She wore the same white flowy dress down her knees and always read the same novel. 

The owner asked him to sit on the counter and order a drink of his choice, passing him the menu card. 

“Pumpkin spice latte,” gojo said without bothering to look at the menu. “Without maple syrup.” His eyes growing foggy as distant memories start clouding his mind. He sighed, before turning to look at the regular seat they used to occupy. The middle one in the first row. 

Did geto still used to visit this cafe even after they stopped contacting each other? He couldn't help but wonder. 

“Do you know the rumours about this cafe?” Geto said, sipping on his pumpkin spice. 

“Rumours?” 

“Yes, people say this cafe can whisk one back in time.” Gojo choked on his drink trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in his throat. “Really? You want me to believe in this shit?” 

“Naah! But it's interesting, even a jujutsu sorcerer can't interfere with time.” geto’s crescent moons crinkled a bit as he quirked a sassy eyebrow at him. “If you could go back in time, who would you meet?” geto asked raising his eyebrows. 

“I simply wouldn't.” 

“Huh? Why?” 

“Because it's not possible.” Gojo laughed it off, while geto just sulked a little. He firmly believed that interfering with the flow of time isn't possible. It could distort the world and just simply impossible. 

He didn't answer geto’s question back then. 

He wondered why?

Maybe because he didn't have any reason to go back.

But what about now?

“Here…” the owner passed the pumpkin spice latte to gojo as he muttered thanks to the owner. “So, haven't seen you here for a while…. where's your friend?” 

Gojo stopped midway on his sip of latte, he looked at the owner and put the glass back down. “eh…you see…” he couldn't quite find the right words to say. Normally he would have maintained his composure and maybe even winked and said ‘sowwy I killed him.’ with a peace sign included. 

However he seemed unable to regain his normal demeanor. The mask he put on for so long was broken. And it shattered into pieces with his vulnerable self showing, bare to the world. He felt ashamed for no reason. 

“He…um is dead.” Awkwardly shifting in the round stool, he couldn't meet his gaze with the owner. As if he could see through him and will be disgusted by the truth. The truth he hated for so long— of killing his best friend with his own hands. 

Of abandoning the corpse unable to handle the burden, leaving it to rot. Gojo felt disgusted, yet he masked himself with the same cocky smile he was fed up of wearing and went to his students.

Oh how awfully obnoxious he felt. 

And how desperately he wanted things to change. 

Later that night, he kept on washing his hands for hours. Scrubbing his skin with his nails, scraping the hands tainted in the blood of his beloved. 

His hands were clean. 

Though the red splatters of blood kept appearing again and again. 

“Oh,” the owner gulped, shifting his eyes from gojo to the kitchen. 

Gojo opened his mouth once again. He had practiced these words for the past week. He was the strongest. Then why was he getting nervous now? He gulped his own saliva trying to moisten his dried throat. 

The pumpkin spice latte was still untouched. 

“I wa—” he didn't get to finish his sentence as the owner interrupted him. His old wrinkled eyes now had a dull spark. Dangerous even, saying to be left untarnished but as if compelled to a spell, he spilled the words in gojo's stead. “So, you want to go back in time.” 

If you could go back in time, who would you meet?

“Yes,” gojo lets out a shaky breath, wiping his clammy hands on the fabric of his pants. “Yes, I do.” 

He sounded desperate, for he'd been wretched in anguishing fraught, so long that now the cry echoed in his ears. He'd seen geto, controlled by kenjaku. His body, being used even after his death— a weapon. 

Is this the curse of being a jujutsu sorcerer? 

He regretted the very moment. If only he'd said those words back then maybe the present he was living in would be a bit different. 

If only he tried a little hard.

If only. 

“Why?” the owner asked him with unwavering eyes, piercing through his soul. “What reason do you have to go back?”

“I…there are words I need to convey.” Gojo gulped feeling hot and sweaty even though the basement was well ventilated. The owner narrowed his eyes as if scrutinizing him. “Can I really go back in time? I really need to tell him something.” 

The owner stayed quiet. His hands simply wiping the inside of the freshly washed glasses. “Sounds trivial.” 

A voice emerges from the kitchen as you handle the owner, a fresh pack of coffee beans yet to be grinded. 

“Wha—” 

“Y/n! Don't be rude to customers.” The owner said in hushed voice, which was clearly audible as the cafe was almost empty. 

You rolled your eyes at gojo and get back in the kitchen. 

“I'm sorry for my daughter's behavior.” 

“Oh…it's fine.” Gojo stayed quiet a while clearly offended but when the owner said nothing more, he stood up from his seat. That's right it was a rumour after all. Time travel isn't possible, what is he on drugs or something? He felt dumb for believing in something even kids wouldn't trust.

“I'm sorry for taking up your time. I'd like to pay for the drink.”

“eh…you're not going back?”

“To where?” 

“To the past.” 

“I…I can? It's true.” 

The owner smiled wryly before answering, “yes. It's true.”

Gojo felt like a dummy and his head spinning, he didn't wanted to believe in this, yet the slightest chance to meet geto and maybe change the future. 

“Though I would like to inform you, one can't change the present.” gojo’s eyes widened as if caught red handed stealing. He didn't get it, if all this was a joke or he was the joke. 

“Huh?” 

“You can travel back in time. That's upon the customer to decide. If you want, sure you can. But…” 

“But?” 

“Traveling back in time comes with lots of risk. And there are certain rules. One of them being— you can't change the present.” The owner explained now pouring the fresh coffee beans into the grinder. 

“What do you mean? Isn't a change back in the past followed by a change in the future?” 

“Well it's for the folks. However, no. You cannot change the present,” the owner waved his palm flat in the air, gesturing him to return to his seat. “You can try but the present will not be altered. A friend, dead will not be alive even if you try to prevent it.” 

“So are you still willing to go…even if the present can't be changed?” The owner shifted the grinded beans into the pot, ready to brew a handmade fresh cup of coffee, while waiting for gojo’s reply. 

Gojo looked back to the seat they used to occupy in the past. So what if he's still dead? If gojo can somehow share his feelings, or maybe even see his face— see geto, the real geto, the one who has its own soul and not controlled by kenjaku, the one who recognises gojo. It won't be that bad right?

“I still want to go,” gojo was disappointed, but even if seeing geto for one last time was possible he would not miss it. He'd regretted not acting upon his impulse before and he doesn't want to regret it again. Not now, given any benefit of doubts. 

“Sure.” The owner nods painfully slow, having gojo rethink if this isn't some vile prank. 

“So..?” 

“Oh, I'm afraid we'll have to wait for a while. The specific seat is now occupied by…um the lady in white. Y/n can explain the rules to you meanwhile.”

“Why? I can just request her to unoccupy the seat for a while.” Gojo suggested, standing up when the owner halted his actions. “Oh no! I'd suggest you not.” 

“Why?” 

“You see…the lady is…a ghost.” 

“A curse you mean…I can exorcise it.” 

“No. A ghost. Not a curse.” 

“Are you kidding me? If the thing is just a rumour you could just tell me the truth. There's no need to make excus—” The owners deadpan look caused his words to die midway. 

“How long do I've to wait?” 

“A little while. She will soon go to the washroom. You can finish your drink till then.” 

Gojo had no other option but to comply with the owner's words. He tried using his six eyes but for some reason it didn't work well as if the cafe has its own domain blocking out the powers of other jujutsu. 

A while later gojo had ordered two more drinks he finished sipping and the lady was still glued to her seat. ‘what a bummer!’ he thought. 

You walked out again from the kitchen this time with a bunch of paper napkins. “Why are you still here?” 

“Y/n!” The owner hushed you again, explaining you the entire situation and ushering you to explain the rules to gojo, who was sitting confused. 

You hated when people came here to travel back in time. The fact you even hated yourself more than you've to be involved in this.

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you step infront of the white haired guy. “I expect you know the rules?” You cocked an irritated eyebrow at him.

“Um…no.” 

“Ah…I might advise you to run away then. The rules aren't made for someone weak.” You smirk clearing away his empty cups for a wash.

“do you even know who I am? I'm gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer throughout heaven and earth.” he'd enough of your brat behavior.

“The strongest in your dreams…why are you so desperate to go back then? Do you regret anything you should've done but couldn't since you're a coward?” 

“Y/n!,” the owner scolded you, as you rolled your eyes again. “I'm sorry, she's always sensitive when we have customers wanting to travel back in time.” Gojo just nods at the owner. Your bitter words rang through his ears. And worse that you're more or less right. 

Do you regret anything you should've done but couldn't since you're a coward?

“I will be stating the rules…better be attentive.” You say taking in a deep breath calming your raging heart. 

“you can't change the present no matter how hard you try.

“you must sit in a specific seat for being able to travel back in time.

“you can only meet people who have been in the cafe.

“Once you're back in the past you can not get up from the seat. If you do, you will be forced back to the present. 

“Your time starts in the past once I start pouring the coffee in your cup and it lasts till your last sip of the coffee.

“That many?! Isn't it too overboard?” gojo interrupts you, his jaw opened wide hitting the counter. “Overboard or not. You've to follow…” 

The creaking noise hits both of your ears drawing attention to the lady in white. She slowly raised from her seat, flipping the book shut and placing it on the table. Emptying the seat, she went outside to the left, where the bathroom was. 

Clang-dong

Gojo looked at you. 

“Alright go take your seat.” 

What's so special about this specific seat? He thought but went anyway. Upon settling in the seat, he realised it’s no different from the ordinary chairs. Pretty much the same, however the temperature of the air surrounding the half of the table was slightly different from the rest of the cafe. It was a bit cold. 

Will he now go back to the past?

To geto suguru? 

What will he say? 

He'd practiced it so many times in his head, in front of the mirror, on his way to this cafe and yet he felt completely blank right now. 

He won't be able to change the present or the future, still….

You came over to his seat carrying a silver tray with a kettle of similar silver. There was nothing so special about the cups you placed infront of him too, clearing away the previously used ones of the lady in white. 

Gojo’s blank mind had millions of thoughts flooding now. What will he do if he ends up at the wrong time? Will he really travel back time? 

“You just need to imagine the time your friend was sure to visit while I pour the coffee.” You say, picking up on his thoughts, brewing the coffee now. 

The rich aroma of the coffee filled the entire atmosphere surrounding him. He wasn't really fond of coffee, especially hand brewed ones, he looked for the owner, his old eyes plastered on the glassdoor. 

“I will pour your cup now. Just remember to finish the entire cup before the coffee gets cold.” 

“what happens if I don't?”

“Then you will be sitting as a ghost in this seat until someone else occupies your position.” Gojo shot his head up to look at you, your eyes had the same deadpan look as the owner. “Just sip it before it gets cold and you will be fine.” 

You start pouring the coffee without allowing gojo anymore questions. 

He was about to speak, he didn't understand the last rule. What did it mean? But he couldn't get any voice out of his throat. 

A thin string of hot steam coming from his coffee gulped him in as if he was the steam himself, flowing up along with it. The three clocks surrounding the walls of the cafe now became big and blurry yet striking clear. Its hands are each revolving in different directions. It's not the time to think about what's happening. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine the day geto would surely make his visit. 

Saturday mornings.

Soon gojo’s waving body materialized as he felt his sensations back. His eyes still closed shut. Slowly he opened his eyes. The cafe was pretty much same. Nothing changed. Except it being totally empty. And at the counter a much younger owner. 

Did he really travel back in time?

But he was all alone. Geto wasn't in the cafe. 

The owner looked at him, and ignored. 

“Um…” gojo said, trying to get the owner’s attention. 

“Yes…oh the blue eyed. What happened?” He asked concerned, the wrinkles under his eyes looked much softer. 

Clang-dong

Gojo looked behind the owner, his breath hitching as his eyes widened. 

It was geto suguru. 

The owner followed gojo’s eyes and welcomed geto in. 

“suguru…” his voice barely a whisper echoed through the entire cafe. 

Geto, who finally noticed, freezed a while, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Satoru?” Geto gulped, before awkward tugging his hands back in his pockets, unwillingly walking up to him and sitting down at the seat opposite to him. “The regular…” geto ordered, before turning his head back to gojo. 

“Why are you here?” Geto asked directly. 

“I…uh I was just passing by.” He lied. 

Geto leaned back in his seat, his eyes unreadable. 

Gojo sucked in a breath. What is he doing? This isn't why he was here. He wanted to talk. But he couldn't find his words again. He gulped thickly ready to blurt any incoherent talk at him. 

Gojo didn't think anymore. He didn't cared about words any more, he just wanted to have one last conversation. 

“just why?” Geto hissed, “why did you come back?” 

He knew?

“I…ah..”

“Satoru you can't expect me not to know when you're sitting here in this seat.” He blurted frustratingly, bringing his thumb and index to massage his temples. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he met his eyes with geto, saying nothing for a while. The owner brought and placed geto’s pumpkin spice on the table, whisking himself away to the kitchen to leave both of them alone. 

“Drink.” Geto ordered. 

“What?” 

“Drink the coffee, you moron!” He let his head fall in his palms, before groaning. 

Gojo sipped the bitter coffee a bit, placing the cup back down to the saucer. It was still warm. 

“Why are you so infuriated—” 

“How can I not satoru? You know you're being mean. Why must you do so? Just sip the entire coffee and go back.”

“No!” he protested, maybe first time being so vulnerable to someone but he didn't care. “No, I want to talk to you!” 

“satoru ple—” 

“Suguru, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being with you when I should've been there. Sorry I turned a blind eye to you. Sorry for neglecting you. I told myself I was the strongest…but no I'm not. You asked me if I'm the strongest because I'm satoru gojo or I'm satoru gojo because I'm the strongest…let me answer you,” he took in a deep breath before continuing, “I'm not the strongest suguru. I'm not. I was the strongest— because of you. Because you were with me. Because we were the strongest, suguru. I'm the worst friend ever. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I couldn't stop you that day. I wanted to, desperately. I wanted you to stop and not leave me behind alone. I wanted you to think of me suguru. But I couldn't say that.” 

The cafe was silent. So was geto. He never expected gojo to burst out like this. 

