#Gojo is ‘I wanna show you my true power; I want to show off to you’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugarbooger513 · 3 years

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JJK Men x Insecure chubby Fem!reader

Today has been hard to think of myself positively, and I have friends who struggle with the same thing, so I thought I could indulge some people with some very loved characters reminding us that, no matter our size, we're perfect.

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Kento Nanami

Warnings: Insecurities, body dysphoria, Toji's gets spicy (sue me), suggestive at the end of Nanami's, tooth rotting fluff.

Satoru Gojo

- Let's be completely honest here, this man rarely feels insecure, if he ever does.

- He wouldn't be able to sympathize, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. In fact, it makes him care a lot more.

- His comfort methods aren't for everyone either, so be prepared. He's trying, give him that.

- Humor. That's what this man knows. Iykyk, this man deflects any form of trauma with his humor.

- If he notices it isn't working, then he'll come up with something else because he loves you. That love tells him that he has to try.

"Oh sweetie pie, I'm home!" Satoru's voice carries easily through the house, but you can't seem to care at the moment. Your cheeks still feel somewhat sticky from the tears that have fallen the past thirty minutes.

"Honey bun? I said I-" His voice cuts off, and you know you're caught. The bed shifts where your boyfriend lowers himself beside you. "Y/N, why are you crying?"

"I-I don't want to talk about it, Satoru." He removes his blindfold with a small chuckle. "Did your favorite anime character die?" "No." "You sure? You tend to sob when-" "I said I don't want to talk about it."

He freezes at the way you lash out at him. Yeah, something is actually wrong.

"Love," his voice softens in a way that shows how worried he is, "is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?" You're quiet for a minute, but you eventually scoot closer to him.

"You want me to hold you?" All you manage is a nod before more tears slide down your cheeks. His long arms encase you securely against him. "I can do that as long as you need. I'm here for you, Y/N."

The two of you stay like that, you crying softly into his uniform while he runs his hand up and down your back.

Eventually, your sobs turn into small sniffles, and you finally speak. "I.. I'm sorry for snapping at your earlier, Sato." He smiles at the loving nickname. "No, baby, I'm sorry for joking around. You wanna talk about it now?"

"I just... I was thinking about.. how many girls looks so much better than I do." He scoffs. "You're kidding, right?" "Sato.." "No, I mean that. It isn't a joke. Baby, we've been through this since day one. I. Want. You."

You hide your now blushing face against his chest. "But.. I just don't understand.." "Look at me, baby." When you do, his bright blue eyes seem to shimmer. "You're the love of my life. You're gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, and every other synonym to those that I'll have to get Nanami to teach me because I will remind you everyday until it gets through your thick ass skull."

His hand comes up to rest on your chubby cheek, where he starts to wipe away the drying tears. "I. Love. You. So. Freaking. Much. Y/N." Each word is punctuated with a kiss on a different part of your face, until he eventually meets your lips.

The small giggles you let out makes him smile. "There's that beautiful laugh! Come on, why don't I pop some popcorn and we go watch whatever you want on the TV?" Your shit eating grin makes him snort a bit of laughter. "Even if it ends in a favorite character dying?"

"I don't mind having to hold you a bit longer."

Toji Fushiguro

- This is also someone I don't think can really empathize with you and your insecurities.

- However, when this man falls he falls HARD

- He will do anything in his power to make you feel better.

- Well

- Anything he can do while still seeming nonchalant about it

- Lets talk about how this man would take matters into his own hands, with his own hands, to make sure you know how loved you are. (You couldn't have expected just fluff with him, give me a break y'all.)

"Y/N," Toji kicks his shoes off carelessly at the door, "I'm home." He raises a confused eyebrow when he looks around the house. Plates from your movie night yesterday lay strewn about the coffee table, still.

'She never leaves dishes out. That's weird.'

He starts to walk around the house, worry filling his chest. It just isn't like you to leave a mess, or to not greet him at the door. There's no way someone came and did something to you, right? No one is THAT dumb, surely.

When he hears the small sniffles coming from your shared bedroom, he breathes a small sigh of relief. "Y/N? I'm coming in." He pushes the bedroom door open to see you cuddling his pillow while laying on your side.

His eyes widen at the sight of your body trembling from the small sobs. "Y/N?" He walks around the bed to kneel in front of you. "What happened?"

"N-Nothing Toji. Sorry, I-I know the house is a w-wreck." "Shut up about the damn house. I don't care. Why are you crying?"

You finally sit up, which lets him sit beside you on the bed. "I just.. Bad day." "Who do I need to stab?" "T-Toji?! You can't solve everything by stabbing!" He shrugs a bit. "You can try."

He smiles sweetly when you slap his arm. "That isn't funny." "Hmmm, but it made your cheeks flush." "Toji Fushiguro!" "Alright, alright. You wanna tell me what's wrong now?"

"I just.. looked in a mirror for too long, babe. Don't worry about-" "I'm lost. What do you mean you looked in one for too long?" You sigh, knowing he hates vague answers.

"My body is disgusting me today, Toji." He scrunches his eyebrows and leans in a bit closer to you. Your face heats up from the slight glare in his eyes.

"Looks the same to me." "Toji, I-" "Correct yourself." His already deep voice seems to drop even lower. Your entire body trembles. "S-Sir."

"Good girl. Now, let me get this straight. You don't think you're attractive." You shake your head, suddenly feeling the tears come back to your eyes. "Why not?" "J-Just.. my body.. it isn't.." "Skinny?" The word hurts your heart, but you nod, knowing he expects some sort of answer.

"So? You're exactly what I need, Y/N." You glance up to meet his loving gaze. "N-need?" "Don't play dumb. You know I need you. Now, we have to fix those insecurities."

He stands, offering his hand out to you. When you take it, he pulls you to your feet.

"Now," he groans as he lays back down on the bed, "I've had a tiring day at work. I want you to strip and come take a seat." "A-a seat?" His smirk tells you what you need to know before he elaborates. "I AM rather starved. Come on, I'm pretty impatient."

"To-Sir, I'm too.." "Heavy? Try again. You aren't getting out of this." He snaps his fingers, and the sound runs deep into your core. His eyes watch you hungrily as you start to get out of your pants.

"Now, for every one of your orgasms, I want to hear 'I'm Toji's pretty princess.' Understand?" "Y-yes sir."

You have no idea what posses you, but you finally let out you own witty comment. "You could at least take me to dinner first."

"You cheeky brat, don't worry. I have plans for your meal."

Hope you don't mind being hoarse for a while. You had to repeat just how pretty you were a number of times.

Choso Kamo

- SWEETEST MOTHER FUCKER I SWEAR

- He doesn't see a single flaw in you, honestly.

- Plus, he doesn't really understand beauty standards. All he knows is he loves every inch of you.

- Nothing goes unloved by this big ass baby.

- You crying would probably bring him to tears because he feeds off your emotion.

- But there is no doubt this man will do anything and everything to see your smile again.

- A true king who just wants his queen as happy as she makes him.

He left you for maybe an hour. Maybe. Choso just had to run and pick up a movie from Yuji.

"Angel, Yuji said that we have to-" He drops the movie the instant he sees tears in your eyes. "L-love? What happened?"

He rushes to your side and wastes no time wrapping you in his strong embrace. Your hands grip his shirt in a feeble attempt to pull him closer.

"What happened? Do you need something? A doctor?" His eyes are scanning your body for any signs of pain. His hands running gently over your back, arm, sides, but everything seems normal.

"I-I'm okay, Cho." "No, you aren't. Please, angel, don't lie to me." His own eyes start to fill with tears, but he tries to will them away. He knows he shouldn't be crying, but seeing you in any pain hurts him just as much.

"Cho, I just.. It's stupid." His large hands cup your face so you're forced to meet his eyes. "Nothing that makes you cry is stupid. Absolutely nothing, my love."

"I.. I tried to put on a hoodie of yours because I was cold." He blinks in confusion. "Was.. was it dirty?" "No I.. I stretched it out.." he tilts his head.

"Is that all?" You nod, but even more tears come to your eyes. "I just hate how big I am.. I thought you would find it cute to come home and see me in your clothes but.. I just messed them up.." He stands, suddenly walking into the kitchen. "C-Cho?"

"I bought some of your favorite ice cream. You know, the kind you always crave on your period. I figure we can cuddle and you can enjoy it while we watch a movie."

"I- I don't really want anything to eat." He smiles, still grabbing it and a spoon. "I know, but just in case. Listen," he places the carton on the table next to you, "you're gorgeous. Every part of you just screams beauty. Nothing could ever change that. Not your size, not you stretching out a stupid hoodie, not you crying, nothing."

He opens the carton, only to get a spoonful out and kneel in front of you. "Open up, angel." You do as he says and allow him to feed you the ice cream. You can't help but smile as you eat it.

His index finger wipes a few old tears from your cheeks. "There's that smile I love. Now, I think we need a movie and some cuddles. How does that sound?" You can only nod, absolutely floored by how much Choso truly loves you.

No more negative thoughts came to your mind while you laid against his chest. He even took a few times to feed you more ice cream throughout the movie.

Oh yeah, he totally bought new hoodies in a bigger size so you could wear them around the house without fear of stretching them.

Kento Nanami

- KING ENERGY

- You can't tell me this man doesn't want someone who acts as his pillow. Come on.

- That being said, Nanami knows how it is to be insecure.

- Whether it's over body insecurity or not, that can be argued either way. Still, insecurities aren't something he's ignorant about.

- On days where you can't seem to like your body, he'll do whatever you need.

- Need to be alone? No problem. Need someone to talk to you? Covered. Just need to be told you're loved? He'll tell you as many times as it takes.

- However, he can't help but be blunt. That's just who he is.

