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siennaditbot · 3 months ago

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Sethos x Reader: Sun & Moon

Hehe, look at me actually finishing it lol. Been ages since I've written x Reader stuff but I hope yall like it. Sethos needs more love <3

Female reader but I hope yall can still enjoy it lol :>

Sethos was a people person. He could talk to everyone and make them forget that they hadn't just met him, seamlessly integrating into any group he wished.

He had a good facial memory, so he could strike up a familiar conversation with most of the citizens.

But there was someone in Sumeru City that he had never properly caught for a chat. A humble cleaner girl, who seemed to hate him for some reason.

Whenever he tried to start a casual conversation with her, she focused on anything but him, her body language telling him she did not want to talk. Her replies were curt and he had to try hard to keep the conversation from dying.

He was pushy, yeah, but he knew not to push his luck. She was practically holding a weapon she could smack him with, after all. An everyman’s polearm - a broom.

So, he stopped approaching her. They just coexisted, him passing by her sweeping the streets sometimes, offering a polite wave as he jogged past her.

Then, on one rainy day, Sethos was caught enjoying the shower between his errands. He stood in the middle of the empty street, eyes closed and face lifted skyward as if to hug the rainfall.

But the rain suddenly stopped.

He opened his eyes in surprise and briefly met hers, before she handed her umbrella to him and dashed off. He was left there, staring at her disappearing form and the splatters of water as she ran.

He was confused, but shrugged the absurd encounter off with an amused smile.

“Heh, guess she doesn't hate me, after all. Interesting.”

Sethos loved being in the city. It was full of fascinating people, especially within the Akademiya. He loved learning about them, their stories, ideas and passions.

And now the curt sweeper girl had caught his interest.

He still politely greeted her when he passed by, and her responses were curt as ever, usually simply nodding and letting him pass. But now he read her behavior as shy and awkward instead of hateful.

His polite smile became a bit more genuine when he understood.

He kept noticing her in other places after that, too. She was often found sitting in random spots, holding a notebook she was very focused on, not paying attention to anyone who wondered what her deal was.

Sethos was one of them. He curiously eyed her every time he saw her, but she never lifted her face from her notebook.

One day she was sitting on a box behind Lambad’s Tavern, hand going wild as she worked on the notebook in her lap. Sethos noticed her, and decided to approach her for once.

She jumped when his voice cut through her concentration, having broken into her bubble.

“Soo. What’cha working on there?”

She immediately shut the notebook and looked away, clutching it to her chest.

“Heh, you were really into it. Sorry for spooking you.”

She didn't reply, no idea what to say, so she literally waved it off. He got the message, leaning against the railing next to her.

“You're a funny one, you know. I can never expect where you'll be sitting with that secret tome of yours. I’ve heard people call you a local cryptid because of it.”

That made her snort, and she immediately threw a hand up to cover her mouth.

His smile widened, proud of drawing a new reaction out of her.

“It's true, though. I've seen you on several branches of the Divine Tree, on a roof or two, and I swear I caught you behind a bush once. What's up with that?”

She scratched her cheek shyly, not expecting anyone to pay attention to her.

“...Inspiration”, she finally managed.

“Inspiration, eh? What's so inspiring about sitting behind a bush?”

She chuckled lightly in response.

“I just like switching spots. Different angles.”

"Riight, right, that makes sense. What do you need that inspiration for, then? Writing, drawing, homework?”

She turned the cover of the notebook towards him. It had ‘sketchbook’ written on it in fancy letters.

“Ohhh, an artist, I see. That's cool. You got the whole ‘vibe’ down too, now that I think about it.”

She drew the sketchbook back to herself again, shrugging with a small, amused hum.

“Quiet and mysterious. Who knows what's going on inside those covers”, he explained with a playful grin.

She was still curt, but her small smile gave him confirmation that she definitely didn't hate him.

“I’ll let you continue, then. Can't stop an artist when inspiration hits, after all.”

After seeing her nod and timidly wave at him, he stood back up with a satisfied smile. He waved in response and walked off, arms stretched behind his head as he went to continue on with his day.

From there on, he stopped to bother her for a moment or two whenever and wherever he caught her. She didn't seem willing to talk about art or her secret sketchbook, so he kept the conversation alive, talking about whatever. She was still curt and shy, but her snorts and amused huffs became a more common occurrence as days passed.

One day, after he was done telling one of his stories, she seemed particularly thoughtful.

“What's up? Remind you of something? Oh, oh, did I give you inspiration?” he grinned excitedly, pointing at her.

She took a moment to formulate her reply.

“..How do you always have something to talk about?”

He didn't expect that. She didn't seem annoyed, though..

“Heh, I’ve just seen and heard many interesting things. I like sharing mine, and learning more from the people I meet.”

“That simple?”

He shrugged casually.

“I’m a people person. I like talking and listening.”

Her face formed a strained smile as she looked away.

“My brain always goes blank when there's people around. It's like there's not a single thought in there.”

That seemed to confirm his assumption of her treatment of him before. She was just shy. Or socially anxious.

“Ah. More of an introvert, then?”

“...No, I want to be around people. I just… short circuit. Not very interesting company.”

“I think you're plenty interesting”, he stated matter-of-factly, “you've got me curious.”

That surprised her, and she turned to look in the general direction of his face, but still not meeting his eyes.

“You’re curious? About me?”

