#geto angst oneshot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mikareo · 11 months ago

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“ ࣭⸰ ★ THE MOON SAYS HELLO. . . ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀呪術廻船; geto suguru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . part one of three ꒱ . . . word count; 3.6k

⊹ ⠀⠀despite his insistence on never falling in love, suguru fails to stop himself from becoming smitten with his best friend’s beloved. you’ve become a flicker of hope in his darkness— though you’re someone who can never and will never be his to have and to hold.

series contains; if gojo didn’t kill geto n geto was given a chance to redeem himself, redemption arc!geto, human caretaker!reader, kind of e2l but also not really, love triangle, gojo x reader, fluff, major angst, heartbreak, wedding at the end, swearing probably, geto refers to humans as monkeys per usual author's note; rewritten fic, will be 3 parts in total (i'm half done pls be patient w me im a slow writer...)

YEAR ONE, DAY ONE

His face is sore. So sore. It’s red, swollen, and sore after he’s spent the last three hours screaming in frustration with his current predicament. This is absurd, Satoru should’ve just killed him when he had the chance. Geto’s lost count of how many times his palms have slapped his own face; over and over again with wishes that he can wake up from this hellish nightmare the higher ups call ‘rehabilitation’— though he can somewhat still recall the first slap that he’d given himself around the half-hour mark. He’s got a pretty good memory…that doesn’t stop him from hoping his veins aren’t too noticeable as they angrily protrude from his forehead in crimson currents.

He’d rather be dead than imprisoned like this…like an animal…like one of those damn useless monkeys.

The intensity of his wails continue to bounce off of the barren walls— barren aside from the dark mark he’d punched in earlier— and echo like a party of lost ghouls in the bottom of an empty well. Geto feels like a mad man.

He’s only just begun his isolation and he’s already growing mad with boredom.

A huff escapes his lips as he plops himself down onto the twin-sized bed that’s nestled in the corner of his so-called ‘suite’. With linen sheets and a dark maroon comforter, it’s almost a cozy living situation; in another life, Geto could imagine himself cuddling beneath the covers with his favorite book and a soft record playing in the background for some ambience. That world is far far away now. Even if he asked for a record player, he doubts the higher ups would grant him one. He’s their most valuable prisoner, and they’re sure to keep him as miserable as possible until he’s one-hundred-percent pure hearted once more. However, despite their reluctance to grant him the things he wants, these aren’t the worst living arrangements he’s ever encountered and he knows that Gojo did his best to give him the best commodities he could to…well…a highly dangerous criminal.

This is the only path to forgiveness, he reminds himself, constantly trying to be optimistic about the utter absurdity of it all.

Optimism hasn’t been his specialty in a long time; anyone with a working pair of eyes would be able to deduce that, and he despises it. He’s quite rusty with the characteristic and has looked on the darker side for a while now— but wishes that he could be as reckless as he once was as a teenager. He can vividly remember how loud his laughter was with Gojo and Shoko, laughing as they chased each other throughout the school yard and using each other's cursed energy to their advantage in games of tag— but that would be near impossible now. His two best friends can barely look him in the eyes after the treason he’s committed. Gojo views him as a ticking time bomb and Shoko’s healed too many people to count that he’s harmed.

If he stepped one foot out of this room, he believes he’d be smothered on sight.

The Jujutsu Society fears Geto Suguru..

…and Geto Suguru fears himself.

In all fairness, he deserves everything that’s come to him. What he did was awful; mass murdering humans…trying to murder even more humans…harming innocent students…starting a war during the holiday season…the whole gist. There are obviously bad actions from the past that continue to haunt Geto to this day and will continue haunting him so long as he breathes— but that’s all it is now…the past. He wants redemption. He needs redemption. If Gojo managed to reach clarity within Geto’s awful decisions, then maybe he can too.

Geto wants to get better, to be better…not only for Gojo…but for himself.

This is exactly why he and his best friend has devised a plan, one that will hopefully help lead Geto on a better path— a five-year path that will only be completed if he truly wants it to, and a half a decade seems like quite a bit of time to most; but for Geto, he doesn’t know if it will be enough.

For Satoru…do it for Satoru…

He wraps his arms around himself in an attempt to comfort his heart that beats with fear every second of every day. It’s been so long since he’s been hugged by another, and he doubts he’ll ever feel that love and comfort from someone in his life. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s been alone with his thoughts with no one else to turn to; and if he’s being honest, there’s nothing in the entire world that scares him more than his own mind.

“Geto Suguru?”

He doesn’t recognize that voice.

The soft sound comes from seemingly nowhere, startling Geto with a slight jump. Whomever it is sounds frail and weak, obviously intimidated by whom they’re going to be in the presence of in mere minutes; and Geto already finds nothing but annoyance at his new companion. Of course they’re going to have prior judgment. He bets you already hate him for the rumors and stories. He doesn’t really have a choice whether or not you come in, though. Gojo insisted on a caretaker— someone to talk to so he doesn’t go insane by himself— and Geto will do anything to make his best friend happy. So, he stands up and dusts his pants off, making sure to look more presentable, and stalks towards the entryway. His hand meets the knob, yanking it open, and ready to meet the stranger on the other side.

Standing before him is you, a woman around his age. You can’t possibly be older than twenty-six, but perhaps you’re a few years younger. In your hands are various sweets and snacks that Gojo knows Geto loves, balancing on a silver tray that shines more light in the room than he’d care for. The reflections dazzle straight into his eyes, blinding him briefly with a scowl on his face. Of course Gojo would know to send you in with his favorites. He’s so predictable. His best friend is less surprising than he thinks, causing Geto to roll his eyes to the top of his head; though he appreciates the kind gesture. It’s far past dinner, though. Gojo must’ve struggled to convince the others to allow him a proper meal.

“Don’t just stand there, monkey.” Geto commands whilst gesturing to the small dining table in the center of his confined space. “Come inside.”

The instant you stepped into his presence, it was horribly noticeable that you have no cursed energy. Zero. Not a lick of it…and he struggles to hide the disgust with his body language. He can’t help but be annoyed that a monkey such as yourself is going to be in his company for the next five years.

With his distaste for you clear as day, he pulls out a chair for himself and disregards the kind option of pulling out yours prior; expectantly looking towards you with the expectation that you’re going to serve him his meal like a servant.

“Well, monkey…” he trails off disinterested, “I’m waiting.”

You hustle towards him, quickly and efficiently placing the special grade sorcerer’s meal on the placemat before him and taking the empty seat opposite. There’s a small breath you’re holding in, Geto can see it in your throat— it’s suffocating you with fear for your life as your fingers lightly tap the dark wood in a nervous fit.

You’re completely pathetic. As if a monkey would ever have the courage to speak to him. This is ridiculous.

His hands slam against the table with a loud bang. “What are you doing?” he questions, heavily interrogating you as you cower in your seat like a meak mouse. “Does Satoru expect you to monitor my meals?”

He really is nothing but a prisoner, isn’t he?

“What damage could I possibly do with this slob that’s been served to me by the scum of the earth? Start a food fight in the halls? Overthrow the Jujutsu world with a biscuit?” (If that is the case, in your defense, the biscuits are quite hard. There must be a new kitchen hand in training who based them.) This is a horrible day.

As Geto impatiently awaits your answer, a deep breath escapes your lips— perhaps a way to soothe your heartbeat into something less than a record-breaking speed— and you attempt to focus your stress and fear into a fleeting moment of zen. Your large eyes shut for a total of three seconds; one, two, three…before opening again. This time, as his own eyes make contact with yours, they’re shining with slightly more confidence than before as you swallow hard and settle your gaze on Geto— the look in your eyes evolving from that of anxiety to empathy.

“Actually,” your lips rise into a thin smile, “Gojo Satoru didn’t send me here, the higher ups did.”

Your eyes search Geto’s for any signs of discomfort or inner rage that could be boiling beneath the surface of his poker face. It appears that he’s grown even stronger at hiding his true emotions towards humans; however, you can see through the veil. Yes, it’s thick and difficult to brush past, but there’s a slight opening in the center that you peek inside— and what you can see in his heart is a man who simply wants to finally do what’s right.

“The higher ups are aware that Gojo Satoru has a soft spot for you— hell, everyone who knows your name is aware that when it comes to you, he has no reason. He has no right of mind. I’m only here to monitor and report your progress in an honest manner. That’s it. That’s all. I promise I won’t intrude on your life more than necessary.”

Shit.

“I’m sorry, Geto Suguru…but you’re stuck with me.”

It’s as if his left and right sides are arguing between themselves. His good conscience says that he should give you a chance, perhaps you could be different than the monstrous humans that attempted to kill his beloved Mimiko and Nanako; while his bad conscience tells him to let out one of his cursed spirits to devour you where you stand. Listening to his right side would definitely get him his best case scenario…a chance to see his girls again…but the left side would be so much more enjoyable. Oh well. At least the higher ups sent someone somewhat his age and not an ancient and decaying corpse like themselves. That’s a disgusting thought. He’d rather be hugged by a hundred humans than be forced to befriend a higher up. A shiver runs through Geto’s spine as a newfound appreciation for you is birthed within him.

“Do you have a name?” Geto taunts as he begins to pick at his meal, slightly disgusted with the stale quality of some of the snacks but nevertheless thankful that he at least has something to subside his aching hunger. “Or should I just call you ‘monkey’ as I do with the rest of your kind?”

That sound?

You’re laughing?

Your giggles are surprisingly pleasant to Geto’s ears as they harmonize into a song that he can imagine himself listening to each morning. Why did you find that funny? He was quite literally insulting your entire existence. Geto is dumbfounded by the strange humor you seem to have, considering that he was being entirely serious with his question. Humans are so strange. He’s never really been able to understand how your peoples’ minds work, but perhaps he could begin to learn the basics. It’s not like he has anything better to do, and some entertainment would be nice.

He’ll keep you around…it wouldn’t hurt and you can be his companion kind of like a pet.

Pets are cute…

…your smile is cute too.

You smile once more, answering his question with a blush on your face. “Please,” your cheeks redden, “Call me by my name, Suguru.”

YEAR ONE, DAY NINETY-FOUR

“You’re late.” Geto crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling a large breath of air in a loud and annoyed huff as he attempts to seem seriously angered by his new friend’s awful timing.

It’s nearly twenty minutes past the time that you were supposed to be here; emphasis on supposed. He’s been waiting with his eyes staring at the clock, watching it tick and tick as the time passed by with no you knocking on his door. That’s twenty whole minutes of time in which he was forced to entertain himself rather than listen to your rambles and rants about whatever the latest scandal is in the outside world. You love that pop culture gossip stuff that social media and magazines rave about, and in a weird way, you somewhat remind him of his daughters— personality-wise…not attraction wise…that would be weird.

Over the past few months, Geto’s grown severely accustomed to the daily routine that you’ve developed, becoming so fond of you that he strangely pictures your smile and recalls your laughter when you aren’t even here. Friendship is a funny thing. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a friend like yourself; yes, Satoru will always be his closest confidant…but his relationship with you is different in a way that he can’t quite put his finger on. He’s never considered anyone else the highlight of his every day like he does you. Your company is the kind of presence that he overwhelmingly enjoys; with such a positive and warm nature exuding comfort to Geto’s loneliness, and your judgment-free outlook on life rivaling his pessimism in a perfect mixture of negativity and optimism. He wishes he’d met you sooner, perhaps when he was a child— and if he had, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out the way he did.