“So…do I die or what?” Geto laughed at gojo’s face twisting into horror. “So I do die.” 

“How can you laugh?” Gojo asked him as geto pointed him to sip on the coffee, which he did. 

“I'm laughing at how messed up you look without me…did you have a hard time?” gojo doesn't answer him trying to calm himself down. 

“Listen bummer, you don't have to feel guilty. I chose this path on my own. And I don't regret it, even if I die. Just take care of your shit.” geto sighed, “though I'm skeptical about the one who unalives me…bet it’d be you—” geto halts mid sentence.

Gojo felt something wet in his face, afraid, he brought his hands up to his face, wiping it only to find his tears. Great, he just cried infront of him. 

Geto gulped thickly, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry,” he bit his lips before continuing. “atleast you could do is curse me a little at the very end.” 

Geto’s words made him cry even harder. He didn't try to stop him though.

“satoru, please don't be mean to me, gulp the entire coffee and go back before it gets cold. You wouldn't want me to go into another depressive slump will ya’.” he forwarded his hand hesitatingly, wrapping around gojo’s. He knew the rules of this cafe, and he didn't wanted satoru to stay any longer, considering the bigger threat that looped at gojo’s neck. He didn't wanted the coffee to get cold and gojo to be stuck forever in the time loop becoming the next ghost to haunt the seat. 

“Drink it for me, will ya’.” he said in the most sweetest voice gojo will ever hear again and wiping his tears with the other hand he forwarded the cup to gojo. 

Unwillingly, gojo gulps the bitter coffee, not caring for the aftertaste, his time would end soon. He grips suguru’s hand even tighter. He didn't tell him about kenjaku or the mistakes he'd made, but at least he didn't regretted anymore. 

“Be safe and healthy for me.” Suguru’s words echoed through his ears as he lost his sensations in his body, as if floating upwards. geto's grip on gojo's hand wavered as if he's holding onto air. 

He will not regret anymore. 

“I love you.” he shouted, uncertain, if his voice would reach to geto or not. But he did shout. And geto smiled. He smiled as sweetly as the ocean smiles to those who willingly drown. He muttered something to gojo which wasn't audible to him. And before he knew he opened his eyes in the present again. 

You stood up straight from the counter, sighing in relief, before whisking yourself back to the kitchen. 

“I'm glad you came back safe.” said the owner.

“Yes. Yes thankyou.” He didn't knew but his cheeks still had those tear stains the owner chose to ignore. 

He didn't get to listen to suguru's last words but he didn't regretted anymore. 

“Move.” the lady in white commanded as gojo immediately stood up walking straight to the counter. 

“I'd like to pay.” 

“Yeah. But the pumpkin spice latte’s on the house.” 

“Sure.” Gojo smiled brightly, and for the first time in years he felt it wasn't a mask but a genuine smile. He'd soon catch up with geto.

“ So that will be 2700 yen.” 

“Here.” 

Clang-dong.

The lady in white sat on her seat and opened the novel again; the one titled The lovers.

© strawberrymochin 24 | please don't plagiarize my work |

[strawberrymochin]

Tell me why dafuk is most of my posts are being labelled as mature. Okay, I'm fine with smuts but why do you need to add a mature label to satosugu fluff/angst?? 😀🥲 Bish, i ghost Tumblr for a while and now it came back haunting me....🙂

[strawberrymochin]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠!

𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | ch 1 | ch 2 |

synopsis- Yoichi nagumo has always regarded the decision of sakamoto retiring from being an assassin— very blithe, he considered it was very indiscreet of him to leave all of a sudden for someone he claims he loved. After rion akao’s death and sakamoto’s retirement it was only him left in the JAA. Love? it’s humorous how he'd never understand sakamoto…..or this feeling of care and vulnerability. That's what he thought, until he met you.

series warnings- MDNI, extremely FLUFFY, nagumo gets HEADS over HEELS for reader, NAGUMO is so down in LOVE (wanna cry), baker!reader, ANGSTYYY, comfort, omg sakamoto and shin enjoy teasing nagumo, heisuke as our wingman, explicit SMUT, sloppy kisses, counter sex, unprotected p in v sex, nagumo's DICE, fingering, cunnilingus, wreaking orgasms, semi public(kinda), nagumo CRIES overwhelmed, reader ISN'T AWARE of nagumo’s profession, lots of lies, mentions of assassination exhibition arc, blood, nagumo is ready to tear the world apart for you, order members, omg so much more…. HAPPY ENDING.

w.c- ch 1- 2.7k | ch 2- ytc

trisha's mail- i am insufferable for characters who wear a baby face and kill mercilessly, thus I had to present my new man, my yoichi a fic, since tumblr doesn't has many, am I the only one who's hooked into sakadays?

🍡Ch 1🍡

Yoichi nagumo stood infront of the sakamoto stores, his back heavy with the compact case of his red tainted weapons. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his brown overcoat, surprisingly warm in contrast to his cold hands he scrubbed clean, washing away the splattered blood from his previous assassination.

His face held a smile. A smile so neat and so polite that it could only be defined as a boastful grin of a liar.

Shall he disguise himself? Maybe play a prank or two…he will be seeing one of his friends started out with, after so long— taro sakamoto.

Nagumo darted his eyes, taking full account of the store, which was small and surprisingly neat. It was a two storeyed building, nagumo criticized the open signboard hung in front of the glass entrance. He, then, scanned inside of the store, smile widening a bit when he found no human presence lingering around. How about he disguises as sakamoto himself, plus it'd be fun to see how his old friend reacts after his retirement.

Entering the store, disguised as sakamoto, he went behind the counter and took a seat he supposed sakamoto might take. Spread out on the counter was newspaper folded messily, a cranky cash register, and some small spreads of candy, snacks and other daily convenience necessities. He picked up on the newspaper pretending to read it as he picked up on the dull sound of approaching footsteps.

A guy with blonde hair, middle partition and some shaggy clothes entered, with a green apron and his name batch pinned over it. Shin was printed on it.

Nagumo noticed. ‘Shin asakura’ and he recognised. The esper guy Sakamoto worked with after leaving the order. He had also heard that Shin had too left being an assassin and joined being an assistant in this store. He searched for a red haired chinese girl, who is also said to have started here a few days ago.

Nagumo waited patiently, subsiding his giggles inside he darted his eyes again on the door seeing a girl enter lazily. Ahh lu shaotang— the other assistant, whose main job is to make pork buns.

He sat quietly pretending to read the newspaper.

It wasn't long until both of them started arguing, making Nagumo's dopamine rush through his veins. With a bang on the counter table, shin whined “sakamoto san, we have to fire this girl!” pointing an accusatory finger on his back over the girl with pink jacket, who didn't cared even a bit.

Nagumo contemplated a little what shall he say? Maybe behave a little out of it, it'd be fun to see both of their stupefied reactions.

“Now, now shin!” He said, “We don't say mean things like that here.” taking both of them by surprise, who aren't able to comprehend how come their boss all of a sudden became so chatty, and started questioning his sudden behaviour.

Its fun, nagumo thought. Why not enjoy it with more spice. “How rude.” He replied to their thread of questions. “I will kill you.”

And this was enough to gawk both of the assistants, enough to let their jaw wide open touching the floor, but before nagumo to have anymore of fun the door opened again and his friend entered, unphased by seeing his doppelganger infront of him.

Nagumo knew sakamoto realised it was him, but I'd be more fun to attack with a knife to shake up both of the assistants even more. But most of all he wanted to see, if sakamoto’s senses dulled over the span of 5 years.

Instantly he pulled out a knife and stuck it in the newspaper sakamoto picked up, which was disregarded by him a few minutes ago. Tearing the newspaper from the middle he saw sakamoto dodge the attack, before getting hold of a cutter, threatening his neck.

He was no less of a deal too, in a blink his gun stayed plastered to sakamoto's head, before sakamoto pulls back the cutter and draws the blade back in. “Long time no see, nagumo.” His glasses gleamed, as his face fat made his voice sound a little thicker than nagumo had heard years ago.

“I see you can still move, Sakamoto!” He said chirpy, before dismissing the disguise, shocking shin and lu. And it wasn't long for them to throw hands at him. Nagumo was right, sakamoto's senses haven't dulled but it has rusted a bit. He wondered how fast he would have thrown his body to the ground, back slammed on the floor and instead of a paper cutter, sakamoto's hand would have adorned his signature gun he never swapped out after graduating from JCC, if he had not retired already.

Who knew the legendary Hitman would chicken out of the game one day in the name of…..love?

And get this bulky. For once nagumo thought to slap his huge round belly to see if the fat ripples through.

After another thread of lies, he was bound on a chair by sakamoto's two assistants, it's not like he can't break apart the rope but he just didn't. “there’s a bounty on sakamoto's head. The reward is one billion yen.”

He explained, as his assistants refused to believe him, but their doubts were soon dispelled as soon as they took down the pizza assassin.

Nagumo only wanted to inform his friend about the bounty on his head. That's why he visited. Or that's what he was trying to tell himself. He didn't quite understand why he visited after so many years….after rion akao died, it was both of them. Nagumo thought since sakamoto is still there it'd be okay. But it wasn't long until he retired saying he fell in love. Sakamoto quitted the order, and eventually wiped his hands of assassination. Without even saying a goodbye. He married and had a child. And nagumo was left all alone. Though he never stopped smiling.

And after 5 years when he learned about the bounty on his friend’s head, he couldn't help but feel a bit odd. What an odd world of liars he lives in?

Akao said she would graduate with both of them. Yet, she didn't.

Sakamoto said he would be there till the end, yet he didn't.

“Why did both of you left me alone?” He wanted an answer, but he never asked. Knowing one isn't alive to answer and the other would just dismiss his question.

He disposed the body of the pizza assassin near the garbage disposal area. He smiled another gleeful smile, before taking out his fist from his coat pockets and rolled the small white dice on the road.

The dive stopped rolling. One dot. Nagumo chuckled. “I wouldn't consider it unlucky…” he said, before dismantling his compact of weapons as a curved blade of an arms length slipped right through his fingers, which ended up landing into the pizza assassin’s fourth and fifth rib.

A shriek of unpleasant screaming rose through the air, and intensified even more as nagumo twisted the blade with his index and thumb. Filthy red splattered over his silhouette, as if the strokes of a frizzy brush from someone who attempted to paint the crimson flowers of death. How sad he will have to pay for his laundry again.

After changing his clothes, which he always keeps a set of two at hand, he set out his foot towards home. He'd a call from the JAA headquarters, Tokyo to attend the next day. Ofcourse he wouldn't want to get any less of sleep.

He knew sakamoto won't kill anyone, and even though he wouldn't show it on his face, the reason sakamoto stopped killing cringes him. If anything love only brings in vulnerability, and loss of power.

And if anything he'd learned all these years being in assassination field, he knew that power is easy to gain than to hold on. He'd seen his friends gaining the very top before falling down from the peak. Except for sakamoto who chose to step down.

Nagumo’s smile lines faded a bit, expression grave, will he too oneday lose all of it? Nothing is certain in life, it flows and changes its direction like a river, ticks away with time and evolves into new colours with each season. However, ever since he joined the order his season of life has always been the same: the fall.

All the dried crinkly leaves fell off years ago, yet no tree has ever sprouted a lively green. The winter keeps snowing, covering the mud with its dusty white, but the spring never comes.

Nagumo kept walking without noticing where his feets were leading him, his head faced down and hands in his coat, eyes simply gazed over the red old tiles, the footpath, and the small black lines dividing each section. At moments of his trance, he felt someone bumping into him.

He would have normally walked away, without bothering to peer at the person, but for some reason he felt a tug on his right sleeve. The person was refusing to let go. A muscle ticked in his arm, ready on first instinct to throw a punch over the face, “excuse me?”

A girl's voice?

Nagumo's body soothed as he turned to take proper account of you. Your one hand was clasping over his coat’s fabric, whereas the other was fumbling the inside of her tote bag.

You take out a hello kitty bandaid and shove it towards him. Confused, Nagumo tilts his head, face has regained its merry rictus.

“Yes?”

“Your hand is bleeding…”

Nagumo's eyes widen a bit as he speculates his hand and then looks at the bright red stain on his coat. Another laundry. He looked at the cut between his fingers, which must have sliced through when he was pulling out the blades. “Is it?” He faked his astonishment.

“That seems to be deep…you should disinfect it right away. How did you get hurt?” You bat your innocent eyes at him, before taking a look at the compact case hanging on his back with the help of a strap looped over his body. Nagumo felt his mouth dry. Well umm how does he even phrase it properly…

“A technician? You carry tools in that?” Nagumo stared at you blankly, as his brain stopped processing his thoughts, “yes” a lie slipped off pretty easily from his mouth. It's easy and convenient to lie.

You bring Nagumo's hand gently, while applying the bandaid, looped perfectly over his cuts, when he doesn't make the move to accept the help. “You should take care of yourself.” You say frowning your brows a bit at him.

“Yeah I will. Thanks.”

You smile at him before turning and taking your leave. Whereas nagumo stayed glued to the spot, watching you disappear among crowds. He peered down his hand, the hello kitty doodles stared back at him. What just happened?

Ever since that incident nagumo has lost half a quarter of his sleep, astir for no reason. Could it be the pressure of the work and the mysterious massacre caused by slur— or could it be him drifting into a relentless void staring at the hello kitty band aid given by you which he, for some ridiculous reason, framed it.

Or it could be for the number of times he visited the same alley hoping to catch sight of your fuzzy white scarf and maybe a hello kitty bandaid to offer…

Why was he even doing that?

Has he gone crazy?

Well, probably he has.

Whatever he was, Nagumo had less time to criticize himself for his sleep schedule or find the reason of trigger to his insomnia. He was on a mission to execute— find the B-grade assassin, who is suspected to have hands knotted with slur— Edo Nakamura.

And surprisingly enough his last sightings were spotted in the same alley nagumo was granted to lay his eyes on your soft frame.

After collecting several pieces of information about Edo’s past from the mission handler, nagumo noted 3 facts about him.

Edo had a history with an illegal orphanage which was later burned down for certain unknown reasons.