“Sure am. There's the sitting in random spots thing, your mystery book, how you're so focused you don't react to people gawking and talking about you right next to you…”

He counted with his fingers, amused but genuine.

“There's obviously a lot going on in there. I’m curious about what sorts of ideas you have. Art isn't exactly the biggest thing around the city, after all.”

She had to take a moment to take in his words.

“It's nothing special, really. Just stories, imaginary situations and encounters.”

“A bit of fantasy added to the ordinary, eh? That's fun. Care to give me an example?”

A bit nosy, maybe, but he was interested.

She looked away for a moment, not sure if she should or whether she even could produce an example for him. He seemed genuinely curious though, so she tried, and inspiration hit when she gazed down at the docks.

“Um, like, a long-awaited reunion happening down there. A tearful embrace…”

She suddenly felt very embarrassed.

“..That's dumb, isn't it? I can-”

“No, no, no, don't worry. I can see it. A bit of a romantic, aren't you?”

She blushed a little, but shrugged with a noncommittal chuckle.

“Comes with the whole art thing, I think.”

“Heh, makes sense. I like it.”

A moment of silence. It was comfortable to him, but she felt the need to fill it.

“U-um, thanks, for, you know, always talking to me.”

He wasn't expecting that, either, and hummed in question, grinning curiously.

“...I like talking to people. It's just..difficult”, she continued, wanting her thanks to reach him properly.

“Well, I’m always down for a chat. I'll keep stopping by to bother you, then?”

“You aren't bothering me. But yeah. I'd like that. Maybe I’ll learn some tips and tricks from the master of social skills”, she joked with a soft smile.

“Sounds like a plan.”

And so they continued their occasional chats. He often ended up stopping people to talk with them, anyway, but it was nice to have confirmation that he actually wasn't bothering her.

His company gradually helped her relax and learn to imitate some of his social techniques, like asking questions and using more open body language.

Eye contact was still an issue for her, though. And to Sethos’ surprise, it bugged him a little.

He was straightforward and social, so eye contact came naturally to him. Not everyone he talked with looked back into his, so he knew it wasn't easy for everyone. And, to be fair, his eyes were kind of intense, which was a blessing and a curse sometimes.

Yet, somehow, he couldn't shake the thought of wanting to meet her eyes. She was always looking somewhere else when they talked. Usually her sketchbook.

Still, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so he did his best so she could relax when they chatted. He wouldn't push her, make her feel like she had to do it.

He had only met her eyes once, by accident that time she handed him her umbrella. They were bright and curious, almost striking in the muddiness of the downpour.

He remembered them clearly.

So, instead, he focused on learning more about her and her ideas and visions, and loved telling her his stories since they seemed to inspire her to some extent.

He learned to pick up on the change in her expression when she moved from listening to him to formulating an idea.

It was cute.

He thought positively about people, appreciated their qualities, both inside and out, but it wasn't often that he considered a person cute.

That thought lingered in his mind, too.

Her reactions made her even more cute to him. She blushed at times, yes, but she was playful in return, smacking him with her pencil or broom or rolling her eyes with that amused smile of hers. And she gladly showed him her work now.

He didn't think it affected how he interacted with her, but he unconsciously became a bit more friendly, almost flirty at times. He often grinned when they talked, initiated playful physical contact - like poking or gently kicking her - and couldn't help but give her tons of honest compliments, especially on her art.

One time after their brief chat when she was working, he was left with a single thought in his mind:

“Heh, shucks. I like her.”

It wasn't a world changing revelation, just made him connect the dots and realize how much his way of interacting with her had changed.

…And he was pretty sure she liked him too.

He kept interacting with her like usual, honestly just enjoying what they had. A comfortable friendship with banter, intrigue and plenty of laughter.

But it would be a lie to say that he wasn't also gauging more on what she could be feeling.

He picked his best stories, told them with a bit more flair, and gave her more casual compliments.

And, well, if their knees happened to touch when they were talking, or his playful pokes lingered on her skin a moment too long to be read as platonic, he didn't make a big deal out of it.

One day Sethos caught her sketching on a sturdy branch of the Divine Tree, easily accessible but not immediately visible to the townsfolk.

He chuckled and approached her, nimbly making his way to her in the tree.

“You're an enigma, you know that?” he grinned as he sat down next to her.

“It’s simple, really. The view is great from here. So many people to see, so much inspiration to gather.”

He looked down. The citizens were enjoying their evening activities; entering and exiting the tavern, boats docking, adventurers returning to get their rewards for their daily commissions.

It was interesting. He preferred to be mingling down there with them, but stepping back and watching the hustle and bustle from a different angle made him appreciate it in a new way.

He might not have lived in the city for long, but watching all those people do their thing made him realize how lucky he was to be around so many people nowadays. He grew up in the desert, with only the people of the temple as his company, after all.

He was gazing down with a gentle and slightly solemn expression, happy to be where he was now. He had friends, connections, and now… her, too.

He turned to look at her, about to share his appreciation for the view too, but to his surprise, he met her eyes. She had been watching him, curious about how quiet he went and what he was thinking of.

Her eyes held a hint of worry, but enough affection to make him stumble with his words. This time it was Sethos who broke eye contact, turning to look back down.

“Y-yeah. I get it. All those people have their own lives and stories to tell.”

“Exactly!” she chuckled and pointed the end of her pencil at him. “A gold mine of inspiration and ideas.”

They both loved getting ideas from people, huh? Their ways were different, sure, but maybe they were pretty similar, after all.