- He does it out of love for you, though. He never wants you to believe something that isn't true.

It's really hard for you and Nanami to get the same day off of work, and today was no different. Since you were the one working today, Nanami decided to take up cleaning the house and preparing dinner. He would also insist on doing the dishes, but he knew better. You never allow him to do all of the work.

He watched the clock hit five thirty and smiled. No doubt, that was your car he heard pull into the driveway. Now that you were home, he could surprise you by telling you that he managed to get the next five days off, which matched your schedule.

The front door opens, and he's quick to call out a "Welcome home, dear. Dinner will be done soon." He turns his body, preparing to catch you in his embrace as usual. However, all that happens is you call back, "Thanks, Ken."

His eyebrows furrow, and he quickly takes dinner off the stove so he can go check on you. He's not one to forget anniversaries or anything like that, so his mind is going through any possible reason you just called him Ken.

"Bad day at work, dear?" He wipes his hand on his apron as he comes around the corner. You were already sitting on the couch, eyes on your phone. "Yeah, I guess." "Okay," he sighs and sits beside you, "would you like to talk about it?" When you finally look at him, his eyes widen. Your eyes are puffy, as if you had been crying.

"Y/N.." "It's just coworker drama, Ken, don't worry too much about it." He scrunches his face. Those women you work with always pissed him off. He's noticed them staring at him whenever he brings you lunch. "Well, humor me a bit. What happened today?"

He just knows you can't resist gossiping with him after a work day. "I-I don't want to repeat it, Ken." The worried look in his eyes makes you whimper. "What?"

"I'm not used to you calling me 'Ken' at home." "Sorry, honey. It's nothing you did." He smiles softly and reaches to cup one of your cheeks in his hand. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me?" You do. God, you do because you know you'll cry again and he'll be here to hold you through it.

"They started talking about you." "Me?" "Yeah," you look at your hands, already feeling your chest tighten, "and started laughing at how you're.. settling for someone who is as big as I am.."

Nanami's soft looks suddenly turns harsh. How dare they say stuff like that? What's worse is he's sure they knew you could hear them!

"Really?" When you nod, a tear falls onto your lap. "It just.. really hurt knowing that I'm not the only one who thinks that." "Y/N.." He pulls you into a hug with a soft sigh.

"Don't think like that. Dear, if I wanted anything different than what I have now, you would know it." You sigh and cuddle into his warm embrace. "I know, but-" "But nothing, my love. I love you, only you, forever you. Do you understand?" You glance up and he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Yeah.. I love you too, Kento." "I have an idea." "Uh huh?" His smirk has you worried. "Well, we both have the next five days off.." "We do?!"

The excitement in your voice has him chuckling. "There's my pretty laugh. Yes, we do. I'm thinking on your first day back.. you go in with a ring on your finger."

You blink in confusion. "K-Kento, you don't-" "Oh I do. Am I the person to joke about wanting to marry you?" Your eyes start to fill, yet again, with tears. However, these tears make Nanami also tear up a bit.

"Are you... asking..?" "I have a ring just for you in my suit jacket, Y/N. Just say you'll marry me." He isn't really expecting you to jump on him, so when you do, he falls from the couch to the floor. "You know I'll marry you, Ken!"

The two of you share a long kiss, complete with tears and laughter. "Well, now that that's decided. I think we should get a head start on something." "What would that be?"

He stands before securing you in his arms bridal style. "The Prehoneymoon." "That isn't a thing, honey." He smirks before playfully smacking your ass. "For you, Mrs. Nanami, anything is possible."

@katgalle @savonline

#jjk headcanons #nanami kento x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #choso x reader #satoru gojo x reader #nanami fluff #toji fluff #choso fluff #gojo fluff

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erensproudsimp · 3 years

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One Night Stand

Gojo Satoru x reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary : Working as a stripper, it was your job to please men for your daily bread until the day you met a handsome man offering to give you a ride back home, naughty things happening along the way.

Word count : 2.4 k

Looking at yourself in the mirror in the changing room all decked up in your glittery lingerie, ready to put on a show for disgusting men. Painting your lips a bright red, you smacked them together to spread the colour. Being a stripper sure brought a lot of money in which made you so happy but the fact that you had to please men for it didn't sit right in you. Taking a deep breath, you exited the room, your five inch heels clacking the surface with your each step. Gesturing your colleagues a 'hi' by waving your hand, you entered the area where the clientele would be.

Electronic music echoing around the entire room, gracefully you walked to your respective pole with the other stripers going to theirs. Prepping yourself up and warming up a little, you made sure you were perfect to earn more money. Led lights falling on your being as you were made among the centres of attraction for people to feed their eyes on your show. Placing your manicured hand on the cold pole, the other on your hip, you waited for people to enter the club so that you could start dancing. Your golden lingerie really brought out your curves and your sex appeal. Sparkling under the stage light, feeling like the bad bitch you are, you could bet your ass that money would be flying like nothing in your pockets.

Once people started entering the club, you started your performance to attract them to you. Gliding your heels on the floor, you split your legs, synchronizing your movements to the beat of the song currently being played, your sensuality bursting into the most vibrant dance. Your legs extended like a primal ballerina as you stood up, brushing your hair off your face before dragging it down your chest to finally grab your pole.

For the most part, you felt as though the front people were your main audience unaware of two bright blue eyes analyzing your every move. As you turned your body, your eyes caught caught a man sitting not far away in the back, him less adept at hiding his gaze than you. He had the kind of face that made you stop in your tracks. One glance at him was enough to make you fall on your knees for him. He dropped his eyes momentarily before looking away, his head tilted on one side supported by his arm placed on the couch, a hopeful smile playing on his lips as he pushed his dark glasses back.

Ignoring him, of course, you continued dancing making old men's pocket hurt. At some point, you became bored with staying on the stage and got off to approach your clients closer. Catwalking nearer to the man who caught your attention, you halted to the couch beside him where a blond man wearing glasses was drinking what seemed to be a glass of whiskey. Licking your lower lip, bending down to drag your index finger on his cheeks, you saw in the corner of your eye, the white haired man staring at you with a frown. More money thrown you, you sat on the man still sneaking peaks at your main interest for the night to see if your actions were affecting him.

Not so long later, you got bored of the blond guy, blowing a kiss at him, you finally went over to your target. Oh lord, to say he was just handsome was an understatement of his true attractiveness. He was beyond gorgeous, having the beauty equivalence of probably a god, he was radiating so much power. Dressed in a tight white shirt half buttoned, his abbs see through, with black pants, he laid on the furniture with crossed arms. However, upon seeing you approaching him, he opened them, placing them on the couch beside his shoulders.

Sitting next to him, you inclined yourself towards him, your hand on his thigh.

"Enjoying this night?"

"Now that you're close to me I sure am enjoying it more," he flirted.

"Oh really, is there any other thing I can do to make your night even better handsome?" you cooed in his ear.

"Hoooo? you'd do anything?"

"A n y t h i n g."

"Well then if you're insisting, please yourself on me, that would make me happy", he smugged.

Something about him was so alluring, from his appearance to his melodious voice, it made you want to know how his lips move in a kiss, how his hands move around your curves.

"As you wish dear sir."

Wasting no time, you hopped on his lap, your legs spread on his each side. Your hands resting on his shoulder playing with his hair from the back, you gazed into his eyes, his glasses falling his nose bridge. Irises so blue, as though containing all the blues of the sky to the ocean spanning the galaxy. Hell, they might even be the definition of a black hole due to their insane gravitational pull though which anyone could be sucked into.

Straddling his thighs, you rocked your hips back and forth, you grinded on him.

Just swaying to the music in the background, you traced his jawline with your tongue. Not even once did the man touch you as he just watched you do whatever you wanted. His smirk was like liquid adrenaline was being injected into your blood stream making your body tingle.

"Look at you, ignoring your work to grind on me, what a dirty slut you are", whispering in your ear he grabbed your hips to lift you and turn you so that your ass was right on his growing bulge.

Raising yourself up and down, you bounced on him. Intoxicated by the alcohol and cigarettes in the air, your vision blurry, hands moving down your boobs to your waist. Twerking on him, you felt him growing bigger. You bent back, your head placed on his shoulder, giving him a subtle smile. His hot breath fanned on your face, he smelt like booze with a faint vanilla. Cupping your breasts with his big hands, you slapped them away as you stood up to sit next to him. Kissing his cheek with your one hand on his other side of his face, you felt something entering your bra; the man was stuffing a bundle of money in.

Wingling your fingers, you waved him bye as you were going in the changing room to freshen up yourself. That was a lot of money he gave you, you thought while counting but there was one odd thing in it.

There was his business card in it. There was his phone number in it. Was this his way of telling you to contact him?

Shrugging your thoughts off, you typed him a message.

You : Hey handsome, so what's up with the business card?

Him: When does your shift ends?

You: Midnight.

Him: Great. You'll see a white limousine outside. Wanna come in for a ride at home?

A gorgeous man offering to give you a lift? Damn you couldn't miss this opportunity.

You: Sure thing, see you later.

After fixing your makeup and adjusting your clothes, you went out to slay the night until your little date. You couldn't wait until then.

When your shift was finally over, you rushed to change into your black mini satin dress you wore coming to work as well as ensuring you looked charming.

Your black handbag over your shoulder, you went outside, the fresh air of the cold night hitting your face. Lungs feeling so fresh, you were excited to see him again.

Indeed there was a white limousine parked at the entrance of the club. Upon seeing you arrive, the man asked the driver to unlock the doors so as to let you inside.

"Thank you so much for this offer, Mr?

" Oh please, name's Gojo Satoru but you can just call me Gojo", he said loosening his tie to remove it. Goodness, that was hotter than the core of the earth mixed with the sun's heat.

