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ashsd3ad · 1 year ago

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# being gojo satoru’s therapist.

word count: 2.5k-ish

some angst (suicide is mentioned very briefly), no use of y/n, cursing, female!reader, idiots unknowingly pining for each other, emotionally constipated gojo

it was so fucking stupid, he didn’t need any of this. he’s the strongest sorcerer of the modern era for god’s sake.

why on earth was he being forced to see a goddamn therapist?

upon yaga’s request- well, demand actually, he was required to see a shrink because, as the principal worded it, he needed ‘a lot of fucking help’.

of course, he refused at first.

thee satoru gojo in a shrink’s office? what was that, some twisted fucking joke?

sadly for him though, yaga decided to put his foot down and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. he threatened the snowy haired man to take away his teaching job if he didn’t get the help he apparently desperately needed.

so it began, satoru gojo’s journey with his therapist.

over the course of a couple of months, satoru had grown accustomed to his routine with his therapist.

he met up with her in her cozy little office, she tried to make the conversation about his feelings and he’d redirect it to something else entirely, mainly complaining about higher ups in his field.

that always earned him a look, but she never forced him to share his inner monologues with her.

she couldn’t do that even if she wanted to anyways, he wouldn’t let her.

all of this led to an unlikely.. friendship?

well, satoru wouldn’t exactly call it a friendship, but it was.. something.

that day, was no different than their usual meetings.

a tall and lean figure made its way into her office and sat on the comfortable armchair in front of her about 30 minutes prior, but all she got from him up until that point were silences and changes of subject.

“and how did that make you feel?” god here she went again with that stupid fucking question.

satoru sighed, stretching his legs and arms a little.

sometimes she forgot how massive he actually was.

the woman briefly averted her eyes, looking everywhere but at his stupidly stunning figure, afraid yet another crack would appear in her professional persona.

she’d tell herself it wasn’t her fault, it was only natural after all! he was just very nice to look at.

she could be pretty dense, for a therapist.

“you worry too much,” he said casually, albeit a little irritated, after some back and forth. for some reason he couldn’t quite understand, his mood wasn’t the best that day, but he still tried to keep his usual laid back attitude, hiding the annoyance behind a pout. for her sake.

“i’ve told you countless times, i’m here just because i was basically forced, nothing is actually wrong with me.. if yaga didn’t constantly check in with you, i wouldn’t even attend our ‘sessions’ in the first place”.

well.. if he had to be completely honest, satoru had told only half the truth.

he attended their meetings also because his therapist was a very pretty sight to look at, and surprisingly interesting to talk to (when she wasn’t trying to pry into his feelings, that is.)

satoru was more than aware she was only trying to do her job, he really was. he just.. didn’t care, so he decided he was going to make it her problem. maybe he’d manage to get her to her wits end and she’d finally give up on him.

‘please don’t give up on me’

gojo leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees. a playful smile took over his previously pouty lips as he said something along the lines of ‘why don’t we talk about YOUR feelings instead?’.

maybe he could joke his way out of this? he hoped he could.

his therapist sighs, scrunching her nose and pinching the bridge of it slightly. cute.

“we don’t talk about my feelings because i am your therapist, not the other way around, gojo” she countered, trying to keep the conversation as workplace appropriate as possible, suppressing the urge to headbutt the stubbron (and gorgeous) man in front of her.

the woman was very proud of her skills as a therapist, so much so that the lack of progress with this peculiar snowy haired man left her particularly dissatisfied, so she started putting slightly more effort than usual in trying to crack his façade, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“and, for your information, i do worry about you for a reason” she continued, voice firm, stern even.

‘she really worries about me?’

“judging by the very limited amount of insight on yourself you’ve provided me, you really do need someone to talk to about your feelings” his pretty therapist added, looking at him straight in the eyes.

she looked like she wanted to obliterate his sunglasses with her mind.

‘don’t look at me like that’

feelings feelings feelings, he was so tired of hearing her going on about them.

after that statement his mood quickly worsened even more, his face fading in a cold, borderline cynical, front.

‘well, thats a first’ she thought to herself, a little taken aback.

satoru had been curious about what exactly she saw in him from day one. was it concern? pity?

‘i don’t want her pity’

whatever it was, it was a waste of time on both ends.