Stories, curiosity, ideas and inspiration. They worked well together.

That train of thought suddenly made him feel the need to communicate his feelings to her. Like his soul was calling out, wanting to connect with this girl whose company he had been enjoying more and more.

“You know, you remind me of the Moon sometimes”, he started, fittingly artistic for what he was about to do.

“Sounds fun and poetic. Care to elaborate?”

“You're always present, I just gotta know where to look. Mysterious, but mesmerizing.”

“Hehe, thank you.”

She smiled, but didn't seem to catch the full meaning of his words, so he continued.

“What I’m trying to say is, I like you. You draw my attention in a way no one else does.”

Well that definitely caught her attention.

Their eyes met again, and he nodded, not ashamed or embarrassed, but ever so slightly nervous.

“You do?”

She cleared her throat to answer him.

“...I always thought you were like the Sun. You're warm, fun, and easily draw people to you.”

She wasn't as calm as he was, but hoped her indirect poetic message reached him too.

“Does that mean what I think it does?” he couldn't help but ask, a hopeful grin on his face.

She moved her gaze down and nodded.

“I-I like you too. I feel like I can relax around you.”

Both sat in silence, soft and giddy grins on their faces, taking in the big words hanging in the air.

They turned to look back down at the citizens buzzing around the streets, the shy mood eventually becoming comfortable again, and moved on into imagining what kinds of adventures the people below them had experienced today.

Their fingers soon found each other and intertwined slightly as they sat together.

#sethos #sethos x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #SDB fics #it happened huh #i wrote genshin fanfiction #life has a funny way of making things happen #but anything for my boy <3 (thats practically what the file is called lol)#anyway hope yall like it!!#edited a bit so the spaces aren't as big lol #hopefully it looks better and still reads well

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pin-k-ink · 7 months ago

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lilac // gojo satoru

tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, implied age gap, dub-con, mentions of violence and injuries, a bunch of made up stuff about cursed energy, sex pollen, dry humping, kissing, biting, marking

wc ⇢ 5.8k

a/n: first time writing about sex pollen. i got too lazy to write full smut :/

The deep indigo sky was just beginning to lighten to shades of soft periwinkle and pale violet when you quietly made your way through the still-sleeping streets towards the designated meeting spot. The cobblestone paths were deserted save for a solitary street sweeper pushing a rickety broom. The crisp morning air carried the faint blossomy scent of the cherry trees lining the boulevard. You breathed it in deeply, savoring the peaceful tranquility before the mission's inevitable chaos.

Despite the early hour, an energetic current of nervous anticipation buzzed through your veins, making you feel awake and alive. After weeks - no, months - of persistent nagging and pleading with your mentor Gojo, he had finally agreed to bring you along on a real mission to neutralize a powerful cursed spirit that had been terrorizing a village. This wasn't practice or sparring. This was the real thing, and you could scarcely believe he was trusting you with this level of responsibility.

You had been studying under Gojo's guidance for three years now, quickly marking yourself as his most promising student. Your rapid progress coupled with your earnest enthusiasm clearly endeared you to the laidback master. When you first began apprenticing under him, you admired Gojo's effortless strength and nonchalant confidence. But the more time passed, the more your admiration deepened into something...more. An aching fondness that went beyond student-mentor. You did your best to bury those pesky feelings, but they surfaced anyway in your private moments when your treacherous thoughts strayed to Gojo's disarming grin, his melodic laugh, the gentleness in his touch whenever he adjusted your stance...

Shaking away those distracting thoughts, you turned your focus to the task at hand as you neared the city gates where Gojo said to meet him. You slowed your steps, not wanting to seem overanxious, and scanned the area. At first you didn't see any sign of your mentor. Then a tall, lean figure stepped out from the shadows beneath a flowering dogwood tree, seemingly materializing from the darkness itself. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

Gojo looked as casual and unruffled as ever in his trademark black jacket and fitted trousers. His silver hair was disheveled from sleep, the long bangs framing his angular face. The black blindfold covering his eerily bright eyes was already tied securely in place. He flashed you a teasing smirk as you approached, effortlessly exuding an aura of power and danger despite his relaxed demeanor.

"Well, well," he drawled in that deep, unhurried baritone that never failed to send a shiver down your spine, "Up before the sun, I see. That's my stellar pupil."

You rolled your eyes in an attempt to brush off the feeling of breathlessness that always struck you when he was near. "Like I could sleep after you finally gave in to my requests," you shot back, feigning nonchalance.

Gojo chuckled warmly, the rich sound resonating in your core. "Careful now, that eagerness will get you into trouble."

"I can handle trouble just fine," you retorted with a toss of your hair, steadfastly ignoring the flutter in your belly at his darkly amused tone.

In two long strides, Gojo closed the distance between you. Your breath hitched as he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that set your heart racing wildly. His smile turned wolfish, as if he could sense the effect his proximity had on you.

"Getting awfully bold aren't we?" He murmured in a low rumble. "You'll need to rein in that fire if you want to keep up today."

You scowled and swatted his hand away, silently cursing the flush you could feel rising on your cheeks and neck. "I'm ready for whatever comes my way. You seem to be forgetting I'm the one who's been pestering you about this."

Gojo's smile widened in amusement at your feistiness. With a dramatic flourish, he produced a sleek black case from the inner pocket of his jacket. Your eyes widened in excitement as he flipped it open with his thumb, revealing a gleaming array of freshly crafted cursed tools nestled in plush protective inlays.