It’s too bad you would’ve only been an awful human to him back then…he would’ve called you his infamous nickname without batting an eye…a monkey…

…a mere monkey whom he never ever thought he’d develop unwanted feelings for.

For his entire life, Geto always told himself not to fall in love. That love isn’t real. It isn’t obtainable, not when there are people like Satoru in the world— people that you can’t help but love— and then people like him; people who you can’t help but hate. With that being said, he’s never necessarily been looking forward to any potential love matches in his future.

…no matter who he was involved with…

…until he met you.

“Sorry about that, Suguru!” you hustle through the doorway, your appearance a tangled mess with dusty dirt particles littered with gravel.

There’s a large scratch on your right cheek, not deep or in danger of infection in any way, but noticeable enough that he’s able to see it from a distance. Knowing you, it’s most likely accidentally self-inflicted in some sort of way; you being notorious for tripping or snagging your skin on the sharp end of a table. How do you always manage to be so uncoordinated? Geto can’t help but let out a short laugh, his eyes scrolling up and down your body and taking in your entire appearance, dirt and all. You even manage to make dirt look good. What the fuck? He hates this.

Your voice carries on as you approach him. “I was running on time, but then I saw this adorable shop downtown and I just had to make a stop.” The overexaggerated tone you hold is amusing as your hands wave through the air in a physical storytelling of your experience. The skin of your cheeks is flushed red from your sprint through the city, looking beautiful in resemblance to that of a blooming rose.

Geto can feel his own face heating up at the sight of you, choosing to shrug nonchalantly in an attempt to seem as if he doesn’t care at all about your dilemma…

…as if he doesn’t care about every second of your everyday…

…as if your overall excitement isn’t the only thing that truly keeps him going nowadays.

“You tell me these things as if what you do outside of this room matters to me.” He hopes his words mask his rising blush. (Spoiler alert: They don’t.)

Flawlessly, you brush off Geto’s phony disinterest without the slightest acknowledgement. It’s as if the phrase had never even left his lips, with no evidence and proof of insult. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence when the topic of what you do when you’re not with him comes up in conversation, as the prisoner typically tries to ignore his interest in your daily shenanigans— and you can’t deny that it hurts. Most of the time, it feels as if Geto never actually listens to anything you say, and you were able to quickly realize that in the early weeks of your arrangement when the pain began to torment your heart; ripping and shredding it to bits with every eye roll and mocking scoff. You don’t seem to matter in Geto’s point of view. He doesn’t care…at least that’s what you believe.

In contrast to Geto, you’re an emotional spirit— you crave love.Love is all you’ve ever wanted, needed, and desired. In your time with him, you’ve developed inklings of feelings as well. However, you’ve chosen to let your feelings grow and blossom out of the dirtied patch of grass they were planted in— ignoring the warnings every single person in your life has given you in advance. Despite that, Geto continues to stomp on your budding flowers. He takes a heavy watering can, filled to the brim with hose water, and drowns your garden in the tears that you shed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those tears that are a never ending waterfall due to the fact that you know it isn’t your job to fall in love with your client. Your duty to Jujutsu Society is to help Geto learn to love humans and sorcerers as one in the same and to gain the trust of his community once more— not to love you.

“Okay, before you judge me, at least give me a chance to explain myself.” Stumbling towards Geto, you accidentally trip over your own feet in embarrassment, and proceed to hold out a single flower not yet in bloom. “It’s freshly cut. I saw a bouquet in the window and it caught my eye, because it reminded me of you; but I knew you’d hate a flashy bunch of them so I just bought the one.”

It reminded you of him?

Taking the gift into his own hands, Geto studies it intensely. The rose is a dark shade of red, crimson, or scarlet depending on your vocabulary. The petals are a brighter color while the plushness near the stem turns dark, more sinister as it approaches the thorns lining the sides. Just by looking at the rose, he can understand why it made you think of him. It’s gorgeous, but practically untouchable figuratively and literally. There’s only one angle that he can hold the stem at that doesn’t prick his fingers. Ouch. And he just did the very thing he was being so careful of avoiding.

All his life, he’s never been the kind of person who longed for gifts or compliments, but when coming from the right person…perhaps he is.

Whilst he struggles to come up with a reply— a simple ‘thank you’ or ‘i appreciate this’— you mentally applaud yourself as you’ve finally found a way to make him speechless…

…but your praise for yourself is short-lived.

He can’t be weak. Not even for you.“I guess it’s not terrible.” Geto throws the flower to the ground and lightly kicks it away with his right foot. As one of the beautiful petals drifts away from the lonely flower, he turns away, not being able to endure the heartbroken look on your face and the offended rose on the floor. Why does he have to be like this? “I’m sure that garbage is all a monkey like you can afford anyways.” Why is he so cruel?

His eyes clench shut as he hears the door begin to close. You’re so gentle even when upset. He admires that about you— you’re the calm to his ever-raging storm, the sailor to his tsunami, and the lifeboat to his wreckage— you’re the most pure-hearted person he knows, and you don’t deserve this awful anger he holds within him.

Is he…crying?

As tears begin to drip down his cheeks, Geto collapses against the wall with his knees buckling beneath him and his weight crumbling down to a pile of patheticness. He’s just a shell of a man undeserving of someone like you. Soft sobs escape his lips and silent cries fill the hollow room, absent of your joy, crying out until he notices the faint outline of the young rose beside him. With the flick of his hand, he snatches the flower off the ground and lifts the thorny plant with careful hands— finally and truly understanding your meaning behind the gift. This is how you see him? He’s dreadful and hurtful to others on the outside, prickling kind people away with his thorns…but when encouraged and supported, he has the potential to become something beautiful.

Someone that could one day be compared to the beauty that is of a blooming rose.

With the budding rose in his grasp, Geto sits alone. He realizes that he’s only able to become that person with the help of you. You’re the only person that has even come close to seeing him for who he truly is; aside from Satoru you’re the only person who would think of giving such a gift to the number one enemy of the Jujutsu world. You’re the only person who he’s ever come to feel true and honest romantic love towards.

Geto has to become better. Not only for himself and Satoru…but now, for you.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated! ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀i promise i'll post the next 2 parts soon pls be patient :3

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stsgooo · 1 year ago

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Haunted.

✩࿐ summary: geto had suffered enough, why should he let you go too?

warning(s): suicidal thoughts/idealizations, death, poor coping mechanisms, gn!reader, depression, isolation, description of violence, angst no comfort, curse!reader, cult leader geto things, character study vibes, not proofread (sorry). wc; 15.7k

pairing(s): geto suguru/reader, geto suguru/gojo satoru/reader (briefly), geto suguru/gojo satoru

a/n: hii, been a while since i’ve written an x reader fic so hope this abides by everyone’s standards :) as i finished this, i realized that this probably should've been multiple parts because of how long it is, but it was too far gone at that point. anyway, i hope you enjoy and if you don't i would rather not hear about it!

available to read on ao3. | divider 1

I. 2005

SUGURU WAS SURE YOU HAD A DEATH WISH.

Out of everyone, it seemed as if you had some crazy switch in you that just flipped during a battle. It was as if you got tunnel vision and your every move was erratic, death the only option. It did not matter to you whether you lived or died. Saving others was your main and only goal. That scared him to death.

You were powerful. Powerful enough where you didn’t need to go all out on every curse that even hinted at having some type of power over you or others. Yet you always found yourself in Shoko’s room, sporting one cut too many, and a bright grin as if you weren’t pushing the limit. You would wave away any and all concern with that smile.

I’m just fine, you would roll your eyes at their worry. Really, you guys, stop fussing so much.

Suguru had argued with you about it before. Both of you had been sent on a mission to some elementary school, few kids had gone missing. You found the curse, and the kids, and a fight ensued. It was nothing crazy. Not until you practically served yourself on a platter for the curse and told Suguru to run away with the kids. Of course, he didn’t leave. What kind of friend would he be if he just let you die? What kind of sorcerer would he be if he just ran away while you were torn limb by limb? He’d be a failure of a sorcerer and a failure of a friend.

It bothered him. It enraged him how easily you threw your life away for others. A hint of danger and you were willing to get yourself killed over it. The complete disregard for your life in the first year that you all knew each other irked his very soul. Your behavior was worrisome. It confused him.

The buildup to his fight with you was a lot to unpack in itself.

The car ride from the hospital the kids were at was silent. Filled with a tension that unsettled his heart and he was sure unsettled your mind. You made no attempt at small talk or passing a good job, it was just silent. He silently thanked you for it. Because he was sure if you spoke then, he would’ve blown up. He would’ve said horrible things. So he silently thanked you for your silence, your silent allowance to let him think. You even fell asleep and Suguru couldn’t help but ask himself how you could sleep so soundly after such a close brush with death.

Three days later, he could tell Satoru and Shoko noticed the tension.

He knew they noticed it the moment you two returned. Your clothes soiled, face covered in mud and blood, hands all too shaky. Maybe it was the way you walked away from his side to great them. Or it was probably the way he glared at the wavering smile on your lips as you told them everything went fine. It was most definitely that.

Shoko was weary of it. At lunch, she’d sit between him and you. Her words were light as she teased and prodded, but never dared to ask the serious questions. She kept the air free of the awkwardness or the anger brewing. Shoko was kind like that. She was optimistic.

Satoru, however, wasn’t.

Although he seemed to abide by the silent rule not to ask you questions, he was practically grilling Suguru any given moment. He asked what happened. Why was Suguru so angry? Why were you acting so standoff-ish? Had something finally happened between you? Did Suguru get rejected and was he throwing himself a pity party? There were so many things that he threw out into the open like it was silly. As if Satoru derived some entertainment from the tension.

Do you ever notice they’re ready to get themselves killed for others? Suguru had thrown out to Satoru a week after the mission.

Satoru’s eyes lost the amusement and his smile dimmed. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. Of course I have. His voice was ridiculously serious and slow, extremely distant. As if recalling something he pushed to the back of his mind often. His attention had cut back to Suguru and shook his head. Man, it’s best to leave this alone. Trust me. Sensei will say something soon enough.

Suguru couldn’t help but worry that their first year teacher’s talk wouldn’t come soon enough.

Things just didn’t make sense to him. He just didn’t understand why you would be so willing to throw yourself into death like it was a blanket on a cold night. Sure, they’re meant to save people, but it didn’t mean death. Not everything had to be final. He feared that you just didn’t know it.

All of it came to a head when all four of you were placed on a mission three weeks after.

At this point, it was apparent that you both were avoiding each other. Different topics that neither of you wanted to address made headway into your dynamic. Distanced you both from one another like it was a bubble. A shield protecting you both from uncomfortable and frankly angry conversations.

But you did it again.

Sure, this time the curse was too much. Things weren’t looking too great for them. But the moment Suguru noticed you were missing from his and Satoru’s side, he felt panicked. He knew what was coming and knew what you’d say.

You caught the curse off guard as you jumped from the top banister, your large hammer at the ready. You shouted something along the lines that they should get out of there. But Suguru nor Satoru dared to run away. He watched, in horror, as you vanished into the curse’s mouth. As he was ready to summon his small arsenal of cursed spirits, the thing was cut from the stomach. Then you got its head.

There was silence as you stood amongst the carnage. Covered in the things purple goopy blood. Then you turned to them with that smile and Suguru lost it.

“What’s wrong with you?” He yelled, his voice echoing off the walls and converging on you. You looked shocked, eyebrows raised and faltering away from the pride to the confusion. He took in a shaky breath as he felt the built up anger from the past three weeks finally come up. “Do you have to throw yourself into danger like that?”