His speciality was poisons. He was among the very few male students from the poison department of jcc. After graduation he joined the Tokyo quarters before vanishing into thin air right when the massacre started.

And lastly, he was said to have a sister.

And that specific sister runs her own bakery, which is also somewhere situated amidst the nooks and hooks of this alley.

Edo is suspected of treachery and might have caused the opening to the breaking of the Tokyo headquarters. And from what the papers suggests, it took less than a millisecond for nagumo to come to the conclusion that Edo might have visited his sister before his traces faded.

And that sister might lead to the advantage of revealing the pathway to slur’s so-called puppet ‘Edo’.

‘Little a lot’— was the name of the bakery….and it wasn't a hassle when just a few turns led to the vibrant blue of old summer sky drew him in.

Nagumo thought to himself, what'd this serene peace of blue would look like if he rather tainted it with splatters of chaotic blood.

What if the slow tendrils of this freshly baked bread had a hint of metallic, iron like pungency? His lips creaked as corners turn upwards in a gleaming smile. Shall he force edo’s sister to lure him in here and satisfy the itch of his palm?

‘Clang-dong'

A step echoed as he entered the bakery. It was quiet inside and the owner wasn't seen to be near.

Nagumo swallowed his chuckle. It'd be so fun to break this silent melody with wretched screams. Shall he hide? Oh it'd be very fine to kill them both wouldn't it? the brother and the sister, both? After all, they might feel lonely if one crossed the line of death but the other didn't. Wouldn't they?

‘Clang-dong’

“Oh, a customer! I'm sorry I wasn't around, what would you need si— hey aren't you the guy from the other day?”

“...huh?”

“Is your wound healed now?... don't you remember me? I'm the one who offered you a bandaid that day when—”

Nagumo interrupts, “are you the owner of this bakery?”

“Um yeah?...” You tilt your head in confusion at the black haired guy you met a few days ago. “Do you need something from here?”

“Uh…yeah anything baked you feel’d be the best.” Nagumo answers after a while. What was it supposed to mean? You were Edo’s…sister? The broad plan of executing double murders was long forgotten from his mind, replaced by a dull throb in his chest and ragged breaths.

You nodded your head slipping behind the counter and packing some of the freshly baked blueberry muffins from the oven into the takeout box. Your delicate fingers brushed back your strands of hair, before drawing out a paper bag to proceed with his order.

“That'd be 3,500 yen. I…uh.. packed you blueberry muffins.” You stated, a bit nervously as the huge man kept staring at you with blank eyes.

“...yeah. thanks.” Nagumo handed down the cash to the coin tray on the counter with one hand while the other took his unplanned pakage after shoving his wallet back to his pocket.

Your fingers brushed with his ever so slightly and the dull throb on his chest intensified. He felt delirious, dizzy and unorganised. What was wrong, wasn't he supposed to stop with his bullshit and rather execute his mission?

He didn't stop walking until he was out of the bakery. Or till the some sort of intensified throb on his chest calmed. Only then did he walk back in.

He'd straight go to work. Get the details about edo and—

“You forgot something, Sir?”

Silence.

“Uh…your name?” what the heck? Wasn't he about to ask about edo?

“Y/n. And yours?” You said, shades of faint red painting your cheeks. Your name was so beautiful, he thought.

“yoichi. Nagumo yoichi.”

Back on his way home, he repeated your name several times in several different tones and felt an unusual rush of fervor delight rushing through his veins, similar yet even more intense than when he kills on his missions.

Mission?

Wait? He didn't inquire anything about edo!!!

“What the heck is wrong with me?”

🍡If you want to be tagged, comment!

[strawberrymochin]

Random gaku doodle ♡ (guess where I messed up)

[strawberrymochin]

OMG, serious faced jinshi is making me tweak!!!

[strawberrymochin]

Thinking about organised!nanami who hates mess and things untidy and cluttered, somehow had been fucking you messy and nasty for hours. The bed creaking as he thrusts his dick into your warm, mushy and overflowing cunt, with the mix of both of your juices from previous orgasms, none of which tired nanami kento. His striped necktie held your hands bound, which he pinned above your head with one big palm, while the other teases your swollen clit, occasionally spanking you, reminding you how you shouldn't have messed with his office files in his study. After all you were being a bad girl, so stubborn messing around, you deserved a punishment, as such letting out lewd moans while he drills you in and out, your body needed to be marked as so was your bouncy ass, now red handprints imprinted from all the spanking.

Nanami slowed his pace, awfully, before letting out a long hum of satisfaction and pulling out his dick till only the tip remained inside you. You whine with disapproval, only to find him, looking down at you, just so feral. You've never seen him so smug, and dark at the same time, let alone his eyes scanned your entire body with a glassy gaze.

Seeing you lying in his bed, sheets of silk which are already drenched in cum, didn't help any. You felt him getting even more hard than he was, as a wild smile spread across his face before he drilled his cock up to the brim, making you roll your eyes.

"such a mess...."

© strawberrymochin 25

[strawberrymochin]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐝 ଳ⋆｡˚

Synopsis- On the night of the blood moon, you are offered as a sacrifice by the village chiefs to appease the enduring wrath of the sea god. As your fate unfolds, you find yourself transported to a mystical realm inhabited by enigmatic immortals and powerful deities. Stripped of your soul and surrounded by the unfamiliar, one particular immortal, named Gojo Satoru, challenges your perception of reality and leaves you questioning your very sanity.

Warnings- immortal au!, immortal!gojo x mortal fem!reader, mythology references, asian drama vibes, gojo is a jerk most of the time, the red string of fate, Mithridatism, fluff, heavy angst, suggestive, slowburn, mutual pining, hot geto, gojo again being a jerk, gojo getting dominated by our reader, toxic reader, poisons, blood, murders, forced proximity, no smut in this but reader kisses gojo and that specific scene is...just read it

Word count- 12.03k (trust me)

Trisha's mail- just read it, wrote continuously for hours, and i will edit it later not proofread so ignore the mistakes, happy reading

You have been awfully familiar with the ritual performed for appeasing the sea god— once in every five years, comes the great night of the blood moon. 

The night whose darkness swallows the world in its greedy sheen, so deep and thick that it even blows out one single burning flame of hope. The moon on that particular night, bathes itself in red, and an eerie bloom of fathomed anger peers down on the muddy coastal sands— the anger of the sea god. 

On that day, a young crane is to have her wings tied, thrown into the sea, sacrificed in hopes of hankering to cool the sea god's fury. As it has been sung by folks and danced on ropes, ancestors say only a bride can dimmen the rage of the sea god's soul. 

A crane symbolises a bride— a girl chosen from the shores of eighteen villages, whose beauty is serene; voice spins a melody; eyes speak truth and finger sway in delicacy. 

A girl chosen has her hands tied, eyes closed and in the tainted rage of the moon of the night, one drop of blood in the middle of the sea sweeps away a knight. The people who perform the ritual find themselves awake the next day and the bride sacrificed had no trace of her existence lay.

Though you never thought that one day I'd be you, bawling your eyes out, not wanting to give away your life to the cruel god who chose to turn a blind eye to his devotees, for a reason unknown. 

Why did the sea god have to be this cruel? Why does he have to gobble down so many lives? And even if he does, why does it have to be you?

His rage has already unfurled enough misfortune in your life, and now it was going to seize your life. What will happen when you will be sacrificed to the sea god? What will happen when your life will be thrown in his mercy and swallowed by the deep of the ocean? What will happen to your father whose only child is you, torn away from his dear embrace? 

The village chief among the 5 major coastal villages came forward near you and bent down to your level. You edge backwards, hands bound behind your back, and you keep scooting away till your back reaches the huge plum tree. It's faint scents of fresh and rotten plum trail near your nose. “It will be a noble sacrifice, young lady. You do not have long to live anyways.” he smiled at you with the most sickening polite expression you'd ever seen. “Mmfff” you resist try to speak past the barriers of fabric looping tight at your mouth. 

So what if I possess a weak body? Is my life not worth the same as your daughter? 

You wanted to spit these words out and you would have, if the fabric tied on your mouth weren't so tight that you could barely even muffle. 

He forwards a hand and clasps the collar of your thin robe, dragging you away from the tree. You try to protest, looking horrified, there must be something, some key to run away….

You hear the footsteps of other chiefs surrounding you. If only you didn't help that girl, you wouldn't have to face this. You should have listened to your father's words and shouldn't have stayed out long outside searching for medical herbs, which would heal his health. Especially on the day of the blood moon. 

And even if you did, you shouldn't have helped the girl run who was originally chosen to be sacrificed. But you just couldn't ignore her cries, her tear stained face, her pleading eyes asking for a chance to live, looking so similar to the blurred face of your mother in your memories who died during your childhood and which is why you helped her run. 

You wanted to feel the rush and the puff in your chest as you dared to help the girl who was about to be another victim of the cruel sea god. And when you did that you felt as if you snatched back your mother's life from fate— from the sea god. 

However, one of the guards followed her, and while helping her run home, you got caught instead. And now here you were pleading for your life, for your father who must be worried sick, eyes on the door waiting for your safe return.

A thin sheet of silk is tied around your eyes, one of the men securing the knot, before picking you up on his shoulders and making his way to the coast, where the sea meets the sand. 

Soon you will be drowned to death in the name of sacrifice. Is this where your life ends? 

You were never supposed to be a sea god's bride; The qualities needed to be chosen as a bride were far away from your hand. You owned a fragile body, sick since birth. You can't even manage lifting heavy weight, how are you supposed to carry the grace of a bride.

But aren't all these just a saying, all stupid beliefs of your dumb ancestors, to come up with such rituals pleasing a god? 

If they claim the frequent storms and death of their family members as the wrath of the sea god, and as per the saying, a bride should calm his wrath. Up until this date you're sure more than 100 brides are sacrificed— none satisfied the sea god. None.

And none of them came back. 

Because it was simple, that the god didn't care and the ritual didn't work. Or maybe it does work but all the god wants is blood and not love. All he wants is despair, cries and screams of hunger. 

The sea has been raging off season, destroying the crops, sweeping away families, causing deaths and even after praying to the gods for their protection what did they do? 

Nothing. 

At this point you even wonder if the sea god is even real or just a myth.

Whatever it was, you realised none of them could stop fate from seizing your life away. 

The guy who had you on his shoulders, threw your frail body into what felt like a flat round hollow structure— probably a boat. You muffle a cough at the jerk your body has to face, not even getting to ease the pain since your hands were tied.

The sound of the night thundering among the clouds, echoed through the vast coast. “So now we sail her away? The sea god won't be displeased finding her instead of the chosen bride? Won't he be angry?” 

One of the men questions their doings, unsure if sending you as the bride might fuel the god's rage even more. “She helped Akihiko to run, if the sea god is displeased, he must be happy to punish her himself.” 

Another loud thunder bolted among the clouds. If the gods do exist they seem angry, and the only subject of their anger for now seems to be you. 

One of the men came near the round boat and took your right palm, causing you to bite your tongue with a shriek as you felt him stabbing the middle of your palm with a knife and then dragging it near the tip of your ring finger.

Tears stain the silk wrapped around your eyes. Do they even sacrifice a bride or murder them? If you're meeting death today can it not be any less painful? 

You stilled for a while as you feel the man digging the knife among the tied bunch of fabrics binding your hands together and tearing them apart with its sharp blade. 

The crane's wings were not tied anymore. She could run. 

But before you make any action on running, or even removing the piece of silk blocking your vision, your body slips to the opposite of your boat—a high tide. 

You try to get the silk of your eyes or get off the boat so you could swim your way to the shore but it was useless. The more you tried the more harsh waves played with you. They mocked your every movement, salty water drenching your robes, and its splashing noises squeak out laughing at you. Probably laughing at how weak and helpless you are.

The water is even making the cut on your hand burn even with tingling pain. At this point you were nothing but devastated, you surely realise that you're far away from the shore, and even far from your home. All you prayed for was your boat not being in the middle of the sea. 

The movements stilled, the boat danced gently on the waves, you could feel the furious tides shifting into a sweet calm— the calm before the storm. 

You raise your hand up, feeling the fabric of silk tied around your eyes, fingers tracing it's knot on the back. Once your fingers find it, you pull one strand of it. The drenched silk stuck close to your wet skin as you peeled it off. 

You were about to open your eyes, but something told you not to, as if you were to open your eyes, you would see your world shift altogether. Nothing would ever be the same. 

But you weren't dead yet. Even though you realise that you've come really far from the shore, if you somehow make it up, somehow struggle and reach the shore you can make it back to your father. 

To your home. 

Your eyelids flutter open, pupils slowly adjust to the little amount of light, making your vision clear. 

You freeze. 

Something was behind you, or I'd be perfect to say something was looming above you, preying on your tiny body. Its huge shadow floated over the cool waters, shielding the only dim red of the moon.

Is this the sea god? The one you cursed so much for causing the death of your mother? The one whose bride you helped eloping?

Is he here to punish you for your deeds or to savour you as his sacrifice? Just like any other soul, each five years.

You dare to look behind your back. If today's the day you meet the serene of death, who has always caged your body till now, you decided to numb your emotions and face it. How long will you be a coward? How long will death haunt you?

There was a creature, its scales shiny, half emerged from water. Gulping down a gasp you raised your eyes up tracing the elongated body till it's silhouette contrasted a sharp dark under the bright red of the moon. 

Sapphire blue eyes peered down at, huge scaled head tilting ever so slowly. It was a dragon— a sea dragon. The scene was so terrifying and yet something about the dragon drew you in. It curled his head in a loop before the huge face was right inches near you, letting out a low growl. 

His warm breath grazed your skin, so fierce it blew a few wet locks of your hair. The only word your unconscious shouted was ‘run’ yet it was as if you were tranced, your body wouldn't move. There was something so not right with you, and if anything you had this unwanted urge of consoling the dragon, in your arms even if his head was solely 3 times bigger than your body.

His eyes— looked so, what do you even describe, lifeless? Such a huge creature of might, yet eyes were of an unusual drear.  

