#TIME FOR ME TO RAMBLE ABOUT POINTLESS THINGS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solaerina · 1 month ago

Text

𓂃 ˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀𓂃𓈒 ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴍɪɴᴇ 𓈒𓂃⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖

𖥔 ͙ࣳ 𓂃ˑ ֗ ˖⋆⑅ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ⑅⋆˖ ֗ˑ𓂃 ͙ࣳ𖥔

✿ ⋆.ೃ࿔:･ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴅɢᴇʜᴏɢ x [ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ] ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

: ̗̀➛ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀʟʏ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇꜱᴄᴀʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ A ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ.

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ[ꜱ]: none ˖ . ݁ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

: ̗̀➛ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.1𝚔

➹ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛꜱ: ᴍɪᴋᴇʏᴋᴜɴꜱ, ʙᴇʀɴᴀʀᴅʙᴇɴᴅʏꜱᴛʀᴀᴡꜱ | edited | AO3 Ver. | Mobian Reader

The bitter coldness of the evening bit at your furs. The warm lights shone through the delicate mist of the night. It was that time of the year where people rejoice on the eve of christmas. Folks passed, some of them had their hands intertwined chatting on with their lives. Romance floated strong and thick across the atmosphere, unfading.

The touch of sadness roamed your heart in circles, loneliness greeting you like the autumn’s fall bequeathed by the winter’s chill. Here you sat on the bench alone, shivering in your boots. Shadow had gone and never came back. You supposed that this whole date set up took a toll on his patience and probably headed home. Shadow was not the one to engage in such activities but..a moment between you under the romantic occasion wouldn’t hurt to experience just for once.

Maybe you shouldn’t have persuaded him with this. You might have forced him to go with you out of his will. The guilt jabbed at your heart like a needle. How could you have been so dense? Of course Shadow was not the one to blend into some pointless dates! Now you must have made him mad or ruined his mood.

Your fingers screwed through the fabrics of your dress and bit your inner lip as your gaze lowered. Dozens of negative thoughts rammed through your head as you sunk into the depths of it. Too lost at detesting yourself, someone had approached you and called your name, unnoticed by you. Until they knelt before your level and tapped gently at your cheek. Surprised by the unwelcome gesture, you snapped away from your trance and was tugged back into reality. Your head lifted right up and your eyes met with familiar red ones you’ve been longing to gaze on the entire evening, donned in a brown coat with a red scarf wrapped around his neck to keep him warm.

“Shadow?” His name fell onto your lips before you knew it. How you missed him. It took you great restraint from jumping to him and hugging him tight, never wanting him to disappear from your sight ever again. Yet, Shadow was not the one who is accustomed to physical contacts. If forcing him to engage with you unwillingly on this date was not bad enough, then you should start to refrain yourself from now on.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, your voice almost failing you as if you were about to break any second, casting your eyes downwards again. “This date was a bad idea and I shouldn’t have forced you to go with me,” you failed to see the crease of the dark hedgehog’s expression as you continued to ramble out. “I’m sorry on making you go even though I knew that you’re not used on this kind of things I just..” you pause for a second, needing a moment of reprieve by the heavy weight on your chest, your ears flattening against your head as a look of pure sadness painted your complexion. “I just wanted to spend time with you..” your voice drops, barely above a whisper.

And it was followed by silence, receiving no answer from the black hedgehog himself. This caused an anxiety to stir inside your chest, thinking you might have made his mood sour that it’s already been. He might think that you were being too ‘clingy’ for his liking. Were you acting rather persistent than you realised? What if he decided to leave you after this?

You heard Shadow give out a sigh, light and soft. One of your ears flicks at the sound.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” Shadow finally spoke, his voice calm and steady. “You didn’t force me into anything,” he stated and raised a hand to show a cup he’s been holding in his hand, “I bought a coffee in the nearby shop here. Didn’t I tell you that?”

Coffee?

You look back up again and see the cup in the black hedgehog’s gloved hand. “The temperature had gone way lower than it probably should. I figured a hot beverage would keep you warm for the time being.”

The sadness that once enveloped you was now replaced by a delicate flow of confounded relief. Did he really.. “You’re not mad?” you ask him quietly.

Shadow raised a brow, your question bemusing him. “Why would I be?”

You meet his eyes, his red irises boring deep into yours. Pleasant warmth creeped up into your neck and climbed towards your face, spreading the heat throughout your furs.

“I thought you were getting annoyed by all this. Spending your time with me and dragging you throughout this place. You were suddenly gone and I couldn’t find you anywhere,” you meekly explained to him as a tiny smog wisps out from your lips from the winter’s air.

A faint gleam surfaces from Shadow’s red eyes, barely visible that you failed to catch it. “I wasn’t,” he says as he took a moment to look around the wintry place; people with friends, family, and even the lovers passing by. He studied them as if figuring out if this is how they bond with each other when seasons like this occur. “This is all new to me. It didn’t sit right with me at first to be in this place, to be associated with many people since I am accustomed to solitude for a long time. However,” Shadow returned his gaze to you and you swore that you saw a glimpse of underlying crumble of the pensive, stern demeanor that hardened him, to a frontage display of vulnerability that resided deep somewhere in his heart.

“..If it’s with you, then I’m willing to try and allow myself to adapt in this conforming world of yours. If that would cost me to see the look of joy of contentment in your face.” he professes, straightforwardly, his deep voice wreathed in pure and distilled sincerity that even it could quell the flame’s scorching disaster.

You stared at him wide-eyed, flabbergasted, lost at words. Your heart raced against your ribcage as it ached to burst out. There was a constant tingle in your nerves, a tickle to your bloodstream, and a strew of downy sensation mending through your furs. Did Shadow always sound this daring and upfront? Or does he have a way of picking his words?

Either way, with each time that passes by, the longer you know him, the more you discover a part of him that you never expected to see. He was a man who was shrouded in obscurity, hard to decipher what runs inside his thoughts.

Flame burned the surface of your face and covered it with your gloved hands, embarrassment taking over you. Yet, the wagging of your fluffy tail from behind betrayed your concealment. Shadow caught the motion and the corner of his lips quirks into a small smirk, amused.

“I thought you’d left me,” you murmur behind your hand, unable to look Shadow in the eye. At this rate, you were surely convinced that there were steams coming out of your now reddened ears. Then, a hand came to your wrist and gently pulled it away from your face. “I would never leave you here alone. You were probably too focused on watching the performer a while ago that you were unable to hear what I told you.”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you recalled Shadow telling you something while you were watching the performer do his tricks to entertain people. What an oblivious girl you were. “I’m sorry..”

“None of that,” Shadow replies and gestured the cup towards you, offering for you to take it. “Here, drink it before it gets cold.”

You look at him bashfully for another seconds before you softly smile, touched by his genteel gesture and took the cup from him.

Shadow then got up from his knee and sat on the bench beside you. You blew the airy steam of your caffeine before taking a small sip, a calming relief flooding your senses as the liquid flows through you. While you were sipping on your coffee, a warm sensation was felt around your neck and you turned your head to see Shadow wrapping his red scarf around you.

“It’s getting colder out here,” he says to you while he worked his hands on the red scarf until it was loosely secured enough to give room for you to breathe and ensured it wouldn’t come off.

Tingles of bubbly sensation formed in your guts. The scent of him wafted from the soft cotton on your neck, your fingers coming to gingerly caress the fabric on her skin. “Thank you, Shadow.”

Under the tranquility of the winter eve, the chill of the breeze went on and blew through the atmosphere in its tender currents. In the midst of the stillness, a group of people appeared carrying various instruments. They worked on arranging and organizing their equipment until they were all prepared to play a ballad for the crowd.

The song starts in a delicate strum of violin, resonating throughout the atmosphere. Then it was followed by a soft hum of brass, coupled along with the piano and trumpet, until it formed into a lovely continuous play of the ballad, adding more charm to the winter’s eve. People were starting to take interest at the song; gathering around in two or more as joyous chatters and laughs left them as a mirthful aura spreaded across the area. Some of them started to sway along, dancing leisurely to their heart’s content with their lovers or friends while the children played and ran around.

“How lovely,” you mutter in awe, watching as the scene unfolds through your eyes. Shadow was watching as well, observing the way people interact with each other, how they were in sync with the song as they laughed in merriment to the delightful hour.

“Do you want to join them?”

Your eyes flickered to him, astonishment written all over your face, lips parted. Shadow, the Ultimate Lifeform, asking you to join along the people who are dancing? The world must be healing itself.

“Do you mean to ask me for a dance?” You question, wanting to make sure if Shadow’s invitation is purely honest. Your tail ruffles lightly behind as you anticipate his answer.

The black hedgehog shifts on his seat and teared his eyes from you, adjusting his scarf around his neck. That was odd, his neck felt warmer than usual and tight for some reason. “Maybe, I am.” He answers without looking at you.

You blinked as you gazed at him. If there were things you knew about Shadow, he is good in nature, selfless, someone who cares for people but doesn’t know how to express it. And by so, he puts an effort to understand those around him, noticing the little things that they like, seeing through them, and most importantly protecting them from harm in the only way he knows how. In the image of a tough exterior to cover his weakness, concealing his true self that still lingered within him since the day of the tragic fate that had befallen him and took away the girl he cherished the most.

Somewhere in him, there was still that innocent boy trapped inside him, longing to find where he belonged, someone he can call home, someone to hold him and shield him away from all the perils that seek to pursue him.

Not wanting to wait for long enough, you gave him an answer, “I would love to, Shadow,” a soft, tender smile bloomed across your youthful face, bearing that resemblance of a flower blossoming into a full bloom in its vibrant color.

Shadow returned his gaze to you, his sanguine eyes boring into yours. His expression was unreadable, but not unreadable enough for you to perceive the faint spark that lingered in his sharp-red eyes before quickly vanishing.

“That’s settled, then,” he states before standing up from his seat and offering you a hand. You took it and he gently pulled you up to his feet. He asks you if you already drank all of your coffee and you answer him with a ‘yes’ before he takes the empty cup and throws it away at the nearby trash can, not missing the target.

And so the two pairs went on their way to join the little crowd that continued to waltz the night away. Shadow was ahead of you, guiding your way where you both would situate yourselves among the people. His hand felt hot against yours. The hands that were used to destroy anything that imposes threat – a stark contrast of how he was holding your hand like a fragile glass, as if he was afraid to break it.

It didn’t take long for them to find their place. The engaging ballad stayed roaming free across the area in a beautiful trail of melody, whispering songs in the cold air. You faced one another. Your heart skipped a beat, nervousness claiming your being.

To dance with a partner requires holding together as one.

Your cheeks burned at the thought. Shadow, as if sensing your feelings, took the initiative action and grabbed one of your hands to hold it with his while he rested the other on his shoulder, leading them both to sway along with the people. A soft gasp escaped your lips, taken aback, your heart jumping inside your chest. The feeling intensified when the firm yet warm sensation of his hand held the side of your waist, then the mesmerizing image of his red eyes scribbled in restrained emotions, their rims glinting as if they told a million words yet remained unspoken.

“Is this everything that you hoped for?” Shadow utters under his breath, staring deeply into your eyes. You hold his gaze, and find yourself being trapped in. There was always something in his voice that comforted you, though deep but strangely captivating. You softly smiled at him and nodded.

“It is,” you answer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Out of the corner of Shadow’s lips, it curled into a small smile. Something he rarely shows to people he’s fond of. “Let’s make this a little more livelier, shall we?”

You look at him with curiosity. Before you can ask him what he meant by his words, Shadow suddenly lets go of your waist and uses the hand that was still locked in yours to twirl you around. A high-pitched startled noise left you, clearly not expecting for Shadow to do such a lively gesture yet he did. And since when did he learn the concept of dancing?

You weren’t able to grasp what his next move would be, because you were suddenly swept off the ground, high in the air with two strong hands holding your waist and spun you around in a quick circle. You let out another noise, higher this time and a little louder, then followed by an enthusiastic laughter. You felt the ground on your feet again as you were carefully placed down back to Shadow’s arms.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” you asked breathlessly as you panted, your hands coming to hold onto his shoulders and rested your head against it. Your heart was palpitating fast.

“I have my ways,” Shadow simply answers, as he envelops his arms around you back to steady your wobbly figure.

You gave out an airy chuckle, still breathless from your recent activity. After all this time, Shadow never ceases to surprise you, uncovering yet another newfound part of him that existed. You pull your head away from his shoulder to look at him, a soft satisfied smile gracing your features. You locked eyes again.

You’ve never been this close to each other.

Your noses almost touched, bodies wrapped into one another with no gap left to separate you and him. It took a few moments for them to realize the angle they were in before the awareness struck in. Both of the pair’s eyes widened and quickly adjusted themselves, resuming back to their previous stance. Shadow cleared his throat and looked to the side, while you were trying your best to recollect your jumbled thoughts of what just occurred, trying to calm your beating heart down.

“Are you enjoying yourself so far?” Shadow asked, cutting the awkwardness that passed over them a while ago.

Your heart had already simmered down and finally recollected yourself, beaming a smile at him. “Of course, I am. Very so!”

Shadow’s expression softened at your words, far from the usual stern face he shows at all times. He didn’t say anything after that.

The winterly night went on. The number of people became fewer as they went on ahead in their lives, their enjoyment throughout the evening already spent. The musicians stayed as they continued to perform their song, seemingly lost in their own world, filling the area with a sea of ambience.

The cold air grew more potent as time passed by. But that coldness didn’t seem to trouble the two pairs, the warmth of their bodies preventing the chill to seep into their furs.

“Hey, Shadow,” You called quietly to the black hedgehog to which he responded with a hum. “Did I ever mention that your eyes are pretty?”

Shadow’s ear twitched as his left brow arched, intrigued. “My eyes?”

“Mm-hm,” you smiled gingerly, her lids creasing as your irises twinkled in fondness. “I always love looking at them. It reminds me of the times when I would look at the red sky and watch as the sun slowly lowers from the horizon while I admire it from afar. It’s truly beautiful to see, just like yours.”

Shadow’s eyes expanded, a shift in his demeanor as his lips parted. There was a speck of vulnerability that danced in the rims of his irises. But then it soon disappears and a look of disdain loomed over him and darted his eyes away.

“You shouldn’t think of such sentimental thoughts. You overvalue your perceptions towards me. You know where I came from don’t you? What I’m created of?” his voice lowers, the tone cold as ice and sharp as a knife.

Both of them ceased their movements as mild tension hung between them. Sadness fell into you as your chest tightened. How quickly his demeanor has changed; earlier he was warming up to you as he appeared to be in a lighter mood and now, it immediately faded. The delicate look on his red eyes, she wanted to see them again.

Shadow’s expression was strained, as if he’s relieving a horrible memory, how the self-loathe rekindles in him, despising his existence. You felt his hand tensed against yours. Whatever he was feeling right now, it’s taking a dreadful turn on his mood.

“Hey,” you softly implore him and ever so gently, you unlatch your hand that holded him and place it on his cheek and carefully tilt it to meet your gaze. “You told me that story before, right?” you utter to him, reminiscing the time where he hesitated to tell you of his origins, how he was created, and his previous life at the Ark. It’s as if he didn’t want you to know whose blood that runs in him, and how he almost destroyed the Earth once out of hatred and revenge against humanity.

It took a second for Shadow to answer before he nodded. Your thumb fondly stroked the fur under his lids as you spoke, “Then do you remember what I told you after telling me your story?” You were answered with a nod again. Shadow remains quiet but is clearly paying attention to you.

“Then my words are the same as before. It doesn’t matter how you were born or whose blood you are connected with. You are way more than what you think of yourself. You’re you, Shadow. It’s what you do that makes you who you are, what you choose to be. And that includes protecting this world, humanity, and us. So please..” you breathed, a melancholic gaze dawning on your features as you sadly smiled at him, your glassy eyes imploring.

“Don’t hate yourself any longer. Don’t turn blind to the true value that resides in your soul.”

If there was the least you can do to ease the deep scar in his heart, is to be there for him through his dark times.

