#・゜゜・．✧ satoru gojo.

[rinniessance]

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ daydreaming at last ~

꒰ ange 〳angie, bunny girl, turbulent 20s ~~ ・゜゜・． satosugu's spoiled princess and rin's little doll .ᐟ.ᐟ i post and interact with nsfw and dark content so minors, do not interact. i block ageless and empty blogs ༊*·˚ ꒱

꒰ i love love love talking to people, come and chat with me about anything .ᐟ.ᐟ pro-self shipper .ᐟ.ᐟ ꒱

꒰ rules〳byf・゜゜・．masterlist．・゜゜・about me ꒱

꒰ come and get your piece of cake ꒱

ready. set. go - satosugu x cam girl f!reader (nsfw, 1.8k)

daddy’s favourite girl - step-dad!gojo x f!reader (dark content, nsfw, 5.1k)

between a rock and a hard place - leon kennedy x f!reader x satoru gojo (resident evil au, nsfw, 5.8k)

faith - suguru geto x f!reader (nsfw, 6k)

teenage fever - satosugu x f!reader (fluff, 11.6k)

toxic lover fm - multi anime men series (jjk, bllk, bsd) - coming soon .ᐟ

© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you

[vertigoed]

Faded 1.0 | Rich boy! Gojo Satoru

Content : AU richboy! Gojo satoru x fem!reader, angst, unrequited love, drug usage

I can't believe this is happening What did I do? What did she do to me? This isn't true to me 

Prequel can be found here

Next part

TW: mentions of drugs

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜

The day that you left

Satoru was lying on his couch with his long legs sprawled out while he stared up at the ceiling with his headphones on. He had been lost in thought for what felt like hours, replaying the fight he had with you the other month.

You had been giving each other the silent treatment until Satoru was the first to cave and sent you a text to which you never replied, let alone read it. He waited for a couple more weeks until he tried giving you a call but it went straight to voice mail. It took him a couple more tries until he realised you had blocked his number.

Without you, the days go by slower and the nights feel longer. He wondered what you were doing and how long you were going to be ignoring him for.

As he lay there, lost in his own thoughts, his phone rang, pulling him back to reality. It was Suguru and for some reason, he felt a sense of trepidation as he bought the phone to his ear.

"What's up?" he asks, sitting up from his position.

"Dude you're not going to believe what Nanami told me," Suguru said, his voice grave. "Y/N is leaving today for good."

Satoru's heart dropped, his mouth was slightly agape at the news. His mind was blank and he didn't know what to say. He was almost certain he had just misheard.

"What did you say?" he said slowly, "I swear I heard you say Y/N is leaving."

"I did! She's at the airport now, going to Europe or something. I'm sorry man," Suguru answered and the line started to get staticky, "I think you got time-"

Satoru hung up on his friend mid sentence with his heart thumping against his chest. He quickly jumps off his couch and grabs his keys off the coffee table before rushing out.

He jumped into his car and started speeding towards the airport, his hands shaking as he gripped the steering wheel. Once he hit the motorway, the traffic started to get congested and every second felt like an eternity. He started to recklessly overtake cars that were driving too slowly, making sure to flip them off if they honked back at him.

He checked his phone for the time while hoping for a message from you, but there was nothing.

As he looks up to focus back on the road, everything turned silent.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜

Summer of 2011, aged 20

It's been two years since you left, yet there hadn't been a single day where you didn't cross Satoru's mind.

He was once again stalking your Facebook profile which has developed into a part of his daily routine. He mindlessly scrolls through your old posts and lingers on one post in particular, a photo of the two of you at graduation with arms wrapped around each other and carefree smiles on your faces. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered how happy you guys were to be leaving high school behind, the bubbling naive excitement for future plans together for college, and how stupid he was back then.

At first he attempted the impossible and did everything he could to stop thinking of you.

He stopped listening to his favourite album and stopped eating at his favourite ramen place you guys went to every Friday night. He even stopped smoking Marlboro golds, which he had been a religious smoker of since 16, just because it reminded him of you and how you always carried a pack in your purse no matter where you went.

Until you left, he never realised how much of his identity had been entwined with yours and he hated himself for it.

Satoru habitually opens up the chat, still holding onto that tiny sliver of hope that you had opened the hundreds of messages that's been accumulated over the years.

"Yo, Gojo, can I come in?"

His thoughts got interrupted by his door abruptly opening, revealing a very gleeful looking Suguru. Gojo couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh, knowing that devilish smile meant his best friend had something to propose. He was beginning to contemplate taking away Suguru's keys to his house.

"Why you huffing at me already? Did I walk into you watching porn or something?" his friend laughs, strolling over to the bar cart to pour himself two glasses of whiskey before handing one to Satoru which he reluctantly accepted.

Satoru then fishes out a black card from his pocket and tosses it at the blonde man without a word.

Satoru picked up the business card that read: Moon velvet, Grand opening, and raised a brow at his friend, "What's this?"

"Got invited to a club opening, you need to come," his friend responds, swirling the scotch glass around, "I don't care what you have on, cancel everything."

Satoru rolls his eyes and turned to his monitor screen, "I can't bro, got assignments to do."

"Come on," Suguru pleaded, slamming his glass down, "Live a little, why are you acting like an old geezer lately? Seriously man, when was the last time you went out and got laid?"

A year, Satoru thought to himself.

"Shit gets old, I'm over it," he shrugged, taking a sip of the alcohol, relishing the fiery kick of the liquid burning down his throat. He was praying Suguru's thick head would just take the hint and fuck off.

Satoru knew there was a deeper reason why he didn't want to party anymore. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy letting loose, he just couldn't trust himself when he wasn't sober.

It didn't matter if he took a downer like Xanax, or a stimulant like cocaine or ecstasy. Every drug had led him to a downward spiral of mental anguish and humiliating moments like crying to a girl he sleeping with about how much he misses you; only for her to leak the story to journalists and several headlines coming out the next day that were along the lines of: "Gojo Satoru, Japan's favourite nepo baby revealed to be crying over his high school girlfriend while having sex!"

So after too many failed attempts to numb himself, he learnt the hard way he could never shake the memories of you.

"Bullshit," Suguru narrowed his eyes at his friend and leaned in to get a better look at him, "It's because of Y/N right?"

Satoru shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to keep his expression neutral but he knew Geto could always see through his lies. He blinks at his friend, "You think I'm that hopeless? Of course, it's not because of her."

But Suguru wasn't buying it. "Yes, I think you're hopeless."

Satoru felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. but he couldn't bring himself to admit the truth. He couldn't let Suguru see how much he still missed you, how much he longed to see you again.

"I'm over her," Satoru insisted, "It's been four years. I've moved on."

"Well if you moved on, prove it to me tonight," Suguru crosses his arms across his chest and tilts his head up at his friend, "Tonight you, me and our girl molly, we're going to party till the sun rise like the old times. I pick you up at 9 tonight and..."

"Fuck that feels so good," Satoru closes his eyes as you massaged his scalp with your fingers, vigorously sucking on a lollipop as his jaw gurned from the molly.

You were sitting on his sofa with his head in your lap, Aviici playing in the background and both completely fucked off a cocktail of substances.

You both had returned from the worst frat party, mutually agreeing to leave early to kick back in your living room as anything was better than being surrounded by sweaty, broke frat boy with terrible music.

"What a waste of time," you break the silence.

"Yeah," Satoru agreed, eyes still closed. He was in complete bliss being in your warmth as your nimble fingers continued massaging his temple, trailing down to the nape of his neck and his shoulders.

Satoru opens his eyes when he noticed you had stopped massaging him. Much to his surprise, you were staring down at him with a weird look in your eyes that made him feel slightly uneasy.

"What?" he cocks his head and pulls himself up from you so that he was sitting up, "You feeling okay? You need water?"

You shake your head with a small smile then suddenly reached out to pluck the lollipop from his mouth before popping it in yours. For a moment, Satoru was frozen, taken back and unsure how to react.

"My jaw's hurting," you explained with a mischievous glint. As you pulled the lollipop back out of your mouth, Satoru couldn't help but notice the way your lips were slightly puckered and the way your tongue darted out to wet them. It was a small, unconscious gesture, but it set his pulse racing.

"Aye your maid forgot to stock up on toilet paper, pass me some tissues?"

Satoru directs his attention to Suguru who was sheepishly sticking his head out of the bathroom door and quickly got up to look around. He had never been so relieved and happy to be asked to hand over toilet paper.

"It's not on the bookshelf you idiot, it should be downstairs laundry," you tell your best friend who was searching in the strangest places.

Satoru hastily leaves the room, his heart still racing from that small interaction. He places his hand over his chest to calm it down the moment he's out of your sight.

"What the fuck is wrong with her?" he mutters to himself and shudders at the fluttering sensation in his stomach.

Satoru was quickly bought back to reality by the sharp thud at the top of his head. Suguru was shaking his head with a rolled up magazine in his hand.

"You're doing that thing again where you creepily zone out," Suguru sighs and gives a small tut, looking at Satoru with a pitiful expression, "I know you don't have shit to do tonight so I'll pick you up later okay?"

Knowing what Satoru was going to say, the dark-haired man quickly gets up, blocking his ears and started to sing while his friend protested in the background.

Satoru watches the door close and sinks back into the leather seat, feeling defeated and already worn out. He runs his fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes to stop his brain from torturing him and replaying the endless memories of the past. He hated that the thought of you still make his heart ache.

He wished for a day when you no longer existed in his mind. To be able to forget every joke you shared and the little things you did that made him smile, like your dramatic reaction to his teasing and how you always tilted your head and scrunched your nose when confused. He hoped that one day the sun and the stars will stop reminding him of you and that he'll be able to look at them without the feeling of emptiness.

Satoru knew he had every right to hate you and he genuinely did at times. You never answered his calls or bothered to read his messages, not even after Suguru admittedly told him she was aware that he got into a car crash after trying to meet her at the airport and spent three months in hospital.

You were that cruel and heartless. He knew you were borderline narcissistic and didn't hesitate to cut people off, but he always thought he was different. Yet despite feeling all this, he still spent most of the time blaming himself, wondering where he went wrong and what he didn't do enough or say.

And then, something flicked inside of him, his constant yearning for you turned into bitter resentment, a level of anger he never felt before. Maybe it was the mental exhaustion of always missing you with no hope that led him to this breaking point.

"Fuck it, she's dead to me," he softly declares to himself and pulls out his phone to call the number he hadn't called in years.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

NEXT PART OUT

heartbroken gojo is so fun to write hehe. also i wish i could write smut but i genuinely am terrible at it lol

ps any feedback appreciated ! :)

[sonarspace]

thinking abt gojo.

imagine wearing his blindfold 😵‍💫. your vision is fully black. he pulls off of your pants slowly, runs his fingers over you clothed pussy. teasing. his forefinger presses into your clit lightly and you immediately buck up into it. he laughs “be patient sweet thing” and gives you a quick kiss. he removes your panties. pushes his finger into your mouth and you start sucking on it while he brings his lips down to your clit and starts licking slowly. his tongue circles your nub and he sucks lightly looking up at the way you moan and push your chest up. his other hand moves under your shirt and over up to your chest. he alternates between your boobs pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers. his tongue moves down to your cunt. moving around leaving little kisses teasing your hole with his tongue. he pulls out the finger in your mouth and brings it down to your hole. slowly pushing in and curling it slightly to reach your g spot and pulling out.

your jaw drops open, your hand falling to his hair to push his face back to your clit “pleaseeee” you whine. you look so beautiful like this he thinks. your hair sticking to your face, mouth opened in pleasure, begging him to make you to cum. and so he does. he moves his tongue over your clit. pressing down harder. flicking your nub with his tongue and sucking like a starved man.

your legs start shaking around his head slightly as he continues sucking onto your clit and pumping his finger in out of you while his other hand continues massaging your boobs. his continous ministrations have you cumming loudly with a chant of his name “satoru satoru ahhhhngghh fuck satoru”. he pulls out his finger from your hole and dips his tongue in. licks a strip up from your hole to your clit until you push him off due to the overstimulation.

he removes the blindfold off your eyes and smiles widely at you (:D) “hi baby”

⋆·˚ ༘ *✧.*.·゜゜··゜゜·．.·゜゜··゜゜·．.·゜゜··゜゜·．.·゜゜··゜゜·．.·゜゜··゜゜·．✧.*⋆·˚ ༘ *

a/n: it’s very rushed probably not that good but hope you enjoyed. reblog pls

[missmeinyourbones]

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT! *:･ﾟ✧*: *

i thought we had no chance, and that’s romance ・゜゜・．

in honor of this acc hitting a big milestone, i will be writing pieces inspired by prompts from taylor swift’s album, midnights!

.｡.:*☆ pieces inspired from THIS PROMPT LIST! all pieces will be linked here as they are written!

meet me at midnight - suna rintaro

one night or a wife - miya atsumu

i fight with you in my sleep - levi ackerman

to hide that would be so dishonest - armin arlert

first time i’ve felt the need to confess - eren jaeger

it’s okay, we’re the best of friends - megumi fushiguro

i’m just too soft for all of it - megumi fushiguro

all this shit is new to me - satoru gojo

we were supposed to be just friends - satoru gojo

weird, but fucking beautiful - touya todoroki

.｡.:*☆ requests are officially CLOSED!

thank you all from the very bottom of my heart for letting me do what i love on here! all of your support and kind words truly make this such an incredible experience for me ;0; there are not enough thank yous on this planet for me to express that <3 stop following me i am a little off putting

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension | Gojo Satoru Multi-fic (Chapter 8.1)

7TH DIMENSION MASTERLIST

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 8

7TH DIMENSION WATTPAD VERSION/LINK (I am entirely ahead on this site now. 7th Dimension on Wattpad has now accumulated more than 10-13 chapters even before I published this one today. There are minimal scenes back in the previous chapters which has been altered there, so sorry about to those who only read my updates through Tumblr because there might be some differences in Satoru’s characteristics which has been changed on Wattpad already, yet y'all are bound to read the altercations in further chapters. Heehee.)

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: This first morning spent with Satoru's students were filled with Fushiguro Megumi's curiosities and a jolting likelihood of breaking this disparate ice knocked together by Kugisaki Nobara as she ended the tension with a question that has placed you in a tight spot for this precipitated concern, leaving you all at sea with her inquiry.

Warnings: None. Aside from the trio's bonehead moments. I mean, Yuji and Nobara's. HAHAHA. Megumi's stressed out for them both. Satoru's still not on this chapter aside from a thoughtful flashback. Heehee. Y'all better miss him, he says. The trio's visuals. With one gif of Satoru. Heehee. <3

A/N: FINALLY GOT TO UPDATE, 7TH DIMENSION HERE ON TUMBLR! <3 ENJOY! COMMENTS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! Even small stickers or emojis! <3

If y'all have any suggestions for songs that are fit for 7th Dimension, please don't hesitate to comment, message or tell me! I'm open for any songs to listen to whenever I'm writing! <3 Thank you so much! Also wanna include a playlist chapter for this fanfic book we have. <3

FEEDBACKS HELP A LOT FOR A WRITER. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS MAKE MY HEART TINGLE AND SQUEAL, ISTG. 💙 I DO APPRECIATE THEM ALL. <3 Your feedbacks and kind words makes me forget the fatigue that I'm in!

SORRY IF THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS WITH EVERY CHAPTER I WRITE. I ain't a professional writer! I'm just a potato-hoe! LMAO.

Words: 5.3k+

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits, also those posted are not mine especially the GIF's. (I dunno how to make GIF's 😭) (Other Megumi Fushiguro GIFs are from ydotome on Tumblr! <3 RubyDragon16 for some of Itadori Yuji gifs posted on Tumblr too. Nobara Gifs and pic are also taken from Tumblr as well! Credits to the users!) I only own the plot of 7th Dimension. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline and the characters themselves. OG characters are created by me and will be stated during my brief author's notes. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be for the sake of the story. 

Ten minute easy vegetable ramen noodles that were rustled up in customized preparation made by yours truly. You knew it was of mediocre because of the limited ingredients that were available and seen through lashings of sections made to be cooked for sweetmeats. 

Howbeit, your ventures upon attempting to make the most of your first---or to be specific---your second impression for Satoru's students to sway them over upon concerns that you wanted answers for. The vegetable meatballs are the best of the bunch. It packed up with the spicy miso broth as much as your palates could distinguish thereof. Soft cooked eggs and with a practical time of ten minutes for these Jujutsu Sorcerer students to patiently wait for. 

"I'm already full." Nobara Kugisaki nasally murmured under her breath, critically assessing the piping hot bowled food that has been served in front of her and offering the meal with a subtle, lenient push by you, a cordial smile on your face while doing so. Your smile have been downright encouraging for her to take a bite of it despite of her hardwearing reluctance, "---You can give it to Gojo-Sensei if he wants. I doubt that pesky adult wouldn't act like a big-baby once he realizes we didn't save him a meal made by you," she continued to reject your offers, utmost blatant and mundane as she sounded so since the moment she had taken a seat next to Fushiguro. The furrow between her brows expressing how thoroughly disinterested she was of the whole abrupt gathering planned. 

"---Maki-san and the others needed to go elsewhere. I'm just here because I have nothing else to do. Don't even bother to think of anything else."

You've given her a look, blinking back at her with that guileless glint filling that haze within your eyes. A faint shake of your head being given to the first year, pretty, ginger-haired student, "Who says we're saving some for him? This is for you guys. His students that I currently know of. We'll be saving some for Yuji. You guys give this to him if he's out somewhere before---"

About to jump down on the bar stool you were seating on, planning to pack the meal reserved for the teenaged Jujutsu Sorcerer, your sentence has been cut short when Itadori Yuji sprightly arrived like a lightning bolt, giving you a fright and eliciting a reaction of jumping on your own seat when he basically threw himself into the threshold of the kitchen that they have recently been aware of. 

The adorable, juvenile was too enthusiastic, excited and eager to claim his seat before you, invading this instantaneous get-together with his outgoing and energetic character, unceremonious for the spotlight to land on him once he did. His speed questionable for you to stare back at the student once he was associated upon his seat within just a matter of seconds as he shifted around, "I heard my name!" he'd brightly exclaimed, his giggle leaving his mouth in between his abnormally fast running, "---Hello, Eigo-San!" he'd acknowledged with the use of the basics of the English language, accompanied by the brightest beam he could give, his broad hand raised that has surely brightened your day after all of Gojo's pranks that you have received since the moment you've woken up.

"Hi, Yuji!" The youngster's aura was just entirely different. It was the kind where one could adapt to or gradually take to heart. The kind where you, yourself---those negativity or pessimistic side of you ought to be amended just by Itadori's presence alone. 

Sukuna's Vessel emitted a gurgle of excitement through his mouth, humming in pleasure to gorge upon the special noodles you've made for Gojo's special students, knowing full well that you've poured your heart out in this one, leaving the irritation felt from Gojo's stunts brushed to the sides, "That meal looks delicious! Is this for me?" you've given him a nod of discernment, nodding another as if to invite the juvenile to cram down what was being served hot.

"Yep! Hurry before it gets cold!"

Nobara continued to have her elbow rested upon the tables, a glower permanent on her face. Fushiguro was staring straight ahead. He was gazing as if he was in deep thought. Analyzing or assessing queries not ought to be told, suppressing himself from uttering them out loud.

Hence, his pink haired companion named Yuji began to grab onto his own cutleries, those metal chopsticks that were situated properly around the side. The juvenile's chimes of excitement leaving his mouth again for the second time when he had concentrated upon the food that was being served, this sound of appreciation similar to how his sensei reacts whenever there was scrumptious, nummy food that they find appetizing and delectable.

Satoru. The man who basically popped in and out of your room in the middle of the night to inform you about a promise that he demanded and forged. This current morning being spent was supposed to be breakfast with the man himself.

Thus far, he was nowhere to be found.

