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gojonanami · 8 months

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IS IT OVER NOW? - SUGURU GETO (ft. SATORU GOJO)

summary: suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend. contents: 18+ only, smut, mentions of cheating, swearing, spoilers for vol. 0 + star plasma vessel and premature death arc, so much angst, but also too much smut (gotta earn that smut by getting through the angst), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f + m receiving), slight choking, panty play, overstimulation (f receiving) wc: 11,150 (why do i do this) playlist: is it over now - taylor swift, now that we don't talk - taylor swift, you are in love - taylor swift, say don't go - taylor swift

“It’s over,” the words slipped out of his mouth like second nature, the same way “I love yous” left his lips with a smile against your neck, but now those same lips were in a tight line. His eyes once filled with mirth, now stared at you with nothing in them — nothing but empty truth.

You don’t believe your ears — and how could you? The same man who laid with you on sleepless nights, in the silence of the way home after brutal losses, mornings spent in his wrinkled uniform white button up, stupid arguments ended in laughter, and the whispered promises kept like oaths in your hearts.

But now, they were broken — broken like your heart was.

“It’s over, I’m sorry — I can’t do this anymore,” and you’re stepping forward over this ravine with a snapping tightrope, but he’s on the other side with a lighter and a knife — daring you to cross it. Because he wouldn’t catch you — not anymore, “it’s not you—“

“Don’t give me bullshit assurances, Suguru,” you spit, the same name you had woken up this morning on your lips, all the love he had fostered over two and half years eroding away with his few words — slipping into hatred without another word, “give me a reason, I know Amanai and Haibara hurt you — hell, it hurt me too, but—“

“Don’t bring them up—“ he seethes, the same passion he once had for you — for even a scratch you had gotten from a mission that he promised to make a curse pay for again and again by making it serve him — now used for people who weren’t even here anymore, “it has nothing to do with them,”

And you almost laugh. It had everything to do with them. You had watched him fall apart over this summer — scapegoat the summer heat to Satoru’s face, when it wasn’t the heat that was withering him to nothing — a wilting flower simmered under the heat of loss. And with no one who could reach him — because he wouldn’t let them.

“You know that’s not true—”

“I cheated on you,” and the words die on your lips — along with any hope you had, “it was a stupid mistake but it showed me we can’t keep doing this,”

“You’re lying,” you denied it — no, no, no.

“I’m not,” and you can’t make sense of it, sense of anything, images of him tangled with another assaulting your senses — assaulting your heart, your soul, your body — bile rising in your throat that seared you on the way down as you swallow, “I didn’t want to have to tell you, but if it’s the only way for you to accept this, so be it,”

“Fuck off, you didn’t want to ‘have to tell me,’” hot, angry tears burning at your eyes, “fuck you,”

“Sweet—“

“You don’t get to call me that,” you snarl, heart rattling your ribs, as if it was trying to break through its bony cage, as if puncturing itself on the shards of your bones would hurt less, “not unless you’re trying to fix this,” you bargain, bargain for a love that was already lost.

“We can’t do this — I can’t do this to you,” and you give a watery chuckle, unable to meet his gaze; meet the gaze you once thought was your salvation — the thing you fought day in and day out to come home to, “I’m sorr—”

“Don’t bother,” you bottle the sadness in a barely kept shut box, shoved beneath your icy exterior, ice crawling over the recesses of your shattered soul, “don’t apologize for me for something you chose to do,” and you turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?”

And you give a terse chuckle, turning to look back, “you don’t get to care anymore, Geto.”

~~~

It was necessary. It was necessary. It was necessary.

That’s what Suguru keeps telling himself. He was caught in a tailspin, a tailspin that was only leading him one place, and he couldn’t take you with him. He couldn’t let that happen. But you keep haunting his thoughts, along with the other ghosts holed up in his head.

He hasn’t seen you in weeks. Only sporadic updates from Shoko when she humored his questions with a bribe of free cigarettes — and he didn’t know what you had told her but he knew you hadn’t told her that he had cheated (because Shoko would have surely ignored him). Shoko had even snuck a picture of you. You had grown your hair out, eyes no longer full of the joy as it once had been, and a cigarette you had said you had sworn you would never smoke between your lips.

And it only makes him want to pull the cigarette from your lips and kiss you again, swallow the smoke poisoning your lungs, hoping your lips would clear the poison from his system. But he couldn’t — he couldn’t go back now. Not when he couldn’t shake the darkness that crept over his soul — he couldn't go back to that spring, because those old days had died along with everyone else around him. Shot through the head just like Amanai.

He stares at the picture and it only makes him more sure — he can’t be in your life. He can’t be yours, he can’t even be your friend — because he can’t pretend it’s just platonic — can’t pretend it means nothing — not when you can see right through him, see the light fading from inside him, and you’d try to save him. Because that’s what you do. So he pays the cost instead, the cost of losing you — of losing your smiles, your laughs, your tears, and your voice.

And he didn’t even have his dignity — he had left that behind when he had lied to your face. Lied because he knew it was the only way you’d leave, and he couldn’t risk you staying. He couldn’t let your fingers dig into his sides, as he let himself drown, he couldn’t watch you choke on water along with him — no, no, it couldn’t happen.

He had long drowned — on that beach in Okinawa.

He got a phone call — Yaga — likely with another mission, and he only can think about Tsukomo’s words — over and over and over. He was treating the symptoms, eradicating curses day in and day out, he himself was a symptom of a broken system — a broken sorcerer.

And he flips his phone open, staring at the screensaver of you and him, your sleepy smile as you look up at the camera nuzzled against his chest — filled with the same love in your eyes that he watched drain from your eyes when he fed you perfectly prepared lies.

“Hello, yes, I’m available for a mission,” he hears Yaga give him the details of the mission on the other line, but it barely registers.

But at least he wouldn’t break you too.

~~~

You wake to a pounding at the door — the one time you had gotten time off, the one time you had taken the vacation you swore you would, the vacation that you would have your phone off, doors locked, no communication with anyone with Jujutsu Tech.

And yet.

There was someone banging on your door at 11:09 PM at night.

You stare at your ceiling at the spinning fan above you, and you couldn’t imagine how this night could get any worse. You throw off your covers, only in sleep shorts and a t-shirt, grumbling as you meander your way to the door to find Satoru, standing at your doorstep.

Your heart drops.

“What— did—“

“Suguru defected,” and you stare at him, as if he’s speaking a foreign language — two words made no sense in that order, no, no — he wouldn’t do that. Suguru out of anyone wouldn’t do that.

“No, that can’t—“ and Satoru comes inside, brushing past you, “Satoru—“

“It’s not just that,” he says softly, “he slaughtered a village, and his parents,” and you’re shaking your head, “why are you shaking your head—“

“What kind of weird prank is this, Satoru— he wouldn’t—“ and your voice dies in his throat as you see the look on his face, and all other words fade away from your lips except one — “why?”

And he explains — tells you what Suguru had told him, what had happened, why he left — “I couldn’t bring myself to kill him,” he murmurs, shaking his head, “I should have — if I had done what he did, Suguru wouldn’t have hesitated—“

“He wouldn’t have been able to do that to you, Satoru,” you scoff, leaning against your couch, Satoru sat beside you, “you’re the most important person to him, he wouldn’t have been able to even fathom the idea of hurting you. He would have just tried to convince you to change your mind,”

He gives a bitter chuckle, “Well then, he would have been able to change my mind all the same,” he’s holding his face, as if it would keep himself from falling to pieces — but his hands are too late — you can see the broken pieces of what was Satoru Gojo in front of you.

“Satoru, you can’t put Suguru upon yourself to save — he made the choices he made, you can’t change them. You can’t fix a person who doesn’t want to be fixed,” and maybe you were projecting — but you swore you saw the same pain, the same pain the day he broken your heart in Satoru’s eyes, “Suguru is smart enough to know where this road is leading—”

“And why can’t I completely blame him for choosing it?” he murmurs, his cerulean eyes finally meeting yours over the rim of his sunglasses, “I understand how he feels — so do you, you’ve seen the broken system, the deaths that could have been prevented—”

“But is this the way to fix it with innocent peoples’ blood on our hands?” you whisper, almost afraid to hear his answer, “I have friends who aren’t sorcerers — would he have me slaughter them too?”

“Well, he killed his own parents, so I wouldn’t doubt that,” he shakes his head, “Suguru was never the type to do things half-heartedly,” and his gaze falls again to the floor, “do you know after I had retrieved Amanai’s body — I asked Suguru if we should kill all of those people in the Star Religious Group?”

“Satoru—”

“He said there would be no point in it — no reason,” and he’s licking his lips, pulling his glasses off, “but he found his reason now, didn’t he?”

“Satoru, you had just come off Amanai, almost dying, you had barely a moment to process—”

“Why did he tell me to stop? Why did he save me when he couldn’t do himself the same courtesy?” And he’s rising to his feet, pacing the room, unable to sit still, “I thought I’d come here and talk to you because who else could understand him more than me? Shoko maybe, but even she doesn’t know,” his fists are clenched at his sides, as he whirls to face you again, “Why? I don’t understand how a person can change so much — how can you go from protecting the weak to—”

“Satoru, I don’t know why Suguru does the things he does—did you forget? He broke up with me,” the words reopen old wounds you thought had long scarred over, flesh wounds that had ripped you open, but had closed back up, now bleeding like new, “and he cheated on me,” and walked away without another word — twisting the knife with his silence.

Satoru’s brows knit together, his mouth opening as if to dispute it, but closing again — because if Suguru could murder his own parents, why wouldn’t he cheat on his girlfriend?

“I’m sorry—” and you laugh bitterly, meeting his gaze.

“I think we have bigger problems than his unfaithfulness,” and he says nothing, “what are we going to do about him?”

“Nothing—”

You stare at him, lips parted, “Satoru—”

“I can’t kill him,” his voice breaks, and it breaks you too, “I couldn’t bear it. I can’t be the one to—”

“But you’re the only one who can—” and you swallow the lump in your throat — how could you tell him to kill Suguru when you couldn’t imagine doing it either? “then what do we do?”

“Nothing, for now,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “I’ll monitor his moves as best I can, he’s good at covering his tracks — he knows how I operate more than anyone else does,” he says softly, “but not many can hide from the six eyes,”

“And you know how he does things too, Satoru,” you find your way his side, your fingers finding his, “it will take time for Suguru to make large moves — especially if he has two young children with him right now,” your heart aches at the thought — he promised to marry you one day, promised you a family once you both had settled down enough to consider it, and now he had two kids. But you weren’t with him.

His eyes find yours, “i’m sorry about what happened — I wasn’t there — I haven’t been here, at all—”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Satoru,” and he’s shaking his head.

“Maybe I could have—”

“You can’t fix the whole world, Satoru,” you whisper gently, “you’re the strongest, yes, but that doesn't mean you can be everywhere and do everything,”

“I should have been here,” and you’re shaking your head, “I could’ve—”

“You couldn’t have, do you know how stubborn Suguru is? We couldn’t even convince him to cut his hair, much less change his mind about committing mass murder,” and he sighs, his eyes falling and rising to yours again, “hey, you’re okay, you know. You do too much, honestly, everything you’ve done — everything you will do—”

“And yet it will never feel like enough,” and you feel as if you could hear the same words leaving Suguru’s mouth too — the two had more in common than they had cared to admit.

“You are enough,” and your fingers find his cheek, “just as Satoru, you are,”

And his arms are pulling you into a hug then, head buried in your shoulder, his body consuming you with its warmth, your fingers running through his snowy locks, his tears wetting your shirt, but you say nothing, only holding him.

He pulls back after a few minutes, but his arms still wrapped around you, as he stares at you, barely any evidence of his tears, except for the redness on the tip of his nose, “You’re enough too,”

“I don’t know about that,” you joke, and he’s cutting you off with sharp words and a sharper look.

“You are, sweetheart,” and the familiar pet name makes your heart ache, “you’re more than enough,” and his palm is resting against his cheek, thumb rubbing the length of your cheek, “you’re so much more than you even know,”

And your breath catches as he draws near, “Satoru—” you shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. But why did his hands feel so nice against your cheeks? Why were you melting into his touch? Why didn’t you pull away?

“I just want to feel something else,” his hand is sliding into your hair, fingers pressed against your neck, “don’t you?”

And your lips find his first, lips brushing at first — and he’s so soft, his breath catching when you do, your fingers against his cheeks, and he’s pulling you back in again — it’s gravity. Again and again your lips meet, less hesitant with each kiss and each touch.

This shouldn’t be happening. You needed to stop it — Suguru had always teased that his best friend had a thing for you — hell, Satoru had all but admitted it with teasing words and promises to steal you away if Suguru ever had fumbled your relationship. But you knew he’d never would do it.

Or you thought he never would do it.

His hands slide down your body, pulling your hips closer to his, “tell me stop, if you want me to,” he murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “I want—”

And you’re kissing him again, pulling him along your living room to your bedroom, “I don’t want to stop,” you breathe, you want something else, you want Suguru’s touch cleansed from your body, you want something more — you want to be wanted.

It had been so long since you had been wanted. The last few months with Suguru felt like an exercise in futility. You barely saw him, much less touched him — mission after mission, and excuse after excuse, piled onto the pyre waiting to burn your love for him alive. How long had it been since you had even kissed him? Each time you tried would end in him pulling away, shaking his head and telling you he was tired.

And he was. He was tired — tired of his work, tired of jujutsu society, and tired of you.

But he didn’t have the courtesy to let you know.

But Satoru…

His fingers are quick to get you naked, deftly pulling your t-shirt over your head, as your fingers tug his jacket off with the same eagerness, “Eager, are we?” he murmurs, half hearted teasing, a ghost of a smile on his lips as you pout, “don’t worry, I am too, baby,” as your fingers tug his sunglasses off, and place them on your nightstand.

You roll your eyes, “Satoru—” and he’s swallowing your retort with his lips — and you can’t help but compare them in your mind, he was so much more aggressive than Suguru was. Suguru’s hands slid over your hips and thighs as if he had all the time in the world, while Satoru’s clung to you desperately, as if you’d dissipate under his fingertips, “should we be doing this? Suguru—“

“Cheated. Murdered. Left us,” And his lips slide from his lips to your jaw, before his teeth graze right under your jaw, drawing a gasp from your lips.

And his lips curl, “Such a pretty noise, just f’me,” and he’s biting and sucking, surely leaving a lovely mark against your skin, his tongue tracing over the mark, “did you make noises like that for Suguru?”

“Satoru—” and his fingers are tugging at your bra, teasing your erect nipples as he’s only tugging the garment down, “fuck—” and his lips kiss your tit, while he’s rolling the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “please,”

“Did you beg him like that too?” his fingers pull at the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin underneath, “no wonder Suguru kept you for yourself,” he’s tugging off your shorts down your legs.

“Can we not talk about him if we aren’t gonna talk—” and his lips find yours again, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, “Satoru—” you gasp as he pulls at your lip, thumb sliding over the kiss bitten flesh.

“How can we not?” he murmurs, as his hands slide up your thighs to squeeze your ass, “is this the bed he fucked you on? Is this the way he touched you?” and he’s parting your thighs, large palms holding you apart, as his half lidded eyes linger on the wet patch on your panties, “is this how wet you got for him? Am I special?”

“Oh, fuck off—” and your words fall away as his finger presses against the wet patch, thumb against your puffy clit while his fingers tease your aching cunt.

“What was that, baby?” and he’s grinning, and he spares you, dragging your ruined underwear down, and he’s leaning down to your sopping pussy only to press teasing kisses to your inner thigh, before his lips press against your clit, “so fucking wet,” and he inhales, a languid moan leaving his lips, “if you taste as good as you smell, I’ll be cumming in my pants before I even fuck your pretty cunt,”

And his fingers sink into you — two at once, making your lips part, teasing your pussy open, the lewd sounds fill your ears as your slick squelches against his fingers, “Hear that? Such a greedy cunt, swallowing my fingers up even when I try to pull out,” and he’s pumping faster now, fingers curling against your walls, making you moan far too loudly, “moaning like that, and I’ve barely even started,” he hums, before his breath is warming your slick cunt as a warning as his tongue begins to lap at your clit, again and again.

“Fuck, Toru, need more—” His other hand is only grabbing you, pulling you impossibly closer as a third finger finds its way into you, and your hips move against his touch, begging him to fuck you in earnest. But he’s unrelenting. You can hear him swallow around you, every flutter of your cunt made just for him, as he nearly growls against you, vibrations only making you nearly grind yourself against his fingers and mouth. His tongue circles your clit, toying with it, before his lips close over it and suck, nearly making you scream, “I’m cummin—”

And his fingers finally find the spot they had been looking for, again and again with deft precision, as your walls clench around his fingers, as you gasp, arching your back, as you cum, and he’s licking your essence up eagerly.

Grinning as he pulls his fingers from you, licking your cum from his digits, before lapping at your leaking cunt, making you twitch around nothing, “Fuck, needy pussy practically begging me to fill you, huh? Hehehe,” he’s looking up at you all fucked out, your thighs twitching, eyes blown out — meanwhile his lips, chin, and nose were painted in your essence, the most beautiful work of art you’d ever seen, “didn’t realize how much I wanted this,” and he’s licking up your cum off his face, and wiping the rest on the back of his hand, and he’s climbing back over you, dragging his clothed bulge over your still sensitive cunt, making you both groan, “and I guess neither did you,”

You’re still looking up at him with lust filled eyes, as your fingers find his cheeks, “aren’t you wearing far too many clothes still?” and he’s smiling, “wanna help me out with that, sweetheart?” he asks, as his fingers press your boobs together, thumbs flicking against the abused nipples, cock twitching against your cunt as if he was imaging what it would feel like to blow his load right between them, his warm cum all over your face—

And you’re flipping him in a moment, pinned underneath you, as your fingers undo each button of his now definitely creased white button up, damp with your cum, as your palms drag over the exposed skin of his chest and abs, “Can’t wait to fuck myself on this later,” you murmur, leaning down to drag your tongue up his stomach, making him gasp deliciously, before your fingers busy themselves with undoing his belt, the click of the buckle only making you ache more, as you undo the zipper of his pants, tugging his boxers along with them to bunch at his feet hanging off your too small of a bed, and you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips.

He’s so fucking big.

Suguru was big, so fucking big that the first time he fucked you, he couldn’t even fit in your tight cunt. He had to give you multiple orgasms, prep you right, stretching you out with his fingers and tongue, and even a dildo, until you could fit himself with lube. And Satoru definitely wasn’t as thick as Suguru, but he made up for that in length — fuck, how deep would that reach? A pretty curve at the end with lovely veins running up that made your mouth water, white pubes dotting along it that were shaved, but grown out — likely from being away on missions for so long.

“You can take a picture, it’d last longer,” and your eyes snap up to the smirk on his lips, “although I tend to last very long,” he’s shrugging out of his shirt and kicking off his pants, before he’s pinning you under him again, “and if you do, maybe I can take a picture of you, full of my cum, my cock fucking it back in — it’s only fair, right, pretty?” and you shiver, as his finally unclothed cock bumps against your cunt, “oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I’ll make it my screensaver, you’d like wouldn’t you, filthy girl?”

And your fingers wrap around his cock, finally making him shut up with a hiss, “Gonna talk all night, or you gonna fuck me, Toru?” and he barks out a laugh, but it's consumed by a moan as you stroke him, leaning up to kiss along his jaw, “you gonna fuck the same hole your best friend did? Gonna cum there too?” and he’s thickly swallowing, your words leaving the great Satoru Gojo speechless, “what? If you brought up Suguru, so can I, right? Only fair,” you echo his words, and you’re squeezing around the base of him, “well, are you—”

And he’s pulling your hand away, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock, dragging his pre-cum over your cunt, letting your cum mix together, “Fuuuuuck, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous,” and he’s manhandling you, grabbing your thighs, and hooking your ankles over his shoulders, “gonna fuck you now, sweetheart, any complaints?”

He grins at the way you shake your head eagerly, hips nearly grinding against his cock, and his tip sinks past your walls, “so tight, baby, did Suguru not fuck you right?” You can’t manage a reply, as you grasp at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as he sinks into you inch by inch, his brow furrowed beautifully as he finally bottoms out with a groan, “s’good f’me, so perfect—“ your walls flutter around him, your slick soaking him, and he’s tilting your head by your chin to make you look at where he’s sunk into you.

And he’s pulling out before sinking back in, and you’re gasping and squeezing him — how was he possibly deeper? “Fuck, baby, your cunt is trying snap me half,” and his hips are slapping against you as he fucks you in earnest, the squeaks of your mattress as he thrusts in and out and the lewd squelch of your pussy as it wraps around every inch and vein of his cock, “that’s it, that’s it, take me, take every inch of me,” and his balls are slapping against your ass, “did you take Suguru this well? Did you ever take anyone this well?”

And you’re a mess of just moans as he’s fucking you again and again, as he cups your chin, “I didn’t hear an answer or did the I fuck the words out of you too, baby?” He’s kissing you again, swallowing your noises with lips curled, before he’s pulling away with a groan, “can’t hear myself think with how loud you are — so fucking wet,”

“S’close, Toru, I-“ and he’s grunting, nodding, as he watches you, his cerulean eyes stare at you, right as his tip brushes your cervix—

“Cum for me baby, let me watch you cum around my cock,” and his fingers reach down between the two of you and rub against your clit, making your eyes roll back, as you fall apart around him.

Your walls are fluttering around him as you cum, moaning his name on your lips, as he pistons in and out again and again, thrusts stuttering as your walls squeeze him tight, “baby, I’m gonna cum, where do you want me—“

“Inside—please need to feel you cum—“ and you’re moaning, pulling him impossibly closer, and he’s sinks deep into you, and cums. He’s spurting his thick load into you, fucking it into you deeper and deeper, until you’re so full of him and his cum, you can barely feel anything else.

He’s slipping your legs off his shoulders, before collapsing on top of you, sinking into your arms. He’s pulling out, watching your mixed releases slip out of you with a groan, “how are you so fucking perfect?” He’s finding your lips in a kiss, before his nose nuzzles your neck, as your highs wear down.

Your fingers run through his white strands, “shouldn’t I be asking you that?” And he laughs, settling on your chest. And for a moment you forget — you forget the nights you spent with Suguru in this bed, the nights spent in tangled sheets with whispered nothings, with his arms around you, just like Satoru’s were now.

But only for a moment.

And as Satoru’s soft snores filled your ears, the only thing on your mind was the one person who you wanted in your bed right now.

~~~

“Still asleep?” your fingers run through his hair, “such a lazy-bones on your days off,” and your lips trace over his jaw, making his lips curl despite the draw of sleep, “gonna leave me hanging after last night?”

And your lips find his, sliding over his with practiced ease, the same way you breathed — it was natural, as his fingers find purchase in your hair, sliding back to your neck. Again and again, your lips cannot part his, if you can’t breathe without him — cannot exist without his touch.

And when you do part, he’s smiling, black fringe falling in his eyes, “So needy in the morning,” Suguru’s voice is gravelly with sleep, even as your fingers card through his black locks, “when did you become such an early riser? Usually I’m the one dragging you out of this bed kicking and screaming,”

Usually, but he’s the one who's struggling out of bed these days. He’s struggling to even function — lifting his arms in the shower feels like too much effort — and what’s the point? Would anything change if he left his bed today? Couldn’t he escape into the recesses of his unconscious for the rest of the day?

But you’re here — and you’re leaning over him, your lips curled in that smile that damned him into submission, because what could he do except submit to you — “who said anything about leaving this bed?”

But he needed to leave this bed, he thought, as your lips found his again — and how did you always taste so sweet? — he needed to leave these warm covers and inviting embrace. Because he couldn’t stay here.

He couldn’t stay with you.

But then your lips find his, and he can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’re climbing on top of him, straddling his waist, his growing bulge tenting in his boxers. He can he stop when you’re murmuring his name like that, eager fingers tugging the damp fabric down, letting his dick slap against his stomach — a bead of precum that you lean down, your tongue darting out to taste.

And he hisses, as your fingers wrap around him, teasing the head of his cock, thumb dragging over the slit, “sweetheart—“ he's warning — but you know he’s all bark and no bite — but he would be biting you later surely, with the way you toy with him — both his cock and his feelings.

Your mere presence in his bed has him questioning himself — questioning how necessary is it to end things? Why does he need to? He had this future planned — a certain way things were to go — he was the strongest, him and Satoru, he was going to work and settle down later, marry you, maybe even a kid or two — but now — the plans had changed.

He had changed.

Satoru was the strongest. Not him. And work as a sorcerer was killing him now, as you and Satoru were sent farther and further away, and Shoko had resigned herself to medicine — what did he have? Another year of this hell — he didn’t even know if he could last another day of swallowing curses. It had become second nature to him, but without a purpose, without a reason without any principles to guide him — it became worse than torture.

It was his personal hell.

And yet, as your soft lips closed around his leaking tip, fingers playing with his balls, as you sank your mouth onto him, drawing soft moans from his lips — he didn’t wanna give it up. How could he, when you were here? He could burn his life down to ash, watch what he worked for, what he had thought was his purpose fall to pieces in front of him — let himself fall to pieces — but that would mean burning you along with it.

And could he bear that?

Your tongue flicked against his length, tracing his veins as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him, as his fingers settled in your hair, “fuck, sweetheart, s’fucking good f’me,” and his hips shallowly thrust into your mouth, “take me so well, practically swallowing my dick,” and you swallow around him, pulling a moan from his mouth, his eyes flitting down to see the telltale press of your thighs together, “such a filthy girl, look at you, probably dripping wet from sucking me off,”

And he’s tugging you off, strings of spit and his precum connecting your lips to his aching dick, “Sugu—“ your lips are red and puffy, parted still, with cum and spit slipping down the corner of your mouth.

And he’s pulling you on top of him, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, hissing as the damp fabric of your far too thin sleep shorts press against his still sensitive cock, “don’t even have to get you ready baby, already all prepped from just tasting me, aren’t you?”

He shouldn’t be doing this — he told himself today would be the day, he promised himself he’d stop pretending everything was fine. But when you felt so perfect on him — soft skin and soft sighs, your little gasp you gave when his fingers slide his t-shirt — the one full of small holes you had stolen from him when you first spent the night that you refused to throw out — up and over your head, exposing your chest to him — how can he stop?

“Suguru, please,” you whimpered as his mouth took one nipple in his mouth, warm tongue flicking against the pebbled flesh before his teeth graze it, pulling another hallowed moan from your lips, “need you,”

“Do you?” He hums, half teasing, half truthful — did you need him? Would you fall apart when he left? Would he spend nights wondering if you were anxious without him? Spend days wondering how you were filling them without him?

And you pause, strange look on your face, as your eyes scan over his features, palm sliding over his face, “of course I do,” passion falls away for a moment replaced with a different intimacy, “you’re my best friend,” and your lips slide over his as you lean down, “I’ll always need you, even when we’re both dust — I hope we spend it bathed in sunshine together,”

But would you? His eyes can’t meet yours — because he can’t see the sun in his future, only a dark descent into madness — a future spent alone. Because even with your smile at the end of his days, he couldn’t imagine spending another minute doing thankless work for miserable, ignorant, weak monkeys, only to do it all over again the next day. And his silence has you questioning him, but it’s like water fills his lungs, paralyzed by his own thoughts, and even as concern fills your eyes, he still can’t find anything to say.

So you say it instead.

“C’me here,” you murmur, and your hands slide over him, “I love you,” you kiss him all over his face — his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, before your lips hover before his, “can I—“

And he’s flipping you under him, pressing bruising kisses to your lips, as his fingers snake between your thighs, “you don’t need to ask— you never need to ask me,” he whispers in the dark, but even so, he knows — it can’t stay like this — even as he pulls your shorts down to bunch around your ankles and presses his leaking tip your messy folds — it can’t — because you were meant to live in the sunshine.

And he hilts himself in you fully, inch by inch, until he’s groaning your name in a grunt — and he belonged in the dark silence.

He knows this would be the last time. It would be. Because he had to — he couldn’t wait. It was only a waiting game until he was called to another mission, time until he dragged himself lower — until he couldn’t blame the heat for his dark bags under his eyes and the lost weight.

He had to.

And as he fucks you to your orgasm, instead of your lips moaning his name, your hard eyes meet his, lips parting, “I hate you—“ and his hands curl around your neck, “I hate lying traitors,” you choke out as his fingers squeeze your neck.

SNAP.

And he jolts awake, as whispers fill his ears, as his heartbeat slows, “Master Geto?” His eyes flicker over, spotting Nanako and Mimiko trying to snap a chocolate bar in half, “can you help us?”

A dream. It was a dream.

And he’s helping the girls, as they curl up beside him, “are you okay, Master Geto? You were talking in your sleep,” Nanako asks, ever curious, “you looked like you were having a bad dream,”

“I was,” he admits, eyes fixed downward, trying to force the image of you choking below him from his eyes, “about someone I used to know,”

“Who?” Mimiko pipes up, nibbling on her chocolate, and he sighs, running his hands through their hair, a bittersweet smile on his lips — he could still feel your lips against his, the smell of your sweat, the feel of your body.

“Someone I loved — who I left, but I guess…I guess I miss them,” why was he spilling his guts to these two little girls? Ones who had been through far too much to hear about his petty problems.

“Then why don’t you talk to them?” Nanako asks, “maybe you can tell them to live with us,” and his lips curl sadly.

“I don’t think she would want to talk to me,” and why would you? After what he had said, what he had done, and what he was going to do.

“You can try,” Mimiko says, she bites a chunk out of her share of the chocolate bar, “you tried to save us and you did — maybe you can do the same thing — save her,”

And he considers it — maybe he didn’t have to drag you down. Maybe he wouldn’t be — maybe he’d be saving you. Saving you from a system that would only land you in a pile of bodies — just like Riko, just like Haibara.

Maybe — maybe he could. Maybe he could be enough for you. Enough for you to leave. Enough for you to stay. He could have his family — and have you too.