Shadow didn’t say anything. The only evidence of acknowledgement you could grasp was the spark in his gaze. His eyes screamed in dozens of emotions more than he could show, words that were left unspoken that ached to be told.

Then, a tiny pale white particle fell over Shadow's nose. Followed by the other as it landed on his black furs, the shade of its contrast visible. More and more of the ice particles fell down from the sky until it became a semblance of a drizzle of rain.

Shadow looks up, witnessing the first snow of the month pouring down from the greyish sky. He breathes silently, casting a light, transparent smoke to waft from his lips. He remembers a certain girl telling him once, aboard in the Ark where it’s only just the two of them as they both studied the seasonal occasions on the Earth with a book. Winter was the one she greatly wished to experience, rambling how they would play in the pile of snow, build a snowman, make an angel pattern on the snowy ground, everything else the season has to offer. But one thing stuck to his mind.

“It says here that snow symbolizes innocence and a fresh start to life. Can you imagine how lovely would that be, Shadow? When we’re finally on Earth, we can start over and witness the beautiful experience of winter’s embrace! I can’t wait for that moment to come!”

He closed his eyes as he relieved the fond memory of his past, feeling the droplets of snow falling to his face and quills as he lost himself in it. Are you watching over me, Maria?

“Shadow?” a soft voice calls out. Shadow breaks out from his moment of reprieve. He opened his eyes again and casted his head down, meeting your gaze once more.

He knew that wishful dream between them would never come true.

But wishes don’t always have to be one sided for him. She wanted him to be happy after all.

People around them bustled with life and merriment, overjoyed by the sight of the snow pouring constantly on their figures. The song had stopped too, the performers seemingly distracted by the winter’s grace visit.

You thought you might have said something wrong or exaggerated your words, because Shadow was being silent longer than he should. You open your mouth to express your apology but before you could, Shadow had leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. Gone were the scornful gleam in his red eyes as they now swam in sincerity and longing. You nearly gasped at the contact, your breath stolen from you.

“Perhaps I should start making memories with you from now on.” Shadow declares, his voice quiet but soft. One that he never thought he’s capable of sounding like.

Your eyes widened at his statement in shock. He took the words completely right out of you, rendering you unable to form any sentences. Somersaults came breaking in through your chest, a strong wave of adrenaline coursing through your nerves. Never in your life would you ever hear such declarations coming from him. It sounded like a vow he forged between you. It’s as if you’ve reached the stars in the sky, for they have blessed her with their divine gift.

“W-What is it with you and the way you talk? It’s..unfair.” The entirety of your face turned bleak red all the way down to your neck, the close proximity between sending wild races to your heart. You feared it wouldn’t calm down after this.

Shadow only gave you a sided smirk and to your disappointment, he pulled away from you too soon.

“We should head home,” he said while looking around the area, observing whether the snowfall would amplify its strength as it will be difficult to ride in the thick pile of snow down in the road later on.

Meanwhile, you still haven’t recovered prior to your blissed out emotions, hot steams blowing out from your ears. How could he act so normally after what he just did?!

And then again, there are still more time for them to unravel your moments together. Or even so, maybe there will be a time where Shadow can fully accept himself.

author’s notes: another fic of shadow yeyyy! I hope you like this fic I’ve written. I was actually planning to write for the Idol! Shadow but this concept really took an idea out of me since Christmas is nearing! So Merry Christmas to you all and more for our beloved ultimate lifeform fics shall be written! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! ♡ ꒰ˆ. . ˆ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི꒱੭ﾞ

#❤︎ ྀི ݁𓂅˚۪ flevoiruna #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader

528 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

Text

fuck it, i love you - okkotsu yuuta

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 11k warnings: none really. reader likes lemon oreos bcuz i projected onto this <3 summary: (y/n) and yuuta get to know each other better over the phone while he's on assignment in africa. feelings ensue. more info: long distance friends to lovers, yuuta got that romance dawg in him

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ and you know everyone adores you // you can’t feel it and you’re tired // baby, wish that you would hold me or just say that you were mine // but it’s killing me slowly ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first time he gets a call from her, Yuuta is a little perplexed before he answers the phone. Of the few people he might’ve expected a phone call from, (y/n’s) was the last name he expected to see on his screen. Nonetheless, he answered it right away.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Okkotsu,” Her voice was so cheerful, he could’ve easily believed that she meant to call someone else. But she’d said his name, so it couldn’t have been a mistake. “How’s Morocco?”

“Morocco, is….” He trails off, fingers tapping a poor rhythm on the table in front of him. Doing paperwork in a hotel room wasn’t ideal. The desk provided was always small, and the chair always uncomfortable. But it wasn’t like he had a lot to report anyways. “It’s alright, I guess”

“Alright, you guess?” She repeats curiously. “Sounds like you’re bored already”

“Bored-? N-no, no I’m not bored,” He stammered over his words, and (y/n) could be heard laughing through the line. “I’m just, um, I��m trying to do a report right now” He said sheepishly.

Trying being the key word. He’d practically given up ten minutes before he got her call anyways.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” (y/n) apologized right away. “Am I keeping you? Should I go?”

“N-no!” Yuuta squeaked, cringing at himself as he slumped back into his hair, covering his face with his hand as if there was anyone else around to hide his embarrassment from. “No, you’re not keeping me, I… I have nothing for this report anyways” He explained.

“Really? Not goin’ so well?” She asked.

“Uh- it’s just- I don’t want to bore you with it,” He sighed. “Anyways, what’s the call for? Isn’t it like…” He glances behind him at the analog clock on his bedside table, wincing when he sees how late it was. “Three in the morning, your time?”

“Actually, it’s only two forty-five,” She corrects with a clear smile in her tone. “And aren’t I allowed to check in? You’ve been gone, for like, weeks”

“Y-yeah, you’re allowed,” He mumbles back, face feeling hot. “I just figured, y’know, you’re… busy”

“Never too busy,” She half-jokes. “So tell me all about it, boring parts and all”

Yuuta’s brows pinch together, a small scoff leaving his throat.

“Really?” He’s unsure as to why she’d want to hear about the ins and outs of a trip that so far had proven to be pointless. “You sure you want to hear about it?”

“Course,” She hums back. “Beats studying”

So he complies. There’s not much to tell, but he finds a way to walk her through what his day-to-day with Miguel was like. Looking for more of the Black Rope. She seemed to have some interest in the cursed tool, asking excitedly if it could stop the cursed techniques of even the strongest special grade sorcerers.

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point,” He chuckles. “But it’s been slow. I’m starting to think this is going to take longer than we thought…”

(y/n’s) a good listener. She lets him ramble on even when he’s not making sense, and continues to prod and ask more questions when she comes up with them. He thinks maybe she’s just stalling to keep her from studying, but he figures there were countless other things she could’ve done to keep her occupied… right?

It’s not until Yuuta notices the clock and remembers the time difference between them that he finally stops his rambling and suggests they end their call soon.

“Ah- it’s late, and I’m probably boring you now, too” He lets out a light hearted chuckle that she can’t help but reciprocate.

“I guess I should try to study just a little” She huffs.

Yuuta scoffs, a small smile on his face as he picks up his pen and stares at the half-finished report in front of him. Maybe he’d been stalling, too.

“Or you could just go to bed, cram last minute tomorrow” He suggests.

She seems amused by that, and when she lets out a little laugh he thinks it’s the right choice, too. The noise comes out lazily, full of sleepiness. It’s obvious even through the phone. Yuuta wonders if she’s hunched over her desk, ignoring the textbook and notes right in front of her.

“You’re pr’lly right,” She murmurs, her tiredness even more evident in her voice. “I guess I’ll go to bed then”

“Okay,” Yuuta drums the pen against his thigh in an erratic beat. Something about saying goodnight makes him feel a little disappointed.

Until now, he hadn’t realized that it had been weeks since he’d casually talked to a friend. Toge texted plenty, and sometimes he heard from Panda and Maki, too. But this felt… different.

“Well, goodnight-”

“And Okkotsu?” She interrupts him without realizing, quickly apologizing before she continues her thought. “You didn’t bore me, just for the record. I think it’s neat that you get to be on such a special assignment. I hope that it gets more exciting for you”

He’s thankful that she didn’t opt to facetime him, because his face grows so warm he just knows he’s turned into a tomato. And something about sitting in his lonely little hotel room and blushing over such a simple comment is downright embarrassing.

He laughs nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt to relieve the heat on his neck.

“Uh, yeah, me too,” He stammered quietly. “Thanks. Good luck with studying”

She hums.

“Goodnight, Okkotsu. Thanks for keeping me company”

The call ends there, and Yuuta smiles to himself as he sets his phone down and finds the energy to finish up his pointless report.

Talking with her had been nice. Maybe they hadn’t become the closest of friends between him enrolling at Jujutsu Tech and being shipped off to Africa, but he thinks that could- and should- change.

He’d have to make more of an effort to get closer to her while he was away.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When (y/n) calls again, it’s not so late this time.

Yuuta had just settled in the hotel lobby with his burrito for lunch, his only plan for the time being was to scroll aimlessly on his phone while he ate. To his luck, just as he sat down on the stiff cushioned chair in the lobby, his phone rang.

“Okkotsu!”

It had been a little over a week since their last call, and Yuuta had done his best to keep in touch with her since then. A few photos of the wildlife native to the area that she seemed to enjoy, or a pretty sunrise here or there. There were a lot of messages sent to her first thing in the morning, beautiful photos tagged with his complaints of being up so early. It was the easiest time to use his phone, and he’d tried to make a habit of at least messaging her once a day.

To his delight, she always sent him a response. It wasn’t always right away, with an eight hour time difference that was a steep ask, but she never failed to let him know that she saw his message and appreciated it somehow. Whether it was an emoji reaction or a full text, she never left a text from him unanswered. Strangely, Yuuta found this to be thoughtful of her.

“I’m cooking, can you believe it!?” She sounds excited, but the kind of excited that seems like something very wrong is about to happen.

“O-oh?” He stutters, chucking as he tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder so he could unwrap his burrito. “What, are you not allowed, or something?”

“Hush, I don’t let anyone tell me what to do,” She laughs at his comment, not realizing he wasn’t joking. “I just haven’t cooked for myself properly since moving away from home. The kitchen here is puny, though,” She mutters the last part.

The muffled sounds coming through the speaker sound as though she’s rummaging around the cabinets. Yuuta tilts his phone away from his ear a little, the dishware clanking together more unpleasant than usual coming through a phone.

“But I thought it’d be nice to make a home cooked dinner. I was going to make some for everyone, but I guess they already ate. So it’s dinner for one tonight,” She explains. Yuuta’s chest sinks with disappointment at the thought of missing quality time with his friends. “Anyways, what’re you up to?”

“Eating a burrito,” He replies dryly. “What are you making? I’d much rather have that”

“Don’t speak too soon, it’s been a while since I’ve been in a kitchen,”

(y/n) laughs, and Yuuta does too.

“Just ramen,” She answers. “Figured it’s best to start out simple. Also figured I couldn’t set anything on fire”

“Depends on how you look at it. Setting something on fire while only cooking ramen might be an accomplishment, with how difficult it must be”

He doesn’t mean to be funny, but (y/n’s) laughing again, and Yuuta smiles through a mouthful of burrito for saying something clever enough. Pride swells in his chest the longer he hears her laughter turn to muted giggles while she’s pittering about the kitchen.

“You’re eating, should I let you go?” She asks once her laughter has calmed down.

“No, it’s alright,” Yuuta shakes his head even though he knows she can’t see. “I’m bored anyways. I was just going to sit here by myself and eat this burrito”

She laughs again, lightly this time.

“Alright, then, want me to tell you about how hard Maki kicked my ass in training yesterday?” She offers.

He’d already had an inkling, recalling a harshly worded text from her followed by a photo of her left leg covered in blue and purple marks that were bound to grow dark soon. He’d cringed when he’d seen it, giving the image a frowning emoji reaction before responding with, ‘Maki?’. But he happily agrees to have her tell him the rest of the story behind the bruises.

He deems (y/n) and Maki to hold a far closer friendship than he did himself, so he knew that the next five minutes of ranting on her part is in good nature and she was only annoyed with losing, not necessarily with Maki herself. That said, as someone who had dealt with the torture of training with her, Yuuta understood the feeling quite well. He laughs when she talks about being thrown to the ground like a ragdoll, and he winces when she tells him about the absolute beatdown she’d taken.

It’s a gruesome retelling, even though at times she talks as if it was as casual a part of her day as brushing her teeth had been. The life of a jujutsu sorcerer was always an unorthodox one.

“She didn’t even try to go easy on me, Okkotsu. But, she did get me an ice cream sandwich with my ice pack, so she’s still my best friend, I guess” She’s only teasing, evident in the way she giggles.

“Yuuta” He says without thinking, having happened to swallow the last of his food and finally getting a chance to speak.

“Hm- what?”

“You can just call me Yuuta” He clarifies, eyes darting around the lobby to be sure no one could see him blushing.

His voice grows quieter as he suddenly feels bashful in the public setting. None of the people passing in and out of the space pay him a second glance, and it doesn’t dawn on him that they might not even understand his language, but his body language says enough. He’s tucked into the corner chair, hunched over and holding the phone as close to his face as possible so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice too much. Not to mention, his face was turning a rosy shade of pink.

“Alright, Yuuta,” (y/n) muses, testing the waters to see how his name sounded. It felt foreign, and it had the color in Yuuta’s face darkening even faster, but she seemed amused by the change. “Ramen’s coming along pretty well, I think it’ll actually be edible!”

She’s quick to move on from the semi-serious topic. He’s relieved for this, and does his best to come across as casual as possible. He asks her about the recipe, and she talks to him for a while about her process until the conversation somehow turns back on him and he’s updating her about Morocco.

Time passes so easily, Yuuta barely realizes that he’s been sitting in the lobby for an hour, not thinking about how she had finished her dinner and eaten it too. (y/n) never mentions the time either, unknown to him, sitting on the counter in the common room’s kitchenette as she talks aimlessly about anything and everything she can think of. Yuuta enjoys hearing about it all, the shenanigans that she’s been up to with Toge, the odd style of teaching that Gojo has, even just the simple things, like how yesterday it had rained.

There’s something magical about being on the phone with her, he realizes halfway into hearing about how she’d gone outside to help the worms back into the grass after the rainfall. Not only does he lose time, but there’s not a dull moment. Most of his days had become so bland and boring they’d started to blend together. Besides the occasional sword training, he’d spent the majority of his time wandering about with Miguel. It was starting to feel aimless, with every passing day that they came up empty handed.

Talking with her was everything but boring, never boring. It finally felt like he had some company to get him through this assignment. He hoped that this second call meant they could make more of a habit out of it.

“I should probably go so I can clean up the kitchen,” She sighs when she finally suggests getting off the phone. It’s then, and only then, that Yuuta checks the time, quickly pulling his phone away to tap the screen before putting it up to his ear again. “I think it’d be obnoxious for me to stay on the phone while I do the dishes” She adds with a chuckle.

His heart spikes at the idea of her wanting to keep talking, though.

“Y-yeah, that might be too loud,” He replies. “But that’s okay, I should probably get some training in, or something, anyways”

“Gotta keep up that Special Grade status,” (y/n) teases. He’s grateful she can’t see him fluster every time she teases him, no matter how lighthearted it is. He’s not sure why it sends him into a mini panic every time, but he hopes he gets a hang of himself soon, if they’re going to keep talking like this. “Talk soon, though?”

He’d really have to learn to get a hold of himself. The short question has him beaming and nodding his head wildly, although the only people to see it are the hotel staff at the check-in desk who’d been peeking glances at the weird talkative boy on his phone for the last two hours.

Yuuta clears his throat before speaking, hoping to sound as normal as possible.

“Yeah, yeah we can talk again soon”

He’s not sure how well he does.

“Okay, cool,” The smile is evident in her tone, and in turn has Yuuta smiling too. “Talk to you later then, Yuuta”

Maybe he was just hopeless, but hearing his name again has him blushing and fidgeting in his seat.