Though, it wasn't like you weren't seeing this as a gainful opportunity to spend time upon having breakfast with his students who also knew him much. Creating rapport with the youngsters despite of the undeniable language barrier felt fun and comforting especially when you could see the efforts they're squeezing in just to get to understand you and also for a fact that it wasn't just Satoru Gojo you were getting to know as well.

"Eigo-San," Megumi was monotoned as he acknowledged your presence with an apathetic expression on his face, the foggy steams coming from the ramen noodle overcasting his face, getting a better angle on appreciating this young student's aesthetics. Regardless of how you were poking fun over his sable, spiky hair and addressing him to be classified as a Sea-Urchin, Megumi Fushiguro was definitely a pretty boy just as to how Itadori Yuji could be perceived by the great discernments of your own, silent perusals.

They had their differences, though. Winsome dissimilarities that were ought to be determined between them. Both are pretty. Yuji was of the average height, shorter than his friend. His large, light brown eyes and slightly, sawtooth pink hair giving him this charming, sweet aura that you were ascertain of.

Fushiguro went on with his query, speaking through his phone using their own native language to word it out better. He was two-fisted for a question that troubles his own curiosities upon why your presence has been sudden; upon why your existence just happened within a blink of an eye in the midst of an occurrence that happened last Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill event.

"May I ask why you're stuck here in this...world we're in?"

Your ears sprung upon that question, hearing it as an echo of your consciousness. The speakers of his phone translating Megumi's vernacular as you were distracted on grabbing onto your own bowl of noodles, gently pulling the dinnerware towards you. The distinct clattering of your own utensils sonorously fading in the background. This unembellished question carried through by one of Satoru's beloved students taking you as a prisoner to your own's inattentiveness. Actions were halted---ceased once the question has been frankly said when Megumi begun to ask.

"Keep this as a secret between us, will ya'?"

Gojo's silvery tone echoed inside that hollow chasm in your brain, filling your memories. He was frolicsome as he insisted, although it held austere demands that laced through his words. The mandate that he has given made it seem like he would want the issue be kept stringently between you both. You've remembered the words; Satoru's exact utterance that repeated inside your mind. 

You knew damn well it was a consequential issue that you profoundly held when his demeanor changed. Bearing of a sensei who cared and was thoughtful as was deemed to be perceived from your perspective, a first time sight upon seeing this white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer as one who had all the prospect of someone who truly nurtures and encourages these youngsters who he supports. 

"---not even to my students, Ijichi, other people or anyone whom you're bound to see or meet within the territory of Tokyo Jujutsu High. Don't disclose anything to them, not even a single detail. Especially those ripped maquettes you have." Gojo kept you under his studious gaze, keeping a tight, hell-bent observation for you while you were busily wolfing down your own plate. Through the midst of his instruction, you were brought to a halt in the middle of chewing down your own meat when you've instantly apprehended the slightest change of behavior from him---all of a sudden, this guy in front of you was actually capable of finally taking the shoes of an adult. 

"You can only speak of these issues to me and no one other than me. The sketch matters, these anamnesis or augury you have for the Jujutsu Society that we both know about are exclusively to be discussed between the strongest, spectacular Gojo Satoru and the hardheaded, weeny, Tiny-Chan, Got that?"

You've given Satoru a blink of your wide, ingenuous eyes. Abruptly being lost from his prompt advices. His thoughts were vacant, absorbed to be like he was also in the middle of dwelling over things, past experiences you technically have no idea on as Gojo was never one to blow the gaff of such things especially towards a non-sorcerer who was currently having the maelstrom of broken memories he was confident of you to know without the need for further forewarn.

"Because these students of mine---" Satoru started to divulge over this profound thoughts that were ought to be silenced to only himself, but were vocalized through his own defenses down, "---I wouldn't want them stressing out about the future during their youth," he brought his own chopsticks to his mouth, filling his chops with his own noodles and murmured his next sentences through the food he chewed, sounding incomprehensible at first but gradually understanding everything when you've scrutinized further, much to his trial of making it sound discreet for you to hear.

"They should have at least, the fun they deserve during this time around. I'm leaving this to us---the adults."

Us. Satoru meant to the both of you. Only. More or less the same upon identifying yourselves like how parents would harbor the detrimental probabilities of what fate had for your children. His students that he keeps his eyes on. 

You had no idea why the sentences he had been using---the specific use of the word 'us' made your heart feel warm and tingly on the spur of the moment when it shouldn't have been at all. 

You've given him a subtle glimpse of your eyes, watchful over how he was now absorbed on his own food and busily pigging out. A teasing jest leaving your mouth from noticing the sudden shift of the atmosphere and trying to let it pass through as if it didn't even happen at all, the rapid alters that you've shortly associated to be of a person's extensive ruminations and  deep thoughts that you've guessed he never reflects upon towards other people, as much as you could comprehend his complex, psychological behavior, "The adults, huh? You mean, me then. Obviously, I'm all by myself on this one." you deadpanned, leaving the idea alone and short while repressing the smile from forming to the fullest; short enough for Gojo to snap his gaze towards you like he had taken serious offense to that. 

"Oi, oi! It's either you take that back or I'm taking those bags of shopping galore situated beside you----back to those stores we've visited!" 

Fushiguro noticed the slight pause of your fingers and gestures. The student instantly knew that you were reevaluating the entire question again as if you were keeping surreptitious concerns that leaves them out of the page, "Do you mean what's my entire purpose or why am I sticking around you guys, Megumi?"

The latter gave a subtle nod as he sieved through your gesticulations, "Gojo-Sensei..." he trailed off, looking away for a second, losing concentration over what he was trying to mean as he thought of a reason to support this undying curiosities he had. Those reckons falling upon the figure of his friend who was thoroughly distracted by the amount of savory victual that was served right in front of the pink-haired first year student, "---hardly tells us anything about you. Yuji has been really curious."

Itadori had his mouth wide open, opt to feed himself with the ramen using his own chopsticks.  The proximity of the noodles already nearing his mouth when he had to pause for Fushiguro's  mention of his name that was not bargained for. 

"I was? huh? when was I?" he skeptically asked his friend, looking back at Megumi with a dubious glint of his eyes without stopping his mouth for Fushiguro's sudden fit ups. 

Megumi was quick to grumble a hum. His disappointment and scowl seen through it all especially when he had to purposely give Yuji a nudge under the table with his knee, signaling to just agree to what he says.

"Ah. Hai! Hai!" Itadori quickly supported his friend's statements with another query that seemed to be out of context, one that has been different to the first one which spouted a glare from Fushiguro upon being seated on his side,"I...." his brain forged a spare, dense inquiry. Thoroughly distracted by the meal that was cut-off for his friend's barefaced lie to have him involved in this nosiness he had with you,"---have been...really curious about your relationship with Gojo-Sensei. Is it bound to develop romantically, Eigo-San? Ehe!" Yuji quipped a faint tee-hee on the end of his sentence, briskly adding his next wisecracks without a pause.

"---By his age and how he lives a solitary life, Sensei really needs a someone who could take care of himby now and I vote for Eigo-San and her nice, amiable behavior which Sensei will approve of---also because you're the only one whom Fushiguro have stated that has kept him distracted enough! Do I need to repeat myself for this to appear more genuine? Again, I vote for Eigo-Santo keep Gojo-Sensei grounded when we all know that's never guaranteed to happen because of how everyone would pay to disagree---aside from me, of course---"

"Itadori!" Fushiguro tried to control the thunderstruck expression that wanted to resurface from his listless guise, "---Shut up, you idiot! That was far beyond the route of my question!" Megumi managed to declare a firm scold of his own whispers, his teeth gritted upon the necessity to kick his friend from beneath the table. 

"Eh?! What? Weren't you also curious as to why Sensei sounded like he was too chummy with Eigo-San through the phone-call you had with him yesterday, Fushiguro?" 

The translator seemed to have its error. Jumping from one thought to the other from their rapid statements which has not been interpreted, the robotic medium stammering against the speakers of Megumi's phone in which he had to refresh with brisk taps of his fingers over his phone's screen. You surprisingly never caught onto their stealthy, weird behaviors. Lost in your own dwelling for what was needed to be said as Satoru had thought of this scene ahead of time when he was bound to eventually be elsewhere. Much to your unsuspecting notions for him, the blindfolded cyclops had been one step ahead in cases like this.

In which kept you under thorough spotlight and anxiety because of this abrupt need to lie in front of his students.

Your brows were raised, currently beating behind the bush and sticking onto Gojo's behests for what amount of information did he want for his students to know from your catch-22 situation, "If Satoru hardly tells anything about me to you guys then it simply means that your Sensei doesn't want you to get involve with my...peculiar mess," you've trailed off casually, catching onto Gojo's minimal unpretentious, habitual chatters by now. Obvious that you were trying to avoid and disclose anything unplumbed, "---I'm just here to provide what he needs from me in exchange of him, learning how to bring me back to my rightful dimension. That's it. Then, off I probably go."

It was probably a secret then. Megumi was consumed over his own inaudible ponders, clearing his throat from Itadori's witless queries prior to the answer he received from you. Sea-Urchin highly perceived that you were swerving upon a bumpy road and avoiding to get caught from the holes he was trying to bequeath---which has been technically the point at issue for the time being. 

"He probably knows already." Megumi stated, point blank and as a matter of fact, giving his entire credence to their teacher's insane, compelling abilities provided for the world that they live in. His curiosities were cut-dead from your cop-outs. The unspoken secret writ large upon your amorphous answer. Those fingers of his reached for his side of the plate, grabbing onto his own chopsticks and never wanting to push this insistence through for today. 

Perhaps, some other time. 

"---You just need to give Gojo-Sensei what he wants and desires from you. Unless, he's being all full of red-herrings."

Kugisaki Nobara was giving you both a look of dissatisfaction and peculiarity. The atmosphere she was catching on definitely tells that she was in a state of a general air of malaise, as if this whole conversation had taken a toll towards her genteel path of thinking caps for the female juvenile, terribly going off the course from the ambiguous phrases. Her next suppositions never expecting that it would come from the young lass at all considering how bawdy it sounded; how slightly near the knuckle it was. 

Or she just probably understood it differently. That, or she wasn't just fully committed over listening throughout the entire discussion that Nobara had just caught on to the second half of the discourse. 

"You know," she started, stifling the need to laugh under her breath and wanting to continue her arrogant, thoughtless demeanor between you both, trying to keep it the way it is. This sentence she'd muttered was meant for the black haired sorcerer, yet toned down to you as well. But, mostly it was for Megumi.

"---By being dissembling, it sounds entirely salubrious, coming from you, Fushiguro!"

Megumi gave her a tight grimace, his eyes thoroughly squinted into slits as his ears instantly went heated at that. Tinting into pinkish, pale-red hues from the sudden shift. The inheritor of the Shikigami never expecting that his friend would abruptly intervene in between the conversation.

"Kugisaki, what are you even---"

Nobara instantly cut him off and was as barefaced as she ever been, "What? I'm just being frank here. It's not like you both are also thinking differently." she continued with an apathetic shrug to her shoulders, unapologetic as she reasoned out. The noodles still left untouched before her upon her convictions pertaining to both young men who were situated within the kitchen's territory. This one student whom was now wrapped upon taking a slush and whirr on his bowl of morning meal as if he wasn't delivering dopey amount of inquiries earlier on whilst the other was keeping his embarrassment and discomposure to a minimal and covert level.

"---But, whatever floats your boats. We're not one to get our butts in whatever is happening to his life anyway,"

Sea-Urchin went on upon glaring towards Nobara who kept shrugging herself, the slightest pout of pride kicking her in a boost. There was this awkward silence for everyone. Mostly surrounding the three of you except for Itadori Yuji who arbitrarily have been preoccupied by this offbeat, hushed spirit that the young male seemed to be arrested in between his eating. An unusual behavior that Yuji wouldn't be settling himself for everyone if it would make them worry for his state. You've seen him take a pause, staring at the bowl with an expression that you couldn't decipher.

He seemed to stop from chewing upon his second bite. Hence, this unadorned gestures he was bluntly indicating escalated a lot of questions inside your head.

Was it delicious? Or gut-churning enough for it to be thrown in the trash bin?

"So, how is it, Yuji?" The question felt like you were walking on thin ice. This has been the initial time that you have fed Satoru's students from the moment you've arrived in their dimension, as much as you knew. Though, you were heedless that they have already tasted pieces of your homemade sweetmeats that were forged for Satoru. Those Ice Cream Mochis that he had been grumbling about throughout the car ride back when you were both inside Ijichi's car from the shopping spree day he overindulged you in. 

You felt your agitation growing into an overwhelming sensation of profound concern when you've seen Itadori who went on upon keeping a straight face. This teenager was notable for being carefree, possessing such slaphappy courage whenever he was in and out of Jujutsu battles as much as his friends knew him for. The kid was always bright, welcoming and never stoic, wordless nor quiet at all.

What did you do wrong then? Had you prepared them a meal that was concocted out of the ire you've felt for Satoru's pranks?

"It's..." Itadori started to vent, expressing his silence out and finding the right words that he couldn't seem to say.

Nobara took all the heed to that, detecting that it wasn't only Itadori who was definitely acting strange but also the latter student who sat beside her, "Itadori," she frankly called out to the pink-haired student, looking at him like he had grown three heads. Her intonation all the same with Megumi, "Fushiguro," the ginger-haired Jujutsu sorcerer brushed a strand of her hair that draped along her pleasing face. She'd avoid your gaze, still thoroughly defiant over wanting to be in a conversation with you.

"Why are you both weirdly hushed? Though, Fushiguro's stoic as he still is. This woman's asking a question. I'm not answering her."

Itadori's unrecognizable facial expression finally changed into something more amiable, mellow and warm. This felt like the types of beam where one indulges in reminiscence. The kind whenever Satoru gets to eat his sweets, one that stimulates his brain, calming it down. With relevance to other people, this split second was worth to be seen and grasped as to how a person was alleviated through appeasing over their own stressful thoughts and devouring over a marked dish that casts one's mind back to.

"Ah, It's just like Grandpa's." Itadori stated out of the blue, wandering through his memories. His gaze forlorn and constantly concentrating on his food at hand. He'd avoided everyone's question, appearing to be like he hadn't heard anything at all and took a big bite out of his chopsticks before he has heard your audible confusion.

"Huh?" your expressions were iffy from the translation sent. Eyebrows squeezed tight. Grandpa? The uncertainty filling up the air as you've found his answer to be entirely peculiar over why he'd assumed and declared his opinions over a quick, randomized cooking prepared. 

"Eigo-San, thank you---so much. This is...best-o!" he'd let out his emotions without even the need to use his own intrinsic language, pouring more effort to keep the conversation going with a normal pace rather than waiting for such a lagging interpreter. Itadori's words stammering in the midst of it all as if he was greatly hanging on a thread. He caught you off guard because he sounded like he was choking on his own sentimentalities after that.

Nobara had her brows in a tight furrow, turning her gaze towards the black-haired sorcerer who seemed to also be in his usual silence and unforthcoming frame of mind. "Fushiguro?"

It seemed to be a different case when you and Nobara had seen the tiniest bit of smile lift his mouth. A surprising occurrence coming from the Shikigami user, never opt to know what he was thinking because he never tells anything nor did he bother aside from declaring his staunch gratitude for this unforeseen meal that he had been wary beforehand.

"Thank you, Eigo-San."

You were giving the vibes; that sheltered quality and comfort that people receive from a family.

Fushiguro's words crawled through the bottom of your heart, feeling this palpable sense of commiseration harrowing within that depth of vast field that your heart could provide for. They were utmost genuine. Their simon-pure gratefulness coming from both students that it made Nobara curious, wanting to go out of the way for her reticence. 

She was definitely lured as to why they were acting entirely different all of a sudden, out of their customary character to be precise.

You've given Megumi and Yuji a wide-ranging beam, relieved that they've savored the dish a lot than ever even to the point of lifting their spirits once they start their mornings upon taking assignments or trainings that were back-breaking at the end of the day. Probably, this was also what Satoru wanted them to feel if he was around. However, everyone might state otherwise because of how pestiferous he also gets. 

"You're welcome! You guys can talk to me now via such a slow Google Translator or whatever interpreter you have." you've lowly giggled to yourself, mirthful that the translator was helping a lot to be less awkward between everyone in the room, also for a fact that you've get to talk to others as well and not just the annoying blindfolded idiot.

"---I'm happy that I don't get to talk to Satoru all the damn time, you guys just know how he is."

Surprising to say the least, Fushiguro still had his mouth lifted in a small scale as he reached out for his phone that rested in the middle of all. He'd casually scrolled with his other hand,  searching for something through the gadget he held. Ought to plan upon buying something which wouldn't have probably cost a lot if he would consider all the cash he saved through his life and Gojo whom had been one of his financer as well.

"There's actually a gadget to keep you from being bothered over this whole translation issue. I think it transcribes words quicker. It can be entirely useful especially when Gojo-Sensei isn't around. I can search it up for you,"

Unbeknownst to everyone, Nobara had been secretive upon grabbing her own chopsticks and giving the meal a bite. Consumed by the intrigue that kept her in a fretful manner, sagacious to have made her act upon her impulses. Much to each heedless distractions, you haven't noticed she ingurgitated a continuous amount of noodles that went straight past her mouth while you were busy talking nineteen to the dozen with Megumi who still had this faint smile upon his face that happens once in a blue moon, your boisterous guffaws reverberating through the roof as Yuji was messily pigging down the noodles like a famished child.

In just one bite, Nobara seemed to button her lip. Her mouth in a tight thin line and hair weighed down for nobody else to see. The mystified shadows in an awning, capped for shade of any  emotions to be seen or assessed from her. The three of you had become aware to her sudden change of behavior when you've heard her quietly mumble down a name that was beyond your ken.

"S-Saori-Chan."

What came with the mention of that name thereafter was a silent sob that heightened everyone's attention.

"Nobara?" you sincerely panicked, nimble fingers reaching to scratch along your nape and not knowing what to do from her sudden mewl. You've jumped down along your bar stool, traipsing to pad over beside her. At a stroke, taking the bowl away from the female Jujutsu Sorcerer. You'd probably had a mistake over the ingredients or she had some sort of allergy as your mind raced to read between the lines from her abrupt change of spirit. "I'm sorry---was your bowl of noodles not good? Maybe it's because it took long to be eaten? I can cook it again or make another. You should've just told me if you had allergies for a certain ingredient or what---"

Upon getting to a tizz, your panic-stricken self were interrupted when Kugisaki had whisked the bowl away from your reach, not wanting for you to take them away from her. Thus, her next words; the epithet that left her lips; a specialized epithet made for you by Yuji that has just been used for the first time in forever from the grade-three Jujutsu Sorcerer, her ceaseless desire to provide the antipathy she has given you; the impression that she held repellence over your guts or presence surprised everyone in the kitchen.

"Eigo-San." Nobara settled to use, uttering the sobriquet firmly. She looked vacantly into the bowl she touched and partake of, an affable beam now drawn upon her lips as her tears were quick to be cleared off as if there hasn't been a trace at all. 

Her next query---or rather it sounded like an objection over hunches that Megumi had initially persisted to question you in. The first inquiry held a tinge of dispute worth to be argued for. Nobara shifting upon being an advocate for you which left everyone aghast. This moment definitely being an eye-opener. 

Kugisaki's blunt inquiries that nobody needed but deeply knew that it was what their subconsciousness wanted to ask especially after tasting the first dish they have crammed down from you.

"Would you be leaving once Gojo-sensei's done with you?" pause. "---can you not leave our world after giving what he needs?"

Without knowing Fushiguro's primitive thoughts a while ago, those noodles he'd eaten have been a reminder of his step-sister named Tsumiki Fushiguro who has been cursed and fell into a coma. Your special ten minute worth of ramen noodles for Satoru's students seeming to be aides-memoiresof someone who had been dear to them, individuals that they have cherished for years end which kindles their motivation to strive harder through the difficulties that the Jujutsu Society have been throwing upon their feet, gradually preparing them for a rough destiny that they might not be entirely prepared for.