~~~~

He still had your key.

You hadn’t bothered to ask for it back — maybe you had forgotten, maybe you didn’t care — but a part of him hoped it was for another reason, maybe you wanted him to come back.

Even so, he didn’t know if it would still work — maybe you had the foresight to change the locks — but it does, sliding into the lock with ease, as the tumblers slide into place and he’s turning the knob into a silent apartment. And it plants a stubborn seed of hope in his chest, maybe it wasn’t so crazy — aside from breaking and entering — maybe he would find his way back to you.

You’re likely on your walk this morning still — the same way you started the weekend, a walk and visit to your local coffee shop where you got the same order each time, and then you’d spend an hour browsing the shops for something to read or make. He scans the apartment — he knows you’re on vacation this week, from what Shoko had told him last, before he had spoken to Satoru. You hadn’t heard of his news, but you probably did now — if Shoko hadn’t told you, he knew Satoru would have.

And he wonders how that conversation went. Wondered how angry you were. Wondered how much you must hate him now — maybe you even wanted to kill him. But the logical side of him knew you didn’t have the skill to do so — you were a grade 1 — a cut above the rest, but still, your abilities weren’t enough, but emotionally…he may let you kill him, if only to spare him the agony of having to kill you — but he knew it’d kill you just the same.

He can see his days spent here before — you had finally moved off campus, convincing Yaga to let you have your own place early before graduation. You two had celebrated being free of dorm rooms with far too little space and too thin walls (too many times Satoru had spoiled the moment by either banging on the wall, blasting polka music, or just with smug remarks about yours and Suguru’s lack of sleep). He sees himself sitting at the kitchen counter, your stools pressed close as the two of you read the paper together, or laughed about something Shoko had texted or something stupid Gojo had done to piss off Yaga over burnt toast you had only burned while he’s pressing his lips to you. Or evenings spent on the couch cuddling while a bad movie he had picked played, but he’s more preoccupied with teasing you with brushes of his fingers against your bare skin or burying his face in the crook of your neck. And nights spent in your bed, entangled together, his arms around you listening to you breathe, skin dappled in the moonlight that streamed in from the window, wondering how did you ever exist at the same time as him?

And then the front door swings open, as he steps out from the bedroom, and he hears a bag slip falling to the floor, groceries spilling out, and his gaze finds yours, “What—”

“I came to see you,” he moves closer, and you step back — and he’s stopping, he doesn’t see fear in your eyes, he sees hurt — and he almost thinks maybe fear would pain him less.

“Well, I’m here,” you cross your arms, unable to quite meet his eyes, “anything else?”

“Sweetheart—”

“You don’t get to call me that, Geto,” your words were sharp as a knife, and you were trying to cut — and you did, deep. He bites back the sting, as he stares at you — your hair was longer, your eyes had bags, but your lips were twisted with pain, when normally it’d be quirked in a smile pressed against his cheek, “what do you want? Unless I should just save myself the trouble and call Satoru or Yaga?”

“I came to get you,” he steps forward slowly, and you don’t move away this time, “let’s be together. I—”

“You murdered people, you murdered your parents, you left Jujutsu Tech, you broke my heart, you broke Satoru’s and Shoko’s — and you want me to come with you?” you shake your head, barking out a harsh laugh, “did you lose your grip on reality between all the damage you’ve caused?

“If you let me explain—”

“And why should I let you? Your silence these past months was enough for me, you not fighting for us was enough for me, you spiraling without letting me help you was enough for me,” and your voice breaks, “and you cheating on me was enough for me, enough for me to know it’s over.”

“It’s not over, it’s not. I tried to force it to be over. I lied to you, I lied to myself, and said it was over, but it’s not, it’s not,” and he’s so close in a moment, and he can smell the familiar scent of your perfume mixed with your sweat — lavender, hibiscus, and something all the more sweeter, “not when it’s us,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, “please—”

“Don’t do this,” you’re shaking your head, again and again, “don’t, don’t, don’t, please—”

“How can I not? How can I not when I was foolish enough not to the first time, pretty?” he’s murmuring, “I love you, I do, I never stopped,”

“No, you don’t—”

“I do, I do, I know I said a lot of things, I need you to know, I need to explain, if you just let me—” and his fingers are sliding along your jaw, and finds uneven skin, and his eyes lingers, as his fingers tilt your chin up to find a fresh hickey left underneath.

“I—” and he’s drawing you close, so close, his dark eyes narrowed to slits, a deadly silence that makes your skin prickle under his gaze, until he’s warming your lips with his breath.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” but the telltale sign of your breath catching, your chest heaving against his, your lips parted as your eyes can’t pull away from him, his grip is slack enough for you to pull away — but you don’t.

You can’t.

And his lips hover before yours, warming your own with his heated breath, “Kiss me, baby,” and your cheeks warm, butterflies erupting in your stomach, heat blooming wherever his other hand sneaks, dragging over your sides.

“Why should I?” you’re grumbling, but you’re staying right where he has you — right in his arms, and you don’t know why, “you want to kiss me so bad so you do it,”

And he clicks his tongue, fingers sliding behind your head, weaving into your hair and against the soft skin of the back of your neck, tugging you closer, “you kissed someone else with those lips, tasted them, maybe a day or two — were you this bratty with them?”

“Oh fuck off, Suguru, you’re one to talk—“ and his lips swallow your bitter words, tasting them on your tongue, as he parts your lips with a rough squeeze of your hips. And his lips only quirk when your moan rumbles against him, his calloused palms sliding between your thighs.

“You open your legs this easy for them?” he says when he’s pulling away from your mouth, thumb dragging over your swollen spit soaked lips, “how’s that fair? I’m your first, baby, and I’ll always be your favorite—“

And any retort is lost as his teeth drag over your jaw, lips closing right over the hickey he had hated so much, normally calm eyes filled with dark contempt, and he’s biting down, pinching your already bruised skin between his teeth, sucking and soothing with his tongue, “Mine, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You nod wordlessly, and his fingers slide forward, wrapping around the front of your neck, thumbing the hollow of your throat, “Use your words,” and there was something darker — something he had let you have glimpses of in moments of missions, of arguments, even in bed — but it wasn’t a glimpse now — it was the whole goddamn picture above you.

“I’m yours, Suguru,” you manage, words strangled by a moan as his lithe fingers tug at the waistband of your panties, making them rub against your drenched cunt, “please—”

“So pliant now, aren’t you?” he hums, as he pulls harder, making the wet fabric rub against your aching clit, “maybe I should make you cum this way, don’t know if you deserve my fingers or my mouth yet,”

You’re a mess — mind swimming in the need for pleasure, why did it always feel so right with him? So perfect. It shouldn’t be. He cheated on you. He slaughtered humans. He left you. He left you without telling you anything of what was plaguing him, until it was too late.

It was too late. He was too late.

So why were you letting his hands tear your panties apart as he fucked you with them?

Because — your fingers reach for his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him, again and again, as your lips parted and met — it was Suguru.

It was always Suguru.

“Please, Suguru, I need you, need more—ngh—” and the fabric of your panties snaps under his fingers, as he’s ripped them off, pocketing them without another word.

“Did you let him touch you?” he’s kissing down your body, wet kisses, his lips lingering at your pebbled nipples, sucking one, while squeezing the other between his thumb and forefinger, before he switches, kissing down your stomach — tongue teasing your belly button — before he’s finally settling between your thighs, his fringe unrulier than ever, strands of his long hair slipping from his bun, “Answer me, sweetheart,” he orders, as he presses mean fingers to part your thighs for him, surely leaving bruises with how hard he’s holding your soft flesh.

“I did,” you can’t manage the words to tell him who — how can you tell him his best friend fucked you? That you let Satoru fuck you the night you found out he left. It was one thing for him to cheat with a random person, it’s another for you to go and sleep with his best friend, “Suguru, please—”

“Mouth or fingers?” and you swear, despite them not speaking, they still share the same dumbass brain cell—

“What the fuck does it matte—” and your words are cut off by Suguru slipping in two fingers at once into your leaking cunt, fucking you meanly as he watched your mouth fall open, head tilted back as your hips jerked against him, desperate for more. His fingers curled as they fucked your hole open with rapid thrusts, the squelch of your cunt going straight to your head and straight to his already hard cock.

“It fucking matters because this is my pussy, isn’t it, baby? I fucked it first, I fucked it best, and I need to know what others did while I was gone, don’t I?” and a third joins the other two, pulling another moan from your lips,“but if you won’t tell me, I’ll just use both, fuck you with all five fingers and tongue if that’s what you want to do,”

“Sugu—” you’re already so fuckin’ close, your walls shuddering around his cock, “I’m—“ and he stops moving, smiling down at your open mouth twisting in a scowl, “fuck—“

“That’s what we’re trying to do, baby, but I’m not gonna let you cum that easy,” he coos, his curled lips leaning down to lap at your cunt, warm tongue dragging up your clit, before sucking lightly, making you squirm, “tell me you want me,”

“Your fucking ego—“ and he’s plunging three fingers into your messy entrance, making you gasp — god, you hated how good he felt — his fingers bullying your insides with practiced ease, “Sugu— please—“ as his tongue teases your clit, flicking it, before his teeth nibble at it. You’re squirming in earnest now, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers and tongue.

He laughs, pulling his mouth from your cunt, lips glossy with your pre-cum,“How quick you’re going from cussing me out to begging me to cum,” you don’t care anymore — you need to cum, “tell me what you want, Princess,”

“Need to cum, please, please, Sugu—ah—“ and he’s sinking one more finger in you, before his lips close around your clit and suck, hard. Your back arches as something in you snaps, as the squelching and slurping of his fingers and sucking send you over the edge. You flood his mouth and fingers with your cum, squirting all over him, as he eats you out and fucks you through your orgasm, groaning as you clench around his tongue and fingers. Your thighs shake and quiver in his grip, fingers holding you still in place, as he keeps overstimulating you, “too much, can’t—“ you cry out, shaking your head, but he’s not relenting until you feel something build in again — more and more, until his fingers find that one spot in you that has you silently screaming as you cum again, even harder than the first. You’re soaked — soaked the sheets through, chest rising and falling as the pleasure ebbs away, tears slipping down your cheeks, folds fluttering as he pulls his fingers out.

His breath warms your dripping cunt, lips glossy and eyes dark, groaning as he watches your cum slip from inside you, as he looks up at you with a dark, half lidded gaze, “So fucking good for me, even hotter when you cry,” he’s licking his lips clean of your cum, before he’s pressing the pads of his fingers into your open mouth, “clean them f’me, baby,” and your tongue swirls around him obediently without question, pretty eyes glassy with tears making his rock hard cock twitch in his pants, “good girl,”

And he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth, before leaning up and pulling off his black sweater, the click of his belt as he kicks off his pants, your eyes glued to his thick cock — he was thicker than Satoru, so pretty too — black pubes groomed, nearly pressed against his stomach.

“Always so desperate for my cock, aren’t you, Princess? I’ll let you clean your cum off of it after, but I have to have you first — got to reclaim what’s mine,” and he’s dragging his cock against your clit.

You gasp, twitching against him, but more than the pleasure, the guilt creeps in — flashes of Satoru from the night before with hands over your hips and thighs, and you had kept quiet about your life from the time you spent away. You had done your best to stay away from Suguru, even though you knew he hadn’t exactly done the same — asking Shoko questions, for pictures, for any scrap of you.

And you couldn’t lie — not about this.

“Suguru,” and he’s pausing, eyes meeting yours with a flash of concern, but the words tumble out with warning, just the way he had done with you, “I slept with Satoru,”

And he’s silent — emotions roll in and out on his face — confusion, hurt, anger, and acceptance — they all fall away as he’s only staring off to the side, unable to even look at you. Words fall away, stopped in your mouth after the bitter truth that’s left it and you wonder — is it over now? Seconds feel like hours — your fingers curl into the sheets, looking for something to hang onto, to ground you. Why did he have to start this? You were fine with the burnt ashes of the love he had scorched over, but now he started a fire, and you didn’t want to put it out. You didn’t want to go out.

You didn’t want him to go.

But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes finally find yours for a moment, before he’s kissing you again and again and again, bruising kisses that slaughter any sense of logic and words from you — but his message is clear, he doesn’t wanna talk, especially as his hand reaches does to brush his aching tip against you, smearing his pre-cum over the length of you.

And he’s sinking into you, and somehow you’re still so tight around him, “Fuck,” he hisses, the first word that leaves his mouth, “did Satoru not fuck you right last night?” and your lips part as he thrusts harshly and smoothly, bottoming out with one single movement, “still as tight as when I took your virginity, aren’t you, baby?”

“Suguru,” you’re so full, he’s so thick, and these last few weeks without him almost had your cunt forgetting what he felt like filling you — his hands gripping your thighs to press them back against your stomach, as he pulls back only to slam back in, making you head loll back, “s’good, s’full,” it’s all you can feel, all you can think about, was him, just him.

“That’s right, I’m the only one who can fill you like this, the only one that makes you feel this good,” the sounds of his hips slapping against you send more heat flooding downward, as he grunts, watching himself piston in and out of you, “take me s’well, my good girl, mine,” he growls, “squeezing me so tight, never want me to leave this sweet cunt, do you?” your thighs shake as he presses them back, balls slapping against your ass, as he only sinks deeper and deeper, “could fuck you all night, don’t hide that face from me,” he’s forcing you to hold his gaze as he fucks you — your glassy eyes blown out with pleasure, your kiss ruined lips parted for him as you panted and moaned, forehead glossy with sweat, “wanna watch you cum around my cock, wanna see you scream my name, pretty baby,”

His hand slides behind your ass, grabbing a fistful and finding a better angle before slamming back in, and with his filthy words, its enough to have you cumming with his name on your lips, “Sugu—fuck, Suguru!” your voice goes to a pitch you didn’t know it could reach. Toes curling as your gummy walls swallow him in, your pretty mouth forms an ‘o’ and he grunts, imagining those lips around his cock, his thrusts growing sloppy as he fucked you through your orgasm. His dick was soaked, his precum mixing with your cum.

But he wasn’t done yet.

He’s slapping your clit, making you jolt, as he’s still pressed inside you, “Sloppy fucking girl, I know you have one more for me,” and you’re so fucked out, he’s guiding your legs around his lower back and hips, making you gasp, “gonna cum in this perfect princess cunt,”

“Sugu, can’t, It’s too muc—” you nearly sob, but he’s already fucking you, thrusting again and again. And it doesn’t take long for another orgasm to build, already far too sensitive from your last. It’s too much — the feeling of his hips slapping against yours, the feeling of his cock twitching inside your walls, the small moans that your tight cunt pull from his lips, and when his tip brushes against that perfect spot, as his thumb bears down on your clit — it’s too much. You see stars as you cum again, even harder, the loud squelch as he fucks you still pulls a deep groan from his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby, gonna make a mess of you, fill you up,” he’s grunting, and you’re only nodding and moaning “yes,” still fucked out from your orgasms, but it’s enough for him notch himself deep in you and cum, painting your womb white, as he spurts his seed inside you.

And his hips stutter, as he eases your legs down, still shaking and quivering from being fucked, and he rubs them, as you pant, his fingers then reaching to wipe your tears, as he eases himself out, groaning as he watched your mixed cums leak out of your cunt.

“Suguru,” you murmur, and he’s leaning over you, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, and your hand reaches for him, cupping his cheek, “I love you,” and you do — you always loved him, you always would — there was never anyone else. Only him. But the words can’t find their way out of your mouth, sleep calling for your attendance, as your fingers run through his hair, pulling his hair tie off, and carding their way through his long hair, “I love the long hair,” you hum, eyes fluttering and heavy with sleep.

“Do you?” His voice is gravelly, as he leans down, his lips finding your own for moment, before reaching for a bath towel you had slung over your metal bed frame, as he cleans you up, “how much?”

“Too much, Sugu,” he chuckles softly, as he finishes cleaning you and himself up, pressing soft kisses to your thighs, as he moves to get up and put the towel in the hamper — your hand catches him by the wrist, “Don’t go,”

And his gaze softens, as he shakes his head, “I’m just taking this to the hamper, I’ll come back to bed,” and your lips form an unfairly cute pout, but you relent, letting him walk away to the bathroom to dispose of the towel, and when he comes back, you’re already asleep, curled up.

He stands in the doorway, watching your chest rise and fall — and he’s walking over, pulling your comforter over your body, as he holds it open for himself, pausing, only to let it fall and settle on your side.

He couldn’t ask you to come with him. Couldn’t whisper those words in the night, because you couldn’t save him from the dark — not you, not Satoru, not a single person. Because he wasn’t cut out to live in this world with a smile on his face — and you always deserved to have one on your lips. And Satoru could do that for you. Not him.

It was never him. He was never good enough — his fingers trace over your cheek, pressing another kiss to your forehead — not for the jujutsu world, and not for you.

And he turns to leave, sparing a single glance at you — but he’d make a place for him. And maybe for you — make a world that’s safe for them to live in. Where he didn’t have to watch you join the other bodies piled up around him.

He’s pulling the door shut to your apartment softly, his key left on the table.