“Bye, (y/n)”

Even once the call has ended and his phone is sitting lifeless in his lap, with the rush of adrenaline Yuuta gets, one might think he’d just received the best news of his life. Funnily enough, he hadn’t received much news at all- besides the fact that the worms on Jujutsu Tech Tokyo’s property were safe and accounted for after a life threatening sprinkle- so his giddiness was solely brought on by talking with her.

Slowly but surely, she was becoming his favorite person to talk to.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[y/n]: need ur help, it’s urgent [y/n]: ok woah i should not have said it like that

[yuuta]: ??? are you ok???

[y/n]: need u to help me win a bet

[yuuta]: ._. [yuuta]: ok.

[y/n]: vanilla oreos suck, right?

[yuuta]: this was urgent?

[y/n]: panda said they’re his favorite flavor.

[yuuta]: oh god. [yuuta]: he needs a wellness check for sure.

[y/n]: THANK YOU [y/n]: toge said his fav were the birthday cake ones but the vanilla weren’t bad. he’s still got the taste of a toddler, but at least they’re not his FAVORITE i mean cmon. vanilla is just bad. [y/n]: i knew you’d understand me.

[yuuta]: ur right this was urgent. i thought i knew them. [yuuta]: what are your favorite?

[y/n]: obviously i told them original.

[yuuta]: … implying they’re not actually your favorite?

[y/n]: you’re asking very personal questions, yuuta

[yuuta]: lmfao [yuuta]: i’ll tell u mine if u tell me urs :)

[y/n]: u first i’m shy :)

[yuuta]: original are good. but i like the toffee ones best

[y/n]: interesting.

[yuuta]: so am i getting judged for my oreo preference, too?

[y/n]: lol no. ur safe. for now ;)

[yuuta]: well we had a deal. what’s ur fav?

[y/n]: … i like the lemon ones

[yuuta]: :o [yuuta]: don’t those come with a VANILLA cookie???

[y/n]: … [y/n]: maybe.

[yuuta]: ur ridiculous

[y/n]: but the lemon flavor makes it different. it’s not PLAIN vanilla.

[yuuta]: can’t argue with u there

[y/n]: ya bcuz u wouldn’t dare :)

[yuuta]: no i wouldn’t :)

[y/n]: mwahaha i have the big scary special grade afraid of me :)

[yuuta]: idk about big. and the scary is all rika

[y/n]: does she have a take on the great oreo flavor debate? <3

[yuuta]: … [yuuta]: she always preferred animal crackers.

[y/n]: <;/3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Yuuta finally works up the courage to call her first, it’s been a couple weeks.

Which in hindsight, it feels like too much time has passed. Even though they’ve been texting every single day nearly nonstop. Yuuta had grown so attached to his phone it was almost becoming a problem.

Not that he’d admit it.

“Okkotsu Yuuta!” She picks up the phone with the same eagerness she’d held the last time she’d called him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was bored, and was hoping you had something interesting going on,” He sighed, falling backwards on the perfectly made bed in his room. Too perfect. It was always annoying to tug the covers out of their tightly tucked corners to comfortably sleep at night. “All I’ve been doing is train and I’m exhausted” He grumbles.

(y/n) hums through the speaker.

“Well if you’re that bored, I suppose I could tell you about a boy conflict of mine,” She suggests.

Just as Yuuta was starting to relax into the mattress, he felt his spine go stiff as a chill shot from his tailbone all the way up to his neck. It feels like his entire body has been drenched in icy water, freezing him solid.

“It’s okay if that’s too… weird, though” He’s drawn back to reality by (y/n’s) nervous laugh, something he doesn’t hear all that often. It’s strained and awkward, displaying every bit of anxious emotion that she felt.

“It’s not weird,” Yuuta’s not usually very good at lying, people always have a way of seeing right through him. He wonders if he’s only decent at telling this one because she’s not physically here. She can’t see the way his face contorts as it tries to stay neutral, or how his fingers start to tap against the comforter beneath him. “Boy conflict is… normal” He adds.

He’d meant that one, but she laughs anyway.

“I guess so,” She sighs through the speaker. “But I’ve never really had any before. Not like you get to meet a lot of people. But… I guess I met someone..?”

Yuuta’s gut twists, and he wonders if he ate something bad with his lunch. Maybe the chicken was undercooked? No, it seemed fine. He probably just ate too fast.

“That feels less like conflict and more like interest” His jaw feels tight when he talks. With his free hand, he rubs at it and tries to keep his teeth from clenching.

“Well, I am interested,”

Distantly, Yuuta thinks he should swallow some tums before he goes to bed so this stomach ache won’t keep him up all night.

“At least, I think I am,” (y/n) sighs again. “He’s not a sorcerer, I met him at a corner store I went to with Maki,” She explains. “He was cute and all, I guess we had a moment over the energy drinks? It’s kind of a blur, I didn’t really pay attention until he was handing me his number and now I have this number and- I don’t know. Is that weird?”

Yuuta’s not really sure what to tell her. He’s not really sure how he feels about it. His gut tells him that yes, it is weird, and she shouldn’t be going out with some guy she met at a convenience store. Anyone can walk into one of those, he thinks bitterly, his brow furrowed as he thought over her dilemma.

“Well, um, did he seem… nice?”

The question comes out pathetic. Yuuta’s smacking his hand over his face from how stupid he sounds, and feels.

“Yeah, I guess” (y/n) answers anyways.

“Then I guess ball’s in your court?” The suggestion comes out more as a question than he means it to. Yuuta thinks he wasn’t equipped for this, and maybe he should have told her it was a weird thing for them to talk about.

But he wouldn’t have meant that. He would talk to her about anything, and he wanted her to feel the same. He wanted her to talk about anything and everything she wanted. Lord knows he’d take an interest in it.

However the interest he has in this conversation isn’t quite like normal. His curiosity is less genuine. It feels like it’s lurching around in his mind, something disappointed yet irritable growing in it’s place. He hates the feeling. He hates feeling that way towards her. Even if it wasn’t directed at her specifically.

“You’re right,” There’s more determination in her voice now. “I should just text him, right?”

No, Yuuta’s jaw is clenched again, teeth grinding loudly. He hopes she can’t hear it through the phone. No, don’t let some stranger have your number. He doesn’t deserve it like I do.

“Right!” His voice is louder than he means to, as if trying to overpower the jealous train of thought that runs through his mind.

He’s sitting upright on the bed in a second, still rigid and uncomfortable, but his anxiety makes him want to pace. He needs to work off the awkward feeling in his chest somehow.

“Then I can see what he’s like,” (y/n) speaks as though she’s really telling herself what made the most sense. Yuuta’s nodding wordlessly, his eyes fixated on a spot on the floor that’s growing more blurry by the second. “And then if I like him… maybe we can go out or something” She mumbles the last part, clearly distracted.

He wonders if she’s texting him now. The idea of her reaching out to this random guy while she’s on the phone with him sends his heart plummeting to his already upset stomach.

Where were all of these nasty feelings coming from?

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea” Yuuta’s speaking, but it feels distant, he’s not exactly sure of what he’s saying.

“Alright. I’ll text him later, then,”

He’s relieved that she wasn’t doing it this very moment, but there was still an unsettling pit in his stomach knowing she was bound to reach out at some point.

“Thanks, Yuuta. So, what’s been going on with you?”

It takes a while of chatting and pacing the room before Yuuta feels like himself again. He’s lucky there wasn’t a circle burned in the shape of his track in the tightly coiled carpeting of his room, certainly he would’ve had to call Gojo for a favor if he was billed for such damage.

Eventually the nasty feeling in his chest settles and he’s sitting in the bed again, the notebook he was drafting up today’s report on propped on his legs and his phone at his side, (y/n’s) voice on speaker as she tells him about the rest of her and Maki’s outing in the shopping district.

As it always does, time goes by too quickly, and soon enough she’s yawning through the speaker and telling him it was getting too late for her.

“But thanks for calling, Yuuta. I was starting to think you didn’t know phones worked both ways” She teases softly.

Had she been waiting for him to call?

“Yeah, anytime. I just… you know the time difference… I don’t ever want to bother you”

“You? Bother me?” She giggles. “After you let me talk your ear off about a boy, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here,” She tells him.

The nasty feeling swells again.

“Besides, you could never bother me,” She adds, her tone much softer. Almost sweet. Yuuta can’t tell if his stomach is convulsing or doing flips. “But call again sometime, m’kay?”

“Okay,” He says, hopeful, and just as eager as he felt. “G’night, (y/n)”

“Bye Yuuta, goodnight!”

His phone lights up with the low battery icon once the call is over. He’s slow to plug the charger into it and leave it on his nightstand for the evening, his mind still mulling over everything she’d told him. Or more so, how he’d felt taking in all that information.

He couldn’t have possibly been jealous, right? Not over some random guy. Not because of her. They were friends, after all. Friends that didn’t even get that close until after he left. In his time at Jujutsu Tech he’d only spoken to her a handful of times, and mostly in passing. It wouldn’t feel right to have something like jealousy spark up now. No, he was probably just worried for her, seeing as he couldn’t look out for her when he’s thousands of miles away. Yeah, that was it.

It couldn’t have anything to do with the way he felt his world light up when she laughed. Or that getting a text message from her in the sound effect that he’d picked out just for her contact had serotonin spiking in his brain.

None of those things were connected at all.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The fourth time they talk on the phone, unfortunately, he has to hear about this guy again.

Yuuta’s not even sure he knows his name. He thinks (y/n) must’ve mentioned it once or twice in their texts, but it’s never quite stuck, and honestly, Yuuta doesn’t want to ask.

Not that he cares- it wasn’t like that at all. It had simply been too long for it to feel appropriate to ask. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t listen, is all.

He’d called one evening when yet again he felt like putting off writing up his report. It had almost become a habit to reach out to her as soon as he was stalling, or bored. He didn’t have much to talk about, he never really did, but he had been eager to tell her about some new cuisine he’d tried that he’d thought she might like.

There was a pesky thought in the back of his mind about her visiting him for a few days. Only pesky due to how often it presented itself, even when he should’ve been focused on more pressing matters. He knew it was bad when Miguel had taken notice and smacked him upside the head to get him to pay attention- on this earth, preferably, he’d said.

But he couldn’t help it. The idea of having her here, for a few days or a few weeks, had become his go-to daydream. He already knew everything he’d want to show her, the busy, colorful markets and the good food Yuuta hadn’t known existed until coming here. To how pretty the beaches were at sunset, especially when the little hermit crabs would wake up and wander around the shore, he thinks she’d like that a lot.

Even just the idea of having her around to hang out with and chat about anything and nothing, just like how they do through their phones, had his chest buzzing with warmth and excitement. Even though it was all in his head and logic told him she probably couldn’t make such a trip. She had her own assignments and lessons after all, and technically he was supposed to be working.

Nonetheless, when he found himself getting bored, his mind drifted off to pretending she was there with him to keep him company. Sometimes it even did the trick.

Tonight when he calls her, he’s kicking around the idea of bringing it up. Maybe if she took it well enough he could reach out to Gojo about it, surely he had the social standing and the funds to let her visit. His heart is thrumming in his chest just thinking about it, every ring of the dial tone putting him further on the edge of his seat.

It rings a total of five times before she finally answers. It’s not all that late in Tokyo, just half past nine, but suddenly Yuuta worries that this wasn’t a good time to call.

“Hey,” He’s the first to speak, grinning from ear to ear when the line finally clicks and she’s answered the call. “Is this a bad time?”

“Uh, n-no,” She stutters back, voice quiet and a little raspier than usual. Had she been sleeping? She speaks before he can double check if it was an okay time to talk. “I’m not doing anything. What’s up?”

Yuuta can’t quite put his finger on it, but it certainly sounds like it’s a bad time. Her voice is lacking it’s usual mirth, and she sounds like she’s purposefully trying not to raise her voice. His smile begins to fall as his brain starts to stir with worry.

“Nothing, really. Just… wanted to talk, I guess,” It feels a little embarrassing to admit, but for once, she’s not teasing him. It’s strange, not hearing her softly poke fun at him when he’d clearly given her an opening to do so. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s almost ten here, I’m in bed”

The words almost come out cold, a bitterness to them that Yuuta wasn’t used to. If it weren’t for the crack in her voice, he might’ve thought she was upset with him. But there’s a noticeable little hitch in the middle of her words that tells him it’s not annoyance he’s picking up on.

“Hey,” His voice is quiet as he sits on his bed, brows furrowing as he feels the mood shift even in a room thousands of miles away from hers. “Is something wrong?”

“No” Comes her instant answer, but it’s not remotely believable. Her voice is so quiet and muffled it barely comes through the speaker, and shortly after he hears a shuffling that sounds like a heap of blankets being tossed around.

“C’mon, wanna talk about it?” He pressed again, dragging his finger over the crisp comforter on the bed to create misshapen invisible designs. “What happened, (y/n)?” He asks again, voice softer than before.

The tiniest of sniffles could be heard, and his heart sinks at the idea of her sitting alone in bed and crying. Whatever caused it he was sure he could find a way to solve it. It wasn’t often that Yuuta felt cocky with his Special Grade status, but in this moment he was sure he was the most powerful person in the world, and if something had bothered her this much, he’d certainly be able to take care of it.

“It’s- it’s stupid,” The high pitch in the cracking of her voice was more evident the louder she spoke. He’s worried she was going to leave it at that, maybe tell him to leave her alone or hang up altogether. Then he hears a wobbly inhale before she’s whimpering through her words again. “I’m so stupid, Yuuta, what was I thinking?”

His heart cracks with every word she speaks. He’s not sure what put her in such pain, but he swears, he’s experiencing it too just knowing she was hurting. He places his free hand over his chest to ease the hollow feeling that carves itself there.

“What d’ya mean? You’re not stupid, not remotely. C’mon, y’know that,” He tries to keep his voice light and gentle, even though the growing put in his stomach had his throat closing up. “What happened? Talk to me” He pleads softly.

(y/n) sniffles, before trying to even out her breathing again so she didn’t sound so pathetic when she talked.

“I don’t even want to tell you, it’s so stupid,” She admits. “B-but everyone else is busy, o-or gone and I- I don’t want to cry about it anymore,”

Had she been crying for a while? His heart seizes at the thought.

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” She mumbles. Yuuta nodded his head rapidly in response.

“Yeah, yeah of course I promise. I won’t laugh at you” He tells her with grave sincerity.

She sighs, breath still shaky, but she does her best to talk through it.

In a wobbly, quiet voice, she tells him everything. About how she had plans to meet up with convenience-store-guy that Yuuta still hadn’t caught the name of. How she’d taken plenty of time to plan out her outfit and put herself together, how in the meantime he’d been nothing short of flirtatious and sweet, leading her to believe he’d been eager to go out with her. She tells him how an hour before they were set to meet up a block away from campus, she’d stopped hearing from him altogether. She laughs humorlessly as she explains she’d sent nearly ten messages asking where he was or if he needed to reschedule before she’d dropped it completely and walked herself back home.

“No text, no call. Absolutely n-nothing,” She mutters bitterly. “But I don’t g-get it, did I do something wr-wrong?”

“Of course not,” Yuuta sighed, trying to release the tension of his building irritation so he could keep his focus on comforting her. “He’s just… he’s stupid, okay? I don’t know what his deal is, but you dodged a bullet, for sure. If that’s how he acts before a first date, imagine how terrible he would’ve been by the twentieth”

Surprisingly, he’s not terrible when it comes to consoling her. (y/n) hums tiredly in agreement. It doesn’t necessarily take the pain away, but there is some relief in knowing it never would have worked out.

“Yeah,” She breathes out. “But… I was excited, you know?” She mumbles. “I’ve never been on a real date before, at least I don’t think I have, but I think I’d know,” She explains. “I just… I thought I’d feel normal for a night. I- I thought he liked me. I kinda liked him, too. But mostly I…” She trails off, and they both remain silent for a few beats, each processing their own mess of thoughts. “I liked the idea of being liked, I guess. Is that selfish?”

“Of course not,” Yuuta chuckles warmly. “Everyone wants that. It’s completely normal,” He says. “Besides, it’s not like you were imagining things. He did have an interest. Who wouldn’t?”