"i see" he hummed thoughtfully as he tapped his fingers against his knee, pondering on his next words. "can I ask you something?"

“sure, go ahead” she answered calmly, a bit of unsureness and skepticism detectable in her voice given the sudden shift in his character.

satoru seemed to stare right through her for a few moments. his gaze was cold and unmoving, his eyes felt like they were piercing hers in a way that no other client's ever has.

“have you ever considered…” he begins slowly, voice low “that you might not be as good at this job as you think you are?”

his words were sharp, each one chosen with great intent. there was something behind his eyes that both fascinated and terrified her.

‘im sorry’

her eyes widened momentarily at his question.

a flash of annoyance, maybe even anger, thundering in them as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips parting to throw an equally biting remark back at him.

be professional.

she took a deep breath and crossed one leg over the other, speaking calmly once again.

“if you want to criticise my skills you’re free to do so, even though you’re not qualified to do so” the woman retorted.

“and if you want a different therapist you’re more than free to ask mr. yaga” her words did have a little edge to them, but she still managed to keep most of her composure.

before the man in front of her could get a word in, she added one more thing.

“but from my perspective, a therapist’s perspective, you do need one” she said as she tapped her heeled foot on the ground.

‘i know i need help’

‘help me please’

satoru pondered for a couple of seconds, then he chuckled humourlessly as he leaned back in his chair.

his face was stoic, similar to a statue, and his eyes lacked their usual shininess, almost looking muddy.

not that she’d noticed anyways, considering they were hidden behind his glasses.

there was an intensity to his gaze though, one that made even just looking at him feel as if she was under a microscope.

"I think you're taking this too personally." he hums, mocking her ever so slightly.

"i’m not criticising your skills per se, all I'm saying is..." he pauses for a moment, considering how best to say it. "even a blind man could see your ‘concern’ for me runs deeper than the usual pity you feel for all your patients”

“you must think i’m really fucking pathetic, huh?”

what the fuck was he going on about?

“my concern for you, or any other patient for the matter, is not based on pity in the first place, gojo” she looked at him, her face bewildered.

“you think i pity you?” she raised both her eyebrows in question, the incredulous expression still on her face.

satoru chuckles. though the sound is soft and quiet, delightful to hear, something about its sweetness makes it bone chilling.

nonetheless, this made her excited.

it was the widest range of emotions he’d ever shown her.

‘im breaking through!’

“do you not?” he asks, shifting in his chair, and leaning back in it once again, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“why else would you be trying as hard as you are to ‘fix’ me?” he asks, a frown stretched across his gorgeous face.

“i’m just a client like any other, but yet here you are! trying your damn hardest to change me.”

ah, so he did noticed her extra effort huh. fuck.

still, who the hell put the idea she pitied him into his stupid head?

“i do not pity you, gojo. i’ve seen patients far worse than you are” she said, almost sounding a little defensive.

“and i’m not trying to ‘fix you’, or change you for that matter! that is not my job!” she exclaimed, a smidge too loud, massaging her temple with one of her hands immediately after. probably to chase away the growing headache he’d given her.

‘i managed to piss off my own therapist what the fuck is wrong with me and why do i even care?’

before he was completely swallowed by his self deprecating thoughts, her voice brought him back once again, like a saving grace.

“my job is helping patients navigate through their emotions, using methods that are tailored perfectly for them” she explained.

“i communicate with my patients to help them find a way to process their feelings that works for them. i do not pity them, i just help them” she paused “..or, well, try to. if they let me” the woman concluded, face serious.

his face twists in distaste as he listened to her speak. bullshit.

“that’s the thing though,” he responds slowly “i don’t need help with that”

the man pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, finally meeting her eyes properly.

‘he’s so pretty’

“you think I need your little ‘tools’? or to talk about my feelings??” he said, annoyance lacing his voice.

“i have always known how to process my emotions. I don’t need you to teach me how. i’m. fine.”

she barely held back the urge to scoff.

gojo had never realised how bad his coping mechanism were, and she was just trying to get him to develop healthier ones, bit by bit.

‘communicating would be a great fucking start’

evidently though, it wasn’t working, so she decided it was time to switch up her approach and be a little brazen, maybe that would work.