"Sure thing, Gojo~", seductively you said while you took a place on a seat beside him.

"Care for some wine?" he demanded while pouring a glass.

"Why not?"

"So, where do you live?" Gojo asked handing you the glass.

After telling him your address, he signaled the driver who understood the message and pulled up the black windshield to leave both of you in private.

The bitter yet sweet liquid warmed your body making you feel more relaxed after a long work. Throwing your head back, you let the wine disperse in all your veins, Gojo watching you while drinking his.

"I loved your lapdance, it was so erotic and you looked so...hot," he complimented scooching closer to you.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he removed his glasses to place on the counter nearby. He stroke a finger down your throat, making you shiver. Holy shit that felt good.

"Not going to lie but you caught my attention the moment I saw you dancing on the stage. That golden lingerie hugging your perfect curves was enough to make me drool for you", whispering in your ear while his hand was sliding the strap of your dress off your shoulder.

More shivers down your spine.

Leaning in his touch, your hands reached to unbutton his shirt. Lips on your neck. Hot. Sinful. Goosebumps rose up your flesh. Gojo's shirt was on the floor, his chest threatening to make you swoon. It was so hard not to stare at the most beautiful male body you've ever seen.

"Love what you're seeing?" his voice came out husky.

"Very much", you replied before colliding your lips with his.

Big, warm hands stroke up your torso to cup your breasts. You jerked at the bold move, moaned in his mouth.

Feeling his smirk, he pulled back trailing his tongue down your neck to your collarbone before drawing back. As you straightened your back, his hands unzipping your dress.

His eyes went big when he saw that you weren't wearing a bra. His gaze caressed your plump boobs. Wasting no more seconds, he attacked the area with his mouth making you yelp.

"Fuck's sake, you're so gorgeous", he complimented in between sucking your nipple.

Your stomach clenched. Never had you craved a man with such hunger, never had you been more aware of your own femininity so much.

Pulling away, Gojo turned to take something from the table counter behind him. Taking this moment to take a deep breath to calm your quick heartbeats, you removed your hair from your face. Curious to know what he was doing, you tried to sneak a peak until he turned around to face you, in his hand, an orange slice.

Your head was filled with questions.

"Open your mouth", he ordered and you obeyed, of course.

"stick your tongue out."

Doing as he asked, you took it out as he pressed the fruit on it making its juices spreading throughout your mouth, even spilling down your jaw to your neck. The citric acid running down your skin so slowly as Gojo trailed his tongue down chasing all the droplets, his other hand holding your head by your hair.

"Hmmmm"

"You really like me licking you huh?" Gojo smirked.

"Ooooooohhh"

Unbuckling his pants, he slid them down leaving him in his boxers, his hardened dick pressed, like you were in your soaked panties. Unable to resist the temptation, you pulled them down releasing it from its trap. His dick sprung free, Gojo could no longer contain the heat he felt inside of him to bury himself deep in you.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked before taking off your underwear.

"Why would I after how wet I am for you?"

Loving your answer the man tore the cloth from you revealing your soft folds to him.

"I hope you can handle me, I'm not going to go easy on you~", Gojo warned teasingly placing his member at your entrance.

"Go ahead, let's see if you can wreck me because I'm pretty sure I can handle you", you sneered.

"Heh~ well, we'll see about that in a few", he said before thrusting into you without any warnings.

"Ah!"

Throwing your one leg on his shoulder to gain a better position to fuck you, Gojo was not slow into gaining speed. This man was like an animal, so violently pushing and pulling in and out of you.

Your moans and heavy breaths was so loud, you were sure that the driver was hearing everything but Gojo didn't care about it one single bit. All that mattered to him at that moment was to fuck you into oblivion.

Right before either of you could come, Gojo pulled out to turn your body on the car couch, your boobs pressed against the leather, your ass lifted up as Gojo inserted himself again in you. This time you couldn't help it but let out whimpers.

"What's with the whimpers? I thought you could handle it, didn't you say so?" he ridiculed you.

Lost in a haze, you could barely hear his words, only feel his thrusts deep in you. He didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

He grabbed your hand and pressed it against your stomach.

"Can you feel how deep I am into you right now? You like it don't you? Being fucked like the shameless whore you are?"

"Ahhh-yes I do, I do."

Feeling your climax getting closer and closer, you gripped the couch for dear life as you were going crazy with this insane anount of pleasure.

"Ah- Gojo-I-I'm-"

"It's okay my love, you can release it, I'm close too."

It wasn't long before you were screaming his name as he filled your insides with his hot fluid. Pulling your hair as he did so, he collapsed on the couch beside with you laying on top of him rubbing circles on his chest.

Remembering that you had to get off to go home, you took your clothes from the floor and wore them while Gojo was admiring you.

You wished that this could last forever but alas it was just a one night stand as Gojo left you at your home saying a final goodbye to never meet again.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

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nameless-shrimp · 3 years

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HANGING BY A MOMENT || SATORU GOJO

You and Satoru Gojo were the strongest together; some even said you both were the most powerful duo. However, after the incident that happened, it was questioned whether you were the most strongest with your mindset.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Type: One-shot

Warnings: Mentions of suicide/implied suicide, depression, heavy angst with character death, swearing, and grammar errors.

Notes: Because I like to hurt my heart a lot. This is pretty bad, not gonna lie, so I'm sorry if it's terrible.

The thing about Satoru Gojo was that he was the strongest.

It was shown through the cursed techniques that he portrayed. Whenever there was a small cry for help, he could sense the weaknesses of the curses and was able to be exorcised within a matter of seconds to minutes, or maybe, less than an hour. He was too good for the jujutsu world.

However, beneath all of the powers that he was able to show off, what was the most strongest of all is his love for you. And—it really did start after you were assigned to train with him at first, when he was a second-year and you were the first-year.

Both of you battled through everything together; you both became the most powerful duo. Cocky smirks and cheeky grins were shown after each curse was exorcised and you were there for him throughout his own mental battles as well, whilst he did the same for you.

But as time went on, it suddenly began to worsen for you, and you weren’t sure if it was due to the stressful order of the higher ups or maybe, it was because of the horrendous scenes that you were forced to witness every single time you walked out the door for a mission.

With your husband at your side, Satoru always found his way to be there for you.

Satoru knew about your sudden depression that hit you so hard, almost as if a tidal wave had swept your voice away and every night, he heard you cry about having to risk your life on a daily basis. He couldn’t bring himself to go to work most days, leaving Nanami the work to pick up after him, and Satoru knew you were a priority, but the innocents around the world were just as important too.

However, whenever you broke down crying, wanting the mental pain to stop, Satoru could only hold onto you and give you soft kisses on your neck, forehead, hands—anywhere. He wanted you to calm down, to be safe, to be trusted, and to be happy.

“I love you,” Satoru whispered close to your ears, holding you close to his chest, not minding the tears that were dripping onto his bare chest. He sighed, clutching onto you tightly. “I love you; you’re not alone. You’re going to get through this. You’re the strongest person I know, baby, you’ll manage.”

“I know,” your voice croaked, and his heart felt as if he was losing its pieces. He couldn’t stand seeing you in so much mental pain.

As time progressed, you avoided going to the sessions with the students, and they all relied on Satoru to pick up the pace with everyone. He couldn’t blame you though, you didn’t love the life you had as a jujutsu sorcerer, and Satoru kept up a happy face in front of his students. Sometimes, taking them out to dinner and annoying Nanami helped get him through the day, but most nights, you were underneath the covers, frightened by the past trauma that soared through your head.

The nights were endless, but Satoru remained by your side. With every pull to his chest and kiss to the forehead, it eased your breakdowns a little bit more. Satoru couldn’t blame you for acting the way you did. The sight of blood, murder, indescribable and unforgivable crimes of assault were all over the streets as a jujutsu sorcerer; this wasn’t something you had asked for and you simply wanted it to stop—to make it all fucking stop.

“The life you have now isn’t for you, you don’t have to walk this path anymore if you don’t want it,” Satoru explained to you one night, where your breath was heaving against his chest and you stared at the minimal ceiling above you. “Nanami quit. He couldn’t take this shit anymore either, so you can do the same.”

“And what about you?” You questioned, trailing your fingers along his.

He smiled at you, comfort growing within the blue aura gaze of his eyes. “I love you. I’m supporting you with whatever you wanna do, especially if it’s best for you.”

And—well, that lasted for one night.

The higher ups had assigned you a mission, despite the fact that you avoided the majority of your sessions with the students and that you declined most of the missions you received. While Satoru was out in Tokyo with his first-years, you laid in your bed, covers pulled up to your neck as you read the message that was sent to you by Principal Yaga. It turned out that there was a special grade curse that was inhabiting a college campus and it needed an immediate exorcision.

You have taken out multiple special grade curses; most of the time it was with Satoru, especially when you both were still students at Jujutsu Tech, and you knew that this would’ve been a breeze. However, you haven’t trained in about two months; you knew that you were rusty, you knew that your mind was lost in its own shadows and your thoughts wandered to different directions. It wasn’t the best bet for you to go fight this special grade curse on your own, but—for some reason, a part of you decided to take control.

The moment you left the house, you contacted Satoru that you would be out on an important mission, and despite the multiple times he tried to call you, you declined every one of them. The higher ups had their ways, and you always ignored what they said, not minding their conservative viewpoints to slash your own opinions of them; they had their own despicable tasks, and perhaps, this was one of the missions that you’d be falling in for their act.

It didn’t take long until you realized you were next to burning buildings and the bodies of innocent students were laid out in front of you. It was a breeze fooling around with the special-grade curse, and it had that cocky grin on its face every time it tried to make a move on you, but with every swift dodge, it only caught itself in its own tangled web.