The dragon’s pupils slit at your figure as an unyielding force tugged at your right hand, forcing open the palm, trails of wet blood smearing itself on your fate lines. 

The dragon scrutinized your cut and all you could do was look at him, standing still, as if all of your senses were gobbled down by him the moment you looked into his dull blue eyes. 

The blood of the bride shall appease the god's soul, a mortal is to be honoured with a sempiternal stroll

You couldn't figure out where the words echoed from, there was no one in the middle of the sea except you and the blue eyed dragon. 

Was it him? 

In moment you could use any of your senses, the sea erupted in its violent desires and one high splash of the dragon's, tearing his way down the surface of water caused you to lose your balance and fall down the boat. 

You panic, fluttering your hands as desperately as possible. You thought before you won't run from death yet your actions caused you to question your resolve. 

The dragon spinned his long body in peculiar loops around you. Your erratic movements of panic weren't helping to save the small amount of oxygen still left in your lungs. 

With one last try you try to throw your body up the surface, yet all you see is more blood oozing out of your wound and the last bubbles of oxygen escaping in blobs of air.

Your mind grew foggy as eyes could barely make out the blur in the deep waters, your body losing its senses growing limp just like when you looked at the dragon's eyes, sinking down beneath the sea. And the last thing you could make out before losing your consciousness, was the same lifeless unearthly blue eyes. 

You open your eyes feeling a sharp tug at your hand— right hand to be specific. You sit up straight as the flashbacks of your desperate cries strike you. Weren't you drowning? How come— you looked around your surroundings, you were in the middle of a lake, on a pavilion. Several blue lotus blooming emitted some sort of strange sweet intoxicating smell. It was as if they were luring you, but if you drowned how come you can still breathe? Is this the immortal land? Are you in the afterlife? 

As you were chewing over your thoughts, you noticed something tugging at your right hand and when you brought a closer look to your hand it astonished you, for the wound which hurted so bad was healed without a scar, as if it was never there in the first place. 

You might as well think that all of it was nothing but a pretty terrifying fever dream. However, you knew better. The scar did vanish but it left a crimson thread tied around your ring finger. It was floating in the air, rippling as you move, dancing with all the grace, twisting and turning, but most importantly it was tugging at your ring finger.

It was meant to show you your direction to the sea god, the one with whom your soul was bound with yours, the moment you presented your blood to him— the moment you became the bride of the sea god. 

The thread kept pulling your finger to a direction wrapped in mist and the sweet smell of the sea petaled flower. You decided to follow it, now that you're already so far from your home you have no other choice but to comply with the current of the river of your fate. You stepped down the marble stairs of the pavilion, mist obscured the path, refraining your vision to even make out your surroundings. 

You look back to the pavilion and it was no longer there, the mist swallowed it in whole, if it were not for the glowing translucent thread of blood, you would have been lost as soon as you stepped down the pavilion. 

Will it take you to the sea god? 

Will seeing you calm his anger? You didn't have any answer to satisfy your curiosity, the fact that even thinking about the sea god makes the veins of your neck pop, your jaw tick surprises how on the entire Earth could you be chosen as his bride. 

You don't understand how long you were walking in the mist following the thread floating, elongating and contracting in mid air, showing the pathway of the unseen world beyond your eyes could ever do.

After walking for what seemed like a long time, the thread stilled, a slow burn of fire seemed to run through the string and became awfully straight.

The mist slowly cleared, and in front of you stood a huge dais, over there was a canopy, made from the mother of the pearl reflecting colours so serene, that made your pupils dilate. The canopy was draped with a red fabric, probably of delicate muslin, which allowed to make out the silhouette of the figure sitting in it.

The thread vanished behind the fabric, which only meant that the god who you are sacrificed to was sitting there, on his huge throne. 

Unconsciously, you step forward on your feet.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Raising your hand, you slowly part the veil of secrecy, peering inside, forgetting any poise or courtesy you ever possessed. 

Fingers halt midway, no more bunching the fabric to get a proper look, for what you saw inside shook you to the core. Is this the sea god?

A sharp pull on the back of your head, yanked you away from crossing any other borders of seclusion. “Ahhhh” you couldn't help but let out a shout at the grip on the roots of your hair. Someone was dragging you down miserably and when you tried to see who it was you could only make out the vague tresses of long white hair and robes of black.

The hand dragged you by your hair and threw you down the dais, violently till your body hit the cold marble floor and made you cough at its brutal force. 

Your chest heaved and burning pain on your head made you look up at the person who inflicted such discomfort. 

A man with long silvery hair stood infront of you, his figure was feets above you, hovering as his head peered down at you, expression neutral, while his eyes were veiled with a silk of midnight, robes of similar shadows, some gold streaks running around the edges. 

How did the man even saw you if his eyes were concealed to let the light of the world pass? 

“Another year of the blood moon has another crane caught.” an unfavorable voice laced through the heavy air, it's tone mocking straight up. 

You turn your head to the owner of the voice— a man in violet robes, dragons were finelly embroidered with threads of gold on the hem, his hair was tied up in a knot, upheld by a pin of gold with pearls dangling from it. 

He slowly came near you, before crouching down to your level and taking a few strands of your hair to raise to his nose smelling it. “ A favourable crane instead,” you don't like how it sounded, backing away as far as possible. 

Looking around the hall you are able to make out a few more people present in the same marble hall as of you, which was probably— no, surely the royal throne chamber of the sea god.

Another man in white and of similar age, to the violet one watched the scene unfold amusingly. Two others were standing a little bit far away from the man who yanked you by your hair. 

“Gojo, say what if I have this crane after 13 days, I'm sure you can keep this one aside for me,” the man in violet spoke, something so dark lacing through his intentions. He scoffed with derision, eyes feverishly measuring your each move. “Can't I, my dearest brother ren?”

“Sure brother shota, I wouldn't mind leaving out on this crane, though I must express my condolences on missing out on such a vicious beauty.” the man in White offered a smile of kind to his brother. 

Gojo, the midnight veiled man, stepped forward bowing his head down to both of them, ren and shota, who looked like royalty. 

“But before that,” ren came near you, his sime as polite as ever, “my dear crane, by chance had a proper look inside the canopy?” 

You gulp, the burning sensation of gojo dragging you down the dais by your hair pulsated even more with pain, “n—no” 

“My, are you sure you're not lying?” He bent down, one hand gently caressing your cheek, “i-it was dark.”  

“That's very good of a situation, our god prefers solitude,” he said, straightening himself up and signalling gojo with a nod. You look at him as he takes out a crystaled knife. 

What?

“No wait, don't kill me —please,”  before you could say any, gojo caught the crimson of your hand and severed the thread which connected your soul to the sea gods. 

The broken string burned with an intense blaze before vanishing away in thin air.

“What did you do?” you ask, horrified at what just happened— a red string of fate was never to be severed, that's what you've always heard but then how?

“Oh nothing young crane, breathe in calm, I will be waiting for you in my parlour.” With that said, shota marked his leave. Ren scrutinized you for a while before following shota out. 

Left in the throne chamber was you, gojo and two other men standing a bit far away. Both were dressed in shades similar to the silver haired.

“Capture the crane”, gojo’s voice erupted in a velvet tone, devoid of any emotions. You look at them bewildered as you try to run but it was useless, the other two men, one of striking pink hair and other of a raven caught you from both sides, “sorry little crane, didn't wanted to hurt ya’” the pink haired guy muttered before you lose your consciousness.

“Had a pleasant dream?” The pink haired guy asked, sweeping behind small strands of your hair, you wildly flinch as you dart around your eyes scanning the area. Your hands were tied and so were your legs, just like how the village chiefs tied you up, “why am I here?” You demand answers with a frustrated frown. The room was small and cramped and after all that you've gone through in the span of the last 24 hours you've decided you'd had enough. 

“What do you mean little crane?” Said the pink haired guy tilting his head in a confused manner.

“Y/n.” 

The boy looked confused for a while before baring a bunch of teeth in a silly grin, “Itadori Yuji.”

“That's your name?” 

“Yes it is what people address me as.”

“Okay whatever, mind telling me why am I here?” You grow more and more annoyed at your questions being ignored. 

“Little crane, you're the bride of the sea god, it is absolute of you being safe in our protection.” Yuji said with the same wide grin. 

“By protection you mean this? If you lack basic knowledge, I shall teach you this is called incarceration.” 

“Oh you can consider this being the only means for your protection” his answer made your head pulse with rage, “by imprisoning me? If I am the bride of the sea god shouldn't you let me see him, so that his wrath calms down.”

“Well, speak about wrath less, think about your precious life, if we let you roam outside, in such crucial time of coronation, you won't live longer than an hour or two.” He mentioned casual, straightening himself up and walking to the low table, to plop one carved flesh of fruity apple inside his mouth.

“What?” 

“The coronation…the sea god will be replaced soon.” He said gulping the apple before plopping another, “you know our sea god, have concealed himself for ages, ever since the moment he was crowned. The only ones who ever pay him a visit are his brothers, Prince Shota and Crown Prince Ren.” 

“The ones in white and violet robes?”

Yuji nodded his head, leaning one elbow on the low table, placing his head on it, and smiled as pure as a kid. “Since you mortals are even stupid than me, you won't stop sacrificing cranes and just like each blood year, a crane— you appeared.” 

“So the god my soul is tied to won't be the god anymore?” you ask bewildered, unable to fathom whether to be happy or sad.

“Yeah, it's not like you're tied to him anyway.” Yuji shrugged, causing you to frown at his words. “the bond has been severed by the crystal knife, so you're nothing but a useless mortal in the realm of immortals.” 

“Useless you say, so let me go home….my father will be worried for me, he's sick, I need—”

“Speak less, you mere mortal.” The black haired boy from before entered the room, sliding the fusuma doors shut. “Oh Fushiguro, have a bite, these are real delicacy, I didn't knew the zenin houses cultivate such fine produce.” 

“Could you speak any less too?”

“God! I still don't understand why you left the zenins to serve our bounded master.” Yuji huffed, picking up another piece of apple pointing it to you, “want some?” 

“master? Who's your master, the white haired one? Gojo?” Yuji nodded at you, lowering the piece of apple, “shall i feed you, we are not allowed to free you from thos—”

“Yuji please, let me go back home I need to see my fathe—” you beg desperately cutting him mid-sentence.

“Such an intelligent, vacuous crane, who even chose you to be a bride, don't you understand once you are sacrificed to the immortal realm you cannot go back to the mortal world without your soul?” Fushiguro groaned at you, shutting you from whining anymore. 

“Without a— soul?” You ask uneasily, what was that even supposed to mean, you were still alive how can a person without a soul be alive? “But I'm still alive…” 

“Just because you are in the realm of the immortals, you cannot go back nor leave this room considering the risk of you getting murdered, not until you become one of us— an immortal.” 

“So if I become an immortal I can return.” 

“No! How can you be even more dull witted than Itadori, you can leave this room, after that, go find any work to suit your pleasures and work till you earn another chance in life.”, Fushiguro finishes, rolling an eye at you. 

“I am not dull witted and just to let you know I had no intention of being around such immortal beings who aren't familiar with a shred of kindness, why pray to you then? And since it was my soul in the first place I have the right to ask, what happened to it.” 

Fushiguro raises a brow at you, “considering such fragile body, you sure have a tongue of fire,” Yuji laughs at his comments, “your soul was severed from you along with the string of fate, it will be kept in the house of the death god. Another reason for you to keep your voice down and accept whatever is going on.” said Fushiguro, looking outside the window at the moon, it's glow so illuminating, that the entire room was better off without the half burning wax candle on the low table. 

“The god of death?” 

“Suguru Geto, the god of death. He owns your soul for now and will be in account of it till the 13 days pass by.” Said Yuji, stretching himself. What an odd situation you found yourself in…will you ever be able to get back?

“But as you said, I am more or less useless to you, why not let me go?” This came out as a whisper, you were doubtful of anyone listening, however Fushiguro sighed, “you're right, but we aren't the one who gets to decide that, prince shota seemed to have taken a liking for you, once the coronation is fulfilled and our new sea god sits on the throne, you will be sent to his parlour.” 

“Will talking to prince shota can help get me out of here?” You ask hopefully, while Fushiguro’s eyes darkens, “if anything I would suggest you stay as far away as you can from that certain princeling” with that said he abruptly leaves the room, Yuji’s expression too grave, followed Megumi out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the bone gnawing silence as the moon light pours into the room, pooling itself into the tatamis, where you laid tied. 

They made it very clear it was unlikely for you to leave this realm, but if you no longer had any connections with the sea god, what's the problem returning your soul to the mortal realm? What could possibly be the reason behind the immortals stealing a mortal soul? And what could be the reason for the sudden coronation? 

Prince ren’s voice echo near your ears, causing you to flinch a little, his polite facade wasn't entirely able to conceal the chill in his voice when he asked you if you got a glance at the sea god….and his sceptical eyes studying you even after his brother left. Probably he knew you lied to him, he knew that you saw the sea god and what you saw was sure to make you question your eyes, but then it was not much of a topic to think about. 

What could be certainly odd about a sea god that looked half your age? 

You don't know what to assume, Fushiguro mentioned the only people to meet him are— Prince Ren and Prince shota, his brothers. So it means they belong from the same family, the same blood runs in their veins, then what could be the reason to crown such a young boy who looked barely ten years of age? 

The sea god wore a mask to his face— a dragon mask. Similar to the one dragon who drowned you into this realm. He was dressed in bright blue robes with delicate threads of embroidered lotus, dragons and clouds sewn perfectly to match his unearthly young presence. The mask on his face was painted in an expression of slumber, as if a dragon sleeping and— 

But this is not the time to reminisce about the sea god’s attire, not to mention just a few days to go, when the young boy would no longer bear such a heavy title, for his age. 

Suguru geto, the death god was the one to possess your soul, and if only you could go to his house, it would benefit you to steal your soul back from them, but your hands are tied and so are your legs. 

You dart your eyes around the room, there must be something, anything, any sharp— you glance at the plate of crisp apples, cut in beautiful shapes and placed over one another in a decorative way, next to it layed a small fruit knife, sharp enough to cut past the fabric bound around your wrists and feets. 