“you? processing emotions? that’s a good one.” she snickered

he scrunched his nose up, questioningly “and what could you possibly mean by that, huh?” he felt himself get more and more agitated as the seconds ticked by.

he felt like he was being stripped naked, exposed, against his will. all the things he’d worked so hard to bury, the careless persona he’d built..

‘stop looking at me, stop finding out things about me i don’t want you to know.’

“you bottle everything up, pretend it’s fine and let it eat at you from the inside, little by little” she looked at him menacingly, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“that big goofy grin, or the confident smirk you put on, doesn’t work in here, gojo”

she clicked her tongue in disapproval. “in this office, i’m reading you, not the other way around” she continued ad she pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“i know you’re used to getting you way, because you’re smart, even though it doesn’t look like it, but as long as your ass is sat in that chair, you won’t find a way to give me answers you think will please me”

“if your goal is to get me to tell yaga to get off your back, then we’re going to be here for loooong. i’m striving for the truth and i’m going to get it”

to hell with being professional.

the man remained silent for a few moments, his expression almost..hurt? “…I think I hate you.”

he smiled in defeat, leaning forward once again, and though his voice was even and calm, it came out a bit strained.

“no, I know I do.” he didn’t though, and that confused him to no end.

the woman gently laid her hands in her lap, trying to ignore the sting his words left in her chest as her voice went back to its usually stoic connotation, completely discarding the venom it previously dripped in.

“i get that a lot from patients like yourself” she started, calmly.

“usually, they drop therapy after a few session because they can’t handle the truth being thrown in their face and then, after a while..”

a pause, like she was choosing her next words carefully “they end up dropping dead on the floor when the fire crew cuts the rope they hung themselves from” she finished, her expression darkening ever so slightly.

“you think you don’t need help, you think you’re fine just ignoring your emotions, but one day they will catch up to you and it’ll be too late to save you” her voice lowered, almost shamefully, as she tore her eyes away from his.

“nobody will be there to save you from drowning.”

satoru looked shocked for a moment, then he felt a sudden and unprovoked rage take over his body.

how dare she?

he wasn’t like that. he was strong. the strongest, actually.

he wordlessly jumped up from of his seat and went to stride straight out of the room, with the intention of never stepping foot there again, but then he stopped, his back still to her.

for some weird reason he couldn’t quite comprehend, gojo felt the need to still try and prove he was fine, despite the fact the issues he’d tried so hard to hide had been uncovered and brought up to the scorching sunlight.

“i’m not stupid. i am perfectly aware shit might eventually catch up to me, but i’m the strongest fucking being that ever walked this earth, i’ll deal with it”

what was meant to be a powerful statement, came out sounding whiny and hoarse, almost like he was trying to delude himself into believing his own words.

‘at least he admitted he has issues, progress is progress’

his therapist opened her mouth to talk, but he didn’t give her a chance.

he felt like he was being consumed by a sudden and foreign rage.

“BESIDES WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?!” he suddenly screamed, rapidly turning to face her again, his glasses being hauled across the room in the process.

“why are you that concerned over some stranger like me?” he adds, his expression hard, “do you genuinely, truly, believe I’m worth helping?!”

‘we’re going to have to work on these self deprecating thoughts’

‘im the strongest, i don’t need to be cared for.’

“yes, i do” she stood up from her chair in a (failed) attempt to not crane her neck upwards to look at him.

“i do believe you are worth helping” she assured him in a gentle voice “you can walk out now, if you wish, but never forget this is a safe space where you’re free to talk, satoru” she said, her words surprisingly comforting.

“you’re not a god, you’re human just like the rest of us”

being called human never felt so good.. and it was also the first time she had ever called him by his first name.

and just like that, the usual gojo satoru was back, cracking jokes.

“do you normally call your clients by their first name, or am i special?” he asked, the question dripping with sarcasm and a tiny bit of flirt, as a small smile appeared on his lips.

the angry pretty boy has been calmed down, success.

“you definitely have a savior complex” he added quietly, chuckling a bit “it’s cute”.

a smile made its way on her face too as she shook her head a little, her cheeks a little warm at the compliment “whatever lets you sleep at night”

the woman sat back down, once again crossing one leg over the other.

“now, will you sit down and give therapy an actual chance, satoru?” she looked up at him, expectantly and hopefully.

“yeah.. yeah, i’ll do that.”

gojo satoru may have been the strongest sorcerer in modern history, but he was still human like everyone else.

☆

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