"Hard not to remember with how relentless you've been," he teased lightly. Fixing you with that intense stare despite the blindfold, he continued more seriously, "This cursed spirit we're dealing with is immensely powerful and extremely crafty. It won't be like the exercises we've practiced." His expression turned grim. "People have died already. You need to follow my lead exactly as I say, understood?"

You held his searing gaze steadily and nodded once in solemn acknowledgment of the stakes. "I'm ready."

The corner of Gojo's mouth quirked upwards in an approving smirk. "Then let's be on our way. I have a feeling this is going to be a day to remember."

With that ominous quip, he snapped the case closed and set off at a brisk pace. You felt a surge of exhilaration Course through you as you easily matched his long stride, the two of you headed towards the tree-lined path leading out of the city.

The streets were still largely empty, aside from a few bleary-eyed vendors beginning to unpack their wares and set up for morning customers. Gojo waved lazily to the fruit seller positioning bright pyramids of glossy apples and mandarins as you strolled past the market stalls. The salty tang of fresh baked bread from the bakery mingled with the sweet floral perfume wafting from the cherry blossom trees swaying overhead.

"This all seems so...normal," you remarked with a sidelong glance at Gojo. "Hard to believe we're about to go toe-to-toe with a monstrous curse just beyond the city limits."

Gojo made a noise of agreement low in his throat. "Tread carefully. Malignant energy has a way of seeping into the crevices of everyday life before you even realize."

His cryptic warning sent a fresh surge of adrenaline zipping through your bloodstream. You clenched and unclenched your fists in anticipation, feeling the thrum of your heartbeat pulsing with each step. The paved streets transitioned to a packed dirt trail as you passed under the high stone archway marking the city's eastern boundary.

Gojo slowed his pace, scanning the treeline with those uncannily sharp senses of his. You couldn't stop the small shiver of unease that rippled through you as the forest closed in on either side of the path, brilliant sunshine dappling the underbrush in patterned shadows. You couldn't see or hear any signs of disturbance, but an unmistakable feeling of being watched prickled along the nape of your neck.

Seeming to read your sudden tension, Gojo tilted his head towards you fractionally. "Do you feel that?" he murmured under his breath.

You gave an imperceptible nod, adrenaline singing through your veins as your fingers unconsciously drifted towards the compact cursed tools holstered at your hip. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Gojo's subtle hand signal gesturing to fan out. Instantly on high alert, you veered off slightly to the right, grateful for Gojo's extensive training in non-verbal battlefield communication.

Forward you pressed in taut silence, straining your senses for any indication of the curse's presence. The forest sounds of rustling leaves and trilling birdsong seemed suspiciously...normal. Too normal. That's when it materialized without warning - a towering, amorphous entity comprised of roiling black miasma that blotted out the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy.

You froze in place, fingers instinctively closing around the hilt of your sword as an involuntary tremor of terror lanced through you. The cursed spirit descended in a chaotic swirl, rapidly taking the vaguely humanoid shape of a towering bestial creature. Despite the lack of discernible facial features, you could sense the menacing focus of its attention zeroing in on you and Gojo. A deep, guttural snarl seemed to reverberate from every direction at once.

You snapped into action on sheer muscle memory ingrained from your training, launching a volley of carefully aimed cursed tools to box in the spirit's movement.

But this was no mindless monster. It was shrewd and evasive, more so than Gojo had warned. With a resonating screech, it abruptly shifted form and shot forward straight towards you in a thick miasmic tendril.

You instinctively hurled yourself sideways, the trailing edge of the curse's strike grazing your ribcage and sending you tumbling through the undergrowth. White-hot pain blossomed across your side. Gasping for air, you pushed yourself upright, fingers scrabbling for purchase in the loamy soil as you tried to blink away the spots flickering across your vision.

"Eyes on me!" Gojo's baritone bark sliced through the chaos.

You whipped your head towards the sound of his voice just in time to witness a mind-bending blur of movement as he engaged the curse head-on. Purple-black tentacles of miasma lashed out, only to get effortlessly parried and severed by Gojo's blindingly fast cursed energy. But for every whiplike appendage he disabled, two more seemed to sprout in its place, forcing him to unleash a furious barrage of cursed energy blasts.

Scrambling to your feet, you winced at the searing pain now radiating through your entire torso. Gojo's eyes may have been metaphorically blindfolded, but his hyper-attuned senses clearly tracked your distress. "Get back!" He snarled over the demonic shrieks of the curse.

Like hell you were retreating. You were Gojo's first pupil, his most promising student if the rumors were true. This was your chance to prove your mettle and earn his trust on the battlefield. Drawing your sword, you poured every ounce of cursed energy into enhancing its deadly blade and let it fly in a blinding arc directly at the curse's grotesquely shifting form.

For a fraction of a second, the world seemed to still, the eerie silence shattered only by the high-pitched whistle of your sword spinning through the air. Then, with an explosive impact, it cleaved straight through the curse's torso...or what you assumed to be its torso based on its vaguely humanoid shape. A deafening roar of anguish tore through the forest as the cursed spirit began to rapidly disintegrate, breaking apart into smoldering wisps of miasma.