Awkwardly you struggled near the low table in your restricted position, wriggling and squirming, close enough for you to grab the knife with your mouth. 

Seizing the knife with your mouth you let it fall beside you, as you reposition yourself in order to pick it up with your tied palms and cut through the fabric. After what seemed for such a long time, is when you feel the fabric loosening up and finally letting your hands free of restriction. 

You immediately massage your wrists and get down in the work of freeing your legs, once you get done with it, you peer out of the window. 

It seemed like you were in the second floor of a wooden pagoda, surrounded by a lake and small connected pavilions to make commuting easy, the problem was sneaking outside the pagoda seemed enough with risks if not getting caught by anyone of them, considering how busy it was even at what seemed like already midnight?

You let yourself calm down, all you need is to sneak out of this specific pavilion, you can trick immortals asking for the god of death, right? Except they would recognise you as a mortal instantly. Still you couldn't seem to keep your feet in this pavilion, you wanted your freedom back, you wanted your soul back. 

Sliding the doors very softly you speculate the corridor which seemed empty for now, you waited a while to finally set a foot outside, for now your plan is to just somehow or the other make your escape from this pavilion. 

Your heart thumped like drums in your chest, when was the last time you ever showed this defiance, you don't remember. This was probably the first time. 

You took a few steps out in the corridor, when a hand clamped around your lower face, the movement was so fast that you could barely sense anything, rather think any. Its iron grip forced you backwards, till you noticed you were back into the small room, and the sharp sound of doors shutting closed behind you. 

You laid stricken to the tatami floors, the hand still locked around your jaw and a huge figure hovering over you. 

Gojo. 

His Silver long hair pooled on the floor as he supported his body with one hand while pressing you down from any movement with the other. He snuck his veiled face near you, “Don’t. Even. Try.” 

“Mfffff” you tried shouting yet nothing came past your clamped mouth except pressed muffles. You were just so, so close yet he has to come right on time to snatch that one ray of hope from you. 

You protested, trying to thrash out of his grip, yet your body moved none, and the more stronger the grip of his hands became that at one point you felt he would crash your head right on the floor staining the tatami red. 

Were you scared? Yes. 

The man, supposedly named gojo, still had his eyes veiled on the very midnight sash you'd seen before, yet you felt like it was staring at your soul. Not liking the feeling, you pressed down your nails into his skin scratching it down till drops of blood start oozing out. Yet he didn't move an inch. 

You throw a hand at his face trying to make another desperate move of your leave, pulling the veil down, till it unloops entirely, falling down on the floor, along with your hand. 

You stilled, your movements stilled, he stilled. 

His eyes sparkled in a distant bright, hollow black that makes you shiver in fright. His pupils were black, entirely black, glassy and vacant. It was as if you weren't staring into a man’s eyes, but rather a void of such murky iniquity, that even the night of the new moon might turn out being shades lighter than his sinful eyes. 

Gulping hard, unable to breathe, you tap two times on his hand, whose grip he loosened further, he stared blankly at you, with no expression on his face, it was as if he was a statue himself, hollow from inside, even more dead than a dead plant in the hot of a desert.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to tear your eyes away from him nor move your body in anyway. Your eyes started burning, tears brimming up your eyes at the sheer amount of fear you're experiencing. But you didn't want to cry, you just didn't want to show that you were afraid— Afraid of him. 

He yanked you by your hair before, slammed you on the floor, most importantly he hurted you. And you wanted to do the same, even when you were scared of him. 

Near your hand, layed the fruit knife perfectly in reach for you to grip, and you do so. You grab the knife and aim to stab it right at his neck. And you do so. You stab right at his neck yet the knife would pierce through his skin. You noticed a subtle space which prevents the knife from touching his skin. So was the case with his hand, which wasn't directly touching your face now, it was a slight space of void pressing you down on the floor. 

You looked at gojo, staring at you with the same face without any sarcasm or humour, as if he felt finding your little attempts to escape humourous was not even worth mocking. You felt even more shame and embarrassment creeped up your face. 

“Master!” Yuji's voice rammed through the room. Gojo’s hollow pupil moves to the side, before he gets off you, finally letting you out of his grip, before grabbing the piece of midnight silk and looping around his eyes again. 

You cough and back away to the corner of the room, the knife still in your hands. 

Yuji threw a concerned look over you, fushiguro was standing behind, face unreadable. Gojo turned over to them, “tie her up well and make sure there aren't any weapons near her to help her escape” 

The boys nodded at the white haired man who was about to take his leave, “wait! Gojo!” You shout, causing him to stop his movements. He turned back facing your frail body. His eyes were covered behind the fabric, still he faced you as if he could see you right through the fabric, or maybe he did see you right through his fabric. 

Maybe you're forgetting that all of the persons present in this room are immortals, except you, they are sure to possess some otherworldly power. 

“I want to see the god of death. Please take me to him, I give you my word I won't try to escape. Please.” You demand, eyes pleading even if you didn't like the idea of begging to this certain guy. 

And yet. You did. 

Gojo remained still for sometime, before turning his back and leaving you alone with the other two boys, not faltering the vacant facade. 

What? You swear you'd kill this guy, if he were any near, and if there wasn't such a power difference between you two. 

“Listen, little crane, your demand is far away to be fulfilled.” Said Yuji coming near you, a rope forming in between his hands as a he makes a certain gesture, probably his magic. “Why? All I want is to see the god of death—” 

“You dull-witted crane, that's not possible.” Fushiguro taunts you, massaging his temple with two fingers. 

“My name is y/n and I'm not a crane. I am a human and yes a mortal, and I want my soul. If I serve no purpose to your god now or in near future why not serve my demands. I am unable to understand why I have to remain as a captive of you. And why can't I see the god of death?” 

Yuji sighs, “its not as easy as you think, it would have been possible for you to meet the god of death, if the friendly bond between master and him wouldn't have been severed.” He stated blandly, winding the rope around your wrists. Fushiguro gets annoyed at yuji reciprocating your answers and leaves the room. 

Not paying any heed to his exiting figure, you ask “why? Why happened between them?” 

“Hmm?” Yuji hums at your questions, before making up a troublesome expression, “well a lot happened at once. You see, our master and the god of death suguru geto were quite good friends but since the last few years nothing has been the same. I don't know the details, but the news was in the air that it was in regard of the sea god.” 

“The sea god?” You ask, the fact that hollow guy you faced right now, was capable of being in a friendship was strange enough for you to twist your face, especially with the god of death. 

“Yeah, and then they had a huge fight, in which a very dear friend of suguru got hurt, since then both of them aren't on speaking terms.” Yuji stopped looping the rope around your wrists, about to bound them in a knot again, when you distract him with another question, “why? Why did they fight over the sea god?” 

“You see, the god of death is severely against the reign of our current sea god. He has always made a strong opposition to the sea god's decisions, even though the crown binds all of us to the words of the sea god. This also counted as another reason for the passing down the crown to Prince Ren.” You clasp Yuji's hands, pressing them a bit and he grows a bit flustered, if the only person who can get you out of here was Yuji Itadori, who seemed too innocent and kind. Never have you ever thought of using someone’s kindness to your favour, but when even gods were selfish who were you to walk on a path of morals. 

“Yuji, please I promise I will not escape, please take me to the god of death,” Yuji backs away, freeing his hands from your grip, shaking one palm at you, “that's not possibl—”

“Please Yuji, you're the only one I can trust. Help me, just let me go once to see the god of death, I swear I will not run.” You assure him with pleading eyes, nearing him till you get hold of his hands again. “Please.” 

“Little crane, I am not allowed to let you leave this pagoda…” his stubbornness to his higher ranks made you leave any hope you had for seeing the god of death when, “but I wasn't instructed on helping you or not.” he tilted his head in a fond way and frowned his eyebrows with a sad smile on his face.

“Huh?” 

“Maybe it's best to retrieve your soul back, no matter what. You must retrieve your soul back, and return to the mortal world as fast as you can. So I guess I will help you run to the house of death god, but beware of the wolves, you won't want them catching you on the way.” Yuji said, unlooping the rope off your wrists before snapping his fingers to dispel his magic. 

“Thank you, thank you so much Yuji!” You expressed your gratitude, to the pink haired, feeling sad he had to serve such a severe hollow master. 

“Now listen to me very carefully, I will kiss your forehead with my magic, it will conceal you from the other prying eyes for a few moments of time, say about and hour or so,” he stops whispering and walks near the door making sure fushiguro isn't present near. Being sure he walks back to you and continues, “during that one hour of your concealment, you must leave the Tsubaki pagoda and at least be about a mile or two away from the entrance gate.” 

You nod trying to process all the information together, Yuji was dumping on you, “and while you do that, you must make sure not to cross or be any near master gojo, stay as far away as possible. He can sense reeks of my magic and my concealment is very feeble in his eyes, he would recognise you in a second so do not ever cross paths with him.” You nod at yuji, your heart thumping as if you were about to face a war, and the way his voice had the serious hint in it, you were sure that running into gojo would be the last thing you want in the entire world.

“As soon as I conceal you run from here, no one will be able to see you, take the left corridor and search for the nearest stairs leading to the floor underneath. Find the door with a huge old camellia flower carved on to its body, that's the back door…you will take the way to the left pavilion and not stop running, still you cross all three of them and exit the main entrance. Remember even if you exit the entrance don't stop running, run as far as you can. And if you see any group of people with designs of wolves embroidered, do not linger around them, ask the commoner to show you the path to the house of death god and they will.” He shuffles his one hand inside the sleeve of his robes, and takes out a thread of gold coins, shoving them to you. 

“Give them these for payment and you will be just fine, insist them to drop you near instead, it's dangerous roaming alone. When you meet suguru geto, beg him for your life, he won't agree to give your soul back right away so crack a deal with him, offer him something precious to you and he's sure to help. If he insists having your soul till the coronation let him be but ask him to hide you in his house till the thirteenth day, and once you have your soul back pray to him to send you back.” 

“And he will?” 

“Probably. Keep praying till he agrees, no matter what he is still a god, if you devote yourself to him with pure heart he is bound to comply.” Yuji explains, dragging you near the door, one hand cupping your cheek gently. 

you never had a brother, which always made you wonder how it feels to have one. Now you might have an answer to this. Yuji brings his lips to your forehead. “Run as far as possible, little crane” he whispered before pressing his lips to your forehead. A tingling sensation coursed through your veins and the moment you open your eyes, Yuji rushes you out of the room. 

You run.

You ran and ran and ran. Two times nearing the failure of Yuji's concealment, when you passed near fushiguro but he was busy in conversation with a official in fancy robes. And the second time when you were about ten fleeting steps near gojo. But you ran. You somehow ran. And you're pretty sure you're miles away from the pagoda, which Yuji mentioned as Tsubaki pagoda— domain of gojo. 

Your chest was heaving, throat itching of thirst, and your knees were shaking from running so long. The place where you were in currently resembled a busy market in the immortal realm, yet you could barely find people as it was still very early in the morning. 

You didn't sleep for an entire night, the thread of gold coins Yuji gave you jingled heavy in the small coin purse which belonged to your mom as you walked around finding a place to sit. 

Retiring yourself under a big osmanthus, you let out a breath, reflecting what you went through just in the past few hours, which now had been a day and a half you'd say to be exact. 

You sit up straight, noticing something weird. Ever since childhood you couldn't run a mile distance without coughing or gasping for a bunch of oxygen which seemed to be slipping from your lungs. Yet, you ran continuously for an hour and probably more than that, and nothing really happened?

The thing just didn't sit right with you. But it was useless finding this thing odd, which could probably be one of the perks of Yuji's magic. 

You huff out another breath leaning your back on to the bulk of its massive trunk. Breathing in the trails of its honeyed sweetness, with delicate hints of sun warmed peaches and somewhat complex undertone of the scene of rope apricots dancing in between— you gulp, trying to ease your thirst. 

The smell of osmanthus relieved you, reminding you of your sweet home, where your mother once cradled you, where your father taught you how to walk. Feeling nostalgic and worry seeping in your thoughts of your father's health, you look up not wanting to cry. 

You squint your eyes as you see a silhouette of something, deliberately peering down with curious eyes. You shriek of horror as you realise it was a figure of a girl, hurrying away from the osmanthus. 

Sensing your panic, whatever the thing it was, landed on the group with a smooth jump— a girl....who seemed kind of human.

“Umm—” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Shouldn't I be the one asking you this as you were hanging on the branch of the tree like a dead corpse?” You burst out, trying to calm down your pacing heartbeat. 

“Dead? Aren't you dead too?” She said in a tone which caused a gush of familiarity, where have you heard it before?

“I am not,” you say, the girl who looked awfully cheerful, came near you, “do you need my help standing up?” She forwarded a hand which you refused to take. “No.” You said standing up on your own and dusting your clothes. 

“You smell….very…very mortal.” She commented, pouting at you causing you to gulp, she realises the smell yet not able to distinguish you, “is that so? Do you want something?” You try to change the topic, unwilling to discuss any about your mortality.

“No. Nothing. Just curious about something heavy jingling on that very beautiful coin purse of yours.” 

Oh. 

“Well, I will be very happy to give you some if you do me a favour.” She jumped at you with curious eyes of excitement, “what favour? Yes I will.” 

“umm..I would like to visit the…god of death, do you know where his house must be?” You ask not wanting to sound too obvious, afterall what business might a commoner would have with the god of death.

The girl nodded without any further questions and gestured to you to follow her, by now you forgot about your thirst and not wanting to lose track of her, you followed close by. 

The girl left with some coins of gold leaving you at the doors of the huge palace which is known as the house of death. You sneaked in, through the gates, feeling no less of a thief, the palace guards were not present near the gate so you didn't have anyone to take permission from, which was to your advantage. You wouldn't want to spread the news of your escape. 

After crossing two huge shrine-like gates, you enter a palace finding no guards there too. Following an elongated corridor you check the entire floor before taking the steps to the upper floors. 

Even after checking the entire palace you found no one. Did the girl trick you? And now you ended up in an abandoned palace, with no surety of— 

“Any problems, young mortal?” 