Satoru will be back for the next chapter! 

SEND AN ASK?

[sqtorus]

bratty

your best friend takes you up on your offer and puts you in your place ’cus you just can’t seem to shut up.

character ▸ satoru gojo

wc ▸ 0.8k

contains ▸ nsfw / fem!reader / virgin!reader / bratty sub!reader / mean dom!gojo / dubcon / petname (good girl) / slight choking / slight dacryphilia (?) / brat taming / fingering / implied virginity loss / slight overstimulation / begging / all characters are 18+ / mdni

it’s nearing midnight when you’re hanging out with your best friend. laying in his bed and listening to gojo as he’s been talking your ear off, bragging about how easy he bagged a girl, you can’t help but roll your eyes for the nth time this night. “satoru, shut up,” you groan, “i don’t care about your latest fuck.” you stop scrolling through your phone after you hear him scoff, but ultimately decides to keep his mouth shut.

you feel like messing with him a little. “satoru,” you begin, waiting before you carry on to see if you have his attention.

“hmm?” he doesn’t face you, playing with his own phone instead.

you continue, “have you ever even made a girl come before?”

gojo stops in his tracks. after a pause, he turns to look at you incredulously. “you fuckin’ with me?” he sounds unamused.

“sorry. hit a nerve?” you offer him a small, apologetic smile, but he sees right through you.

with a pointed look, he decides to play along for a little. “what gives?”

you act like you’re pondering, shrugging your shoulders eventually, “dunno. you jus’ seem like it. like, all talk, y’know.” gojo keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t say anything. this motivates you to push his buttons even more. “maybe i need to see it for myself,” you drawl, and a giggle escapes your lips.

“don’t push it, y/n,” gojo warns you, but you disregard his warning.

“sa. to. ruu,” you taunt back instead.

“y/n.” he’s being serious.

you falter for a second, but the devil on your right shoulder convinces you, what’s he gonna do?

“maybe you should fuck me. just for proof, of course.”

“oh?” his voice lowers an octave.

you shoot him the most innocent smile you could fake. “you won’t do it, though.”

“’m getting real fed up with your shit, y/n.” he stands up from his desk chair, and, in two strides, he’s standing at the foot of his bed.

“sat—” a gasp leaves your lips as gojo cuts you off by roughly grasping your ankles, pulling you close to him. he’s towering over you, both hands on either side of your head now, successfully caging you in. the bed dips lightly as he places one knee next to your thigh.

“talkin’ so much shit for a damn virgin.”

.・゜゜・

now he’s two fingers in, moving agonizingly slow. he tells you he wants to be gentle with you, that he’s doing it for you. and you’re under him, a crying, whimpering mess, taking what he gives you. but you know he’s lying, and he proves it to you. he is so mean.

you open your mouth to speak, but he’s faster than you. “maybe this will shut you up, since you always got somethin’ to say, huh?” his hand moves up to your neck. swift fingers apply light pressure to the sides of your neck, effectively blocking your blood flow. “satoru, shut up. satoru, ever made a girl come? satoru, fuck me.” he’s mocking you. with every sentence, his hold gets a little tighter until he finally lets go of you. tears threaten your waterline as you gasp for air. he pays you no mind, though, even if you’re glaring at him. as you calm down from your small coughing fit, he abruptly stops his ministrations, making you wail out in frustration at the sudden lack of pleasure. you try to buck your hips but to no avail. his free hand holds you in place. when he feels you’ve stopped trying, he shifts his hand to let his thumb rest on your clit, yet not with enough pressure for you to feel something.

he’s looking down on you. “say it then. say my name again.”

“… sat-satoru…” you whine, tears fall freely down your cheeks, and a pout forms on your pretty lips.

“fuck,” he lets out a low groan. “had so much to say earlier. what happened to that big mouth of yours, huh?” all you can let out are small whimpers, and at the lack of response, he lets out a displeased hum. “hey. c’mon, say something… tell me you’re sorry.”

you can only mewl, “no… no.”

“fucking brat,” he spits, fingers start to move again, and his thumb is rubbing soft circles on your clit. still slow, but with the added pressure, you’re seeing stars. “beg. be a good girl for once. do it for me, and beg. then maybe, i’ll fuck you properly, yeah?”

you give in. “satoru, please. sorry, i’m sorry, please?” you’re babbling, sentences becoming incoherent.

he grins, satisfied with your pleas. “not so hard, was it now? good girl.”

sry i half assed the ending so bad lol <3

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension (Chapter 7.7)

7TH DIMENSION MASTERLIST

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 7.6

7TH DIMENSION WATTPAD VERSION (I am entirely ahead on this application now. 7th Dimension in Wattpad has now accumulated more than 10 chapters. There are minimal scenes back in the previous chapters which has been altered there, so sorry about that to those who only read my updates through Tumblr. Heehee.)

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: (Part 8) Mind Training with Gojo Satoru had been beneficial to the both of you. You were given a mission to bake him sweets and in return of earning a 10/10 rating from the Great Teacher Gojo would result for a Shopping Spree treat from the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive. Additional Summary for this chapter: Bound to take sketches from your dimension to theirs. Howbeit, was it also possible to acquire pictures from Satoru's dimension back to yours once you have the chance to go back?

Warnings: Fluff chapter ahead? | This is quite cute---made me punch the walls for a while because how I'm caught smiling every through it all. Satoru's being so adorable and annoying at the same time. Like---*kicks my feet in the air* 

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to be posted here in Tumblr when it has already been published in Wattpad back then. I apologize!

7th Dimension Taglist: @dailystsg

SORRY IF THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS IN EVERY CHAPTER I WRITE. I ain't a professional writer! I'm just a potato-hoe! Please do let me know (Send an ask) if you wanna be tagged on this multi-chapter fanfic, bb's!

Words: 5.3+

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits, also those posted are not mine especially the GIF's. (I dunno how to make GIF's 😭) I only own the plot of 7th Dimension. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline and the characters themselves. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be for the sake of the story.

GOJO SATORU WAS LEFT GLARING and scowling over a white, mammoth plushie that you were holding to yourself. It covered the entirety of your face, mantling a lot that were of displayed for people to see your expressions. The stuff toy had been hilarious to look for his standpoint because of how much of a giant it was.

Comical yet irksome somehow in certain sections that he had been heedless of.

Satoru was scooched down before you. Long legs on either side of him along with his elbows outstretched that topped above his clothed knee. Kooky as the image was while he gave the plushie an overcritical scrutiny. His notions consisted of cavils and a fraction whispers of complaints over the adorable soft toy you were strangling to death.

"Ah, out of all the choices you've picked, it had to be a large stuff-toy. You could've just asked Yaga to make plushies for you instead." he blatantly complained, pulling a face of disgust for the soft toy you held.

Was he hating the idea of acquiring the said prize; the twee image it was giving, the pleasing reactions he was receiving upon being rewarded by his abundant tickets that has been given to you, or the self-contained fact that you were conferring all your attention over a non-living soul other than the man you were with today?

Satoru was left in a muddled, grumbling mess. Subliminal words garbled to entertain himself as he watched and observed how you were behaving for the plushie.

Those melodious, littlest squeal that momentarily slips in between your mouth, it sounded suppressed as if you did not want Satoru to have the idea that you were utterly mirthful for a soft toy he had been giving glares upon, not wanting him to rejoice for his duck-soup gift he had effortlessly obtained from the basketball arcade.

To no use of restraining those sounds, Satoru could technically hear it all because you weren't actually being furtive at any rate.

He'd heard another teeny-weeny giggle. Another aberrant sensation that was gradually slithering in an unknown crevasse that resided within parts that weren't meant to come upon. This anomalous situation felt like a confined room ought not to be visited, probing it to be a perturbing hullabaloo as Satoru sees fit. 

Your tittering felt like a pesky mosquito buzzing through his ears. One he'd allowed to fly; juxtaposed where one that he'd also allow to swig his own blood on because he knew it was you.

An off-the-wall metaphor, but it was really the exact feeling you were giving.

Pale as snow. Its face outlined to be chibified in a pattern and a way where Japanese artists are notorious over designing such cutesy patterns. Satoru did not despise adorable stuff. In fact, he also had the partiality for dainty things. Everyone who surrounded him had described him to be an utter man-child. The facade he always flaunted towards all and sundry. He relishes upon souvenirs to be given to those he genuinely cared about. Materialistic as he was deemed to be; his thoughtful temperament that individuals brush off due to the constant antagonizing repartees that left his mouth whenever he couldn't resist.

Yet, this Neko plushie---a damned white cat stuff-toy that you've been regularly giving heed to every second that passes by---Gojo was finding it inconvenient somehow and he couldn't explain why.

"You even had the choice for it to be cursed too." The white-haired sorcerer added another self-thought whisper, not risking his nonchalance through it all. He'd subtly taken heed prior to your response before obtaining the said prize. How you've both jabbered away on the notions for Jujutsu left you on the authentic side. All words that slipped past your mouth after it thronged and dripped in exasperation.

Gojo discerned it to be an honest-to-goodness section---once you were nosy towards a particular subject, you wanted to have the exact details upon it. A thorough run-down that all your questions should be provided with answers because if you were left dissatisfied, then you were guaranteed to be ticked off on a certain amount of time. The sort of infuriation that weren't meant to be dismissed. This was a miniscule portion of an attitude he learned afresh.

Therefore, this lead on to Satoru constantly being tenacious over chanting the sobriquet he had for you, over and over again until you've both reached the front of the line because of how you've went uttermost hushed after firmly calling him an idiot for not explaining well.

It was the intentional quietude that he was not used to after hours of throwing wisecracks upon wisecracks with him; the tiny crease that pinched in between the furrow of your brows, the vague squinch of your nose when you've momentarily have given him the cold shoulder.

Hence, for the first time ever---Satoru felt awkward upon how to react or inveigle you out of your raffled state when he wasn't even trying to rattle your cage. This was the type of ineptness that he desired to be fleeting, a fugacious feeling he believed it to be because of his lukewarm attitude he always had in regards to his continuous jests and quips he'd been giving and receiving with people---though, much to this forsaken oddity with you, it has given him nothing but an augment of necessity to keep you on a rather upbeat mood no matter how he was also hooked on your chagrins. 

The gaucheness has been like an itch he couldn't tolerate but to scratch to lessen the peculiar prickles.

Satoru's knuckles now rested upon his cheek as he squatted before you. His gaze persistent upon judging the entire scene behind his Stygian sunglasses, currently giving the unlucky Neko plushie his captious daggers. He'd went on upon his piped down bleats, ought to avoid taking another route to your strange unbearable noiselessness that he lowkey disrelished.

This made it seem like keeping you illiterate on the basic terms of Jujutsu and the useful history he could provide you with was better left unsaid if you were guaranteed to be constantly coaxed out of your authentic petulance. Although, everyone knew for a fact that Gojo's mouth wasn't one to be ceased even if it was amplified down to a level that he, himself could only be heard.

He remembered correctly that he had taken at least a bunch of 'Tiny-Chan~' and a covenant to buy you another ice-lolly---which you had endlessly pestered him to be of blame because of his loutish manners to leave all the paper bags to you, preliminary to the moment he had snitched them off your hands after the call with Ijichi. It has taken a sheer promise of another sweetened popsicle that Satoru was also inconspicuously anticipating to buy for himself as well before you actually and finally acknowledged him.

But then, somehow---he questioned himself on the idea if he was really an actual idiot because it felt like you've just baited him to actually give something you liked in return. A mischievous stunt that you actually pulled through that tiny height you had which the heavens had unfortunately bestowed upon you.

"---Or another Mike-o Wazowski you've described cursed-spirits to be. I should've just brought you a cursed-spirit then. You might have found them more adorable. Hehe. Although, I doubt you would if I actually bring you the ugliest ones. Your reactions might be hysterically funny to catch sight on, to be honest."

"Satoru, you've been mumbling nonstop like a weirdo and acting so hostile over my cute plushie when you've been cheating this whole time. I told you, I had to have the last pick because of your Infinity shenanigans. Might as well deal with it." you've went on and stated with a heavy stand. Hell-bent for the idea that he cheated and used his abilities all the while especially through the basketball game.

"Infinity shenanigans? quite a low-blow to put my innate technique into words, huh? It doesn't even work that way like how you're imagining it to be. Psh---," he skeptically scoffed, your opines difficult to digest for Satoru's proficiency towards the essence of Jujutsu. The idea you had for his abilities pooh-poohed by the strongest, "---I've been telling you a ton of times already that I wasn't cheating too!" Satoru exclaimed further like a child, exasperated for your stubborn opinions. 

You've given him a quick glance over his expressions, peeping through the top head of the plushie and was welcomed by the image of him, sporting an animated grimace other than those grins, smug smirks and smiles he consisted every second of the day. 

The bond you had today with Satoru swotted you in further analysis of his personality, attitude and characteristics. Satoru Gojo comprised more than what a person's first impression would obviously analyze him for. Arrogant. A menace. Playful. Vain. To all intents and purposes, he consisted of vast multifarious dispositions that made him more expressive, appearing to be more than what you've perceived him to be. Shrouded behaviors that he probably didn't mean to convey for an unidentified woman which expected to return to her rightful dimension once the deal was done for.

When the subject matter was about his students. Satoru switches into a meditative, pensive state that you never knew he comprised of. Shocking you to say the least because you've quickly understood that he was utmost considerate for their well-being and fostered for their development and mental protection.

Mental protection. How could you have said that?

Satoru made it clear that he did not want his students dwelling on the future that you were fated to undergo once the healing process for your amnesia takes it place. His students weren't duty-bound to take a part in this business you were having with him.

Hence, adding more facts about your learnings through his behavior, you've raised a thought that he didn't just had grins and cherub smiles. Satoru was capable of owning scowls that made him look like a child which can be tempted enough to taunt further for his dislikes.

One that made you want to continue and just annoy him further. The kind where you were also having the jollification over his annoyance.

You stifled your giggles and smiles, biting your lip as you did so when he'd briefly looked away. He was striking on the perception that he appeared to loathe on such a harmless, voluminous Neko stuff toy you were holding.

The paper bags that were filled of bits and bobs that Satoru has bought you for today were situated beside him, your unshakeable aspiration over taking the plushie as a prize clearly had brought you and Satoru on a lenient verbal debate over which was better to be taken as winnings. You've had the choice of choosing a gadget---an excellent exchange of a Nintendo Switch that would've been handy and could have answered to your boredom. Your phone still being held for safekeeping with Satoru that you highly believed it wouldn't be sheltered from how nosy he was. Bearing in mind, back at that Hatagaya incident that he had already chosen and took a picture of himself---setting it as your wallpaper for no damn reason.

You've staunchly expressed your disapproval over the Nintendo Switch because you've noted how it came with no free games, your rational thoughts processed that you would eventually entreated Satoru to purchase them again for you, leading you down into adding more shameless debts or dues that made you diffident for the pampering he'd allowed you to shower in. 

Was he always like this with everyone? Acting like money has never been a problem to him? 

The white-haired cyclops knew that it's what you were thinking---assuring you further that he would buy every game you wanted because he would much prefer it rather than having to carry everything that he bought for you.

However, you've held your grounds and chose a prize where you would've stumbled foolishly over and over again if he wouldn't lend a hand upon carrying all the things he procured.

Perhaps, he had mollycoddled you a little too much today.

It would've been a comical occurrence to see you miss your footing every once in a while, but Satoru let it slide.

Surprisingly so.

The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer being a porter; a cargador. The honored one carrying all the items you've taken at least two to three seconds of staring upon pieces he subtly felt that you've had a thing about then evade from purchasing because of your self-effacing behavior over knowing that it wasn't your money to start with.

In which Satoru had eventually whisked everything he'd identified you've looked on with favor. He was caught on to be reflecting upon his actions whenever you were both outside, leaving stores upon stores---ruminating why he was overindulging to your non-verbal requests when you weren't even saying a word nor made it obvious that you wanted them in the first place.

"Whatever. Besides, this large cat plushie looks like you, don't you think? I'm designing him soon..." you've chewed the cud; the threshold of your consciousness being babbled. Simultaneously joining in the hubbub of laughter and shouting that reverberated around the arcade establishment, mixing in.

Bringing the stuff toy down, you've peek through the head again, regarding Satoru and seeing that he was murmuring incoherent words you've not caught on again. His long fingers scratching the back of his head and coming across as though he wasn't listening to any of what you've muttered.

What was he even saying?

You've shrugged his strange behavior off and blinked to yourself. Keen eyes ferreting around the arcade as if there was one thing you had to do more.

Whereby, this sense of surveying for each booth or games landed on one. A separated kind where it didn't consists of spunky, virtual battles and artificial combats of versus fantasy characters. This stall was created and functioned to be used as an arrest of souvenirs that were worth to be photographed for; to capture memories worth to hark back for.

The Photo Booth.

Was it also possible?

Those subliminal thoughts stressed upon the question, brooding over an idea that was possible but also impossible at the same time. Your hushed questions had become fervent, dropping down one or two at a time inside the back of your mind.

If you were given the chance to finally come back to your dimension, would it be possible to have your own sketches as well? Or rather pictures that would be of evidence or a reliable documentation that everything that happened today has been a bona fide memory. A remarkable and uncanny fate that no scientist could have an answer to back on your world, not even the person who had the highest IQ would get to elucidate or refute to.

Living in another world you've found to be freakish---otherworldly in a broad amount of facts because the people surrounded you had been defined and distinguished to be beyond normal. This was another universe where you've actually had a profound purpose---hapless to have a chance to find value over something that you had no idea with right at this moment because of an accident that destiny bequeath upon.

Or would this just be an evanescence bubble of your own imaginations, forged and fictitious to hurt you in the end because there was more to this so called providence you believed in?

Was it bound to give you agony?

Despair?

Woe?

Or happiness?

Were you transported to keep one and all to their befitting, auspicious future that you could uphold upon cursed, miserable claims of expectations that you would foresee soon?

"Hey, Satoru." you've lightly mused on, tone sounding to be as if you were deliberating on the spontaneous idea, "---If I finally have the chance to go back to my dimension, do you think I could bring pictures with me too?"

You've looked vacantly over the booth just meters ahead from you. Your abrupt inquiry catching Satoru over stumbling on his own feet through his own ruminative thoughts. He'd blinked from behind his sunglasses, breaking off from his dwelling and swiftly standing on full tilt. His height back from being lofty rather than sitting on one's haunches in such a silly manner.

The question deserved at least a second before he reconsidered. He hummed through his logical thinking and cocked his head to the side. One arm crossed over his clothed chest, supporting his elbow that rested on his closed fist. The other hand positioned underneath his chin, thick thumb and forefinger squeezing upon his cheeks that compressed his own skin. Luscious lips unconsciously jutted out, in which you had never gotten a mental picture of on account of your own distractions. A fetching and appealing sight you've not have gotten a chance to see.

Satoru's gaze went elsewhere, intently mulling on your suggestions and speculations like it was worth enough to change the world. 

"According to your experience, by the sketches you've had from your dimension and to ours. It might be doable---Oi, Tiny-Chan!"

Without any fuss or delay, caught in your own excited bubble, you've began to tug onto the hem of his leather jacket, immediately and excitedly pulling him towards the booth. He'd let you pull him over, welcoming you both in a teeny-tiny space, not giving an ounce for a whistle-stop through your abiding elation he'd apprehended. 

Satoru has given you a look, expectant that you were going to put the damned, large stuff toy down but before he knew it, you were already tugging the black curtains open and plonking along the seat. The confined space making it impractical for Satoru to even manspread or accommodate himself if another long-legged man was to be present. His lanky height making it nonviable for you to move comfortably unless he would squeeze in and be cooperative to make the most out of the cramped space. 