It was over.

~~~

“You’re late again, as usual,” Suguru smiles, slumping down against a wall, “Satoru,”

“The ones in Kyoto, they were under your command?”

“Yes, they all were,” he sways, holding his shoulder, he didn’t have much time left — he couldn’t feel anything, even as he held his wound, he felt nothing — no pain, no anger, no hatred, “no matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys,” and his thumb brushes lightly over his shoulder, “but I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High School,”

“Did you not? Could’ve surprised me,” and his head turns slowly behind Satoru, and he sees you — sees you for the first time in a decade. Even at his visit to Jujutsu High, you weren’t around — away on a mission, just as he had intended.

Satoru only sighs, sparing you a glance, “I told you not to come here—”

“And I told you that I needed to see him,” you brush past Satoru, kneeling by Suguru — and he can’t take his eyes off of you — he had seen pictures, ones he had his twins take (not wanting those money grubbing monkeys to have even an image of you), and he saw you had done quite well for yourself after he had left. A teacher, just like Satoru — trying to foster a new generation of sorcerers — he was right, you were just like him, weren’t you? And he watches as your brow furrows, scanning over his injuries, gears grinding, but he has to halt them right then and there.

“There’s no saving me now, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, “but you know that already, don’t you?” he takes an unsteady breath, leaning back against the wall, his eyes falling over you again, “still so beautiful — how’s that possible?”

“Not beautiful to stick around for though, am I?” your words aren’t laced with bitterness so much as it’s a question, a question of why he had left you. Why did he never had come back.

“But beautiful enough to always stay faithful to,” his words are soft, “I don’t have many regrets, not any at all truly in retrospect, but I did lie to you about cheating—”

“I know,” your hand uses your sleeve to clean some of the blood on his face, scarlet on your palm, “I realized once I thought about it — and I’ve had plenty of time to think about you, Suguru,” your fingers trace his jawline softly, “because thoughts were all you left me with,”

“Not all I left you with,” his eyes slide back to Satoru and back to you, lips curled in a smile, “you two were always more better suited than I ever was to you, princess,”

“Suguru—” Satoru starts, but Suguru is shaking his head.

“It’s rude to interrupt a person’s last words, Satoru,” he clicks his tongue, and his lips curl as he finds your gaze again, your eyes glassy, “don’t look like that, sweetheart,”

“Suguru, why did you have to leave?” and he’s shaking his head slowly, resting it against the wall behind him.

“Because I didn’t belong there — I couldn’t live in this world with a real smile on my face,” and his hand reaches for you, but stops, falling back to his shoulder, and tears slip down your cheeks, “but with you, I came close,” he murmurs, and he knew it was time, “Satoru,” and that’s all he had to say to have Satoru start to pull you away.

“No, no, please—” you’re shaking your head, trying to push past Satoru, but you slump in his arms, “I love you, Suguru, I always will,”

And he gives a small chuckle, lips curled in that smile that always damned you — “At least curse me at the end,”

But you never could, as you step away, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear the distant splatter of blood. And you knew — you knew you would have stayed forever, stayed with him forever, if he only had told you not to go.

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

The two of you bury him, somewhere secluded, where no one would find him. The cold ground was hell to dig up, but the two of you managed somehow, each shovelful feeling like a funeral march with no end in sight. Neither of you could bear the thought of his body being poked and probed for its secrets, before being burned, turned to the ash and smoke, the very same he had left your lives in when he had torched it all to the ground. But even so, you couldn’t bear it — and as you look at the mound before you, you want to claw his body up — dig him up as if it would bring him back to life, pull whatever being or force out of the sky and make them give him back.

But you can’t — it’s over.

Satoru’s hand finds your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, burying your face in his chest, as he holds you tight to his chest. And he’s leading you away from Suguru, a single flower left over his grave, as the cold air freezes the tear stains left on your cheeks.

It’s over now. It was over now, right? Right?

And it was.

Until Shibuya.

a/n: this was supposed to be 3K, and ended up being over 10K. story of my life. this fic is thematically sponsored by 1989 (taylor's version), in particular, the vault tracks that helped me write this. you can literally spot lyric references almost throughout the entire thing

tag list: @ghostkonigkeegan141, @lightblueexorcist, @aemondseyesocket, @lemonpoppy-seed, @stran-dedforyou, @tiaraqueen123, @sun-daddy-yoriichi, @grooveandshit, @prettyabc, @kaskasi, @moranguitosz, @haunting-venus, @ninneko19, @psychicai, @d1rtv, @forest-fruits-jam, @katie91239, @dud3vil, @robynnikole151, @ivory-cove, @ohbi-the-way, @numbinyourchest, @dabisdolly, @kal0pssiaa, @glaceliy, @3atinguout, @iovesatoru, @imthebestbye-blog, @michelleeveline, @ichikanu, @ummcumfurtable, @collectionofdolls, @auraeum, @reesesnieces, @goldfishsmemory, @itshobiscussposts

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aloesarchives · 5 months

Text

Two for the Price of One (JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Profanity, NOT POLY SATOSUGU X READER, Fem Reader and She/Her pronouns, ANGST, Angst for Satoru and Reader, Bittersweet ending for Suguru and Reader, HIGHKEY MISCOMMUNICATION, Possible OOC Satoru, abandonment issues if you squint really hard, Reader slowly losing herself, Reader feeling depression/hopeless(implicit), Reader's has a healthy dynamic with her clan

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader/Suguru Geto x Fem!Reader

AU: Canon

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader's clan has a unrealistic healthy and understanding relationship with her)

Word Count: 6.1k words

Summary: Gojo's lack of coping caused you to drift away and eventually depart after Suguru's defection from Jujutsu Society.

(A/N): I know it doesn't make sense and will make many frustrated with how dumb this is. I just wanted to write my emotions out with this one, okay? I know this wouldn't slide but I'm a sucker for these scenarios. Edit: Since I've been getting positive reactions from you guys, I decided to take out the cringe/unrealistic out of the warning/tws lists. I truly love and appreciate you, loves!❤️

[!!Semi-edited & Proofread!!! 2/8/2024 4:04pm CST]

It was hard on all of you.

More so for you and Satoru.

Ever since Geto’s massacre and defection, the higher-ups and Jujutsu society have been scrambling to get the chaos under control. Having a special grade user become a curse user was sounding red alarms as there was an immediate threat to present-day Jujutsu sorcery.

You knew something was up with Suguru. You did; your observation wouldn’t allow things to go unnoticed. It was a bit here and there, but never a significant concern. You tried coaxing him gradually to open up to you, but your efforts were fruitless. No bells were ringing until the post-Plasma Star Vessel incident. You felt the shift in Suguru’s aura; you noticed his lifeless stare—the growing dark circles around his eyes surrounding the tiny flicker of life left inside.

You tried being there for Suguru. You did anything and everything to accompany him and not leave him alone. It was selfish of you. To be desperate for your best friend to lean on you for support and not to go down a destructive path. You became even more worried when Haibara returned cold with a frustrated and traumatized Nanami. It was becoming more evident of Suguru’s deteriorating condition, you to confide in Shoko and even Yaga-sensei.

Grief is like love, a twisted parasitic curse. Even though a year has passed, your grief was a malevolent spirit that latched itself onto your shoulders with a vice grip. A bitter reminder of how Suguru never said goodbye to you. He technically did with Satoru. But it was more of him telling Satoru that he was severing ties with Jujutsu Society by questioning him with his newfound powers. All you got from Suguru was a simple letter Shoko gave you at your dorm. She was with you as you read it. Tear droplets stained the paper, words smeared, and became unreadable. Out of pure frustration, you ripped the paper in half—the tearing of paper cut through the sickening silence. Shoko hugged you as you sobbed in the aftermath. While you were mourning the loss of your friend and your lives together, you were also mourning your life after this would never be the same. It would only get worse from here.

Satoru is tossed onto multiple missions left and right, never catching a break.

And there was you, trying to return to your regular school life. Or how every day can it be now? One of your best friends just murdered an entire village and his parents, and the other one is overworking himself to the very bone. Shoko being there for you was a surprising one, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Given that she was the first one Suguru said goodbye to, she understood his actions.

The problem was trying to tell Satoru about it, but he would brush it off, saying that maybe it was the change in weather or sickness. When you tried to explain there was more to it, Satoru would wave his hand at you, saying,

“You’re overthinking too much, (Y/N)-chan! I’m sure Suguru is fine. We just have to give him some time.”

Though the tone was light-hearted, it provided no comfort. You know Satoru was suffering as well. Individuals process trauma differently, after all. You were seeing this first hand.

Satoru was overcompensating to the world of Jujutsu with his enlightenment, overworking himself and burying his pain through that charismatic mask he now dons. Suguru is the most common one: Insomnia, isolation, and depression. He slowly became a lifeless husk. On the other hand, you were coping by trying to move forward while acting like a rock for them. Despite the hard transition, you didn’t deny your trauma as you slowly worked to process and navigate through it. You had the support of Shoko, your teacher, and even your clan/family stepped in to support your mental health endeavors. They went as far as providing you with a therapist, who was also a sorcerer.

But you all were suffering in silence.

A year has passed since Suguru left, and you were getting by. You, Shoko, and Satoru would graduate in the third year and officially become Jujutsu Sorcerers. Yet, at this point, it felt more like only you and Shoko. Satoru still attended class and hung out, but missions mainly preoccupied his school life. He recently returned from Hokkaido, only to be sent out again. This time, however, it was somewhere in Western Europe. That’s on the other side of the world. It would only be for a week, but still. You wanted him to rest or take a break, as he never did– not since the incident.

He wouldn’t be leaving for another seven days, so you had enough time to be with him. Yet it was challenging because Satoru didn’t let up. The ravine he created kept opening, the distance stretching far and deep, pushing you away.

Just like Suguru.

You didn’t want to lose Satoru. You almost did, becoming a grim reminder of how much you cared for Satoru Suguru. To fall for your best friend was a betrayal. You didn’t mean it, but Satoru did things that made your heart warm and fluttered. Suguru was the first to catch on; he saw your crush a mile away. Confiding in Suguru about it, you found solace in his words– feeding into an enviable delusion.

Unbeknownst to you, Suguru's eyes were able to hide his longing for you as you rambled about Satoru and your latest hangout together. Suguru always thought you and Satoru had a special connection—your two powerful chemistry and how you bounce off each other. He presumed Satoru had mutual feelings, but nothing was said. Once he left, he knew you had his heart. There was no space for anyone else to fill it but you. And Suguru was more than willing to live with reality. If the girl who gave his life light is with his best friend, so be it. He would settle with the heartache as long as you were happy.

But you weren’t happy at all.

Over time, you started questioning whether the life of a Jujutsu Sorcerer was worth it. Yes, you were born into the world of Jujutsu, and it has been your whole life. But the last two years radically changed that. You were already exposed to this life's dangers and cruelty; prepare to face it head-on no matter what. Yet second thoughts became third thoughts. Then, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. The more you challenge your initial mindset, the more doubts seep into its cracks.

Why should I continue when I am nothing more than a placeholder in this world?

How can I save everyone if I can’t save one person?

Where is the meaning in all of this if I’ll just die alone and be replaced and forgotten?

Was this endless cycle of Jujutsu Sorcery even worth it?

You wondered if Suguru shared the same thoughts to push him to his decision. Now, you don’t blame him for leaving at all. It was grime. It was depravity. It was futile. You only stayed because you had your clan. You had Yaga-sensei and Shoko. But most of all, you had Satoru to shoulder the burdens of the Jujutsu world.

That’s. . .what you thought. . .

You decided to go to Satoru’s dorm to check up on him. Maybe squeeze a hangout in there. Gently knocking, you hope he was there since you couldn’t sense him around the campus. There was faint shuffling on the other side, signaling he was. You softly call out to him as you knock again. Once opened, Satoru greeted you in his school uniform. You found it odd since he’d switched to his comfortable clothes after school hours.

“Hi, Toru! I just came by to see how you’re doing. The mochi store we always go to releases its seasonal flavors today! Why don’t you come with me? I heard one of your favorites returned, so I didn’t want you to miss it.”

“I appreciate the thought, (Y/N). But not today, I’m sorry.” Satoru said with a smile.

You couldn’t pinpoint his smile, tittering on, sad and strained. A tinge of uneasiness settled inside your heart, but you still wore your smile to not let it surface.

“C’mon, Toru! You don’t know if they will sell out today. Plus, the weather is great. I heard some festivals with food stands are opening up because of that. It wouldn’t hurt to go out just this once, Satoru.”

Satoru’s smile disappears at your insistence, replacing it with a fine line. His mood change didn’t sit well with you. You had previous attempts to get Satoru to care for himself. However, this is different from all your others because the band that holds your desperation began to wane itself thin. Your solid composure falters in bits. Your bright aura slowly dimmed as your now chapped lips twitched.

“Satoru, I know that you’re busy. Always on missions, meeting the higher-ups, your clan needing you more than ever, you have your hands tied. But it wouldn’t be too much just to enjoy yourself. Just come with me today before you go to Europe next week. It’s been a while since we hung out together.”

“Look (Y/N), I don’t really have time for this. I need to head out now, or it will get dark. Maybe another time–”

Then something inside of you snaps. You didn’t know whether it was your desperation or uneasiness, but assumed both because your facade crumbles to reveal your emotions.

“You always say later, Satoru, but never do! You haven’t taken a break in months! You’ve gotten paler, and your under-eyes are darker than before! You’re pushing yourself too hard and beginning to neglect yourself. Toru, Please! I’m worried about you! You know I can always help you–”

“For the love of God, (Y/N)! Can you STOP TALKING?! GOD, YOUR VOICE MAKES MY EARS BLEED! LIKE HELL YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND MY RESPONSIBILITIES!”

It was never your intention to snap. But the way Satoru was acting paralleled Suguru. Eat, sleep, and go on missions. It was always those three, the same ones Suguru was subjected to that became a factor in his defection. Satoru was caught in the vicious cycle that pushed Suguru over the edge.

On top of your crippling fear of Satoru sharing the same fate as Suguru, Déjà vu struck you. Desperation emerged from within as you didn’t want to lose him, breaking your resolve before him. Desperation was fear in another form.

You weren’t the only one to reach a breaking point. Satoru snapped as well and at you, of all people. You guessed it was from all the stress and emotions he bottled up that exploded there. What Satoru was experiencing was valid and understandable; you knew this. Yet to blow up at you was uncalled for as you made it clear you’re only helping. Your eyes sting as you feel the formation of tears ready themselves, biting the inside of your bottom lip to keep your voice from breaking.

“B-but. . .Satoru. . .I w-was only trying to–” You stuttered out, forcibly pushing out words to fill the silence.

“Help? You were trying to help, (Y/N)?”

Once saying that Satoru let out a sarcastic laughter that could be mistaken for madness. Horror took over your face. Pain-filled eyes were glossed over, showing your tears could spill at any moment. His laughter abruptly stopped, making it so quiet that only your staggered breathing could be heard. He meets his eyes with yours with the most disdain you have ever seen.

“Do you think you could help when you’re just dead weight? You thought you were on par with Suguru and me. Get that out of your stupid little head of yours (Y/N). You were never strong like us.”

“You don’t mean that, right, Satoru?” You said incredulity as you reached out for him. Only for your hand to freeze before him, not going any further. A chill flashed over you, adding to the aching that enveloped your soul.

Did he– Did he just use his infinity on you?

“Oh, but I do. Now, I need to be somewhere. Do yourself a favor, (Y/N), and don’t bother me with your weak presence.”

And before you knew it, Satoru was already gone. He had used his teleportation to get to where he was needed. Leaving you alone with the door to his dorm wide open. The sounds of the crickets took over. They were paired with your small sniffles, furiously wiping away your nonstop tears.

Were you weak to him?

Have you really been holding everyone back?

Were you that much of a nuisance to him?

Is this how Satoru really felt about you?

Has he always felt this way?

You never saw utter detest and contempt from Satoru. Your previous interactions had him irritated or annoyed, but never like this. This was the first time Satoru had blown up on you, let alone given you such a reaction. Before, you’d repeatedly remind him of your support and help. But it always ends the same way, pushing you away. After what happened, this will be the last time you’d do this for him.

You were once told that you can’t help someone if they aren’t reaching out for help. And this was a bitter example of it. Your efforts in having Satoru lean on you bore nothing. What’s the point in continuing this if nothing changes after multiple attempts?

You were tired, drained, and indifferent. Your tears keep falling as you enter your dorm, not even stopping as the sound of nature lulls you to sleep.

You let two days pass to let Satoru calm down and give him space. No interactions or anything to pass some time. You would try to contact him for the next four days after that. But your texts were left unanswered and on read. When you tried calling, your call went straight to voicemail. He blocked your phone number, too.

The weight of your doubts and Satoru’s words the other day are fueling your impulsivity. If Satoru called you weak and dead weight, other sorcerers would think so, too. If you become a thorn in their side, you’re doing them a favor by pulling yourself out for them. Even if Satoru didn’t mean it, you knew there was some truth to it because he kept his infinity up. You could never forget how his blue eyes lit through his pitch-dark glasses as he spoke down at you. Giving away that he was conscious and level-headed when he said those words.

You were losing the war against your intrusive mind. Your doubts and thoughts gradually solidified in your consciousness. In the course of time, they won and consumed your psyche.

If becoming a jujutsu sorcerer would get in the way of others, then being a sorcerer wasn’t for you.

With your last attempts to contact Satoru, you have made your decision. A day before Satoru departs for Europe, you decide to pay your clan head a visit. It was sudden and unannounced; nonetheless, they allowed an audience with you.

They let you speak your mind, allowing whatever you need to be released and run free without judgment. Thus, you confided in them about everything.

This was too much; all of it was too much for you to bear any longer. You couldn’t see yourself as a sorcerer any longer after dealing with what you had experienced. Every day was a battle for you, and you lost every single one. You admitted you didn’t have what’s left of you it in you to shoulder the responsibilities of the Jujutsu world. You didn’t want the life of a jujutsu sorcerer anymore. You wanted one of peace, not having to fight every day. To enjoy the rest of your days as a regular civilian.

Confiding also in missing Suguru dearly and how his departure left a hole in your heart that could never be healed. You weren’t strong enough to face the horrors and hardships anymore and wish to live a peaceful life.

Although your clan head was shocked at your confession, they were understanding and asked if this was something you truly wanted. An unwavering ‘Yes’ left you, and your clan head nodded. They gave you a choice: to go after graduation in a few weeks or leave now. If you leave now, they will deal with the rest as you finish the important schoolwork. It was just a waiting game with missions sprinkled throughout.

You could wait before leaving, but that’s wasting time. If you weren’t going to continue your life here, you might as well get a headstart now in your new one. You finalize your decision with the head. They said they would have some members pick up your stuff from your dorms tomorrow morning, but you said it wouldn’t be much. As you took your leave, you told them you would keep in touch with the clan.

“What are your plans for what happens next, (Y/N)?” They curiously asked with your back facing them.

“Hmm, I don’t know exactly. But I have an idea, (Clan Head’s Name). Thank you for everything that you’ve done.”

With a reassuring voice, you turn to respectfully bow before leaving their room. Though they never said it out loud, they saw how your eyes were soft, like tremendous pressure was relieved from your body.

Thinking about it as you leave the estate, you never mentioned your fight with Satoru. Though it wouldn’t change anything. That night, you packed your dorm in your suitcase. Only leave your bedsheets, a pillow, and a few desk appliances behind. Your closet and drawers were empty of any clothes you had. By 10 a.m. tomorrow, any trace left of you would be gone. As you write a letter to whoever finds it about your whereabouts, your thoughts return to Suguru. To playfully think he did the exact same thing before his defection.

You looked at your school uniform as it hung on your door. You contemplated taking it with you but decided against it. You wanted no strings left attached when you leave the world of Jujutsu Sorcery.

Morning came as you stared at the room you once called your own. The remainder of your things are packed in cardboard boxes for your clan members to get later. You glance back over to your desk as your school uniform is neatly folded on top of it. Your lips are graced with a sentimental smile as you close the door one last time.

As you walked along the campus, fleeting memories of your days here flooded your mind. You reminisced on the areas and places you spent your youth with your friends and classmates. Now you’re leaving Jujutsu Tech and the Jujutsu World forever. Never to come back. You get to the main entrance of the school.

Before taking another step, you sensed someone behind you.

“So you're leaving, too, (Y/N)?”

It was Shoko.

“Yeah. . . Shoko. I’m going. . .”

She blows out a large smoke cloud from her cigarette, giving you a blank look before sending you a smile.

“At least say goodbye to me. . .I don’t blame you for going. . .” Shoko adds as she holds out her arms. You chuckle at her gesture and give her a hug. By the slight firm grip you felt, she didn’t want you to go, but she couldn’t stop you either.

Once you break away from the hug, you remember something and fish out a folded paper in your bag. You handed it to Shoko, and she eyed it curiously.

“I was going to leave it in my dorm for someone to find, but I thought it would work better if I gave this to you if I ran into it on my way out. My clan is sending members to get the last of my things, so I won’t return to my dorm. Sorry I had to make you the messenger again, Shoko.” You bittersweetly said.

You find it ironic that your departure is similar to Suguru’s. Shoko is the first to see you two go while giving her a letter for the others to read. You laugh as you think this over.

Oh, how history repeats itself.

Shoko tucks away your letter before taking a drag from her smoke.

“Does he know about this?”

You knew she was referring to Satoru. You shook your head no, still have a small smile.

“No, unfortunately. Satoru and I got into a arg– disagreement a few days ago. I don’t know if he’s okay with me to begin with, as cowardly to say. The only ones that know are you and my clan head.”

She hums at your response before going for another drag.

“Your phone number still the same?”

“I don’t really plan on changing my phone number. Even if I do, I’ll text you the new number so you can give it to the others.”

“I see. . .See you around, (Y/N). Keep in touch, will ya?”

“I will. I’ll see you around then. Bye, Shoko.”

Giving Shoko one last hug, you wave goodbye as you leave Jujutsu’s High entrance, disappearing from view. Not daring to look back because regret might come if you did.

Shoko watches from afar, her cigarette being halfway done. She takes one last puff before extinguishing it with the bottom of her shoe. She looks at your letter. The paper was crisp with no wrinkles like it had been fresh from the printer. From this, Shoko knew you had written it recently, no hesitation evident on the page itself. Unlike Suguru’s, her fingers tighten on your letter as she sighs while entering the school.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“What brings you here? He’s a busy man.”

“I’m just an old acquaintance of his. Just a simple chat. It won’t take long, I promise.”

The pretty attendant raises a brow at you as she guides you to one of the rooms. She looks you up and down before facing forward again.

“You have a substantial amount of curse energy. You have a curse technique then; aren’t you a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“I…used to be…but not anymore…I chose to leave that life. I’m just a civilian that has a curse technique.”

You see the attendant smile out of the corner of your eye at your answer.

“I see. Geto-sama will be happy to take audience with you then.”

You shouldn’t be here. You knew that. Walking in taboo territory could get you hunted down by the very society you were born into. It’s not a secret of Suguru’s position as both a curse user and a cult leader. You remember hearing about him reforming a cult that worshiped Tengan but dissolved after the incident. You found it interesting he hasn’t done collateral damage yet. No incidents or missions revolving around curses terrorizing civilians. Perhaps he was going for something on a larger scale, you thought.

But you missed Suguru dearly. Not in a sentimental reminiscing way. More as in yearning for him entirely. Everyone tells you it’s not the same with Suguru gone, obviously. Yeah, but Suguru plagued your mind after his defection. You want nothing more than to see him again. Yes, things couldn’t go back to the way they were. But you didn’t like the prospects of what your future would hold if you stayed.

You disagreed with Suguru ridding the world of non-sorcerers. But you also understand and agree the current Jujutsu system is a dumpster fire that will never work. At the end of the day, only those the higher-ups favor will get to stay while the rest are sent off to die. You didn’t want to take part in that. You valued your life to know it shouldn’t be tossed around so easily by some dementia geezers who can’t even fight. And yet, you felt a tinge of regret for not staying to fix or break the system. Your only option was to leave and not involve yourself anymore.

The attendant takes you to the room, saying he will arrive shortly. Leaving you alone, you felt your heart race. You hope Suguru doesn’t kill you because he can sense your curse energy. Yet his letter was heartfelt and raw. His apology and the paragraphs after them were for you and you alone, like a confession. Even though you ripped the letter, you keep the two halves. Strangely enough, there was an address and a few words at the bottom of the page.

‘You know where to find me.’

Here you are, waiting for him with the same letter he sent. As you wait, you can feel his energy get closer. You stare down, kneeling, the letter shaking like a leaf in your hands.

Then the door opens.

You let out a small gasp, not daring to look up as the footsteps approach his seat. A soft chuckle fills the room as you keep your head low.

“I thought I was mistaken when I felt your curse energy. But I now know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Please, lift your head so I can see you (Y/N).”

Your gaze meets Suguru’s soft eyes and warm smile. Both genuine and kind. His eyes widen before returning back to soft when he sees the tears trickling down for your lovely eyes he could get lost in. You stumble to stand, practically pouncing at Suguru. His embrace was like gates opening for you and closing once you entered. You softly sob into his robes as he holds you tightly. Comforting you by gently rubbing your back and hair, giving a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you so much, Suguru!” was all you said before you continued to sniffle and hiccup into him.

Suguru hums as he pulls away to better view your face. You felt self-conscious as he lovingly gazed at you. Your nose and cheeks were raw from crying, and your eyes became an irritated red. Suguru smiles, wiping away your endless tears with his thumb.

“Oh, (Y/N). I’m sorry for leaving you behind. You understand, don’t you? From my letter?”

You nodded to respond. Holding the paper in front of Suguru. He notices the tear stains and ink smudges from the words he wrote down.

“I would’ve told you in person, (Y/N). Believe me. But I couldn't once they announced my charges. You would’ve been questioned as a possible accomplice. I didn’t want that for you. Do you know what it means for you to see me now?”

“Yes, I’m aware. But I left of my own accord; it wasn’t just for you, Suguru. I wouldn’t be able to last long if I stayed. So I decided to go, leaving it behind, all of it.”

He was a bit puzzled by what you meant. But it didn’t take long for him to piece it himself. Suguru figured something happened between you and Satoru but decided to stay silent out of respect. You both stare with relief and tenderness. Suguru gingerly takes your hand and places a light kiss on your knuckles. You set your unoccupied hand on his cheek, quietly giggling as Suguru leans into your delicate touch. He sighed in contentment. Bring your hand up again to kiss it as he wraps his free arm around your waist. His sincere smile radiates down onto you.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, (Y/N).”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru was in a better mood today than before.

Satoru cooled off his head after a couple of days from when he made that outburst at you. He was stressed and tired of being continuously sent out on missions, and you did make a point that he hasn’t taken a break in months. He remembered what he said to you that evening, which made him feel guilty.

He knows he hasn’t been around because the higher-ups have sent him out like a work dog. It was now you and Shoko with him. The stabilization you two had on him once Suguru left.

You’ve been only trying to help him for a long time. Being there for him in your own way while coaxing him to hang out. Yet he took it for granted and said some vile things because his bucket decided to overflow then out of all the times it shouldn’t. You didn’t deserve that. You also didn’t deserve the silent treatment he gave you. He saw your text messages and listened to the voicemails you left. He did not answer because he was too prideful and stubborn to admit he was stressed and hurt you like that.

But sitting with his emotions and reflecting on how stupid he is for prioritizing his ego, he decided to cut down his pride and make it up to you. He unblocked your number and was going to call you. But he chose to just surprise you instead he chickened out. Satoru knew the European mission was a nuisance to his plans, so he had already taken care of it. By that, Satoru somehow teleported himself to where he needed to be in Europe, slayed the high-level curses, retrieved some curse objects, reported what he did, and teleported back to Japan in four hours.