You allowed yourself a triumphant grin and started to straighten, already picturing the look of approval and pride that would be written across Gojo's stupidly handsome face. But your burst of victory was short-lived. With one final desperate lash, a thick tendril of the curse's dissipating form whipped out and slammed into your chest with staggering force. You felt the air violently expelled from your lungs as you were sent hurtling backwards, back slamming against the trunk of a massive oak tree with bone-jarring impact.

White hot agony detonated through your body as you crumpled into a heap at the base of the tree, struggling to draw breath past the searing pain. Bright sparks of color danced across your vision, the world fading in and out around you in muffled fragments of sight and sound. You were vaguely aware of Gojo yelling your name, but it sounded distorted and distant, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of blood in your ears.

Then he was there, looming over you, those obscured eyes boring into you with intense focus you could practically feel. His mouth was set in a grim line as his large hands roamed over you swiftly but carefully, assessing the damage with deft surety. When he prodded your ribcage, a ragged gasp was torn from your lips and dark spots threatened to consume your vision entirely. You faintly registered his deep rumble of a voice, the words indecipherable beneath the overwhelming waves of agony crashing over you.

Something soft and sweet and floral tickled your senses through the roaring in your ears. You wanted to ask about the fragrance, but unconsciousness was rapidly closing in. The last thing you were aware of before slipping into merciful oblivion was the feeling of strong arms scooping you up, cradling you securely to Gojo's powerfully built chest as the forest blurred past in green and brown smears. Then, nothing.

When you slowly drifted back to awareness, it was to the sensation of being gently jostled by rhythmic movement. Your eyelids felt heavy as lead weights, too monumental an effort to pry them open just yet. But your other senses were able to slowly piece together your surroundings.

The slight swaying told you that you were being carried, carefully cradled against someone's firm chest and shoulder. Gojo's familiar sandalwood-and-citrus scent, now mingled with the cloying floral sweetness you'd caught a whiff of before losing consciousness, enveloped you. The subtle up-and-down rocking combined with the warmth of his body against yours and the even thrum of his heartbeat made you feel inexplicably cozy and safe, like being wrapped in a heated blanket on a chilly morning.

You let out a sleepy murmur, slowly blinking your eyes open. The forest canopy above was streaked with shards of brilliant afternoon sunlight peeking through the lattice of leaves and branches. Gojo glanced down at the sound, his striking features taut with lingering tension and jaw firmly set.

"There you are," his low voice rumbled with unmistakable relief. "Thought you were going to sleep through the rest of the day."

Your brow furrowed as flashes of memory trickled back - the curse, the fight, the searing agony as you slammed into that tree trunk with bone-rattling force. With a wince, you instinctively pressed a hand to your ribcage, which was heavily bandaged beneath the tattered remains of your uniform top.

"Wha...what happened?" you rasped out, throat feeling as dry and brittle as burnt parchment.

"You happened," Gojo replied, a hint of that familiar teasing lilt finally returning to his tone though his expression remained grave. "Disobeyed my order to fall back and instead flung yourself into the fray like a deranged chaos tornado."

Heat flooded your cheeks at his casually derisive words. You opened your mouth to protest, to try vainly justifying your reckless actions, but he swiftly cut you off with a look.

"No, don't even try denying it. Your impulsiveness nearly got you killed today." His jaw tensed, azure eyes hardening behind the dark blindfold. "We finished it off, but not before it inflicted some nasty parting shots."

Gojo paused long enough to gingerly shift you higher against his chest, his arm tightening fractionally around you before continuing in that deep, resonant tone that brooked no argument. "From now on, you follow my lead in the field. No more wild stunts, understood? I can't risk having to continuously bail you out of trouble."

You bit your lower lip, a mortified flush burning your cheeks at the well-deserved chastising. Of course he was right. You had blatantly disregarded his instruction to fall back, too wrapped up in your bravado and desire to impress him.

"I...yes, I understand. I'm sorry, sensei. I made a stupid mistake," you mumbled, shamefaced.

His austere expression softened slightly at your contrition. Slowing to a halt, he carefully resettled your position in his arms so you were fully cradled against his chest like a child. His fingers brushed a few stray tendrils of hair back from your face in an unexpected tender gesture, the gentleness of it causing your breath to hitch.

"We all make mistakes when we're learning, my dear," he said gruffly. "The important thing is to learn from them and become better because of it. You'll get there eventually."

His hand lingered against your cheek for the span of a heartbeat, and you found yourself subconsciously leaning into his calloused palm, savoring the rough warmth of it. Up this close, you could make out the tiny flecks of midnight blue scattered through his brilliant azure irises. His masculine, woodsy scent combined with the sweet floral fragrance clinging to his skin in a heady, intoxicating blend that made your head spin.

Then, abruptly clearing his throat, Gojo straightened and pulled his hand away. "We should get moving while we have daylight left. Don't want you catching a cold in that state."

With long, purposeful strides, he set off once more down the forest path, movements remarkably fluid despite your added weight cradled in his arms. You let your head loll against his shoulder, suddenly overcome with bone-deep weariness. A few times you drifted in and out of a light doze, the steady rhythm of Gojo's steps lulling you into a trancelike state.

Eventually, the forest began to transition to more manicured spaces - orchards and farmland marking the outskirts of a village on the horizon. The fragrance of ripening fruit and freshly turned soil perfumed the air. In the distance, plumes of woodsmoke rose lazily from the first chimney stacks. Gojo's pace slowed fractionally.

"Nearly to my lodgings," he murmured. "Then we'll get you properly patched up and rested."