However, you felt your movements to be fast and sturdy, though it was all hollow. Nothing but emptiness was washing over you as you only kept your arms crossed while dodging every physical attack that the curse tried to unleash on you. Their techniques were weak, as you always thought, and you never could stop yourself from laughing because you knew you sounded like your husband.

A part of you wanted it all to vanish and have this come to an end. And with one glance of the burning buildings around you as you bent down to look at the decaying bodies that were surrounding your presence, you felt a strong surge of power growing within you.

Before you knew it, you decided to flash a smile, and finally make it all come to an end.

“Sat—”

“Don’t.”

“Satoru!”

“Don’t fucking get in my way.”

Yaga attempted to get in the way of Satoru, who was stopping him from coming into the building. With an unpleasant look on his face, Yaga grabbed ahold of Satoru, ignoring the fact that Satoru did not use Infinity, and then pushed him against the wall, making eye contact with the white-haired man whose eyes hid beneath the blindfold.

Yaga didn’t admit it, but he knew it.

Satoru’s eyes were pooled with sorrow underneath his blindfold, and maybe, like one of these situations, Satoru was thankful to have worn a blindfold every day for his life. At least no one could see how much suffering he was going through; one moment he felt his heartbeat stop its pace, and another, it continued to beat rapidly, such as when Yaga caught him off guard and now his back was against the wall.

“Is it true?” Satoru gritted his teeth, placing his hands on the grip of Yaga’s. “Fucking tell me if it’s true.”

“Satoru…” Yaga’s voice lowered and he looked away, not wanting to admit the news of his wife’s death right in front of him. He closed his eyes and scrunched up his nose in displeasure.

With that expression, Satoru got his answer. He pursed his lips, unsure if he should cry or let out a frustrated scream, but he did neither. Instead, he tightened his lips in a thin line, holding back a choke, and then asked, “how did… what happened…”

“Satoru,” Yaga sighed, lowering his grasp on the man and then he placed his arm down, finally letting Satoru go from his grip. “You don’t need to—”

“Like hell,” Satoru interrupted angrily. “Tell me what the hell happened.”

“We don’t know,” Yaga cautiously spoke at the mourning man in front of him.

“How the fuck do you not know?! You’re telling me nobody knows how my wife di—”

“The higher ups assigned her a mission for a special grade,” Yaga explained, turning his gaze away from Satoru. Clearly, not even Yaga, himself, wanted to talk about such depressing matters. “Y/N agreed to it immediately. The curse was exorcised, but her life was taken in the process of it.”

“No fucking way,” Satoru quipped, stomping on his foot. “She’s not that stupid. She wouldn’t allow herself to die so easily to a special grade. We went through so much shit together. And you’re telling me her life was taken away from it?”

“Sato—”

“You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Satoru…”

“God,” Satoru grunted, placing his palms on his warm forehead. There were too many emotions running through his mind; perhaps anger had gotten in a fight with sadness, and now both of these mixed emotions were the process of his thoughts. Nonetheless, he was drowning himself, and he wasn’t sure of where to actually process the news he was receiving in order to get to shore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re not serious, are you?”

Yaga remained silent, unsure of how to properly help the grieving man.

Without another word, Yaga stepped aside, allowing the entrance for the front door to be wide open. Unsure of what Yaga’s thoughts were processing, Satoru didn’t hesitate to push the doors open aggressively as the man he just walked past just kept his head down, not wanting to pester Satoru any further with his actions.

The audible footsteps was enough to make the atmosphere of the room go shallow. And once the door was open to the infirmary, the sight of your corpse was enough for him to stand there. It was impossible to have you look so beautiful despite your figure to be in a pale hue and your eyes were closed. His legs were frozen and he felt his fingers twitch, and without hesitation, he looked down, not minding the people in the room that had their eyes on him, contemplating on the actions he was going to do.

People knew Satoru as the strongest. That’s what everyone saw him as, the balance for everything, and despite the man that he was, Satoru consistently remained high and mighty but still protected those that weren’t as powerful as him. He really was the strongest.

But with a loud, piercing scream that escaped his lips and echoed throughout the hallways—for Satoru to be the strongest, it seemed that it wasn’t the case anymore.

The rumors spread very quickly.

With how powerful you were, and Principal Yaga was there to witness how much potential you portrayed and that you were able to outmatch Satoru in your matches with him when you were both students, it didn’t take long for theories to pop up. And with every speculation wavering in the air, Satoru wasn’t sure if his own students and faculty were trying to destroy him more than he already was or if they were suffering through your death just as much as he was.

Satoru could even hear Yuji’s words, with his face stuffed with his lunch, Yuji barely spoke out, “do you think L/N-sensei did it on purpose…? Maybe she allowed herself to di—”

A smack on his face was audible and it seemed like Nobara scolded him for bringing you up with Satoru’s presence around.

The words were exhausting; Satoru couldn’t bear with the rumors and speculations of your sudden death. It wasn’t easing the sudden sharp pain that his heart would get at the sight of your favorite pastry at the bakery or the lollipops he’d avoid eating due to the fact that they were your favorite flavor. He couldn’t take it anymore, and it was gnawing him deep down underneath his flushed skin.

“Gojo-sensei?”

He heard Yuji’s words, and his students were staring at him, keeping his head down on the table with his fists clenched. Satoru couldn’t be angry with his students. They were just as unhappy about the situation as he was, but there was no lie in the air when Satoru knew that he was grieving the most from your sudden loss.

Satoru didn’t say a word. He got up from the table next to his first-years and then left to go to another room—he wasn’t sure where he was going; anywhere but there, or really, anywhere to get to you, somehow.

He ignored the waves of the other faculty members and Satoru kept his gaze down, wondering if you’d scold him for just leaving the kids behind without a single word or—or—or the sound of your voice; the soothing, so comforting, and gentle voice you had whenever he felt mellow and down on himself. He could practically hear you speak to him with his own ears, suggesting to go out for ice cream or that you were there for him whenever he needed to speak out his own mind.

Satoru’s hands ticked as he turned the knob of the door in front of him and was invited with dust falling onto his face. He fought back a sneeze and then waved the particles away, and he invited himself to your own office. He remembered you called it your little ‘getaway’ from the other faculty members and the students, and the only person that was really allowed to be in this room was Satoru.

Satoru sat down on the chair, not minding the dust, and his eyes gazed upon on the brown wooden frame of your marriage day. His heart felt warm, but it didn’t take long for it to fall into its empty space again, and he clenched his fists, feeling so incomplete and confused.

It had been three months since you died.

Satoru listened to everyone’s rumors; maybe you did decide to let yourself die easily to a curse, but he knew you from the bottom of his heart—or so he thought. You knew you wouldn’t go that route and you’d give it your all; he felt confused, too confused, and with the kick of his feet, he placed his feet on your old desk and then tilted his head down.

“Sorry sweetie,” he muttered quietly. “I know you didn’t like it when I put my feet on your desk.”

Satoru laid his head back, staring up at the blank ceiling. He wasn’t sure of why you decided to take on a dangerous mission after you had avoided keeping in contact with the school for so long, and he wasn’t aware that you’d go on such a mission without his assistance or at least, you left without any thought into it. He knew you, he could’ve sworn he did, and Satoru remembered the nights that you’d cry in his chest about the nightmares you’d get or that you were tired of the endless battles and you were tired—just tired—you were so fucking tired and mentally drained of the chaos you had to endure as a jujutsu sorcerer.

Part of Satoru couldn’t blame you for what you did. The life you both shared was exhausting, but he continued to remain by your side no matter what happened. With every curse exorcised and that accomplished grin on your face, he fell in love with your capabilities and your strength as well as who you were as a person; at least, he knew you were someone he wasn’t ever going to lose from his heart.

Satoru wanted to scream again, but instead he didn’t.

He trailed his gaze to his feet that were still on your abandoned desk, still lost in confusion for your actions. But he knew that sitting around and wondering about the ‘what ifs’ wasn’t going to do anything for him. Perhaps you did let yourself get taken away so soon—maybe you did decide to choose suicide, or maybe that special-grade was stronger than you thought—than he thought.

Regardless, sitting around and wondering about what actually happened wasn’t going to bring you back. What happened had happened; you died, and it was that. Though, it was hard to grasp, of course it was, Satoru loved you tremendously and losing his other half had struck his heartstrings to the point where they had snapped.

Satoru sighed, not wanting to get stuck in the lost void any longer.

He looked at the emptiness of your desk, all that laid was the framed wedding photo and a black pen that had its cap off.

Satoru smiled, staring at his shoes as he came to realize that he still had his feet on your desk. Quickly, he kicked them off and then looked back at the wedding photo that was on your desk.

“My feet are off your desk now, honey,” Satoru kept a smile on his lips.

He knew you hated it when he kept his feet on your desk.

#shrimp os #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x you

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otomegema · 3 years

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Title: Convergence Theory, ch. 3 summary: Transitional chapter GET. Aka, the one where reader meets Gojo's students a little more and I show off some of her powers and set up some future uh-- issues. That might effect the would-be couple. I'm just rolling with it. pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader rating: mature Ao3 Link (We are uh-- up to ch. 11 on Ao3 just fyi)

Weird did not even begin to describe the feeling that went through your chest and flipped in your stomach as you closed the door on your hotel room, bags in hand, and went downstairs to meet your new roommate in the lobby.

No.

New fiancé.

A fact Gojo was delighting in explaining to the hotel staff, animatedly conjuring from the depths of his mind some new bullshit on how you met. How he proposed. Some of the girls at the station were near puddles of envy. Others, happily told you how “lucky” you were as you handed off your keycard and checked out.