He did all this at the last minute on the sixth day before Satoru was supposed to leave. He did this to stay and spend the whole week with you, make up for lost time, and give a proper apology.

Now, Satoru was strolling through Jujutsu Tech. He whistles as he holds a bouquet of (favorite flowers), a box with a (favorite color) bracelet with (favorite designs/charms), and a bag of mochi and daifuku for you two to share together. He walks around the grounds, trying to search you. He was told no classes today, so he went to your favorite spots. You weren’t anywhere.

‘Huh, that’s strange. (Y/N) would usually be in those places when class is not in session. I wonder where she could be.’

Satoru thought about dropping by your dorm but figured you were with Shoko. On the other hand, he couldn’t sense Shoko around either until Satoru felt it alongside Yaga-sensei. He sensed them in Yaga’s building, so he headed there.

Blissfully unaware of what would await him.

Satoru clutches your gifts to one side as he opens the door to enter. His six eyes hadn’t kicked in yet, but something in the air felt off. His sun smile hasn’t dropped yet as he scans around, wondering why the two were quiet when he entered.

“Yo, Yaga-sensei, Shoko! I’ve been trying to look for you guys. By any chance know where (Y/N) is so I can give these to her?”

He looks at his teacher, and Satoru’s demeanor instantly changes. There, Yaga stood with his glasses off, clutching a piece of paper with a stern frown. Satoru turns to Shoko, a somber expression replacing her lighthearted one. Satoru just looked back and forth between the two before his eyes settled on the paper in his teacher’s hand. Satoru stands stunned, hearing his heartbeat in his ears grow louder and louder. The air from his lungs disappeared as realization dawned on him.

Satoru clenched his teeth as he teleported to your dorm room, the clap resonating throughout the hall. He burst open your dorm door, and to his horror, your room was empty. The room was stripped of everything that made it yours. The closet and drawers were emptied, and your desk and bed were bare of anything from you. What used to be your dorm is now an empty dorm room, ready for the next person to claim it. He frantically looks around in hopes of finding any reminds of you.

Then, he spotted your old Jujutsu High uniform, laying neatly on top of your old desk. Satoru just stares, not daring to pick it up. Because if he did, he would’ve broken down. He can’t stay there anymore, to which he teleports back. He bears his pearly white teeth as he closes in on his teacher.

“Where the hell is (Y/N)?” Satoru lowly said.

“Gone, Satoru–”

“I know she’s gone! But where?! Why the hell is all her stuff gone?! Her room is completely empty!”

“Satoru,” Yaga tried calmly speaking, but he was clearly frustrated. “I know this is so sudden. But the (L/N)’s clan head said something came up with (Y/N), and they retrieved all her things. Her clan said they were going to deal with everything else.”

Satoru's breathing became staggered. He could hear it growing louder. He tried his best not to let his voice crack, but that made him angrier.

“Everything else? The hell does that mean, sensei? Why would the (L/N) clan withdraw (Y/N) from school?! School ends in a few weeks! She could have graduated with us!”

“It…wasn’t their decision, Satoru…It was (Y/N)’s…”

Suddenly, Satoru became flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This gotta be some twisted, cruel joke that was playing on him. His curse energy was flaring up, and his cerulean eyes lit lightly. The flowers from the bouquet were losing their petals, and his bag full of treats was getting smushed from his intense grip.

“What…?”

“The clan head said it themselves.”

“No…”

“She decided not to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer and leave Jujutsu society.”

“LIKE HELL SHE WOULD!!!” Just like that, everything came crashing down for Satoru. Not being in your usual spots on campus, the empty dorm; hell, he noticed your curse residuals becoming faint. The traces of them becoming weaker and weaker. Your presence here in Jujutsu High was fading faster than he could notice. The anger he built up showed itself as it was on full display. Honestly, Yaga and Shoko don’t blame him for his outburst. Satoru held you close, after all.

“Satoru, please.” Yaga pinches the bridge of his nose as he clenches his teeth. “I’m just as lost as you are. This came out of the blue…Her clan confirmed it, and she said it herself.”

Satoru slightly flinches when Yaga holds the paper out towards him. Gesturing for Satoru to take it.

“I didn’t read far into this because it felt like (Y/N) wanted someone else to read it.”

Satoru’s long fingers snatched the paper out of his teacher’s hands. His hands shake as he opens the paper up to see its contents.

It was a letter–from you.

His eyes slowly followed the words of your neatly written goodbye. His heart rips itself piece by piece as he continues reading. The guilt and shaming grew. He could feel the fatigue and jadedness from your thoughts. But the last paragraph makes Satoru’s heart hurt the worst. Your frustration was transformed into desperation for a new life, a fresh start. Away from the endless curses and scrutiny of the higher-ups, away from the pain and hopelessness, away from it all. You didn’t want to throw your life away. You just wanted to live. Then, you end the letter with an apology. Saying sorry because you couldn’t tell them your honest thoughts, for not facing them in your departure, for not trying hard enough for everyone when it was needed. Then, the last line of your apology made Satoru’s blood run cold.

‘Most of all, I’m sorry for being weak.’

He knew that line was for him 100 percent. You wouldn’t have written it down if he didn’t tell you. To Satoru, you weren’t supposed to be the one apologizing. It should be him. He was the one who yelled at you and said those cruel and discouraging things to you. The one who pushed you away and didn’t allow you a chance to help. Fuck, he had the audacity to use his infinity against you. How dare he do that to you, his best friend the girl he fell in love with. His teeth clenched so hard out of pure anger they could crack. The anger he felt for himself was tremendous. He was angry at Suguru, the higher-ups, and Jujutsu Society. Angry at himself for being so stubborn and prideful, for waiting too long to act and apologize. But above all else, he was angry at what had become of the situation. Fully knowing he could do nothing to change anything as already was set in stone.

If he hadn’t been so prideful, he would’ve apologized to you sooner. If he didn’t blow up at you, you wouldn't become broken and hurt. If only he didn’t push you away, maybe you would have stayed– stayed by his side. But ‘if onlys’ are regrets from the past of the current reality. Now, he is living in it with the consequences of his own actions.

This is the price Satoru had to pay. He lost the only remnant that got him through this world by pushing you away. He lost his only two best friends in the world with no way of fixing it.

The price of becoming the strongest came at the expense of two of his most dearest friends.

Suguru was gone.

You were gone.

Forever with no signs of ever coming back to him.

In the end, Satoru Gojo was, truly, alone.

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asdfghjklmals · 9 months

Text

THE HONORED ONE✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and comfort. mentions of blood and injury. WORD COUNT: 4.1k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. high school lovers.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend thought that satoru gojo's infinity was impenetrable... oc gojo girlfriend tries her best to heal satoru after a grueling fight, but will her best be enough? AUTHOR'S NOTE: this fic follows 'fated to love you' click here to read. i cut toji and satoru's fight scenes pretty short beause i really don't do well writing fight scenes. would it really be a mals angst without ending on a somewhat good note? literally oc gojo girlfriend's au is me inputting her into the actual jjk manga where i can. 😂 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

tokyo jujutsu high school: oc gojo girlfriend's pov

“have you heard from idiot #1 and idiot #2?” shoko asked as you twiddled with your pencil. you were spending the afternoon studying with your bestfriend while satoru and suguru were on a mission.

you frowned, realizing that you actually haven't heard from satoru since he left. all he sent you was a good morning text saying that he made coffee for you in the dining hall before he left for his mission.

“no… yaga-sensei sent them off on a really important mission regarding the star plasma vessel for master tengen, but that’s all i know about it.”

“the last i heard from satoru was that they were going to okinawa to kill time. why don’t we try calling them?” shoko suggested.

you smiled back at her, "it’s okay, i’ll call satoru later. i try not to bug him while he’s on missions."

deep down, you really just wanted to know if he was okay. suguru had mentioned to you earlier this morning that satoru hadn’t slept yet. he had kept his infinity on ever since they left and it hasn’t been turned off. he was probably exhausted.

okinawa aquarium: satoru's pov

“are you going to get a souvenir for (y/n)? you know she loves aquariums.” suguru reminded satoru as they watched riko gaze at the large tank full of exotic fish.

“i already did. it was the first thing i did when i got here.” satoru smiled softly. it was the one thing he was actually looking forward to doing during this mission instead of babysitting a middle schooler.

“what did you get her?” suguru asked curiously.

satoru smiled cheekily, “i got her a small glass full of sand and seashells from the gift shop.”

suguru started to laugh at the mention of the bottle of sand, “you’re not going to put a love note in there again are you?”

“for the millionth time, it wasn’t a love note!” satoru defended himself. (read ‘souvenirs’ here)

"hey! bangs!" riko called out to suguru, "can we go to the reptile exhibit?!"

suguru closed his eyes and sighed heavily, "i wish she wouldn't call me that."

satoru patted suguru on the back and laughed. he was glad that suguru was here with him on this mission.

later that night: oc gojo girlfriend's pov

after a long day of studying, you laid in satoru’s bed. whenever he was gone for an overnight mission, you would sleep in his dorm room.

it totally wasn’t because you missed him immensely when he’s gone, but because you looked forward to how he would always greet you in the morning by plopping down on top of you and hugging you so tightly to the point you couldn't breathe. and not to mention, he never failed to pepper kisses on your forehead in the mornings. it was a very wholesome way to be woken up.

‘i wonder what he’s doing right now’, you thought to yourself. hesitating to press the call button on your flip phone. you laid there, flipping your phone shut, opening it back up, and flipping it shut again.

“i’ll just call him to say goodnight…” you mumbled, dialing satoru’s phone number. he answered immediately after the first ring.

“are you okay?” you heard him ask you. he sounded worried but tired, you could hear it in his voice.

“wow, not even a ‘hi sweetheart’ to your girlfriend? i should be asking you that mr. no-sleep-and-infinity-always-on.”

satoru sighed, “suguru told you, huh? he’s such a snitch.”

"he's not a snitch." you muttered, "he cares about you, just like i do. why don’t you get some sleep, babe?"

“i have to stay up to protect everyone, sweetheart.”

you bit back, “someone else can be on star plasma vessel protection duty while you sleep.”

satoru laughed at your statement, “who’s gonna protect me when i’m the strongest?”

“i will.” you said confidently, “—or suguru will. he promised me he would take care of you for me.”

“oh, my sweet little girlfriend is going to come all the way to okinawa to protect me?” he teased.

you grumbled, and rolled over onto your stomach. “you know i would if you wanted me to…”

satoru was quiet for a moment. you could hear his breathing through the receiver before he let out another loud sigh. “it’s late, sweetheart. you should get some sleep. we’ll be back tomorrow at 3pm.”

“promise me you’ll rest when you come home?”

“yes, i promise. maybe i’ll nap in your room.” satoru said.

you giggled because you knew he would end up sleeping in your room. that was a given after every mission. it was a hot shower first, then cuddles later. that was satoru's post mission routine.

“goodnight, satoru. i love you.”

“i love you too, (y/n).”

the next day: tokyo jujutsu high 3pm

you felt satoru’s presence enter the jujutsu high barrier. you sighed in relief. there was no way you couldn't detect his cursed energy because it was so strong, and his residuals felt like they were a part of you. you could sense that guy anywhere.

you called out to shoko, “shoko! i’m going to head out to the gates to see satoru and suguru.”

“okay, i’ll catch up with you guys later!” she waved as you left the classroom.

you walked slowly, appreciating the warm spring air and the smell of fresh cut grass. while you were on the way to the courtyard, you heard loud demolition sounds almost as if a building was being torn to pieces. heavy gusts of wind started to pick up, quickly.

you sensed a very familiar cursed energy, it was satoru’s cursed technique lapse: blue… but it was maximum output. you jumped up onto the roofs of the jujutsu high buildings, dashing towards the courtyard's front gates.

‘what the hell is happening? why is he using maximum output here?’, you thought as you sprinted and jumped from building to building. you had a horizontal view of the school, debris was floating in the air. as you were running, you saw suguru running the opposite way towards master tengen’s location. he was with two girls. ‘was that the star plasma vessel?’

“(y/n)!” suguru called out to you, “don’t get any closer to satoru! the opponent he’s facing is dangerous! he doesn’t have any cursed energy! he has a heavenly pact! you won’t be able to sense him!”

“—but i can help satoru!” you yelled back.

“trust me, satoru wouldn’t want you to get hurt. just stay hidden.”

you pursed your lips in hesitation. you wanted to help satoru, but you knew suguru wouldn’t have warned you if he didn’t think the situation was dangerous. and you would probably get in satoru’s way… you were always satoru’s achilles’ heel.

satoru gojo fought at his very best when he was alone. he could go all out and not have to worry about anyone getting caught in his techniques or in his domain expansion. any other sorcerer next to him would be a hindrance to him, even you.

“fine, i’ll stay hidden.” you called out to him, “—hurry and get to master tengen.”

you watched as suguru nodded back at you. he and the two girls started running again. you picked up the pace to get closer to where satoru was, until you saw a swarm of fly heads circling around the center of the courtyard. ‘where did those fly heads come from…?’

you stopped running. it was at that moment where your heart dropped. you couldn’t sense satoru’s cursed energy anymore.

you didn’t know whether or not the threat was still present or if satoru was masking his cursed energy using some sort of barrier technique.

there was no way something happened to him... right?

he was untouchable with infinity… right?

he was the strongest… right?

you jumped down onto the cobblestone pathway and hid behind one of the buildings several meters away. a man with dark hair in a black shirt, white pants, and a scar on his face started walking towards suguru's location.

you looked over to where the fly heads were. you quickly put your hands over your mouth to stop from screaming out satoru's name.

satoru’s body was sprawled on the concrete, blood and debris pooled around him. you summoned a protective barrier of water around satoru and sent a large pressured tidal wave towards all the fly heads, exorcising all of them at once.

“satoru!!!” you screamed, “—satoru, oh my god…”

you ran to his side, throwing ice shards at the remaining fly heads crawling all over his body. he had stab wounds on his head, his neck, multiple gashes on his right thigh, and a large slash through his chest all the way down to and through his abdomen.

a small ripple of cursed energy from his hand danced across his pool of blood. was that the last of satoru’s cursed energy? how could this happen to the untouchable satoru gojo? never in your life would you believe satoru could be defeated like this. there was just no way. he was the strongest.

"babe, please wake up!" you screamed as you shakily lifted his lifeless body onto your lap. you had to get it together if you wanted to heal him your with reversed cursed energy… and you had to do it fast. you focused all of your reversed cursed energy onto his largest wound, his chest. water left your hand to surround his wound, but it didn’t heal him at all. you wished your reversed cursed technique was more refined at this moment. you had been working so hard with shoko to master this healing technique of yours...

“damn it!” you screamed in frustration, tears streaming down your face. your vision was blurred by all the tears. you were so distraught that you couldn’t even focus. were you really so weak that you couldn’t even focus to heal the person you loved most?

you tried it again. water surrounded his wound, but stayed stagnant. you started to break down. catching your sobbing breaths, you hiccuped as you held satoru’s body in your arms. his blood drenched your uniform, but you didn’t care. you were about to lose the love of your life and you couldn't do anything about it. you cradled his head, moving his stray hairs out of his face. if this was the last time he would be in your arms, then so be it.

“please, just let me heal him…” you cried to yourself, begging to all the gods you could, with a small sliver of hope that you could maintain control of your cursed energy for even just a second to heal him.

as you held him, you noticed that satoru’s wounds were starting to slowly heal… but it wasn’t from your reversed cursed technique.

you closed your eyes, thanking all gods above for whatever it was that was healing him.

“satoru… please come back to me. you promised you wouldn’t leave me here alone… you promised to protect me.” you sobbed as you held him closer to you. your tears drenching his cheek.

“wow, (y/n) (l/n) crying over silly ol’ me?” a weak and quiet voice said in awe, “—i never thought i’d live to see the day.”

you wiped your tears with your sleeve. you couldn’t believe what you were seeing… or hearing. satoru gave you a meek smile.

“how are you even talking to me right now?” you scoffed as you continued to cry. “you are literally dead in my arms.”

satoru groaned, “reversed cursed technique, babe.”

“but i thought you didn’t know how to do that yet…”

you held him tighter. refusing to let go of him in fear that he’d disappear from your arms. this must be your imagination. you probably went insane after satoru died. and now you were starting to see and hear things.

as much as satoru would have loved to stay in your embrace forever, he sat up and pushed your arms away from him, “that’s another conversation for later. i have to take care of something.”

you snapped out of it and panicked when he tried to leave your side, “no! don’t go! i don't want to lose you again…” you clung onto his arm, shaking your head to wake you up from this nightmare. you knew he was going to go back and try to dispose of the man who did this to him. the man you saw earlier.

“you’re not going to lose me.” satoru reassured you. “—i’m the strongest, remember?”

tears streamed down your cheek as you sobbed. it was satoru’s turn to comfort you now. he held your frantically shaking body, using his thumb to brush away tears from your cheek.

“i’ll come back to you.” satoru said confidently, “(y/n), i promise that i’m going to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. i told you that i was going to protect you. i love you, you know that?”

you tried to catch your breath through your sobbing, “y-you pinky promise?”

“i pinky promise.” satoru said as he intertwined your pinkies before pressing a kiss on your quivering lips. “i have to go. can't have the man who made my baby cry roam free, can i now?”

he teleported off before he could hear you weakly say, “i love you, satoru…”

satoru gojo vs. toji fushiguro round 2

enlightenment. the action or state of attaining knowledge or insight.

satoru. a masculine japanese name meaning ‘to know’ or ‘to understand’. if you write satoru’s name in a different way, it could mean ‘to be spiritually awakened’.

and in that moment, on the verge of death, satoru gojo had finally understood the core of cursed energy.

he felt the positive cursed energy from his reversed cursed technique flow into limitless.

cursed technique reversal: red.

it was the first time that satoru had successfully unleashed red. and it was right into the man who spiritually awakened him, toji fushiguro.

“heh, what a monster.” toji muttered as he got up from the rubbish and debris around him after being hit by satoru's cursed technique.

‘sorry, amanai…’ satoru thought to himself, ‘i’m not angry about your death anymore, nor do i feel any resentment towards anyone. right now, everything just feels right.’

“throughout heaven and earth, i alone am the honored one.”

satoru swiftly dodged all of toji’s attempted attacks with the inverted spear of heaven as the sorcerer killer kept his strikes coming.

toji was from the zen'nin clan. growing up, he was taught about the gojo clan's techniques such as limitless, blue, and red. but the cursed technique that satoru was about to attempt for the first time, was only known to a select few people of the gojo clan. (read ‘meet the gojos’ here)

motion and reversal. positive and negative. born by combining both infinities of blue and red. a powerful, imaginary mass that rushes forward, obliterating all matter in it's path… one of the strongest techniques in the gojo clan.

hollow purple.

"so, any last words?" satoru asked the sorcerer killer as he bled from his torso. an entire chunk of his body and arm was gone from the hit from hollow purple.

"nope... in two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the zen'nin clan. do what you will with that information." toji told the white haired sorcerer as he fell to the ground.

inside the star plasma vessel association hideout

"you're late, suguru." satoru called out to his bestfriend without any emotion in his voice. his tone was flat. it was like he was lifeless, yet he was still alive.

"satoru?! what happened to you?" suguru asked, surprised to see satoru standing in front of him with riko’s dead body in his arms.

satoru ignored him, noticing that suguru was healed up. he sensed yours and shoko’s residuals. "looks like you saw (y/n) and shoko."

"yeah, they fixed me up." suguru started to say, he saw riko's hand fall from her deceased body. "actually... it doesn't matter if i'm fine. i—"

satoru interrupted him, "it's not your fault, suguru. i'm the one that messed up and let my guard down."

suguru took a moment to read the room before he waved towards satoru, "let's get out of here."

"suguru... do you... want to… kill them all...?" satoru asked his bestfriend coldly, referring to all the people applauding the death of the star plasma vessel, "—the me right now probably wouldn't even feel a thing if we killed them."

suguru knew that nothing good would happen if he were to kill all of these people who had different ideals than him and satoru. he shut his eyes and sighed, "forget it. it's pointless and pointless killing is futile. plus, what would (y/n) think of you?"

satoru stayed quiet for a moment before scoffing. "pointless, huh? does there need to be a reason to kill these people?"

"of course. it's important to have a reason. especially as jujutsu sorcerers. jujutsu sorcerers exists to protect non-jujutsu sorcerers."

suguru geto was and always will be satoru gojo's moral compass. adding onto his morality, an image of you appeared in satoru's newly enlightened mind.

'what would (y/n) think of me if she could see me right now?' satoru thought to himself. he had to be better than this, he knew he was better than this. you always saw the good in satoru, he couldn't disappoint you today, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

"okay then, let's go home." satoru motioned. he paused after a thought, “actually, you head back with amanai first. there’s something i need to do.”

suguru took riko’s body from him as he watched satoru teleport off.

before returning to jujutsu high, satoru gojo went to dispose of the inverted spear of heaven. he didn't give a damn about the history of this tool and where it came from. there was no way a cursed tool that could nullify his cursed technique was going to stay on this earth. there was no way he was going to take his chances of dying again. and there was no way he was going to let that cursed tool exist given the possibility of losing you.

later that night

after a very long and hot shower, satoru laid in your bed, absentmindedly staring at the popcorn ceiling above. his fingers subconsciously rubbing soft circles into your lower back. it was a habit of his that he picked up ever since he started sleeping in your dorm room.

you couldn’t help but think about how you weren’t able to help satoru earlier today when he was bleeding out in your arms. were you really that weak and not in control of your own powers? you hated yourself for not being able to get your cursed energy under control. you couldn’t even save the one person you loved most in this god forsaken world. you couldn’t imagine your life without satoru and you almost lost him... and you couldn’t do a damn thing.

you felt satoru’s arm dive under your torso, pulling you closer to him. you closed your eyes and pursed your lips, afraid you might start crying in front of him. you didn’t have the heart to face him.

“what’s on your mind?” he asked, peppering soft kisses on your temple.

you scoffed in disbelief, “i should be asking you that. you’re the one that almost died. what happened to you, satoru? who that hell was that man?”

“i got caught slipping,” satoru sighed, “remember that tool that went missing when we went to visit your family?”

you remembered the uproar it caused when you went back with satoru to visit your clan. the inverted spear of heaven was stolen from your clan’s collection of cursed objects that day. that tool came from the last known water cursed technique user from your clan and the six eyes user from the gojo clan 400 years ago. (read ‘fated to love you’ here)

it hurt you to ask, “did that man use that tool on you…?”

“yeah. it broke through infinity.”

tears started to form in your eyes. guilt filling every ounce of your body. a cursed tool from your clan’s collection that the gojo clan entrusted to your clan ended up being the reason why satoru almost died.

“it’s funny, don’t you think?” satoru started to say, “a six eyes gojo ancestor gave that cursed tool to the love of their life, a (l/n) water cursed technique user to keep safe so that no one could ever use it against the gojo clan... and the tool almost killed me. my ancestor would be rolling in her grave right now.”

you wiped your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, “it’s not funny, satoru. i don’t care what the legend has to say. i’m not losing you. not in this lifetime.”

satoru wished things could go back to normal... before this whole mess with the star plasma vessel, before the inverted spear of heaven was stolen. today was life changing for satoru, as he was sure it was for you too. he unlocked a side of him that he didn’t know existed. after tapping into the core of cursed energy, everything inside him changed. he felt a new high that he thought would never go away. would he be able to live his life freely with these new abilities?

“well, i’m still here kicking and breathing. someone has to be the strongest and live to protect the weak.” he said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. “—but really though, what’re you thinking about?”

“i’m thinking about how i almost lost the love of my life.” frowning at the nightmare you experienced today. "and this life for us was just getting started..."

you thought back to yours and satoru's visit to your clan's estate. the memory of you and him confirming your feelings for one another at the lily pad pagoda. you wanted to be with him in this lifetime, and all the lifetimes after that. satoru was end game for you.

he grinned, whispering in your ear, “damn, this guy named satoru gojo must be lucky to have a girlfriend like you.”

“satoruuu—” you whined, hitting his chest softly with your tiny fist, “i was so scared seeing you like that. and i couldn’t even get my shit together to heal you.” tears started to form on your dark eyelashes again, the guilt was still eating you up inside.

satoru cupped your cheek with his hand, wiping your tears away with his thumb just like he did earlier today. the palm of his hand on your cheek was a perfect fit. it was like he was made just for you, to hold and to love for the rest of your life.

“it’s okay, babe. you did everything you could.” he whispered.

“and it wasn’t enough, satoru! i couldn’t even protect you like i promised...” you cried as more tears streamed down your cheek. satoru's thumb wiping away the tears again.

“it's not your job to protect me.” satoru said sternly.

“then what is my job?”

“just to sit here and look pretty for me.” satoru joked as you glared at him through damp tears.

before you could interject with another whine, he hushed you by putting his index finger on your lips, “—your job, babe, is to love this guy named satoru gojo for the rest of your life.”

“now that… i think i can do.” you hiccuped, “—don’t ever scare me like that again, satoru gojo.”

there was a silence between the two of you after you said that. satoru knew he probably couldn’t promise you that something like this wouldn’t happen again, but he knew that he could promise you that he would do everything in his power to protect you for the rest of your lives. it was the very same promise he gave to you, your brother, and the both of your grandparents.

two eyes as blue as the ocean yearned for you to tell him the three words he’s been waiting to hear all day. he stared into your eyes as you gently stroked his cheek with your hand.

“i love you, satoru gojo. so much.” you leaned into him, kissing him with a little more need than usual. satoru tilted his head back, admiring the view of the beautiful you before he leaned back down press a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you too, (y/n). it’s an honor to be loved by you...”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 3 months

Text

Training Part 1

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers type. You and Gibbs never got along, and luckily you never really had to work with each other…until now.

Part 2

You followed behind Agent Fornell as the both of you stepped out of the elevator and into the squad room of NCIS.

You spotted the 3 familiar agents standing in front of the plasma, speaking amongst each other until DiNozzo spoke.

“Trouble on your 6 boss.”

Their supervisory agent turned towards you and Fornell, looking ready for an argument.

“You can release Ramos, we’ll take it from here Gibbs,” Fornell started.

“We’ll release him when we’re done questioning him Tobias. He has ties to our victim and has no alibi for the night of the murder.”

“He’s got nothing to do with your murder. He’s been under FBI surveillance for the last 3 months and if you compromise all of our work, both of us are gonna be on the chopping block with our Directors.”

Gibbs gave him a look that showed that he had no intention of backing down and Fornell sighed before turning to you.

“Stay here. We’ll be back.”

As Gibbs walked past you, you made sure to give him that hard stare that he always gives you every time you see each other. You met Agent Gibbs a few months ago on a joint Investigation and from day one he rubbed you the wrong way. He was stubborn, arrogant and always thought he was right. Even though he was good looking and good with a gun, you weren’t gonna let him intimidate you.

“So how’s it been, being the FBI’s lackey?” DiNozzo jested, making you roll your eyes.

“Better than you being Gibbs’ pet,” you shot right back, getting a snicker out of the Mossad agent behind you.

“You know I heard about that incident with your last case. Suspect got the jump on you. Sounds like your hand to hand combat needs a little work,” he continued.

You walked over, closing in on him, causing him to take a step back. You were at least half a foot shorter than him but judging by the unsure look on his face, your intimidation tactics were on point.

“He was 6,4” and pushing 200lbs DiNozzo. And I didn’t really do much hand to hand with him before putting two bullets in his chest. But by all means, we can put those skills to the test if you want.”

“Stop harassing my agents, Agent Y/N. If you wanna spar, you can do it with me,” you heard Gibbs’ condescending voice speak from the stairs. Looking over, you saw Fornell and him walking over and backed off of DiNozzo who chuckled nervously. You waited until he was standing in front of you to speak.

“Pick a place and time Gibbs.”

Your words held contempt and he just gave you a smirk while taking a sip of his coffee. It took everything in you not to slap it out of his hand. The rest of his agents were quiet as Fornell was smiled in the back.