You frowned at him, then pathetically gestured at the curse. “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

Suguru pressed his hands against his face, letting out a deeply annoyed groan. “That’s not the point! The point is you threw yourself into its mouth! Like it was nothing!” He pushed himself forward to at least close the distance a little. Despite hearing Satoru’s soft protest, he needed to look you in the eye.

Your irritation was apparent as you furrowed your brow. “It doesn’t matter! Seriously, what’s your issue lately? You’ve been a complete asshole since that mission we went on. I thought you were just feeling bad for those kids, but you’ve acted completely different towards me!” Suguru could only clench his jaw at your obliviousness. There’s no way, right? There was absolutely no way you didn’t see what you were doing to them. To him. But when you said your next words, that thought was out the window. “Okay, so I threw myself into the middle of things, but so what?”

So what? So what. So fucking what?

Suguru felt something deep within him snap. As if there was a car underwater and the glass that was keeping the passengers safe suddenly cracked. His emotions, his clear mind, were the victims of the drowning. Buried deep under your ignorance.

“So what?” He snapped, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he regarded you with unsettled rage. “So what? Are you serious? Like, are you dumb or are you just playing with me because I seriously can’t tell right now!”

You flinched at his tone and he could hear the shift of rubble behind him. “Suguru, hey—“ Satoru tried to de-escalate the situation but he was ignored.

“Excuse me?” You uttered, glaring up at him.

“Whenever we go on missions, you’re the first one throwing yourself at the thing like it isn’t serious. As if there’s not a high possibility that you’ll die! Every single time.” Suguru had a finger against your chest now. He wasn’t even sure when he had reached out, but he could feel the curse’s blood on his fingertip. It was cold and thick. Uncomfortable. But you were covered in it like it was nothing. Everything was nothing to you. “So, I’m asking you: are you dumb or just acting like you are?”

Your eyes were narrowed as you regarded him. “I know it’s dangerous, but sometimes that’s the only option.” Was all you had to say in response.

“You shouldn’t be the first one to die every time!” Suguru was desperate for his point to get across. For you to understand that it wasn’t the matter that it was dangerous— it was the fact that you were so willing and ready to have everyone live without you.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You frowned.

Just understand I care. That if you were to die right in front of my eyes, I’d lose it. I’ve only known you for ten months, but I can’t imagine a world where you’re dead. You’re one of my best friends— the first friend I ever made, please don’t make me live longer than you. Were all the selfish things that Suguru wanted to say. That he should’ve said.

Instead, he asked, “Do you just want to die?”

There was a very long silence that kept them all from moving.

The question was posed and he could see it in your eyes. Could hear it in the words you didn’t speak. You looked away from him, shame settled on your face. Suddenly, you looked small compared to your usual large and boisterous self. Have you always been this small? Or was this something he was just realizing now?

It settled in his mind, suddenly, that he was right. His assumptions, rash and brazen, were right.

It made him queasy, lightheaded, as he stared at you.

“Y/N…” He uttered with a pale face. He desperately wanted to reach out, to grasp your shoulder— make some type of contact. But his limbs wouldn’t move. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing or blinking. His mind just repeated the one fact he knew over and over.

You wanted to die. You didn’t care if you died out there, alone, because it was all the same to you. You were waiting for death as it was waiting for you. Like an old friend. You wanted to die.

Suguru felt the overwhelming urge to cry as it all settled. “You want to die?” He couldn’t help the whisper as he stared at you in horror.

Your cheeks were a deep crimson red, tears pooling in your eyes as you took a step back from him. “It-It’s not like that.”

Suguru slowly shook his head. “Y-Yo—“ You shouldn’t feel like that. Is what he wanted to say. But what good would that do? You knew that. You probably prayed you didn’t every day.

“I just— you guys are so important to the school and-and to me! If you guys died, they’d be scrambling and a lot of people would probably suffer. But if I died, then who would even care—?”

“I would!” Suguru couldn’t help the tears that collected in his eyes. Here he was, almost 16, crying in front of you. But he needed you to know he cared. That life wouldn’t be the same without you gracing it. He reached forward, grabbing your hands in a vice like grip. “I would care! If you died I would be miserable and I would miss you like crazy. Don’t say no one would care because, if it doesn’t matter that I care, then everyone would. You’re important to everyone. You matter.”

Your eyes were on him now, wide and unsteady as you regarded him with confusion and disbelief. “Suguru—“

“We would all care. Satoru would be so annoying without your stupid quips. Shoko would be miserable if there wasn’t anyone to get her cigarettes when she forgets. And I…I would lose it if you were dead. I would. I would lose my mind, I’d do something crazy like… like leave everything behind.” It felt wrong to say. To put such weight on you, but he needed to know the role you played. How important you are. He clenched his jaw in determination, eye contact unwavering as he squeezed your hands. “I’ll prove it to you. I swear on it. I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.”

“Better than anything I could say.” He heard Satoru utter behind them, then the tell tale yelp that came after Shoko slapped him upside the head.

You didn’t let that distract you as you fell forward into his arms. Clutching at his uniform as you let out a small cry. He held you up and listened as you dumped years worth of pain into his chest. Suguru couldn’t ever recall seeing you like this before. He never really wanted to see it again. You didn’t say anything in response to his rather embarrassing ramble to you. No, not to that.

Instead, all you said in return was, “thank you.”

II. 2006

Suguru was in love with you and Satoru.

He realized it the afternoon in Okinawa, all of you walking through the aquarium as Riko pointed out various fish that she knew too much information about. Of course, he wasn’t listening. He was much too focused on you and Satoru. The both of you had snuck away to a gift shop— proclaiming that you needed mementoes and souvenirs for your friends back home. You adorned an octopus hat while Satoru had various fish stickers pressed to his cheeks. You both more resembled children on a field trip than highly esteemed sorcerers.

Suguru loved it. He loved you both.

It was a sudden and rather scary realization.

It came over him as you placed another sticker on Satoru's face. The both of you releasing absurd laughs that had no business sounding so lovely. He could feel the small smile blossom on his own lips as Satoru argued that he'd have the "gooey stuff" all of his face later, which made you promise to help him clean it off with a rag. Then you placed a delicate kiss against his cheek. It was so nonchalant, something they should all be used to, but it was always so jarring. Satoru stared at you with wide eyes behind his glasses, then he grinned. Wide and devious.

Suguru's heart soared.

He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to grab both of you and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. To promise his heart and his life to you both. It would be easy. It would be mere second nature to him. Suguru may just be realizing how deeply he loved you and Satoru, but he was almost sure that he'd felt this way since month five of your first year.

Surely, it shouldn't be a surprise. You three had been getting bold lately. Shoko was even commenting on it. The late nights in your room, the both of them curled up at your side. The domesticity of one of you returning to your dorm and being greeted by the other two. You all had a routine. A promise to come back through the door and have another fight of arguing over what's for dinner. Or something obscure that he wouldn't put up with with anyone else.

He just wanted to tell you and Satoru that he finally feels normal in the world. With you both by his side. That when he has your skin pressed against his, he feels like he could take on the world. That Satoru makes him feel childish and free like he couldn't be when he was a kid. That his kisses were sweet and soft. He just wanted to tell you that he loved you.

But Suguru saw your eyes stray away from Satoru's and the smile faded away. "We have to give her a choice." You said suddenly.

Both Satoru and Suguru moved their attention to Riko. The girl was standing in front of a expansive tank, watching in amazement as the fish zoomed by. The girl unaware of their watchful eyes as she turned to Kuroi and asked her to enjoy the fish too.

Suguru and Satoru had acknowledged that you were probably the last person who should be on this mission almost immediately. It wasn't that you weren't well fit for it, or that you would be too detached, or not want to get involved— it was that you had warmed up to Riko immediately. The girl had become your shadow. She asked about your technique and how "two idiots" like them were able to be in your presence. She amused you and you amused her. Then she asked you what you thought about her merger and you told her you thought it was something you shouldn't get involved in.

But Suguru and Satoru saw it in your eyes. They knew what you thought the moment Yaga had said the word "erase".

You wanted to save her.

"I knew you'd say that." Satoru snorted, leaning back against the tank they stood before. His eyes rolled upwards to look at the dolphin swim pass across from them. "You're always meddling."

You glared at him. "I don't meddle!"

"You do." Satoru said fondly. "What did I say, Suguru? They'd meet the girl and meddle, right?"

You snapped your eyes to Suguru who shyly stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging. "You did say that." I did not. Suguru used kinder words— like you cared about Riko and you'd probably not want to see her throw away her barely lived life for Tengen-sama.

You pouted, picking at the railing next to Satoru. "Am I that predictable?"

"Only because we know you so well." Satoru teased with a small smile. Then his eyes cut back to Riko who was gradually making her way further down the area. As much as Satoru would deny it, Suguru could tell that he'd come to grow fond of the girl as well. "What do you propose we do, exactly?"

Now Suguru was looking back to you. He could see the shock in your eyes as they snapped up to Satoru— as if you couldn't believe he was playing into whatever ideas you were tossing around. There was a spark of hope in your eyes and Suguru had to look away to prevent the smile that wanted to spread across his face. Instead, he'd let his heart do that weird skip it usually did whenever you and Satoru were particularly adorable.

"All I want is for her to have a choice," Your voice was compassionate as you started. The look in your eyes distant as you turned your attention towards the small tank in front of you three. The portioned tank that had different beta fishes separated. Together they're deadly. Apart, they find peace. Riko had explained. "The way she's talked about everything... the merger with Tengen-sama— that's what she was born for. She's proud of it. But given the choice, she wanted to spend her last day with her friends. She wanted to go to school and hang out with them because she knew she'd never see them again. Instead of really wanting to do this, she's just doing it because she feels like she has to. Where's the freedom in that?"

Suguru smiled softly at you. "So we give her a choice." He agreed with a small nod, finding satisfaction with the brightness in your eyes.

"We'll have to fight Tengen, you know that?" Satoru kept his eyes steady on Riko as he questioned the two of you. Both of you blink, obviously not having considered that detail. "They'll put up a fight— probably other sorcerers too. Freeing Riko might mean we leave Jujutsu High."

Suguru let his mind wander. Would he really mind if the three of you left? Not really. If the three of you have to fight Tengen-sama, then he'd gladly fight them by your side. If you both wanted, he'd destroy the world. Then gladly live his final moments with you both at his side. That was a fact that he knew to be true in his soul.

"I'll gladly do so." You answered without hesitation. Of course you would, you self sacrificial fool. A bitter part of Suguru said. There was no question that you'd put your life on the line for Riko. "If her choice is to live life, then I'll fight Tengen."

"And you'll win?" Satoru asked.

You raised an eyebrow. "We're the strongest, aren't we? Us three?"

Something about your words made Suguru 100% sure that he wouldn't allow you both to walk alone in the world. Together, there wasn't anything you three couldn't take on.

Satoru finally turned from Riko to stare at you with a self assured smirk.

Oh, Suguru thought with a stutter in his heart. He'd already made up his mind before you did.

"Well, well! I thought you were above all that we're the strongest crap!" Satoru teased, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you rolled your eyes. "Don't be so entitled, Satoru. You're making Haibara and Nanami feel less than, Satoru. You sound ignorant, Satoru. Look who's high and mighty now!"

"Oh, stop!" You pushed his arm away, but your smile was fond. You turned back to the beta fish. "Sure, it's a little entitled, but right now, I'm being nice."