You flinched at the voice behind you, a man stood behind you, tall enough to hover over you, somewhat near gojo, you could see hints of black yukata with some gold robes. Under the chilling intensity of his gaze, you slowly turn back to face him. 

He was awfully beautiful, to be termed as the feared god of death. Black streaks of hair falling down while half of them were tied in a knot, his eyes held a curved sinister gaze as lips twisted in another pout. “Tell what mortal, you come in my house, take a look at each and every corner in here and when I decide to appear in front of you, you freeze?” 

“God of death?” You ask, even though every single hair on your body knew whose presence you were under. 

“Yes, I am the god of death, Suguru geto.” He said before letting out a chuckle “What demand do you have? You want your soul back?” 

“Yes! Please give me back my soul, I wish to return to my world, please I beg you—” 

Geto lets out a laugh before coming extremely close to you, till your back hits the wall and he is hovering over you, face inching closer each moment, “and why shall I? If satoru gojo expects me to return your soul, I must make it clear, poor thing. I. will. not.” he says, tucking his index finger beneath your chin plopping your head up to face him. 

Tears brim down from your eyes, “what does it have to do with gojo? I came here to expect help from a god, a god who is expected to help his devotees. And if you don't know what the sacred relation between a god and a devotee is, you should know better to leave your position.” 

His face twisted in mockery, the index beneath your chin slid down to grab your throat, hand tightening around it, strangling you, making it difficult to breathe. “You sure have a lot to say, but my dear crane, you should think properly, what sacred relation? I am the God of death. I am to be feared not to be prayed. I am not to be worshipped, but to be dreaded.”

“Isn't death the start of a new life?” You choke your words out, “doesn't that mark you not only as the god of death but the god of life?” 

“You speak too much mortal…the god of life is the sea god, who has ignored all of your pleas of help for decades, he trampled down on all of your cries and you expect me to—” you can barely make out what he was saying, your mind was growing dizzy and your body was going limp. Yuji’s voice echoed from the back of your mind. ‘crack a deal with him’ he said. 

“I will give you anything you want, return me back to my world, to my father.” Your voice came out in a choked whisper, geto stared at you for a while, before loosening his grip on your throat, “too late, I expect another visitor.” 

You look behind geto to see prince ren staring at both of you with unreadable eyes, his calm demeanor sent chills to your spine, “did I interrupt your fun with the mortal crane?” He asked, his voice was nothing other than composed, “what if my answer is a ‘yes’...” 

“Guess I will have to apologise, however the crane is already decided to be taken under my brother, so—” geto interrupts him mid-sentence. “Oh don't worry, I'm not interested in hunting cranes from the very beginning, crown prince ren.” 

“Ah, I guess then we can leave her out of the conversation.” Prince ren's face displayed a polite smile as geto skims his fingers to your forehead head, rendering you unconscious. 

The next you opened your eyes, you found yourself tucked in a bed, mattress filled with what seemed very soft cotton, the room you were in seemed different than the rooms of the house of death, shifting yourself out of the feathers you walk up to the door, feeling uneasy about opening it or not. You had no idea where exactly you were in or who might be waiting outside this room— the death god? Prince Ren? Or gojo?

You could hear something going on, as if an interrogation, “I am the one responsible.” 

A chill runs down your spine, you slowly part the doors creating a small gap enough for you to peek in. You see prince ren moving in circles and the one standing still was— gojo. 

You were back in the Tsubaki pagoda. Cursing yourself mentally, you feel your hands getting clammy, all of the hard work for nothing? You traveled so far to retrieve your soul from geto suguru yet—

“So you're telling me you're the one responsible and she ran away without receiving any help from your subordinates?” Prince Ren asked him as he stood silent. His face was still the same expression, vacant. 

“Might be so when you render yourself responsible. Must take the responsibility. Grab the knife near and stab right through your hand” 

What?

The prince said it so casually as if it meant nothing and you could only widen your eyes when Gojo took a knife and stabbed it right through his palm. 

You gasped, trying to calm down your breathing, the sharp blade was still stuck in his palm as blood slowly trickled down tainting the tatamis. 

Unable to see anymore, you shut the door and return back to the bed. Your hands were shaking, whatever you saw you no longer understood what you felt, because why would you feel such extravagant unfurling of excitement when gojo did stab right through his hand. Why would your hands shake of envy instead of fear, wishing you would have stabbed it instead of him. 

You try to shake off these thoughts from your mind. What the heck were you thinking anyway? Yes he did yanked you by your hair, seized your jaw and threw your fragile body to the floor, even ignored your pleas, but it doesn't mean he deserved that…right?

You had no answer. 

What troubled you even more is his expressionless face, who didn't even display a hint of pain at such a brutal attack, inflicted by himself. What exactly was wrong with him?

You decided to care less. What mattered more is the movement of the doors which opened to reveal prince ren. He entered the room with his calm demeanor, and polite expression. 

You cannot fathom how he was the same person who made gojo stab his hand in just one order. 

“You're awake.” He said nearing your bed, and dismissed your effort of standing up with a hand gesture. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yes, I do prince ren.” You bow your head, “that's great, I was quite worried for you,..” 

“Worried? Excuse my words but why must the crown prince worry for me?” 

“I just happened to make an observation,” he settled on a chair near your bed, picking up some freshly cut pears and passing it to you, wanting you to have it. Not wanting to refuse the prince you comply with his desires, “that your body is quite frail, how long have you been practicing it?” 

“Huh? Practicing? Practicing what, your highness?” 

“Mithridatism.” 

You still, no more chewing the fleshy fruit rather gulping it down, “ah…I apologise I don't get it.” 

“How long have you been poisoning yourself?” 

“Why would I poison myself?” 

“Oblivious. Aren't you? Your body reeks of strong poisons, these veins on your wrists, don't you think they are too blue, too noticeable? Since you seem to know nothing about this, it concludes your parents or specifically your father, the one you're so desperate to return back to— has been poisoning you little by little for years.” 

“You're sprawling nonsense…” the prince chuckled in amusement, particularly not minding the lack of your poise, “am I?” He picked up another piece of pear, going to the other corner of the room, where caged was a little swallow. The small bird innocently fed on some of it as the prince smiled, humming a tune which made you uneasy. 

“What exactly are you doing prince ren?” You couldn't help but question his actions. Whatever he was doing didn't feel right. “Hmm, just feeding a bird.” 

You watched him confused, a while later the bird fell off the perch, the little swallow was dead. “What?” You're breathing quickened as you realised what exactly the prince was implying. “I fed the same poison to you and this bird, yet you're still alive whereas the bird is not, do you know what that means? It means your body has been consuming poisons for so long that it has grown immune to it....” 

You swallowed thickly, unable to form any words, the prince came near you, “I wasn't sure so I decided I'd try experimenting.” 

“And what if you were wrong…what if..what if I died?” You ask, letting out a calculated breath, trying to process whatever truth about you were getting enlightened on. “Then I could have blamed your death on the enemies, plus who would care for a crane.” 

You still couldn't believe it, you didn't know why you agreed to the prince’s terms but you did. For you had no other choice, the prince promised you anything you want would be granted if you spy for him. All you wanted was to go back home to your father, but all this while he'd been poisoning you? You didn't know what to feel about it. You said you'd take time thinking about what you want after all the prince wants is for you to spy for him in the Tsubaki house, and report any interaction between prince shota and gojo. 

“Why prince shota? Isn't he your brother?” You questioned, when he chuckled at you, “brother by blood is a crack forged on a sword. I do not grant my trust simply…” 

“But you're trusting me to spy for you…” 

“Since you're bound to follow my orders. And I know you don't trust me nor I'd ask to. Only a fool would make such a mistake.”

“I'm not bound, I am meant to be taken in by your brother, and If I want I can reveal it all to him, about how you ask me to spy on him.” you hiss your defiance at him, which twists his court smile into one of satire.

“oh do you think you will be safe under his wing? Young crane, have not understood him yet, he's a hunter, all he wants to do with you is to green-gown you, and once it's done he will throw you away to get you used by his followers.”

You felt numb, confused and lost. It was too much for you to take and too much for you to grasp, unsure of what was happening around you. 

He even removed restrictions on you being held captive. you were free to move as long as you're inside the boundaries of the Tsubaki house. All you had to do is spy on each movement of gojo; let the other spies of prince ren in the Tsubaki house and report to him your observation. And in between all the 10 days you've spent in the Tsubaki house near gojo, Fushiguro and a guilty Yuji who has been avoiding you, nothing happened which needed serious report. 

It was the day of coronation, a three day function to celebrate by the immortals and vow their oath as a new king is crowned. You heard Fushiguro speaking to Yuji about how prince ren isn't going to start his reign with the blood crown passed down since generations, rather he ordered the forging of a new blood crown, which is why this coronation would be three days long. 

And as promised, after his coronation, the prince would grant you anything you want, but what would you ask? You had nothing to desire anymore. Except for your soul, and even if you have your soul you'd have to go back to the mortal realm— to a father who poisoned you. 

But staying is even worse, it'd question your chastity. 

The royal chamber swayed with immortals of high ranks and officials, you notice the other kins to the royal family—Princess nanako and najimi. You also spot the betrothed of prince ren, lady harumi. 

The god of death soon made his arrival and so did the god of wind and goddess of motherhood and even more, that you struggled remembering their titles. 

Prince Ren made sure it was perfect, and it was until— princess nanako, the eldest kin to the sea god clan, came forward, her hand glazed with the new blood crown, gold threads of pearls suspended to it. The former blood crown laid behind the canopy, on a low table, where the soon to be former sea god sat on his throne. Its silhouette is visible to all.

The new oaths were to be taken and the crown was soon to be adorned on the prince's mighty head— as long as he had a head. 

Prince shota twisted his sword, wrenching the guts of his kin, his eldest sister before drawing the sword back, her screaming figure fell to the floor, so did the new crown.

Everything was a mess, the crowd freaked out and when Ren came protesting with a sword ready to fight his kin, it was the god of death stabbing him right through his stomach. 

He betrayed prince ren— for prince shota. And the next you blink your eyes you see Ren's head cut off rolling on the marbled floor. 

You felt something wet on your face. These 10 days you've been convinced you couldn't feel anything yet when you raised your hand to wipe it off your face, expecting to see the splattered blood, you see your tears, spilling continuously from your eyes. 

Prince Ren was dead. And so was your only guarantor of your wish. Even though you couldn't trust him, prince shota is even more not to trust, now that you knew what his intentions with you were. 

You dart your head around, coming out of your daze, you need to run as fast as you can from this place or else you will be dead meat. Everyone was running here and there while some took the scene in amusement. The goddess of motherhood, who was supposed to be kind, glances at the scene, quietly sipping on her drink, not a single drop of motherly kindness glazed in her eyes. It was as if she was enjoying the indiscriminate slaughter. 

You shift your focus to fushiguro and Yuji, who seemed to help commoners get out of the high palace. Gojo was nowhere to be seen, you make your way to them when some commoners among the massacre take out their grudges, seeking this as their perfect chance to get away with a murder. 

Horrified you fall back, your robes are now tainted in red, you don't know how or from where, pushing past crowds of so called immortals, you find yourself in a secret chamber, where the figure of gojo, seemed to be in a daze. 

Bewildered, you grab a candelabrum, posing as a weapon to any threat he displays. Gojo, who seemed to have noticed your presence, didn't stand up, rather stayed stuck to his place. His long white hair fell from the top of his ribbon knot. The piece of midnight silk was discarded on the floor, “y/n…” he said.

Hearing your name from his mouth sounded unfamiliar to you. For a moment you found yourself contemplating if you heard it right, and then doubting he even knew your name. He turns his head at an angle, which allows him to side eye you as if he'd jump out right now, and the next thing you know is you'd be dead, “Don't you dare…” 

Gojo stills at your words, before asking “dare what y/n?” 

“Don’t come near me…” 

“....I understand. I won't. And I can't.” 

You frown even more. He just simply agreed? Something about him doesn't sit right with you. It just doesn't. Taking your surroundings properly you notice, he wasn't sitting on the chair, rather he was plopped perfectly bound to the chair, chains of metal wrapped around wrists and feets, securing him tight, unable to escape.

You swallow an unwanted bubble of laugh creeping past your lips. He, once ordered to enslave you, was here captured and chair to a mere chair. What a shame. 

Gathering more confidence than you needed you put the candelabrum down and search around the room until you find a perfect piece of dagger— to threaten him. 

You already have enough of it and it's not like days spent in this immortal realm made you any less crazy. “And who dared to bind you to this mere chair?

“Suguru.” face still devoid of any expression. 

“ahh I see, you kind of deserve this.” you mock, staring into the hollow eyes of the white haired, till you felt something so overpowering that you turned your head away. “Oh.” He said. 

“And you won't attempt running away?” You say grazing the tip of the dagger down his face to his neck, wondering if the space barrier would avoid the tip touching the skin but it didn't. “I am not allowed to…”

“And why so?” he didn't answer you for a few minutes, before you realise he doesn't want to answer you, when you press the tip of the dagger more firmly to his neck.

“.....a curse.” 

You tilt your head, amused, finding it hysterical. So the gojo satoru, head of the Tsubaki house, and the right hand of the dead crown prince all while bound to a mere curse, “what curse?” you interrogate further, unable to best yourself taking advantage of his situation.

“...a curse which binds me to words.” You pinch your brows together, at which he explains further, “of any person imposing those on me.” 

“So you won't be able to do anything unless someone tells you to…” he nods, “and by that you mean anyone?” He nodded, hesitation peeking his vacant face for the first time, exciting you even more. You still find it hard to look straight to his dark hollow eyes but the way knowing about his weakness courses energy through you, you find yourself mocking him, staring right at his eyes.

“even me?” You ask in a knowing tone, already guessing his answer at the delay of his response, “I'd count that as a yes.” It is fun. Why did you even come here in the first place, you didn't remember, but seeing him, satoru gojo weak, had you giggling inside your head. 

“So gojo, you know that I hate you…right? What do you feel about me?” you ask, bringing your mouth near his. 