“NCIS training room, 6pm.”

“I’ll be there.”

You all continued working, the case turning into a joint investigation, you making a point to avoid the Supervisory Agent as much as possible throughout the day. When lunch time came around, you and Fornell stopped by a little sandwich shop.

“So what’s your beef with Gibbs?” he asked you, taking a bite of his pastrami on rye.

“He just thinks he’s so righteous. The way he talks with people, the way he walks, everything about him screams douchebag,” you ranted, Fornell chuckling as you did.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just funny. Have you ever thought the reason you don’t like Gibbs is because he’s so much like you? And being the most competitive person I know, you hate having someone that matches you.”

“Don’t profile me Fornell. It’s above your pay grade.”

“See. Like that. Gibbs would’ve said something just like that. Maybe not as harsh but similar. I think you actually like him but don’t know how to deal with it. Maybe this little sparring sesh of yours will prove beneficial.”

You huffed in annoyance at his words but you he wasn’t completely delusional. It did make sense but at the same time, part of you genuinely didn’t like Gibbs.

“Are you trying to set me up with your best friend Tobias?”

He just shrugged his shoulders before stealing a fry off your barely touched plate.

“I’m not trying anything. You challenged him remember? Just one word of advice. He’s got a blind spot just outside his left eye. You use that knowledge correctly and you’ll have him on his ass. Then I can break his balls for the rest of the investigation.”

You both laughed and finished up your lunch before heading back to join NCIS.

————

You were just finished tying your shoes when you saw Gibbs come into the gym. He was wearing an old NIS shirt, some sweat shorts, and black converse. Very casual for someone about to get his ass kicked. You on the other hand, went with some black leggings, sports bra and a loose tank top.

“On the mats, let’s go,” he said in passing.

You followed him to the training mats where he placed a dummy handgun down. There were only 2 or 3 other agents in the room, minding their business with various gym equipment, seemingly none of Gibbs’ minions hanging around.

“Your objective is to not let me get ahold of that gun, understand?”

You just nodded and stood across from him, both of you an equal distance away from the gun.

“Now.”

Both of you ran for the gun, you getting there first and grabbing it. As soon as you brought it up to fake fire, Gibbs knocked it out of your hands, sending it sliding towards the other side of the mats. Before he could make his way to get it, you grabbed a hold of his neck and pulled him down in an attempt to get him to the ground but he just twisted out of it and broke free, giving him plenty of time to grab the gun and aim it at you.

“Dead,” he declared, making you roll your eyes.

“Congratulations Gibbs. Want a medal?”

Keeping a straight face, he walked over to you, eyes never leaving yours and stood a foot away, making you have to tilt your head up because of the height difference. Ok, maybe he was a little intimidating.

“I want you to stop being a brat and let me help you.”

You wanted to spit out something snarky but bit your tongue as he continued. “You’re never gonna win a hand to hand combat with someone much bigger than you based on brute force. Maneuverability and quickness are going to be your best friend.”

He took a step back and dropped the dummy gun.

“I read your file. You spent 2 years training in Judo and Jiu-Jitsu. Use those skills. Use the enemies own weight against them. For now, just try to get me to the ground for an arrest.”

You sized him up real quick, identifying his strong and weak points before attacking. You remembered what Fornell had told you earlier and decided to use it. Side stepping to Gibbs’ left side, you grabbed him by the shirt and used your leg to trip him backwards so that he fell to the floor. You wasted no time in climbing on top, getting your legs around his arm and neck before pulling in for a successful armbar. Once he tapped, you let him go and couldn’t help but wear a triumphant smile.

You went to get up but was taken off guard when you felt Gibbs push you back to the ground, grabbing your wrists and twisting them behind your back while sitting atop of your stomach and wrapping his legs around your own so you couldn’t move. You squirmed, hoping to slip free but he had you in a vice grip.

He leaned down so his face was inches from yours, both of you breathing hard from the exercise.

“Never let your guard down,” he whispered. You don’t know if you were more pissed about the fact that he got the drop on you or how turned on you were right then but you weren’t gonna let him win that easy.

He may have had a grip on your hands and legs but that didn’t stop you from pushing your chest up and bringing your head to the side of his, gently caressing his cheek with your mouth. You heard him let out a breath and loosen his grip just the slightest.

That’s all you needed.

Slipping your arms out, you used all your momentum to shift the weight, grabbing the gun that was lying inches away and pointing it at him once you were on top.

“Dead,” you declared the same as he had earlier but with more cockiness.

He chuckled and sat up, leaning back on his hands, licking his lips and looking at you with his head cocked to the side.

“With a little more practice, you could join NCIS.”

You laughed at his joke and took a second to give him a once over. His striking blue eyes, chiseled jawline and boyish grin was actually pretty attractive if you thought about it. In that moment, he didn’t seem like the typical douchebag you pegged him as and it unnerved you.

He didn’t make a move to push you off as you realized you were still straddling him and just held his stare until you looked away.

“I’ll stick with hanging with the big boys, thank you.”

You got to your feet and offered him a hand which he took. Your stomach fluttered just a little as his hands met yours to took the dummy gun from you.

“Look forward to working with you again Agent Y/N.”

You just smiled and turned to leave.

“Goodnight Agent Gibbs.”

As you left the gym, you saw his own smile appear on his lips.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #jethro gibbs fanfiction

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whalesforhands · 10 months

Text

purge your turmoil pt.8 (satosugu x reader)

previous masterlist next

warnings: yandere behaviors and tendencies, my experimental tone shifts, not really creepy unless u find obsessive behaviors and patterns horrifying, gore mentions

Surrounded by debris of the dilapidated, abandoned hospital, you hold onto a raggedy stuffed doll left behind.

It’s soft and colourful. Or, it once was. Her dress stained and riddled with blood and dirt, her cotton body having been slashed through the middle, soft cotton falling out as you hold her.

A child’s final comfort in their last moments. It’s hard to breathe thinking about it.

Your thumb gently caresses the doll’s smiling face, clearing off dust and remnants of dirt as best you could.

“Will this,” Your words tremble. “Ever end?”

Suguru stands beside you, hands clenching when he catches the look of quiet despair on your face.

“I think… It’s not something to hope for.” He wishes he could offer more than just this.

“It’s,” You suck in a harsh breath, not realizing you’ve been holding your breath. “Been hard.” Your eyes flutter close as you try to ignore the haunting memories of blood on your hands, of cries for help, of massacred bodies of unfortunate victims. Over and over and over and over-

“And here you are, despite how hard it’s been.” He’s beside you now, kneeling down on one knee next to you as he tenderly grips a dirtied, matching ribbon found within the rubble back around the doll’s neck, tenderly patting its head when he finishes.

It’s whole once again. You gently prop it against the crumbled pillar.

You hope that in another life, that doll and her owner are reunited.

——

The ticking of a clock sounds out somewhere around you, quiet and constant, each tock giving your eyelids the strength to finally lift, only to be met with the endless darkness ahead of you.

You don’t know if you’re still alive.

You’ve been floating around in here for… God knows how long. It’s lonely. Everyone. What’s happening? Where are they? You miss Shoko. You miss Satoru. You miss Suguru. You miss Yaga. You miss that little boy.

“You look like someone I know.”

You gently smile at him, eyes closed in amused bliss as you continue to stroke his hair, his head in your lap as he stares up at you with a furrowed brow of scrutinization.

“That so? I don’t think my features are very distinguishable from others, I suppose.” You giggle out, happy to have the young boy so comforted in your embrace as you softly pat his head.

(He’s so soft and squishy. You want to pull and stretch those mochi-like cheeks of his. You refrain, afraid of another barking remark that ultimately held no bite.)

“That’s not what I meant.” He pulls a sulky, irritated expression, brows still downturned into one of dissatisfaction, as if he can’t put his finger on where the sense of familiarity was coming from.

“You look like the pictures in the-“

You miss everyone. When was the last time you talked to them? You think and think, churning your brain, eyes squeezing close as you’re hit by a wave of bitter pain, your spine straightening out as you clutch your head.

“I think…” You begin to trail off, eyes stuck to the glowing blue glass of the aquarium as you watch a whale shark swim past your vicinity within the enclosure.

It’s tranquil. You squeeze the warm hands you held as you watched the sight before you with a smile.

“If I could choose… I’d like a life where I could grow old with all of you.”

You’re smiling as you think about it. Maybe you could rent a little apartment near wherever the 3 of them are staying, a quaint, quiet neighbourhood…

(…marriage? Maybe. That promise still makes you blush.)

Riko would give up on her little Star Plasma spiel. Live the way she truly wanted to, a way where she can finally find happiness, experience the joys she’s yet to feel.

Everyone… Would just be happy. Just like they deserve, just like they should.

But… You can’t possibly witness that if you’re dead, right? Your fingers claw at your face as you feel the bewildering pain of your thoughts. Are you really dead? No— Please, there’s still so much left to do. Your pitiful life should’ve had a reason for your living, and yet—

You can’t hear them. Can’t hear anything. You’re dead. Dead. What’s happening out there? Move. Move. Move.

The silence is deafening as your body squirms and you block out your ears.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tickticktickticktick-

Nobody is answering you. You’re missing the physical connection you once had to your body. How long has it been? How long have you been stuck like this? Time doesn’t even feel like it exists while you’re here.

The incessant ticking comes to a stop.

——

You learned to recognize this place in your time here. Your cursed void. One where no one but you could enter, and no one but you could leave.

The problem was… You couldn’t leave. You’ve tried. Walked and walked for endless miles, clawed at the abyssal darkness that never had an end, screamed into the void for hours just to never have an answer.

You… Can’t really be in here forever, can you?

It’s lonely in here.

“Gojo-sama, who is (last name)-san…?”

The tall man grins micheviously, looking down at the tiny hand he held within his palms as he squeezes lightly, before bending down to be eye level with his child.

“A special someone you’ll meet soon enough.”

——

“Nanako… We shouldn’t be in here…”

“It’s fine, Mimi! Papa and Daddy didn’t say we can’t visit! We just want to put the fresh flowers in for her! Plus…” She pauses, turning her head left and right, scouring the area.

“Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t here to stop us!”

The last sentence was dropped to a whisper, as if the blonde just realized her voice could attract attention.

Suguru kisses your hair, hands trailing to interlock your fingers with his own as he breathes in the very feel of you.

“Look, kids.” Geto pulls away, touch still lingering on your skin that had long gone cold years ago. He flashes a smile towards his awaiting children, showing you off for them to see.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

You startle from your curled up position, hearing two faint sets of feet patter into the room. Slow, trying their best to tiptoe before a certain pair gives up, breaking into a sprint towards you.

A tiny crack forms within your domain as your ears keen to listen.

“See! It’s perfectly fine!”

You hear tapping, the fumbling of paper and plastic.

“Papa said it’s okay to give her flowers. I wanna be first cause today’s her…” She furrows her brows as she tries to mouth out the word. “Anniv- Ersaury?”

Mimiko frowns at her twin. “We should wait till everyone gets here…” She’s unsure, hugging her plush to her chest as she nervously looks around, more afraid of getting in trouble with her beloved parents more than anything.

The crack grows larger, making its way towards you.

“But last time we only got to spend like 10 seconds with her before Papa and Daddy chased us out!” Nanako huffed, a hand on her hip as she gripped a large bouquet of white lilies and osmanthus flowers, Mimiko holding onto the incense sticks.

“Anyway!” Nanako turns back to face you, settling the flowers down as she moves to kneel before you, hurrying Mimiko to start placing the incense.

“Let’s just start!”

You swiftly move towards it, ignoring the shards of glass digging into the soles of your feet, eyes burning from the shimmers of light shining through the holes as you chase it down, wanting, yearning for this escape.

The anxious twin lets out a deep sigh, lighting the incense sticks with a nearby candle as she hands a few to her awaiting sister, who settles down comfortably on her knees atop the prayer pillow.

“I wish for you to get better soon!” She holds the incense sticks up with her hands as she prays, eyes closed in deep concentration.

“Mhm…” Her twin follows suit, surrounding the room in a deep silence as they are joined by the flickers of the flame, the slow dripping of dewdrops from their fresh flowers chorusing with their heartfelt pleas.

Your surroundings begin to shatter, glass like formations raining down upon you as a shining bright light envelops your sight, a bubble immediately blowing up and swallowing you in its embrace as you begin to glow, the twins jumping off and Nanako standing protectively before her sister as she gets pushed back by your cursed technique.

“I- I think we broke it…” Mimiko’s voice is starting to crack as her tears begin to well up in her eyes, her hand dragging Nanako further back from you.

“Shh! What if Daddy hears us?”

“But he’s gone to pick up Gumi and big sister Tsumiki…”

Your eyelashes flutter as you slowly blink open your eyes, sensations of touch and your feel of the atmosphere slowly return to you. Your dried up flesh slowly plumping up, blood beginning to flow throughout your body, face instantaneously flushing with colour once more as you gasp out, taking lungfuls of air, irises rolling back to the front to view the space before you.

“Nanako… Is that…?”

You’re met with the darkness of what seems to be a bedroom. You slowly move to get up, bones creaking and your fingers slowly twitching to really get the feel of your body back, brushing against the various lilies and osmanthus flowers surrounding you, seemingly fresh in nature as dewdrops slowly dripped off the petals and onto your fingertips.

You look around you, disoriented and feeling fatigued, slowly sitting up against the plush area you were lying upon. It felt like you had just awoken from the dead.

“H…ello?” Your eyes flicker over to the 2 little girls standing before you, voice hoarse, broken. Vocal cords tangled together from years of underuse as you feel your organs literally start to pump to life, eyesight slowly coming back as your vision gets restored by the bubble.

It pops.

They scream, rushing towards you as they lunge towards your form.

“We did it Mimi! We cured Mama!”

Mama…? Did you- Oh my god. You’re blushing up a storm at the thought of it.

“Wha-What…?” Their smiles grow ever bigger, hugs growing startlingly tight for their small forms.

“Mhm! Along with Gumi and our big sister Tsumiki! But they’re at school now and Daddy is gonna pick them up and buy us lunch, then, then! We’re gonna eat dinner together cause Papa’s coming back today, then we’re gonna tell them we woke you up!”

“B-but we have to apologise to Papa and Daddy first for going inside the room, Nanako…”

You hear Nanako audibly gulp. “O-okay, but what if-“

Your eyes are starting to gloss over. You didn’t think that you’d be having 4 kids after being in that void for so long…

“W-wait—“ You’re trying to get used to your voicebox, trying to get used to the feeling of being alive once more. “Y-Your par—“

“Ahh, I’m so hungry!” The blonde one is curling herself into your chest as she whimpers from her hunger, a loud growl coming from her supposed sister next to her as she hugs your arm to her chest alongside her plushie.

You look down at the girls who are still upon your lap, staring up at you in expectant want. Oh— You suppose your question can wait for later.

…everything happens for a reason, right?

(Where is everyone?)

——

“Is the fridge always this empty?” You’re standing shakily on your feet, almost akin to a newborn whilst trying your best to not lose balance.

“No, Papa is just out of town on his job right now!” Nanako puts her hands on her hips as Mimiko signals you to come down with a frantic come hither motion of her hand, you kneel to her level, nearly falling over had it not been for the second twin flanking onto your other side and pushing you up with all her body’s strength, whilst Mimiko cups a hand around her mouth, whispering into your right ear.

“Daddy can’t cook, so he always buys takeout when Papa isn’t around…”

Nanako tugs at your sleeve on your left, signalling for you to come towards her.

“Don’t tell Papa but,” Her voice gains an excited tremor. “Sometimes Daddy lets us eat ice cream and cake for dinner!” She pauses once again.

“And he forgets to remind us to brush our teeth!” The girls giggle together in unison.

“Then sometimes, when Daddy is called on for a sudden mission…”

“He brings us all along and lets us watch him beat up the bad guys right in front of us! Gumi likes it the most!” The girls start zooming around you, throwing punches into the air and pretending to hit each other as Nanako feigns hurt when she takes a ‘direct’ hit from Mimiko’s plush.

“Ahhh! I’ve been hit by Red! KABOOSH!!” She falls dramatically to the ground, imitating a explosion with waves of her little arms before splaying herself by your feet and clutching your calf.

“Like that!”

…

You’re sweating with stress as you listen, patting their heads as they smile angelically at you. You need to talk to their parents about this before you get a heart attack.

(Missions… Red… Are their parents jujutsu sorcerers?)

“Girls.” You stand back up, your hands placed on both of their heads as you began to pat them gently as they nuzzle up into your warm touch. Nanako holds your hand in place when she feels you try to pull away, whilst Mimiko begins to intertwine her fingers with your own, trying to trap you.

“Why don’t we go buy something?”

——

You’re silently panicking as the two girls drag you towards the old crepe shop, tugging you by the hand as you’re slightly hunched over to allow them easier access to you.

You forgot the most crucial thing.

Money.

“Papa and Daddy always lets us follow them to the school! Then, then-!”

“Then we buy chocolate milk because Papa and Daddy really like it!”

“But Daddy never finishes his, so we get extra cause he gives it to us!”

“Then we play with Uncle Yaga who gives us new dolls every month! Then Uncle Yu, he’s super, super fun! Auntie Shoko gives us sweets when Papa isn’t looking!”

(Yaga, Yu— Shoko…!)

Mimiko pipes in. “Uncle Kento sometimes plays with us when he’s not busy eating his big sandwiches… Then Megumi and Miki comes back from school and then-!”

(Kento… Megumi? Miki? Does this mean— Could it be?)

“We eat dinner together!”

“You’re gonna lovvvveeee them!”

Your hands pat their hands, feeling them nuzzle into your warm touch.

“I’m sure I will.” You’re suddenly before the crepe stand as the two girls drool over their options. “But first, um… Do you girls happen to have any allowance?”

(“Oh! Yea!” Mimiko unzips the back of her plushie, pulling out a singular 10000 yen bill as your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“Daddy gave it to us before he left so that we could use it if we wanted!”

Your jaw is still hanging low in shock to process her words.)

——

“Uncle Yaga!” The girls pounce into his arms, causing him to stumble before he firmly plants his feet onto the ground.

“Children…! What are you doing here?” His voice had lost their usual rough tone, turning softer as he smiles down at the familiar kids. Still… They shouldn’t be here. Is Gojo nearby—

He senses it.

He feels the pulse of a familiar energy, hurriedly pushing the kids behind him as his sunglasses scan the area, spotting your tired form slumped over against a tree, trying to catch your breath.

“Kids…” You’re huffing as you try to get your bearings back. “Please don’t run…!”

No. It couldn’t be— There’s absolutely no way—! His hands ready themselves, calling for his cursed corpses to the scene before you-!

“Ahh! Yaga-sensei…!” You’re still panting as you reach him, sweat on your brow and your legs jellylike as the twins continue to cling onto him, wondering what’s going on.

“I’m so glad you weren’t so far away!” You’re sweating, smiling through your tiredness as you try to regain your bearings.

“I have so much to ask you!”

…

“Let’s talk in my office.”

——

There’s a hurried stampede of feet before the door is quite literally ripped off its hinges.

Her unlit cigarette collapses to the floor from her grip as she stares at the sight before her, felt the surrounding cursed energy as her body freezes in place.

She takes a step back, legs trembling when she places a hand over her mouth in shock, her eyes widened in horror and distress as she met your form.

Suguru’s distraught as he looks into your eyes. Eyes that never should’ve opened ever again. Eyes that he thought he would never see again. Eyes that he missed seeing with every fiber of his being, every speck of his soul.

You.

How are you here? Why were you out of that room specifically made to contain you?

Why are you alive?

“Yaga.” His eyes have narrowed into dangerous slits, fingernails digging painfully into the calloused flesh of his palms as the snarl he has on his face grows turbulent and murderous.

His curses are immediately summoned, one delegated to swallowing Shoko and tucking her away in its belly as it brings her devastated form to safety.

It’s tense. The words are stuck in your throat as you try to make yourself heard.

The mere presence of his cursed energy is causing you to freeze up from the overwhelming fear.

His cursed spirits were on their haunches, ready to pounce and stab and claw through the flesh of anyone who dares to stir the rage, the trembling anger of their master.

Your eyes widen as you witness the familiar worm spirit appear by his shoulder, hurling out a long set of nunchucks from its disgusting mouth. Your hands tremble as your spine straightens, his gaze deadset on you as you see the flashes of a million emotions running through him.

You’re breathless in his presence.

“You have 5 seconds,” Yaga feels the dreadfully cold voice of the special grade shaman, the aura emanating sending chills down his very spine as the lightbulb bursts, darkness swallowing the room as the air suddenly fills with putrid, thick smoke that crept into his lungs, skin prickling with goosebumps.

The suffocating presence of Geto Suguru.

“To tell me why my wife’s corpse is in front of us.”

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Notes:

Through abuse of his power as the revered Six Eyes and Limitless technique inheritor of the renowned Gojo clan, Gojo was able to get possession over your body.

Geto and Ieiri were the ones who made a special coffin in efforts to preserve your body utilizing cursed energy.

Yaga was about to attack you after sensing your cursed energy. But the sight before him— Made him realise you can’t exactly be a threat.

Geto thinks you’re a curse. How devastating, to think that a mere curse dares to imitate your presence, dares to imitate you on your death anniversary. He wants to hurl, to vomit. The feeling in his mouth more disgusting, more vile than any curse he’s ever swallowed.

And yet, his heart yearns to feel you in his arms once more.

nvy’s aftertalk:

who wants to guess wtf is happening hahahahah

that praying scene is inspired partially by the way i do it when i go to the temple to pray haha

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #whalewrites #dyf au #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader

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dazed-and-confused23 · 2 months

Note

Can I please request a fic where Dusty the Deathclaw has a close call? Like maybe the Enclave or the Brotherhood of Steel, or raiders, got in a lucky shot on Dusty’s belly. And this DEVASTATES the reader enough to go full John Wick on the person who shot Dusty, even to the point that Cooper is like “Oh Damn”. Cause they hurt the WRONG wasteland baby!

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 17

I had a lot of fun with this one and it gave me an excuse to head down to the Capitol Wasteland. Ignore the janky timelines ❤️

*so sorry that this took a while to get out. Life does a good job of getting in the way sometimes @odditycircus-2002. I hope you enjoy! ❤️*

Masterlist

You aren't a fan of the Capitol Wasteland. The weather is shit, and she and Cooper had been shot at no less than eight times in the two weeks they'd arrived. This pocket of the wasteland felt even more dangerous to be in, especially with the rumor of a slaver group in the area. You and Cooper had agreed to avoid them as best you could, but that still left the rest of the factions the two of you needed to keep an eye out for.

The BOS left the three of you alone for the most part whenever they happened to cross your path, Dusty had even made a friend with the dark skinned lady named Cross. Raiders were raiders, but the problems really started when she and Cooper stumbled across another group. The Enclave.

Even after the destruction of Raven Rock, pockets of the old world faction still remained. The day was coming to an end when laser fire suddenly accosted the trio of wanderers. They dove for the cover of nearby rocks and grab for their own weapons. Dusty roars loud enough that your ears ring and charge ahead, furious milky eyes zeroed in on the men in suits of power armor.

"Fuck. That's the Enclave," Cooper snarls beside you, and you whip around to stare up at him in horror. Out of all the factions that they could have run into, it had to be one of the most dangerous ones. They were righteous zealots who dreamed of wiping the earth clean of all mutated creatures.

This was the one faction that would have the kind of firepower to actually hurt their deadly companion, and you felt fear grip your heart when rapid laser fire fell upon Dusty. The creature snarled and gnashed his teeth, dropping down to his front arms to sprint forward and close the distance between himself and the Elclave member who had the gatling laser.

"Dusty!" You scream and run forward, ducking behind rocks and burnt out cars in your bid to get to the deathclaw. Cooper rubs right behind you, taking pot shots at the line of figures that stand on top of the cliffs above them. One woman screams as a bullet catches her in the leg, and she goes tumbling off the cliff to hit the ground, dead.

The deathclaw rips through the men and woman who don't have powe armor, blood and gore flying in all directions, and painting his golden scales red. You arrive in time to see a man in power armor rip something off his back and onto his shoulder. The weapon glows a terrible blue, and you watch in slow motion as a bolt of electrified plasma flew through the air and struck Dusty in the chest.

The deathclaw goes down with a howl of anguish, rearing back to expose the blackened flesh of his soft underbelly. His scales crack and melt off, and Dusty falls to the side, the ground shaking when his weight meets the earth.

Cooper hears you scream, and the sound rattles him. It's full of pain and fury, rage, and disbelief. He watches you drop your weapon and dash forward, throwing yourself at the man who shot Dusty. You cling to the man, feet finding foothold as your fingers dig into the neck paneling of the suit and rip at the tubing and wires that connect to the helmet.

Steam erupts from the power armor, and the man jerks around, stumbling as half of his suit loses power. You find the latch to the helmet and rip it off, exposing the face of the terrified man who dared try and kill Dusty.

The ghoul shouts your name when the two of you tip over, the power armor useless now that its systems have been compromised. You appear seconds later, wielding your side arm. You shoot the man in the face until the chamber runs dry, shoulders heaving and teeth bared in an animalistic snarl.

With the fight over, with any other remaining Enclave having fled the scene, you turn on your heel and run to Dusty. You drop to your knees beside the whining creature and reach for his massive head, hands gently smoothing over his dangerous horns as you whisper reassurances to your baby.

"Is okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. Can you let momma see?" You coo, and Dusty lifts his head, moving just enough that you can see the awful wound left behind from the tesla cannon. Dusty whuffs and grunts, obvious sounds of pain falling from his maw.

"Cooper, bring me my bag," you order, and the ghoul does so without a word. You dig around until you can find your stash of chems and drag out the med-x and stim-packs you have. You have no idea if these would work, but you had to try.

"I need to see it, Dusty," you murmur, and Dusty shoves his head forward and into your lap, looking for comfort, and you easily give it to him. You hold his head close to your chest, and the beast breaths in your scents deeply, his milky eyes closing as he begins to calm down.

You look at Cooper, and the ghoul sighs, but he takes the medical supplies from you. He goes about moving around the deathclaw until he can see the burn. The med-x goes first, and then he injects four stim-packs around the wound.

The chems seem to work, for it isn't long before the deathclaw relaxes, his body sagging forward, and you grunt as you take his weight. His breathing evened out, and Cooper watched in muted fascination as the wound began to knit back together. He sighs and plops down in the dirt beside you.

You lean into him, and Cooper wraps his arm around your waist as best he can, kissing the side of your head. Silent tears stream down your face as relief sweeps through your body.

"He'll be alright, smoothskin. Dusty's tougher than he looks."

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #x reader #the ghoul x reader #dear hears and gentle people #fallout 3 #dusty the deathclaw #deathclaws

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stsgluver · 4 months

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can I request fluff drabble with geto where the reader has insomnia and he reads to her to help her fall asleep? Congrats on 2k!!

synopsis. you're struggling to sleep after toji's attack.

a/n. thank you!! I hope you enjoy <33 I keep adding Toji in as the bad guy atm and I will continue to do so. also to the lovely anon that requested the academic rivals to lovers I AM IN THE PROCESS OF WRITING IT but it's going to be a lot longer than a short drabble xxx

2k event

“what are you doing?”

you squinted at the sudden light that filled the room. glancing over your shoulder, geto was half sat up, the bedside lamp next to him casting a yellow glow over his tanned skin. he looked tired, eyes half closed, and you felt a pang of guilt.

“sorry suguru,” your hand reached out for his and you interlocked your fingers, giving him a light squeeze. “i didn’t mean to wake you.” you’d been trying to get more comfortable in bed because after two painstakingly long hours of laying and staring at the ceiling, you were starting to get bored.

you’d initially been close to geto, limbs intertwined and his arms securely around you until you’d decided that maybe you were too hot and that was why you couldn’t sleep. except when you moved away you were faced with the same problem and now you weren’t in your boyfriend’s arms – your predicament only worsening.

“why are you awake?” his voice was groggy and sleep was still evident. in any other situation you think you would have just curled back into his arms and let him talk you back to sleep, loving nothing more than to hear him whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

there was a look in his dark eyes though, one that said he already knew the answer to your question. that there was no point in telling him that it was the temperatures keeping you up because you couldn’t even really convince yourself that that was true, let alone him.