"Thank you, thank you, my beloved royalty." Satoru dramatically bowed before you. You uttered something about him being dramatic, which went ignored. The white haired sorcerer reached over and slapped Suguru's arm, peeking at him fondly from behind his glasses. "Suguru, bow for your deity!"

Suguru was about to decline, until you spoke up. "You're ridiculous, you know that? Don't do that." Suddenly, he felt inclined to follow suit.

Both of them were now bowed behind you, uttering their dramatic praises as you blushed, attempting to ignore them as people walked pass and stared. Suguru peeked up at you as you watched the beta fish swim around. In that moment, he prayed that nothing changed.

Things weren't right.

Things weren't right but you were so calm.

Silently, Suguru could only shoot a thankful glance in your direction as the elevator creaked under the strain of four people. He could tell you were worried but your expression was determined to stay pieced together. Satoru was above ground, fighting against that man— Suguru couldn't think about it. It was too much in the mess of things.

The elevator came to a screeching halt and there was no hesitation on your part to push the doors open. You seemed quicker, your movements a little stilted as you exited the elevator and, instead of looking at the three behind you, you kept your gaze on the various entrances. He could tell you were irritated. He could tell you were worried. Or nervous.

No, you were scared.

His attention turned towards Riko and Kuroi who were exchanging a heartfelt, tearful goodbye. They clutched onto each other— Kuroi told her to be brave and Riko promised she would. Then they separated and Suguru promised that he'd come back once everything was done to escort Kuroi to safety.

The trek to the Star Corridor was long and quite.

There wasn't much Suguru could say to comfort you because there wasn't much he could reassure himself with. His worries for Satoru were overbearing in his mind and he couldn't try and fool himself into trying to bear the weight of your anxiety as well. Both of you knew this, so you didn't dare try to comfort one another.

There's nothing wrong. Everything's going to be okay. We're the strongest. Satoru will join us once this is over. Were the things Suguru soothed himself with.

"Is this...?" Riko uttered as they finally broke through to the outskirts of where Tengen homes themself.

"Yes," Suguru confirmed as he came to a stop beside the younger girl. "We're just outside of where Master Tengen resides. This is the country's base for primary barriers. The main hall of the tombs of the Star Corridor."

"Basically, it's their home." You said flatly, coming to Riko's other side, your eyes moving over the vast area. It was quiet, dark, and looked isolated. Nothing that brought any welcomeness for the eternity to come.

Suguru tried not to let his gaze linger on the woeful look painting your face now. He cleared his throat and pointed. "Go down the stairs and pass the gate. Then head toward the base of that huge tree. It's protected by a different barrier than the one around Jujutsu High. Only those invited may enter. You'll be protected by Master Tengen until the merger."

Riko's expression turned sorrowful as she followed the path Suguru paved with her eyes. This was the end. Her fun and the little life she lived was at its finish. She clenched her hands at her sides and made a move to continue forward, without them.

"Or we can turn back and go home to Kuroi."

Riko's eyes snapped to you. Your eyes were compassionate and a small smile graced your features that was more reassuring than any words that could be spoken. She looked a little pale, but the glow of hope suddenly appeared.

"What?" The girl uttered.

You turned to her fully, keep your expression soft. "When our taecher assigned us this mission, he used the word 'erase'. It's like, deep down, he knew something was wrong with this and, for a muscle guy, he doesn't usually beat around the bush." You looked like you wanted to chuckle at your own jab at Yaga, but didn't have the energy. Instead, you sighed. "I talked to Suguru and Satoru and we all came to the decision that if the kid who is the Star Plasma Vessel should refuse the merger then we call it off."

Riko's eyes widened even further and tears were on the cusp of falling as she stared at the both of you.

"We're the strongest," Suguru offered gently, offering a closed eyed smile to the girl. "No matter what you choose, we promise to protect your future."

Riko's lips quivered as her eyes bounced between you two and the vast nothingness of Tengen's home. She took in a shaky breath. "Ever since I was born, I've been told I'm special and different. Being special was normal for me. I've survived till now by staying away from danger... My parents died in a car crash. I don't remember it. I'm not say or lonely anymore." She started to fiddle with her hands as her words grew more unsteady. You moved to press against her side, hands rested against her shoulders. "That's why... with the merger, I thought I'd be okay... leaving everyone. No matter how painful it became, I believed that, some day, the sadness and loneliness would disappear."

"You just need the right person." You uttered to her, her eyes snapping up at you as tears silently streamed down her face. "You need that one person to prove that there's beautiful things out there— that there's kindness and love. I know. I understand, Riko."

The girl bursts into tears, a trail of snot ran from her nose as she shook with her cries. "I want to stay with everyone a bit longer!" Her voice seemed to echo around the two of you. "I want to go to more places and see more things with everyone! More!"

Both you and Suguru smiled softly. His hand reached out while you squeezed her shoulders. "Riko, let's go home." He beckoned her forward.

"Yeah!"

Suguru registered the shot last second, but it was too late for him to truly do anything.

He's never quite seen anything like it.

You were smiling, you looked free from your worries for one second.

Then you were falling. Your face slack and eyes blank. You fell against the ground with a deafening thud. Blood pooled around your head, chunks of your brain scattered across the ground. Your eyes.

They're so blank.

Suguru barely registered Riko's scream. His eyes couldn't leave you even as the girl screamed and screamed, hands clutching at her head as she stared at your body beside her.

You were just speaking a moment ago. You were smiling. How could this happen?

Your eyes are so blank.

"Y-Y/N...." Suguru uttered, eyes wide and face pale.

He felt sick. He didn't feel right. This wasn't right. Why were you on the ground? Why were you bleeding? Why can't he move? Why can't he breathe? Are you going to get up? Please get up.

Riko continued to scream. She just wouldn't stop. Her once hopeful eyes were now reduced to horror and terror as she smeared the blood covering the side of her face. None of it hers.

It's yours.

Your eyes are blank.

What are you doing? Get up. Get up. Smile. Just breathe. Get up. Please, I'll do anything. I'll listen to you ramble about those books you love so much. I'll buy you those disgusting snacks you crave. I'll do anything for you.

Please don't die.

Your eyes are blank.

"Oh," groaned a voice that rattled Suguru's soul. "I missed."

Suguru slowly turned his head to stare at the man. The one that had stabbed Satoru through the chest and had talked to him like an old friend. The one that was now standing, clutching a gun in his hand, pouting as if he was amused by his miscalculation.

As if your death was something he hadn't accounted for.

"How..." Suguru's voice doesn't feel like his own. It feels like he's out of body. As if something else is controlling him. He felt something warm on his cheek, but he couldn't reach for it. His limbs felt heavy, his hands cold. What was happening? Why did everything feel so muddled? "How'd you get here?"

Still, Riko screamed.

Still, your eyes were blank.

The man frowned. "How...?" Suddenly, he chuckled and pressed the side of the gun to his temple. "I see. I killed Gojo Satoru."

Suguru was swarmed with an unfamiliar feeling of rage. You and Satoru had once praised him for his ability to remain calm and level headed when things seemed to crumbled around all of you. He was the voice of reason— your moral compass. The map that lightened your way.

Suddenly, he felt like he was reduced to nothing but rage and this empty feeling in his chest.

Your eyes are blank.

Gojo Satoru is dead.

"I see..." Suguru growled, his eyes unmoved from the man across from him. "Then die!"

III. 2007

Suguru didn't feel right.

Although, he hadn't felt right for 11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds.

He hadn't been right since the moment you dropped dead.

Your eyes were blank.

He wasn't enough to fight against Fushiguro Toji. The man had ruthlessly downed him then killed Riko. It was like it was nothing. He came, he killed, then he left.

Suguru had laid amongst the rubble of Toji's doing and stared into your blank eyes. He still wasn't sure how long it was. He couldn't move and he could barely breathe as the blood from his chest trickled to the stone and concrete under him. Your eyes stared lifelessly into his own. Endlessly. A never-ending staring contest that he pleaded to end.

The entire time he laid on the floor of Tengen's barrier. His mind only repeated one thing.

Please get up. Please be alive. Please get up. Please get up.

Your brains had scattered across the floor and your eyes were unmoving but he spent so much time just pleading with you to snap out of it. He thought he was enough. He apologized for not being enough.

Please get up. I promised to prove it to you.

There was a point he passed out. He could remember thinking, thankfully, that he was going to die. And he swore he heard your gurgled call for him.

Then, he woke up.

Shoko had looked distraught. He could still remember the way she eyed him wearily through red rimmed eyes. Cautious as she told him that you were dead. As she told him Satoru was gone.

Gone. But not dead.

Suguru had, very briefly, rejoiced in Satoru's survival.

Shoko said she cleaned your blood off his cheek.

Suguru hated her for a while after that.

He didn't stay at the infirmary for long. Despite Shoko telling him that Yaga wanted to see him and that he shouldn't move around yet, he dragged himself away. He dragged himself to the cult. He dragged himself along the side walk with his mind flashing with images of your blank eyes.

Was that all death was? Nothingness? Did it comfort you? Did it welcome you? Was it everything you imagined?

His mind wouldn't rest.

He could remember as he entered the building. As he heard the resounding and endless applause. He mindlessly entered and was meant with a never-ending crowd, parting as they just clapped, and clapped, and clapped. It rumbled through his ears, bouncing around his brain.

Your eyes were blank.

When the crowd parted, he remembered the clench of his heart as Satoru, bloodied and blank, appeared. He carried Riko's body in his arms. Lifelessly moving forward. His eyes stared right through Suguru.

"You're late," Satoru had teased blankly. His voice distant and flat. It missed its usual punch. "No.... I guess your're early."

Suguru remembered the confusion that washed over him as he stared at the one he loved. "Satoru... is that you...?"

What happened to you?

"It looks like you saw Shoko." Satoru had sounded like he wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings. Or he didn't care. "Is Y/N there right now?"

Suguru didn't have the heart then. He could remember silently apologizing to you, but he hadn't thought Satoru could handle the news of your death amongst this room.

"Shoko fixed me up fine." His eyes had moved to Riko's limp hand and he felt sick. Her screams were still in his mind. He almost threw up. "I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who messed up. Don't worry about it." Satoru had easily deflected.

Suguru couldn't handle the clapping. They just didn't stop. They clapped, and clapped, and clapped.

Your eyes were blank.

"Suguru," Satoru's voice had stopped him in his tracks. His voice was so detached and so odd. Suguru couldn't handle much change then. He couldn't handle hearing Satoru so different. Not then. "Do you want to kill them all?"

Suguru could remember the shock that shook his body. Could remember the bitterness that immediately followed. The realization that he would love nothing more than to unleash the worst on these people and sum their deaths up as their lives— useless.

"Suguru," He had sworn he heard your voice, distorted and all too sweet. His back stiffened and his eyes widened. "Do you hate them, Suguru?"

He did. He hated them. He wanted them all to burn. He wanted them to suffer. Suguru would've loved nothing more than to have heard all of them plead for their lives. To have the same terror that Riko had when she realized her life was coming to an end. To have that same blank look in their eyes as you had.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's pointless." Suguru had shot down emotionless. He still wasn't sure if he was answering that tiny voice in his head or Satoru, maybe it was both. Who really cared?

"Pointless, huh?" Satoru walked past Suguru and started to make his way outside. "Does there need to be a reason?"

"Of course, it's important." Suguru had easily answered. "Especially as Jujutsu Sorcerers."

11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds later, he believed that was all bullshit.