The last part comes out before he can realize what he’s actually saying, and his face grows hot with the insinuation of his words. He’s stammering to fix it, which doesn’t help him much, but he tries.

“W-what I mean is that there will be plenty of other people who will meet you and fall for you completely and y-you’ll be swarmed with phone numbers and people who like you!”

He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but his nerves are starting to take over as the word vomit continues. (y/n’s) quiet as she listens intently, and the longer she doesn’t speak up to stop him, the worse his rambling becomes.

“You’ll have to fight ‘em all off, you know? There’s so many people out there who haven’t been lucky enough to meet you yet, and when they do you’ll get to experience everything you want. You know what?”

There’s a soft ‘what?’ from her end before he continues on his rant.

“It’s a good thing your first date wasn’t with that prick anyways. It wouldn’t have been fair. It wouldn’t have been right at all if your first date was boring or shitty or- or anything short of special and electric, okay?”

(y/n) still doesn’t say anything, but she’s hanging onto every word he says, even when they’re rushed and he’s stumbling over them, all of her focus is on what he’s saying.

“Because you deserve it. And anyone who is remotely worth your time will know that. And they’ll- they’ll text you too much before you finally go out, because they’ll be nervous because you make them nervous because you’ll be so out of their league, you know?” He doesn’t even pause before continuing. “And they’ll pick you up on time if not early because they’ll respect your time, and they’ll have flowers- the prettiest, most expensive bouquet they could find- right? A bouquet even Gojo couldn’t afford,”

She lets out a watery laugh that has Yuuta easing up in his rambling, a warm feeling planting in his chest in the hopes she’d smiled, even just a little bit, even if it was through her tears, he’d provoked just a little bit of joy from her.

“And… and if you’re anything short of completely swept away, then you’ll call Maki and she’ll come get you so you don’t have to spend another second wasting your time with a loser that doesn’t deserve you”

His chest is heaving a bit when he finally stops, not realizing he was losing his breath the longer he rambled on. His face feels hot as he processes everything he’d just dumped on her, and he prays that it wasn’t as pathetic as he’s worrying it was.

There’s a few small sniffles before (y/n) speaks up.

“Well, if you were back home, I’d just call you,” She says softly. Her voice doesn’t sound as strained as before, and Yuuta hopes it means she’d stopped crying. “You really think I’ll be able to find all that?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do,” He mumbles back, although his words hold absolute certainty. “Not a doubt in my mind”

She giggles, a real little laugh that he can almost see. It’s short and sweet and it has him elated that he’d lightened her mood. He’s not sure what exactly he did, but he’s grateful that the word vomit was beneficial for once.

“Thank you, Yuuta,” She murmurs. “You’re right, and, I actually feel a little better,”

His heart soars, and he’s smiling to himself again with pride and relief.

“I’m still going to watch Pride and Prejudice before bed, though. I’d already committed to it and I can’t just go to sleep now” She tells him seriously. Yuuta laughs, falling back on his bed as comfortably as he could with his feet still planted on the ground.

“I’ve never seen it,” He tells her. “But don’t stay up too-”

“Never?” She interrupts with a gasp of shock. “Yuuta, that’s criminal”

He chuckles again. “Is it really?”

“Yes, very much so,” She tells him. “When you’re back we have to watch it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure-”

“No, promise” She demanded for the second time that night.

“I promise,” He repeats, smiling to himself as his gaze wanders the ceiling.

He couldn’t help but think that if she were to visit him, they could spend a whole afternoon here in this room watching her movie, probably eating snacks and making a mess of the place as they got cozy for it. This room had always remained perfectly tidy, so much so it was almost boring. Having her in it would surely brighten it up and give it some life, he thinks.

“We’ll watch it as soon as I’m back” He tells her.

“Okay. Good. You were on thin ice for a second, you know” She murmurs sleepily. He can hear her yawning.

“Was I?” He muses. “Is that what it takes to get you to hang up on me?”

“Are you suggesting I wouldn’t?” She quips back, and he’s glad that her teasing nature has come around again.

“I’m suggesting you never have before” Yuuta shrugs. His fingers are pressed firmly against the back of his phone, keeping it close to his ear so he couldn’t miss the way she laughed at him.

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re just good company,” She hums. “But it is late and I want to watch this movie, so I guess there’s a first for everything”

His face is warm and he feels full, like he’d just eaten a good meal, despite him having skipped lunch in order to call her. Yuuta smiles lazily at the blank ceiling as he hums back to her.

“Alright, enjoy your movie,” He says. “But, uh, you can call me again. Y’know, if you… need to. Or want to”

There’s a pause before she responds.

“Okay,” It comes out in a hushed whisper. “Have a good rest of your day, Yuuta”

The time difference has his lips pinching into a frown, but he quickly tries to hold onto the last few seconds of joy he has while talking to her.

“Goodnight, (y/n)”

The call ends, and he drops his phone to the mattress, letting it sit forgotten beside his head. He stays put in his semi-comfortable position, still staring at the ceiling as his hands fall to his sides. His chest felt tight, and his mind a little dazed as he replayed the call over and over in his mind. The hurt he’d felt when she was hurting, the relief he’d felt when she was happy. It was overwhelming, the way his own emotions were thrown through the wringer depending on hers.

His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, Yuuta knew he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.

He was falling for her. Fast, and hard.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[yuuta]: [attachment]: one image [yuuta]: i think you’d like these little guys

[y/n]: :D a hermit crab!!! [y/n]: so cute! can’t believe ur holding it, i’d be scared of getting pinched

[yuuta]: i’m special grade, i’m not scared of anything :)

[y/n]: getting real comfy with throwing that title around, huh? you must think so low of me, a mere second grade. i could never amount to the *mighty* okkotsu yuuta.

[yuuta]: lol shut up it’s just a crab

[y/n]: he is super cute. his name is yuu now :)

[yuuta]: bcuz u miss me so much? :)

[y/n]: bcuz he’s small and feisty. that little claw looks ready to attack :>

[yuuta]: ok i’ll admit he did pinch me once. [yuuta]: but in his defense i did pick him up and i am a big scary human

[y/n]: lmfao [y/n]: i thought we just established ur small and feisty

[yuuta]: i don’t think i like being called small

[y/n]: tiny [y/n]: smol [y/n]: just a baby

[yuuta]: are we still talking abt the crab??

[y/n]: and maybe a little cute [y/n]: if we’re still talking about similarities :)

[yuuta]: cute???????

[y/n]: when u first came to jujutsu tech u were kinda like a hermit crab LMFAO [y/n]: i think if u had a shell u would’ve lived in it for WEEKS XD

[yuuta]: ._.

[y/n]: :)

[yuuta]: ur being a menace today [yuuta]: more than usual

[y/n]: it’s bcuz gojo’s lesson plan so far has been fighting the air :/ idk how he’s a teacher. i’m definitely not learning anything [y/n]: except that i might be able to take him in a fight without cursed energy

[yuuta]: my money is on u :) [yuuta]: but also i’ll be there with ice cream when u get ur ass kicked

[y/n]: <;/3[y/n]: that’s my broken heart[y/n]: you’ve broken my heart.

[yuuta]: lol [yuuta]: but there will be ice cream [yuuta]: <3

[y/n]: … [y/n]: ok i might forgive u

[yuuta]: is it bcuz i’m cute [yuuta]: :)) [yuuta]: ?? (y/n) ?? [yuuta]: :(( [yuuta]: don’t ghost me ik ur not paying attention in class

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The tenth phone call they have, (y/n’s) the one calling him.

It’s one in the morning his time, so he’s sound asleep on the mattress that still feels stiff after about three months of him sleeping on it. Every day he longs more and more to go back home to his cozy room and his friends and her.

When his ringtone blares, a pretty tune that’s suddenly the most obnoxious sound on the planet, he’s awake right away. Jolting from his slumber and reaching around blindly in search of the device. He nearly shoves everything on his bedside table right off, his arm swinging with too much force in his desperate attempt to pick up the phone.

Even once it’s in his hand, it takes him a second to steadily press the accept button, his vision blurry and sleep still threatening to take back over. It takes him a few tries before he’s answering the call and laying the phone on his pillow next to his head.

“Hello?” He rasps out.

“Yuuta!” (y/n’s) all too cheery for one in the morning, but he distantly remembers it’s the early evening in Tokyo. His eyes squeeze shut as he rubs at them tiredly. “Yuuta! How could you not tell me the good news!?”

She’s yelling, and even without his phone on speaker he hears her perfectly fine just having the device laying next to his head. It’s a shock to his ears, his mind buzzing as it tries to wake him up to deal with the noise. But he snuggles deeper into his pillow, rolling onto his side to press his face into the feathery plushness.

“-was gonna wait,” He mumbles sleepily. “Y’know, ‘til I was awake, ‘nd it was a normal time” His words are followed by a low chuckle. The pillow suddenly becomes the comfiest thing he’s ever touched, and even the stiff mattress becomes a little more inviting.

“Wait?” She repeats the word before gasping dramatically. “Okkotsu Yuuta, I had to hear you were coming back from Toge!”

He chuckles again at her antics. He’s still exhausted, but his chest feels warm hearing the excitement in her voice.

“Do you know how long it took him to tell me? Hm? He did charades, Yuuta. Charades!” The image has him laughing a little more, shoulders shaking just a little bit as he listens to her go on. “I’m terrible at charades by the way. The whole thing took, like, fifteen minutes. I was pissed he couldn’t just write it down”

“Toge’s jus’ like that” He mumbles.

“But you told him before me?”

Yuuta’s not sure if the offense in her tone is fake or not. To play it safe, he covers his tracks.

“No,” He sighs. “Gojo pr’lly told him. He only just told me before I went to bed”

“And you didn’t even text,” (y/n) huffs, but he can hear the laugh she’s trying to hold back. He smiles in relief knowing she was just sticking to her bit. “Well you better actually text me as soon as you’re back!” She says threateningly. “We have plans. You promised”

“How could I forget?” He hums, voice low and growing quieter as his body beckons him to fall back to sleep.

“Okay. Good,” She says definitively. “I guess I’ll let you go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you up”

He hums in amusement.

“Don’t be sorry for being so excited to see me you couldn’t contain it,” He teases quietly. (y/n’s) silent on the other end of the line. “And don’t be embarrassed, either” He adds.

“I’m not embarrassed!” She squeaks, making him chuckle some more. Maybe he was just deprived of his sleep, but she was extra cute when he was the one doing the teasing. “But I… I am excited to see you”

He smiles into his pillow, sighing contentedly into it.

“I know sweetheart,” He mumbles. “And ‘m excited to see you too”

She’s failing to stifle a giggle through the speaker.

“Okay okay, you’re clearly wiped. I’ll let you go,” She says. “Goodnight, Yuuta”

“Night, (y/n)”

He’s asleep before she even ends the call, drawn back into rest by the suddenly comfortable bedding and the sweet echo of her laughter playing in his mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

(y/n) had been adamant about having their movie night the same night he gets back to Tokyo. With the jet lag and the time difference keeping him awake against his wishes, she was sure that having a relaxed evening inside would be the best way to ease him back into being at home.

Yuuta, on the other hand, tried to make it clear that they didn’t have to rush into it. His flight would land at eleven in the evening, and he was sure he wouldn’t even be back to campus before midnight. While it might have felt like early afternoon to him, (y/n) would have already had a full day of lessons and training, and likely be exhausted by that time.

However she was stubborn. It didn’t matter how much he tried to persuade her otherwise, she remained certain that she would stay awake long enough to greet him and have a simple, fun night set up for them.

And who was he to fight too hard against it anyways? The idea of her going through the trouble and wanting to stay up so late just to see him gave him energy for the whole day. He was smiling through customs, bouncing his leg waiting to board, texting her as much as possible before he’d have to put his phone on airplane mode, and greeting every employee and flight attendant with so much delight it was infectious. He’d even gotten an extra package of goldfish for his delightful friendliness.

He’s as quick as can be picking up his checked luggage and rushing out of the airport. Anyone who saw might have thought he was late, but in actuality he was trying to be as early as possible. He’d practically crashed into Ijichi, almost racing past him, but just as quickly recognition flashed in his eyes and he gave the manager a bone crushing hug, forgetting his strength.

The man was alarmed by the affection, awkwardly patting the boy’s back before stepping out of the embrace and nervously laughing. He leads Yuuta out of the building and towards the sleek black car that’s waiting to take him home. Yuuta’s positively buzzing the whole ride. It’s obvious that Ijichi is tired, it’s almost the middle of the night after all, but he does find some amusement in Yuuta’s pure and unfiltered excitement.

However when the boy shouts for a pit stop at a local twenty-four hour grocery shop, the man almost drives the car right off the road, slamming on the brakes and pulling over roughly enough to wake him up completely. If Yuuta notices the harsh driving maneuvers, he doesn’t say anything. Simply grabbing his wallet and rushing inside the building. Ijichi swears all these kids pumped full of muscles and adrenaline would be the death of him.

Yuuta comes back with a full paper bag and a grin, thanking the manager as they continue the drive home without a hitch.

He shouldn’t have the energy he does when they arrive, but Ijichi watches in shock as Yuuta easily carries all of his bags and the delicate groceries and breaks into a full sprint for the dorms, hollering one last thank you as he does.

He’s unceremonious as he drops his things in his room. There is a certain comfort in being back in a space he can contently call his own, but the welcome home nap he was so eager to take in his own bed could wait. He leaves his things and is swept away by his own two feet as he hurries down the hall.

There’s the faintest of light peeking out under only one door, all the others tightly shut and seemingly dark inside. It was past midnight, and there were lessons first thing tomorrow morning. He’s hesitant for only a second as he reaches the door, but adrenaline takes over again and he’s knocking as quietly as he can.

He can barely hear someone inside, although he doesn’t make out any real words. Just to be safe, he knocks again.

“H’llo?” A tired voice calls back a little louder this time.

Yuuta’s hand is shaking when he reaches for the latch and slides the door open, just barely peeking inside.

He’d seen (y/n’s) room maybe once in passing, but he hadn’t taken a real glance, and definitely never stepped inside. Now, he takes it all in with his face lit up in pure astonishment.

It’s decorated with string lights, soft and twinkling slowly here and there. Just enough to give some ambience without it being overpowering. Her small television is flickering with the title screen of her adored movie. She’s curled up in a heap of blankets on the bed, and for a few seconds he thinks she’s asleep. But her head tiredly lifts to see who her visitor was, and like a switch, she’s full of energy.

“Yuuta!”

His name falls from her lips in soft awe, and she’s throwing her blankets back and sitting upright, shifting to get out of bed. Yuuta’s beaming back at her, stepping into the room and turning to slide the door shut behind him. The others would be quite annoyed if they were to be woken up at this hour.

She’s stumbling a bit towards him, her arms outstretched and her face in a lazy grin. It takes no time at all for her to cross the room and throw her arms around him to hug him tightly. Yuuta’s careful to hold his bag of goodies to the side so they don’t get crushed when he reciprocates the tight hug.

He hadn’t hugged her before he left for Africa. He hadn’t hugged anyone, actually. Just waved as he bid them goodbye. Hugging her now feels like something he’d waited for for ages, and finally getting to hold her against him has his heart soaring.

“You’re finally home,” She’s smiling into his chest, and pulls away only so she can grin up at him, properly taking in his pretty eyes and longer hair. She’s just about to comment on the change in style before she notices the bag in his hand, and focuses on it instead. “Did you bring gifts?” She asks with a playful smirk.

“Uh- yeah, I mean, sorta,” He stammers, his face getting warmer than he would’ve liked as he opens the bag and glances inside, suddenly apprehensive about handing them to her. “It’s not from Africa, but they are necessities,” He tells her.

(y/n) raises a brow curiously, before prompting him to show her what he brought.

Yuuta’s sheepish as he reaches in the bag and produces a family size package of lemon flavored oreos. It seemed like a great idea when he’d picked them up, but now he feels anxiety twisting in stomach as he presents them to her.