You hummed a vague noise of acknowledgement, lacking the energy for more. Truthfully, you didn't want this blissful pocket of tranquility where the world seemed to narrow to just you, Gojo, and the hazy calm between breaths to end. Selfishly, you tugged the edges of this peaceful moment around you like a comforting blanket, unwilling to shatter the illusion of domesticity it created - Gojo carrying you home after an arduous mission, tender reassurances and gentle caresses freely given. In these hushed instants, it felt like anything could happen. Something deeper than typical student-mentor affection.

But you knew it was just that - an illusion. One that was rapidly fraying around the edges the closer you drew to your destination. So you allowed your eyelids to drift shut once more, committing every nuance to memory. The lean power coiled in Gojo's body with each step, the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat against your cheek, the lingering traces of floral sweetness mingling with his familiar earthy scent.

All too soon, the reverie was shattered as Gojo's quiet baritone cut through the stillness. "We're here."

You reluctantly opened your eyes to find him gazing down at you with an inscrutable look, silvery bangs askew from your journey. As he swept inside and settled you on the bed with infinite care, you couldn't help but wonder if the tender way his fingers smoothed across your brow was simply your mind playing wistful tricks.

Gojo's touch lingered for just a moment, calloused fingertips lightly tracing the curve of your cheekbone before he drew his hand back. You tried not to read too much into the tender gesture, reminding yourself it was simply his way of assessing your injuries. Still, you couldn't quite banish the fluttering warmth it sent blossoming in your chest.

"Get some rest," he rumbled in that deep, unhurried drawl that never failed to send a shiver skating down your spine. "I'll fetch supplies to properly dress those wounds."

With that, he rose in one fluidly graceful movement and swept across the small but meticulously tidy room towards a hallway presumably leading to a washroom or storage area. Left alone, you allowed your eyes to drift closed on a weary exhale, suddenly acutely aware of the throbbing ache pulsing through your ribcage with each breath.

The familiar scent of sandalwood and citrus mingled with the lingering floral notes was everywhere, surrounding you in Gojo's uniquely masculine essence. You breathed it in deeply, willing it to soothe and relax you as your mind began to drift.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before the sound of footfalls broke you from your half-doze. Gojo reappeared in the doorway, sleeves neatly rolled up past his elbows and arms laden with a basin of steaming water, a sheaf of clean linen bandages, and an assortment of glass bottles and ceramic pots. He set the supplies down on a low wooden table beside the bed with studied meticulousness.

Unable to contain your curiosity at the sweet floral aroma that clung to him in a delicate cloud, you found yourself asking, "What...what is that fragrance?"

Gojo flashed you an enigmatic half-smile as he settled on the edge of the bed, deft hands already working to remove the makeshift bandages you'd hastily applied in the forest.

"Cherry blossom poultice," he replied, carefully peeling back the soiled linen wrappings to reveal the vivid mottling of blues, blacks, and purples marring the skin across your torso and ribs. You couldn't stifle a pained hiss of indrawn breath at the inflamed sight. Gojo's mouth tightened into a grim line. "That curse may have been a crafty adversary, but it was also saturated with poisonous flora and fauna. A full-body dose could be lethal if left untreated."

Your eyes widened in muted horror at the thought of how narrowly you'd skirted death yet again today. Gojo must have sensed your sudden spike of unease because his next words were spoken in a low, soothing rumble meant to reassure.

"Easy now, you're alright. I managed to mostly deflect and dispel the curse's attack with a barrier before it could fully envelop us." A wry twist of his lips. "Though I did get a hefty face full of the damned pollen for my troubles."

Gojo worked in silence, deft fingers gliding over your skin with the gentlest of touches as he secured the fresh bandages around your torso. You released a shuddering exhale, doing your best to avoid tensing under his careful ministrations. The cloying floral fragrance enveloping you both made you feel slightly lightheaded, senses heightened to an almost dizzying degree.

As Gojo leaned in closer to wrap the linen binding around your ribcage, you inhaled deeply—and immediately regretted it. The intoxicating aroma of cherry blossoms flooded your senses, viscous and sweet, simultaneously making your head spin giddily while liquid warmth unfurled low in your belly. You bit back a small, strangled sound of surprise at the overwhelming sensation.

Gojo froze, hands stilling against you. His head cocked ever so slightly, blindfold shifting as his brow furrowed. You watched his nostrils flare subtly as he scented the air, drawing in that same cloying fragrance.

"Gojo...?" you breathed his name, unable to disguise the husky rasp twining through it.

His strong jaw clenched visibly, throat working on a tight swallow. Those brilliant azure eyes you knew burned too intensely behind his blindfold suddenly seemed to smolder from beneath their obscuring veil. Without a word, Gojo resumed winding the bandages around you with deft efficiency, but his movements had grown noticeably stiff and stilted, muscles taut like finely drawn bowstrings.

You couldn't tear your gaze away from the rippling cords of tendon in his throat, mesmerized by the way they contracted and released with each tight swallow. An insistent throbbing had taken up residence low in your abdomen, sending molten tendrils of liquid heat licking through your veins. The lightheadedness grew more pronounced until you felt almost drunk on the addictive floral sweetness clogging the air.

Then, as Gojo shifted to secure the end of the bandage, the lightest whisper of his knuckles grazing your ribs made you Release a shuddery gasp that seemed indecent in its rawness. His head whipped towards you, body going preternaturally still, as if scarcely daring to breathe.