It surprised him how much and how little could change in a year.

The way everyone seemingly returned to normal and he was left in the past.

Suguru felt like his life was now segregated into two sections: Before the Star Plasma Vessel assignment and after the Star Plasma Vessel assignment. Before and after you.

He realized, quickly and bitterly, that the after you was worse than the before.

Before he knew of your existence, he was happy to be alone. He embraced the fact that kids at school thought him odd, unapproachable. That they would whisper about his habits behind his back. He was happy to know that no one wanted to be around him. It meant they didn't see what he saw. He didn't know anything else.

But the after you was considerably worse.

You had given him that breath of fresh air. That love that he had unknowingly reached out for his entire life. The way you and Satoru had touched him, he didn't even know his heart ached for that type of love. He didn't know he was depraved until you showed him.

He hated it. For a moment, he hated you.

In the first weeks after your death, he felt angry. He was bitter. Even as Satoru rubbed his back in bed. Even as he told Suguru it wasn't his fault. Even as everyone told him that you would hate to see him like that. He felt a hatred. A regret.

For months, he hated you.

He'd ignore topics centered around you. He ignored the day that Shoko and Satoru cleaned out your dorm for a new first year. He was stagnant and blank at the funeral your family held. When everyone walked up to recall memories about you, he didn't. He just listened and he thought that none of them truly captured you. They said you were kind, that you were funny, that you went our of your way to help whoever needed it.

If it was Suguru up there, he would've said you were selfish. That you always put your life on the line when it wasn't needed. That you were arrogant. That you could really make him worry.

But he loved you.

That's what he hated most. Isn't that the worst?

He hated that he loved the way he missed your hugs, your reassurances. He hated that he missed worrying about you. That he wouldn't ever see you again. That he wouldn't join you on a mission and be forced to listen to Yaga or fellow students worry about your sanity. He missed that sometimes you would play into Satoru's words, like saying the three of you were strongest together.

"Hey," Satoru called from across the training yard. Suguru barely looked up. "Have you lost some weight? Are you okay?"

Satoru became "The Strongest". His abilities were starting to blossom and it allowed him to work by himself. The higher-ups sent them alone. And Suguru hadn't felt more confined in his life.

"I'm just a little tired from the summer heat." Suguru easily explained it away, his hands buried deep within his pockets. "It's not a problem."

"Maybe you had too much somen noodles?" Satoru asked, niavely.

"No," Suguru wanted to snap at him. "It's the fact I can't eat without feeling sick. I can't taste anything except the fucking vomit of the curses. I hate it. I hate it. I'm always sick. I'm so hungry. But I can't eat."

Instead, he sighed. "Maybe."

The curse population was springing up like maggots. Everywhere and all consuming. The summer had been busy and Suguru truly was tired. In his heart, he started to blame the mess of last year for the increase of curses. It was easier to blame that than nothing. It was better to put a face to his suffering rather than blame himself.

The repetitiveness of his life was becoming crushing.

An endless cycle of exorcism and consumption.

Exorcise. Consume.

You had once asked him what curses tasted like. Under a beautiful tree and a beautiful night sky. You stared at him from your place on the ground. "Suguru, what does it taste like?"

"It's a taste nobody knows." He had explained. "Like ingesting a rag used to wipe up vomit."

Exorcise. Consume.

"Oh," You had uttered, a heavy frown on your lips as you pondered on it. "I'm sorry."

Exorcise. Consume.

He didn't need your pity then. But it had been nice. It felt nice for someone to pretend they understand the disgust, the bitter tang. He pretended that it helped.

"Thanks."

Then, you asked, "Would it help if you had mints?"

No. "Yes."

That first Christmas you all spent together, you got him mints. And, despite it doing nothing, he still popped one in his mouth every time. False hope that something could push down the disgust he had for his technique, for what he was considered special for. What lengths he went to save people.

For what?

Every since that day, the day you and Riko died, it's been running through Suguru's head. That everything he saw, Toji, your blood, your brains, the never-ending applause of the cult members— it was a hideous evil known to everyone. What he saw wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Still, knowing that, he protects them as a Jujutsu sorcerer.

"We can't lose our way." You had reassured one day when the curse you and him were fighting was particularly ruthless. It had killed so many people that the both of you hadn't been the same for weeks. "Don't lose your way. We just have to follow through with our duty as sorcerers."

The thunderous applause took over that of his heart.

"Monkeys." Suguru uttered in the shower. The first time he whispered it. His eyes unmoving from the wall as the water trickled down, down, and down.

Your eyes were blank.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

His hand clenched above him. "Fucking monkeys."

He snapped the water off and robotically dried himself off.

Suguru felt like he was merely living through the motions. That he was being guided other peoples words and the wind itself. He was merely a leaf being blown away. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Nothing he could do to ground himself and force himself to take the wheel. To be in control. He could only watch on.

He found himself hunched over on the bench near the vending machines. He barely acknowledged the rain that poured outside. It was one of those days. Those days where the weather matched his mood and made it considerably worse. Maybe he could get away with hiding inside his dorm. Being curled on the bed and not appearing until the rain was well gone— when Satoru couldn't ask him if he's ate.

He closed his eyes in defeat. How could loneliness possibly feel worse now than it did then? He'd been alone for years before. Why was it worse now?

"Hi! Mister Geto!"

Suguru's eyes snapped open and dragged upwards. "Haibara..."

You liked Haibara. You said so on his first day. When he enthusiastically introduced himself to everyone— gave his blood type and his family history. You had laughed for twenty minuets. You said that Haibara was like a breath of fresh air. He had no idea what he was getting into and he was happy. Suguru said you were looking into it too much. You didn't agree. Then you invited both him and Nanami to join you all on a trip to Shinjuku.

You liked Haibara. He was sweet.

You liked Haibara. So did Suguru.

"Hope all is well!" Haibara continued, seemingly ignorant to the war raging on in Suguru's mind.

You liked Haibara. You trained him. He was sweet.

So did Suguru. "What can I get you to drink?" Suguru asked, pulling some change from his pockets.

"I couldn't possibly—" Haibara's eyes glanced at the vending machine then his eyes brightened. "I'll take a coke!"

Suguru couldn't help the little laugh that broke through his lips. Amusement in his eyes for the first time in a while as he gently dropped the change into the junior's cupped palm. Haibara pratically skipped over to the vending machine, dropping the coins in, and retrieved his coke.

Fully expecting him to carry on with a thanks, Suguru was a little surprised that he sat down beside him and smiled big.

"My mission tomorrow is pretty far away." The boy started, wiggling with excitement.

Suguru smiled softly. "That so? I'll be expecting a souvenir then."

"You got it! Something sweet or savory?"

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

This was the normal. It felt refreshing for everything to be so normal. A silent agreement amongst the second and third years to get everyone who asked a souvenir from their respective mission areas. It made for interesting foods or items. Silly things that he could place on his shelf or for him to take a bite and Satoru to steal the rest. Usually complaining about how no one ever gets him anything. Just like Okinawa when you picked that hat—

Your eyes were empty.

Suguru's smile faded away.

"Haibara..." He spoke, not entirely aware if his junior was speaking before he was. But Haibara's eyes moved to him with curiosity. He bowed his head once again. "Are you okay with being a Jujutsu sorcerer? Doesn't it bother you?"

Immediately, the junior took the question seriously. His chin rested between his finger and thumb, eyes narrowed in thought. "Hm... good question..." He uttered, a vague pout on his lips. "I'm not really the type to think too hard about things..."

"I don't think we should underestimate Haibara or Nanami." You had defended the two new boys against Satoru's beratement one day. Your eyes cut to where they were practicing against Yaga's cursed dolls. "We all started somewhere. I'm sure they'll surprise us one day."

"Giving my all toward something I know I can help with is a great feeling!" Haibara finally answered, snapping his fingers and looking at Suguru head on.

Suguru couldn't help the way his eyes widened. For whatever reason, his answered shocked him. It was a pure answer. Further proof that Suguru was different from everyone else. Proved that he was slowly losing a part of himself. Haibara hadn't been graced with the same tragedy he had. He didn't know the cruelty of people and was still hopeful.

"I see..." Suguru uttered, looking away once again.

"You're right." Spoke another voice that neither of them know. Both of the boys looked over to the woman that stood a few feet from them. She was tall, long blonde hair and she wore a smile on her face. "Are you Geto? What kind of girls are you into?"

Your eyes were blank.

He only stared in return.

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Haibara answered happily.

Suguru frowned. "Haibara."

"It's fine!" He turned to Surguru with a bright light in his eyes. "She's not a bad person. I'm a pretty good judge of character!"

Suguru felt something in his chest shift.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

"You say that while sitting next to me?" He uttered, sparing the junior a sidelong glance.

"Of course!" Haibara didn't hesitate.

The woman laughed, resting a hand on her hip. "He was being sarcastic, kid!"

No, I'm not. Suguru almost felt compelled to say. But he didn't have the energy. There wasn't any point in arguing with this stranger either. She didn't know him and he didn't know her. Something he would happily continue to stay true.

Embarrassed, Haibara excused himself with the woman quickly taking his spot. In an instant, Suguru drew back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is he your junior? Such an honest and cute kid."

Suguru couldn't help the distasteful glare he sent from the side. "As a jujutsu, he shouldn't be so trusting." He said bitterly.

The woman looked a little discouraged by his little jab, but continued on. "And you, Geto? Are you going to answer my question?"

"Answer mine first— who are you?"

The woman raised her chin, a small smirk on her lips. "Special grade sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo. Ring a bell?"

"You're the...?"

Yes. Yes, it did. Suguru thought bitterly.

He could distinctly recall you rambling on about Tsukumo. On how you wished you could be like her. Someone highly recognized and didn't care what the higher-ups said— just lived her life. To Suguru, it sounded like Tsukumo was kind of a failure. But to you, it was as if she was a symbol of something amazing. Proof that something that was suddenly attainable to you.

Suguru had been convinced you just had a crush on her.

"Nice! The what?"

Suguru clenched his jaw at her interruption of his thoughts. "The no-good special grade who doesn't take on any missions and just bums around overseas." He informed her flatly.

The woman's smile slipped away and she pouted heavily. "I hate Jujutsu High!" She fell back, her elbows rested on the back of the bench. She sulking. "Just kidding. But I'm not lying when I say we don't see eye-to-eye. What they do here is treat symptoms. What I want is to get at the root cause."

Suguru couldn't help perking up with interest. "The root cause?" He asked slowly.

"I don't want to exorcise curses after they appear. I want a world where curses don't even exist."

He stared at her in shock. A world without curses? He felt like he could almost rejoice. His heart gave a little skip and he almost felt like things were normal.

"How about a little lesson? Tell me, what are curses anyway?"

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Curses are created when cursed energy leaks from humans. It then gathers like sediment and takes form." He answered easily. It was something taught in their first year, something everyone knows.

"Excellent," Tsukumo encouraged, nodding. "If that's the case, there are two ways to create a world where curses no longer exist: one, eradicate cursed energy from all humanity. Two, teach humans how to control their cursed energy. The first one's not a bad idea. There was a model case for it after all."

"A model case?"

"Someone you're familiar with: Zen'in Toji."

Almost instantly, Suguru felt an anger rush over him. Toji. That was someone else that he tried to avoid thinking about. Usually, it only led to thoughts darker than when he thought about you. He thought about the various things he would've done to Fushiguro if given the chance. The slow and torturous death he would've given to him if he had the chance. He doubted it would eat away the hatred in his heart, but Suguru would take anything to have him suffer as you did. As he did.