“Lemon oreos!” (y/n’s) nothing short of delighted as she takes the package from his hands, already peeling back the plastic to snatch one and take a bite right away. She hums as she finishes the cookie, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she seals the package again. “You remembered, thank you. We’ll definitely finish those tonight” She says with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I brought my own snack, they’re all yours” He says softly. She brightens even further at the prospect.

“You really know the way to a woman’s heart, Okkotsu” She teases.

After months of getting teased over the phone, he finally gets to witness it first hand. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes shift between his and other spots around the room bashfully. He wonders if she was always so shy when she’d teased him before.

His smile softens as he reaches into the bag again, carefully holding the other gift as he pulls it from the bag. (y/n’s) eyes widen and her lips part as she takes in the sight of the beautiful arrangement of flowers he was holding. It was simple, a pretty bouquet of lilies, lily of the valley, to be specific, she recognized them as the same white flowers scattered around the courtyard. Her eyes were locked on the bouquet as Yuuta picked around it a bit, making sure every flower was perfect and presentable.

“It’s not, uh, the most expensive bouquet in the world,” He mumbles anxiously once he deems the flowers pretty enough to hand to her.

She looks up at him as though silently asking if they were really for her, her surprise evident in the way she stared at him in soft surprise before she finally took the flowers. Her movements are slow and so, so careful, not wanting to bend a single stem out of place.

“But, still, um,” With his hands free Yuuta begins to fiddle, scratching at the nape of his neck as he struggles to meet her gaze. “Y’know, I just wanted to… give you flowers”

A smile breaks out across her face as she leans close to them to take in a whiff, soothed by the gentle, clean scent that fills her nose.

“I love them,” She murmurs, still staring in awe at the pretty arrangement. “Can I take a picture?” She asks, and he nods wordlessly. He finally takes in a breath of air when she turns around to grab her phone from the bed, not having realized he’d been holding it since handing her the intimate gift.

What he doesn’t realize is she’s bounding back over to him with her phone in hand, the camera flipped around so she can take a selfie of her flowers with him very much in it.

“C’mon, smile!” She giggles as she turns her phone sideways, eyeing the image of him with his blushing face and wide eyes, obviously caught off guard.

She snaps the photo when he throws up a peace sign and gives the most relaxed smile he can, his eyes closed and his cheeks undeniably pink. (y/n) admires it before tucking her phone back into her pocket and clutching the flowers close to her chest lovingly.

“Thank you so much,” She gives them one last affectionate glance before tucking them carefully into a jar on her desk- after she dumped all the pens in it onto her workspace without a second thought. Yuuta almost laughed at how quickly she made the mess and left it in order for the bouquet to have a safe home. Once she’s sure they’re safe and sound, she turns back to him again.

It’s funny how out of place he looks standing in her doorway. Long legs and broad shoulders taking up more space in her room than she would’ve thought. She’d almost forgotten how large Yuuta was. Somehow, it made it funnier that he looked so lost. Like he didn’t want to take a step, and didn’t know what to do with his hands. She could tell he was trying his best to come across as comfortable as he could, but she could see the wince behind his smile, and his slowly shifting feet.

He looks out of place now, but she likes having him here. She likes that he smells like sandalwood, and something sweet like vanilla. She likes that he’s still holding the paper bag that he’d brought her gift in, not wanting to drop it somewhere in her room like a piece of litter. She likes that when their eyes meet he smiles, and crinkles form on his eyes that compliment his blushing face.

She likes everything about Yuuta, but right now, she likes that he was the first boy to ever bring her flowers most of all.

So despite her racing heart, she decides to tell him so.

“I’m glad you were the first guy to ever give me flowers”

Yuuta’s smile drops slightly as his face softens with surprise, eyebrows raising higher when she steps even closer to him.

He’s holding his breath again when she leans onto the tips of her toes and pressing a quick kiss to his warm cheek. The feeling of her lips brushing over his skin only makes it heat up more, and against his will he lets out a little gasp for air. (y/n) giggles when she stands flat on her feet again, her nose slightly wrinkled at her amusement at how easily Yuuta flusters.

She’s starting to think to herself that she should test just how much she can fluster him while he’s here, when he’s suddenly the one taking her breath away.

He steps forward to close the distance between them again, dropping the paper bag so he can slide his hands under her jaw, tilting it upwards so he can lean down and kiss her with ease. A gasp dies in the back of her throat just as his lips touch hers, the hesitation from her surprise only momentary.

For a soft kiss, Yuuta radiates so much passion her knees feel weak, and her hands are firm as they press into his shoulders, desperate to keep herself upright. Even his hands are gentle, their touch warm and featherlight against her face.

She longs to press impossibly closer and explore his every last dip and crevice, but for right now, everything is perfect. His gentleness, his sweetness, him, she couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely first kiss.

Just as the kiss was, he pulls away slowly, forehead still touching hers. A short sigh escapes him before his lips turn into a smile. (y/n) watches as his mouth stretches and curls, her own face mirroring the expression, before her eyes flicker up to his to see he’s staring down at her.

“Sorry, I-” He shakes his head, trying to find just the right words to tell her how long he’d been thinking about doing that. His mind is too foggy so he runs his mouth with abandon. “I’ve just really wanted to do that” He murmurs.

(y/n) giggles, her face blooming with color at the blatant confession. It had her heart going haywire even more after the kiss, and any hopes of being the one to fluster him goes out the window. She’s putty in his hands and he must know it.

“Don’t be sorry,” She whispers back, shyly averting her gaze, not that it does her any favors, he’s still cradling her face and keeping her so close that it felt there was no shying away from him. “I… I was hoping to talk to you, um, when you got back,” She says, the grin on her face betraying her as she tried to casually mention her feelings for him. “About, y’know, hanging out more, ‘n stuff”

Yuuta chuckles at her bashful nonchalance, nodding his head back at her with an excited gleam in his eyes.

“I’d like to hang out more and stuff,” He hums, dropping his hands from her face and nodding to where she’d set up the movie hours earlier. “Should we start with watching your movie?”

Excitement flashes in her eyes as she nods her head back at him, before taking his hand and tugging him over to the comfort of her bed.

“Settle in, your mind is about to be blown by literary perfection and cinematic masterpiece. This is their love child”

He chuckles, falling into the mattress with her and getting settled against the mountain of pillows at her headboard while she searches her blankets for the remote. His chest is still vibrating with adrenaline, but as he sinks into a comfortable bed for the first time in months, he finds himself relaxing.

Despite his body feeling like it was the late afternoon, he feels as though he could go right to sleep.

It helps when (y/n) passes out first. Her body slumps against his and she snores softly against his chest. It’s such an amusing sight he can’t help but take a photo for her to wake up to in her messages. He pauses the movie so that they can pick it up from where they left off tomorrow, and then settles deeper into the cozy bed.

The comfort he felt with every text received from her, every phone call to keep him company in the last few months of being away and being alone, it seems almost personified now. Resting here beside her, simply sharing the same space, Yuuta feels the same wave of relief now. He can’t help but smile to himself as he settles under the covers, being careful to not disturb her peaceful slumber.

He’s asleep in a matter of minutes. The warmth of her body so close and the plush mattress working together to put his mind at such ease he didn’t even notice he was tired until he was closing his eyes and drifting off.

It was good to be home.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // i really do ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

a/n: gojo pays the international phone bills obviously so don't be commenting on it

1K notes · View notes

sonotpattismith · 15 days ago

Text

ruin it all over

pairing: tattoo artist!sukuna x ballerina!reader word count: 12.9k content: angst, insecurity, feelings of worthlessness, reader low-key crashing out, hurt w/comfort, loss of virginity, there's a happy ending here somewhere pls bear w/ me, smut, 18+ a/n: continuation of where I first saw you

Ryomen was a guarded guy. Sure— he was getting a little better at the small talk he once thought was so pointless, but it was only because you always seemed genuinely enthralled to hear about what kind of cereal he ate that morning or what song he was listening to on the car ride to work (even though you had no clue who the artists were that he would name, but you were keeping a running playlist). He tried, but it certainly didn’t come naturally to him.

No, because it was much more entertaining for him to listen to your sickeningly sweet voice ramble on and on about the exam you almost missed because you were trying to give a stray campus cat your leftover egg salad sandwich, or how you started keeping tins of actual cat food in your bag just in case even though the critters never seemed to appear when you were actually prepared for them.

The silent man would go about whatever he was doing— closing up the shop with you perched on the counter awaiting him, cleaning his car as you sat in the passenger seat pretending not to stare at the way the sweat clung to his bulging arms as he wiped down the dashboard, shaving his face as your voice fluttered through his phone on the sink— he was taking in every word with as little as an occasional grunt that proved he was still listening.

His favorite part though, was nearing the end of your drawn out stories, when your words would start to trail, and your face would begin to flush because you realized— god, you really have been talking for a long time. Whenever he’d notice those little queues, he’d always look up just in time to watch as you buried your burning face into your hands, muttering out an apology about talking his ear off, and he would smile, because something about that gentle timidness contrasted so deliciously with his brash and jagged edges. It lit a fire in his chest each time, one that had him reminding himself to reel it back in before he scared you one of these days.

So, he’d bite down the urge to pounce and opt to flick at your forehead, tutting softly as he urged you to not leave me in fuckin’ suspense as soon as you’d peek up at him through your fingers.

His crass mouth was another aspect of him that didn’t seem to phase you as much as he thought it would. In your eyes, he could curse like a sailor and scowl all he wanted, because none of it ever took away from the way his typically rough hands handled you with the delicacy of fine china, and how he always seemed to remember the little bits of you you’d shared when you were sure he hadn’t been listening. It also didn’t hurt to have someone without any hair on his tongue around when the cafe got your order wrong, and you were too scared to say anything.

So, maybe you weren’t sure exactly how to label whatever it was that had been going on between you two for the past couple weeks, but you knew you were actually excited for something other than your frequent dance practices for the first time in months. Shrugging on a sweater and a pair of sweatpants over your leotard and tights, you scooped up your bag before tossing a rushed goodbye out to your teammates and bursting through the doors.

Your feet still ached from the extensive time spent awkwardly constricted in your pointe shoes, but Sukuna had texted you just before practice asking (demanding) to meet him at the shop afterward since his last appointment was ending early. He’d offered to come pick you up, but the last thing you wanted to do was become a burden on him after he’d been working all day. So, you trudged through the dull pain and walked as fast as your throbbing feet would take you through the campus.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you busied yourself with checking the train schedule as the breeze messied your once neat bun. Glancing up after you narrowly avoided getting knocked into one too many times, you had to do a double take when you saw the familiar mop of pink hair in the distance. Biting down your tickled smile, you shook your head at his stubbornness. You picked up your pace a bit, but slowed down just as you were a few feet away from him. It had become a self-appointed challenge, your constant attempts to scare him as it seemed nothing swayed this man.

With an unnecessary burst of adrenaline, you made a running start before pouncing on his hoodie-covered arm with an exaggerated shout, an eccastic grin lighting up your face at the sound of his abrupt yelp.

“Hah! So much for— oh my god!” It was now your turn to yelp, because the startled face looking down at you was free of all the intricate tattoos that you’d grown so fond of, and the bicep in your grasp was most definitely a few inches smaller in circumference than you remember. Perhaps you should have known, because the hoodie you were clinging onto was a baby pink color, and you were positive you’d never seen that man in anything other than black.“I-I’m so sorry, I thought—” Your mortified apology died on your throat, because now that the jolt of fear had somewhat subsided, you noted that this was a damn near spitting image of Ryomen. “Oh my god!”

Stumbling back with a start, your foot twisted awkwardly on the rocky pavement below you, nearly sending your ass tumbling to the ground when the black haired man in front of him, whose eyes had since been shooting daggers into your skull, jolted forward to steady you. Stammered apologies continued spilling from your lips as you crouched against the sudden pain in your foot that had already seen better days before your tumble.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just that you look exactly like—”

“Ohhh,” The doppelganger cut you off, an amused smile of recognition finally lighting up his once startled expression. It wasn’t long after though that his face quickly scrunched up in disbelief once again as he took in the way you starkly contrasted his gruffer counterpart. “Wait, you’re the one seeing my brother?”

You blinked once, then twice, mouth hung open as the puzzle pieces began clicking together. Ryomen had mentioned that he and Choso have another brother, but he left out the arguably major details that for one, you two attended the same university, and two, that they were—

“Twins?”

Sukuna had already wrapped up his last appointment by the time you waltzed through the doors of the parlor, your eyes narrowed at the back of his head as he cleaned his station absentmindedly. Pausing your hunt to offer a warm smile to Choso as he greeted you, you quickly locked back in. It didn’t seem too busy in the shop today, only one other customer in the back getting the finishing touches of their ink.

Taking advantage of his lack of attention, you quietly made your way over and took a seat in his tattoo chair, holding back a groan of relief at the weight being taken off your twisted ankle. As he turned back around, it didn’t surprise you that he didn’t jump in the slightest at your sudden appearance. Hiding the tiny smile tugging at his lips with a short scoff, he reached up to flick at your forehead before swooping in with an urging hand on your jaw to press a kiss to your temple, your cheeks mushing together under his grip.

“There you are, geez. What took you so damn long— got lost?”

“No, funny story actually,” You began, watching with a tilted head as he began putting his supplies away. “I ran into this guy that looked just like you. Pink hair and everything!”

This made his movements falter for a fraction of a second, and you could practically see the realization don on his face that he’d forgotten to tell you something. Playing it off as he always did though, he only hummed in response. Narrowing your eyes again, you finally thought of the one thing that might actually startle him for once.

“Yeah, it was pretty embarrassing. I accidentally kissed him and—”

“You kissed my brother?” His baffled shout echoed through the shop, the bottle in his hand clattering to the ground abruptly.

“You kissed one of his brothers and it wasn’t me?” Choso shouted incredulously from the front, face morphed in bitter betrayal. “Yuji doesn’t even like girls!”

Sukuna felt his eye twitch, and he wasn’t sure which one of his siblings’ necks to wring out first. Deciding that Choso was closest and therefore easier game, he quickly pivoted on his heels to make a beeline for his target before you squeaked at the predicament you’d caused, snatching him back by his wrist with poorly disguised laughter.

“Wait! Wait! I surrender, I was kidding— spare him!”

The pure mass of him had you tumbling from the chair, clinging onto him desperately to give his half-brother a running start to lock himself in the bathroom. A pained yelp fell from your lips as you stumbled after him. This had him abruptly whipping his head around, staring down at the way you limped back over to the chair.

“The fuck happened to you?” He was kneeling down before you had the chance to answer, grasping at your calf as his other hand worked the fleece-lined boot from your foot. Leaning back on your hands, your scrunched face stared down at him as he carefully peeled your sock back to reveal the red skin that was paving the way for a gnarly bruise. Along with it though were the scars and blisters that your pointe shoes had graced you with over the years, and he tutted under his breath.

“Well, it kinda freaked me out when I saw Yuji.” You explained sheepishly, wincing as he ran a thumb over the warm skin. “And my feet were already killing me from practice, so I tripped up a little.”

“Can’t blame you— punk’s got an ugly fucking mug.”

Despite the searing ache in your feet, you couldn’t help the airy laugh that bubbled up your chest at his ridiculous claim. A smirk slid onto his lips at the sound. From your peripheral, you saw Choso poke his head out of the bathroom to check if the coast was clear, and you offered a subtle thumbs up, biting back an amused smile as he carefully slipped out to quietly take his place back at the front.

Sukuna ditched the plans he had to take you to lunch, opting to take you back to his place so you could get off your feet. You flushed initially at the idea, still never having stepped foot into his apartment since you two started… whatever this was that you two had started. Your unease was palpable as you sat stiffly on his couch, watching as he bustled around the kitchen after having told you to wait here.