“If you want an answer, I would like to reciprocate the same feeling of hatred, which you hold in account for me.” 

“And how would you feel, if the person you hate so much had you underneath…” you closed a bit more distance between you both, similar to the situation you'd been in before, when he hovered over you, limping your body to the floor. His eyes still had chills running down your spine yet you refused to look away. “I'd be humiliated.” 

“Is that so? How about you kiss the person you hate instead, that'd be even more humiliating, don't you think.” gojo doesn't answer you, rather slips his eyes down to your lips and gulps as you bring them even closer. You press the dagger in his neck, piercing his skin, yet he didn't seemed as alert as when you bring your other hand near his hair and yank his head. 

“Isn't this what you did to me? How does it feels?” 

Gojo doesn't answers you, bringing your head near, you open your mouth to ask again, when gojo tilts his head at you, as if begging to— you near his lips as he captures yours with a devouring kiss. 

His lips moved around yours, sucking the plump of your fleshes so feverishly, if you didn't knew better you'd think he has been secretly craving for you all this time, but you did know better, he was just disgusted by the fact that he was kissing you. And it humiliated him, the first expression you've ever seen in his face, as you find hits of crimson slowly spreading across his ears. 

His lashes brushed against your skin, and in order to humiliate him even more, you let go of the dagger, hands cupping his cheeks deepening the kiss. 

You slipped your tongue in his mouth, as gojo sucked on your sweet juices, the tingly sensation seemed to grow your brain mushy, when all of a sudden he pulled away. 

“What happened?” You blink innocently as you watch him coughing, and wheezing, soon followed by blood spilling out of his mouth, staining his robes. 

“Oh, I might have poisoned you…” you forgot you had the toxin of the crimson lily before on your way to the high palace. Or maybe you didn't. 

Gojo halts his coughing a bit as he looked up at you, he spits blood from his mouth, some dripping down his chin as a smirk spreads across his cheeks, causing you to take back your taunting smile. 

His dark pupils dilated, and if you weren't hallucinating, you might have seen his dark eyes break out in a colour of brilliant blue. 

“What vicious plan are you plotting against my heart y/n?” 

tags- @teddiiursulas-ink @jkslaugh97

[strawberrymochin]

GUESS WHO WROTE EFFING MORE THAN 6K WORDS and there's still more to write YESS! IM TALKING ABOUT A RANDOM IDEA WHICH GIT ME GOING, GUYS IM ALMOST FINISHED WITH THIS, BEHOLD IN THEATRES NOW IMMORTAL!GOJO X MORTAL FEM!READER, damm I swear you'd feel living a life in an asian mythological drama, trust me, we've got enemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, forced proximity and forbidden love, red string of fate and when I say enemies to lovers, I mean reader and gojo trying to kill each other. Gawdd!!! Imma drop this as soon as I'm done with it. Mood boards down here!!! So excited, also prof!nanami is coming up next don't kill me for this!! (EDIT- POSTED)

[strawberrymochin]

Hear me out, there's something so hot about geto, hair undone and messy under you, while you use the strap on to plow his tight ass, the strech so pleasurable that he cums even his with his dick untouched. The way his strands stick to his forehead, slick with sweat on his brow, and he moans and withers, his purple eyes glimmering with witchy hypnosis, as if tranced. Each thrust sends shivers, a few in a row draws another orgasm, white sticky liquid shooting out of the tip, splattering on his toned chest......

a/n- prof!nanami is on the way, I'm in the middle of my semesters so enjoy this drabble for now, so sorry 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

[strawberrymochin]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐚' 𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐬!

synopsis- dared by nobara, Yuji decides to pull a prank on their physics professor— gojo satoru, infamous for his wickedly handsome face and his notorious mouth. He spikes gojo’s coffee with a few pills of viagra, suppressing the jolts of illegal excitement bubbling up his veins— which soon dies when gojo offers the cup of coffee to you instead.

warnings- college!au, SMUT, physics professor gojo with huge d, you having a hopeless crush on gojo, nobamaki as your sidekick, age gap(6yrs), use of APHRODISIACS, oral male receiving, mutual masturbation, SQUIRTING, CHOKING, unprotected sex(sort of), VOYEURISM, I feel sorry for Yuji, cursing, dirty talk, some great latin words.

w.c- 4.8k

a/n's note- Yuji will always be remembered as my brave soldier! Next will be nanami in the series!! i hope you like it. comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! Taglist is open!

“Professor gojo is always a hot topic for the girls” nobara stated blandly to her senior maki, sitting opposite to her at their regular corner cafeteria table. 

Maki rolls her eyes at the statement, unable to pinpoint what exactly girls like about their professor. Even you— her best friend has an insatiable crush on him. She unwrapped her chicken cheese burger taking a huge bite before muffling “yeah, nothing new…”.

Gojo Satoru, your physics professor, has been a topic of constant gossip ever since he joined the university. He was surprisingly young, menacingly handsome and had a notorious way with his tongue. His carefree attitude and indelible impression caused students to mark him as the— infamous professor among the trio of young havocs. 

Girls swarmed around him sprawling new tattles each day. And another one that randomly popped out at the chatter page of your university was— professor gojo having an extremely high sex drive. 

An anon posted it in the forum and disappeared and it blew up overnight. People agreed over online, some simping, some getting disgusted or jealous(mainly boys), and some concocting new scandals having seen him going out with two different women in one day. 

Today was no different. The chatter forums have been buzzing with news and rumors and among them the trending one was professor gojo’s libido discussions. 

Nobara dragged her finger down the screen of her phone, refreshing the page hoping to see something new. “I can't believe they don't have any better discussions other than this.” Her disappointment was clearly visible as ‘gojolibido’ thingy still remained at its position on the top. 

she placed her phone down on the table, sipping up the last of her drink. 

Yuji leaned back in his armchair, his head resting against the cool metal frame, his body partially slouched. His crumpled paper wraps of sandwich sat messy on the table, “come to think of it, professor gojo never declines any of the stuff…” 

The college rumors spread like gasoline set ablaze. There was little to no chance of him not being aware of the sizzling situation. 

Maki dropped her half eaten burger, placing her elbows on the table top leaning in a bit. “He probably enjoys it.” 

And maybe he does. There are sure subtle hints. The slight curve of the corner of his lips when students gawk at him as he walks past them, hearing them fawning over him. Or the smug side eye he gives to his male students— almost satirical. Or the infamous way of his wicked tongue, it's as if he was mocking them. 

No one can say for sure. 

“If that's the case I'm sure he wouldn't mind some pranks too…” Yuji straightens up half joking. “What do you mean?” asks maki. 

“Like some pulling up a bold act…” he suggested, stretching his arms out before letting them fall on his thighs, rubbing his palms over the rough fabric.

“Woah!” Nobara almost jumped up in excitement, looking at Yuji as if he finally had some sense knocked in his head, “And here I thought Itadori never grew a brain,” she sprinted her head to maki who was gnawing on her burger. 

“How ‘bout we get y/n pull something on gojo sensei?” 

“Bruh—” maki leaned back in her seat, narrowing her eyes as a little smirk crawled up her face. 

You've had a crush on professor gojo. And this was no secret from your friend group. Plus they already had enough of you sighing dramatically at the mere sight of him. They can only wonder how you even manage to behave normal when you're assigned to help him sort out some paperwork after class. 

“This is gonna be awful. And fun to watch.” Maki turned her head to spot you in the cafeteria line, currently buying lunch for yuta and inumaki. 

They have a paper due the next day so they requested you to buy them lunch to save time. 

As you leave the cafeteria with lunch boxes in your hand, heading towards the classroom yuta and inumaki might be stressing over work, maki, nobara and Yuji join you. 

“Done buying the idiots lunch?” Maki came up wrapping a hand over your shoulder. “Woa— yeah! On my way delivering it as you can see…” 

“Sure thing.” Nobara said. 

“Well you know we're playing truth and dare.” Maki continues dragging out the ‘dare’ part. 

“Yeah lame shit…” 

“So, we’ve got a dare for you.” She announces outright. 

“Bitch i wasn't even playin—” 

“Yuji wants to pass his dare to you.” Yuji looked baffled at nobara, but decided to play along anyway. “Ah yeah y/n senior, can you please take the dare my stead.” 

Aww, you pitied the pink haired boy, one year junior than you. You nodded you head in sympathy, feeling sorry for what ridiculous of a dare maki and nobara might have imposed on him, not caring what they might impose on you. 

“It's really simple okay….” maki says comforting you with her grip on your shoulder. “You just need to go and pull up a bold act on professor gojo.” 

Your nodding halts as her word registers in your mind. You look up questionably at her with one eye twitching, face cringing.

“You want me to do what?” 

“Chill, I'm not asking you to get naked or edge play with him. Just a little flirting will do…” nobara nods aggressively at maki’s words, eyes sparkling to convince you. 

The lunch boxes stayed in your hand, before giving it away to the stressed duo who found it strange for maki, nobara and Yuji swarming around you, looking this excited considering your freaked out expression. You eventually agreed to them, unable to resist their sparkling eyes and it wouldn't be a lie to say you yourself were itching to try it out. 

You sort of had a head start when things came to professor gojo. Atleast that's what your friends thought, though you tried to convince yourself the opposite. You were just an average student. Not too good not too bad. 

It was a coincidence that he out of all the students ‘randomly’ chose you to sort out paperworks. 

You even wondered if he knew your name. Not once has he addressed you with your name from the previous two paperwork sessions. Not being able to ask, you decide for yourself that he doesn't. After all, why would he even try to remember you? Bet he doesn't even glance twice at your face. 

“Go!” Maki whispers at your ear, pushing you at your back, urging you. 

Professor Gojo was standing outside his office. A rare scene indeed, he seemed immersed in his phone screen typing something. 

You gulp once before looking back at your friends— whom you definitely cursed in your mind. Nobara pulled yuji’s collar down to her level, whispering something, which made him suppress his bubbling laugh. 

Your face twists bitterly, feeling a burn of anger, which soon dies as they push you off causing you to stumble mid corridor. 

Awkwardly you try regaining your balance as a string of curses slip past your mouth. You should have never agreed to this in the first place. Why did it matter anyway? You'd be graduating in a few months and will barely see the pink haired guy again. 

Gojo’s gaze shifts in your direction as you try to maintain a straight posture. Your best friend and the juniors hid themselves behind the small alcove, eavesdropping eagerly. 

“Yes?” Professor gojo stuffs his phone back in his pockets, one hand coming up to slide his rimmed sunglasses up his nose bridge. 

You suck in a sharp breath, suddenly aware of each hair in your body and every single sensation coursing through your body causing them to stand in attention. “Eh—”

Gojo eyes you up and down, a discreet smile tugging off his lips, as he comes forward closing the distance between you two. His towering body blocked the sun rays pooling over your body from the huge glass window. “Have a doubt about the previous lecture?” 

Maki and others sigh face palming themselves. Your frozen stance grows their doubt even stronger, questioning how you even manage to stay after class for the paper sorting sessions. 

“Yea— i mean I want to ask you something— ” you fiddled with your fingers, looking the other direction as gojo leans down to your level. A familiar embarrassing burn creeps up your cheeks, soon spreading up to your ears. 

“Um—” 

Gojo hums encouraging you to speak up, his sunglasses slipping down a bit as one sapphire eye peeks at you. 

You could feel maki and the other's gaze piercing through your back, suddenly wondering how come your professor hasn't noticed them gawking yet. 

Gojo looks at you expectantly. 

Okay, you've got this— you only need to pull a little bold stuff like flirting as nobara suggested. You can go with some pick up line, even related to physics for highlighting the pun intended, for example you can say ‘i know the spring constant of my mattress, wanna take some data?’

Okay, that was shit. What if you ask him to expand your polynomial? That's even more weird. 

“You oka—” 

“Cubitum eamus?” 

“ -what?” Gojo straightens up, scrunching his nose, resting one hand at his hip. 

Red spreads down to your collarbone, seemingly flushed yet relieved when gojo doesn't gets the hint. “Nothing.” You say before sprinting away downstairs, your friends following you down from the alcove. 

“Y/n wait-” maki huffs catching up to you, the juniors following behind huffed out. “What the heck did you say?” 

Her further inquiry made you even more flushed, eyes shutting as you take in another deep breath grabbing maki before shaking her by her shoulders. “I. Said. Nothing. You get it. NOTHING!!” 

Maki showed you a thumbs up, as Yuji halts your action, saving her spinning head from your ass. 

You calm yourself before making up and excuse and running away, still flustered, while the entire gang had no idea what the heck was wrong with you, coming to the conclusion that you were probably high. 

“Bruh what did she even say? A curse or something?” Nobara cracks up as Yuji was still trying to rescue maki from her brain shaken plight.

“I swear,” Yuji agrees holding a eye- spiralling maki from her arm, “i could have done better than her.”

“Better?” Nobara lends a hand to Yuji.

“Yeah…much better.” 

“Itadoriiii,” her eyes narrowed, a wicked grin blooming on her face, “I bet you're a man of your words.” 

And this is how Itadori Yuji, was dared-convinced that a he could ofcourse pull a better prank than his senior, such as spiking professor gojo’s coffee with aphrodisiacs. ‘i mean it wouldn't hurt to see him ache a bit.’— was what nobara had said yesterday. ‘We've got so many rumours about professor gojo atleast someone have to confirm them.’ she shrugged sliding the ziplock of crushed pills in his shirts pocket, before slamming on his back. 

Yuji checked once again at the front door of the office, his hands stirring the spoon on the hot coffee to let the powder dissolve. He somehow managed to sneak into gojo's office from the back door when professor geto called him out for a bit. The classes are over, and now would be the perfect time to get a look over the amusing scenario about to unfold. 

Yuji gets alert when he hears footsteps coming near, abandoning the cup before scurrying to the back door in order to slip out before anyone notices him. He intends to hide in the men's washroom before coming back near the back of the gojo’s office peeking from the small gap in the door he'd left open. 

As you enter professor gojo’s office with the bundle of written assignments the juniors had submitted, you see Yuji rushing out from the back door. 