You had managed not to scowl the entire time, but just barely.

“You’re gonna have to send me a spreadsheet of all these lies just so I can keep up.” You muttered, swinging your bag into the open trunk of the car that had arrived to pick you both up. Oddly, the driver was not the same as the one from the other night. The man in question looked nervously in his rear view mirror, but also with an intense amount of curiosity.

“I already forgot um. Besides, not like we need one for the Gojo clan. They already know how we met.”

Gojo didn’t bother to get the door for you this time, sliding into the back seat without waiting for you to finish loading the car. You took your own spot, mirroring him in taking out your phone to check your latest messages. The driver would occasionally exchange looks with you in the mirror. You gave him a polite smile.

“Principal will wanna meet with you,” Gojo said abruptly, “I had my guys put in your rec already. Just let him know you want me as your mentor and when he brings me the request I’ll sign off.” Gojo didn’t even look up from his phone, “Old man will probably faint. I haven’t agreed to babysit anyone in—“

He paused, but only for a second.

“—Awhile!”

“Too busy?” You asked.

“Too much of a pain in the ass. And after, you can unpack your stuff at my place. I have a room on campus too, probably will spend the majority of my time there when I’m not on mission.”

“When we are not on mission.” You added with a smirk. Gojo sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. You enjoy this while it lasts, I’m already planning our next ‘date’ and you can bet before I’m done with planning the third one the family will demand a visit.” Gojo grinned, “When was the last time you’ve been?”

You groaned, the sound drawing a chuckle from Gojo. He knew damn well when the last time you were invited was.

“Do I get to plan any dates?”

He scoffed, “Why would you wanna?”

It was a fair point. You shrugged and turned to look out the window, admiring the view of trees and the greenery that surrounded Jujutsu Tech. Your days as a student were long over, but there was still so much protocol, so many hoops and tests and missions to jump through. If they had warned you being a sorcerer was like being a forever-student… maybe some of the others had it right. Ditching the school and the rules and wandering as independents. There was an allure to just throwing in the towel— but how would anything ever change if you just left?

You wondered if Gojo felt the same way, his personality not exactly meshing with the idea of a dutiful and obedient Jujutsu sorcerer. He was smiling lazily to himself as he typed on his phone and you found yourself content to just enjoy the silence.

The campus was not foreign to you and so you rebuffed Gojo’s offer to walk you in. Besides, if they came in together it might be too much of a tip off. There was no rule about the relation between a potential first-grade and their mentor, but given his tendency to rub the higher ups the wrong way, you didn’t want to risk any bumps. It was bad enough whoever that driver was had clearly heard you both talking. He seemed to be a staff member.

Passing through the halls though, you had the distinct feeling you were being watched— and definitely not by Gojo. If he was keeping tabs on you, you’d never know.

The cursed energy signatures were familiar, young and new, yet strong. You slid around a corner, barely flexing your Limitless to teleport around behind your spies, hiding out of sight.

“Wha— did we lose her?” The young boy with the pink hair gaped, rushing around the corner and then back, “I don’t see her!”

“Dummy, she probably heard you mouth breathing a mile away.” The girl muttered, slapping her fist into her hand with a disappointed grunt.

The other tall young man said nothing, his eyes drawn down into almost apathetic sleepiness.

“Why were we following her anyway?”

“Didnt you hear, Megumi? She is Gojo-sensei’s wife!”

“Fiancé, Yuji. Not wife.” The girl corrected.

“Fiancé, wife, girlfriend— whatever! Point is, how did we not know about her?! Who marries a guy like that anyway, she has to be crazy strong!!”

“She didn’t do so well on that last mission.” Megumi added, his voice flat. You winced slightly at his assessment. That was your cue. Shifting your energy, you appeared behind Megumi, forcing a tense, but still sufficiently bright smile unto your lips.

“That’s because my rat future-husband was busy showing off for his students!”

Megumi, to his credit, only stiffened. The other two openly shrieked at your arrival, the boy Yuji swiftly switching to an expression of awe.

“She moves like Gojo-sensei! I didn’t know she could do that!”

“Lots of people can do this… can’t believe he gets away with acting all high and mighty…” you grumbled.

You swore you heard a muffled sneeze from somewhere behind you, but your attention was suddenly wholly on Gojo’s two more animated students as they crowded into your space. Nobara Kugisaki— that was the girls name. And Itadori Yuji. The other boy you knew even before the mission was Megumi Fushiguro. Gojo’s longest running student and “ward” of a sort. Plus, he had affiliation with the Zenin. The Gojo clan liked to pretend it was as important, but even with the Six Eyes, there was no contest over which clan held the most power.

“Aren’t you a Gojo too? You have the Limitless right?” Yuji continued, smiling. This was Sukuna’s vessel? He seemed far too simple and far too sweet.

“Distantly. And yes.”

“That is so cool. You must be super strong.”

“I’m— I do okay.” You said, finding the praise a bit hard to accept. Sure in comparison to other third, fourth and even some of your fellow second-grade sorcerers you were notably talented— but how could anyone even judge such a thing when your true comparison was Gojo Satoru?

“When that curse hit ya? I thought— yikes. She is done for. But you barely had a mark on you!”

“Yeah, how did you dodge it? Oh! Can you do the thing?!” Nobara extended her hand, pressing her palm outward in what took you a minute to understand was a mimic of Gojo’s barrier technique.

You smiled faintly and lifted up your own hand. Nobara grinned as she tried to reach out and touch her fingertips to your own and she was stopped just short, hovering and wavering slightly in infinitely slowed movement.

“Neat.”

“I wanna try!” Yuji exclaimed and you happily demonstrated for the young man as well. Shockingly, you had to increase your output a little to repel him.

“I can’t have it up all the time, but it does help in a pinch.” You said and were surprised when Megumi finally spoke up.

“You make it sound like that somehow makes it less powerful.”

Had you? Your tone when talking about your abilities was always reserved. Cautious. You had no reason to gloat— no right to it. You masked your inner reflection behind a terse smile and offered your hand to Megumi.

“You wanna turn?”

The boy flushed.

“I’m… I’m good.”

“Are you going to be around campus today? Are you coming to our lesson?” Yuji asked, Nobara perking at the idea too.

“Maybe. I have to meet with the principal, but I’m sure I’ll see you all later.”

Satisfied with that, they wished you luck and departed, Nobara and Yuji falling again into animated conversation as Megumi steadily followed behind. It would be nice maybe to take part in a lesson or two… you hadn’t given the idea of teaching much thought, but just working with Gojo’s students you were starting to think you were getting the appeal of it.

Especially if you were one who loved to be adored, you thought with a scoff, wondering where Gojo had run off to if his students had been following you.

Dealing with principal Masamichi was a short affair. You accepted the recommendation news with humble gratitude and made your intention of being mentored by Gojo known. You were prepared to ignore the tension that seemed to permeate the atmosphere the moment you did so.

Masamichi simply stated he would let Yoshinobu know of the transfer. There would be no objections from Tokyo.

You could only imagine that your former principal would have something to say about all this— but he and the higher ups had done little to assist you in achieving first-grade status. Perhaps now they would realize they did not hold the keys to every door forward in their world.

Feeling strangely smug and self-satisfied, you left the office and set out to find the three students. It wasn’t difficult. Barely expanding your awareness of energy brought the familiar bright ray of Gojo into your mind. He was easy enough for you to find, you’d been doing it unwillingly all your life.

Near the outskirts of the woods that surrounded Jujutsu Tech you found Gojo shockingly studentless, sitting on the ground and playing what you could only imagine was an extremely high level of Candy Crush.

“Aren’t you suppose to be teaching?”

“I am! Kids are chasing a couple of third grade curses around the woods!”

“… and what are they learning?”

“Optimistically? How to dodge. Those things shoot out some kind of energy thing that definitely looks like it would sting.”

Gojo rapidly tapped across the screen, ending the level in record time before stashing his phone and leaning back on his palms. He tilted his head back at you with his usual smirk.

“You get your semi-grade one status?”

You nodded.

“Perfect!” He stood, brushing off his pants, “Now we can start your lesson! But first, I wanna see your baseline.”

He cracked his knuckles and then lazily stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Hit me with your strongest technique.”

“…what, like right now? Now, now?” You shouldn’t have been surprised honestly, Gojo was a loose cannon in every sense of the word.

“Now, now, babe.”

You scowled, the furrowing of your brow only seeming to make him smile brighter.

“C’mon. You won’t get me and you know it. Just hit me with your best Limitless technique.”

“My best Limitless technique is non-combative.” You said wryly, wishing you had chosen to wear slacks that day instead of a skirt. Your own uniform was a modified version of the Jujutsu Tech one from your time spent as a sort of “adjunct” instructor. This was definitely not your practice outfit.

“Is it?” Gojo asked, humming thoughtfully. Was he being purposefully obtuse? Most likely, yes.

“Show me your best combative technique.”

You knew what he was getting at. Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue. It was, without utilizing reversals, the strongest technique a Limitless user could achieve— or at least Gojo had made it so. You could do it, sure, but you were not sure on how long you’d be standing upright after you did. All your previous attempts to master the technique usually ended in you taking a sudden and unplanned nap. At best, the output was a little weaker, but sometimes you could hold unto consciousness and only be tapped for the rest of the day.

“I’ll faint.” You said quietly and Gojo lifted his hand to cup his ear, grinning.

“What was that?”

You huffed, “I’ll faint.”

“I don’t think you will.”

“I’m sorry, is this your technique or mine?”

Gojo gave a small shrug, “Obviously mine. You're just a knock-off.”

“Ya know, I activated my Limitless abilities before you.”