He almost looked too large for the space he was residing in, the appliances in his kitchen appearing ridiculously small next to him. You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like in his pajamas, hovering menacingly over that stove as he cooked you breakfast after—

You quickly cleared your throat, cheeks burning as you tore your gaze from him in search of anything that might distract you from your impure thoughts. With a wandering gaze, you landed on the picture frame sitting idly on his side table. Sukuna had his middle finger positioned at the camera, partially blocking his face as his other arm was slung around the neck of the boy that had startled you so badly just hours prior, his brother's finger hooked into his already beaming smile to pull at his lip. You smile softly at the picture, being able to detect the subtle softness in the brooding man’s eyes even with all the layers of stone he always seemed put up before him.

“Alright, take them dogs out.” The man in question commanded as he trudged back into the living room with a bucket in tow. Your brows furrowed as he set it down on the floor in front of you. As if you had already been taking too long to comply, he kneeled down with a disapproving tsk to snatch your socks off himself and roll up your sweatpants before lowering your aching feet into the water.

“Ah—” You hissed as the warm water enveloped your inflamed tendons and skin. A few short pants escaped you before morphing into a sigh of relief as you felt your feet throb as if thanking you for showing them mercy. Slumping back against the couch, your eyes shifted apprehensively between him and the bucket. “Um, Ryo, do you happen to have any—”

“Salt? I already put a shit ton in there.”

“Oh.” You blinked in surprise, watching as he finally stood from his knelt position to trek back to the kitchen and procure a water bottle from the fridge. Finally sinking into the spot beside you, he passed over the bottle. “How’d you know to put it in there?”

A small, questioning hum left him, and you tilted your head down to the bucket.

“Punk’s been running track for years.” He explained as he slung an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his side. “If you think your toes are fucked up, you should see what I’ve had to soak off that bastard’s feet— shit’s not natural.”

A laugh attempted to leave you, but it came out closer to a groan than anything else, your head falling back against the cushion in agony over the state of your feet. Shifting your head to the side to look up at him, you found that he was already looking down at you. The intensity in his eyes seemed to suck you in, opening the smallest window to the inner thoughts that he seemed so protective of.

You found yourself flushing at the way it never wavered, unabashedly trained on you as though he could possess you by will alone if only he tried just hard enough. His fingers caught your jaw as you tried to escape it in hopes of calming your racing heart, ruby eyes dragging down your face until they fell upon the lips that were smushed between his fingers.

“You didn’t really kiss my brother, did you, doll?” He tested, his hot breath creating a mind-numbing humidity over your gently parted lips. The faintest of whimpers escaped you, and you quickly shook your head in hopes that he’d put you out of your misery already and kiss you as you’d been waiting for all day. Your response made him smirk, his nose brushing against your as he seemed to inhale each shaky breath that left your mouth. “Good, cause I woulda’ hated if I had to scrub him off of ya’.”

Lord, if you’re up there, please spare me.

Your frantic inner prayer seemed to fall on deaf ears though, because Ryo was swiftly pulling you in for a nearly bruising kiss, barely giving you the time to relish it before releasing you all together. He always loved the look on your face— the tiniest of disappointed furrow in your brows paired with that glossed pout— it drove him to the brink of insanity each time.

Gluing your eyes to your lap for the sake of having anything else to concentrate on, your fingers dug into your thighs for a moment as you thought of something to say. Hearing the sloshing of the water bucket as you shifted uncertainly, you were reminded of why you were in this position in the first place.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a twin?” You finally broke the tense silence, the one during which his gaze not once left your delicate side profile. A dainty smile pulled at your lips when you glanced back up at him. “Probably would have saved me the embarrassment— his boyfriend looked like he was going to kill me on the spot.”

“Why— think you’d like the other one better?” It was so like him to brush off your questions with a jab and a matching smirk, though you had a feeling there was some truth hiding in the depths of this one.

“Is that what you thought?” You questioned, not matching his banter as you usually did. Instead, your voice was level, careful in how it broached this topic with him.“That I’d prefer your brother?”

The reaction he tried to disguise revealed itself within his fluttering blink, the way his smirk faltered for even just a millisecond before he scoffed. You caught it though— that rare sliver of vulnerability in his eyes just before he turned his head away from you under the guise of pushing his hair from his forehead.

“Bullshit,” He quipped, that guarded smirk back on his face faster than it had left. Reaching down to scoop up the towel he’d left beside the bucket, he placed it in his lap before abruptly pulling your feet out of the now luke-warm water to dry them. “Brat might be nicer than me, but he sure ass hell don’t got my hands, huh?”

Before you could even consider flushing at the implications of his words, said hands were kneading into the searing arch of your feet with more pressure than any of the myriad of foot rollers you’d come to know in all your years could ever manage. All thoughts of Yuji and his brother’s oddly stubborn defenses vanished from you as you fell back horizontally against the couch, a gutteral groan leaving you that Sukuna hadn’t even realized could come out of such a comparably small person.

“Geez, doll,” He whistled lowly through the pure mirth etched onto his face as he drifted his focus down to your heels, rolling his knuckles over them tantalizingly. “Not what I imagined when I thought of you all spread out and moaning on my couch, but I’ll take it.”

With a burning flush, you dug the back of your head into the cusion below you to shield yourself from his teasing gaze.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, covering your timid face behind your hands with a blissful sigh. “Just haven’t had much of a break lately.”

“Take it easy the next few days.” He grumbled as though he hated how his own concern sounded in his ears, fingers trailing up to gently massage into your calves. His neck nearly snapped with the abrupt turn it took at the sound of your quiet, incredulous laugh at his suggestion. “Did I say something fuckin’ funny?”

“No!” You squeaked, though the amusement still lingered in your tone as you peaked at him through your fingers. He only raised his brows at you in challenge. “That’s just… not possible right now. Swan Lake is only like a week away, remember?”

Of course he remembered— he had been reeling to see you perform again since that first night you took his breath away, though he’d never admit it. The air of nonchalance that waved from him when your ecstatic voice squealed through his phone weeks prior that you had been picked to portray Odette was carefully calculated. In truth though, he felt as though his chest might burst with a sense of pride he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before.

Sure, he hadn’t the slightest clue who the fuck this Odette character was, but he wasn’t at all surprised after a quick google search that you would have been the only choice fit for the lead role— though perhaps he was a little biased. The stoic man wasn’t upfront with his praises though, but you heard it loud and clear in his simple response of yeah, no shit you got picked, a hidden smile lingering in his otherwise gruff tone.

“Yeah? How you gonna play Odyssey with no fuckin’ toes left?” He quipped, purposefully mistaking the name just to hear that saccharine laughter of yours as he paused his massage to creep between your legs.

“It’s Odette, Ryo!” You giggled, pushing at his chest to no avail as he hovered over you to pepper wet kisses along your jaw. “And I can’t afford to slack off.”

“You’re taking a day offa’ practice.” He grumbled against your ear before snagging the soft lobe between his teeth. Your breathless pants tickled his neck, and the hands that had since been haphazardly shoving at his broad shoulders curled into the neckline of his shirt.

Those pretty, pink lips that took up so much space in his mind circled into the gentlest of oh’s as his hand wandered down your waist and grasped at your hip, pulling it up to press you against him.

“I-I can’t—”

Slipping that same hand down, he cupped at the warmth between your legs purposefully, sending your back arching up from the plush cushions.

“Hm?” He hummed tauntingly at your sudden loss for words, easing up the pressure on your center just enough to make you beg him for it. “You gonna stay home and rest those pretty little legs of yours tomorrow?”

The heat radiating from your cheeks warmed his lips as he traced them up your face and nipped at your pouted lips. You nodded deleriously, tangling your hands into his hair to pull him in to properly kiss you.

“I’ll take a break.” You barely got out against his curled up lips before he was consuming you once again.

His once idle hand eagerly snuck up to dive down the front of your sweatpants, and he tsked in aggravation at the barrier that was the leotard and tights you had yet to change out of. Pulling away from you with a wet smack, he instead focused his efforts on snaking down your body, pressing kisses against your clothed chest, across your ribs and down your stomach.

A faint rumble had him pausing his pursuit to glance up at you, that familiar glitter of amusement hidden in his ruby eyes. You quickly shook your head, mumbling that you were fine, and your eagerness had all but convinced him that you were, diving back down to slip his fingers into the waistband of your sweats. Your fingers danced up to tangle into his already mustled hair, lifting your hips ever so slightly so he could tug down your bottoms. They had only just barely grazed the swell of your ass before he heard it again— this time more vengeful than the last.

“Okay, put your fuckin’ shoes on, we’re getting you a burger.”

Much to your dismay, Ryo did convince you (stood over your shoulder until you texted your instructor that you were sick) to take the day off of practice the next day. In his defense, the foot that you had injured the day prior had begun to take on a faint purple hue along the bridge. Still, you couldn’t help but barely relax the entire day as you were meant to be doing— too caught up in the fear that the mere day you were taking would set you back tremendously.

Truthfully, while you were completely over the moon to have been given such a coveted role, one you’d dreamt of since you were little no less, the years of buildup had paved the way for a blackhole of self doubt. Not only were you given the opportunity to perform your dream role, but you knew for a fact there would be recruiters for at least three professional dance companies in attendance for the show. Additionally and nearly as nerve-wrecking, Ryo would be there, and it would be the first performance he would see following that first night you two had spent together.

With how matter of factly he always spoke of your dancing abilities, you couldn’t bear the humiliation of messing up under his watch. Aside from him, your identity as a dancer was all you had since moving here. Without it, you weren’t sure there was anything left to you at all. There was a gnawing fear sprouting roots in each of your bones that told you that Ryo wouldn’t find much else either. Perhaps it was unfair, unhealthy to be putting such pressure on yourself, but you’d much rather drown in your contradictions than bear the weight of swimming up to the surface to confront them.

Maybe it was the fact that you had worried yourself into the early hours of the morning when you should have been sleeping to prepare for the hours of practice that would be awaiting you when you woke. Even more likely was the fact that it was the barely healed, blackening bruise lingering maliciously on your foot that assured that you just wouldn’t for the life of you land any of your grand jetés, your aching tendon simply dipping too far under the leaden weight of your drops. Your partner, who would be fulfilling the role of Prince Siegfried alongside you, really did try to help, his hands tightening in a barely noticeable fashion around your waist each time you came down from your leaps in hopes of easing your landing so that you may execute it with more grace— but not even his mercy seemed to save you. Whatever you could inevitably point the blame at though caused you instructor to finally snap about four hours into practice that day.

It took barely a sharp glare, a hushed critique, but it sliced through you like a knife. Over the years, you had of course learned to take and constructively use the feedback given by your instructors, though the weight of your role’s importance to the success of the show perhaps made her words cutting and her eyes despondent toward your previously blossoming potential. You could even feel your partner’s typically playfully smug expression boring into the side of your head with barely concealed sympathy, but not even Satoru’s usually life saving swoop-ins could pull you out of the hole you were throwing yourself down.

You could hardly think of a thing else when you left that evening, sun already prepared to retreat soon for the night. The score played resoundingly in your headphones speakers that sat snuggly against your ears, aiding in your wide-eyed, mental rundown of each number on your trek back to your dorm, every muscle in your body seemingly screaming with every dragged step.

Nothing would allow you to let up on yourself, it seemed. You stared blankly into your fridge for nearly ten minutes following your scalding shower before deciding your mind was far too preoccupied to conjure up any sort of appetite. And so you didn’t rest when you got home that day. With the increasingly taunting melodies of Tchaikovsky's compositions filling the already tense air of your dorm, you continued your trembling fouettés and pirouettes until each of your steps wavered and it became glaringly difficult to lift yourself from your rocky landings.

There was barely a glimmer of sunlight left shining from your window, and you weren’t sure how long you’d been furiously torturing yourself for, each falter or misstep being met with blindly frenzied repetitions. A sharp rap on your door seemed to shake your resolve, almost drowned out by the volume of your music that had been steadily ticking up and up and up until the fact that you hadn’t received a noise complaint had to have been chalked up to a heavenly intervention.

It startled you in the midst of your leap, reducing whatever semblance of grace you had prepared for your landing into a thudding heap on the floor. Your knee’s resounding smack against the wood floor along with your frustrated cry was only followed by a harsher pound at your door, and you were sure you saw the door frame rattle even if just by a hair.

“I’m coming!” You tried to sound as though you weren't ready to open your window and scream your miseries out to the world, though you weren’t sure how well it translated. A shuddering breath shook your frame as you rose from the floor to make your way to the door one wincing step at a time. You had barely the chance to crack the door before it was being pushed open, and the spine-chilling scowl on the face of the man who invited himself in would have had you calling campus security in any other situation. “Ryo?”

“What the hell happened to you? I haven’t heard from you since this morning. Ain’t been answering any of my—” His exasperated interrogation died in his throat as he took in the state of your dorm— namely the main floor, where your modest couch had been pushed haphazardly against the far corner of the room, with your rug rolled up and slouched against the wall. The body mirror that typically hung on your bathroom door was ripped from its place and leaned against the wall to face the makeshift practice space.

You watched with a waxing humiliation as his expression morphed into a startled disquietude he did little to mask. With a flickering gaze, the cool air of your space whipped against your burning cheeks as you shook your head, placing your hands desolately onto his shoulders in an attempt to push him back toward the door.

“You should go, I—”

“Like hell I should go, what the fuck is going on?” Sukuna’s venomous tone contrasted the desperately gentle manner at which he reached out to grasp at your cheeks. In his frenzied inspection of you, he noted how your flushed face and damp skin paired painstakingly with the droop of your exhausted eyes. “Have you stopped at all today?”

“I—” Your weak stammer pitched until you could no longer hear it falling from your lips. The fat of your cheeks squished against his palms as you slumped defeatedly into his grasp, a traitorous tear slipping down your burning eyes. You tried to cast your gaze downward in search of any solace against the way you were breaking down so pathetically before him, but his insistent fingers prevented you from doing anything of the sort.

His incredulous eyes widened as one tear turned into several, until no dam could possibly stop your abrupt onslaught onto the tightening grasp of his hands. And god, how he felt he was the worst person to have stumbled upon such a scene, because Sukuna had never in his life been sure what to do with tears. In all his years, he’d solved matters with his sharp tongue and barreling fists— though he’d never quite mastered the intricacies of handling anything with fragility or care.

So, as comforting as he thought he could manage, he stiffly pulled your head against his chest, sighing in modest relief when you buried your nose in further. The motion gave him hope that just maybe whatever foreign moves he was making didn’t come off as horribly stiff and unnatural as they felt to him.

“I kept messing up my choreography today, a-and I just— I can’t—” The choked sobs were rendering your frenzied explanation nearly incomprehensible as you began heaving out your breaths. Your shoulders were jostling with the sudden expended efforts of your erratic breathing, and he decided that perhaps a hug wasn’t going to cut it, because your skin was clammy and you were choking on your breaths and he was sure you’d pass out any second now.

“Nah, c’mon, get it together f’me.” Ryo muttered with a crippling effort to not raise his voice and make the situation worse. With a firm hand on your nape, he began urging you toward the hall where he nearly tore your bathroom door off the hinges opening it. Twisting on the faucet of your ivory sink, his hand pushed you down until your frazzled face was a mere inches from the now running water. Cupping his hand under the stream, he ran the starkly cool water down your feverish face. You gasped softly at the way it seemed to shock your already strung-out nervous system. “Breathe, dammit.”

But the much needed air was already crashing against your withering lungs like waves against an unsuspecting shore as his hand continued splashing at your face.

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry.” You finally rasped out, feeling as though you were at last breaking through the surface tension that had been trapping you in your haze. The grip on your nape slowly loosened in tandem with your leveling breaths, and you leaned against the counter for support.

Sukuna switched the faucet off before turning you to face him once again. There were stray droplets of water still rolling down your face and dripping into the divets of your collarbones, and he swiped at your dribbling jaw as he waited for you to collect yourself. It was silent as his intense gaze burned holes into your forehead, and it pushed the few stray tears lingering in your waterline out.

“She told me that I—” You cut yourself off, face scrunching up in embarrassment, but he gently jostled you to urge your continuing. “That I-I’m not taking this seriously.”