you shuffled close to him to rest your head onto his shoulder. one of his arms wrapped around your body, holding you as close as possible to press an encouraging kiss to your forehead.

“i see him every time i close my eyes,” you whispered, voice trembling at the admission.

geto was shirtless – as he usually was when he slept – and you could see the two large jagged lines that served as a reminder of the man that had nearly slaughtered the two of you and gojo. your fingers hesitantly traced the outline as a silence settled between the two of you.

you’d all been struggling since toji had attacked and you had lost the star plasma vessel. gojo had thrown himself into more training, happily taking on the additional workload the higher ups gave him. geto had become more withdrawn (something you’d tried to talk to him about and he’d dismiss everytime). you, on the other hand, had managed to maintain some kind of normalcy throughout your days, it was at night when all of your issues bubbled to the surface.

“satoru killed him,” geto murmured into your hair, trying his best to ease your racing mind. “you know i won’t let anything hurt you like that again.” you wanted to believe him, you really did, but the phantom pain that bloomed from the scar where you’d been shot throbbed. it was like it was mocking you that no matter how powerful your boyfriend was, no matter how powerful you were, you’d been bested by a mere man with a gun.

when you didn’t respond, geto slipped out of bed, leaving you to sit yourself up properly against the headboard. “where are you going?” you asked him tentatively, a brief moment of insecurity questioning if he was going elsewhere to get a full night’s sleep.

your face lit up in a smile, however, when you realised he was just looking for the book you’d left half read on your desk. when you’d first started dating, most of your alone time happened between lessons. geto would join you underneath a tree of your choosing, head in your lap as you read aloud and he took a nap.

“i love you,” you murmured once geto had settled back into bed. he’d committed to his bit, even going as far as to steal your reading glasses. your giggle was worth it and, for a brief moment, all feelings of unease disappeared for the two of you.

“i love you. now,” geto flicked through the pages to find the small bookmark you had made together, “where were we…”

#𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 #geto #geto suguru #suguru #geto x reader #geto x yn #geto x you #geto fic #geto fluff #geto fics #geto imagines #geto oneshots

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lev1hei1chou · 9 months

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By your side

Gojo x reader Genre: Angst to fluff Words: 4.8k Synopsis: Gojo survives the battle in Shinjuku Masterlist

Everything felt like a sick, twisted nightmare. It all started back in 2006, when Gojo and Geto were tasked with escorting the Star Plasma Vessel to Master Tengen. Although the duo tried their best, Riko Amanai met her end, which really affected Gojo.

To make matters worse, your and Gojo's very close friend, Geto, ultimately decided to choose a different path which definitely did not earn the approval of any sorcerer. Well, his ideals weren't the most practical or ethical, but nothing can really be done once he's fixed his mind.

Seasons dont wait for anyone, and just like that, a good number of years passed. You, Gojo and the others you studied with were now teachers at Jujutsu high. A new student by the name of Yuta entered jujutsu high and was welcomed with open arms. Well, not by the higher ups but no one cares about them. You pitied Yuta, for he was haunted by the girl from his past all because of a curse he bestowed upon her unintentionally.

The boy managed to fit in but the news of both him and Rika reached the ears of Geto, who took this as an opportunity to try exterminate all non sorcerers. The night parade of a hundred demons sure was eventful, but it also marked the end of Suguru Geto, the sorcerer.

To finish off his very own best friend with his very own hands was definitely a great ordeal for Gojo, but you were there for him throughout his mourning period. You shared his grief and helped him recover, atleast for the young talents that were now the responsibility of the teachers.

A year passed, and the boy you saw growing up was now old enough to be enrolled in Jujutsu high. You were proud of how Megumi was doing, since you witnessed his growth right from when Gojo brought him in.

History repeated itself when another teenager was put up for execution by the higher ups, but this was for a different cause. It was baffling, as Yuji Itadori was now a vessel of the great Ryomen Sukuna, due to the turn of events.

Megumi took up the task of narrating the events of that night to you. Although it was hard to process the wave of information, one thing was clear. Yuji does not deserve to get executed and this feeling was mutual to you as well as Gojo. You trusted Gojo well enough and knew he wont let it happen.

Months flew by and it was the 31st of October. Many sorcerers were called to Shibuya. A large curtain was cast, and civilians were trapped inside. It was later made clear that it was orchestrated by Pseudo geto, or Kenjaku and this was a plan to seal Satoru Gojo.

It was painful, to say the least. Your lover was now sealed and put out of commission. And seeing your friend's body get used like this was even more disappointing.

Everything now lay in the hands of the active sorcerers, and that itself was a huge burden to bear. Each and every sorcerer went beyond their limits, and that's when Geto's morally gray ideals ran through your head like a broken record. Forcing yourself to shake off the thoughts, you moved on.

The dreadful night came to an end and the aftermath was something no one ever expected. Your comrades were either dead or fatally wounded, the prison realm was in the hands of kenjaku and Sukuna ransacked the entire area within a short period of time.

To make matters worse, Yuji's sentence was now back.

After recovering from your injuries, everything sunk in. Nanami, your closest friend, was gone. Your students went through hell too. Gojo was sealed. And Yaga, was killed by Gakuganji. You werent particularly fond of the old geezer and this only added to how irritating his whole existence was. As fuel to fire, you heard through someone that Yaga was ordered to be executed by the higher ups, which just increased the level of hatred you had for them. Masamichi Yaga, the only proper and trusted adult figure you had in your life, was now gone.

After a list of events, it was obvious that Kenjaku was unstoppable. He went on with his next act of terrorism: The culling games.

The culling games were just as bad as what you faced on the 31st of October. Multiple sorcerers went against each other with only murder in mind, so you had to prepare yourself mentally. You believed in your students' abilities to make it out alive, but who knows what kind of people they'd have to fight.

Most of your comrades were a part of the games, from students to co-workers and the other allies made in the way. It felt like the heavens were against you being peaceful. There was no going back now.

You ended up running into allies, and when talks of the prison realm and unsealing of Gojo Satoru came up, you learnt that the only two items that were capable of nullifying the realm were the Inverted Spear of Heaven and the Black rope. All you could do was facepalm when you realised that the spear of heaven was in a location known only to Satoru, and the rope was burnt away when Miguel fought against Satoru. There wasnt any left. Sweet.

It was hard to deal with the absence of Satoru. Not only was he a significant other, but also a trustable partner and ally when your job was concerned. The one thing that kept you going was the fact that he was still alive, and could be unsealed one day.

And thus, you set out to find other possible ways to unseal him. After battling against a good number of curse users, you met Yuji, Megumi and Hana. You asked them about how they were doing, especially Yuji. Then, you found out that Hana could possibly be the key to unseal Gojo.

A twisted turn of events occurred, and Megumi was now Sukuna's vessel. Who wouldve guessed that the latter had set his eyes on the former. Yuji was no longer the vessel of the king of curses. Tsumiki was a vessel for some curse called Yorozu. Tsumiki was someone who you cared deeply for. She was an extremely caring person who wasnt even capable of causing harm to anyone. To think she was the one to become a vessel was painful, to say the least.

Sukuna battled out against Yorozu, and as an end to it, the latter lost and was killed, thus putting an end to Tsumiki Fushiguro. You wouldnt blame megumi for falling deeper into an abyss of darkness, as his own hands were now stained with his sister's blood.

A player has added a rule to the culling game. Rule 13: As of this moment- 9:09 PM. on November 19, 2018- No new players may join the culling game.

A player has added a rule to the culling game. Rule 14: The game ends when all players except Suguru Geto and Fushiguro Megumi have died.

Kogane's voice rang when you were with your allies. "To win, we just need to defeat Kenjaku and Sukuna" Maki said to you and Ui Ui. The young boy retorted stating that it was no easy task. Ofcourse it wasnt, but Satoru Gojo would make his return soon.

Everyone regrouped at the room and Yuji entered. You had a good number of formidable allies which gave hope for the next mission to be a success. Choso handed over a book to Yuji. And everyone in the place were now awaiting the return of the strongest sorcerer.

After a long discussion as to why it wasnt a good idea to unseal Gojo inside the building, the location was moved to a different place. The allies took refuge behind the rocks that lay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and hope. Angel used the jacobs ladder to unseal Gojo but he was nowhere to be seen.

Hours later, you were informed that Gojo was inside Shoko's lab with Ijichi and Ino. You were beyond elated to see the love of your life after 19 grueling days that were anything but uneventful but a hint of nervousness lingered for some reason. With shaky arms, you reached out to the handle. Taking a sharp breath, you opened the door and your breath stopped.

There he sat on the bed. For a moment, you felt like all the weariness from the past one month vanished into thin air after taking one look at the man. He seemed better than you thought, with extra muscles and all that. You pinched yourself slightly to confirm that this was all real, and thats when you teared up a little.

Shoko noticed your presence and signalled the others to exit the room. What a thoughtful soul. Satoru was now looking at you as well, smiling widely like the dork he is and waved at you to come nearby. Taking short steps, you walked and took a seat next to him silently.

"You couldve taken a picture when you stood at the door, it would last longer" he teased while taking your hand. You had prepared yourself beforehand to not cry, considering the fact that he wouldve been overwhelmed with all the news from the time he was gone. The task however seemed impossible as you broke down right there.

Satoru was shocked for a moment but then quickly regained his composure as he pulled you into his lap. Hugging him tightly, you cried, as if he'd disappear if you let him go. He was at a loss for words too, which was very unlike him, but hugged back and peppered soft kisses.

Breathing hard, you pulled away and wiped your face. Looking into his eyes, you took his face in your hands and kissed him softly, hoping to pour in all your feelings through the kiss. He was quick to reciprocate with equal love and even smiled while kissing. You realised how much you had missed him.

Pausing to catch your breath, you leaned your forehead on his, and the silent acts of intimacy conveyed all the unspoken words. You hugged him again. "I met Sukuna and the bastard in Geto's body" he started. Not liking where this was going, you hesitantly nodded. He took that as a sign to continue "We'll fight on the 24th of December".

You knew the date very well. This was inevitable from the start, so you decided to put all your belief on your boyfriend. A relationship is all about trust..right?

The fact that he didnt say anything about Megumi puzzled you, but it was better to not ask. "Promise that you'll come back to me safely" you said. He gasped, as if he was offended by the mere thought of you questioning his strength. "Are you serious?" he asked incredulously. "Its not that i dont trust you, Satoru. Its just that its Sukuna you're going up against." you paused before continuing "He has his own techniques and ten shadows." He was still visibly offended and turned his head to the side.

Sighing, you smiled and asked again. "Promise?" "No." he snapped jokingly. Slapping his shoulder lightly, you shook your head at how childish he was. "Fine, I promise" This moment made you forget everything that happened and you breathed in his scent, wanting this to last forever.

Atleast you had one whole month left, until worry would consume you completely.

As expected, the much dreaded day arrived and you waited for Satoru along with your students and allies. Yuji turned to look at someone and there he was, in all glory, accompanied by Utahime and Gakuganji.

The audacity of this old geezer to show up you thought. Hopefully he makes himself useful somehow. Just the sight of him made you want to charge and obliterate him right there, but you held back as his help might be needed. The hatred would never subside though.

"Sensei, your cursed technique's in the way"

Satoru smiled and pointed at his back, and Yuji took the chance to slap his back as a good luck. And just like that, Gojo left to the battlefield. Ijichi created a barrier and Utahime started dancing. Within a short while, the much anticipated battle started.

You stayed back with the allies, in order to observe every detail of the battle that unfolded, ready to jump into action whenever necessary. Anything could be the outcome of this battle and everyone was prepared for that. Anyone will have to jump in, with no concern for their fate and give their all.

The ongoing battle never seemed to stop even for a moment, with both sides using their techniques and domains. The result was hard to predict. Everyone keenly observed the intense fight between the duo.

The thought of what kenjaku might be up to lurked in the back of your head, but there was a well devised plan made, so you turned a blind eye towards the thoughts and went back into observation mode.

A strong and terrible gut feeling made you nauseous. Albeit putting your trust in Satoru, you couldnt ignore the bad vibe. As if your suspicion was being proven, something unexpected happened. Something that left horrified expressions in every face.

All you saw was Sukuna with Mahoraga, unleashing his next attack. Everything froze as you stared in utter disbelief. Satoru's body was cut into two parts, and his upper half fell to the ground. He laid in a pool of blood and you felt nauseous.

It was so quick, that you couldnt process it properly. Yuji stood up in shock, and Yuta reached out to unsheath his katana but Maki stopped him. Everyone else were frozen in shock and Miwa walked up to you and hugged you silently.

You couldnt even cry, as it all felt absolutely unreal. A million thoughts ran through your head. It felt like a sick joke. To get him in your life, to almost losing him to Toji, then getting him back, then the whole shibuya incident. Did the forces above hate you so bad?

Why make you meet the so called love of your life just to take him away? For fucks sake, he was all you had. The only family you had. The students were like family as well, but nothing measured up to Satoru. He was your everything: your love, your reason. When you felt like the world was against you, he stayed by your side. When you reached a standstill, he helped you. When you couldnt trust at the initial stages, he kept giving you reasons to trust him and fall hard.

Every single memory you had with Satoru played in your mind like a movie. Swallowing a thick lump, you reached out to pat Miwa weakly.

When you came back to your senses, you realized that time only froze for you. Kashimo was already rushing towards Sukuna. Breathing in and out, you noticed Yuta walk up to you. "Sensei, we need a plan to retrieve Gojo sensei's body" he said. Well, he had a point. But your brain already had too much going on.

Ieiri stood next to you and said "Get it together y/n. I know its hard, but we've got priorities. If you manage to retrieve his body somehow, I'll try my best. I wont let the only people from my life slip away again" "I'll help as well sensei" Yuta chimed in.

Inhaling sharply, you nodded. You didnt bother about what could possbily happen to you. With only one goal in mind, you sneaked into the battlefield with Yuta. By then, Hakari was out of the allies den and by the looks of it, he was going to fight Uraume.

Sparing no glances towards Sukuna and Kashimo, you and Yuta retrieved Gojo's body and narrowly missed a huge iceberg that now fell in the place where your boyfriend laid. With wide eyes, you looked at Yuta, who signalled that both of you had to leave. The nauseous feeling came back as you felt the crimson liquid seep through your clothes. Regardless, you thanked yourself mentally for acting quickly and not wallowing in your sorrows. There wouldnt have been a chance to retrieve your lover's body then.

For whatever reason, you looked back and what you saw made you feel a little terrified. Sukuna now was in a much different form; his face looked different, he had another extra pair of arms and he had a mouth in his stomach. The king of curses looked absolutely menancing. He also yielded cursed objects in his hand.

You then entrusted Satoru's body to Shoko and Yuta, and went back to watching the battle. You trusted their abilities, and your presence might be a distraction to them. Besides, your help might be needed in the battle at any time.

Within a matter of seconds, right after you settled in your seat, Ryomen Sukuna had put an end to Kashimo Hajime. By the looks of it, Hajime's one time attack barely had any effect on the king of curses.

Higuruma Hiromi and Yuji Itadori rushed into the battlefield, not wanting to waste any time. Yuji was fueled by pure hatred, as Sukuna was everything but good to him. Not only that, he massacred thousands while in Yuji's body and also took over his best friend's body now. Hiromi was strong as well. He'll have to read out Sukuna's crimes and let the judge do the work. But truth be told, that wont be an easy task.

The battle was intense again, with Yuji landing black flashes and Hiromi using his own techniques. Retrieving Megumi was important, but the question of how hasnt been answered yet. Sukuna doesnt show any signs of fatigue. Heck, he only looks stronger now.

There were no signs of stopping, and for hours allies swapped in and out to face the monster there. You went out to duel against Sukuna a few times as well, and now your body was decorated with injuries. He was extremely strong, even with lesser cursed energy. You felt that he was weakening physically, but to bring him down? Its going to take an indescribable amount of time.

You were capable of using RCT, so you managed to heal yourself and helped heal the injured allies as well. Everyone seemed exhausted, and the only thing that kept them going was the determination. After coming this far, it would be disgraceful to go back now. It wasnt even a choice to begin with. To give up would mean Sukuna happily finishes everyone off, causes terror and rules the world with Kenjaku.

More than that, to you, this was about your friend's and adoptive son's body getting manipulated like this.

A few more hours passed, and with combined efforts from your side, the curse that terrorised the sorcerer and curse user community fell. You were immensely proud of how every single person on your side fought for the same cause with so much determination and coordination. You also had a sense of gratitude towards each and every one of them.

You were worried about the man who was getting healed by Yuta and Shoko, but you were also glad that a main root of problems was a part of history now. The door opened and the duo walked out, visibly tired. They took one look at all of you and it didnt take long to realise that the enemy had been defeated.

Ijichi walked in with a figure in his arms. Everyone turned and now was facing him and realised it was none other than Megumi. The state he was in made you want to cry. Atleast the past didnt repeat itself fully like it did with Geto. The boy you saw growing up now lay helplessly, body full of injuries. You thought of what he wouldve went through and it pained you heavily.

When Ijichi announced that the boy was alive, you turned towards Shoko, unintentionally holding your breath.

She smiled a little and said that hes alive and well. And then, you crashed onto the chair, completely done in, letting exhaustion take over you. You were still bleeding from a few spots as you prioritized healing the others and now your cursed energy levels had been depleted.

----

When you woke up, the first person to greet you in the hospital bed was Kugisaki. Just her existence there made you tear up, as her return after the incidents of Shibuya was a question mark. Reality sunk in and you let the tears flow freely. The goals were achieved. Your first years were safe and sound. Sukuna was gone. Your second years and third years were safe as well. Satoru was okay as well.

Maybe the universe wasnt completely against you. It just presented you with multiple hurdles. You mentally patted yourself on the back for holding on. It does pay off in the end.

Nobara enveloped you in a hug, and cried with you.

"How are you?" you asked her. "Im okay, Im just glad youre awake."

Right at that time, Shoko walked in, pleased that you were finally awake. "You were out cold for two weeks dummy" she said, letting out a puff of smoke.

"Atleast I can breathe easy now" You got up and hugged her. She was caught off guard at first, but then she hugged back and relaxed. She wasnt particularly a big talker, nonetheless you understood what she wanted to convey.

"What about Kenjaku?" you enquired. "Oh that. Yuta finished him off. We have the body safely with us" Nodding, you walked up to the door. "Ill go meet Yuji and Megumi"

Maki, Panda and Toge were on their way when they noticed you walking towards Yuji's room. They called out to you and after chatting for a while, you learnt the details of Yuta and Kenjaku's fight.

Waving goodbye, you continued and knocked on the Yuji's door. You felt the wind getting knocked out of you. Oh its just Yuji himself. "Im glad youre okay, sensei" he spoke enthusiastically. On the corner of your eye, you saw Choso sitting on the chair. Smiling at him, you asked Yuji to put you down and pat your clothes down.

You spoke to him, and figured he was doing well emotionally, physically and mentally. That's good, you thought to yourself.

Then, you went on to meet Megumi. You were definitely worried about him. You smiled to yourself after seeing him sleep peacefully. Apparently he had already awoken a couple of days back, and even visited you thrice.

Not wanting to disturb him, you finally went to Gojo's room. The same feeling of nervousness hit you like it did when you met him for the first time after he was unsealed. You opened the door slowly, and it seemed that your boyfriend was already aware of your presence outside the door.

He smiled at you again, and opened his arms. He looked different for sure. You ran straight into his arms and he lifted you up in the air, hugging you tightly. This was really him. Your Gojo. He was alive and well. Cue the waterworks, you held each other and cried together. This was a very vulnerable moment for both of you. Satoru crying was not something you expected, but after everything, it would only be odd if he didnt cry.

Letting out everything you held in for this long was a nice feeling. Besides, you could breathe now. The love of your life was here, safe in your arms, by your side. There wasnt even an indicator of the events that happened in the past. And then you realized something.

Breaking away from the hug, you reached out to lift his shirt with hesitant hands. There it was. A huge scar decorated his body in the very spot he was cut in.

"Missed me buttercup?" he asked. Ofcourse he was happy to be back too. Tracing his scar softly, you realised he was not a figment of your imagination. "Why wouldnt I be" you cried out and pulled him in for another hug. "I kept my promise, didnt I?" he sniffled. You choked out a thank you. He then kissed you passionately and you were more than happy to return the gesture. "Deja Vu" you whispered out. "I'll always come back to you, no matter what. You should promise me that too yeah?" He whispered out too. Looking straight into his eyes, you said "I promise, no matter what."

"Do you wanna have some kikufuku?" he asked and you could only laugh. Regardless of what happens, your Satoru will always be the same loving, dorky guy you knew from day 1.

---

You felt someone pepper your face with kisses. Slowly opening your eyes, you saw Satoru, and he gave you one last kiss with an audible mwah sound. It was really happening, you thought to yourself. After cuddling for a while, you got up, just to be pulled back into Gojo's chest.

"Cmon baby its late" you said while looking at the clock. it was 12:30 pm. Looks like 2 weeks of sleep was nothing compared to a night of sound sleep with your other half. "Just a little more time pleaseee" Satoru whined out. Cant really say no to that now.

After a while, you both headed out to have breakfast and there you met all the other students. You didnt really want to press him on and ask about how he felt yesterday and ruin the moment. He's always been that confident individual, so you were worried about his mental state, after going through a defeat like that. Satoru isnt the one to talk about his feelings either, so you'll have to pop the question yourself.

After socializing with the students, Satoru pulled you away. But you weren't exactly done speaking to Choso.

"Love, what was that for?" you enquired, clearly not happy about being interrupted. "WOW I've been deprived of my rights to talk to the love of my life. What an unjust world we live in" he spoke out dramatically.

Laughing silently, you asked "where are we going?" "I dont know" he said playfully. Wrapping your arm around his, you went closer and leaned your head on his shoulder. He reached out to stroke your hair.

"Yknow, I met Nanami, Suguru, Yu and Riko" he started. You hummed. "I spoke to them at the airport for a while. Nanami told me to pick between south and north. But now Im glad I chose north" You definitely did not understand a thing, but didnt ask much. "How do you feel?" you asked. "Hmmmm lets see." he dragged out. "Im not very happy about getting defeated by that curse, but I think I'm more humble now" The last sentence made you laugh and he stared in disbelief. "Are you laughing at my agony now" he gasped out. "I'm not. But baby, you and humble dont go in the same sentence" you teased him now. "Oh come on. Im not very pleased to admit I'm not the strongest" he voiced out. "You'll always be the strongest in my eyes Satoru" you admitted. "will I now?" he wiggled his eyebrows and poked your arm.

Laughing at how adorable he is, you continued to take a stroll with him. "He was crazy strong yknow? Im not sure if i could have beaten him even if he didnt have megumi's ten shadows. I felt like he didnt go all out... In a way, I'm happy that someone as strong as him beat me" he commented. "Yeah, he was strong. We had a hellish time against him" you mentioned.

He may have lost against a curse that strong, but none of that matters to you. Satoru Gojo was here, by your side and that is more than enough.

---

A few days later, all the students and the remaining teachers paid their respects to all the souls that fell. Yuji placed flowers near Nanami's grave. Then, everyone placed a flower on principal Yaga's grave. Megumi stood near the grave designated for Toji. You walked up to him. "you okay?" "well i dont really care" he replied. Maybe Toji did care for his son, but never really showed it openly, so this is what he gets. Miwa silently mourned the death of Kokichi Muta. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Gojo and Shoko near a grave stone. You went near them, and figured it was for Geto. Wrapping your arms around both of them from the middle, you silently leaned your head on Satoru's. You were glad that you were able to properly mourn your friend and the others.

While walking back to your rooms, you smiled to yourself. Yuji and Yuta's sentences were now non existent, thanks to the work of someone. The annoying higher ups were exterminated.

Even if you lost loved ones, made multiple sacrifices, almost lost many people dear to you, it all worked out at the end.

You'd do your best to make sure that this peace never gets disrupted. At any cost. Everyone who you valued, were here, by your side.

----

A/N 2: it took me hours to write this and lmao the whole fight after kashimo dying was all just what i imagined. So yeah.

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chuluoyi · 3 months

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Ngl i rlly wanna know how teen gojo(when they newly get into a relationship)will react to the reader getting a nightmere waking them up in the middle of the night

ohh i think it would be after star plasma vessel incident🥲

during that day, you witnessed firsthand how gojo laid there in his own pool of blood, his throat and body cut open. it was so grotesque and for a while you were having nightmares about it

and so when you woke up on one night in cold sweat in your dorm, you just want him close. you make your way towards the boys’ side of dorm despite the prohibition and curfew, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes, shaking the more time he takes to open the door

when he does, gojo immediately pulls you into his arms, comforting you as you totally break down in tears. he’s trying his best to reassure you that he’s alright now, despite a foreign sensation in his chest—for the first time he realizes that seeing you cry hurts him too

#another wip~#—chu’s mailbox 📬#—headcanons☁️#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠

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okkotsuus · 1 year

Text

CHASING MEMORIES (satoru g. + suguru g.) !

features: satoru gojo ... suguru geto

contents: tw. spoilers. death. major character death. reader death. grief. loss. blood. descriptions of wounds. crying. unrequited love. killing. toxic relationship (technically). 1.5k words.

tagging: @saeonara

notes: this is lowk doodoo poopy but idc i wrote it at 1am as a cry for help, someone save me from stsg angst brainrot.

loving suguru geto is the kind of experience that is ingrained into every fiber of your being. it works its way into every waking thought. it contaminates every last drop of cursed energy in your body. loving suguru geto is an all consuming thing: more potent than any disease to every afflict a human.

the way his eyes shine when they finally reach you. the way his voice sings your name like the sound of the morning birds. the sound of his laughter that choruses like windchimes. these things never leave you. no matter how hard you may try.

this is a truth to this world that satoru gojo would learn far too late.

many things had caught satoru gojo unaware during his youth: toji fushiguro’s strength, riko amanai’s death, and suguru’s defection. but once he reached twenty-seven, he had thought that he had it all figured out.

he was the strongest sorcerer, untouchable. he had a class full of students that would be able to lead the world one day. but most importantly, he had you.

you who lights up his world like the damn sun. you who is the single person he turns off his infinity for. you who he is able to allow his muscles to untense around. to satoru gojo, you were the world and every good thing in it; everything he ever needed and ever will need.

but, to you, satoru gojo was a stand-in. he would not realize this until that fateful day: the day he was caught unassuming once again.

satoru gojo looks upon high school with a fond sense of nostalgia, missing what was once. the only thing he doesn’t miss was your disregard to him. the you who would flutter around suguru like he was the earth to your moon. the you who looked at him with that sense of utter adoration in your e/c eyes. the you who loved his best friend and didn’t even think of him as a friend.

it was satoru gojo’s idea to not call you to help he and suguru with protecting the star plasma vessel, despite your cursed technique being the one thing that could have insured her life. oyt of jealousy, he wanted to part you and suguru for but three days. he would regret that decision for the rest of his mortal life.

when riko amanai died, a sense of guilt flooded him: knowing she died because of his selfishness. but suguru felt the same for himself: despite it being everything but his fault. satoru didn’t see it until it was far too late. but you did.

you saw the tire in suguru’s eyes as the light in him died. you saw him begin to wither away, not lifting a fork to raise sustenance to his mouth unless you practically begged him to. you saw the way his hair and skin grew dull, lips cracking and oozing saccharine lifeblood. it was only you that was able to see him spiral from the very beginning.