“I mighta heard something like that once— Now hit me.” Gojo took a few steps back, crooking his finger at you, “Come on, come one. Don’t be so boring. I have to know what your capable of it you are going to come on missions with me.”

“This is a terrible idea.” You grumbled, but swung out your shoulders, breathing out slowly to mentally prepare yourself if anything.

“Maybe! But like I said, I gotta know just how weak you are.” Gojo said, mirth in his voice— and mocking.

“I’m not weak.” You snapped out before you could real in your tongue, feeling your neck flush.

“You just said you can’t even do the base technique of our ability without fainting.” Gojo gestured his hand out as he gave another little shrug, “Kinda seems super weak to me.”

“I’m not you.”

“Not with that attitude you aren’t."

Okay. Fine. He wanted you to hit him? You’d hit him. Your cursed energy had already flared up, irritation giving way to anger as you opened that channel within your memory and your emotions— focusing it until all that bitterness, all that rage was nothing more than a battery for you to use to fuel your own jujutsu.

You knew Gojo would be fine, but for a moment, you nearly faltered. Having someone ask you to basically collapse them apart with the cursed equivalent of a black hole? Not exactly a normal every day occurrence.

“C’mon! Stop thinking about hitting me and hit me! Unless you wanna renegotiate our deal… hell, maybe it would be easier for both of us if I just paid your rent instead. I don’t know how I’m gonna manage to get someone so pathetic to first-grade.”

You were going to kill him.

You were going to rip the eyes from his skull and spit them out at the dinner table of the main family, teeth and gums bloody.

“Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.”

The cursed energy ripped not out from your body, but in. Focusing around Gojo as it manipulated space, dividing it down to the negative and seeking out to rend him apart. The area of effect was like a circle, but you pinpointed at his eyes regardless. Targeting what excess energy was left to his face.

The blast of blue sent clouds of dirt and grass into the air— or what was once dirt and grass. Having been nearly crushed into nothing, the debris shot around in fine powdered ash. When the air cleared, Gojo was standing where he had been before, entirely untouched.

Except for his blindfold.

One end had twisted, the fabric swirling up so tightly it was risen up against his forehead and revealing one bright, blue eye. It had gotten caught in part in the curling shrinking energy of the technique, but not enough to destroy it.

You let out a breath, stunned to find you were still standing.

“See?” Gojo said cheerfully, “Just a little motivation and you—“

The last thing you saw before everything went black was the ground suddenly rushing up to your face.

The low painful rumble of your stomach woke you, awareness of your body coming back in small waves. There was something soft tucked under your head… and your legs were elevated, knees curled around something.

You opened your eyes to the bright, unforgiving sky above and groaned loudly.

“Rise and shine, honeybun.”

His very voice made you wanna faint again just to get away from him.

“Really. Honey bun. Here, eat.”

A packaged sweet was tossed unto your stomach and you sat up enough to recognize the thing your legs were swung over was Gojo’s own lap. His phone was in one hand, the familiar blips and tones of a game audible. His other was rested on your knee, pressing down to help support your efforts to sit up.

He had taken off his jacket and put it behind your head, the white sleeves of his shirt beneath rolled up around his elbows. Judging by the absence of his blindfold and the return of his sunglasses, he hadn’t been able to save the item from your rending.

You flushed, attempting to pull your legs away and recognizing with a sharp sound that he could easily have seen up your skirt at that angle. Gojo’s hand tightened on your knee, keeping you in place.

“You should let your blood settle back before you try squirmin’ so much.”

If he had looked he did not make mention of it, focus fully on his game. Your stomach grumbled again and you tore open the honey bun packet and into the soft, sweet bread in short time.

“You really did faint.” Gojo said lowly, “Not the greatest. We’ll need to start with getting your cursed energy output higher. You can call on it in a pinch, sure, but it’d be better to have an ongoing source rather than relying on me teasing you into snapping off something halfway decent.”

“Ya know, anyone else and that move would have turned them into soup.” You said, not in the habit of defending yourself, but something about Gojo making the assessment set off your nerves. Why would he compare you to a level only he could achieve? It wasn’t fair.

“I know! I mean— it was good! Don’t get me wrong. Just not good. Blowing shit up is great and all but not if it blows you up with it. Leaves you vulnerable to reprisal if the curse isn’t alone.”

You shrugged, “I guess I just always figure if I take something out with that, if there is anything left the other sorcerers will get it.”

“… so it’s a sacrificial play, for you?”

You nodded. Gojo switched off his phone and shoved your legs off his lap, standing up. He didn’t offer you any help as you wobbled unto your own two feet.

“You got some serious hang ups.” Gojo said and you couldn’t very well argue.

He tugged his blindfold from his pocket, holding up the tattered piece of fabric for your inspection— as evidence. Your eyes widened. You didn’t realize until now the full extent of the damage, the way the cloth was shredded in the center as if a wild animal had tried to claw his eyes out. You had been so focused, so preoccupied… no wonder the damage wasn’t fully resembling of the true Lapse: Blue technique.

“Here. A souvenir.”

“… sorry.” You mumbled, reaching out to take it. Gojo quickly moved, pulling the blindfold from your reach at the last moment with a chuckle. You rolled your eyes and went to take it again only for him to repeat the same trick, earning a wary smile from you as you snatched at his hand and he allowed you to take it the third time.

“I never—“ Gojo began and stopped, humming to himself as he seemed to reconsider his words.

“What?”

“Well, I was just thinking I picked the best possible choice for this charade!” Gojo began, “It may really take you the whole year to fall for me.”

You smacked him with the torn piece of fabric, earning a startled “ow” from him and the satisfaction you must have caught him off guard to get through his barrier. You seemed to be able to do that a lot. Showed what he knew letting his powers wane around you.

“In the meanwhile, there is no time like the present! Let’s go!” Gojo reached out, grabbing your arm by the elbow before you could recoil away.

“Go—”

The forest disappeared, the world refocusing in the middle of Tokyo. The sounds of birds and wind replaced with the sound of tire treads on wet pavement and the faint, constant roar of the city scape.

“—where?”

Ah— yes.

To an abandoned apartment building.

That radiated cursed energy.

Of course.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujustu kaisen fanfiction #fic; convergence theory

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brynne-lagaao · 7 years

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(Fanfic) Set in Stone - Chapter Eight

Title: Set in Stone

Pairing: Sarumi

Chapter: 8/18

Rating: M

Mirrors: AO3 | Website

Summary: Yata wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he performed a summon on his own in a fit of drunken loneliness. It definitely wasn’t some asshole demon with a bad attitude, even if that demon happened to be frustratingly hot. But breaking their contract was going to mean working together, and he wasn’t sure how much of that he could take before he snapped… one way or another.

Note: Thank you to @dropletons for being my beta and to @chromekins for helping with the magic aspect. This fic is not entirely accurate in terms of modern magic and the demon lore was basically made up to suit the story, but I tried to keep somewhat of an authentic feel, so hopefully that succeeded.

He ended up saving the retrieval for last – not only because it was the worst job, but because he didn’t wanna go in with anything of value on him that he’d end up having to replace or pay for. Usually if some punk stole his shit, he could get it back easy enough, but he’d spent enough time around Jungle to know not to underestimate them.

Fucking Jungle. Fucking Hisui Nagare. Fucking… Munakata. That bastard.

The rain had petered off into a little drizzle by the time they walked out of the train station and onto the street that would lead them through the residential area. The sidewalk was narrow in that part of the city, the houses thin and squished in together like they were huddling for warmth. Foot traffic was sparse at that time of day, and the roads were quiet but for a few cars here and there – most of them zipping by above the speed limit. As they turned to head down a different block, there was an impressive piece of graffiti art splayed across the wall that lined a nearby schoolyard – a snake biting a lion’s tail, and ‘bite back’ in large bold spray-painted letters above it. Inside the schoolyard, a group of kids were playing, and the sound of laughter and shouting made for lively background noise.

It was a familiar sort of place – not exactly the neighborhood he’d grown up in, but close. Would’ve been comfortable if not for… those guys.

“There’s a coven headquarters in a place like this?” Fushimi commented blandly.

Yata shot him a narrow look. “What’s weird about that?”

Fushimi shrugged. He seemed to be sizing up the area, in a lazy sort of way. “There’s not a lot of space.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” He was getting defensive, even though Fushimi hadn’t exactly said anything derisive. Yata reached up to rub at the back of his neck, expelling a sharp sigh. “Doesn’t take a lot of space for rituals – you saw my apartment, right?”

“Mm.” Fushimi’s tone was thoughtful. “True.”

It didn’t seem like he was gonna say more, but something small and restless stirred in Yata’s belly. He couldn’t resist the urge to add, “Y’know, I grew up in a place like this.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected in response, but Fushimi turned to regard him with something almost like interest. “Nearby?”

“Huh?” Yata blinked at him, caught off guard. “Uh… no.” He recovered his equilibrium quickly, offering a small awkward shrug in response. “Other side of the city.” Not wanting to leave it hanging like that, he added, “This place just kinda gives off a familiar vibe, y’know? Guess it’s normal, though – I mean, it’s like my home when I was little, so yeah. It’s nice.”

“Is that right?” There was something inscrutable in Fushimi’s expression. He turned his head to regard his surroundings again; when he spoke, it was almost like he was mumbling to himself. “I guess most people would feel that way, huh?”

Something about the way he said it felt off, but Yata shrugged that aside. “Right!”

They had to walk two more blocks and then down another street before reaching the intersection that was sort of a crossroads between the residential area and the more industrial area. There was a construction zone that made the distinction that much more stark – large wooden structures and protective plastic lined the solid brick buildings that dwarfed the houses opposite them. It had been like that for as long as Yata had been coming here, as if the work was in constant limbo. He’d never seen any actual construction workers, either.