"Gojo," you rasped again, desperation fraying the edges of his name as that smoldering heat consumption you quickly intensified into a raging inferno. "I...I don't know what's happening, but I feel..."

You trailed off uncertainly, lips parting on shallow pants as your body waged a losing war with itself, nerves alight and senses overwhelmed by conflicting waves of need and fear. What was this feverish madness burning through your veins? Despite the blanket cocooning you, you felt deliriously overheated, skin flushed and tingling with hypersensitivity.

Gojo made a low, gravelly sound in the back of his throat - not quite a growl but infinitely more feral. In one blurring movement, he snatched your wrist and pressed two fingertips to the thunderous leap of your pulse point. You could have sworn his calloused digits seared your flesh with the intensity of his touch. He hissed a sharp curse through gritted teeth.

"Pollen toxin." The words emerged as a rumbling snarl more befitting a caged beast than a human. "Accursed flora. Aphrodisiac compounded by healing catalyst."

His hand was shaking almost imperceptibly where it still gripped your wrist in that punishing hold. When he raised his gaze to yours, it glittered with barely restrained hunger behind the smoldering azure glare - a predator watching its prey with hyperfocus intensity.

You instinctively shrank back slightly, fear and arousal swirling through you in a dizzying cyclone. "W-what do we do?" You stammered breathlessly.

Gojo's jaw worked furiously, each knotted tendon in his broad shoulders standing out in bold relief as if it were taking every ounce of his formidable willpower and control to hold himself back. When at last he spoke, his voice was low and strained to the point of breaking.

"We quell the toxin's influence..." His tongue flicked out to wet his lips in an unconscious, devastatingly sensual gesture that transfixed you. "By any means necessary."

The weight of his words - that deliciously sinful promise laced through the graveled rasp - slammed into you with staggering force. You let out a tremulous whine past your parted lips before you could stop yourself. That seemed to be the hairline fracture in Gojo's restraint.

He moved with the liquid grace of a predator, surging forward to cage you beneath his powerful frame with one corded forearm braced on either side of your head. The wild silver veil of his hair brushed your fevered cheeks as he leaned down until his mouth hovered a hairsbreadth from yours, ragged breaths mingling hotly.

"Last chance to tell me no, little one," he rasped harshly. "Because I won't be able to stop once I've tasted you..."

Instead of voicing protest, you arched helplessly into him with a keening mewl, already intoxicated on the delirious friction of your bodies aligned from abdomen to thigh. Gojo's jaw tensed, a muscle leaping beneath the stubbled hinge as he visibly wrestled the last dregs of his restraint. Then, with a low, defeated groan, he crushed his sinful mouth to yours in a branding kiss of pure liquid fire.

The moment Gojo's lips crashed into yours in that searing, desperate kiss, it was like a thousand lit matches had been set blazing through your veins. You opened for him in a broken gasp, welcoming the velvet rasp of his tongue as it stroked deep to taste you in a carnal claiming.

Gojo kissed you with a ferocious, unbridled hunger—all hints of his usual teasing restraint obliterated by the toxin blazing through his system. He devoured your mouth like a man dying of thirst, coaxing whimpering mewls from your throat with each greedy lap and nip of his talented lips and tongue.

Broad palms mapped the curves of your sides and waist in rough, possessive strokes before cradling the base of your skull to tilt your head for an even more scorching angle. All coherent thought disintegrated under the merciless onslaught of pure sensation as Gojo thoroughly plundered the recesses of your mouth, savoring your taste and scent like it was the elixir of life itself.

When the urgent need for oxygen became too great to ignore, he tore his mouth from yours with a guttural growl, harsh pants ghosting humid over your swollen lips. There was no reprieve, however, as Gojo immediately latched onto the slender column of your throat, laving and suckling at the thundering pulse point with fervent ardor.

You cried out sharply at the exquisite sting of his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, fingernails raking blunt crescents down his powerful back muscles in unbidden retaliation. If anything, it only seemed to stoke the smoldering fire in Gojo hotter and brighter. He ground his jaw against you, low rumbling groans of pure masculine satisfaction vibrating against your neck as he mouthed and laved a path of molten open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones.

Just when you thought the unbearable tension crackling between you would surely snap and consume you both whole, Gojo captured your lips again in an inferno of a kiss. You melted helplessly into the scorching heat of it, thighs parting instinctively as he settled his solid weight more firmly over you. A ragged whine tore from your throat as the hard ridge of his cock ground against your aching pussy through too many maddening layers of clothing.

With a frustrated growl vibrating in his chest, Gojo pinned you with his hips and reached between your bodies to tear at the wrappings securing your clothing. You watched with rapt fascination as those wickedly deft fingers made quick work of the fastenings and laces, exposing more and more fevered flesh to the slick glide of his calloused palms and mouth's scorching caresses.

Under that searing azure gaze obscured by the blindfold, you had never felt more bare, more exquisitely possessed by the intensity of his focused want. Gojo mapped every quivering inch of you with insatiable focus—branding a path of stinging love bites down the swell of your breasts, laving at the juncture of your inner thighs until your startled cries spiraled high into shamelessly wanton keens.

"Satoru...ahh! Please...I can't—" you gasped out in a wavering plea, trembling with the effort of withstanding the relentless onslaught on your senses. Every nerve felt scorched raw and electrified, each glancing caress igniting liquid fire in its wake. It was maddening, this exquisite torture of your senses being drawn out to the brink of snapping.