The photo booth was made for 3-4 people. With Satoru's fit built---his broad shoulders, back and stubborn thighs and legs along with his uncompromising behavior, this booth was made to be seated with him and you alone.

Howbeit, an inanimate object just had the luck to take his rightful area. The space that was meant for him. 

Satoru's face briefly fell at that. The plushie receiving a dirty look from the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer alive. 

You were sliding in the game card as Satoru yanked the black curtains open, bending down from behind the opened hatch as he held the blinds open. You hadn't caught on the hasty disparaging glimpse he'd given towards your plushie. A fleeting lour that pulled the ends of his lips down as if it was the most ignoble thing he'd seen that was positioned neatly with ease. It's chibified face being a mirage that reflected upon his sunglasses, the figment of his imaginations hearing its goody-goody laughter; his well-deserved area that a lifeless soft toy had unconsciously snaffled. 

"You bringing that in? can't you see how minuscule this is for the both of us?"

He was bending his height down to a level, taking a glance to see you struggling to comprehend the Japanese letters that appeared on the monitor screen, your forehead scrunched in a way that tells Satoru how you've not understood a thing or two. You've complained back at him, holding a hand out protectively over your large Neko stuff toy while your pointer finger chewed on what to initially press upon the screen.

"Well, I'm not forcing you to join me---," Pause. "----You wait outside then. He's not leaving my side."

Satoru couldn't help but raise a brow at that. The simple action worth to be expressed as a 'I think the fuck not' or an utter non-verbal quip of an 'Excuse me? you just did not say that to my face.'

Gojo firmly shook his head, emphasizing the whole idea that he was not letting it happen, not in a million years would he let a plushie win over his supposed to be side of the cramped room, "Ha! Nope!" he popped the 'p' along his words, determined and bull-headed to join in the photograph, "---Not a chance! I'm joining in the picture! This is going to be futile. That thing needs to go,"

He quickly grabbed onto the soft toy. Satoru had haphazardly chose a section through the screen without even taking another look at it as he had two tasks at hand. One hand on the monitor screen while the other outstretched to reach for the lifeless dummy that was smirking through his illusions. He'd shortly glanced how the time started to run down in ten seconds.

"Fly high, Neko-san!" Satoru whisked the plushie beside you, tossing it out of the booth with no remorse. The white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer knew where it went and landed without paying any more regard to it.

"What the---! Fly high, seriously?! Did you just yeet him outaway like that?! What did it even do to you?!" you've hissed back at him, your eyes following suit as it went wide, peeping where your plushie went and flew behind him, it was precisely perched along the cluster of paper bags that you've both abandoned for the mean time.

The latter went to plonk himself beside you like a lightning bolt, squeezing himself in as the time already started. It was 5 sets of poses that should be accumulated within a 10 second smile. He'd taken up a lot of space that you were pushed to the sides, making you glower when his towering height wedged through like a sponge.

Straightaway, Satoru was already beaming through the camera, all wide and his teeth on show, coruscating as if it shined brighter than the sun. He'd lowered his sunglasses a bit right above the tall bridge of his nose, setting forth the Ether on view to be captured, posing for the camera when he'd noticed that you were glaring beside him. 

The white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer had raised a vague guess and thought that you were feeling uncomfortable through the cramped space that he recklessly reacted upon his careless reflexes, clinging his long arm around your shoulders, hanging loosely at first before he decided to bring you closer to his side in attempt to create the best set of pictures he could think of. 

You were shoved with the warmth in his bosom; warmth that could be defined as an oasis of serenity you never knew you've delved into. The plight of what your world has offered for you; the other side of the coin that Satoru established just upon hours of being with him. 

Was this also a part of his abilities then? Did it involve in manifesting you from experiencing idiosyncratic discoveries in such an amount of time?

"Tiny-Chan, Say cheese!" he avidly betokened, beaming through the camera. His amiable, snug gesture of enveloping an arm over your shoulder making you give him the heart-eyes, recreating the image of a smitten woman who peered up from his side, speechless as she appeared to be. The camera capturing a smiling Gojo while you, on the other hand, estimated to be like a twitterpated woman who was gawking whereas he had been on the contrary because the Satoru was utmost picture-ready.

It has been one of the the most effulgent smile on his face you've distinguished it to be. 

You've cleared your throat and blinked from your stupor when you've felt and seen the flash of the camera fill the booth again.

That was already two pictures then. 

The machine started to count once again. You were forthwith this time, consciously struggling to pull yourself out of your own reverie that Satoru have foolhardy pulled you in. A genuine smile on show, your eyes turning into crescent shapes; a harebrained impulse of an action---your hand collapsing to fall over Satoru's clothed inner leg, resting your palm over it.

Caught in the spur of the moment, it was simply just a gesture to maximize the jammed compartment that you were both situated in. 

Yet, Satoru's toothy beam minimally closed at that meek, soft touch. The congested area gradually becoming more confined rather than how it was supposed to be, garnering a dubious calefaction that he unforeseen, startling the strongest deep-within. 

That shouldn't have been possible. 

The camera flash flickered again. You were blind over how he was brought to a whim. This was already the fourth picture to the last. The machine seeming to be capturing you both in the midst of conversing at the present time. Definitely not the proper time to do so, but you've began to tattle towards the Jujutsu Sorcerer, gently nudging his leg over and over again to cut him off from his concentration and unusual pondering. The skin of your palm abrading over the fabric of his own pants.

Satoru had seen you pouting on the side through the camera screen. Your words even catching him more off-guard then ever, appealing as a subdued rustle of the wind. A whir of your words susurrating beneath your breath, "Why did you had to throw away 'Toru' like that..."

He'd turned his head at a break-neck speed from the unexpected epithet he heard from you, peering down to gaze over the space you were comfortably snugged in. Suddenly wrapping his mind on the proximity he'd set you both. An unfamiliar and foreign touchy-feely sense that was beyond for his ken.

Your focus had been on the camera that neared its countdown, deliberately ignoring Satoru on the side of the screen. The unsettling drum of your heartbeats thumping one by one in a pitter-patter as if it grew unbearable with each passing second.

You suddenly wanted this to be over with.

"Toru?" Gojo blinked through his sunglasses, repeating the sobriquet as a drone. A faint, soft whisper of incredulity, one that sounded too affectionate to be heard. It was probably another wild reflex but you've snapped your head to the side, giving your heed to him that you've lately realized the camera flash went off again to the both of you gazing into each other's eyes.

Those blest eyes that always yanked you out of your physical existence to bring you towards the celestial sphere.

"---You're calling that lifeless dummy over a nickname meant for me?" Satoru veiled his struck on sensibilities with a smug smirk and his notable complacent demeanor. 

Toru.

The sobriquet repeated like an echo within the deepest parts of an underground chamber, fawning over to forage the beacons. 

Bewildered. Be all at sea. Satoru Gojo had no idea why but he wanted to hear it again and again as if the nickname should have been fabricated for him and not for a exanimate plushie.

"I-I had it patented because I knew you were bound to upbraid and tell me that it had been bought by your abundant tickets. Psh. Don't get so full of yourself, alright?" you've clicked your tongue, flustered from the unpredicted choice of moniker created for your soft-toy. The diminutive passing out of your mouth of one's own accord. You've swatted his heavy arm off your shoulder, wrenching the curtains open and paving your way out of the booth.

Once out of the threshold, the photo booth becoming more confining, suffocating to the point that it would've been minacious if you've stayed longer. You've shrieked when you've seen how far your plushie really went.

"Really, Satoru?!" You've audibly cleared your throat, hearing a humiliating voice crack in between your exclamation as if it wasn't stable to begin with, marching your way over the Neko plushie that has been literally thrown to the sides. 

Waiting for the pictures to finish developing, you were holding onto your stuff toy for dear life, Unwary that the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer tarried a bit inside the compartment. Satoru had been sitting inside the booth for at least less than a minute now. 

You've seen his expensive shoes from underneath the pitchy drapes that you had to lightly kick it to shove him out of whatever he was doing inside. With pursed lips and kicking one's heels, you've seen the developed pictures when it finally dropped out of the holder.

"Hey, what are you even doing in there? you takin' your own selfies?" you've given his Adidas another light shove with yours, making him react with a short, distracted hum that vibrated through the core of your stomach, whipping up another tight hug around your plushie.

The developed pictures were now on your hands, your eyes briefly pausing at the particular, spesh one that made you covertly smile to yourself because of the flutters that the tiny, expanding butterflies aspired to give you from a indelible picture which has been your utmost favorite.

You subtly hoped Satoru was not one who's fond of keeping photographed pictures.

"Sa-to-ru! You suddenly deaf or what?" you were heedless of your beaming smile, the blood rushing through your face as you were downright elated over the developed pictures. Calling his name per vowel in an attempt to emphasize further. Eyes fazed, zeroed in on the snapshot at hand.

"Fine. I'm having all of this. It's not like you're bound to keep them anyways. You don't seem to be like that kind of person." It sounded like a bubbly judgement for him. Your smile now stifled, altered into an automated grimace when you've seen him emerge from the curtains. It was funny to see how such a towering lanky man had been inside the booth all along that your restrained laughter went nominal from the moment that Satoru has aimlessly grabbed onto the one you had bisected and chose as your copy. 

Did he just whipped the favorite one you've taken a liking to?

"Oi, gimme that." he quickly grabbed onto the picture you favored. The best one you've wanted to treasure. Your face falling when he was brisk enough to slip them along his side pockets, "---Did you just judge my personality, Tiny-Chan? Oh, you really wound me."

You didn't risk a chance. Under no circumstances did you try to even steal it back from him because Satoru was dead set to take his claim on that specific picture you've wanted to cherish. 

With an insincere smile pasted upon your face, you've grumbled through gritted teeth, "You really didn't seem like it. That's mine. Give it back." 

"Hm." Satoru's grins broadened, owning that impish expression which forewarned you that the white-haired menace knew it was a choice of your preference. The print that you were keen on keeping. "---Yours, you say?" Pause. "---How about a no? you've basically been judging my whole being since day one, so this is mine now for payback." 

Perhaps, digging through that deep-rooted bulwark he'd built, Satoru also held an adoration for the fresh portrait that were now kept inside his pockets. A photograph that has only taken a second of creating an apocryphal world that sheltered the actuality of his dimension, providing a bed of roses he'd not ever tolerated for once in his life. The inexplicable, nameless, undivulged will-o-the-wisp that he needed to evade from because if he'd stayed longer---the denouement would either be parlous or in the doldrums.

Don't be shy. Say hi? I don't bite. Heehee. <3 Will post the next chapter for this the day after tomorrow!

SEND ZE TATO AUTHOR AN ASK

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension | Gojo Satoru Multi-Fic (Chapter 8)

7TH DIMENSION MASTERLIST

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 7.9

7TH DIMENSION WATTPAD VERSION/LINK (I am entirely ahead on this site now. 7th Dimension on Wattpad has now accumulated more than 10 chapters even before I published this one tonight. There are minimal scenes back in the previous chapters which has been altered there, so sorry about to those who only read my updates through Tumblr because there might be some differences in Satoru’s characteristics which has been changed on Wattpad already, yet y'all are bound to read the altercations in further chapters. Heehee.)

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: A day spent with Satoru had built and concocted rainbows and butterflies. Until he had to pull out another mischievous stunt beneath his blindfolds that ticked you to the bones, leaving you in a flustering mess and with a broken promise that you've believed him to be ignorant of. Or so you thought?

Warnings: Gojo being Gojo. Quick story tellin' upon what happened during the intimate apparel moment you had with him that he has forced you in back on the previous chapters. LMAO. Maki Zenin has been introduced in this chapter. Gojo wouldn't be physically present for this chapter and on the next too. But he has his scenes. Heehee. Y'all better miss him when he comes back. We're giving the spotlight to his students for the mean time. Y/N, Y/L/N means the input of your name and then your last name. It's just for one dialogue mentioned by Megumi, though. Heehee. Megumi GIF's! <3 

A/N: Here's chapter 8 that I promised! If y'all have any suggestions for songs that are fit for 7th Dimension, please don't hesitate to comment, message or tell me! I'm open for any songs to listen to whenever I'm writing! <3 Thank you so much! Also wanna include a playlist chapter for this fanfic book we have. <3 

7th Dimension Taglist: @dailystsg (Send me an ask or message if you want to be added or removed, bb’s!)

FEEDBACKS HELP A LOT FOR A WRITER. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS MAKE MY HEART TINGLE AND SQUEAL, ISTG. 💙 I DO APPRECIATE THEM ALL. Your feedbacks and kind words makes me forget the fatigue that I'm in!

SORRY IF THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS WITH EVERY CHAPTER I WRITE. I ain't a professional writer! I'm just a potato-hoe! LMAO.

Words: 6.8k+

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits, also those posted are not mine especially the GIF's. (I dunno how to make GIF's 😭) (Other Megumi Fushiguro GIFs are from ydotome here on Tumblr! <3 Credits to the users!) I only own the plot of 7th Dimension. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline and the characters themselves. OG characters are created by me and will be stated during my brief author's notes. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be for the sake of the story.

"GO-JO SA-TO-RUUUUU! WHERE-THE-HECK-ARE-YOU-HIDING?!"

Per vowel had been a heap of emotional amalgams. Those of which considered sentiments of a shamed woman. You've run an expectation from the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer, wrapping your mind over the experiences and bond you had with Satoru Gojo. His arrogant and cheeky character being brought to light after such an enthralling engagement of a day. This mental picture you had of him bordered with rainbows, bliss and dreams---that was merely fictitious.

For the reason of one stunt he mischievously pulled today. Those impressions had been thrown in the dumps, tied along through wraps of dark, sable plastic bags and had been chomped by disgusting rats.

A fantasy that should've been considered as your hapless delusions.

He'd made you eat crow, his actions placing you in a seat filled with abash and realization that those conceptualization will forever just be a folktale ought to be a thorough fib and a shaggy-dog story.

In account of Satoru's stunt that he just pulled under those foolish clothing that covered his damn heavenly eyes, you were going ape. The anger seen from Inside Out that was shown and created by Disney had been an elaborated representation of who you are right now. The Tiny-Chan who'd went berserk and trying to pin-point where your target was.

You were obviously the victim here. It wasn't Satoru, no.

Hence, standing in the middle of a large track and field wasn't enough to track down the menace. Once you were in a towering---tiny rage and in ones chagrin, the determination was set unrelented. By hook or by crook, you were ticking this down on your bribery notes you had for Satoru. Alongside, thinking of his broken promise as another of your protection rackets you had for him.

"I'M BURNING YOU ALIVE, YOU ANNOYING BLINDFOLDED IDIOT! JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE!"

In the midst of rousing from your day. The sunlight irradiating panels of warm beam across your face despite of remembering how you've left it closed last night. Your wonderment quickly has been given an answer to when you've been greeted by your stuffed cat toy who was neatly placed on the end of your bed. You were still sleepy-eyed, blinking through your awakened slumber. Blurry vision adapting along a morning you've hoped to be peaceful even just for the time being.

Just for at least the moment you haven't stepped foot outside Satoru's dormitory room because he might be lurking around somewhere.

Yet, the hope has just been a chasm of shattered dreams when your prized possession named 'Toru' had such a patterned, flowery piece of Granny-panties worn across its head; delineating it as a form of blindfold---much to his sheer jolly and persistent belief that you've chosen the white cat in hopes of remembering him when he wasn't around. It stretched across its poor head, squeezing it as if 'Toru' was being suffocated.

Death from Granny Panties it was then.

Waking up to that alone was enough to consider why you've even thought that Satoru was capable of holding a green flag alongside the red.

But, you were caught raising the red flag and probably screaming his full name on your pillow when you've seen a pre-recorded device that rested upon the bed-side table. Curiosity killed the cat---it even spoiled the broth; the fantasy of a dream you've wished to have once you've pressed play.

Thus, through gritted teeth, you've listened. The device being placed on your ear and you've felt a mixture of emotions rush through you. "Now, now. Don't be shy---," Satoru's recorded voiced inflamed the ignominy of a half-meant blague, egging on to the reaction he had gotten since that train escapades you both had. Not gonna lie, but he'd gotten you on the first half of his pause. His silvery pitch stimulating that warmth spreading through your belly when the second half of his pre-recorded message had your fingers tightly clutching onto the device like you were bound to hurl them away.

"---Feel free to wear it, Tiny-Chan. Hehehe. Don't miss me too much, alright?"

You were actually kicking your feet underneath the duvet like a spoiled and pettish kid.

Satoru even stoked your infuriation up. His stunts never ended with that. He was known to be ambitious, having this certain desire to top off more than what was expectant of him. You've thought he would've been lenient towards you, perceiving that mercy he had for his students had already been a special prize earned for you.

Yet, you were wrong.

Satoru had taken all of your underwear that has already been washed and were newly bought by him. The embarrassment you've gathered with every type of intimate apparel that he had criticized and joyously taken part in. Others being handpicked by the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer as if he acted that he would get a fortunate stroke of serendipity over seeing you in it.

You've convinced yourself that he was the financer and let him sort what he thought would float your boat.

His choices were safe because he'd taken at least every type and choice along the basket you've held. From an intimate apparel that you would surely wear till the peppery hot ones. Downright naughty and obscene enough for you to think twice, making you stop in your tracks as you've did a double take; a double-check on the apparels alone.

The blistering heat traveling towards your face when you've given each a thorough inspection, your expressions pulling your face into a blend of horror and embarrassment.

It was entirely surprising that despite of how he was haphazardly selecting which was which, the sizes were actually damn right.

Because the perverted idiot has coaxed you into telling your vital statistics to him.

He even got to the point of slipping a risquè lingerie without even being aware of it until it was finally in a heap of intimate apparels that the cashier has randomly dropped off in one go which earned a whisper grumble of your native language once you've deliberately took a side-step to hid behind Satoru's gigantuan height to cast a shadow upon your humiliation.

If only you were in your dimension---you wouldn't have been this much of a beggar.

This third stunt he pulled sent you in a fit of rage because he has left you with nothing but those Granny-Pannies he had worn over Neko-san. How maddened you were after seeing the drawer that were once filled with new set of undergarments after having a neat, calming shower and expecting that he wouldn't make your hackles rise more, you've completely underestimated the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive.

Gojo had left you nothing but those granny-pannies and a bra that matched with the pattern of it. Highly remembering that you had not bought nor had the possibility that he had slip them in the basket aside from the coveted lingerie you had no idea in.

Which resulted why you screaming your lungs out in the middle of Tokyo Jujutsu High's Track N' Field like a berserk woman, hunting down Satoru through high and low, knowing damn well that he teleports wasn't helping the idea that he did not want to be seen nor remembered the promise he made in the middle of your supposed to be slumber.

"Tiny-Chan!"

You were seated on the side of your bed. Ready to have the nap of your life when Satoru suddenly popped in like a bubble in front of you. The blindfolded man-child just used his teleportation abilities like he had already been using them from the start without prevarication. He was now garbed in his usual Jujutsu uniform. His Stygian blindfolds over his eyes as if he had work or had been working after that rendezvous you've had with him, this succeeding ventures had been after the meeting he had with that particular principal and the old man he was pertaining to back at the time being.

"What the---really!---don't you know how to knock, Satoru?!" you've held onto your chest, your heart beating fast and not knowing if it was because of the fact that he surprised you or was it because of his unsolicited presence around the room.

It was probably both. Since you weren't entirely acceptant over the idea that people had the privilege to pop around and second was the actuality that his presence alone had been too compelling for the heart that he was inured to this unwelcomed invite to his---well...---own quarters.

"Oi, Isn't this my room to start with?" Satoru retorted, sending the question back in a beguiled, contemptuous resonance of his voice. He'd brought a finger, pointing towards the ceiling to quip his sarcasm as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "---You're technically the trespasser here."

You've opened your mouth to speak but called a halt to it, giving him a shrug of your shoulder instead. This period of lethargy taking a toll on you, worn to a frazzle to even retaliate to his accustomed teasing here and there.