Sometimes he wondered if it was just a glamor spell of some sort, but it had never given off any ‘fake’ vibe, and he was usually pretty good about picking that shit out.

Whatever. Not like it mattered.

“I feel like I should’ve waited with my question from before,” Fushimi drawled, dispelling his umbrella illusion as he followed Yata through the opening in the plastic to the cramped temporary walkway. “It’s really hard to imagine a coven operating in a place like this. Is it even safe?”

Yata snorted in response, pulling around the rucksack to stow his own wet umbrella. “Probably not. These guys like it that way, I think.”

The sharp sound of Fushimi’s tongue clicking met his ears in response. “I haven’t even met them and already they seem annoying.”

“Yeah,” Yata offered another huff of agreement, “just wait.”

About halfway down the construction walkway, there was another opening in the plastic that lined the wooden path. It wasn’t too conspicuous, but behind it there was a boarded-up door. Yata reached through the plastic and rapped his knuckles against the wood. “Yatagarasu,” he identified himself, raising his voice to be sure it went through clearly.

There was a long moment of silence, and then loud, rapid footsteps approached from the other side.

The door, which looked like it should’ve opened outward, slid to the side instead. A platinum-haired teenager glowered out from between the boards. “What are you doing here?”

It fucking would be him. Yata resisted the urge to swear, frowning back. At least if it had been Yukari, all they’d get were some vague suggestions and a smug smirk. “Picking up for Munakata.”

“Nagare never said there was a pickup.” The kid sneered back at him. Gojo Sukuna had the biggest attitude problem Yata had ever had the displeasure of coming across. And, unfortunately, a hell of a lot of power to back it up. But right now he looked like the bratty teen he was, ripped jeans and ill-fitting T-shirt completing the picture. “And who’s that guy? Some new shitty member in your shitty coven?”

Yata bit back the immediate, angry response. Not fucking worth it. “Yeah, I’ll tell Anna you said so,” he gritted out, and had the satisfaction of watching Gojo’s face stiffen and grow red. Somehow or another, those two were classmates – and she was the only member of Homra he didn’t bad-mouth. “He’s not a member, just a…” The word ‘friend’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he managed to chew it back in time. “He’s with me.”

“Duh.” Gojo rolled his eyes, fixing Fushimi with a belligerent look. “You – what’s your name?”

Fushimi looked down his nose at Gojo as if studying an insect, then shifted his gaze to Yata slowly. “Do I have to answer this brat?”

When it wasn’t directed at him, somehow that attitude was awesome. Yata couldn’t help his answering grin. “Nah.” He turned back to Gojo, who looked about ready to commit murder. “Hisui’s gotta be waiting for us – sure you wanna leave him hanging?”

Gojo glowered at them, shifting from one to the other for a second or two, and then snapped, “Stay there!” and slid the door shut so fast it banged against the handle.

Yata heaved a sigh, reaching back to ease the tension at the back of his neck. “Pain in the ass,” he muttered.

Fushimi clicked his tongue. “I’d happily strangle this stupid brat.”

That at least got a huff of laughter from Yata. “Least you gave ’im hell – that was pretty cool, by the way.” He tipped his head a bit, feeling hesitant for no real reason as he offered up a genuine smile.

Fushimi blinked at him, raising a hand to adjust his glasses as if to mask his reaction. “You’re easily impressed,” he muttered back, gaze flickering away from Yata as his eyelashes lowered.

It was an oddly endearing reaction. Yata wasn’t sure why but his cheeks warmed all the same. “Yeah, well… ‘enemy of my enemy’, right?” He shrugged and let it drop there, feeling weirdly awkward. “If we’re lucky, Hisui’ll just give him the quartz to pass on to us and we can get the hell outta here without going in.” It wasn’t likely, but still possible if Hisui was busy with something.

“Mm,” Fushimi agreed, and clicked his tongue again. “Are the rest of them as bad as this?”

Yata didn’t even hesitate. “Yup.”

Fushimi’s frown deepened. “Great.”

There was no chance to respond to that, because the same loud footsteps from before approached and the door was flung open once again. Gojo glared at them both, reaching out to rap his knuckles against the wooden planks barring the entrance. They swung open as if they were all attached to a solid door. “Nagare said come in,” he grumbled, stepping back to give them space, “so hurry it up.”

Of course things couldn’t be that easy. Yata let out a soft ‘ch’ under his breath, moving to step forward.

“Is there a protection ward on this place?” Fushimi asked abruptly, halting him in his tracks.

Oh yeah… right.

“’Course there is,” Gojo answered impatiently, shifting irritably from foot to foot as he waited. His gaze narrowed. “Why, you got something to hide?”

Fushimi ignored him, gaze fixed on Yata instead. “Did you want to tell him first, or should I be a surprise?”

The prospect was too good to pass up. Yata grinned back, showing teeth. “Hey, everyone loves surprises, right? Let’s go.”

The corners of Fushimi’s mouth turned up; he let out an amused huff, shutting his eyes briefly. “Just remember this was your idea,” he murmured.

“What are you two blabbing about?” Gojo demanded suspiciously, as Yata moved through the doorway into the dark, empty room beyond. He took a few extra steps to leave space and turned just in time to catch Gojo’s jaw drop as Fushimi followed him, wings flaring out and horns sprouting from his head. “Wha… what… the hell?”

“That’s a good way to put it,” Fushimi drawled. His illusionary clothing shifted back into place, covering the expanse of pale-skinned chest that had automatically revealed itself when he’d stepped in.

A tiny thread of disappointment wormed its way into his thoughts; Yata shelved it firmly. Not now.

Gojo rounded on him, eyes blazing. “You brought a demon here? Are you crazy? Wanna start a war or something?”

Yata shrugged. “Hey, Munakata probably said something to your leader before we got here.” He spread his hands, widening his smirk. “Not my fault Hisui doesn’t pass that shit on to his doorman.”

Another furious flush crept onto Gojo’s cheeks. “Nagare’s gonna kill you,” he growled, and then managed a smirk, eyebrows lowered almost dangerously. “I hope he lets me do it.” Turning sharply, he headed for the back of the room. “C’mon!”

Yata waited while he opened up the trap door in the back corner, dim light from the opening glowing through. “Little shithead,” he muttered under his breath as Gojo climbed down the ladder and out of sight.

“That’s an understatement,” Fushimi murmured in response, and clicked his tongue. “After you, I guess.”

“Yeah, sure.” Might as well get this over with.

The ladder didn’t go down all that far. At the bottom was a short, narrow hallway leading to the main room in this dank, poorly lit basement. It had been designed – for some dumb reason – to look like someone’s bachelor pad. The tiled walls had a greenish tint, the carpet under the sofa and TV was threadbare, and there were boxes piled atop the cabinets and fridge. Gojo was lurking near the back, slouched against a wall near where a tall man in a priest’s robe was diligently hanging laundry from a wire. He paused every so often to lift a can from the counter behind him and take a long swig.

How’d you expect clothes to dry with no airflow in here, huh? It had to be some kinda spell they used, but the point of it wasn’t clear at all. Yata really didn’t get these guys.

Hisui Nagare himself sat on the couch, a tablet in his hands. He was dressed in an oddly formal way, black pants and suit jacket over a white shirt, but his hair was unkempt. When Yata stepped forward through the open door, he looked up from his work with a smile. “Ah,” he said, “Yatagarasu. Good of you to come.”

Yata clenched his teeth, but didn’t bother reminding him not to use the nickname. It wouldn’t make a difference. This guy could be frustratingly oblivious of other people’s preferences and feelings. “Can we just make this quick?”

“Of course. Iwa-san,” Hisui addressed the tall man, “would you be able to find the quartz that Munakata requested?”

“Sure thing.” Giving the shirt he’d hung one more tug, the man – Iwafune Tenkei – stepped back. He offered Yata a shrug and a smile and then turned to examine the drawers behind him. “Now where the heck did I put that…?”

Coulda got it ready when you heard I was here, assholes…

“I appreciate it,” Hisui responded smoothly, and let his gaze slide with obvious interest to where Fushimi had stepped up beside Yata. “What an extraordinary friend you’ve brought. Won’t you introduce us, Yatagarasu?”

Fushimi clicked his tongue before Yata could respond. “I’m fine with being a stranger.”

“Is that so?” Hisui blinked, tilting his head a bit as if trying to get a read on the situation. “I’m afraid I’m not quite familiar with the salient points of demon etiquette. My apologies if the request was impudent.” He set the tablet aside and leaned forward in his seat, bracing his elbows on his knees and creating a bridge with his hands, on which he rested his chin. It was an oddly hunched posture for him. “Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. I have a particular interest, you see.” He smiled again. “I’m very curious about the extent to which demonic illusion challenges reality.”

That must have been a pre-arranged signal, because faster than Yata could blink, Iwafune spun from the counter, pointed a gun at Yata’s head with uncanny accuracy and fired.

The instinctive rush of alarm and panic at being shot at struck him in the same instant that the shot itself rang out; Yata flinched back automatically…

… And barely managed to catch sight of a projectile from beside him catching the bullet mid-flight and knocking it aside.

The shock hadn’t quite faded but his body was already tensing for action; Yata whipped his head up just as Fushimi spun up two more throwing knives and slung them with practiced ferocity at Hisui, Iwafune, and Gojo, shifting as he did to place his body between Yata and them.

The reality of that deliberate movement stunned him even more than the sudden attack. Yata felt his breath catch in his throat, so sharply he nearly choked on it, and couldn’t help but stare at Fushimi’s back, tense and poised with his wings at full span. What is he…?