then, that night when suguru left for that mission in the countryside: deep down, you knew he would not return. because you knew suguru geto in the way that newborn babies know how to breathe. in the way that the plants know the sun’s sweet, amber glow. in the way that the river rocks knew the gentle lap of crystal-blue rapids. you knew suguru geto in the way that nobody would ever know anything.

and that’s what made it hurt.

for a long while, you found yourself unable to do anything after he left. you would find yourself switching between crying in shoko and satoru’s arms, even masamichi on rare occasions. to you, suguru was the world. you thought of suguru how satoru thought of you.

what you didn’t know, was that suguru had tried to come back for you. on a night where you weeped against satoru’s blazer for the nth hour, suguru geto was at the window. but satoru knew, his six eyes picked him up almost instantly. again, he chose to be selfish, clutching you tighter where suguru could see. satoru doesn’t recognize the person he was during this exact moment: breaking his own best friend’s heart and preventing his one love from seeing him.

a part of you left with suguru, what remained of you was cherished by satoru like a flower. slowly, over years, you allowed your heart to open, to love satoru gojo. but never once did you love him like you loved suguru geto. somewhere in himself, he knew, but he stamped that feeling so far down that it wouldn’t see the light of day. until, today.

today when your e/c eyes meet suguru geto’s once again. but this time, it would truly be the last time. he was a mess, disheveled and bleeding out in a way you knew would be unable to be healed: even by the one and only ieri shoko.

you crashed to your knees at his side, feeling your kneecaps shake for the briefest moment under your skin from the force. fat tears rolled down your cheeks, crying like you had never cried before. satoru knew he shouldn’t interfere, but he, selfishly, stands just within ear and eyeshot.

words pour from your lips like a tsunami, confessions of everything you had felt these last ten years. desperately you press your hands against his wounds, deluding yourself that the pressure will stop the life from quite literally spilling out of him. your hands are warm and sticky with his blood, iron filling every breath you take in. suguru reeks of death before he even dies.

suguru just smiles, eyes creased as his lips pull. that does nothing to ease you, if anything it sends you more frantically pressing your body to his, begging him to hold on, to let you call shoko. his hands are the same, slightly calloused and oh-so warm, as they cup your cheeks.

“my love, there is no saving me.” his words shake you, not in the way of being told something you didn’t know; but rather, in the way of being told something you had been desperately trying to deny. you weep, silently, allowing the only man you have only truly loved to find the last bit of strength in himself to push you off of him.

satoru begins to realize the truth at that point. he helps you onto your shaky legs, leading your outside the alley and propping you against the brick wall. only then he returns to his best friend’s side to finish the job.

words cannot describe what satoru feels, every memory of his childhood swarming him. the world cruelly forces him to be the one to end suguru’s life, lest he become a cursed spirit. they exchange their final words, suguru uttering well wishes for you and him: something satoru finds almost ironic now. then, he’s dead, but satoru cannot bring himself to destroy his body: nor can he ask you or shoko to.

satoru leaves that alleyway to hold you against him: needing to find out if what he had known all along was true. but all he finds is you crumpled against the ground: not a single injury on you.

it is at this moment he remembers the part of you he overlooked. your cursed technique was called: life link, it allowed you to link two souls together through your cursed energy. slowly, the realization set in, in the years he had known you: he had never sensed your cursed energy to be at full.

he sees it all now: everything the six eyes had told him, everything he denied. the way you would look at him when he goofed off, as if you were looking right through him. the way you would always want to make sure he had eaten, that he slept. the way you never once spoke of suguru to him. it was all because you never got over suguru geto.

it was in that moment that satoru gojo realized that you never loved him. you loved the memory of a man that satoru reminded you of. he realized that you never looked at him: but rather the image of suguru geto that he embodied.

he doesn’t cry, he has known it the entire time, but it still aches in his chest as he stares down at your lifeless body. he remembers seeing the line of cursed energy that connected you to suguru geto all those years ago, but he denied it so vehemently that the six eyes stopped registering it.

it was on this day: december 24th, 2017, that satoru gojo killed both his best friend and his lover.

okkotsuus 23

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novelizt · 9 months

Text

THE CAUTIOUS TALE OF LIVING WITH ONE: ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ fluff with angst. strangers to housemates to lovers.

WC ➺ 6.9k

SYNOPSIS ➺ and they were roommates (kind of)

WARNING ➺ brief mention of poisonous candles + food delivery service (if that diverges from canon), and also mentions of skincare (if you're not into that)

DISCLAIMER ➺ fem! reader; fashion designer! reader; and i have magically added another room on the second floor. your room is across from lockwood's; you're welcome. reader is also implied to be short. lockwood calls reader 'love' but they're in denial.

NOTE ➺ is it obvious that i'm in love with him? i am obsessed with lockwood x designer!reader lately. like, imagine lockwood being her muse and arm candy to fashion shows?? him being styled by her before hunting ghosts so he's ready for interviews after?? power couple, i love them. i hope you love them too.

It was one thing having a meet-cute with a pretty boy you met at a corner store, it was another to find out that he was going to be your landlord.

For starters, it wasn't very cute after the whole 'fantasizing over the possibilities' bit.

Sure, Lockwood sometimes leaves his door open; giving you a clear view of him loosening his tie and then shrugging off his shirt, but that image would often be tarnished by George walking out of his own room without trousers on. At that point, all you could think about was seeing two boys—in varying levels of half-nakedness—and how disturbed you are instead of turned on.

When you lounged about while they were on a case, you'd find articles of clothing strewn all over the place. Some of them even corroded by plasma — gross. You had the courtesy of sorting them out and even cleaning up, but you learned to be cautious of their buddy, Skull (who was best friends with Lucy, apparently), and the newspaper clippings that often narrated gruesome details you wished you could unsee.

Lastly, the fact that you lived in the same house but lived in different worlds. You were up during the day while he was up at night. All three members of Lockwood & Co. had to bear with you because your portion of rent was enough to stabilize their financial situation. Occasionally, you wondered if things would be different if you were talented—if you had the ability to go on their excursions with them; but you'd shoot down those thoughts and convince yourself to sleep instead.

The longing to be part of his world only grew stronger the longer you stayed in the room across his. The halls were ornamented with pictures of Lockwood & Co. Usually Lockwood, since he was the spearhead. With very new headline cut out from the gazette, you imagined being part of their close-knit group. From the outside looking in, they were family. Not by blood but by choice. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd admit that you were jealous, but you believed you had no right to be.

You were studying fashion, like you had always dreamed of. You had a cozy little room in a homely house. Your doubtful parents weren't around to poison your passion... but you missed being one part of a whole. You missed having people to rely on; people to gush to when your teacher said something particularly flattering; people to rush home to after a hard day when all you wanted to do was cry. But you settled for the comfortable silence between the four of you on the rare mornings you were all up at the same hour.

That morning, specifically, you kept your head down as you scuttled behind George's chair, trying to seem inconspicuous about the redness under your eyes. About to ask for some tea, you saved your breath when George pointed to the pot; your favorite brew already steaming inside.

"Thanks," you quipped, grateful to simply have to pour and sip to be engulfed by the comforting warmth of your favorite beverage.

"How was your sleep?" Lockwood asked. His voice was accompanied by the flippant noise of a newspaper being turned. That usually meant everyone was in high spirits and looking out for a new article about their great service.

"Good," you replied. "How was your case?"

Lucy glowed above her plate of waffles. "Amazing—"

"Extraordinary," George said, surprisingly more excited then Lucy.

Their enthusiasm wrapped around you and pulled you into their world for a moment. You smiled and sipped your drink. "You two sound happy. What happened?"

Lockwood looked up from his newspaper as George began to recount the tale. "Lucy kept hearing matches being struck, none of us understood why."

Lucy sat up a little straighter. "Then George found an old candle stump that had been left there. He said it smelled weird—"

"And I recognized the smell of green corn," Lockwood chipped in.

George leaned into his seat, flabbergasted at what that had just accomplished. "The bloke realized it was phosgene! How could you even know that?"

"Because I have plenty of books to read, Georgie," Lockwood said, feigning humility. He finally turned his eyes on you, looking like a kid on Christmas eve. "The candles had been infused with a poisonous substance. Whenever they were lit, the smoke would slowly poison the people who had the misfortune of breathing it in. We would have never figured it out if I didn't know that tidbit of information."

"Amazing," you gasped in true wonder.

Their line of work was risky but these three never ceased to surprise you with their brilliant feats, no matter which day of the week it was.

"Amazing, indeed," Lucy agreed.

Seems that Lucy and George were so overjoyed by their tryst that they either didn't notice or didn't mind that Lockwood had gotten a second biscuit from right under their noses. He held a finger to his lips and you mimed that your lips were zipped. He graced you with your favorite smile and you leaned against the counter to keep yourself upright.

"Oh, I feel hungry for jam," George said out of the blue. He turned in his chair and pointed to the shelf above you. "It's all the way up there. Mind getting it for me, dear housemate?"

"I don't mind at all, housemate," you replied with cheer. You turned to see just how far up he placed it, only to pale. He had stored it on the tallest shelf. It was so high up that you felt like the jar was running away from you.

"So that's where you put it!" Lucy shrieked, outraged. "It was no wonder I couldn't find it! You evil, evil man, George Karim."

"It was for the good of the house," George said discourteously.

"The good of the house my arse—"

Lockwood called your name abruptly. He said your name so carefully, you had a hunch that he was reading your mind. Your eyes snapped to him to find that he was already behind you. Your back virtually pressed to his chest; and man, was he warm. "Let me," he said. It might have just been you, but it sounded like he had spoken in cursive. You were in your head when he placed a gentle hand on your hip. His touch light and now seared into your memory.

"You cried. Did anyone hurt you?" he whispered. It was a struggle to keep yourself still.

"No. Just a rough day," you admitted, hoping your misery didn't blend into your tone.

"Oh," he rasped. "I hope you feel better now, love."

You tried to keep your voice stable. "I do. Thanks."

As quick as he had come, he was gone; delivering the jar to the thinking cloth and resuming his seat. You wonder how could he be so casual when your insides had forgotten how to function. After a moment of (hopefully) covert gaping, you willed your breathing to even and gulped down the rest of your tea.

—

No one knew how it happened. One day, Lockwood's dresser was bee-free; the next, it wasn't.

Apparently, Lockwood had left his window open all night and the bees got excited over the lemongrass essential oil in his drawer.

"Why do you even have lemongrass essential oil in your room?" George asked, ticked off.

Lockwood looked affronted by the question. "Do none of you have methods to relax yourselves?"

Regardless of his answer, you would all have to wait 'til morning to call a bee-keeper to safely take the bees out. For now, Lockwood had been buzzed out of his own room.

Lucy hobbled up to her room and locked the door when George brought up the question about where Lockwood would stay for the night. With a glance, George understood that Lockwood would not go into his room even if he was invited. George retired to his own quarters.

That left you and Lockwood to idle by the stairwell. You didn't know air could feel so thick 'til then.

"Well," Lockwood started, suddenly interested in the carpet. "I might just stay downstairs. He couches are lengthy enough."

The image of the boss of the house, your landlord and friend, retiring pitifully to the aged and sunken sofas was just sad. Pathetic, really.

You shook your head. "Stay in my room. I have a project I'm working on anyway. I won't be sleeping much."

"I couldn't possibly—"

You cut his niceties short. "You have a case to tackle tomorrow, if I recall correctly, and it's reportedly a type two. It won't sit right with me if you don't get ample rest for it. Lucy and George depend on you."

"I guess so," he conceded, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

The short journey to your room was the most shy you'd ever seen Lockwood. He was hunched into himself when he passed your door, welcomed into your corner of the world.

He had only seen glimpses of your abode. That was when you left your door ajar. Seeing it in full felt like a warm hug. The room felt so... you; from the disarray of your weighed blanket to the swaths of fabric laid across your worktable. Despite never having been in here after you moved in, he felt right at home. (Which he was, but it felt different somehow. He couldn't explain it even if you asked him.) The color returned to his face, accompanied by a sheepish smile.

"Make yourself comfortable," you said, pointing to your bed.

You gave him a feeble smile. He returned it with doubled enthusiasm before you dropped into your favorite chair and pulled what looked like the beginnings of a fabulous coat to your sewing machine.

He had settled into your sheets with ease, burying himself in your blanket that immediately drowned him with the smell of you. If he had to die, he'd like to die like this. But also, he'd like not to die because watching you from where he was felt so nice. It felt normal, and the easiness of all of this made him too giddy to rest.

The lights were dimmed and he found that you had a specific light angled at your worktable so you wouldn't disturb him.

He hid a smile under your blanket.

Even when drowse began to creep up on him, he peeled his eyes open to watch your hands work the fabric with the gentleness one would have with a baby. Your love in your work was evident in the way your eyes didn't stray and the way you continued despite the little pricks you'd get while pinning the fabric down.

Lockwood found ghost-hunting cool. He would spend all day watching a fencing match, but he could spend his whole life watching you and your love for your craft. That was the first time he had seen you work and he wished he had been more curious to see it sooner.

He fell asleep to the image of you taking a break and blessing him with a tender smile. He wasn't sure if that part was a dream.

—

George had made the earliest call to have the bees dealt with. Lockwood was relieved and disappointed at the same time. He was glad to have his room back but he'd also like to have an excuse to stay in yours. The rest of the house assumed that he was moody all morning because of the hive, so you took it upon yourself to lighten his mood.

In the middle of breakfast, you had excused yourself. He stared at your back, wondering what could possibly be so important that you skip out on the rare occasion of cake-for-breakfast. His queries came to a halt when you returned with an article of clothing folded between your arms.

It was the same color of the fabric he'd seen you putting together the last night, so it must have been what you were working on. You had finished it quickly. Judging by the smile on your face, you were happy about it, too.

"Ta-da," you sang, unraveling the piece and brandishing it in all its glory.

The outside was slate black serge fabric and the inside was lined with maroon silk or velvet. Whatever it was, it made the ensemble look especially lavish.

The surprise didn't end there. You swayed the lush coat in Lockwood's direction, smile growing as his shock did.

"For me?"

"For you," you confirm.

He takes the coat into his hands, marveling at the feel of it and reeling at the fact that he had watched you make this.

You all watched as a smile formed on his face. His eyes bright when they landed on you. "You're magic, you know that?"

Your cheeks warmed. You offered a modest laugh. "I saw yours covered in plasma burns. I thought you'd prefer a new one."

"I'll treasure this forever," the way he handled it with careful mindfulness proved it. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It's the least I can do."

For a moment, you two smile at each other; feeling the words that neither of you were confident to say yet. It was lovely, and something you would definitely be remembering while you screamed into your pillow and kicked your feet at the end of the day.

George's voice brought you back to reality. "Hey, where's our coats?"

Lucy nodded in the midst of chomping down on a biscuit.

"In progress, don't worry," you assured smilingly.

Watching all three of his favorite people smile at each other made Lockwood falter. Well, George was trying to hide his behind his morning paper but they all knew he was smiling. Lockwood couldn't help his smile from growing, too.

—

Lockwood did his best to keep the coat pristine, he really did. He was conflicted between wearing it out or keeping it stored in his armoire. If he wore it, it would get ruined by the ghosts he was inevitably going to face. If he didn't, you would think he didn't appreciate it. There was no lesser evil, both would be equally anguishing.

Inevitably, you asked if he'd tried the coat yet, he had to wear it and show you how much he appreciated it. Later that day, he was harrowed by a single hole that singed straight through the tail of it.

"It isn't that bad, really," Lucy tried to say placatingly. Lockwood simply sunk into himself more.

"It's my favorite coat," he agonized.

"Roommate number three can always make you a new one," George said reasonably. "I mean, she does it for a living."

"Yeah!" Lucy said, trying to bring Lockwood's soul back. "I mean, look at that!"

When he looked up, he didn't know what was worse. The hole in his favorite coat or the boy you had given a wrapped box to. At his front door even.

You waved the boy away with a smile fit for a queen then turned to Lockwood & Co. the moment they entered your periphery. Your smile was warmer for them, but Lockwood was too wrapped up to notice.

He brushed passed you with an uncharacteristically calculated "hello."

"He's in a sour mood," Lucy explained, surrendering her rapier to the umbrella stand.

"He ruined his favorite coat," George said in his horrible impression of Lockwood.

You chuckled and glanced to the stairwell, just missing Lockwood's coat tail before he disappeared into the second floor.

—

"I have something to discuss with you," was Lockwood's way of announcing himself into your room.

You spun in your chair, giving him your undivided attention. It was a miracle that he didn't buckle under your gaze. "Which is?"

"I..." He hesitated for a moment but steeled himself as he recalled the boy and the way you smiled at him. "You didn't tell me you invite your customers into our house."

"Customer?" You tilt your head. He could almost believe you were innocent.

"Yes. That boy today—"

Realization shined in your eyes. Your light laugh cutting through his sermon. "That boy wasn't a customer, Lockwood."

"Oh, really?" He quized. He placed his fists on his hips, looking more like a disgruntled mother than an intimidating agent. "Then why did he have a box, with a ribbon?"

You stood, placing your steady hands on his shoulders. He tried not to hold his breath but he had audibly gasped. If you heard it, you showed no signs of it. "Anthony Lockwood, I would tell you if I was doing business in your house—"

"*Our* house. You live here, too."

"Fine," you relented. "our house, but that boy was my cousin. He asked me if the gift he got for his girlfriend was nice enough. He needed a woman's opinion and he got it."

The information turned in his mind. When it had clicked, his expression faltered. "Oh."

"Yes," you chuckled. "Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be," you reassured. "I wouldn't play with your trust like that. Besides, I wouldn't dare do business here. I have my own boutique now."

"You do?" You were surprised that he looked more excited than you.

"I do," you confirmed with a smile. "So, you won't have to put up with me for much longer."

"What?" His smile dropped. It made your smile falter.

The tides had turned. He placed his hands on your shoulders and looked at you with the intensity he had reserved for the down-turned photographs in the house. His eyes begged for an answer and you gave it to him: "I'm... not going to be staying here much longer."

"Why?" He was demanding instead of asking.

You assumed it was because your monthly pay was important for him to keep Lockwood & Co. in business. You gave him a humble smile but he was hurt by it. "Don't worry, I'll still provide my share of rent so you can keep Portland Row afloat. I can help more when my business takes off. This place is worth saving. I'll just be living somewhere else."

His grip on your shoulders tightened. "But why?"

The laugh you gave him was humorless. "What do you mean 'why'? I'm not really an agent, Lockwood. I'm a tailor. You don't need me here."

"Yes, I do," he confessed. He realized what he had said, processed your shining eyes, and froze. "I mean— we all need you. The coat you made me is one of a kind."

You deflated. "Ah... Well, I can be Lockwood & Co.'s personal tailor . . . from a distance."

No, he wanted to scream, but he had run his mouth when he hadn't intended to. He didn't trust himself to speak again, opting to nod instead. You took it as an acceptance and stuck your breaking heart to it.

"From a distance..." he whispered. He didn't want to believe it. Envisioning your room emtpy was like living in a world you didn't exist in. It was a nightmare.

—

"I hear rent is costly in that part of town, perhaps you should stay here."

Lockwood was as subtle as a gun. He dropped that statement on you as you folded up your first box. You blinked at him until you registerered what he said.

"I can handle it."

"No. I insist you stay here," he continued. "As a friend—" he tried not to wince. "—it would weigh on my conscience to let a friend spend so much more on rent when it's perfectly comfortable here, in Portland Row — no where else."

He heard George mutter, "very suave, Lockwood," behind him. Lockwood chose to ignore it.

Your brows furrowed. To his relief, you took your hands away from the box. To his horror you took an armful of clothes out of your cabinet.

"Where is this coming from, Lockwood?"

"Nowhere!"

You didn't seem convinced. His anxiety only built as you packed more clothes into the box.

"You're doing this because you're worried?" you asked like you had an inkling of why he was really badgering you. He hoped you didn't.

It's not exactly the tune he was playing but he goes along with it. "Exactly. I don't know what kind of person you'd be rooming with, you know. They could be dangerous."

You contemplated it. You didn't say a thing for a long while and Lockwood was on the verge of breaking down when you had spun to face him, finally abandoning the box.

"Come with me then."

His blood stopped running for a second. "Come again?"

You rolled your eyes and Lockwood knew he's in way too deep because he thought you look pretty doing something as simple as that.

"Stay the night with me one time, so you know I'm safe." You stared at him, waiting for an answer.

He didn't know what to think. When you say it like that, he felt like he wouldn't be able to talk you out of it. You leaving felt more real then, and he was terrified of it.

"Oh . . . Okay."

"Okay," you repeated, giving him a smile.

He tried to return it but it lacked conviction. He couldn't feel his face when dread was nagging at him.

—

Your not-yet new place wasn't Portland Row. Perhaps that was enough reason to dislike it, or maybe it was the fact that this place was taking you away from home.

No, it was definitively he guy who emerged from the third door in the flat. The other two doors were your soon-to-be room and the shared bathroom.

Lockwood shared a bathroom with George, so, it was serious when he got the feeling that sharing a bathroom with Guy was worse.

Guy introduced himself as Leo. You greeted him with a pleasant smile but all Lockwood could think of was that Leo wasn't a name, it was a star sign.

"You'll be staying the night then?" Leo inquired. He wasn't doing anything malicious yet Lockwood felt the urge to size him up. Lockwood was tall on his own, he was intimidating when he wanted to be. Leo wasn't sure what to do with him standing behind you like an oversized guard dog.

"Yeah, just to get the feel of things," you replied. You had given Lockwood mercy when you unlocked the door and pushed it open.

He caught a glimpse of... absolutely nothing. There was a mattress on the floor but Leo didn't even have the courtesy of dressing it up with a bedspread. He wished you turned around and booked it then, but you simply gave a gentle smile and accepted it.

"Kay..." Leo said slowly. "I have an outing with friends so you have the whole place to yourself. Just remember to lock the front door properly. It doesn't click into place sometimes."

"Got it, thanks."

Leo gave you a copy of the keys and went on his merry way, actively avoiding Lockwood's pointed stare on the way out.

Being alone with Lockwood had thawed you. You laxed your shoulders and dropped your make-believe smile before grumbling at the sorry excuse of the bed you had for the night.

"Not what I expected it to be... I thought we could make it a sleepover or something but that is just sad."

"Very," Lockwood agreed. He closed the door to your room for the time being, saving both of you the trouble of agonizing over it. "Shall we head home then?"

"We're staying the night," you reminded him, pressing your finger into his chest with every punctuated word. "Besides... maybe this place has something Portland Row doesn't."

"Which is?"

"I don't know yet. I said 'maybe'."

The corner of his lip quirked up.

He watched as you rounded to the kitchen. It was connected to the receiving room, separated by a thin island rowed with barstools. He didn't have to peek to know the fridge was empty, he had your deep-set frown to tell him.

With a smile, he offered: "Shall I phone our favorite place?"

You sighed in delight, giving him that smile that made him melt. "Yes, please."

—

The restaurant you favored was always on time, but the delivery man had gone to Portland Row by mistake (since it was the usual delivery when Anthony Lockwood called in.) He had to go back and ask for the address.

The sun was gone by the time food arrived to your not-yet flat.

"Thanks, mate. Get home safe," Lockwood bade the delivery boy before closing the door.

"Finally," you cheered, setting out the table. Thankfully, Leo had the mind to keep plates, cups, and cutlery on hand. "I'm starving."

"You and me both," he grinned.

Together, you divided the dishes evently (Lockwood sliding two more dumplings onto your plate, simply because he knew you liked them) and filled the cups with tea. The light above the island was pitiful but it framed you in a nice, yellow glow.

His cheeks were full and you were stuffing your face, but the setting was so domestic he couldn't help but indulge himself. If only you two were at home, in Portland Row; that would have made this perfect.

After you had filled your bellies and washed down your food, Lockwood cleaned the table while you got started on the dishes.

"I... kind of miss home," you admitted.

Even when your backs were facing each other, Lockwood knew you were frowning. "We can go home now, if you want."

Silence.

He hoped you would agree, relent, and stay with him at Portland Row, but his hopes died when you let out a sigh. He chanced a glance at you and found you shaking your head. "Just for the night," you said, more so to convince yourself.

His heart deflated but Lockwood would follow you to the ends of the earth, so he just agreed and stayed silent.

Once he had finished cleaning up his side of the kitchen, he dropped the cloth beside the sink and, for whatever reason, trapped you between his arms while he reached over to wash his hands.

You had forgotten how to breath. Rightfully so. You were transported back to the morning you felt his warmth on your back. He had reached for something because you couldn't, he had noticed your red eyes when no one else did.

You were glad he couldn't see your face. You felt heat behind your eyes and a tightness in your throat. It occured to you that if you moved in with Leo, there would be no more of Lockwood's quiet moments of attention.

Getting away from him was the point of you moving away, but with that reality being so close, it hit you.

You would miss him terribly, you would miss the Lockwood & Co. family terribly. The question of 'was it worth the pain of staying?' haunted you at night. You would die for them, but it hurt so bad being the odd-man out for the rest of your life. And maybe you were overestimating how much they needed you around because they didn't need you at all, did they?

Your mind went blank when Lockwood backed away. The tears fell but you kept your head bowed to hide them.

There was an air of suffocating peace when Lockwood said, "I'll go look for a bedsheet."

"Okay," you uttered.

As he walked away, his footsteps rang out in your ears; Footsteps you've grown accustomed to because he would sneak into the library at ungodly hours, thinking everyone was asleep. Not you, at least.

He wasn't doing anything special but it quieted the pandemonium behind your eyes.

—

You had spent an extra few minutes in the restroom before you got around to washing your face. When you had arrived to the room, Lockwood had used a throw blanket from the receiving room couch as a bedsheet. He laid on his back, one arm on his stomach and the other splayed out to your side of the bed. His coat was shrugged off his shoulder and sprawled over his torso.

He raised his head when you entered. "Hi, love."

"Hello," you greeted with a small smile. You had to bend your knees to sit at the end of the bed.

You were reaching for your skincare before Lockwood sat up and seized your wrist. He was always gentle with you. That didn't stop you from burning it into your memory. You looked at him with a question in your eyes.

He held up two thin packages to answer you. "Face masks. You said we could have a sleepover situation, didn't you?"

You suppressed a laugh as you examined the packaging. He got collagen masks, from your favorite brand. Did he know that? You couldn't be sure. "Where did you get these?"

"From my bag?"

"I meant where you bought them," you nipped. "and since when were you into stuff like this?"

"I got them from store you told me about," he answered, leaning back on his elbows. "and I've been a regular customer since you told me my whiteheads could rival a strawberry's. It hurt my feelings."

"I'm sorry, you big baby," you snort, reaching out to pinch his cheek. He doesn't even fight it. "but it was true! And your skin looks so much better now. What else have you been using?"

He laid back fully, propping his arms behind his head. "I got that matcha cleanser you kept raving about, a PH-balanced toner... Oh! And that sunscreen you recommended me that one time."

You nodded, impressed by his dedication. "You look so much prettier now thanks to me."

"I know," he smiled. "Now are we going to do the masks or am I do I have to jump out this window and wrestle a ghost for some entertainment?"

You chuckle, patting his chest to pacify him. "We're doing the masks."

After a bit of trying to get the masks on right, failing, laughing at each other, then helping each other get them on right; you both laid back. Lockwood pillowed your head with his arm and blanketed your tummy with his coat.

The masks had to be left on for 20 minutes and what better way to pass the time than talk each other through existential crisis?