Again, this came forth to be the new normal for you when you've began to exhibit your presence from the moment you've stepped foot on Satoru's dimension. If earth---the one you lived in for years had everyone adapting to their dilemma of habituating to COVID-19's new normal--- Perhaps, in the actuality of Satoru's world, he was the plague needed to be adapted.

Such a wonderful, stellar, headache of a plague indeed.

"Whatever. It's like...past midnight already. What do you want?"

Satoru was wasting his time---your time---into hemming and hawing before actually being forthright, gaping up at the ceiling and trying to mentally word out what he wanted to say with a lingering hum. "Hm..." he trailed off, a thick finger situated under his chin while he began to mule over the idea he had, "I want breakfast tomorrow."

You've given him a lethargic blink of an eye, those random conversations and discussions you had with him seeming to bore inside your mind that you had to mention again, "I remembered you told me you knew how to cook on your own."

Hence, the white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer was---obviously---proud at that. Satoru even told you and by meaning of telling, he gladly emphasized that he could do a lot of things---Anything. Gojo bragged to make it clear, which is why it was making you wonder why you were being asked to cook for him aside from his sweets that he has always been selfish of, keeping them all for him to take and devour.

"Yep! Hehe. Your ruptured head's recovering then! I'm glad you remembered how I could do a lot of things!" Satoru chuckled. You've never noticed that he feigned the awkwardness that seem to strain along his words with a laugh, like a kid being caught for lying or for whatever he wanted to actually say.

"It's because you just basically told me about it this morning when we were out for shopping," you raised a brow, wanting him to continue further. A solid reasoning that could get you to say yes as you added, "---What's in it for me if I do so?"

That sounded like a curt query. The first dulled reply he had gotten out of you today. This out of the blue visit he had was eating away at him. Satoru was mentally blaming your obstinate reasoning over all. Whether you had trust issues, he had no idea. It appeared like you always needed evidences through your words---his words---to believe a fact. He seemed to be dwelling this casual conversation too much with you because of a timbre that he had an aversion to but he just could not get the proper words out of his mouth verbally tonight.

Did he do something wrong?

The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer began to putter around his old room, wandering towards a vacant area within his chambers that his own, impulsive footing has brought him in before he could even come to realize. He'd graciously leaned on the wall with the need to cross his arms in his snazzy posture.

"Well, I just want you to cook breakfast for me. Although, I'm not craving for anything sweet tomorrow. Perhaps, after. I probably would. So, what do ya' say, huh?"

Reveling more in such a sapped state made you more nonchalant than ever. The most offhand chatter he ever experienced with you. It made his lukewarm conversations he had with Nanami Kento sound better than this enervated discourse he was having. Had he visited you in a wrong time then? Were you sick? Had you experienced another mindwrecking headache again?

What was he even saying? His mouth forced the urge to frown from his concealed, latent thoughts. Another discovery, one that left him slightly perturbed through that sheltered cage he never wanted to rattle. Though, he'd also learned and caught sight of your bare, fretful toes shaded beneath the ends of your Pajamas that were of a flurry, grazing against each other as time passed by with him.

You were knackered and anxious at the same time.

"Kay, Satoru."

Satoru blinked from beneath his blindfolds, his hands that were now inside his pockets seeming to cease from aimlessly touching the fabrics and his possessions inside when he'd heard that totally bushed out whisper of yours, the bonny obedience---an off the record finding that he'd somehow perceived to be oddly captivating have dragged that significant heat towards that deepest parts of him.

It traversed towards bizarre points ought to be tinted in hues. This fuzzy feeling of his scattering in positions he was not ready for. An intricate sentiment that was filled of recondite senses; more so than what a battle of Jujutsu could ever bring him in.

"Kay? As simple as that? Uh---Alright, alright. You're not complaining this time? Not even a single one? No rebuttal or anything?"

He'd taken a fat pause, seeming to be taken to a spot that made his side unfavorable when it never---ever---happened before. Satoru knew he should've thought twice despite of not acquiring the said word from the dictionary. This whole weary discussion he was having had been purely adverse from his rash decisions of his inability to catch some z's since the last few months.

It had become dreadful. Tiring to be honest because the longest snooze he had was at least a maximum of two to three hours tops.

He was entirely aware that you were in your most jaded condition. Definitely a shedload of your pooped state that Satoru has encountered for the very first time. You were slothful upon blinking, cutesy as he ever did inattentively identified while waiting for him to say anything else. Was it this unsettling feeling that left him uncomfortable now when you weren't talking a lot?

Satoru Gojo wanted you talking. He was bent on for you to throw things at him. A tissue paper, a pillow or anything at least, much to his surreal proclivity. The white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer subtly desired for your piqued retaliations for his rash, annoying gestures and habits.

Yet, this wasn't what he has mentally pictured to be in when he had impulsively welcomed himself to announce his presence to your fatigued form.

"Don't forget to save a portion of meal for you too." Satoru added as a matter of fact, not getting the right words out of his mouth that earned an indistinct, shaky grin from the latter.

A tottering grin?

It was a far-fetched idea. One that was impossible for the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer but he felt it.

You raised both of your brows, certainly leaving you skeptical into thinking that you would cook only for him when it wasn't even his precious sweetmeats to begin with, "You think I'm going to cook only for you? Hey, I've learned from my mistakes over how you're not bound on sharing yours. You're an uncharitable, guy."

He chuckled underneath that subtle, miniscule, waver of his breath, "You sure know that only happens with my sweets, Tiny-Chan." pause. "---says the penny-pinching, parsimonous girl who's cheap as heck when it's not even her money to begin with. Look at all these bags scattered around." Gojo simply flicked a wrist to gesture towards the chaotic paper bags, those that were of a higgledy-piggledy mountain of them casted off on one corner. His slovenly speech continuing on, "---yet, to think that you're calling me uncharitable?"

"Oh, hush. I'm done arguing about that tonight. I'll deal with you tomorrow. Kay? Sweet dreams!" It was short. Blunt. Impassive which had been contrast to that keyed up heart dancing to the Macarena when Satoru had visited you during the night, unprompted.

This contrasting fusion inhabiting more to your jaded silence that waited with bated breath. You were trying to finish the conversation with him, his presence that has always created rattles after rattles for your heart. Every minute of the day and every time you were adapting, it seemed like it was becoming easier to control it all through an exterior, a veneer composure masked from the outside. But, in all sincerity---you were internally rickety whenever he was around and whenever you were entirely conscious of him.

With all possible haste, you've pulled the hem of the duvet over your head, turning your body away from the Jujutsu Sorcerer who tarried a bit longer than he intended to. He'd deliberated towards your answer that went straight over your shoulder, literally and figuratively. He'd stared with wonder, caught from the rude awakening that you've tried to cease in between the nightly discussion you were having with him.

Guess Satoru had to goof off on other things instead to surpass this insomnia he was having.

"E-Eh? But---you're gonna' cook breakfast for me, right?" his mouth was unable to fight the frown off his face from being shunned to the side, thwarted by the brief end of a conversation that he was experiencing from his Tiny-chan. He'd impatiently waited for a little while before gaining nothing but your intentional silence in return, "---It's a promise then! Goodnight! See you tomorrow! Hehe!" Gojo sent a feigned, final beam before he'd clasped his hands together, popping off like a bubble like how he'd popped in as quick as how he'd appeared was as brisk as how he had left.

You'd breathed out a sigh of relief, stretching out your folded, rubbery legs from the fetus position you were in once you were tucked in your own bundle of unpigmented color of a duvet.

Satoru simply did not want to eat alone. This anomalous instinct of keeping you around at all costs, seizing you under the tutelage of his influential existence. He actually had just taken a fancyto have breakfast with you and his attempt over saying the exact words were futile to his damned surprise.Though, he was satisfied over the results of this unwanted visit he planned because it still had you cooking for him, brewing another planned bonding and schedule of a rendezvous he'd covertly anticipated for.

Until his world needed him again and again, aspiring to pour cold water over this morning meal he had in mind.

"Megumi."

Maki Zenin, currently a second-year student at Tokyo Jujutsu High. She was born as a non-sorcerer in one of the Big Three Sorcerer Families and has been constantly mistreated which lead to her own ousting from the Zenin clan. She held onto her wooden stick made to use for training that hung over her shoulders. Her hazel peepers criticizing your form over the middle of the wide-reaching field, a nameless woman who was screaming where the heck was Gojo Satoru hiding.

Megumi sat along the cemented stairs, watching you with an impassive expression on his face. Probably judging why you were screaming in the middle of it all and was musing the cause through your rampage that was certainly out of the blue.

"Zenin-Senpai." he acknowledged her with a lethargic drawl of his voice. He was inert upon blinking to himself when they were a witness of those child-like stomps you were giving to the poor ground as you peered up at the sky. The next yelling filled with native phrases they couldn't decipher.

"Thought, I told you to never call me that," pause. "---There's a mad, foreign woman screaming the blindfolded dumbass's name like a haunted prayer."

Maki stated as a matter of fact, another one of Satoru's students who doesn't seem to respect him as a person due to his renowned very goofy attitude of his, even as he was her teacher and senior. The young second year student pondered upon who you were, "What did he do now?" she'd taken a pause, scrutinizing you from head to foot through her eyeglasses that allowed her to see cursed-spirits. She'd considered your height and judged your existence to be more on the younger side, "---Is she a new first year?"

"Huh?" Megumi was caught off guard at that as he had given Maki a glance, shaking his head to correct her, "---No. That's Eigo-San."

"Eigo-San?" she'd responded in utmost curiosity for the sobriquet given, her eyebrows furrowed enough to express her befuddlement.

"Y/L/N, Y/N." Fushiguro continued further, stabilizing the context of his information with the right details as he played with fingers, keeping them together as they've given you both their gazes. Gojo's name being repeatedly called out loud in the middle of all in piqued repetition.

"---A woman who happened to come from another dimension. No identity other than a name."

Maki has given him a glance of the dubiety for such a ridiculous viewpoint and theory. This source of amazement never to be expected by such an occurrence that was bound to happen, "Expect that you'll be seeing her a lot. She's always with Gojo-Sensei. She doesn't have a choice because she doesn't have anyone else aside from him."

She had her mouth ajar for a moment, trying to get that whammy of an information gradually taking its process inside her brain before she gave Megumi a grin, "That happens now too? Travelling from one world and to the other?---" pause. "---Is there actually another dimension aside from the one we're standing on right now? The world sure is changing then." Maki drawled the end of her words a little, disbelief framing her face as the wind hits her face. The short ponytail for her sage green hair that she'd fixed for herself swaying along the breeze of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

"It's only Gojo-Sensei who she understands miraculously. Though, he speaks the same language as we do. Then, vice versa. It's weird to say. Very." Megumi added another fact for her to get to know you better and be accustomed by the possibility that you would be seen around by hook or by crook. Sooner or later to be introduced to her because you were somehow always with their teacher 24/7.

"Any abilities she could wield?" she asked, curious and wondering if Gojo had taken you in the institute because you had a potential.

Maki was sure you had at least the idea of the Jujutsu Society or even the possibility you could train an ability. She hoped to train with you as well, probably play around a bit as she found you lowkey adorable for such guts over cursing Gojo's name like a haunted prayer as if you could even get to touch him physically. Never expecting such exasperation coming from someone so miniscule.

"Probably Gojo-Sensei's attention. She gets it all. He bugs the heck out of her whenever he could. If she's around, it's as if she's the only one he sees. Finally, someone who could keep him distracted besides annoying us all whenever he wants."

Maki snickered to herself. Well, that was an ability she'd never expected. It was a skill indeed. Probably a talent sent from the heavens above because everyone damn knew and was damn sapped from the sensei's constant need upon creating ruckus upon ruckus.

Everybody would get to have the break they deserved then.

"---Aside from that, none. She's a non-sorcerer but not an aspiring Jujutsu Sorcerer. Also, she seems to act like an idiot just like sensei from time to time." The people that Gojo antagonizes nonstop were probably applauding and cheering for your existence, perhaps kneeling before you like a gem sent from above, Maki silently thought to herself.

All those thoughts inside her head has been kept to herself as she silently listened and comprehended to Megumi's school of thought, humming to his response as she nodded, "Hm. Her existence is interesting then."

She thought he was done with his notions until Megumi decided to add more to his theories. The hearsays that begun since the moment you've been transferred to their world as Ijichi somehow had accidentally slipped an information out or two when he'd explained their latest assignments for them. During the middle of his drive, Kiyotaka run his mouth off before he could even realize that Megumi were critically analyzing through it all.

"But, I've...somehow gotten a gist of why she's being kept around, I suppose." he dragged on, hearing you scream another of Gojo's full name out in the heat of the sun, "---Gojo-Sensei believes that this woman might be a clairvoyant for the Jujutsu Society. I have no idea why so."

Maki's ears instantly perked up at that.

Without doubt, that sounded like a functional ability. Another skill that could be considered impressive somehow. Did you also have cursed energy? She had no idea over how your fortune telling worked and thought it through if there was one in the Jujutsu Society who held such.

"Eh? Think she knows my future then? Should I ask her? Would she be quick to give me an answer?" Maki smirked, skeptical that she wanted to have her palm be read by you because of her undying curiosity.

"---Does it require any amount of cursed-energy to be used?"

Megumi shrugged to himself, sighing at the less than fifty percent that it wasn't possible as of the moment, "No. I doubt she's bound to know even that. I don't have an idea upon how it works for her. It's like she doesn't also understand what's happening at all. Gojo-sensei never tells a thing. Plus, she has an intense amount of amnesia that he's trying to help her with,---" he murmured under his breath, making it sound like you forgotten how to use your abilities. Never knowing that your abilities---this ability he was saying actually only supported sketches and not actually being read through a tarot card or lines on a person's palm if it was seen solely as how normal people perceived fortune-telling to be within the conventional aspect of it, "---if he's even helping her..."

Maki pulled a face before she shrugged to herself, leaving the issue alone to the first year students who initially knew you from the start. You've held a permanent scowl to your face. It felt utterly blazing due to the anger and humiliation you were feeling. The intimate set being worn right now underneath your clothes because of Gojo's ruse to wedge you further into this displeasure he had stowed you in.

Maki Zenin noticed you were coming for them, starting to saunter near. Primitively deciding that you were walking to have a conversation with her second nephew who had already been talking to you and had exchanged discussions every once in a while. She'd completely wanted to avoid you for now, perhaps because of the language that she was not fluent with.

"The girl's coming this way." she simply stated, making Fushiguro grumble from how he was being caught in a conversation with you again, a grimace on his face when you began walking towards them while Maki was preparing herself to skedaddle, "---Eh. You handle her. Panda and Toge's probably at the entrance already,"

Panda and Toge were already at Itadori's room. She knew that and even told Megumi about it. That was when he knew that his aunt was lying and just wanted to avoid having a discussion with a foreign person she didn't know yet.

Upon garnering a closer distance, approaching Megumi and a young woman with a tall, athletic built that has instantly kept you beady-eyed for her appearance and stature. You've given the green-haired woman a look. She had fringes of her sage green hair over her forehead with smaller strands which framed her cheeks, another beauty just like Nobara whom you had no idea why she was all acting hostile for your presence since the moment you were both introduced.

You had no idea but this woman who began to advance forward, technically about to pass by just screams the capacity and the prospective into becoming stronger than she intended to.

Until the moment you've blinked an eye, you've felt as if a large stone was enough to keep your mind stumbling from the short, quick image. The sudden agonizing pain that pooled along your temples from a blurred, fuzzy scene along your head that was ought to be interpreted to obfuscate what it really meant. It was colored. One which appeared to be of concrete reality.

A woman who had her skin incinerated and flawed but was strong enough whom had a weapon on her hand. Accompanied with circled glasses and shortened black hair, partnered by a black uniform and a cape that was attached to her shoulder blades.

You've ceased along your march, not being called out through words but acknowledged by the green-haired girl with a subtle indecipherable smile. Those thoughts in the back of your mind, wordless to begin with as it echoed from within, "That's strange. She wasn't even short haired to begin with."

Was that her in the future? or was it a different woman?

You've felt warm, liquid pool along your nostrils. Before you could even realize it, this tiny amount of crimson fluid began to drip down in a creeping pace. Hence, that was the moment you've known that the woman you've seen inside your head was indeed, her.

She didn't seem happy at all from that particular picture and you had no idea nor have any theories about what happened and why she ended up that way. You've kept your mouth shut. This thorough dwelling making you mentally muse on the idea if it was needed to be told to Satoru when he wasn't even around to start with.

Was she one of his students as well?

"Are you okay, Eigo-San?"

You've heard Megumi asked. As genuine as he wanted it to sound to be. The impassive tonality still hinting more to this unfeigned side he was sporting on. He had begun to walk your way, catching you off guard to say the least as the first year student was being the person who'd actually approached you right now to initiate a conversation.

He'd turned the volume of his phone to the highest as Megumi used Google Translate for you. His clothed arm that was garbed in his accustomed Jujutsu clothing. The descendant of the Zenin family outreached to keep his cellphone closer to be heard and patiently waited for the translator to speak, keeping you under tabs as you have been wiping your nose in discreet. Though, he had already seen it despite of your desire to conceal it from the latter.

Was it because of the brain damage you've had and it wasn't entirely healed yet? Megumi thought to himself, keeping his hunches to his head.

"I'm...fine. It's just the after effects of the...accident, I suppose." you've began, making it sound like you were trying to convince yourself and not him. You've eyed the green haired woman who was now out of sight, continuously patting your bleeding nose with the back of your hand, lucky that it stopped as it wasn't an ample amount of liquid which needed any tissue or handkerchief. It wasn't the type where it could be considered as over the top. Just a minimal amount.

"Who was she? The...girl with the ponytail?"

Megumi blinked to your sudden query, brushing it off like it was nothing, clueless for those unforeseen nose bleeds and for what it meant behind it all aside from Satoru who knew damn well now that it consisted of the idea that you were seeing something that would be of use or had been images from their dimension in which he highly believed of, or that---in which he self proclaimed---to be a result of his attractiveness that was too hot to bear.

"Ah. She's my aunt. Her name's Maki Zenin."

You've given it a subtle nod of understanding. Wordless as you ever been when you've felt the pain finally fading away. Maki Zenin. Her name does ring a bell somehow yet you had no idea where and why.

It definitely sounded like Sushi though.

"Where is he?" that 'he' that you were pertaining to, Megumi instantly knew who it was and minimally elucidated for you.

"Gojo-Sensei? He went on a business trip." he phlegmatically responded. Nevertheless, subtly scrutinizing you from beneath his thick eyelashes that you were oblivious for because of his indelible, impassive expressions.

"But, he promised---" you started, your face falling when you realized that he would probably take longer than expected when Satoru was concluded to be in the midst of whatever business trip he was taking.

Was this rendezvous he planned could even be considered as a promise or a demand from the latter?

Your words were discontinued and Fushiguro wondered why it was. He decided to prod further upon the topic of why you were screaming like a banshee in the middle of Tokyo Jujutsu High, "Did he do something by the way perhaps?" Megumi eventually changed the topic, reading through your expressions that you weren't going to continue your previous sentence, "---You've been screaming his name at the top of his lungs in the middle of the institute."

Thus, suddenly you've felt your face began to rocket through this flustering heat when you've remembered the reason in the first place.

"Well---Satoru---and, Well...I---We---ugh---we had---well---we---" you've stumbled upon your words, ending with a nervous giggle that the Shikigami user eventually had criticized and given a weird look to it.

He had gotten the wrong idea of putting two and two together. Especially since the part where you pointed out that shaky, embarrassed 'He' and 'I' again and again through the sentence formed and declared for him to hear. His accusations definitely a wide off the mark from the veracity of things.

You've seen Fushiguro's mouth mold into a tight grimace, the most expressive you've seen him in that instigated to your perusal, your mouth pursing through this odd expression he was having. His face gradually turning beet red and you pondered why.