Drunk on the honeyed elixir of your combined intoxicating scents, Gojo only growled hungrily and rose to capture your lips once more. He poured every ounce of his elemental yearning into the plundering strokes of his tongue and nips of blunted teeth until you keened into the kiss with unbearable abandon, utterly overwhelmed.

Desperate, you wound your fingers into the thick silver tresses at his nape and tugged sharply—half plea, half demand swallowed by the ravenous crash of your joined mouths. To your shock, Gojo answered with a full-bodied shudder and an incoherent rumble of pleasure. He dragged himself inch by scorching inch away from you, lips clinging to yours until the last possible moment.

When you finally surfaced for air, Gojo was watching you with heavy-lidded intensity, chest heaving visibly. Stray tendrils of snowy hair fell in disheveled disarray framing his chiseled features, thoroughly wrecked and devastatingly sensual. You drank in the sight of him like the most tantalizing of ambrosia, lips swollen and kiss-bruised, unruly black cloth now tented obscenely over his straining cock.

"...not done with you yet," he rasped in that low, gravel-and-smoke tone that cinched desire into an exquisite knot at your core with each rumbled syllable. "Not even close."

Then, with a leonine grace at odds with his wild dissolution, Gojo prowled up your body to press you into the bed once more.

Gojo's intense gaze smoldered with undisguised hunger as he loomed over you, body taut with simmering restraint. His kiss-swollen lips curved into a wolfish grin, fingers trailing featherlight paths down your fevered skin until you trembled beneath his smoldering touch.

"So responsive," he rumbled in that gravel-toned rasp that seemed to vibrate straight through you. "I'm going to take such sweet torment unraveling you piece by exquisite piece, my dear."

True to his dark promise, Gojo set about blazing a scorching trail of open-mouthed kisses and teasing nips along the sensitive peaks and valleys of your body. Each maddeningly light caress and rasp of his stubbled jaw seemed to stoke the banked embers of want coiling low in your core into an inferno. You writhed shamelessly against him, desperate for friction, for release, for anything to douse the liquid flames licking through your veins.

But Gojo was relentless in his unhurried torment, heedless of your increasingly desperate pleas that dissolved into tremulous whimpers. With skilled hands and lips and teeth, he steadily unraveled your restraint into boneless want until all you could do was fist your fingers into the disheveled silk of his hair and hang on for the exquisite unbearable ride.

At last, when you teetered at the precipice of shattering into a thousand incandescent shards, Gojo claimed your lips in a searing, possessive kiss, swallowing your cries.

Gojo's kiss consumed you utterly—a ferocious melding of questing tongues and nipping teeth that robbed you of breath and higher cognition. You could only cling to the bunched muscles of his back and surrender yourself to the relentless onslaught of sensation as he mapped every ridge and plane of you with fervent ardor.

Calloused palms branded searing paths over your fevered skin, stoking the flames of desire raging through your veins ever higher until the air felt too thick to breathe. Every graze of Gojo's lips and roll of his powerful hips against yours ripped open-mouthed cries from your parted lips, urgency mounting to a crescendo.

You lost all sense of time and space, the world contracting to encompass only the joined rhythm of Gojo’s cock sliding against your soaked pussy, the heated rasp of entwined breaths, the exquisite drag of sweat-slicked skin against skin. Wave after wave of delirious sensation swelled and crested, carrying you under until only Gojo's name remained—a breathless litany falling from your lips over and over like a fevered prayer.

At last, when you teetered dizzily on the brink of your orgasm, Gojo's mouth found that electrifying confluence of nerves at the juncture of your shoulder. He suckled at the thundering pulse point, teeth grazing in a stinging promise, and you instantly shattered apart into thousands of fractal aftershocks. A broken, sobbing cry was torn from your very core as you felt a gush of fluid.

Through the whiteout haze, you were dimly aware of Gojo following you over that dizzying edge with a hoarse, guttural shout muffled against your sweat-dampened neck. He collapsed against you in a boneless sprawl, harsh breaths sawing from his heaving chest and mingling with the heated puff of your panting exhalations.

For long, suspended moments, you simply clung to one another, bodies thrumming with residual tremors of release. Gradually, your scattered senses began knitting themselves back together, awareness expanding once more beyond the microcosm of tangled limbs and mingled heartbeats.

The potent floral aroma still hung thick in the air, but its cloying, dizzying influence seemed to have finally abated from your brutally overwhelmed senses. You became aware of a dull throbbing ache reclaiming the space between your temples—the first tugs of an impending pollen sickness headache, no doubt.

Beside you, Gojo stirred with a low groan rumbling deep in his chest, blindfold slightly askew to reveal a sliver of those bright azure irises heavy-lidded with satiation. It was clear the toxin's hazy, lust-fueled madness had finally burned itself out in the wake of your animalistic humping. In its place remained a bone-deep lassitude weighing your tangled limbs into pleasant heaviness.

Gojo nuzzled against the slick curve of your throat, lips ghosting across the wildflower petals scattered there—faint purpling bruises in the shapes of his fervent mouth's passage. His voice rasped low and grave when he spoke at last.

"Well...that was certainly one way to burn through the excess pollen."

You startled into a soft huff of incredulous laughter that soon bubbled into fuller peals. Grinning wolfishly despite his apparent exhaustion, Gojo angled himself higher to bestow a lingering, openmouthed kiss that persisted even as your laughter slowly faded into blissful, languid quiet.

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