"There have been several cases where heavenly restriction has reduced a person's cursed energy to normal levels. But to eradicate one's cursed energy completely... I've searched all over the world, and he's the only one who's ever done it. But that's not the only thing that's interesting about him. Despite not having cursed energy, Zen'in Toji was able to sense curses using his five sense. By eliminating all cursed energy, his body became sharpened to the point where he developed a resistance to curses."

A part of Suguru really wanted to tell Tsukumo that he didn't care. That monster died and he was glad to hear it. Even if he was the only way to get rid of curses, he was overjoyed that the man was dead now.

"Don't feel bad about losing him." Suguru scoffed, face blank. "I wanted to research him but he blew me off. It's too bad he died."

You smiled at Riko. You held her shoulders. You were going to take her home.

Your eyes were blank.

I killed Gojo Satoru.

"Cases of heavenly restriction are few and far between. So my focus is on two." Tsukumo seemed completely unaware of Suguru's mind raging on while she spoke. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Did you know, jujutsu sorcerers don't give birth to curses?"

That snapped Suguru out of his thoughts. He slowly dragged his eyes to stare at the side of the woman's head as she carried on.

"Of course, that's excluding cases where sorcerers become curses after death—" Do you hate them, Suguru? "—The amount of cursed energy that leaks from sorcerers, compared to from non-sorcerers, is extremely low. There is a difference in how much we consume and use cursed energy because of our profession. But the real reason lies in how it flows through us. For sorcerers, it flows heavily within us. If we're talking general terms— if every single human became a jujutsu sorcerer, no curse would ever be born again."

Suguru's world as he knew it, paused.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Those people. Humans. Non-sorcerers. They created the world that killed you. They created a world where he was alone.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"Then why not just kill every non-sorcerer?" He asked softly, not daring to lift his head or eyes from between his feet.

There was a silence between the two of them that made him tense up. He said something wrong. But why didn't it feel wrong? Why didn't the suggestion disgust him or make him sweat? Why did it feel like an idea that was meant to be said?

"Geto," Tsukumo finally spoke, voice slow and calculated. "That is an option."

What?

"In fact, that might be the easiest route!"

Suguru slowly lifted his eyes from the floor and stared at the woman next to him with wide eyes. Now, he felt it. He felt the sweat on his brow. It's an option. "What?" He uttered, tilting his head to try and meet her eye as she stared into the distance. "Um..."

"Weed out non-sorcerers and make them adapt to a jujutsu sorcerer based society. In other words, forced evolution. Kinda like how birds grew wings. Using dear and danger as a catalyst."

It's an option. Suguru couldn't shake his stare. He was holding his breath and just staring at her.

"But," There it is. "I aint' that crazy."

She looked amused, but she didn't know him. She didn't know his feelings and the fact that he hated—

"Do you hate non-sorcerers, Geto?" She asked it sincerely.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

His eyes went back the floor, ashamed. "I don't know." He started with a whisper. "I used to think jujutsu sorcerers existed to protect non-sorcerers. But recently, I've been doubting whether non-sorcerers are worth fighting for. The preciousness of the weak. The ugliness of the weak. I can no longer tell the difference. The part of me that looks down on non-sorcerers.... the part of me that tries to resist that feeling...."

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

"If being a jujutsu sorcerer is like running a marathon, then the finish line is too unclear." Suguru placed a hand against his forehead, hairs tangled between his fingers. "I don't know what I really feel."

"It's understandable, you know?" Suguru glanced at her with a frown as she eyed him contemplatively. "You watched your friend die, right? It's never easy. Messes you up. I'm sure I don't have to tell you."

You don't.

"Death and mourning something can really conjuring some nasty things in your mind. Like killing non-sorcerers— you want to take that anger out on someone. The anger for your friend's life being taken away." She explained it like it was so easy, as if she knew his next steps when he did not. "But looking down on non-sorcerers... resisting that feeling... those are just possibilities you've thought of. Whatever your true feeling is, you still have to decide."

The conversation didn't lead to anywhere else and Suguru was feeling himself grow more tired the more he stayed away from his dorm. He was about to excuse himself when Tsukumo asked for him to follow her out. She didn't say much on the way out and Suguru was grateful for it.

The woman got on her bike and waved at him. "I'll see ya! I was hoping to say hi to Gojo as well. Bad timing, I guess." She slid her goggles on. "As fellow special grade sorcerers, let's all three of us get along, okay?"

Suguru gave her his best smile, which wasn't much. "I'll send you regards to Gojo."

Tsukumo smiled, starting up her bike. She was about to ride off when she looked back at him. "One last thing. Don't worry about what happened with the Star Plasma Vessel. Whether there was another vessel or another vessel was born— whatever happened, Tengen is stabilized."

He didn't think it possible, but his hatred grew. Tengen is stabilized.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Tengen is stabilized.

Suguru bowed his head as she drove off. "I figured."

What the fuck had you died for, anyway?

Haibara was dead and he'd seen the body. The entire time Suguru thought of you.

As Nanami attempted to hold back tears, as he explained that they were caught off guard by a special grade, Suguru saw you in Haibara's place.

Both of you victims of a system created to protect people who weren't grateful. Who didn't even know you exist. People who had spared both of you not a single glance despite being so caring, so selfless. Who were they to put this unbearable burden on everyone's shoulders then act like you were different?

Haibara was sweet. You liked him. So did Suguru.

Haibara was dead. So were you. Suguru felt hatred build in him.

As he stared at Haibara's bloodied face, he had thought one thing: who would suffer for this death?

Gojo completed the mission. Gojo exorcised the curse. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo.

Gojo.

Why should Gojo be the one wrecking havoc? When it was Suguru that was filled with rage? When he was the one that wanted nothing more than to harm the ones that caused this all?

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"What is this?" Suguru asked slowly, staring at the sight before him.

Two girls seemingly coward away from him. Their faces bloodied and bruised. The cage that contained them offered no comfort. Just the cold hard ground and the darkness. They shook under his gaze and he couldn't find it in himself to look away. He couldn't turn around and question the people behind him. He did not know what he'd do if he looked them in the eyes as they explained themselves.

"What do you mean? These two are responsible for the incident, right?" Asked one man.

Suguru clenched his jaw. "No, they are not."

"These two possess strange powers and often attack the villagers."

This was of your own creation.

"I already dealt with the cause for the incident."

"My grandchild nearly died because of these two!" Protested the elderly woman as if she realized that Suguru wasn't going to believe these two were responsible.

The blonde child leaned forward. "That was because they—"

"Shut up you monsters!"

"Your parents were the same! I knew we should've killed you when you were born!"

As the two adults berated the children, Suguru came to a decision. His heart was no longer torn in two. As he stared at the girl's, his resolution was made.

He lifted his finger and a shadowed curse sprouted. "It-It'll be okay..." The girls stared at him with wide eyes, almost relieved. If he were a different man. If he in a different mindset then, he would've cried over the relief that washed over them. "Do...Don't worry... it'll be o-okay."

He ignored how familiar the voice was, how familiar the words were. He'd grown used to finding something that wasn't there in the curses he had collected. The fact that the ones he barely manifested were the ones that sounded like you the most.

Suguru turned around to the villagers and smiled. One that he hadn't managed to conjure up in some time.

"Let's step outside for a moment, shall we?"

The two followed him out and Suguru wasn't sure what words he said, what movement he made, but he could see the horror in their eyes. As he manifested his beloved curses, the one people like them had created, he felt an anger bubble up. Emotions that he had desperately pushed aside in an attempt to continue his life were now running their way to the forefront of his mind.

The grief of losing you. The anger of the complete disregard of you life by the society as a whole. The fact that there was nothing left of you now. Nothing—

"Suguru, do you hate them?"

His body stiffened. His wide eyes dragged from the horrified, begging people before him, to over his shoulder. The shadow that loomed over him now.

He'd read about this before. It was some obscure book he found while researching previous curse manipulators. It talked about various things that he used to prove to Yaga that he was learning something. One section had piqued his interest, but it was never information that he'd use in random day-to-day. Vengeful spirits. Usually, this only happened after sorcerers die without jujutsu being used against them. Their very soul and spirit is corrupted and transformed into something horrible. Something darker than who they truly were in life.

As Suguru stared at the spirit before him now, he knew what he had inadvertently done to you. The way your large body curled around him, wisps of what should be hair floating above you, your body clad in an open and flowing kimono. What caught his eyes the most, were your own eyes. Despite being almost invisible, he was relived. They were not blank. Instead, they looked like they burned with the rage he had held back for years.

It was as if you were the extension of his very soul.

"It should be noted that if you find yourself attached to a vengeful spirit: You must establish a clear master/servant bond. As the spirit is attached to your own soul, they musn't be allowed to overcome you. If exorcism is not an option, then create a clear set of rules. Summon them only when necessary. Vengeful spirits are not to be taken lightly."

"Suguru, do you hate them?" Your eyes did not leave his.

This time, he didn't hesitate nor lie. "Yes."

He heard them whimper in fear.

You moved unnaturally, but he didn't care. "Do you want them to die, Suguru?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes."

Your hand rested on his shoulder and he didnt even care if your talon like nails dug into his flesh. He watched, awestruck, as you turned your feral gaze onto the cowering villagers. "Can I hurt them for you, Suguru?"

Despite your state, despite what it meant for him, he couldn't help but feel the warmth blossom through his chest. He basked in the feeling of your brushed against his shoulder.

"Yes."

An unnatural smile creeped over your face and your shot forward, now clutching your katana.

All Suguru could think was: you're back.

"Suguru....what have you done?"

Geto adjusted his gojogesa with a emotionless mask over his face. The bags that had adorned his eyes for the past year were mostly gone. He was finally able to eat. His mind wasn't constantly ringing with that thunderous applause or the thud of your body. Instead, he was free. There was silence.

Except whenever you spoke.

"Where did you get that energy? Suguru, answer me!"

He had seen Gojo a week ago. He had said his goodbyes, vaguely masked as threat. Geto knew what they were now. Enemies by default. He knew it couldn't be long before the higher-ups found out about the village— known exactly what he'd become that night. He was a curse user.

God, was that a great feeling.

Geto was giddy that night. He couldn't help the giddiness he felt with his freedom. The happiness he felt as he held Nanako and Mimiko in his arms, trekking through the woods to the main street where he dragged them to his parent's house. That whole situation had been something in itself. Their anger, their confusion, the heartbreak for not understanding their son anymore.

Geto had simply taken what he needed for the twins, then left you to take care of his parents.

"You feel it, don't you, Gojo? You see them."

There was an assortment of things that Geto found himself doing after he defected. He suddenly found himself in the place of taking care of two twin girls that clung to his clothes and followed his every word like he was the Buddha guiding them towards enlightenment. There big eyes screamed the thank you's that he did not need or would accept. Still, he could tell that they were trying to prove that they were useful to him. Whatever that meant coming from a pair of 6 year olds.

The second thing he'd started was taking over the Star Plasma Religious Group. Although he heard they had disbanded a year prior, it appeared that they were just absorbed by another money hungry fool scamming them for every last cent they had. Not that he was about to go bad mouthing other people's methods for something he was about to do himself. It was surprisingly easy to take over a religious group when you had a vengeful spirit hanging off of you. The men, although easy to get on his side, he still killed. There was no point to their existence now. Not when he had his own plans outside from worshipping the likes of Tengen.

The last thing he was taking care of was you.