"Have you eaten breakfast, Megumi?" you changed the topic after a long awkward pause between you both. The embarrassment dying down from the speechlessness that has occurred, but it was giving the impression like your humiliation passed on towards the black-haired first year student.

Megumi was dealing with this sudden awkwardness that you were unwary of, "Huh?" he questioned, doing a double take as he was holding onto the upper part of his uniform jacket, pulling them further to his mouth, taking a grip from saying anything more.

"---Hm."

Your discomfiture was now changed into sheer curiosity for whatever he was thinking. You've given him a knot of your brows, a smile beaming on your face as you were spontaneous to decide for him, "That was a no then! Come on!" you've began to walk back towards the path back to Tokyo Jujutsu High, passing by the juvenile upon trudging up the cemented stairs that he has been sitting on beforehand.

You've heard no footfall coming from behind, instigating that the first-year Jujutsu Sorcerer was pensive over the whole turn of events. Spinning on your heels and paving to give your attention at Megumi who was on a deadlock, standing still upon where he stood. You've second look behind when he didn't plan to move. With a persuasive and enthusiastic wave of your hand, you've tried to prevail on the idea further.

This abrupt goal of sharing time together with one of Satoru's trusted students, coming through a forethought of seeking answers to your undying curiosities of what was really happening to their world. The accurate ones that were to be gainful rather than the terse statements and jokes you were constantly receiving from Gojo whenever you were intrigued by the whole Jujutsu thing.

You were staring back at Megumi when he was just silently staring at you, unable to tell what was running inside the young man's mind from all the apathetic spirit he was relishing on, "Sea-Urchin! Let's go then! I'll cook something for you!" pause. "---are you really this slow?!"

"Says the one who's extremely and quickly exhausted with just twenty steps away upon trying to run off from Gojo-sensei." The black-haired juvenile mindlessly thought on the back of his mind as he could recall the first time he had seen you all petrified after the tree-branch incident. 

Fushiguro began to wander towards you with thorough speculation. You were garrulous from complaining how unrushed he was. He strolled alongside once he approached near, his phone now laying upon the palm of your hand as you've randomly talked about a lot of your randomized perceptions, jibber-jabbering through it all that you've even got to the point of telling that Gojo did not take a fancy over his Shiitake mushrooms in which the first year student was slightly staggered to know.

You were in the midst of your footslogs with the sea-urchin when you've heard Nobara call in such a boisterous volume from a distance.

"Fushiguro!" Kugisaki hollered with knotted brows, a fixated grimace warped along the exteriors of her pretty face, those tangerine colored eyes of hers landed on you, getting a gist she was not delighted enough to be around your presence at this certain moment.

There was something with you. This comfortable but irritating feeling. From the beginning that Satoru has introduced you and announced your existence to be all over the place---basically, on every side where their Sensei would be. Since the Hatagaya cursed-spirit incident, his students were positive that you were of someone that would be held accountable for whatever he needed or see to be of benefit if he made it clear to aid you away from cursed-spirits.

One ought to be perceived as someone who needed saving. It was probably that idea in which Nobara felt the revulsion for. A whole contradiction to her character as she was known to be a confident and brash young woman with an unshakable personality who takes great pride in being both a pretty girl and a strong fighter. How futile you were in a world where women needed to be strong.

It just had to be a woman like you that was transported to their world for no reason that Satoru's students could ever predict of as they were impervious of the shrouded rationality that fate has bestowed upon you that Satoru was totally keeping behind closed doors even with the trust that he had for them.

Although, this privy comfort being familiar somehow made it displeasing for her. She just couldn't grasp around it or why she was even having the need to feel this particular way. Though, it was no use for her to blame you because you were---a person who shouldn't have been teleported to their dimension from the start.

Kugisaki Nobara had caught up to the both of you, passing a glance as if you weren't there and deliberately stood beside Fushiguro, avoiding to graze clothes with you as she has bothered to ask the first-year student. This query obvious to be sent towards her friend.

"Can I come with?"

"Expect that you'll be seeing her a lot. She's always with Gojo-Sensei. She doesn't have a choice because she doesn't have anyone else aside from him." I'm cackling with this. Megumi's being sassy again, huh? you didn't have to be so---HAHAHAHAH 

Also, don't worry. Nobara's going to warm up to Tiny-Chan soon enough.

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED EVERYONE! LOVE LOTS FROM YOUR MAMA TATA! <3  

SEND AN ASK OR ANONYMOUSLY FANGIRL WITH ME? HEEHEE

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension (Chapter 7.9)

7TH DIMENSION MASTERLIST

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 7.8

7TH DIMENSION WATTPAD VERSION (LINK)  (I am entirely ahead on this site now. 7th Dimension on Wattpad has now accumulated more than 10 chapters even before I published this one tonight. There are minimal scenes back in the previous chapters which has been altered there, so sorry about to those who only read my updates through Tumblr because there might be some differences in Satoru’s characteristics which has been changed on Wattpad already, yet y'all are bound to read the altercations in further chapters. Heehee.)

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: (End of Chapter 7. Part 10) Mind Training with Gojo Satoru had been beneficial to the both of you. You were given a mission to bake him sweets and in return of earning a 10/10 rating from the Great Teacher Gojo would result for a Shopping Spree treat from the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive. Additional Summary for this chapter: All good things come to an end. Yet, the days hereafter might hold something more for both. One which consisted of utter perplexity, interest and mirth rather than today. 

Warnings: Somehow kinda soft Satoru? I mean, you'll understand why. Tiny-Chan is being sweet through words? It's subtle though. This ain't fully candy-sweet yet and I'm terribly waiting for the moment they would be. (T_T) Just the word Damn? | Just imagine the bandage scene gifs included here are the ones he currently has. Not the ones he had via JJK0, alright? Basically, the black ones that he has right now is what he really have with Tiny-chan.

7th Dimension Taglist: @dailystsg (Send me an ask or message if you want to be added or removed, bb’s!)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS OR ANY SORT OF FEEDBACK MAKE MY HEART TINGLE AND SQUEAL, ISTG. 💙 I DO APPRECIATE THEM ALL. SORRY IF THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS WITH EVERY CHAPTER I WRITE. I ain't a professional writer! I'm just a potato-hoe! LMAO.

Words: 5k+

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits, also those posted are not mine especially the GIF's. (I dunno how to make GIFs 😭) I only own the plot of 7th Dimension. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline and the characters themselves. OG characters are created by me and will be stated during my brief author's notes. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be for the sake of the story. Please do not post/copy any of my writings/works anywhere.

THE SUNBEAM OF THE AFTERNOON SCINTILLATED THROUGH YOUR SKINS; the warm heat of the sun looming over you and Satoru, at odds with the brisk breeze as you crossed the threshold within the boundaries of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

It was a maunder through the pavements, mosey on up back to where you were guaranteed to be headed. Back at Satoru's sleeping quarters heisted for the meantime. This seemed like a thorough dawdle with the white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer. Worth to be painted a word picture of a leisure walk as if you weren't aware that Satoru was not entirely damned late enough for whatever meeting or assembly he had.

Needless to say, the latter did not give a damn or two on it at all; the negligence he had with time involve. You've eventually adhered to the necessity of his wanted presence, considering the idea that he was of paramount importance with the denomination he had been gloating, one worth to be printed as a front page headline of the newspaper like Spiderman has finally revealed his face to the world.

The Strongest. Two words. Twelve letters. It wasn't difficult to comprehend yet the description felt like the panjandrum of the century. Was he really the only one in his world? Did he not have a partner for help then or rather another person who was worth to be entitled as the second?

Satoru was ensured to be chastised that his dilatory punctuality had involved to be taken by an irrelevant woman in their world who'd just needed to be chaperoned out for shopping.

Everything had been equanimous walking through the borderline hills towards the institute; the quietude for Satoru's congenial company unusual to his incessant badinages sent here and there. This chop and change regarding with his behavior making you chew-over that he was reflecting over his own thoughts for whatever concerns or matters he was dwelling about. 

You knew you were on the sly upon giving him inquisitive ganders, sneaking glimpses walking alongside of him. Your face partially hidden behind the top portion of your Neko soft toy, over-scrutinizing this whole comforting tranquility that has been settled between you both when in fact, Satoru has been experiencing that zany, homely atmosphere again. The restful lull enwreath with amenity when he has held you in his arms back at that time during the Hatagaya incident for which always has him in a woolly thinking.

"Got somethin' to say, Tiny-Chan?" Satoru divulged to your incessant, sly glimpses. He spouted upon a question out of the blue, nipping in the bud of the silence that was starting to grow familiar as the clock ticked by. An over free sense that he'd ruminated for a time being; for a cordial tranquility he had not asked for; a sensibility that always leaves him feeling strange. 

"Huh? What do you mean, Satoru?" you've blurted out of the blue, partially lost in your own faraway land for a second or two, dubious that he was actually and entirely aware that you were sneaking in glimpses when he wasn't even looking at all.

"You seem like you have somethin' in mind, though." he bluntly put it that way, shrugging to himself before he pressed on with his candidness, "---unless, you're keepin' them to yourself? You do know you're bound to spit those secrecy of yours when I'm with you until you're aggravated enough to pull all of my hairs out. I'm not one to heap praise on any lie when it comes to you," pause. "---To put it simply, you're actually just beginning to stare a lot. Heh."

The white-haired sorcerer fiddled along the contents of his pockets. One hand aimlessly shoved inside as he gave a minimal smile that you've briefly laid your eyes upon. The other grasping along the handles of all your tremendous amount of paper bags that he surprisingly held for you. His focal point just straight ahead. 

With a scratch to the head, caught in an disoriented phase that came with a stutter from his frank mouth, "Ah---Eh---Hm, was I? Uh---" Peering up at him from the sides, the glint in your eyes irreproachable. A school of thought that calls into question for how their abilities functioned at all. The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer hummed in return to acknowledge you. His subtle genial smile relentless as he was anticipating your intriguing questions about Jujutsu every now and then during the day spent with him. 

To be honest, Satoru subtly hoped it wasn't one he'd experienced prior to when he felt strangely awkward. A weird fortuity he'd never been familiarized in because he was Satoru Gojo. He was a man; a shameless one to be exact. Yet, you have made him feel rather fiddly not long ago.

"---If you could actually teleport by the way, then why didn't we just---well, since you're late to whatever it is you're needed to go to..." You've consciously trailed off, thoughts going nowhere and not knowing if you were making sense, testing the waters upon a subject that has been outlandish when it would be engaged in a conversation back in your rightful dimension. One ought for humanity to interpret as if you were of cuckoo. 

To Satoru's world, it was simply a conventional, homespun scenario. 

"Ah, Spatial Manipulation, you say?" Gojo uttered as a matter of fact. The pitter-patters of his footfall appeasing to the rhythmic thrums of your heartbeat once you've apathetically responded. Pitch all wordly-wise for him to smirk on to.

"I've said what I said. Teleporting. It kinda' has the same function."

"To your sporadic brain and non-sorcerer perspective, it might be called teleporting. But, to us, Jujutsu Sorcerer's, it's Spatial Manipulation." his tone was jovial as he stood corrected, dancing along his words to your mullish prudence.

"Whatever you say then."

The latter gave a second through his brief deliberation, not wanting you to see that the question has caught him off guard. Your query being asked also to himself, yet he kept his cynicisms to his own, "Hm, First off, you wanted to take the train." he vaguely and quickly responded without any second thoughts. Before you could've opened your mouth to speak, he raced you off to your canny objections, "---Well, I assumed you were."

"But, you could've saved time?" Hugging the stuff toy closer to you. A knot upon your brows formed with your lower lip jutted out in a pout, mulling over the thought.

"Yet, isn't that what you wanted? To take the train?"

Satoru lightheartedly pressed on, repeating his latter sentence. It was giving off the impression that he was obstinate over his own opinions and was telling himself that and not to you. Thus, which held the furrow along your brows rather much tighter. Gojo appeared to be stressing on the idea or was probably just playing with you that he had to think you could also be one to blame for his intentional irresponsibility that he has welcomed to his harum-scarum ways.

You've reached a hand to scratch your nape, wondering why he was keeping the notion as a close-minded opinion, "I didn't actually say that---you know what? You're having a habit on putting words in my mouth. You just assumed I was because I haven't been to Japan. Ever."

"Ah, really now?" he sounded ingenuine as he asked, seeming to be feigning the skepticism and satirical sense of humor dancing through his words, "---weren't you actually skipping and mentally screeching like a child once you've seen the train?"

He's very much aware of his surroundings. Too mindful. Your mouth was kept shut as the words echoed in your brain. The subtle scrunch of your nose overflowing with aggravation for being culpable to Satoru's insane insights of his surroundings. Definitely, an ability you were starting to be suspicious of unless he was just utterly sensitive to the happenings that encompassed around him. All images were being reminisced to that particular moment where you were rooted to the spot from the Pokemon characters painted and printed along the interior layers of the train you've boarded in with him. 

"They've designed Jigglypuff, Skitty and Togepi well." you murmured rather softly, an admittance that wasn't meant to be heard as your mouth and words were muffled. 

Satoru couldn't help the smirtle that has been drawn to his face. All the while, his pitch was astute when he voiced out a quip, "Ah. That was an expected line from you. You're fond of another fluffy little thing." he'd began to pull on your leg, repossessing the prevalent jocularity he was having with you prior to the day rather than the easement that leaves him otherwordly unsettled. 

"---Let me raise you a fact, Tiny-Chan. Digimon's so much better." 

You've blinked to yourself upon hearing that come from him, slipping on a hop to your own place when you've taken a pause, delaying alongside Satoru who'd expressed his resonating curiosities, figuring out that the tiny, foreign woman he's with has briefly bounced on the soles of her feet, enfolding the Neko Stuff toy closer to you like you were starting to engage in a battle, "Excuse me---Is this another debate, you want?" 

Satoru blinked behind his Stygian sunglasses, pausing midway upon his drift away; his satirizing beams faltering before it grew into a wide, toothy grin that you've grown accustomed during the time being, "Hehe. Ting! Ting! Ting!" he pointed his fingers up above in steady counts to eulogize through your anticipations for his behaviors you've started to verse in, "---You got that correct! Hate to break this to ya' but I'm not backing down on this one. You're in for a verbal debate with the strongest!"

You've given him a grimace that has been purely frolicsome to begin with for his jocose altercations which always ends up in prolix piffles, "Eh! But, you never really do back down on our verbal debates anyway nor do you accept defeat! It's always an endless round!"

Tokyo Jujutsu High's ambiance was as hushed as it ever was. Satoru was roaring with laughter at his own childish witticisms that ensued to your own flounders. It was an interminable hooey that contradicted to your contretemps as you've both wandered further deep into Tokyo Jujutsu High. Footsteps going pit-a-pat as it lightly tapped along the nicely bricked built pavements. 

The cluster of your planned malarkeys were set to a stop. Your attentiveness stowed upon Satoru's fingers that kept tinkering inside his pocket as he was dragging on with his balderdash, not having the faintest that you were letting him win on this one. Well, he always insisted and have been stubborn to withhold his verbal triumphs. 

Once you were both situated under a tall, big, Japanese maple tree---being shut out by the heat of sunlight. Satoru had dug out his blindfolds from his pocket. The soft, Stygian fabric wafting through the borial breath of wind that drifted in definite directions, sheltered by the shade cloaking you from its shadows as you were both only a few meters away from the center of the wide-ranging institute. 

It was finally time-out.

"Satoru?~" you've accepted the paper bags in his hand when he'd outreached them out for you to take and finally give them all, lately fathoming how it was a plethora of his gratuity being given until they were all handled. Unbeknownst to you, the timbre lulling along the mere call of his name sounded utterly pulpous and benevolent. Unreasonably benign for Satoru to even give chaff to. All of a sudden, the flurry of air have been thawed for no reason; a reason that Satoru have been depriving himself upon perception. 

The white-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer felt the warm gust swallow him whole, kept inside the arcane notation he was having. An intonation he somehow found...saccharine. He haven't realized that he'd match up with your own pitch and eventually used the one that also made your toes sweaty and soles jittery, reciprocating what was being given as you've also felt the same way. 

"Yes, Tiny-Chan?~"

"You're putting the blindfolds back on now?" Thoroughly filled with artless curiosity, you've cocked your head to the sides, still wondering why the Sensei have been switching them from time to time and not having an ounce of knowledge regarding about the reason behind it; when he wears it or when he doesn't and why he wears it as well. 

This day had not been enough to read him through. Satoru Gojo is still an enigma; a paradox you've got yet to discover, a riddle you've needed to cudgel your brains out for this one. His background history entirely a closed-book needed to find the key to somewhere stowed away out there for you to hunt for.

Little did you know, it was also the same for you as for Satoru's perspective over the whole thing because your existence was one of the most difficult conundrums for the strongest. 

You were standing before him, utmost intrigued. Your childlike curiosity, a guileless flicker and dazzle within your eyes that surrounded you when you were gazing upon his face. Satoru knew you were engrossed over his presence. Though, he was oblivious to that heart beating within you. It skipped tethering, deafening beats when he'd sweep his sunglasses off his face in a slipshod manner. 

He'd blinded you with his beauty, rendering sightless for your surroundings and only to him, alone. Being immersed by the firmament he'd provided. The welkin you've started to traipse upon when you've fully had another chance of seeing the entirety of his face, without anything hindering Satoru's sight. 

It always leaves you in a magical reverie. How one can look utterly heavenly for a person to exist. He probably wasn't real. No man could be of paradise. You've rapidly blinked, packing up the daydream he has been pig-ignorant of---or he knew how the sum of his unhindered face alone could affect you in every way when you've gotten a gist of his wide, grin when you were distracted by appreciating Gojo Satoru in the flesh as he continued to yap. His hand holding onto his sunglasses while the other was his blindfolds. 

"Yep! I'm meeting with Principal Yaga and that old man anyways," he extolled with a shortened pause, perceiving a figure meters away without even bothering to turn his head to. It was beyond one for a normal person to know anyway who'd not been gifted by the six-eyes. Hence, this figure was Megumi Fushiguro, his first-year student based from his extrasensory perceptions. Satoru was having the best standpoint because there was no blockades over his sight now. "---I doubt they'll be asking about you yet because I made your presence utterly discrete for them to notice. Aren't I the best?" he yammered on, his succeeding sentences fading away in a whispered self-thought, "---Unless, Ijichi began to fink out in just a matter of hours..."

"Your eyes---," you've started off, mind in a state of stupefaction but also conscious of the veridicality that was guaranteed to slip through the tip of your tongue, the euphoria of your day fueling your heart into spouting reckless honesty that pledges to the confidence being consumed. 

Satoru was sharp-witted to cut you off with his witty, pompous remark. His grin growing wider like a Cheshire cat, "---are pretty. I know. There's no need for you to say it out loud. You should at least, humble me a little."

You've blinked another, shunning off to his haughtiness with absolute innocence that enveloped around you. A guileless spirit that girdled the emanations of this abrupt personality or response he'd created out of you from his unanticipated parade of his heavenly bare face.

"I wouldn't call it that way. It's pretty-basic. Hm. They're...a pair of spellbinding paradise, Satoru." A moment of pause. You've taken a calming breath out of your nose, smiling the brightest as you've dragged on. The end of your sentence being hummed while you've mused, thinking of better terms to get what was needed to be uttered out of nowhere, definitions that was certainly taken out of the dictionary to create a better meaning of the word 'beautiful'. 

"---Definitely too good to be true. If I could honestly assess them,"

Thus, the verity over your words---how you've run your mouth off for him, your reckless and impulsive honesty was a curse he would want to eradicate.

This felt more of a special grade malison or hoodoo than all those he had ever fought. 

"---I'm claiming it to be of stellar."