Confused, you tilt your head. “What the heck was he doing here?” You mumble to yourself. The embarrassing moment of the last encounter you had with professor gojo flashed through your mind, face cringing red as you shook your head to forget those thoughts. 

Fortunately professor gojo didn't mention about the last encounter, he just asked you to collect the assignments from the juniors and bring it to his office. As usual he'd need your help evaluating the credits. 

You did feel a bit awkward after what you'd done but you tried to feign indifference, which didn't actually work, your palms were sweating wet. However you nodded as usual and went on with your work. 

You place the bundle of papers on his table, when your eyes travel to the cup of coffee, slow tendrils of warm stream rising upwards. However it was slightly displaced from its previous position, and— even the spoon in the coffee sat opposite from what you've seen before. There were slight sprinkles of white dust surrounding the saucer.

Your mouth forms a small astonished ‘o’, head turning back to look at the back door, with the small open gap. You weren't sure whoever you saw was Yuji or not, but you did spot a hint of pink. 

Your brows knitted together.

Did he spike the coffee? You thought.

But why would he do that? Yuji wouldn't go and do something like this. As you try to connect the dots with the situation, the creak of the door draws your attention back from it. 

Gojo entered back, his gaze briefly met yours, acknowledging you before turning back swiftly and sliding the door shut. 

He slipped back into his directorial chair, hand gesturing to the chair across his table. “Have a seat.”  

“—yes.” 

He ran a hand up his hair, getting hold of the first assignment among the bunch of papers, “take my laptop and register the credits.” He flipped through the pages, scrutinizing some parts longer than the others as you obeyed him. 

The excel sheet was already on screen as you opened his laptop, ready to type in the credits as he dictates. 

“Y/n,” you raise your head, eyes wide at him. This is the first time he said your name, even more shocked that he did remember it. 

“Yes.” 

“Have the coffee.” 

“—i'm sorry.” 

Minutes of silence pass, before gojo flips through the last page of the first assignment, separating it from the others. “I said. Have. The. Coffee.” 

You gulped at his persistent nature, did he spotted the white dust laying around? 

“I— I'm not very fond of it.” 

“Of coffee? Or of me?” you almost choked on your spit as he raised a cocky eyebrow, halting his hand midway from another assignment before picking up the metal spoon and stirring the lukewarm coffee once again. 

“Coffee. I m-mean.” 

“You seem nervous,” he placed both of his elbows on the table between you two, “I'm sure it will help you calm your nerves.” 

“T-thank you but I rea—” 

“You know you shouldn't reject your professor’s kindness.” your mouth felt dry, never have you ever seen professor gojo being this intimidating and hot, and if your brain already wasn't a freak, it was sort of turning you on. “Why are you adamant about it? Try it once.” he slid the saucer to you, as he let his face fall on the palm of his one hand, eyes watching your every movement with an orphic gleam. 

Unwillingly, you raised your hand, getting hold of the cup before bringing it to your lips. 

You gulped thickly not wanting to drink. You weren't sure if it was Yuji who spiked the drink or not, but it was sure spiked. You couldn't even bring yourself to tell gojo about it since you didn't want to blame Yuji for nothing but—

“drink.” 

You sip it. And— it tasted normal. Maybe you were just overthinking. 

Half an hour passed and you kept typing the credit scores on his laptop, as he continued checking the assignments. 

Everything was fine except you felt hot- like extremely hot. Your shirt stuck too tight to your skin and you wanted to take it off, your chest was heaving, sweat beads were forming on your temple even though the ac was on. 

“you okay?” gojo asks when you don't answer him. “Yes, I'm sorry, what was the score again?” 

“You seem to sweat awfully? Is something wrong?” Gojo rose from his seat, pushing the chair back slightly as he did so. He moved away from the table and approached you till he was in front of you. 

He extended one arm to you as his fingers touched your burning temple. You suck in a breath, his cold fingertips in contrast to your burning temple sent shivers down your spine. Heat pooled down your lower stomach as you felt the urge to clench around nothing. 

Was the coffee spiked with—

Gojo narrowed his gaze when you didn't answer him, retreating back to the almost finished cup of coffee, pouring out the rest of the remains into the saucer as the white powdery residue became visible. 

He swiped two fingers on it before rubbing and speculating it, sniffing it from his fingers. “tch, so you drugged it with aphrodisiacs.” 

“Huh?” you gawk at his accusation. 

“First you ask me to sleep with you, second you drug my coffee, do you really want me that bad?” 

You wanted to deny his accusations, you wanted to tell him that you didn't drugged his coffee but the way his words were laced with a hint of mockery, especially the fact the he knew what you said to him the last day, increased the dull ache of your core even more, thighs squeezing with each other to get some relief. 

You take a deep breath, calming your mind and open your mouth to deny him when he inserts his fingers in your mouth, the one with the white residue. 

“Suck.” your eyes widen once again, you shouldn't be doing this, you didn't drug his drink, so you should be telling him the truth. But what if you played along, what if you sucked his fingers as he said. 

What if—

Your tongue lapped the residue off his two fingers, sucking it clean, as he pulled his fingers out. He leaned down, hands on your arm rests caging you. 

“Such a good girl.” His breath tickled your burning skin, “I was going to wait till you graduate but since you're so impatient…strip.” 

It was an order. Unable to resist, you give in, if there was this mere possibility of him fucking you why not let it happen. You've had a crush on him since the very beginning and after all, this was the golden opportunity for you to confirm all the rumors about professor gojo you'd read in the forums. 

You let out a shaky breath, setting his laptop aside before hands come up to undo your shirt. Gojo straightens up, watching you shamelessly strip out of your shirt without blinking, gaze predatory even as if he wanted to devour you whole. 

You rise from your seat, letting your shirt fall on the chair you occupied before unzipping your skirt, its fabric pooling around your legs. 

You were now almost naked, only in your lace bras and your drenched panties. 

“Was the aphrodisiacs strong? You are pooling wet down there, it's almost dripping down your thighs.” And as if you weren't flushed enough, his mocking yet firm tone sent sparks dancing around your body. 

He didn't waste any more time before yanking you against his table and ripping off your panties. 

You hissed out a breath, which gojo swallowed with a bruising kiss. His one hand snaked his way to the hook of your bra while the other drifted down to your pulsating core. 

Oh god. He murmurs against your lips.

He barely even touched you and you're so achingly wet. Not that he expected any less with the uncertain amount of aphrodisiacs you swallowed. 

With one click, your bra loosened, before falling to the floor joining your torn laces. 

There you were completely naked, whimpering, withering mess under him as he kissed and suckled your lips. 

The infamous professor gojo satoru was kissing you, his hand down your pulsating core sent jolts circling the rough pad of his thumb on your red clit brutally.  

Gojo pulls away from the kiss, letting you feed chunks of oxygen to your lungs. A slim string of drool attaching both of your lips. “Open my shirt.” He says guiding your hand to his shirt, before latching onto your neck, marking you. 

You fumble with his shirt buttons hastily opening them before discarding his shirt on the floor. The way he was kissing his way down from your neck to your chest didn't allow you to take a look at his bare body, but you could feel it, muscles —defined, carved and chiseled. His hand reaches out, capturing yours, and he guides it across his chest, till it reaches the edge of his trousers. 

“Woa—” you gasp at his pent up fabric when gojo eased himself, grinding on your hands. 

A rumor confirmed: gojo had a big dick.

“Go on, do what you want with it.” He raised his head from your chest, now covered with red marks. He signals down with the corner of his lips curving sassily as he slips two of his fingers inside you. 

You suck in a breath. 

He draws back his free hand, cupping one of your breasts, caressing the neglected peaks of your arousal, while the other slowly fingers in and out of you, curling in so sweetly that it has your mind going dizzy. His fingers have you so full, that you feel you might just orgasm right now. The feeling of his rough fingers inside you was so different from yours, the way it pressed on different spots causing you to jolt of sensitivity, the way his thumb stimulated your clit, soothing the hot desire bubbling on your bunch of nerves, was otherworldly. You tried holding back your orgasm for this heaven to last longer, for him to lick on your nipples a little longer, for him to plunge his fingers in and out a little longer.

You heave out whimpers, trying to focus on something else other than your building hot white pleasure, unbuckling his belt as you unzip his trousers, letting it fall. 

His cock sprang out in full bloom as you pulled down his boxers, taking it in your grip causing him to hiss.

It was thick and angry, already leaking precum. Your breath came out in harsh raps as you started jerking him, trying to match his rhythm. “Mmhh fuck” he lets out a growl before withdrawing you of your pleasure, leaving you empty and dripping sticky. 

You suddenly regret holding back your orgasm. Will he stop? Will he say it's not right to do what you are doing now? Leave you unsatisfied, denied from your release, embarrassed and insulted. 

He pushed you down to your knees, as your grip on his cock loses which is soon replaced by his hand. Jerking rough and slow. 

“Open your mouth.” 

You couldn't react when his hand closed around your neck, squeezing it tighter and harder until darkness surrounds the edges of your vision and you gasp your mouth open barely managing to drag in a chunk of air when he shoved his cock in. 

“Yeah, now suck” he releases his hand from your neck only to tangle his fingers in your hair, forcing you down to gag on his thick cock. 

“Mphfh.” drool leaked from the corners of your lips and dripped down your chin.

Gojo tugged your head back until only the tip of his cock remained in your mouth as he looked down at your tear filled eyes. “isn’t this what you wanted?” He plunged back down your head again with a sharp thrust. His tip was touching the back of your throat that you could feel it twitching slowly in your mouth and if this wasn't too much, the urge to relieve your throbbing clit intensified. You slide a hand down to your core, rubbing circles as he pulls back your head again. “Tch. Tch. Y/n. You're so needy for me. Cubitum eamus?” he says gently wiping off a tear from your cheek.

Fuck. 

Before you could answer he starts fucking himself mercilessly into your mouth, his low grunts mixed with the obscene sound of your gagging caused another sensation of heat coiling down your stomach. This time he didn't even touch you yet you were this close to your orgasm. You were sure to release this time with his cock throbbing inside your mouth, fucking furiously, and tears clouding your gaze when he pulls out. 

“Mmhh—” your protests die down as quick as they arise when he pulls you up and lifts you to his table, jerking aside the bundle of papers you brought. 

He adjusted your hips, before spreading your legs wide open with his knees, yanking you closer, letting your back fall on his table, “so eager ain't ya’,” his voice was raspy with lust, as you pushed yourself up with your elbows to look at him when he thrusts himself in, nails digging on the plush of your hips. He slides in without much resistance as he grows a smile, “so horny that ya’ drugged ma’ coffee. Don't worry your professor’s gonna get you riling nuts.” He slides out before slamming in with one sharp thrust. Driving deep and hard with every single thrust. The table was shaking at the intensity of him pounding into you. 

You cried out, mind getting blank, unable to process any coherent thoughts other than the sensation of his skin sliding with yours. His veins became more prominent with each thrust, flush getting deeper and deeper as his cock buried into you inch by inch till it touched the hilt of your ecstasy, which came down so sudden and so erratic, spilling down his cock onto his table till it dripped down the floor. 

The table banged with each thrust yet you were too numb to even care for things to fall and shatter down on the floor as if the second wave of your ecstasy wasn't arriving, building up hot and raging along with the thrusts of your professor. 

You clamped hard around his cock taking it all in, being so good for him that he hissed out his moans, more ravenous than he'd ever been. Your pussy clenched and stretched so good that he felt his blood running erratic, thrust getting more sloppy as your second high crashed down, cunt rippling with juices over his cock drilling into you, incoherent chants of his name spilling out your mouth. His head fell back, mouth opening in a breathy moan, as his eyes roll back, he knew he was close and might cum inside you if he didn't suppress his clawing desire. 

With his muscles tensing each fucking second, he painfully let go of the warm sleeve of your cunt, the air feathering cool at his red cherry tip, before spurting out strings of cum on your stomach. 

You barely could get hold of your consciousness, fucked feral by gojo satoru, laying naked on his desk with your stream of orgasm dripping down and marks of his arousal sticky on your stomach. Your hair was messy, skin marked from his iron grip and you looked dumb, wincing from the sudden emptiness— yet you were the most beautiful sight to him.

Yuji stood behind the door peeking from the gap he left open, you— his senior lays fucked on the table, his grip over his aching cock had the white of his cum slicking down from his knuckles. Oh what a scene it was, to let you have the blame for his misconduct and see you getting bullied by their professor, and to jerk off watching the entire scene unfold. 

He felt bad for what he did, and yet he kept looking at the way you gagged around gojo’s cock, the way gojo sucked your nipples, and the way you squirted for him. He knows he shouldn't feel like this yet he was turned on, even though he came twice he was still turned on. 

You don't remember much of what happened later. You only heard the rustling of papers, fixing of chairs and the only blurry sight you can regain was papers collected next to you, the mess of both of your arousals clean and the slight press of his lips on your temple. 

Professor Gojo was fully dressed and calm. And you were in his car, wearing back your clothes except for your panties which were torn. You don't remember how you even got there. 

“Where are we going?” You manage to ask, your voice hoarse from all the shouting. 

“Home.”

Who knows you might be able to confirm the truth of the other rumors from the forums, however you were too spent to think any of that, slumping back into your slumber.

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated | taglist is open | tags: @secretfankoala @moonchhu

[strawberrymochin]

[strawberrymochin]

Heck I'm freaking out ajskaahhhhaahah!!!!

DESI JJK FANS WE WON 🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️

cr. to @/muffin_art_m on instagram (^○^)

[strawberrymochin]

[strawberrymochin]

Happy new year!

[strawberrymochin]

Hello!! I have a question. Is part 3 from "Behind the red curtains"/"Behind the estate of the wind pillar" done? Or will you not make a part 3? I've been dying to read it😭😭. tysm 💖

THANKK youuuu so so muchhh for reading the ficc!! And I'm ofcourse continuing the fic but the fact is I'm in a terrible writing slump... can't find motivation to do my uni work too. I will post it as soon as I get out of it. Thankss for being with meee and my delusions !!!!

[strawberrymochin]

I'm currently in a terrible writing slump....guys help me choose....I have three ideas