“Fuck that—”

“No, she’s right, Ryo.” Your sudden insistence caught him off guard, his eyes searching yours incredulously because he couldn’t think of one person who could’ve grasped at their goals as tightly as you had between your delicate fingers. “I skipped practice yesterday, and I haven’t been putting in as much time as I can— I’m gonna mess everything up.”

“Hey, no that’s bullshit, you hear me?” His fingers squished at your cheeks in order to urge your wet gaze onto his grave eyes. “You ain’t a damn machine— how the hell do you expect to put in a hundred percent when you’re grinding yourself stupid? Huh?”

You didn’t answer him, instead opting to squeeze your eyes shut, chewing on your bottom lip.

“You need a break. You need to fucking relax, alright?”

“I can’t— I don’t know how.” You admitted meekly as your own trembling hands came up to grip desperately at his wrists. The scent of his cologne helped marginally to ground you as he leaned down to press ardent kisses against your temple and forehead. “I feel like I’m possessed or something. I can’t sit still, I can’t—”

“You gotta try for me, baby.” The way his gruff voice reverberated in his chest had you pulling yourself closer to him, desperate to drown in the intoxicating distraction that had been laid before you. Because Ryomen— he smelled like a forest, his hands were so sure in their pursuit of you, his voice flowing like the most expensive of wines, and he had never called you that before, and you thought there was nowhere you’d rather plummet into insanity than his fortifying embrace.

“Can you…” Your soft whisper drifted in apprehension, a deep scarlet painting your still drying cheeks. He hummed in question, already terrifyingly resolute in his decision that he’d burn cities down to complete whatever request it was that would fall from your lips if it meant that painstaking little crease of worry between your brows would leave you alone. “Can you help me? You know… r-relax?”

And oh how his chest filled with pride, because the tears and the speeches were lost on him but this? This he could do, he determined as he sank to his knees before you. He’d felt utterly hopeless at the hands of your tender nature and gentle touches, because he knew that anyone else would be able to reciprocate them to you far better than he could ever hope to, though he knew one thing for certain as he tugged your bottoms down, chin propped on your navel to look up at you in that sweltering manner he was so good at— there was no one alive or dead that would be able to take care of you like he intended to.

Your hands found purchase on the counter behind you in desperate pursuit of support as he nudged your legs further apart and buried his head between them. His tongue was warm as it lapped mercilessly at your center, urging hands gripping at the back of your thigh to wrangle one of your legs over his shoulder. He moaned against you as you arched into him, his grip around your thigh tightening as if to encourage your movements, and you found yourself crying out along with him. Your chords meshed together and danced harmoniously off the thin walls of your dingy, dorm bathroom.

The mystery raced through your mind of what planet this man had come from, as he was managing to pull at threads you hadn’t known existed in you with each skilled thrust of his tongue. Your balance wavered on the leg that remained standing, trembling on its tiptoes as it attempted desperately to keep up with him to no avail. Just as you slipped forward, Sukuna’s bicep was hooking under the wavering limb before hoisting himself up along with you.

Your back fell against the mirror once he dropped you onto the counter, and his fingers were soon replacing his tongue just as all your crippling thoughts of self doubt were soon replaced by him. Him as he lurched forward over the sink to capture your lips, allowing you to taste yourself lingering on his tongue before leaning back to watch the way you began to desperately grind yourself against his fingers.

“What are you thinking about right now?” He all but growled out as his fingers found a blistering rhythm within you, the continuous, wet smacks of his palm against your heat making it difficult for you to think of anything at all though. So, you only whined out in response, your feet craning up to gain any kind of leverage on the counter’s edge. At once, his free hand was grasping at your nape to angle your gaze to look up at him, his incandescent eyes demanding to be met. “I asked you a question.”

“You!” You gasped out, the searing pleasure making way for the tears that gathered in the corner of your eyes. He smiled wolfishly at your response, and you moaned softly at the sight. “Just you, I’m thinking about you, Ryo.”

“Yeah?” Sukuna muttered smugly, grasping at your leg as it continued to slip against the counter in search of support.

His heated touch ran down your calf teasingly until it curled around your ankle that was still partially covered by the ties of your pointe shoes. Ever so slowly, as if testing the spellbinding flexibility that had had the perverse wheels turning in his head since he first witnessed it on stage all those weeks ago, he inched your leg up and up and up until the bridge of your foot brushed against the mirror only a mere inches away from your rapturous face. For once, the wind felt as though it had been knocked from his lungs at the sight, but he worked to quickly compose himself lest you bear witness to the slip in his resolve.

So, he instead leaned in closer to you, the back of your thigh now flush against his chest as his hand kept your leg pinned up. A shuddering moan slipped from you at the feeling of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“And what am I doing in those thoughts of yours, doll?” The whisper sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but turn your face away from him bashfully. Tutting softly in mocking disapproval, he nudged your face forward once again with a push of his nose against your chin. “Hm? Speak up now, I can’t hear you.”

But your climax was nearing closer and closer, evident in the way your warmth squeezed around his relentless fingers and your breaths grew choppy. Perhaps that was the only reason you had the nerve to actually answer him.

“Y-You’re— ah!” A sharp gasp shook you as he angled his palm to brush against your clit with each stroke, but he quickly ground out for you to keep talking. “You’re making love to me, Ryo.”

Your high came crashing down onto you just as your words seemed to shatter his mind, his mouth falling open in tandem with your pitched cries as you peaked. His brows drew fiercely together, his teeth gritting together as he worked you through the waves of your release, and he no longer cared if you saw the way his thusfar fierce front had fallen, because Ryomen couldn’t possibly want anything more in that moment than for you to allow him to bring your lust-clouded thoughts to fruition as he leaned forward to swallow your moans.

“Can’t talk like that, doll.” He groaned despondently against your lips, foreheads brushing together while your lower half jolted against him.

“Why?” In your delirium, you could have cried at his disapproval.

“Cause I might just fucking do it, that’s why.”

It fell silent in the already small bathroom that seemed all the more cramped with Sukuna’s Herculean figure occupying the majority of it. Your soft pants puffed against his mouth, eyes fluttering out a stray tear as you reached up to grasp at his nape. The sensation of your nails dragging down the blunt hairs of his undercut made his fingers curl deeper around your ankle, scrambling for any semblance of restraint. It would never come though, because you had the gall to pout against his parted lips, your grip like a vice on his neck as you whispered to him.

“Please, Ryo.”

He certainly didn’t feel as though he deserved such a privilege, but it was also far from him to make you beg for a part of him that was already wholeheartedly yours. So, his grip fell from your leg in favor of scooping you up by your thighs, your dripping core soaking against his shirt as he moved through your dorm like a man possessed, kicking at your bedroom door impatiently.

You barely had the chance to recover from the abrupt manner in which you bounced back against your mattress before he was wrangling your sweater from over your head. Sighing wantonly at the sight of his tattoo marked proudly against your heaving sternum, he leaned down to sink his teeth into it. Any semblance of rationality seemed so far from you as your jaw hung open, and you blindly reached down to tug at the back of his shirt until he disconnected from you to pull it off.

In a lust-filled haze, you reached out to trace the black ink that ran down his chest, making him hum appreciatively, his own hands capturing yours to hold them against him even if for just a moment longer. Slowly though, those sinful hands were drifting down your bare sides until his fingers dug into the swell of your hips to yank you down until your ass was just barely kissing the edge of the bed.

“These legs drive me fucking ballistic.” His sultry confession would have made you blush had you not already been spread open so vulnerably before him. Laden fingers dragged down your legs as he gathered them up to rest against his chest, turning his head to press salacious, open mouthed kisses along your calves. With a feather-light touch, he drifted up toward your ankle before tugging at the tie of your pointe shoes hungrily. That fervid, side-long glance he tossed your way as he worked the stiff shoes off you was nearly too intense to take head on, but there was a glint in his eyes that told you that you should know better than to look away.

The offending shoes fell against the floor with a soft thud. The keen gaze he kept on you should have sent you sprinting, akin to an apex predator scouting its next meal. As you assured yourself just moments prior though, you knew better. So, you stayed perfectly still, save your heaving breaths, as he dug a small, gold foiled packet from his wallet, holding it between his teeth before working his belt off and allowing his pants to pool at his feet.

There was the slightest hint of a pause as Ryo allowed the scene to settle in— to give you a chance to turn back at the very moment you’d left off on the last time your fates brushed this closely. That resistance never came though, and your ankles dug into his shoulders in anticipation. Your eyes fell on their own volition as he pushed his boxers down to join the rest of his clothes, and you thought you might swallow your own tongue in the midst of your shock.

His erection sprang from its cotton prison, ever so gently brushing against your core in its escape. You shuddered at the sensation, but for once your tremors rooted not in fear but instead in an aching anticipation. Much like the rest of him, as you had assumed, he was intimidatingly… above average— not that you had much by way of comparison. Gulping down the saliva that seemed to pool dramatically on your tongue, you took note of the black rings that circled his upper thighs, and you couldn’t help but let your lips curl up at the sight.

“What’re you smilin’ at, huh?” Ryomen teased through clenched teeth, the condom still hanging between his lips. An adoring smirk was splitting across his own face as he took the opportunity to pump leisurely as his leaking cock, using his free hand to smooth up your navel.

“You just… match everywhere.” Your timid giggle had his length twitching in his grip, his intense gaze softening just a bit. Abandoning his caress against your lower half, he reached up to tear open the foil between his teeth.

“What— don’t like ‘em?” His husky question was followed by the teasing plap of his heavy cockhead on your sensitive bud. The amused smile on your lips quickly fell into a sharp gasp at the sensation. Sukuna hummed as he rolled the condom over his aching length before guiding it through your folds.

“I love them.” Your sincere, breathless confession caught him off guard. “You look like… a piece of art, Ryo.”

For the first time since knowing him, you watched a genuine flush fall over his face at your words. Wide eyes were staring down at you as though he’d never received a compliment a day in his life, but, truthfully, he wasn’t sure anyone had ever bothered showing him such tenderness, always preferring to veer off his path lest they get caught in his crossfires. There was a barely noticeable tremble in his breath as he sighed out.

“Art, huh? Nah.” He murmured, pushing forward until his tip dipped into your straining entrance.

You cried out softly at the abrupt stretch, and he quickly hushed you with a soothing hand up your thigh. It felt so incredibly cathartic, enduring the dull pain at the hands of Ryomen. No matter how much you felt you might split in two as he gradually introduced each inch of himself into your honied heat, you would have done it all over again if it meant you’d be able to see that look on his face as he bottomed out. Eyes rolled back, fingers clutching at your thighs as they rested against his chest with a bruising grip, with a gaping mouth that curled up at the corners in a lingering, intoxicated smirk.

He fell forward until your knees pushed up against your breasts, moving one hand to fist the sheets beside your head to pace himself as he licked at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“This is art.” Sukuna corrected as he dipped down to capture each, pained whimper that fell past your lips until it was your moans would soon compete against his favorite of artists, because if he was art then you must be a masterpiece.

You slept with a serenity that rivaled a corpse that night, your dreams floating through clouds as your mind was utterly consumed by him. For the first time in weeks, something had rivaled the searing ache in your feet, and it was the dull reminder of Ryomen between your thighs— though you couldn’t possibly bring yourself to deem that particular pain unwelcomed as you stirred from your slumber.

The frigid air bit at your bare skin, sending a tremor through your shoulders. Cracking your eyes open, you were greeted by the sight of the man so many seemed to fear, his lips gently pouted as half his face molded against your pink pillow sheet. You wondered if it was his perpetually defensive nature that made him sleep on his stomach, the idea putting an amused grin on your tired features as you observed how his arms clutched onto the pillow under his head.

His legs were tangled into yours under the covers, giving you the vital information that he seemed to be putting out far more body heat than you could hope to at this hour. Shuffling closer to him, you carefully placed a hand under his arm in an attempt to lift it just enough to slip into his warm embrace for solace against the cold.

“What’re you doin’, brat?” His gravelly voice cut through the morning silence, catching you red handed without ever having opened his eyes.

Biting back the disappointment upon realizing that you weren’t nearly as stealthy as you thought, you smiled sheepishly despite his closed eyes.

“I’m cold.” You whispered softly.

“No one told you to get this thin ass blanket.” He grumbled, and you let out a quiet huff of disappointment before turning over and pulling the covers tighter over yourself. It only took a mere few seconds though to hear the rustling of sheets behind you, and you were soon being enveloped in a bear-like embrace nonetheless. His arm dipped under your head to cross over your chest, and you smiled against the warmth of his forearm. “What’re you smiling for? Too fuckin’ early.”

The fervent kisses he began pressing against your shoulder contradicted his grumpy rambling though, and he was soon nosing at your jaw for you to expose your neck to him. His teeth sank into the new area bared to him, and you arched against him just as his tongue began circling the attacked skin.

“Hmm,” He hummed in a deep baritone, his hand running up your thigh before dipping down to where you still ached of him. “Better cancel whatever fuckin’ plans you had today.”

Just as you nearly allowed yourself to succumb to him once more, his words sunk into your still barely functioning mind.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked, shooting up from his grip and nearly tumbling off the bed as you reached for your phone.

“Woah, woah, settle down. What the hell are you tweaking about?” Ryo groaned, rubbing at his now ringing ear as he propped himself up to watch you.

“I’m late! Oh my god, I’m so late.” You rambled through trembling breaths. It was like watching a tornado ripping through your tiny room, clothes flying as you wrangled on whatever was closest to you. He quickly sat up at your frenzied movements. “I’m supposed to be at practice!”

“Hey, take a fucking breather, you’re gonna pass out.”

“I can’t take a fucking breather, Ryomen!” His eyes widened at your uncharacteristic tone, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard such… unsavory language falling from your lips. Tears of frustration blurred your vision as you began shoving your abandoned pointe shoes haphazardly into your bag. “I keep messing everything up, I’m such a—”

“Nothing’s messed up—”

“Everything’s messed up!” You cried, grunting in frustration as you shoved your aching feet into your boots. “My foot is still messed up, my routine is messed up, my instructor thinks I’m a joke, and I’m about to screw everything up because I keep letting myself get distracted, and I—”

“Distracted?” Sukuna scoffed, pulling on his boxers as he stood up to follow you out of your bedroom. “Is that what I was fucking doing last night? Distracting you?”

“I don’t have time for this right now, Ryo.”

“Well you better find some fucking time before you mess this up too.” He regretted them as soon as the words left his mouth, but his entire nervous system had switched onto the defense at your ruthless undermining of what had transpired between you two last night.

The wounded expression on your delicate face told him he should drop to his knees to beg your forgiveness, but the wounded pride of the rejected child in him refused to submit so easily. So, he simply stared back at you with that callous expression you hadn’t ever seen him dare direct your way. Wiping furiously at your traitorous tears, you slung your bag over your shoulder and left, slamming the front door behind you.

That door had shut in his face five days ago, and you had yet to hear from him since. In hindsight, you knew that what you said was out of line, and it was clear that you had hurt him in a way that he would refuse to outwardly display. Sukuna would always bare his teeth before showing his belly— you knew that whole heartedly even after knowing him a mere few months. Still, his words stung, and you were too afraid of how the things he’d left unsaid might feel if you should reach out to him first in the midst of his anger.

You tried to use his absence to your advantage, throwing yourself wholeheartedly into your now daily practices that went hours on end. Your grief, anger, and betrayal fueled each twist and turn, each leap you aimed to perfect until you could convince yourself it was worth what you had damaged in the name of your passion. Even when you finally received that pathetically anticipated approval from your instructor, it no longer felt as sweet.

There was hardly time for you to wallow over Roy’s radio silence though, because Swan Lake was in a day, and you weren’t even sure that he’d still show up. The thought clutched at your chest, but you were quick to dismiss Satoru when he’d whispered his concerns into your ear during your final dress rehearsal. It felt as though you were back in that desperate solitude that had inadvertently veered you on his path in the first place.

Sukuna had been pretending that it wasn’t eating him alive that you had yet to crack first, but he sure as hell wouldn’t do it. Everyone around him could tell though. He was quiet— even more so than usual, and the fuse that they were sure couldn’t get any shorter was blowing easier than ever. Choso was met with a biting snap when he dared to ask why he hadn’t seen you around lately, so he figured you must have something to do with it, and he’d be damned if he sat back and simply watched his brother fuck this up.