"....What did you do?"

"Nothing. I did nothing. They're was always with me."

Geto's adventure back into the books covering vengeful spirits was actually welcomed this time around. As a younger student, he hadn't really cared to think about what would happen to him if he happened to die in a terribly normal way. But now it was something he regarded with the utmost fascination. The different descriptions of vengeful spirits made him ponder exactly what you were.

Violent and seeking revenge. Sad and lost. Unaware they're dead and seeking guidance. Plague that spreads death, leeching off certain hosts. Clingy, they seek approval from the attached for their actions. These spirits had a connection with the host in their life and feel something unfinished in their death.

He could remember the look in Gojo's eyes as his eyes strained to look over Geto's shoulder. The fear and the realization that washed over him. The anger in his eyes as he seemed to grieve over not only Suguru, but you as well. The waver in his voice as he asked Geto what he had done. It almost made Geto feel bad.

Almost.

Gojo had his life laid out for himself. The higher-ups knew what they could do with him. He was practically bred and born for his role amongst everything. He'd live and die the jujutsu society. Something that always unsettled Suguru, but something Geto accepted. He came second. Last compared to jujutsu.

At least he had you. It was you and him first. Then Gojo. He could make this work again. He wouldn't let anything happen to you again.

Geto shifted his attention elsewhere as he flattened his robes.

God, he really did look the part now, didn't he? Except, maybe, the hair. But he wasn't doing anything about it.

"This place is still a religious group to the public, are you okay with that?" Asked one of the nameless faces that Geto would encounter in his life.

He over looked the stage before him with a flat expression. "As long as I can collect curses and money, that's all right." He reassured.

The man frowned, looking at Geto with some vague confusion. "Are you really going out there like that?"

He let a grin spread across his lips. "Why not? Bluffing and looking the part is important."

"Master Geto..."

He spared the twins a soft glance, a reassuring smile gracing his features. He reached down and ruffled their hair gently. "Be sure to watch closely." He whispered to them, watching with a warmth in his heart as they smiled and giggled at one another. "Have they gathered?"

"Directors, representatives. The chairman. And a lot more money waiting."

Geto grinned, taking the microphone from the man, and making his way out onto the stage.

The last time he'd been in the building they were giving a thunderous applause for Riko's death and, by extension, yours. He had been waiting a year to see them all again. To look them in the eyes and find a proper way to make them suffer. To make them feel the same fear or suffering that you and Riko had in your last moments.

"Can everyone hear me? Thank you for waiting, I'll keep this short." He announced as he came to a stop before them all. Nameless faces, judgmental side eyes, questionable whispers to one another. They did not remember Suguru. But he would make sure they remembered Geto. "As of this moment, this group is mine. We'll have a new name as well. You all will obey me."

Instantly, there was a scattered rise of opposition in the crowd.

Geto's grin faltered as he listened to the various questions of exactly who was he made their way to him. He could hear the anger and the confusion. His frustration heightened.

"Well, isn't that a shame." He dragged a hand over his face, eyes grazing the crowd before he grinned one more. He tried to look as inviting as he could, waving a hand at one man in particular. "Mister Sonoda! Could you please come up to the stage? Yes, that's right, you!"

As the older man stood from his seat and hobbled his way up, Geto narrowed his eyes. Despite his smile, his eyes couldn't hide the contempt and the hatred he had for the man before him. He could see that he noticed in the way he faltered on the steps. But pushed through and stood by Geto's eyes.

He made eye contact with Sonoda, then— "Y/N."

He found it easy to summon you. To watch you tear away at the man who had so brazenly ordered Riko's death. To listen to the garbled expressions of hatred you exclaimed as you tore his enemies limb-by-limb. It felt like it was some form a justice. To finally see the horror in their eyes, the blankness of it all. Bittersweet for him to watch.

However, he couldn't stand there and watch you in awe forever. He had people to take under his control.

Geto turned his attention back to the crowd. Satisfaction grew in his chest as he saw the horror and shock fall over their faces. Easily, Geto threw the microphone away.

"Now then, let's try this again." He scowled at the crowd, feeling you loom over his shoulder once again. He used his thumb to brush away some of the blood. "Obey me, monkeys."

III. 2015

"Are you mad at me, Suguru?"

Things had been going smoothly for Geto in the past eight years.

The cult, because that's what he considered it, was running finely. Those who owed money, gave it to him, or else. Those who followed, followed with loyalty, or else. Those who served no purpose, were dealt with. He had created a normal amongst the congregation. A standard that he himself had wanted to watch them scramble to keep. A constant state of panic or devotion for them that fed into his, honestly, growing ego.

Things like his family kept him rather humble.

The girls had grown accustomed to their lives with Geto. They seemed to thrive and love under his care. All of them had grown to a routine that they cherished with one another. They even seemed accustomed to you. The fear and confusion of others wasn't found in their eyes or hearts. Geto never properly explained what happened after death if certain things didn't take place, but they understood anyone. They knew you were important to him— by extension making you important to them.

The other members of the family— Laure, Miguel, Manami, Toshihisa— had a vague understanding of exactly what a vengeful spirit entailed. Although, they weren't jumping at the opportunity to really talk about it. Laure had attempted once, but the conversation died out quickly due to the look on Geto's face. The man was quick to drop the topic once he saw the expression painting the leader's face. Allegedly, he looked ready to kill.

Earlier that day, though, Miguel was braver. And Geto was in a far clearer mood.

"How did it happen?" The man's deep voice asked gently from where he sat across from Geto. Once the confusion set in of his sudden question, he raised an eyebrow at the apparent shadow rested behind his chair. "How did they get cursed?"

Geto himself had thought about it for years. He wondered what point you had been damned blessed to be attached to his soul even after death. It took him a long time. In the mix of things, death and decay, the sharp turn of his ideals— he had barely any time to really think about what made you this spirit clinging onto his life.

Some books said that it could be the connection shared by the host and spirit before death. Others said that hosts had the ability to curse the spirit themselves. That their desperation and their inability to let go was the true reason that sorcerers would live on as something horrible. Something completely opposite as to who they were in life.

He had pushed the thoughts away before they could ever really come to fruition. The possibility that he had been the one to create you into this. The thought alone was enough to twist his stomach. So instead he ignored it. He lived in blissful ignorance.

"Just happens sometimes after death." Geto answered flatly, turning his attention back to his book. He knew there was curiosity amongst his family to know things about you. Afterall, you were considered a part of the family, but there was simply no room to have conversation with you. You either grew hostile or confused and sought Geto out for answers. "Sorcerers whenever they're killed by a non-curse way or something another.

"Hm," Miguel's hum had remained unconvinced as his eyes trailed back to you. As your fingers hovered over the corner of the seat, but you didn't peek out. "There was a couple in my village back home. They were considered the ideal relationship at the time— I was a kid and thought so too. They were kind people. I always enjoyed getting special treatment from the wife, she was like a mother. She was one of the only other people I ever met in my home country that could see curses. Everything was good. But then her husband went and died from sickness. There was something different from the moment she died. She went a little crazy and one day she went and got real angry. Then— boom, there's her husband. But he was different. He was like yours."

Geto hadn't really known what to make of that rather non-sensical story at the time. He had just stared at Miguel before nodding slowly in return. "That's tragic." He wasn't interested in the possibilities.

"Nanako told me it was hard on you when they died." Miguel carried on as if he hadn't very visibly paused for Geto to speak his heart out. "Said that you said it was the reason you're the way you are now."

There was moments where Geto felt frustration with the twins. Their willingness to be so open with the family. Their ability to talk about their emotions so easily. The fact that they couldn't keep a secret for their lives.

The conversation about you had come up when the house was particularly restless and they were morbidly curious. They asked what you were like alive. What he was like as a kid. What the both of you were like in high school. How did you die.

He had looked off distantly and recalled the details— although he left out the gorey, unlikeable parts. He left in the parts where he was sad, that he had a hard time. He explained it in a way that kids like them could understand and use later to make sure they didn't end up the same way. Isolated and full of hatred.

Then, he made the mistake of mentioning Gojo. Their questions fell on deaf ears as he wished them goodnight and tried to drown out the memories of his youth.

"Don't get on her case about it. She's was just curious what certain things meant." Miguel must've taken his silence as anger because he stared at Geto with pleasantly narrowed eyes. "Have you ever considered exactly what happened to them?"

The question wasn't hostile or had any nefarious undertones.

He might as well had threatened Geto though.

Your eyes were blank.

"Please get up."

Geto had quickly excused himself, claiming that he needed to head to bed. He didn't miss the disappointment in Miguel's eyes or the fact that he had tensed up as you drew closer. He didn't want to think about it. What had taken place before, during, and after your death. He didn't need the questions—

"Please get up."

Tonight he couldn't escape it.

Eight years worth of questions and mystery filled his mind. The things he didn't dare address or ponder upon.

Sitting against his headboard, staring blankly into the darkness, he knew exactly how things ended up like this.

Him, a pathetic boy, staring into your lifeless eyes— he had begged for you to be alive. He had laid there with tears in his eyes, a pain in his chest, and a wavering plead breaking from his lips. Before he had fallen unconscious, he reached out his hand.

He reached out his hand.

Your eyes were blank.

Geto knew that he had cursed you. That his pleads and desperately attempt at touching you one last time had somehow damned you. He didn't need to know how it worked. He just knew that it was his fault.

The disgust in Gojo's eyes, the heartbreak, the shock. It was all things Geto deserved. For he had robbed you of the eternal rest you deserved.

The tears collected in his eyes and, for the first time in eight years, he felt a heavy bought of regret press against his chest.

He's known you longer dead than you were alive. Two years of his life had ruled onto the next eight. He had let his grief blind him. He was desperate to not let you go. To keep up some illusion in his head that he would be able to keep you there. To not let you fade away.

Selfish. He'd never been selfish before your death.

"Suguru?"

Your voice, distorted and garbled, was not something that he wanted to hear in that moment. Whatever reason, you were beside the bed now, head rested against your arms. He barely spared you a glance as the tears spilled over.

Selfish. Here you were now. Some weird sense in you to come out and comfort him. He had done this to you. An eternity to comfort him.

Selfish.

"Suguru, are you angry?" You sounded concerned, an odd sound that it didn't seem to fit you now.

Geto clenched his jaw, flexing his fingers. "Only at myself." He uttered.

You inched forward on the bed, a heavy frown spread across your face. "Why are you angry at yourself?"

He finally dragged his eyes to you, lids heavy and face almost as lifeless as your own. "I cursed you." He said it quietly but it felt extremely loud in his empty room. He looked for any realization in your eyes, any type of anger directed at him, but there was nothing. You just stared in return. You should be enraged. "I cursed you. Don't you understand what that means?"

Still, you didn't look angry.

"You saved me—"

"No, no, I didn't." Geto interrupted, closing his eyes in mild irritation. "I didn't... save you. I cursed you. I-I cursed you to stay by my side as I kill. As I kill in your name, you should be angry, Y/N."

“But… they’ve hurt you.” You say it with such confusion and sincerity that it makes him sick.

It’s then that he realizes what this all meant.

If you were alive now, you would look at him with all the rage in the world. You would damn him. You would be disgusted. If you were alive you would probably try to get him to see it all differently. You would tell him that staying with Gojo would’ve been better than this isolation, than this constant feeling in his chest. You would’ve known better than him.