Blithesome whispered in the breeze. Satoru's white, luscious locks rippling through the zephyrs. His reticence imbibing the mellowness of the atmosphere; his taciturnity tumultuous for you to analyze on. A stifled smile forming the ends of your lips as you've went on with your candor. 

All words were put to a stop from your staggering speech with Satoru placing his sunglasses back inside his pockets. His own Sable blindfolds halting mid-way across his vision when you had to peek to the side, admiring how he was entirely a beauty created by the heavens. The genuineness unconfined from the glint in your eyes that the strongest had given a glimpse to, gaping through it all as if he was at a loss for words for the first time in forever. 

I know. It's the prettiest; basically the most beautiful out of all anyways. His dormant thoughts filled the empty ravines, ringing in nothing but hushed echoes that couldn't be uttered out of his boisterous mouth. 

That was what he wanted to say; that was what Satoru Gojo needed and supposed to proclaim out loud and not this shushed state he was currently in. 

Satoru couldn't get a grip on what he wanted to say as if his tongue has been cut-off all of a sudden. He couldn't believe it nor did he wanted to acknowledge or accept it that he couldn't retaliate from the words that left your mouth for the first time in his life; for the first damned moment in his life did he become soft---bashful over a cracker-barrel wisdom commented by a mere woman. This unidentified non-sorcerer who'd existed out of the blue during the heaps of calamity through the issues of the Jujutsu Society. 

A woman; one that was bound to experience such demise if she was not protected. 

Satoru blinked before you, caught in the wrong foot for hearing your sheer frankness that has possessed you in such a surprising time. His blindfolds already halfway through when he'd suddenly felt a rush of warmth spread across his face, one that comported himself into expressing a gape as he was concentrated over the fabric that drifted and went along with the breeze of the atmosphere out in Tokyo Jujutsu High. An annoying warmth that he wanted to slap himself on the face because it left him in a fit of pique, breaking from his tough masquerade and unveiling the empathetic sensitivity that begun to froth.

Damn it.

"Just wanna be frank this once since it'll serve as my gracious payment for today. An eye for an eye. Or must I say..." you've begun to trail off, getting a glimpse of the strongest appearing to be taken aback. Such an unforeseen position you've recognized him to be in. The utmost opposite of his usual demeanor that you had the opportunity to see; a remarkable occasion that nobody---no one had ever seen which emanated a warm beam that has spread across your face, summery than the sun can ever be.

"---An honest feedback for an honest feedback. Heehee! Enjoy those Ice Cream Mochis I made just for you, Satoru!" 

A stifled giggle went straight passed your lips with Satoru stopping on his tracks and actions. Gathering all the paper bags on one hand with your giant Neko stuff toy in the other, you've taken one bounce in place, exerting effort and a succeeding audible huff before turning upon the heels of your feet, evacuating from Satoru's presence when the cognizance of your own actions begun to thwack you in the face. 

"---Bye-bye!" you immediately exclaimed your regards, knowing well now where his dormitory was and what building it is within the institute. Though, the locations you were only habituated of had been his room, the kitchen and what particular classroom does he teaches with his students. Other than that, the institute was still a whole mystery for how far-reaching it felt like it was. 

All your hands were full and it was hilarious for anyone to see. You've hugged all the gifts and prizes to yourself, briskly walking away with a suppressing giggle when you haven't heard a word from Satoru nor did he have the short time to respond. Before you could actually say knife, you had already turned your heels in the midst of darting away from the whammy he was in. 

Much to both of your stupefied predicaments, Satoru kept track upon your sprint. Mouth still bizarrely zipped. His stellar eyes stuck on you alone. A gesture that have been an essential nature he'd hardly regarded until this exact moment where the heat felt too palpable to restrain from, a harrowing concern that leaves him overwrought, "---Oh, take care and be safe! Thank you so much for today!"

Take care. Be safe. Thank you so much.

Satoru Gojo felt the heat rise to his face, further and further through chasmic gaps. Free-flowing towards chasms he never expected to. Parts of his face that weren't meant to take a tour. Last time he'd checked as he bore in mind, the Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer hadn't remembered a time nor a split second where he had heard such compassion, genuine care and appreciation which fostered him during a day as if he was meant to be treasured, someone who was human and not as some weapon or armament to be used to.

The man never did remember. He tried to summoned up all moments but ended up reminiscing on nothing other than the care he'd accumulated from both of his closest friends who knew him better from the bottom of his heart. 

Because being the strongest meant he had everything worked out; being the invincible meant that he was to be regardful of everything to the point of nursing for himself, mindful that no matter how many allies you've got, if a Jujutsu Sorcerer dies then he or she dies alone. It was an inevitable chore from the day he was born to his world to claim the supremacy of what his real abilities hold for him. How his birth played a vital role in the evolution of the Jujutsu Society. 

Hence, hearing the tenderhearted words chanted out of your mouth in the most genuine timbre he'd heard has set him off in an unfamiliar demeanor he never expected. 

"Eh? T-Tiny-Chan! Come back! I still have something to say!" 

Satoru heard himself well and clear. Did he just stammer a little over your sudden flowery truth? Those paltry adulations that has been unlooked for, igniting a prompting speech impediment over him when it wasn't meant to happen anyways. 

"Your chatters are endless! There's never a time you've got nothing to say!"

That's not true. He'd heard his innermost thoughts reiterated for himself, taking all the exuberance you were offering and the existent portrait you were welcoming him with. He'd become aware and caught sight over that faint wave of your hand that settled around Neko-San, apparently its giant size were burdensome enough to flaunt the simplest gestures because of the plethora of gifts equipped within the bundle of your arms. 

"---Stop being lazy and go where ever it is you're needed to be. Bye!"

As expected, Fushiguro was in repose as he divagated within the expanse of the institution. The inheritor of the Ten Shadows Technique had an apathetic expression on his face when you've passed by him, eyeing everything what you were holding to yourself. He hadn't been given the opportunity to see your face nor did he see that you were peeking through the arm of your soft toy when you acknowledged his presence.

"Sea-Urchin!---I mean, Hi, Megumi!" 

Megumi scrutinized your form through his thick eyelashes, giving a second of incertitude before he responded with a stolic tonality of his voice, giving you a slight bow of recognition once he ceased from his deliberate wanders. Even through a distance, he was aware that you were with Gojo. Obviously. The black-haired Jujutsu Sorcerer witnessing those melodious giggle he subtly heard from a distance. The tiny hops with every step you've taken as you've drifted away from his Sensei who hollered out loud for you to come back, making the first-year student critically assess what was happening. 

"Eigo-San." Fushiguro apathetically regarded, continuously straight-faced. 

Once you were far enough, your figure miniscule to be detected from the position that they were in. He'd approached Gojo, assessing through the glance he'd given to his Sensei who was aimlessly fondling with his Stygian blindfold grazing around the tips of his fingers, not knowing what his expressions was as it was apathetic nor indistinguishable. The teacher's countenance inscrutable, giving little away. 

Satoru knew Megumi was around the corner and had to at least grab a hold of himself after that abrupt honesty you have given him. 

"Gojo-Sensei," Fushiguro acknowledged the teacher. Satoru's bare face par for the course of Megumi's anticipations because the first year knew already how he looked like with or without the blindfolds on unlike the previous first years---who were now second years---had no idea prior to that particular day on how Gojo appeared to look like without it when he managed to blow the gaff over the eyes he masked. 

"Oh, Megumi!" Satoru stated with a smile plastered on his face, warm and cordial for his student. He'd veiled his previous pneuma deftly. He cloaked in the frontage he usually had with his students. He'd begun to tie his blindfolds back, wringing a hand through the fluff of his locks with the spaces of his fingers, going over his forehead and through his hair being arranged in barbs with the undercut shown against the nape of his neck as he did so.

"Did you enjoy the day with Eigo-San?"

The lids of Gojo's eyes began to nictate through the fabric that concealed his eyes. Megumi's precipitated query making him wonder why he was being asked by a question that was obviously out of the box to begin with from the juvenile who was always outwardly stoic and calculating. 

"Huh? What's with the sudden question?" he blinked another through the clothing that covered his eyes. Megumi avoided his gaze and also had been like he dwelled from the abrupt question he had given, wondering why he even had to ask. The first- year probably regretted it as well when Gojo abruptly began to poke borak over a mere question that should've been out of his concerns. He grinned from ear to ear, instantly stepping a foot forward to clung an arm around the student's shoulders with a grin.

"---Had you missed me then?!"

"I knew I shouldn't have asked. It's a personal question anyway. Tch." Fushiguro deadpanned and grumbled, scowling to himself and wondering why Gojo ignored the subject, looking as though he was desisting from a simple inquiry that was answerable by a yes or no. At the same time, his first-year student was pulling out all the stops for the tight, lanky arm that clutched around his shoulders, "Oi, Megumi-Kun!" Satoru tauntingly chided, chuckling here and there before his student's lackadaisical honesty made him inquisitive about what he really wanted to say for the second time around.

"I already know the answer, Sensei. That's good to hear. Y-You need to stop wrestling me around now." 

Fushiguro elucidated out of nowhere, huffing out an exasperated breath when Gojo began to tussle him over like a kid and dragged him to anywhere he wanted. Obviously, the black-haired student was opposed to the confining space that his Sensei was giving him. Megumi's face unexpressive nor could he know what he was thinking from his own analytics other than a deepened grimace that Satoru habitually sees every day. 

"The answer to what? I didn't even said anything! Huh?" Gojo ceased the scuffles he was giving to Megumi. The first year peeved to the bones when he'd taken a hand to stressfully scratch along the back of his head, a deep frown of annoyance as he sighed out an audible breath of exasperation once he was out of the Sensei's hold. 

Little did Gojo know, his ears and cheeks had a tint. It emancipated hues of crimson that were a perpetual undertone which he was unheeded for when you've taken your flight before Megumi could even put one's oar to whatever it is you were having with the Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer. Those tinge of warmth that enveloped in mantled shadows no matter how Gojo endeavored the guise he tried to play. 

That particular eccentric, warmth throwing him off, unrecognizable for the emotions he ignored once Megumi have been on sight. He had never been aware of it nor did he perceive that he was experiencing one. Yet, his first year student found it utterly peculiar for such an odd image of his Sensei seeming to be in a flustered state that had to be too good to be true and difficult to process for those who were accustomed to the usual spirits that Satoru provided for them. 

If Megumi was an idiot, he would've blamed the sun that has probably given Gojo that strange flush over his face, the scarlet hues that gathered in trails over his own skin. 

But, he believed he wasn't a halfwit or a simpleton as he claimed how his two friends were. Let alone, including the Sensei's ignorance through it all. 

Hey, it's Tata! We can talk if ya' want or be added in the 7th Dimension taglist~ Just send an ask if ya' want to! Stay hydrated all the time and I hope you're having a great day ahead!

SEND AN ASK (LINK)

Much love,

Tata XoXo

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension (Chapter 7.8)

7TH DIMENSION MASTERLIST (ALL CHAPTERS)

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 7.7

7TH DIMENSION WATTPAD VERSION LINK (I am entirely ahead on this site now. 7th Dimension on Wattpad has now accumulated more than 10 chapters. There are minimal scenes back in the previous chapters which has been altered there, so sorry about to those who only read my updates through Tumblr because there might be some differences in Satoru's characteristics which has been changed on Wattpad already, yet y'all are bound to read the altercations in further chapters. Heehee.)

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: (Part 9) Mind Training with Gojo Satoru had been beneficial to the both of you. You were given a mission to bake him sweets and in return of earning a 10/10 rating from the Great Teacher Gojo would result for a Shopping Spree treat from the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive. Additional Summary for this chapter: From your transference of your world to Satoru's have been actually forecasted by an undisclosed diviner that obscured his prophesies in the dark. Nonetheless, what was meant to be envisioned for you had all been a trifling matter because he had seen nothing but a nullity of a future set out as you walk upon Satoru's dimension. Except for the fact that Fukumoto Daichi knew you also were an erudite when it came to the happenings that was set forth for the Jujutsu Society in the near future.

Warnings: Fukumoto Daichi is not a character from Jujutsu Kaisen along with Sasaki Hibito as well. They're both OG characters created by me. | Satoru's still being Satoru. Other than the menace being a menace, none. Just a lil' bit suggestive somehow because Satoru's sexy as heck---*rolls on the ground*

7th Dimension Taglist: @dailystsg (Send me an ask or message if you want to be added or removed, bb's!)

A/N: FEEDBACKS HELP A LOT FOR A WRITER.  REBLOGS, RESPECTFUL MESSAGES SENT THRU ASKS AND COMMENTS MAKE MY HEART TINGLE AND SQUEAL, ISTG. 💙 I DO APPRECIATE THEM ALL. I sincerely apologize how long chapter 7 is. There's another part which is 7.9 but don't worry because it'll be the last part before chapter 8. Thankies! Heehee.

SORRY IF THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS WITH EVERY CHAPTER I WRITE. I ain't a professional writer! I'm just a potato-hoe! LMAO.

Words: 5.4k+

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits, also those posted are not mine especially the GIF's. (I dunno how to make GIF's 😭 Tell me if the GIF's are yours so I could probably tag/credit you, bb's!) I only own the plot of 7th Dimension. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline and the characters themselves. OG characters are created by me and will be stated during my brief author's notes. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be for the sake of the story.

YOU'VE PATIENTLY WAITED FOR THE TRAIN ON THE SIDE. Another ice-lolly on hand that Satoru has promised to invest you in. His own strawberry popsicle guzzled within seconds. As expected from an unusual man who had a terrible, gnarly sweet-tooth. There wasn't much people that bordered. The veiled excitement balling upon your soles, making you senselessly wriggle those toes of yours inside your shoes, playing along your weight with the heels of your feet as it appeared like a child eager to be taken to the first destination of her field trip.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Satoru could feel his phone vibrate inside his pockets. The default ring tone of his cellphone pealing out loud, over and over again.

He never cared to put it on silent. Unmoved by how it look as though he was definitely needed to be somewhere.

Gojo was doing it on purpose. Ignoring the call, that is. In no circumstance did he bother to answer again as he knew it was either Yaga ranting and raving for his irresponsibleness or Ijichi being chided for his faults that has been put to the assistant director's blame.

"You're not answering that?" your tone seemed mirthful than ever, bringing the stuff toy below your chin while the other held onto the wooden stick. The cold dessert you were clutching onto was now polished off to the ends; the piece of wood aimed directly at Satoru's phone that was kept inside the pocket of his jeans.

You've held a palm out to him, signaling for him to wait as your feet skipped through the cemented grounds, throwing the garbage inside the proper recycling bin. Even though, Satoru did not appear to be looking. He basically was keeping track of where you walked upon.

Filled with vim. Your feet having the springs as you've pranced back, being all smiles and giggly. He'd given you his regard and another of his toothy grins, intentionally ignoring your question.

"You should at least hide your excitement, Tiny-Chan."

The train was fast enough for you to emit a sound of excitement; a faint squeal that went straight passed out of your mouth, heedless that you've ought to say it out loud. The train speaker declared its standard procedures in their native language, stating upon which station they were currently in---where both you and Satoru are located in.

You've taken short, overjoyed leaps through the entryway, snapping your head from left to right once situated inside and saw how there weren't a lot of people aside from a college looking student who had thick, square eyeglasses that sat on the farthest end of the train over the boundary where another hatch were interloping and connecting with the other door, a periphery of the area.

This stranger had his head leaning along the window behind him. He'd audibly sighed his frustration out underneath his breath. Mind elsewhere, currently in a pensive state as he was burdened over complications that has happened with his work and towards subsidiary affairs.

Activities which can be considered as a religion he worshipped. A lone divinity adulated by a faction of individuals they've devoted their lives for, depending on their own scriptures or gospels delivered by a deity they offer all their reliance on. People were of many creeds and cultures. Humanity embodied boundless beliefs. Divine beings reverenced by traditions that were established years before. 

Each one had their own doctrines of predestinations. It was just a matter of faith or a member of the human race to perceive and accept their designated sects with accepted pieties and the sanctity of one. 

"If 'Toru' has a tiny spot of grime...I'm strangling you alive, Satoru!"

You've caught this stranger's attention when you've given a loud, rowdy exclamation of your own irrefutable threat. The man lethargically blinked to himself, keeping his head away from the window before he'd been knocked for six, blinking another as if he couldn't believe his eyes. 

"Is that..." His submerged mind went above the apprehension of reality, own dwellings surfacing in between a quandary that emerged for an unsought time. Incredulity and dread loaded his disbelieving spirits. Own nerves malfunctioning, putting a kibosh on worrying over the mistakes he'd been berated back on a work he'd been receiving money from. 

The faction comprehended him clearly. Six months. Half a year after dooms day, Fukumoto Daichi was to be reborn again. Right after on the succeeding date that every Jujutsu Sorcerer has been oblivious for. An ill-starred time that no one would've been aware of. 

Their world's downfall for only a minute of time where each one was bound to suffer in successive unforeseen deaths. 

Fukumoto Daichi had seen what was written in the stars.

Through every calamity; every stroke of bad luck from every Jujutsu Sorcerer's decisions till the contretemps of what Satoru's dimension provided them with. Natural disasters that couldn't be controlled till the resoluteness of cursed-spirits that has been casted to the sides---thrown towards the tenebrosity of their world because of one's existence. He'd detected them all. They were au courant with the eventualities and incidents. Every member finding utmost trust to his divine providence that he offered to their faction.

But, to his ordinance---a god-forsaken commandment, Fukumoto Daichi had announced his sacrilege was to never stand in the way of what fate had for their dimension.

No matter what it takes.

Undeterred by the laden consequences, deplorable conditions and egregious circumstances that he'd foreseen before his demise.

Even if it meant for their world to collapse into complicated, torn pieces.

Only Sasaki Hibito was the sole person to apprehend what was said between the lines of their overseer in the subject matter of a woman; a substantial commination to the tenets of Fukumoto.

This threat he'd distinguished to be. Fukumoto foreknows everything. The image of your face which had his sanction flabbergasted by the details. Yet, barely laying hold of what you provided for Satoru's world other than the sketches he envisaged because your existence; your life, your motives or plans ahead, to Fukumoto he'd seen nothing but a nullified cloud of obscurity. Withholding bupkis of your astral influence that he could not predict.

Hence, which is why he'd made it intelligible for everyone---to everyone meant that only Hibito had understood the obligation imparted to those who were vacated that you were entailed to be terminated.

It was either to decimate or keep you constrained no matter who ended up escorting you through your unnecessary pilgrimage on their land.

Nevertheless, the scene that he was welcomed with---bringing you with them to a standstill required sedulous care. An all-embracing endeavor and a life of toil for each member of their religion that it would take a chucklesome illusion of pigs flying in the air.

Perhaps, keeping you detained within their grasp would be impossible.

Because you were guided---deemed to be protected and shepherd around Japan by the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in their world.

How fearsome it was to see you with him. Even mind-boggling to get a drift of such appearance that were an absolute reciprocity of Fukumoto Daichi with an opposite gender that they had prophesied for. Though, to no extent did they have any idea where, when and how you would make an appearance.

Hibito's hand couldn't help but shake just by being in the presence of him alone. Those fingers of his that trembled from trying to clean his own glasses with the fabric of his shirt. His lungs that began shaking like a leaf.

Those of the members within his faction who had seen Gojo Satoru in the flesh have been right. It was either you get intimidated or terrorized by the judgements you had for his potentials, exhibit abhorrence for his existence and hubristic side or have a bit of both.

There was no in between if he doesn't plan to keep you close within his range. Physically, mentally and spiritually.

Only those who were of palsy-walsy are to witness what and who Gojo Satoru really was. Apparently, Hibito was not one.

Master Daichi knocked together a plan of action that was paradoxical to begin with if what he depicted were not of an illusion fabricated during his stressed out conditions.

Hibito brought back his glasses to where it was situated in the first place. Lenses all limpid that he'd happen to fall further on his seat. An expected migraine taking place from the image.

You really were with the honored one. The inheritor of the limitless and six-eyes.