“Hey,” Despite his determination, his tone was still careful as he approached the pink-haired man who was still hunched over his client, brows furrowed as he concentrated on the cat he was coloring in on the woman’s thigh. It so obnoxiously reminded him of you and the soft spot you held in your heart for the damned feral animals. Sukuna grunted in question at his half-brother. “You still coming to the show tonight?”

He paused his careful strokes for a fraction of a second before blinking away his frustration.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I be?”

His gruff response made Choso’s eyes roll in annoyance. It was so like him to pretend as though no one could tell that something was going on with him.

“Well she just texted me to ask, so I figured there was a reason.”

It took every bit of restraint in him not to jolt in surprise and completely fuck up this client’s day. Why didn’t she text him? Why the hell did she feel more comfortable going to his damn brother than him? His jaw clicked as it clenched in indignation. An aggravated huff escaped him as he wiped at the woman’s tattoo and prepared to wrap it up.

“You can tell her that if she wants to know that she can ask me her fucking self.” The dark-haired man’s brows rose at his brother’s tone, pursing his lips as he turned on his heels with a shake of his head, a motion that certainly didn't go over Sukuna’s head. “You got something to say?”

“Other than you’re going to regret whatever the hell it is you’re sulking over in a few days? Nah, it’s all good. I’ll let her know that Yuji and I are still coming.”

He didn’t give him a chance for a rebuttal before he made his way back up to the front. A grumbled tut left him as he cleaned the tattoo before him and began wrapping it.

“That sketch is gorgeous.” The client commented as he busied himself with her wrap. He glanced up at her in question before following her gaze to the sketch that he’d created for you that night and inevitably inked on you. The original was still taped to his station, always having been his favorite reminder of you to get him through his shifts. “You the artist? I have a friend who would probably love to get that inked.”

Faster than he could even fully process her request, he was adamantly shaking his head with a fierce defensiveness. Even through the haze of his hurt, he knew that that drawing would never grace the skin of anyone else— no one else would be worthy of a piece inspired by you, no one had the right. He couldn’t bear the thought of tainting its sanctity with the likes of some of the scum that came through here.

“Out of commission.” He gruffed plainly, not bothering to grace the notion with an explanation. Ripping off his gloves, his eager fingers dug his phone from his back pocket, but he was only met with further disappointment at the realization that— no, you still hadn’t reached out.

As he walked his client to the front, he could see his brother typing away adamantly on his phone, and it pissed him off to think of you on the other end of it with the reassurance that his damn brothers would be coming to support you tonight.

Sukuna couldn’t drag himself outside fast enough, hiding under the guise of needing some air when, truthfully, he was tempted to rip the stupid fucking buns right off Choso’s head if he heard his phone ping one more time. It was his rage, that’s what he’d blame it on as his thumbs furiously pounded at the poor, unsuspecting screen of his phone before hitting send.

I’ll be there.

You were sure you would throw up if there had been anything in your stomach to begin with that day. With your nerves so overwhelmingly shot, you could barely stomach a few saltine crackers before even they were making you nauseous.

Staring back at you in the mirror was the woman you had been fighting tooth and nail for for so long. The white, feathered headpieces sat snuggly against your temples and into the sides of your slicked-back bun. You almost didn’t recognize yourself in the dramatically winged, dark shadow that shrouded your eyes.

You couldn’t be sure if the reassurance that Ryo would be coming despite your near week of radio silence comforted or intimidated you even more.

From the closed door of your dressing room, you could hear the orchestra performing each intricate number as act one got the ball rolling. There were dancers in and out of the room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move, stuck idly in your chair as you awaited act two to begin with your entrance.

No matter how much you had soaked it, iced it, rolled it— goddamn it, prayed over it, your foot still throbbed under the constraints of your pointe shoes. It only needed to get through the next hour and a half— that’s the mantra that played like a broken record in your head in hopes of calming your very real fears of it failing you mid-performance.

The minor piece of solace you had apart from that was that your sudden change in behavior had urged you and Satoru to get a bit more comfortable with each other as you had to begrudgingly explain to him why you had been a bit off your game. You were shocked when the man, who you were sure hadn’t a sincere bone in his body, reassured you that he’d be more cautious with you with each lift and land the two of you had ahead of you tonight given your injury.

You watched with bated breath from the side stage as Satoru aimed the prop crossbow before turning to prance toward his stage left to mimic his hunt, the long awaited queue for your entrance. The peripherals of your vision blurred as you allowed your muscle memory to take over, and you were soon landing your grand jeté before dipping into your first bow as Odette.

Ryomen felt each last puff of air in his lungs abandon him at the sight of you with your breathtakingly intricate, snow-white costume, truly embodying a princess. He had admittedly been growing restless throughout the first half hour of the production without so much as a glimpse of you. Now though, as the glimmering crown tucked into your hair shimmered under the stage lights, he was sure he’d wait it tenfold to relive the magnetic way you commanded the stage upon your first arabesque.

The grip he had around the base of the bouquet he’d brought you tightened as he watched you and your partner float about the stage, twisting and turning against and around each other with a synchronicity that embodied just how much dedication you two had put into your performative chemistry— at least that’s what he hoped as your noses brushed in an almost kiss.

Not even in his wildest dreams would he have thought he’d ever find himself sitting through a two-hour ballet, but you had him completely enraptured. He recalled what you had mentioned about the recruiters that would be coming to this performance, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was your night. The recruiters had to be captivated by you— just as every soul that was surrounding him seemed to be.

As the show progressed, it was clear how you lost yourself inch by inch to Odette, and you soon weren’t sure where you ended and she began. You had just been starting to convince yourself that you’d make it. There was but a half hour left, and though you could feel your injured foot growing angrier and angrier with each pointed formation, you were pushing it to the back of your mind, something to be dealt with later.

But somewhere after the fourteenth of the iconic thirty-two fouettes in a row you had to execute as your darker counterpart, Odile, was perhaps the beginning of the end for your optimism. As fate would have it, each gruelling fouette was meant to be spun off of that fucking foot, and by the end of them you were sure your face was tinted red from the way you held back your cries of pain.

Ryomen could see it too, despite how well you disguised it as an expression of passion. His fingers dug deeper and deeper into his thighs with each spin during the sequence, because he could practically feel that bruised foot crumbling under such pressure. Despite it all— you did it, and, not only that, you made it appear damn near effortless.

It was nearing the final number now, and he had been watching your eyes morph with each second that passed. Perhaps it wasn’t clear to anyone else, but he knew that glassy look wasn’t just your impeccable dedication to the scene. You had been changed back into your white swan costume, taking the stage with both Prince Seigfried and Rothbart as you gracefully dashed yourself between the arms of each man. It wasn’t until the final leap that Satoru would catch you from that you felt it.

Just as your pointed foot hit the stage floor, you could all but hear the tiniest of cracks. Your breath hitched, a nearly muted choke catching in your throat that luckily the audience couldn’t hear over the orchestra. Satoru did though, his hands on your waist tightening as he attempted to subtly lift you ever so slightly to take some of the weight off your foot. A whimper lingered in the back of your throat as the pain radiated up your leg.

“It’s okay.” Your white-haired partner whispered subtly so as not to break the illusion of the performance. “You just have to make it to the lake.”

His near silent reassurance into your ear was fleeting as you spun away from him. Make it to the lake. The words were chanting like a mantra in your head.

Ryomen thought the armrest of his seat would snap under the pressure of his grip, watching in horror as a single tear slipped down your cheek upon that fateful landing, and he knew something had gone wrong. Judging by the way your partner seemed to subtly lean in to whisper in your ear, he knew he was right.

Still, your remaining bourrees across the stage were flawlessly executed despite you feeling the likely fracture in your foot arguably worsening with each step, and Odette was finally taken up into the arms of Rothbart, lifted high above his head to take her behind the veil of the lake to die— and that’s certainly what it felt like you were doing.

Sukuna was out of his seat before Prince Seigfried could even properly fall to his knees to mourn the loss of his love, practically hopping over seats to get to the back. It was proven difficult, what with all the attendees rising to their feet to offer a standing ovation as the show concluded. Finally making it out of the row, he shouldered into attendants and workers until he found the backstage entrance sign.

A worker placed a hand on his shoulder to inform him that he wasn’t authorized to go back there, but he knew the man wasn’t about to be stupid enough to fight him if he pushed his way through those doors anyway. There were troves of ballet dancers moving like ants through the hallways, all looking up at him in bewilderment as he pounded toward the dressing room at the end of the hall.

“Oi, you all had better be fucking decent cause I’m coming in!” It was the only warning he gave along with the three cautionary pounds against the door before he burst in. There in the far back surrounded by a myriad of frazzled dancers was you, still hauntingly enchanting in your Swan Queen costume as you heaved out cries against the cold floor. The pointe shoe on your injured foot had already been wrangled off, and Satoru was frantically tearing your tights between his fingers from the ankle down to observe the damage.

You looked up at the sudden commotion. The dramatic, black makeup that had been so intricately painted onto your face was now streaming down your cheeks in ugly, noir waves as your face scrunched up heartbreakingly at the sight of him standing before you.

“Ryo.” You choked out helplessly between your heaving sobs of pain, and he felt his heart shatter all at once. Parting through the sea of dancers, he shoved at the white-haired man’s shoulder.

“Move the fuck outta my way.” Sukuna bit out, probably much harsher than necessary for someone who seemed to be trying to help, but he did just watch this dude grabbing at your waist and thighs and caressing your face for damn near two hours straight. And sure, he knew it was all part of the performance, but fuck you didn’t warn him that you’d actually be kissing the dude. In spite of it all, Satoru didn’t need to be told twice before he was standing to let him take over.

“I-I think it’s broken. I can’t m-move it—”

“It’s okay, I’m right here.” He urged, his fingers just barely ghosting over your calf as he took in the sight of your mangled foot. It had swollen considerably within the confines of your pointe shoe over the past few hours, and the nearly black skin was hot to the touch.

“The recruiters, Ryo— I screwed it up, I—”

“Fuck the recruiters, I’m taking you to the fucking hospital.” You didn’t get much of a word in edgewise as he scooped you up, darting through the parted crowd and out the back exit.

Though he wasn’t quite sure what he would say if given the chance, your frenzied sobs filled the air around you two the entire drive. He tried to calm you, but it was proven difficult with his split attention on the road. It also wasn’t clear if your cries were mainly attributed to the pain or the mental anguish. Still, with sweat beginning to bead at his temples, he grasped at your hand and placed it over his chest in a desperate attempt to get you to match his breathing. Although it seemed like you were truly trying, you continued choking up with each throb of your foot.

Sukuna’s perpetual feeling of being absolutely worthless continued as you sat silently in the hospital bed, only your occasional sniffles breaking through the white noise of the room as you awaited the okay from the doctor to be discharged. The xray they performed confirmed your suspicions, and you had been suffering from a stress fracture. He sat in the stiff chair beside your bed, hunched over with his elbows resting on his thighs as you stared blankly at the stark white cast now covering your foot and ankle.

Neither of you were quite sure what to say to one another. Your current state was… delicate, and he wasn’t sure that bringing up the fight would be the best idea for you right now. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he straightened his posture, eyes fluttering over you apprehensively before he cast his line out.

“I don’t know how you do it.” He confessed sincerely, watching as your eyes cast a sidelong glance at him.

“What, manage to fracture my foot during one of the most important performances of my life?”

“How you let yourself feel so much for everyone to see.” His response made you flush, your brows furrowinf as you looked away from him once again.

“I couldn’t really help it, my bone was kind of split—”

“I’m not talking about your damn foot, doll.” Ryomen sighed in exasperation. It was already difficult enough for him to be so sincere in his appreciation, and your making him spell it out was twisting the knife in his already wounded pride. “The show. I… I ain’t ever seen anything like that before. You’re just not fucking scared of yourself.”

Twisting your arms around yourself, you gulped down whatever emotions his words seemed to ignite in you.

“Yeah, well it doesn’t matter now. I screwed it all up.”

“Bullshit, you had everyone hanging off their fucking seats.”

“And they all watched me ruin it with that— that stupid landing.”

Sukuna blinked harshly in disbelief at your self-critictism. With an incredulous laugh, he leaned forward to look you in the eyes.

“You played that shit off like nothing happened. No one noticed.”

“You noticed.”

“Yeah, cause I fucking love you.” It tumbled out his mouth faster than he could have reeled it back in. For the second time that night, he was struck by the gruelling confusion of how the fuck it came so easily to you to pour your heart out, because it felt like he was chewing on glass right now as he awaited your response. Your glassy eyes finally looked up at him, face stained by makeup and disbelief. It all showed so clearly on your face, so bravely and unabashedly. It made him want to stand resolute for something for once in his pathetic life. “I love you.”

Soon, your lip was trembling once again as a fresh stream of tears stung at your already burning eyes. Burying your face into your hands, you shook your head.

“I said such awful things to you, Ryo.” You cried into your palms, the guilt that had been festering over the gruelling week finally coming to fruition without the distraction of your performance to keep your mind from dwelling on it. “Y-You were just trying to help me—”

“Hey, I say mean shit all the time,” He reassured, moving from his chair to squeeze beside you in the bed. “You should’ve beat the shit outta me if we’re really trying to get equal.”

Your back shook, and he knew this time it was finally from your laughter instead of those gut-wrenching sobs that had been frequenting his ears. Desperate to catch a glimpse of your smile after so long of being met with your frown, he gently pried your hands away from your face. Ryo sighed wistfully at the sight of your wobbly grin, reaching up to wipe at the smudged makeup under your eyes.

“You look more like a fucking racoon than a swan right now.” Your teary-eyed gaze didn’t seem to help his lack of brain-to-mouth filter at all, and he smirked at his own pathetically weak restraint. “See? I should’ve gotten my teeth knocked out for that one.”

But, of course, you only smiled at him— that glimmering eyed smile that even after all this time he felt so undeserving of.

“Well, you’re lucky I love you then, huh?”

His heart pounded embarrassingly against his chest, blanketed with the safety of your reciprocity.

“The luckiest bastard I know.” He whispered before pressing a kiss gentler than he was accustomed to against your awaiting lips.

There was a soft knock at the door that had him sighing in frustration against your face, but he pulled away from you nonetheless. When the door cracked open, it wasn’t the doctor as the both of you had been hoping so you could get the hell out of here. Instead, Choso and Yuji both filed in hesitantly as though they weren’t sure what kind of energy they’d be met with. When you smiled brightly at the sight of the various flowers in their arms, the pair felt more at ease as they stepped fully into the room.

“That was the most metal shit I’ve ever seen in my life.” Choso was the first to gush excitedly, setting down both his and Sukuna’s abandoned bouquet in your lap.

“So sick— I can’t believe you just walked that shit off!” Yuji was rushing to the far wall of the room to snatch the marker off the whiteboard containing the nurse’s information on it. He continued to ramble enthusiastically as he sat himself at the foot of your bed to doodle on your cast. Your eyes fluttered between him and his twin, and it was a bit disorienting seeing them side by side for the first time. “You’re a total badass.”

“Oi, easy with her fucking foot, brat.” Ryomen grumbled as he flicked his brother in the forehead, already annoyed at both his brothers for butting into you two’s moment.

It was clear that his bright-eyed counterpart was used to his brash nature as he completely brushed it off, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on his drawing of what you could only assume was supposed to be a swan. It was clear his twin got all the artistic ability while Yuji was left with all the sunshine. As if his drawing triggered his memory, he quickly perked up.

“The casting was crazy too! That girl playing the black swan seriously looked just like you.”

A quiet disbelief fell over the three of you as the boy continued marking up your cast.

“Yuji—”

“Don’t bother,” Ryo quickly stopped you from correcting him with what could only be described as a fierce look of exhaustion on his face. “He’s a little slow— it’ll come to him.”

All the artistry and the brains— got it.

gojo and itafushi crumbs because your girl is starving

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

381 notes · View notes