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Lockwood & Co. has done so much for people. You got commendation from Penelope Fittes! That's worth something, you know."

"I know that. I just can't help but feel like... I haven't done enough," the admission is like a weight off his shoulders. "People don't really crowd to be part of Lockwood & Co."

You turned your head, looking quite freaky with the paste-white mask. Then he sees your faultless eyes through the gaps and he falls all over again. "Well, you have so much life ahead of you to do more. The agency's impact on the world can't be ignored though, Lockwood. You've serviced a plethora of people from all walks of life. And for what it's worth, I want to be part of Lockwood & Co."

A disbelieving expression crossed his face. "Really now?"

You nodded then returned your eyes to the ceiling. You felt too vulnerable to admit it to his face. "I'm jealous that Lucy and George are fully capable agents. I love them, don't get me wrong, but I feel so inferior. I don't even have a choice to be part of that world."

"What are you talking about? You are part of that world. You're part of our world." He nudged your side. "You are part of Lockwood & Co., love. You always have been, ever since you stepped through the door."

"Yeah? Well... not in the way they are. They have talent. I can just wish I could help," you sighed.

He took a moment to think then he turned his head to you. "How about this; you can help us do research. I know it's not as snazzy as swinging a rapier but it's a pivotal part of our operations."

Your brows furrowed. "Really? You'd let me do that?"

"I would have invited sooner you if I knew you were eager to help," he replied. You weren't looking at his face but you knew he was smiling. "Only part-time though. You have a talent for what you do now."

"Thank you," you said, but he got the feeling that you didn't believe it.

"I mean it," he insisted. He pinched the coat that was draped over you. "This coat you made me; people will be fighting for a design just like it within the first year of opening your boutique. Mark my words."

"I won't give it to them," you replied. "this coat is one of a kind."

"How generous of you, but it would be a bad business decision to deprive the fine people of a coat as refined as this one."

"No," you chuckle. "I mean, this coat is really one of a kind." You flipped the collar of the coat over. Lockwood hadn't seen it before, but be saw it then. "See?" And see he did.

His initials and surname were embroidered on so carefully that it took the breath from his lungs. That wasn't all. Beside his name was a cheeky embroidered imitation of his favorite giraffe mobile and a little image of his rapier.

"It was a pain to do so I won't be doing it for anyone else," you told him, like you hadn't just put the stars in his sky. "Your coat is my magnum opus."

"Oh," he whispered, running his fingers over the threads. "Now I feel bad. Plasma burned part of it."

"I'll make you a new one in a year, maybe." You pinch his side. "Keep it in one piece until then, okay?"

"Okay..."

"And don't tell people about the embroidery," you said sternly. "I'm not made for it, and my fingers still hurt from trying."

"I promise," he chuckled. He lied. He would have to boast about it to Lucy and George. Maybe even Kipps, if he pissed him off enough.

"We still have about ten minutes before we take the masks off. Tell me a story," you requested.

"Bossy," he smirked.

"Story, please," you rectified.

He conceded. He thought about which story to tell you before settling with the original Beauty and the Beast. You scooted closer with every word he said.

"Beast is much nicer in this version," you said, stifling a yawn behind your palm. Lockwood's arm was going numb but he didn't have to heart to move when you were already so comfortable.

"Asking her to marry him every night when she's trapped in his castle is nice?"

"Consent is key," you retort. Your voice slurred off at the end. When your breathing evened, he knew you had fallen asleep.

He tried not to be endeared, but you had cuddled into his side. Your fingers found his shirt and clutched it like it was your lifeline. The best he could do was smile to keep the urge to scream in.

When the time for your masks were up, he peeled away your mask and then his, tossing them aside then readjusted the coat to cover you fully.

He did his best to refrain himself, but he was never good at that when it came to you. He dipped his head to allow himself a kiss to the crown of yours.

—

You two (read: he bent to your will) decided to walk home.

The morning was sunny and the breeze was friendly, you couldn't resist a little fresh air and the perfect excuse to hold hands with Lockwood. In your defense, he was the one who offered. "I steer, you relax," is what he said.

So, you let your mind wander as he steered you in the right direction. He gave your hand little tug when you two were about to turn a corner, tapped on your knuckles when waiting to cross the street, and, sometimes, surprising you with a cheeky pinch to your side when you weren't paying attention. There were so many smiles exchanged, you weren't sure who was enjoying the walk more.

Disappointment began to swim in your belly as Arif's came into view. Just a bit more and you'd have to let go.

Again, Lockwood demonstrated his scary ability to know what you were thinking. Instead of walking passed Arif's, he walked you right into it. He held the door for you and flourished his hand quite dramatically, too. "Ladies first."

"What a gentleman," you chuckled.

You wore matching smiles as the bell jingled above your heads and the aroma of fresh dough invaded your senses.

Lockwood reluctantly pulled away. "Go find a seat. I'll order."

You walked about, catching sight of a few couples who were out to enjoy the beautiful morning too, before settling down in a seat in the corner. It was a table for two and the wooden seats reminded you of home.

Lockwood didn't take too long himself. He found your table and set the goodies down. Your favorite doughnuts were a staple, but he ordered a slice of rainbow cake, too.

You had a bite of doughnut before asking about it.

"For you," he said, pushing the cake in your direction. "Consider it a parting gift."

Parting was easier said than done. In lieu of last night's events, you couldn't imagine leaving Portland Row for the lifeless flat. The only reason you had been able to sleep was because Lockwood was there—and he was Lockwood, no explanation needed. You'd rather feel like the odd one out and bask in the occasional warmth of Anthony Lockwood than be a lonely tenant in Leo's flat.

With a smile, you pushed the plate away. "No, thank you."

His lips twitched, holding back the beginning of a smile. "Oh, come on. Take it."

You shook your head, a smile forming on your face. "You have it. Congratulations on hiring the best part-time researcher in London."

He discarded decorum by propping his elbows on the table. "Will this part-time researcher stay in Portland Row?"

"Maybe," you quipped.

"You torture me," he groaned, setting his head on the table.

"As if 'in Portland Row — no where else' is subtle."

"I tried to be," he defended indignantly.

"I could forget about it, if..."

He raises his head, anticipation written on his face. "If...?"

"If you get me that coffee you promised me when we met. You haven't fulfilled that promise yet, and it's been a year."

He placed a hand on his heart, mouth falling open as he feigned being shot. "How cruel of me. Will you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"Coffee first," you tutted.

"Coffee first," he promised, recovered from the make-believe bullet.

For the final stretch, Lockwood dragged his feet and on purpose. He pretended not to know which house was his (even if it was infamously the last one on the street,) and even stopped and stared for a few infuriating moments to bide his time.

"That isn't our door, love."

"Your name plaque is right there, Anthony, you can't fool me this time."

"Really? Perhaps we should visit the opthalmologist then, I can't read it. The doctor's is that way."

"Lockwood..."

"Okay, fine." He conceded, letting you pull him along.

You got as far as the first step before he had tugged you back, hard. The momentum had sent you into his chest. "Oh, for goodness sake—"

"You're cute when you're mad," he smiled. His gaze dipped down to your lips, successfully making your breath hitch. "Consent is key, right?" You're thouroughly convinced that he picked that moment to swipe his tongue across his bottom lip and rile you up. "May I?"

It felt like you were using the last of your air and patience as you whispered, "You may."

Patience was thrown to the wind. He dipped you—like in those corny movies you swore you hate—and kissed you like his life depended on it.

It wasn't a life changing kiss. It was how much you'd been anticipating it that made it feel like a life changing kiss. He smiled against your lips and you couldn't help but laugh into his. You could hear the applause in your head, resounding and drumming the beat of your heart. There was hollering, too. It kind of sounded like—

You pulled away reluctantly. You had to place your hand between you because Lockwood had chased your lips.

Still dipped in Lockwood's hold, you recognized Lucy and George even if they were flipped in your vision and still in their pajamas. Their applause died down slowly.

"Uh-oh," George said seriously. "we've been caught, Luce."

"Oh, my, my, my," she played along, smile turning the right way as Lockwood pulled you up and oriented you properly.

His smile was bright, so you hadn't a clue whether he'd done it on purpose. You had a hunch though. You were just about ready to reprimand him, but he'd stolen the words from your lips by stealing another cheeky kiss.

There was no use holding back your smile when you felt him smiling against you again. You would have do deal with shennanigans just like this as a, now, permanent resident of 35 Portland Row.

Caution: Anthony Lockwood's magnetic field is too strong, and he clearly had a new addiction to your lips.

NOTE ➺ something has possessed me. i have never written this much back-to-back. if you're in the middle of a lockwood brain rot too, i've posted a few other fics you might like.

please don't be shy to reblog or share your thoughts in the comments! the world needs a little more anthony lockwood.

(my favorite fic writer also noticed me so i'm in my giggly girl era eeeee—)

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

#— ❨ 🌺 ❩ 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐀 ₊˚.༄#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood angst #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction

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just-jordie-things · 1 year

Text

[intro] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting. series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist ___

(y/n’s) cursed technique: [Hexing Eye]

Once she is in close quarters, she’s able to place a hex on her opponent, by conjuring her cursed energy and touching them. Thus rendering her able to teleport herself to them- or rather, her hex.

This gives her the ability to move about a larger territory with ease.

She currently hopes to place a hex without touching someone, in order to warp without the extra step. She hasn’t been able to master this ability yet.

[ introduction ] : "Find The Star Plasma Vessel" ___

[shoko<3]: this mission sounds more serious than the last few you guys have been sent on. you’ll be safe?

[(y/n)]: ofc i will be <3

[(y/n)]: besides, i can do this on my own, i don’t have to deal with those idiots this time.

[shoko<3]: that’s why i’m worried.

[(y/n)]: you think i can’t protect myself?

[shoko<3]: i know you can protect yourself.

[shoko<3]: but i don’t like the idea of you being alone out there.

(y/n) chuckled, sending back another sarcastic remark to her over-worried friend. She was starting to sound like a certain white haired sorcerer that she would just hate to be compared to. But she worked herself up over nothing. (y/n) was more than capable at carrying this assignment on her own.

Tucking her phone back into her pocket, she returned her attention to the task at hand.

Being perched at the top of the building across from where her target was made it easy to scope the ground below for anyone trying to get in the way of her plan.

The Curse User Group Q was nowhere to be seen, unless they finally ditched their ridiculous costumes. This was a relief, as they posed more of a threat than the other group Yaga had warned her about in his debriefing. A religious cult of some sort that worshiped Tengen as their god. (y/n) assumed even if she did cross paths with them, it wouldn’t have even been a fight. They were non-curse users after all, so what threat could they have possibly posed?

Standing, she double checked that her blades were sheathed properly on both hips, and once certain they were secure, did a quick round of stretches. Using her cursed technique to teleport into the building across the street wasn’t a simple feat, and she was still new to the method. But this was bound to be the most difficult task in her mission, so her confidence in completing it didn’t waver for a second.

After her muscles are loose and relaxed, ready for the travel ahead, she steps up to the ledge of the building, and closes her eyes.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

She tunes out any background noise in the city below, cars honking, loud laughter or chatter that bounced off the surrounding buildings and echoed towards her. The first task was clearing her mind of any distractions, no matter how minor. Even a chirping bird passing by could throw her off and be a danger.

Alright, Riko Amanai, where are you?

Clasping her hands together, folding her fingers delicately between one another, she brings her index fingers to her forehead, trying to better conduct her cursed energy, she keeps her mind clear of all but one thing.

Find the Star Plasma Vessel.

It takes a moment, as she does her best to ignore the gentle wind whispering against her ear, and focuses every ounce of her energy on her technique.

She was far from mastering Hexing Eye, but there wasn’t a chance of her getting into the building to retrieve the girl without breaking in, and her technique was the quickest way in without causing a scene.

Her eyelashes twitch. She pinches her eyes shut tighter.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Find the Star Plasma Vessel.

___

Meanwhile, a pair of Special Grade sorcerers are strolling casually towards the location Yaga had given them.

“Why didn’t he send (y/n) with us?” The white haired boy grumbles. “Would have been more fun than partnering with your rude ass. Again”

His partner chuckles, and shakes his head, not taking the insult to heart. He knew Satoru was just being whiny as usual.

“Maybe he sent her off to something else,” Suguru suggests, tucking his hands into his pockets. “She wasn’t back at the school”

Gojo’s brow furrows, puzzled at where she could be if she wasn’t at Jujutsu Tech. It wasn’t like her to be sent on a mission without saying anything about it to them, but he doesn’t voice his concern to his friend, not in the mood to be teased for thinking too much about it.

“Don’t worry about it. She can handle herself” Suguru says, as though reading his mind.

“Not worried” Satoru grumbles under his breath.

Yeah, right, Suguru thinks, but doesn’t tease him for it. Now wasn’t the time to distract him with silly remarks on his silly crush.

He would find the time to bring it up later, once the assignment was complete.

“Suguru,” Gojo speaks up again, his tone heavier than before. “We should talk about this kid”

Curiously, his friend raises a brow.

“What about this kid?”

“They’re just a kid,” Satoru says. His sunglasses cover his eyes, but Suguru can tell that he’s gazing off somewhere else, deep in his thoughts. “If they don’t want to be Tengen’s next vessel…”

“Are you suggesting we harbor them?” Suguru asks, amused at the idea. More so amused that such an idea came from Satoru. “The elders will have us killed for treason, you know”

Despite the grave consequence on his mind, Suguru shrugs a casual shoulder, still pondering the idea over.

“We’re stronger,” Satoru replies, finally turning to look at his best friend.

Suguru doesn’t say anything, but the smile on his lips tells Satoru that they had a deal.

“Whatever the kid wants” The white haired sorcerer says decidedly.

The pair were suddenly jolted from their separate thoughts, the sound of an explosion jarring them both and taking all of their attention. To their dismay, they turned to see smoke seeping out of the window of the building their target was supposedly residing.

They cursed, and in a blink had jumped into action.

____

The roar of the explosion instantly removed (y/n’s) focus on her cursed technique, and her wide eyes watched as smoke plumes poured into the air from the window she was just about to teleport through.

Oh no.

In a moment of pure adrenaline, she unsheathed one of her blades, and leapt from the building she was stationed at. Luckily any civilians who would have gawked at a young girl falling from such a height were too busy screaming and pointing at the apartment that had just erupted into flames.

The thrill of the fall lasted until she was about halfway to the ground. Gripping her blade in a tighter fist, she shoves it deep into the foundation of the building beside her, slowing her descent to a safer speed.

Her feet hit the ground soon enough, and she’s ripping her sword from the cement and breaking into a sprint across the street. If anyone shows any shock at seeing a woman with a weapon on hand racing towards the commotion, she doesn’t notice. Her only thoughts are on completing the mission.

“I don’t want to add any more pressure on your shoulders than you’re already carrying,” Yaga had said, before leaning forward over his desk. “But this mission is dire. I am only sending you as backup because of it’s importance”

“I understand” (y/n) bows her head before her teacher.

“I want this to be a milestone for you. A learning curve, I suppose,” He continues. “Gojo and Geto will be there, they’ve been tasked with the same assignment, but I have not told them that you will also be after the same goal,”

(y/n) lifts her head, brows furrowed in question. Her teacher answers before she could ask.

“I want you to work on developing your technique,” He explains. “And I want you to accomplish this out in the field. While you’ve made great strides in your training, there remains a great amount of untapped potential inside of you. I think this mission could be just the push you need to unlock the full extent of your abilities”

Her heart races in her chest at the thoughtfulness of her teacher. She admired Yaga greatly, so hearing such confidence he had in her made her own confidence strengthen.

“I’ll do my best, Yaga” She nods curtly.

“Now, I should warn you, there will be others searching for the girl,” Yaga folded his hands on his desktop as he continued with his debriefing of the assignment. “The Curse User Group Q are bound to make an appearance. For decades they’ve been trying to end Tengen’s cycle so he loses all sense of humanity as time goes on. The Star Religious Group may also pose a threat, but I would worry more about outside factors”

“Outside factors?” (y/n) repeats curiously.

“There are many enemies to our way of life,” Yaga speaks in a gravely low tone. “Even those who live in it”

Other members of the Jujutsu Society? (y/n’s) throat feels dry at the thought, but just as quickly, her heart begins to pound excitedly at the notion of taking on such an important assignment.

“I understand,” She states. “What else do I need to know?”

Before she can break down the door of the building, her heels skid to a stop. Suddenly, there was a large shadow cast over her, darkening a suspiciously large portion of the ground. She notices that the civilians around her don’t react to the shadow before she even looks into the sky, seeing a familiar sorcerer floating through the air on his shikigami.

And there was a girl in his arms.

“Tch!” (y/n) scoffs, her brows furrowing in annoyance as she sheaths her sword. Of course Suguru got to her first.

Despite her frustration, she follows after the shadow with quick feet, zigzagging through the crowd of people who had gathered to gawk at the explosion.

Yaga had put his faith in her for this assignment.

Her thoughts are bitter as she takes off in a faster sprint to keep up with the fast-flying shikigami a few hundred feet above her.

And she hadn’t even put her cursed technique to the test.

Her eyes darted up into the sky, hoping to gauge if the Star Plasma Vessel had been hurt in the damage.

All she’d really done was some simple recon. This was going to be an embarrassment to her record.

Geto and the girl were too high for her to gauge her well-being, but (y/n) assumed she must still be alive if he was flying away at such a speed. He must be taking her to a safe location. She feels some relief at least that the mission wasn’t a total failure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches sight of something else suspended in the air, just outside of the smoking window.

Fuck.

No matter how fast she ran, she wasn’t going to outrun the man that could literally teleport himself down to her as soon as he saw her racing in the opposite direction of every other person around her.

“(y/n)!”

He was before her in a flash, and she nearly tripped to the ground from his sudden appearance.

“Don’t do that!” She barked. “I could have run straight into you!”

She was more annoyed with his ability to easily teleport himself wherever he so pleased. Showing off was always his style, but today it got under her skin more than ever.

Gojo just laughs at her.

“Well then I could have caught you in my arms and we could have run away together!” He declares.

(y/n) rolls her eyes.

“You’re slowing me down” She spits back at him, before pushing past him and pushing her legs to go even faster to make up for the lost distance between her and Geto’s shikigami.

To her surprise, Gojo doesn’t teleport away. He runs after her, catching up in just a few strides.

“What’re you doing here anyway?” He hollers as he reaches her.

(y/n) doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even look at him. Unlike him, she was focused on this assignment, and didn’t care to explain herself.

He doesn’t push her to answer him, knowing that they were both working towards the same cause. But his mind does become occupied with trying to figure out why she was here.

Had Yaga sent her?

Had she overheard the assignment and come to scope it out for herself?

Was she paid by an outside party?

He shoots a quick glance in her direction. She had her swords with her, but she was in street clothing, which confused Satoru the most of all. (y/n) always wore her uniform when on an assignment, and it wasn’t like her to break the rules.

Besides, she was in jeans and a tightly-fitted black tee shirt. It couldn’t have been any more comfortable to complete the task in such attire.

It truly was a mystery to him.

“You know if you asked me nicely, I’d teleport us up there,” He says, finally earning a glance his way from her. “But only if you ask nicely”

“I’m not owing you any favors!” (y/n) bites back. “Not after last time!”

She stops suddenly in her tracks, her mind mapping out the city before her faster than Satoru could figure out why she stopped. In a mere seven seconds, she was turning the other direction and taking off at full speed.

“Where the hell are you going!?” The white haired sorcerer called, not bothering to follow her this time. Not if she was going to run off in the wrong way.

“Shortcut!” (y/n) called, throwing a grin his way over her shoulder, before she faced forward again and pumped her legs faster.

She didn’t need to be distracted by Gojo Satoru and his perfected abilities for a second longer. The jealousy coursing through her was enough to kick her adrenaline up a notch.

Running throughout the streets of Tokyo was going to be just the workout she needed today. ___

It had been days since getting the Plasma Star Vessel to safety, and Gojo hadn’t seen or heard from (y/n) since. The bounty on her head had finally lifted, but this girl still proved to be a real pain in the ass, so it would have been nice to have an extra set of eyes so Gojo could take a damn break already.

Shoko had texted him (y/n) had only briefly gone back to the school, just yesterday, but she was certain that she hadn’t spent even a moment’s rest there. The thought troubled him. If she wasn’t here protecting Riko, and she wasn’t at the school, where had she spent the last few days?

He didn’t realize that agreeing to this mission meant signing up to play babysitter.

While Riko demanded to be taken to her school one last time, Satoru pulled his phone out, and took a step back to try to discreetly send a text.

Geto notices.

[satoru]: shoko’s worried. if you don’t tell her what you’re up to soon, she’s going to come for my neck and then yours.

It wasn’t a total lie. Shoko had left a threatening message in his voicemail about making (y/n) a priority in the midst of this assignment. She made quite a few remarks about how if she wasn’t returned to the safety of the school tonight, she’d come for all three of them- Gojo, Geto, and (y/n)- herself.

Shoko Ieiri may not have the Limitless technique, but she was a force to be reckoned with. Especially when it came to her best friend.

Satoru hopes that (y/n) would respond right away, but she doesn’t. He can’t spend too much time on his phone, so with a sigh he tucks it back into his pocket and turns back to Riko and Suguru.

His friend gives him a knowing look.

“What?” Satoru hisses back at him.

“Nothing,” Suguru replies, but the tone of his voice implies that he’s going to tell him his thoughts anyways. “It’s just interesting how you can’t go five minutes without wondering where she is and what she’s doing”

Riko’s eyes darted back and forth between the odd pair, curious as to what they were talking about.

“That’s not true!” Satoru snaps back. “Shoko keeps spammin’ me. It’s distracting”

“That so?” Suguru replies calmly. “You’ve been like this all day. She’s fine. She probably went back to the school”

“Why hasn’t she been there to begin with?” He questions. “Why didn’t she just come with us if she was on the same assignment?” Satoru adds. “And why would Yaga send her and not tell us?” His curiosity was getting the better of him.

Or maybe it was his unease.

Geto shrugs his shoulders, his relaxed expression not wavering.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t worried about her, he could admit he, too, had some wonderings about her involvement in collecting Riko. Particularly why it was kept hidden, and she’s been MIA ever since she crossed paths with Satoru a few days ago. However, he had faith in her abilities as a sorcerer to fend for herself. Whatever she was up to, he knew it was for good reason. She had a knack for sniffing out suspicious leads. (y/n) may not be a Special Grade like him and Satoru, but she had proven time and time again that she deserved her placement at Grade One with her sheer intelligence and willpower alone.

It was only a matter of time before she mastered her Cursed Technique and took her place beside them at Special Grade. Geto believed in this completely.

“Whatever the reason, it doesn’t concern us now,” Suguru spoke kindly, but the look on his face told Satoru that he was trying to move on from the conversation. “Right now, we should just focus on Miss Riko and-”

“You have a girlfriend?” The child asked, hands on her hips as she sized Gojo up, not believing it.

Suguru burst into laughter, throwing his head back and openly laughing at the idea of (y/n) being anywhere close to Satoru’s girlfriend.

The Six Eyes user scowls at his so-called friend.

“She’s not my girlfriend” He says dryly.

“Oh. Makes more sense” Riko said, grinning at her own little quip.

“Brat” Satoru scoffs.

While Suguru is busy laughing, Satoru pulls his phone out again. To his surprise, (y/n) had actually sent him a response.

[(y/n)]: been busy.

Ouch. When was she going to learn that sending a period at the end of a text instantly makes it bitter? Gojo frowns. She probably did it on purpose.

Another text popped up while he still had the chat open.

[(y/n)]: i’ll catch up with you later.

Later? It already was later, it had been three days for crying out loud! Gojo scowled at the dry response that didn’t provide him any relief, or lead on what she was up to.

She must have still been annoyed with him from the last time they’d spoke.

They didn’t always have the friendliest of relationships. Most of the time that Satoru spent around (y/n) was unwanted, and she made that clear by shooting down his stupid jokes and meaningless flirtations. But at the root of their strange friendship, they were partners first, including Suguru and Shoko. The four of them had an unbreakable bond that no matter how annoying Satoru got, she still always had his back. And no matter how cruel (y/n) could be in trying to get him to leave her alone, he would do the same for her.

There were brief instances where the pair wasn’t a completely dysfunctional friendship. If he could be quiet long enough to watch a movie, or after a particularly draining mission, they could last maybe four hours without Satoru trying to mess with her, and (y/n) trying to start an argument.

It was rare that (y/n) was the one to annoy him, though. Usually he was amused by her abrasive reactions to his relentless picking. But for some reason, he felt annoyed with her now.

It just wasn’t like her to disappear for multiple days. He didn’t like not knowing where she was. Not knowing if she was safe. ___

On the day of the assignment, (y/n) had been taking a shortcut to catch up with Geto faster. She wasn’t lying when she told Satoru that.

But she never made it to her destination, getting sidetracked by another player in the game to catch the Star Plasma Vessel.

He wasn’t in any special attire giving him away, so she knew he wasn’t here on behalf of Q. But the blade strapped to his broad back was enough to tell her that he was involved, somehow.

And he likely wasn’t an ally.

He was probably twenty feet away from her, on his phone, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk while he spoke bitterly to whoever was on the other end of the line. Even if he wasn’t carrying a weapon, he still would have stood out with a tee shirt that tight clinging onto every muscle in his back and arms.

Curiously, (y/n) crept a little closer, hoping she was hidden enough in the crows of people between them that she could close and overhear his conversation.

“I told you,” His tone had a bite to it as he growled into the receiving end of the phone. “It’s Fushiguro now. Call me Zen’in again and I’ll forget the child and come for you first”

(y/n) froze in place.

From those few words she could make out, she knew exactly who that was.

Every bone in her body told her to turn around, and run. An instinct, deep in her blood, crept up her spine in a chill.

That was Sorcerer Killer Toji Zen’in.

Or apparently, Toji Fushiguro.

She’d never seen him before, only heard of him when teachers or upperclassmen would share hushed rumors about the deranged man. And even what she’d heard of him wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to know that if her suspicions were correct, she was in the very wrong place, at the very wrong time.

But, a voice at the back of her mind chirps. But maybe there was an opportunity here.

If her classmates were here, they’d call her foolish, and tell her to turn the hell around and walk the hell away. But they weren’t here. She was alone, and this was her decision to make, alone.

(y/n) was no coward. She was never one to shy away from a fight, even when she was outnumbered. She would put everything she had into fighting for the things she believed in.

And she certainly believed in taking a man like this down.

So with quiet steps, she drew nearer to the assassin, listening in to what else he had to say to the stranger on the other end of the call.

“You think that I could give a shit about those rugrats?” He snarls. “What happens to them is none of my concern. They’ll get a check in a few days when this bullshit assignment is up. And then I’m taking the rest to the track”

Who was he talking about?

It’s quiet as he listens to whatever is being said through the receiver, leaving (y/n) to try to quickly decode half of a conversation that she had only barely heard.

The man scowls down at the ground, his hand tightening around his cellphone. (y/n) wonders briefly if it was going to shatter from the death grip he had on it.

And then he says something that has her turning and walking away, like she should have done in the first place. Her heart pounds in her ears and her stomach drops harder than it had when she’d leapt off a building just fifteen minutes ago.

“They’re not that young. The girl is old enough now to take care of the boy. Don’t ever question me again on my parenting abilities”

As she makes haste in her steps, she’s certain of two things.

One, whether it was wise or not, she was going to be involved, and follow this odd lead that piqued her intrigue. And two, if she was going to follow this man, she was going to have to keep very, very quiet about it. ___

a/n: well that's the first part !! i hope this catches some of y'alls interest, i'm really excited about this series :) angst to come!

xoxo - jordie

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