"Out of all damned people...She was supposed to be with us," Hibito mentally thought to himself, shunning his eyes away from both you and Satoru who kept bickering like you did not care for the world. He kept his eyes straight, disregarding your presence on purpose.

Nevertheless, his own leg seemed to be jiggle when he began to cross them. His own nerves deceiving him through the thoughts, logics and false providence that followed; his soul outright aware of Satoru who was just meters away from him and knowing he had the capability to die with one phony act he makes when he appears to be like he knew him and his history along the Jujutsu Society.

It would always end up with the question, 'How'. In which, Hibito could forebode their sub rosa patrols that involved time ahead and revealing them all would have him dying first before he could.

"Ooooh. Scary! A threat coming from a teeny-weeny girl," Satoru teased and taunted, shifting on his seat as he leaned his head to the side, sending you a charming, skittish beam, "---A threat that's entirely impossible to happen. Heh." he'd lowly chuckle to himself, leaning closer to your face to offer more of his mischief and irritating taunts, "---I'd love to see you struggle."

"You've already gotten him dirty because you threw him off!" you've groused with a grimace, huffing back to him and taking the stuff toy in between you both, emphasizing your forefinger and drawing beads on where the exact smudges were. Showing him the tiny specks of dust that it has gotten from his previous reckless actions back at the photo booth.

"Eh. It's only a tiny speck of dust. You should've chosen a different plushie then. You had options. Either a black one or the horrid, white one." Satoru nonchalantly stated, his voice light as he leaned his broad shoulders back, crossing his arms but having his legs spread enough for you to chastise him for in which he clearly didn't care about if you were too bothered by it.

"Aren't you sitting too close to me? There are lots of spaces to be seated on! Yet, you chose to sit beside me and man spread like a bitch again!" your verbal horsewhips passed from one ear then towards the other. His grin growing like it was animated enough as Satoru scooted closer next to you, depriving more of your area with his lofty built. Another sally resurfacing that was already prepared to be quipped out in the open.

"Actually, you should be thankful. I get to check the weather up here and that annoying top of your head. Need to check if you're growing a halo or the devil's ears already." His facial expressions turned more of a cock-a-hoop when you've shamelessly pushed his thigh close with your palms, exerting all your energy to it as he let you do it your own. Satoru going on with the flow and letting you have your own fun.

He'd countered all of this perversion with a semblance of bypassing the sense of absurd froth that spumed under that palisade he trusted to be resilient and stout.

"---I realized that it might be a little bit of both though. There's no in between. Are you also like this back in your world?"

"I was once an angel. But, being with you is making me turn into a she-devil!---Satoru, your leg is heavy! Please move! Or just basically give me space then!" You've breathed out the energy used to just allow yourself to sink in further on your seat, being cloth to cloth with Satoru now while he expressed his frisky, obdurate discords with a shake of his head and continuous 'nah's' ,'No's.'  and unsophisticated 'uh-uh's'.

You were being ridiculously more comfortable as you held onto the prize that you both had claimed back at the arcade. Another exhausted breath has been puffed out of your lungs as you've held onto your fluffy, Neko's white ears, making it sit on your lap, aimlessly playing with it, a genuine smile lifting your face.

An involuntary run of the mouth. The repressed thoughts, one that has been too honest to overhear by the latter, "---Also, I've chosen this because this is the only one that has the possibility to look like you!"

Satoru couldn't help the waggish grin that traced his features. His arms folded before him as he was gazing alongside your face, "Ah. I understand it clearly now. Are you saying that you've chosen that Neko plushie in hopes of remembering me whenever I'm not around?"

"---I mean," he started again and went on with his teasing, wiggling his albino brows as he jibed at your abrupt honesty, "---you've basically had him patented with such a marvelous nickname, right? There's no doubt that you've chosen that particular plushie to spare a thought for me."

Damn it. His own reasoning and logic made your body freeze. A bucket of numbing ice seeming to fall above your foolish self. Your hands stiffening from mindlessly playing with the stuff toy at hand.

Caught red-handed. You had to snap your head away after that, fighting shy of his conspicuous, unabating observance. Those palpable Ether that always had your face toiled underneath the broiling sun. With a twisted expression and your tongue poking on the insides of your cheeks, there was no doubt that you wanted to slap your own mouth, turning too free-spoken around a person that you should be through and through attentive of. 

Satoru was left chuckling to your side. The tonality rich and resonant, full-toned enough to analyze that he was probably thinking of taking its meaning to his head. The assumption lingering inside his haughty mind that you've purposely chosen the white cat in terms of remembering him when he wasn't around.

You knew you were right when he started to brag his mouth upon the notion, "Don't worry, I'll always be around you, Tiny-Chan. There's no need for that." Satoru pressed on, his leg now elegantly crossed as he leaned further on your side. Straight off, being cheek by jowl with him. His willowy, athletic weight now leaning more onto you as he hummed teasingly.

"Y-You're putting words in my mouth! I-I didn't say that!" Flustered words toppled one on top of the other, caught in your own incautious reckoning. Those honest statements should've been left unsaid and prohibited only to that angel sitting on your shoulder.

Those off the record kept thoughts should've been written on a locked diary or some sort instead. Yet, this erratic, refreshing solace that neighbored you whenever Satoru was around, the apparent sheltered ambiance that could be felt through him paved those thoughts out somehow.

In which fed to his ego again after all.

"It's okay to be honest with me. I dislike liars anyway. Feel free to memorize my charm and handsome face before I return the blindfolds back," your cheeks were puffed for both, restraining the need to strangle yourself from your genuine dopiness, aware of the piping hot temperature that tarried, falling further down the volcano hole. Your face experiencing to be sizzling in a fiery catch of shame for such an honest retaliation that didn't seem to even be a verbal counterattack from you and also for Gojo's veracity that he was proudly reveling in.

He'd slanted down further, catching you entirely off-guard when the supple of his lips grazed along your earlobe. Those next words of his sounding deep-toned, modulated but a little bit hoarse that was meant to be classified into the titillating side.

What was set forth susurrated below his breath. Warmth carelessly skimming above your skin, "Don't be shy,"

All at once, those hairs on the nape of your neck stood like you've been electrocuted. The electricity going straight down the rabbit hole like it has given you a sensation of something different. One squeezing through concupiscent dreams, worth for a mother to scold the licentious behavior of her daughter. 

It echoed and rang through that flummoxed state you were having, his words being crooned like a choir out in a church. Full and utterly angelic despite of how the devil was probably laughing out of court through your persistence of going through the motions being a paragon of virtue. An angel? Nah. You certainly weren't. 

This quotation you've heard from Satoru have been mixed within the familiarity that echoed in that fragmented abyss planned to be healed and connected together, filling the cavity of intrigue. Though, the words that came out of his mouth was definitely the first time you've heard them loud and clear. It was as far as you could recall, including that distinct impeccable locution he uttered that has given you a giggle prior when you were forcefully fed by his Shiitake Mushrooms.

"H-Hey! IT'S MAKING ME UNEASY!---you are making me uneasy, Satoru!" Out of the blue, you've loudly protested at the top of your lungs. As luck would have it, there weren't any other passengers except for the college student you've become cognizant of. To some degree, his body stilted upon his own seat like he was situated in a rather confined space when he had all the expanse to take, off in a world of his own. If there were elders, they would've chastised both you and Satoru for being so brash and rowdy. Affiliates to be classified in the boisterous side of the crowd because of the constant rumbustious pleasantries that catapulted high and low from both parties.

The noise would've been considered ill-mannered to their culture especially while riding a public transportation.

You tore hell for leather out of the seat you've occupied in the train, lifting yourself off from Satoru's side, emigrating from his reach without sparing him a glance. Your face uttermost being baked inside an imaginary oven, feeling like it was being scorched by the heat of the stove.

Satoru was utmost tickled pink for such a raucous reaction.

Too entertained that he had to drive more around the bend. He'd given a simper, the ends of his lips stretching wider as he ought to bring his pestilent necessities to use. Satoru was settled to provoke you even more, shamelessly pulling himself out of his seat, scurrying along your side with a playful purse of his lip. The troublesome idea of whispering the phrase again along your ear.

The strongest have made it obvious. Satoru's perverse decisions and plans that were clouded with mischief all the while he scooted next to you and offered his audible teehees.

"Don't be---" His words were cut off, lanky body being at an angle where his breath was capable of giving the summer breeze along your hypersensitive skin. The wariness of his presence stuffing your sentience that you were holding tightly onto your brand new prized stuff toy with a reckless moniker of it having named 'Toru' that you've had the audacity and will power to shove the plushie on Satoru's face in attempts to shut him up.

It would've stopped everyone's tracks; would've ceased Sasaki Hibito if he wasn't intentionally shunning off to both of your existence, it would have also catch Satoru's students on the hop because of a breathtaking and unanticipated incident. An absolute willpower from a non-sorcerer would have raised a furor among everybody who'd wanted revenge given to a menace of the Jujutsu Society. That fixity of purpose from a person who entirely had no sense of cursed energy nor knew any technique in regards to Jujutsu.

All that spunk you've got deserved an uproar. If his students or those people who were constantly annoyed by him were around, you might have received a splendid applause.

Satoru had seen it. His senses knew you were about to give him a smite with your Neko stuff toy. But, he was too busy; too preoccupied with his own guffaws over the bashfulness of your spirits that he allowed it to happen. Your soft toy smacking him in the face, "---Oomph!"

However, Gojo Satoru was obviously quicker than you opined him for revenge. Energetically taking the stuff toy from you and out of your hands.

The annoying idiot literally and proudly chucked the prized possession away inside the train. Within the area of the public transportation that you were both traveling in. The poor white stuff toy kitty heading throughout the width of the train compartment, accepting its hapless fate with a faint squeak of its loss. The lifeless soft toy devoting itself for its sustained defeat for being tossed for a lot of times today.

Satoru Gojo: 2 | Neko-san: 1

Neko-San has earned his well-deserved point by hitting him on the face.

"SATORU!"

This has been one of the loudest exclamation of his name that has been spat out of your mouth, kicking up a fuss for the sorcerer's foolish actions. Those embarrassed expressions you had, the broiling heat gradually melting away when Gojo had to dramatically stood on his towering height. He'd posed like he had a strike over a bowling game. Fists tightened on either side of him. His long-legs slightly bent like he was ready to pounce or give a kick over a cursed-spirit that technically wasn't there to begin with. Stance appearing to be like he was ready for combat.

You couldn't help the tight, firm moue. Those aghast expressions candid to be perceived by anyone, distorting them even more when Satoru had to declare a word out loud.

"STRIKE!"

You've given him the stink-eye, giving his face a once over and scrutinized the widening beam he had. As a matter of fact, you've spotted the slight dinky rumpled streaks of his wispy Ivory hair on the strength of Neko-san's attack. Satoru never took his eyes off your Neko stuff toy that went and flew as far as it did that it fell right exactly before the stranger's shoes whom was sitting silently and minding his own business.

"AH! YOU NEED TO STOP IT! He's as pale as your albino hair! Stop throwing him away like he's some ragdoll! REALLY!" With a stomp of your foot and an obvious, tight wrinkle of your brows clamped together. To the fullest extent were you nettled by Satoru's acts of inconveniences. You've felt your lips twitch on the sides, huffing out an exasperated breath. Holding onto the train's metal side bar to stabilize yourself to stand as you've audibly vouched and dragged your heavy footing along the floors towards your beloved stuff toy.

"---I have to get him again myself!" you've crowed your thoughts out loud, bleats frank enough for Satoru to assess as he continued on with his poses and own glares upon a lifeless dummy he was subtly seeing as an illusionary combatant. "---you've almost had to hit the stranger on the head too! Now, I need to apologize for your behavior when I don't even speak your language!"

The floor seemed nicer to stare at for Sasaki Hibito. How long had he been moored to his seat till his destination? In all likelihood, the time he spent with the both of you around had been ephemeral. Quite not too long ago yet. Granted that, time stood still and had been a suffocating mess when Satoru Gojo has been in the ballpark bordering his vicinage.

Hibito has been eavesdropping, nevertheless. Mentally inscribing synopsis or observations for your existence as well. One he'd taken to footnote was the nonnative language you were speaking. Distinguishing you to be of a foreign woman whom the strongest could decipher. He'd also been hearing you both fighting over something so childish. An irrelevant notation he'd paid attention to when his earwigging was ceased due to seeing a large, white, stuffed cat toy that has been knocked to the ground, right before the tip of his shoes.

This was the thing that both you and Satoru has been bickering non-stop about.

He couldn't help but mentally cuss inside his head. Never risking the profanities to be commented out loud.

"Damn it." Hibito was repeatedly questioning himself if he needed to get it for you. Balancing the consequences if he did or did not. What if he acted and turned a blind eye to the plaything? would Gojo Satoru break his neck for it? 

Hibito technically heard the prior canards through one of Fukumoto's disciples. One of the few and far between strong adherents of his that he couldn't conceive to be happening; confabulating with an eldritch being to start with. He'd listened to the their chinwags over how Gojo granted ruthless measures over a particular unregistered special grade cursed spirit who'd underestimated the strongest. His foe losing his temper for his vainglorious demeanor that he had whenever in the course of a Jujutsu battle. Gojo Satoru was granted that he was verily stronger and had the upper hand before the battle even started. 

The word on the street purveyed in the pitiless aftermath of this certain vier, taking him down a peg or two from grisly pulling his own head off inside Gojo's Domain Expansion that has overthrew his. 

Straightaway and without even realizing his fretful nerves were controlling him all at once, Hibito was coming in for the stuff toy. His subconsciousness screaming how his yips would've made everything conspicuous, yet he had to play the chivalrous and respectful Japanese citizen. He didn't need to look at the both of you anyway, he silently thought as his head bowed when he'd felt that you were at arms length away from him. 

Both of his arms out with the plushie on his hand, offering your soft-toy back without even sparing you a glance. 

This was the first and only time he'd seen whom everybody have loathed and been frightened of. Gojo Satoru whose existence which made every cursed-spirit hid behind the shadows because of his birth. Hibito even had the ill-fate to tolerate upon communicating towards the threat that their worshipped being has forewarned them all about.

The woman of peril that needed to be constrained within their hands.

"Ah---Hm. Arigatou Gozaimasu and Gomenasai. I hope the pronunciation is correct. By the way, mister---I'm with the crazy, albino man child. I'm so sorry." you've kindly thanked Hibito, trailing off for a second as you've glanced at the train's ceiling, reclaiming your soft-toy back from his hands. Your next words gibberish for him to understand as it was beyond any doubt a foreign sentence that he had his brows in a twist. The stranger carried on and hid his face underneath and in between his arms, playing the role of a diffident man who did not want to have a confab with anyone. 

He just didn't trust the constant frets of his fingers and the everlasting instability that Gojo's presence has brought him in. 

"Oi! Tiny-Chan!~" 

Ah, Damn it. Hibito felt himself tripping on the wrong foot when he'd heard Satoru merrily calling out for you. His spirit of inquisitiveness has been changed to stress, stirring an intense amount of agitation when he heard Satoru hollering. The peculiar nickname and honorific he'd used piqued his curiosity. 

He had to continue and bow further as if the floor was really such nice art. Fukumoto's votary wanted you to scram; wanted you to skedaddle that he was pleading to Fukumoto's dead soul that you would leave him alone before his state of nerves could divert Satoru's attention from yours to his. 

However, your nosiness; your snoopy self decided to stay upon your tracks and studied him down in concern, wondering why he wasn't giving you a look, worried that he wasn't all too well. 

You've dwell on further, not wanting to judge the culture that you were still adapting from. Distracted as you appeared to be especially with the visual perception of Gojo, his six-eyes be immersed over your figure as you stood before the unusual, timid stranger. How the echo of his feet were like the drums of death, steadily being clobbered with in hulking thuds. Literally. 

"He knows. He knows that I know him. He knows. He knows." Hibito was cognitively ranting and wordlessly rambling time after time. His mind in a mess and have been on edge that he had unconsciously fished his phone out of his pocket, acting as if he has gotten a text when he could hear Gojo's heavy footsteps echoing closer.

"Didn't I tell you to just stay beside me because it's more fun when I'm around?"

Hibito's breath was being held back. He could feel himself fighting to keep an unstable pattern of breaths to make him appear more composed within the presence of his mind when it has all been the opposite. From his peripheral vision, his line of sight that has been hardly engrossed over the screen of his phone, he could see and feel Satoru closing in within a spitting distance which kept his anguish mid bay. 

"More fun when you're around? Hah! That was very funny. You've been giving me headaches!" you've bewailed with a tepid, sardonic laugh, turning a blind-eye to Satoru's saunters, "---throwing my plushie away since the moment I had him whenever you could. I always had to get it myself! This is all your fault!"

"Hai, hai...Come here now," Satoru droned once he was well-nigh, waltzing within the borderline of your discussion with a stranger you barely knew. "---besides, Neko-san's meant to be catapulted all the time."

"You go wash him then!" 

He'd kept his foot atwix the stretch of margin that kept you and Hibito adjacent to each other, looking as though he was trying to meddle in. Satoru actually was, much to your ignorance. On grounds of Hibito's twitchiness, his own nerves reacting upon his jittery impulse, his foot has faintly repelled when his sight-line and headlong senses seen Gojo's shoes step in between the line. 

It probably wasn't the best idea for his own axons to betray him in such an epoch-making occasion right now. 

You've been too faraway over your own hairsplitting mumbles of complaints over Satoru's actions, those real grouches inwardly interrupted when you've felt the grasp and warmth of his riveting touch that has gently grabbed your wrists, snowed under with his sizeable palm. Indulgent as he always was with you. Gojo have pried you out of the superfluous conversation, dragging you alongside of him and back to where you both seated. 

He's protective over her. She probably has been aiding to what Master Fukumoto has seen her to be. This guy wouldn't keep her with him if she was entirely useless after all. Hibito took his time as he breathed out the air he had been holding. At an apparent snail's pace with each step Satoru took as he yanked you away. The sneaking suspicions settling his ruminative thoughts ahead again. 

Although, he's kinda' too protective to assess.

Unbeknownst to him, The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer has given him the side-eye upon his intrusion, sparing him a glance of his fugitive heed when he'd intentionally whisked you away from Sasaki Hibito, the knacks of his scrupulous senses fastening on the infinitesimal buck fever he was having till the mocked-up act he was trying to mask for whatever reasons. Yet, above all was the tiniest scent that he had been around cursed-spirits. His six-eyes never conked out nor diminished him. It was a vague smell that he was inured to after all and even how diminutive this was for Hibito because he hadn't even met Fukumoto's acolytes for today yet, Satoru knew.

Satoru's foremost gut feeling that his restiveness had to be about him. 

That's what he thought because Gojo has been given to understand that you were a nonentity. Thoroughly unidentified and your existence purely being a mystery whom no one in his world knew of. 

"How could we even get ahold of her when it was impossible from the start?"

Gojo has cut those hunches dead, thumbing one's nose over a tangential non-sorcerer whose existence was irrelevant to begin with. 

Through the birth of Gojo Satoru; the balance of the world has been altered. But, to your unanticipated existence and being entirely surrounded by him, alone. Everyone's destiny was guaranteed to be reshaped and tweaked to an extent that should've been left untouched.

Just wanna make it clear that Fukumoto Daichi has the same face with you. He's a man but prolly older. Heehee. He also have his disciples which are Sasaki Hibito and the others---which will be named and introduced soon. 

Think of them as a cult that's supposed to be hiding at all costs because they know some things that aren't supposed to be known that easily.

Satoru just be breathin' and Sasaki Hibito be fainting---LMAO XD 

There's still going to be chapter 7.9 before chapter 8 begins. Sorry if it's too long. I just really wanted this to last and also let them have their moments. Heehee. See you on the next chapter soon, if anybody even reads these fanfic stories of mine. Heehee!

SEND AN ASK?