As expected, the knives bounced back harmlessly from their marks, falling to the floor in tandem. Hisui sat up straight in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself as he regarded Fushimi. “It seems as though your demonic rank is quite high, to create an illusion of that caliber.” His eyes gleamed with interest. “As expected of Munakata’s protégé. I’m impressed.”

The tension seemed to ease off of Fushimi all at once; he straightened, letting out a sigh. “A trick, huh?”

“Hey, asshole!” Yata shook aside his own shock, focusing on glaring at first Iwafune and then Hisui. “The hell was that about, huh? Don’t just fucking shoot at people!” He balled his hands into fists. “You wanna start a fight?”

Gojo stepped away from the wall, placing himself between them and Hisui. “Try it, Shittygarasu. I’ll take on you and your pet demon both!”

Yata balled his hands into fists. “What was that!?”

“There’s no need for that, Sukuna.” Hisui settled his hands in his lap with polite diffidence. His eyes were still on Fushimi. “I expect you’ve noticed by now, but this room is warded against physical harm to any living being within its walls. My apologies for not mentioning it. It was necessary.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue, but didn’t answer. When Yata tilted his head to catch a glimpse of his face, he noticed that those grey-blue eyes were narrowed, fixed sharply on Hisui.

What the hell? Yata turned a glare in that direction as well. “Was that s’posed to be some kinda test or what?”

Iwafune chuckled. “I guess you could call it that.” He’d stowed his gun and was reclining against the counter, beer in hand. In his free hand, he hefted the chunk of rose quartz that Munakata had requested. “You wanna hand this off to our guests, Sukuna?”

“Huh? Why should I?” Gojo shot him a petulant look. “Do it yourself!”

Iwafune sighed. “Kids today. No respect for their elders.” He pushed himself away from the counter, crossing the room and even stepping around Fushimi with an apologetic grin to hand the quartz to Yata. “Thanks for your hard work.”

“The results were most enlightening,” Hisui added, pleasantly.

Yata scowled at him and then at Iwafune’s back as he retreated across the room, before letting out an agitated huff and depositing the quartz into his empty rucksack. Finally! “Shoot at me again and I’ll fuck this place up.” With a final glare for the inhabitants of the room, he turned to leave. “C’mon, we’re going.”

“Hah! I’d like to see you try, Shittygarasu!” Gojo taunted.

“That is the lamest insult I’ve ever heard,” Fushimi muttered, just loud enough for his voice to carry as they moved through the door.

Yata snorted. “Right?” He tossed a smirk over his shoulder at Gojo, who glowered back at him. “Like a grade-schooler trying to act tough.”

“What? You got a problem?”

Fushimi clicked his tongue, pausing at the base of the ladder for Yata to go on ahead of him. “What I have is a headache. What a noisy brat.”

“You’re telling me.” Yata let out a soft ‘ch’, climbing deftly toward the opening and hoisting himself out so that Fushimi could pass. “He doesn’t get any better the longer you know him.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

Yata made a point of leaving Jungle’s front door wide open when they were through. Gojo was going to come up and close it pretty quick, but it still felt satisfying in a petty way to leave it like that. “Pain in the ass,” he muttered, pushing through the plastic of the construction zone with more force than was really necessary. He pulled his umbrella out of the rucksack, holding it ready to open when they reached the edge of the walkway.

Fushimi was right on his heels. “You weren’t kidding about that.” He clicked his tongue. “I hope you don’t go there often.”

“Not that often.” Thankfully. The interest in Hisui’s eyes kinda bugged him, though. “Hopefully he doesn’t start asking for a bunch of shit just ’cause you’re with me…”

“I doubt it.” Fushimi clicked his tongue again, lips curling. There was a frustrated edge to his voice. “He already got exactly what he wanted.”

“Huh? You mean that shit about your powers and all?” Yata frowned. “I didn’t really get what he was after. That was some kinda test, right? But why’s he so interested in you?”

“It’s not me.” Fushimi shook his head. His frown deepened. “I’m pretty sure that was aimed at the Captain. Nothing to do with me – unless…” He furrowed his brow, and then shook his head again. “No. That can’t be it.”

Yata stared at him, baffled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Obviously I don’t know the details, but it seems like the Captain has some kind of feud going on with that Hisui guy.” Fushimi shrugged. “Or maybe it’s a one-sided thing on Hisui’s part, but I doubt it. He outmaneuvered me too easily for the Captain to take him lightly.” He clicked his tongue again. “This wasn’t so much a test for me as scoping out what kind of force the Captain has behind him.”

“Seriously?” Yata blinked, surprised, and then narrowed his eyes. Kusanagi would probably wanna know if that wasn’t something he’d already picked up on. “You think he’s planning an attack?”

“Who knows,” Fushimi responded, slipping back into that drawling tone. “Could be just a battle of wits. I wouldn’t put it past the Captain.” He reached up to push his glasses higher on his nose. “Either way, it’s not like I’ll actually have anything to do with it. I can’t manifest on this plane without a contract.”

That was news to Yata. “Huh. Really?”

“Yes, really.” Fushimi’s voice was flat. “Only the elite ranks can – and there’s not all that many of them.”

“Oh.” Speaking of contracts, though… Yata shot him a sideways glance, the question he’d been holding back on asking surfacing immediately now that they were outside. “Hey… about earlier…” It felt awkward to ask, especially when Fushimi’s gaze shifted to him, but he had to know. “That bullet was coming for me, not you. Why’d you – ?”

“Of course it was,” Fushimi interrupted him, and clicked his tongue, turning to face forward again. He’d retracted his wings, tail, and horns again, and with his hunched posture and sour expression, he looked completely human. “I wouldn’t have to do anything if they’d shot at me. Guns are no use against demons.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Yata insisted, his eyes still on Fushimi’s face as he did. “Why the hell’d you save me? You didn’t know about the ward, so you thought it’d kill me, right?” He narrowed his eyes. “Wouldn’t that be good for you? No more contract.”

There was a brief second of hesitation – not much of one, but with all of his attention focused on this, Yata definitely felt it. Fushimi dipped his head forward slightly, his frown seeming to deepen again. “That was… instinct. I reacted to your emotions.”

“My emotions?” Right, he had kinda panicked there, hadn’t he? Somehow, that answer was dissatisfying, though… Yata frowned. “So because I got freaked out, you moved without thinking?”

“Something like that.” Fushimi clicked his tongue yet again, looking disgruntled. “Seriously… again…”

“Huh? ‘Again’?”

“Never mind.” Fushimi picked up his pace, materializing an umbrella as he reached the end of the walkway and pushed through the plastic. “Like I said, it was just instinct. That’s all.”

That’s all? Something was still nagging at him – some fact or memory that contradicted that last bit – but Yata couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He hurried after Fushimi, passing through the plastic and staring at his back as he brought up his own umbrella.

His back. Right – that was it. The image of Fushimi’s tense back as he placed himself in front of Yata. Even just thinking about it sent chills through him – a kind of gratifying rush that he couldn’t explain. He hadn’t really needed it, but… He protected me. Even after knocking that bullet aside.

Somehow, that thought… gave him kind of a nice feeling.

Fushimi was a few paces ahead of him; Yata jogged to catch up. “Liar,” he said confidently, leaning forward to peer at Fushimi’s face again. “You moved in front of me before throwing knives at those guys – which was awesome, by the way! You’re pretty good!” He smirked when the compliment earned him a glance. “But seriously, you’re gonna call that instinct?”

The expression on Fushimi’s face was nonplussed; this time the hesitation was much more noticeable. He clicked his tongue, turning away again. “I told you, I wasn’t thinking,” he muttered, almost resentfully. “You’re reading too much into this.”

“Heh!” That reluctant attitude felt like a confirmation somehow. He’s not as uncaring as he acts, huh? The thought made him feel like a little of the distance between them had been crossed; Fushimi had saved him, even if it wasn’t really necessary, and Yata couldn’t help but warm up to him a bit. “You should be more honest, y’know. Trust me a little. S’not like I bite or anything.”

“You should learn – maybe then you’ll be quiet.” It seemed to occur to Fushimi what he’d just said, and some of the irritation faded from his expression. He let his eyes grow lidded, offering a twin to Yata’s smirk. “Actually, I could teach you.” When he spoke again, his voice was pitched lower and he drew his words out deliberately. “Unlike you, I do bite.”

The unexpected innuendo brought warmth rushing to Yata’s face; he sputtered for a moment, thrown off track. That’s kinda hot, his traitorous brain supplied – a thought he clamped down on immediately, pushing it to the far back of his mind. “Wait – that’s not what I – ”

“Hm?” Fushimi drew the hum out mockingly. “What did you mean, Misaki?”

“I – wait, hold up a second!” Yata scowled, glaring through the flush he could still feel on his face. “I never said you could call me by my first name!”

“Can’t I?” Fushimi’s gaze was smug. “I thought you said I saved you. Doesn’t that put us on a first-name basis?” Drawing each syllable out with relish, he added, “Misaki.”

“Ugh.” Yata glared at him, thoroughly disgruntled. “I take it back. Nothing about you is awesome.”

“Weren’t you the one talking about honesty just now? Hm, Misaki?”

“That’s totally different! Anyway, stop calling me that! We’re not that close, asshole!”

“Really? Is that the kind of gratitude you show to your savior?”

“Seriously, shut up!”

Even as they bickered on the way back to the train station, Yata still couldn’t shake the memory of Fushimi’s body deliberately moving between him and the perceived danger – or the shiver it sent through his own when he considered what it meant. Something had changed between them for sure this time, although he didn’t really know how much difference it’d make. He couldn’t tell where it would lead in the end either, but…

As surprising as it was, it turned out Fushimi Saruhiko was a guy he could trust with his life.

#k #sarumi #yata misaki #fushimi saruhiko #fanfic #fanfic:mine

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