It was then that he realized that he still blamed you for a lot. He wasn’t sure if things would be the same if just Riko died. Or maybe if you all had lived. Would he still be drawn to the same fate only later? Sometimes he was hopeful that he would be the same. Other times he wished he didn’t. All of it led to one thing: his anger for you.

There were some nights he would stay up and think about what you would do in his position. You would forgive them, try to use death as a chance to grow. You were much kinder than him. Or maybe you would be driven insane. None of you had quite tasted death until that mission. You probably would’ve handled things much differently than him if you had seen where Haibara ended up.

Bitterly, Geto thought, you probably would’ve given up.

Your sadness was always prone to taking you down. To whisper those forbidden and nasty things to you until you just wanted to bleed. You admitted to him and Gojo once that you didn’t even think you would make it to high school once. It scared them both, but you always got back up.

Yeah, you wouldn’t handle the sadness.

With a clenched jaw, Geto reached out and held your face. “I made you into this. You only kill and feel that way because that’s how I feel. Doesn’t that make you angry? Don’t you hate me?” He so desperately wanted you to see it from his point of view. He wanted the logic of it all to hit your brain and for you to finally finish what Toji and Gojo couldn’t— properly kill him.

However, just as you were in life, you would never take his life.

“I don’t care about those things.” You uttered in that distorted voice, those eyes of yours filled with emotions that he couldn’t hand pick. “Have I done something to upset you, Suguru?”

"No." Geto answered without hesitation. He pinched his eyes closed and took a deep breath. "I just want you to understand what this is."

He could feel your nail ghost over his thigh. "I understand."

Geto didn't believe you did, but he didn't have the energy to fight you. Not anymore. A part of him would always long to have a good long argument with you. But now it felt different. It felt as if it were all fabricated.

You were too agreeable now.

Please don't die. Please don't leave me.

But he supposed this was his punishment now. For being so desperate.

He rested his hand on top of your head. "Thanks for listening, I guess."

He can deal with the guilt later.

IV. 2017

Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

At least, a part of him was aware that death with a very high likely once he looked Gojo Satoru in the eye and declared war. Maybe even before that as he overlooked the mess of blood and limbs Rika had left behind at the elementary.

Either way, Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

"Hey," You had spoke one day as the three of them lounge in the courtyard. You had your uniform jacket open and your hair loose from the headband you wore to keep it out of your face. A good memory if it weren't for your next question. "Is it good to live a dishonorable life and have a honorable death, or a honorable life with a dishonorable death?"

"Huh? Why would you ask that now?" Satoru had pouted.

You had shrugged. "I mean, Yaga-sensei says that to be a sorcerer we'll have to live with our regrets, but he never talks about honor."

Satoru, in true fashion, rolled his eyes at you before taking a large bite out of his sandwich. "Because it's a bunch of self righteous mumbo-jumbo." He had said through a mouth full.

"Whatever." Your eyes dragged to Suguru. Your face had blossomed into a soft smile. "What do you think, Suguru?"

Suguru had frowned, biting on his lower lip as he thought. "I think what we all consider honorable varies. At the end of the day, you'll have to look back on your life yourself and decide whether you lived it worth wild." As you and Satoru stared at him with raised eyebrows, he shyly shrugged. "Don't worry about how honorable or dishonorable you'll be to others— just live a life that'll make you happy."

While you stared at him with someone akin to awe, Satoru stared blankly at him before bowing. "Truly inspirational, Suguru-sama, please invoke more of your wisdom on us!"

You had defended Suguru fervently as Satoru crowed against your assault. Then, he had been unwavering in his beliefs.

Now, Geto Suguru, stumbling down the ally with a missing arm, knew that all was bullshit.

There was nothing honorable or dishonorable about death. It was all a matter how people viewed you at the time. No one would be truly satisfied with their death because there would be a long list of things they wished they had done or hadn't done in their life.

As Yaga had said, they would all die with regrets.

His plans to obtain Rika had been rooted from a place of pure selfishness. His need to find alternative needs that didn't include using you in the most indescribable and unforgiveable way. He knew, deep down, that if he had used you the way that he planed to use Rika's powers— he would never forgive himself.

He hadn't even wanted to use you against Okkotsu Yuta. But that kid was something else. Most definitely a protege of Gojo Satoru. He could recall the caught off guard look on Okkotsu's face once you appeared. The confusion and the shock that overtook him as you wrapped yourself around Geto Suguru. He had uttered something that made the man falter.

"You're like me?"

There were so many things something that could mean.

You're like me: you're cursed with a love by your side, permanently protecting you against things that you didn't think were dangerous.

You're like me: someone had died so close to you that couldn't quite detach themselves from your soul.

You're like me: you cursed another because you couldn't accept that death was final?

Yes, Geto Suguru bitterly thought as his drive to kill Okkotsu grew. I did.

Now, Geto Suguru couldn't even feel you brewing with his soul. He didn't even think there'd be a difference if you ever left him. But there was this odd sense of loneliness deep within him that made him sick (definitely had nothing to do with the intense blood loss). His stomach churned as his mind silently cried out for you.

Was this true death? Nothing left to hold onto, just the memories and emptiness?

You're like me: you can't live without them.

Geto Suguru fell against the wall of the alley with a bitter scoff. Of course he couldn't. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, he spent the last 10 years attach his very life and soul around you. Tried to act like a big boy whenever he was asked what he would do if he was freed from this curse.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

Your eyes were blank.

"You finally made it," Geto Suguru snorted as he shifted his eyes over to the looming figure feet from him. "Satoru."

There was something so jarring seeing him now.

Compared to when he arrived a month prior, Gojo Satoru lacked those bandages around his eyes. Those blinding and once comforting pair of sky blues were staring into his very soul blankly. Did he realize that he wasn't coming to say goodbye to you? To free you from a monster like Geto Suguru? That he had actually used you in a last ditch effort to obtain Rika?

He was sure he was aware now.

"You'll be the one to take me down, huh?" He kept a hold on his shoulder as he dragged his eyes away from Gojo Satoru to avoid the unbearable guilt that overcame him. Years of regret and what if's overtaking his mind. "How's my family?"

As long as Nanako and Mimiko were safe, he could die without regret.

"They all got away. Kyoto was your doing too, wasn't it?" Gojo Satoru's voice was as telling as it was 10 years ago. As saddened and angered as the day he had walked away from it all.

"Yeah, unlike you, I'm a kind person. You sent those two here knowing I'd defeat them.... just so you could trigger Okkotsu's growth." He had been thinking about it since the moment Okkotsu's eyes had darkened. The unbearable grief that took over the boy as he eyed his unmoving and bloody friends.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's called trust. People with beliefs like yours wouldn't kill a young sorcerer without reason."

Geto Suguru laughed. "Trust, huh?" He couldn't help the amusement flow through him. After all these years... "I didn't realize you still felt any connection with me."

His counterpart responded with a scoff. "Suguru." It was said with the weight of a thousand lonely days— as if Satoru had thought the same. As if nothing had changed. The man clenched his jaw, ducking his eyes from view as he spoke once again: "Any last words?"

Geto Suguru drew in a heavy breath, things were really getting hazy now— almost feather light. "No matter what, I'll always hate those monkeys." His words were said with the disdain and hatred of the past ten years. Then he thought about where he was 10 years ago. The grief and the isolation that overtook him. He grew quiet. "But it's not like I hate everyone at Jujutsu High. It's just that in this world... I couldn't wear a heartfelt smile."

Satoru stood there in silence. Seeming to take in the words carefully.

"Anything else?" He uttered.

Suguru frowned, ducking his head. There was one thing he had been thinking about for the past two years that grappled him in the most unnerving ways. "Do you think they'll forgive me?" His question was soft and barely there— he was barely there himself anyway.

Satoru scoffed, except it sounded more fond than before. "They were always too forgiving of us. If you're worried about your purgatory being apologizing to them for eternity, then you're fine— it'd be too easy anyway." He joked softly, except his blank expression didn't quite add to the comfort or joke of it all.

I'd spend the rest of time apologizing. Suguru fought the urge to say.

"I figured."

"Suguru," Satoru took attentive steps forward, crouching down to his level. Their eyes met and there was something almost tangiable in that gaze of his. "I love you. I forgive you."

Suguru couldn't help the shock that flushed over his body. As the pain seemed to leave him completely, he used the last bits of his strength to show Satoru a true smile. The only one he could really conjure.

"You could at least curse me at the end."

As Satoru stared at him, as Yuta Okkotsu celebrated with his friends the victory and their safety, and as Suguru took his last breaths, his eyes trailed over Satoru's shoulder.

You stared back with a kind smile. Looking more alive than you had in the past ten years, you wore the clothes you had the day you died, your normal boring uniform. Suguru hated to admit he missed seeing those terrible uniforms.

"Suguru."

#✩࿐ t writes #♡ oneshot #jjk fic #jjk #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #geto suguru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk spoilers #geto suguru x curse!reader

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friedbaekhyunandeggso · 6 months ago

Text

found you - ch. 5 (part IV)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! sheltered! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten, baby), titjob, praising, unprotected & protected sex, dub/non consented sex, overstimulation, mentions of abusive parents, suicidal ideation, squirting & basically lots of smut

word count/plot: [19.5k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins...

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , chapter 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]

She shoved him back, breaking the kiss. He lay on the bed, panting.

He sat up, reaching for her, “Ara—“

“Wait,” she stepped back, tugging down her mini dress, “Just wait.”

His blue eyes looked her up and down, “Why~” he whined.

She stepped in between his legs, cupping his chin, “Because I have something for you.”

Excitement bloomed in his crystalline eyes as he stared up at her. His hands squeezed the back of her thighs.

“Yeah?” his voice was low—hungry.

Her long fingernails dragged through his white hair, up his nape to the crown of his head. His eyes never left hers until he leaned forward, opening his mouth to bite at her tits in his face.

Her hands in his hair tugged his head back a second before his lips made contact. A low groan left him.

She kissed the tip of his nose, “wait for me.”

The words went straight to his cock. The look in her eyes didn’t help either, he didn’t want to wait. He wanted her now.

She slipped away from him, making him ache with each step she took away from him.

Fuck. He stared at her hips as she walked towards the closet. Her hair swaying with each clop of her heels. Her legs looked so damn sexy. fuck, fuck, fuck.

She has something for me?

A grin split across his lips as he flung himself back on the bed. He reached down, squeezing his cock through his jeans. He groaned through his teeth.

What do you have for me, kitten?

The thought made his cock twist in his pants. It was too cramped in there, the zipper was working overtime. She was taking too long. He needed her.

He closed his eyes, sifting through ideas of what she could possibly have for him. A gift, hm? He could only wonder what she got. She knew everything he liked, from sweets to his favorite shows and movies—she knew everything.

The thought shouldn’t have made him as happy as it did.

His cock throbbed and he hissed.

Fuck baby, I don’t need anything. I just need you—just you.

He reached into his pants, adjusting his cock at a more comfortable angle. He needed to at least appear tame for whatever she had to give him. knowing her it was bound to be something unique and meaningful, maybe even sentimental. whatever it was he’d cherish it. he’d keep it forever.

When he told her that he didn’t want anything from her he meant it-but if she got something with just him in my mind.. Who was he to deny her?

He smiled to himself, thinking of her wandering store to store trying to find something for him. He hadn’t checked her bank statements recently either so it truly would be a surprise.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. His mind racing with curiosity.

Suddenly the closet door opened and he immediately perked up. Her voice came from behind the closet door.

“so… it was kinda hard for me to get a gift for someone who has everything. It really forces you to think outside of the box..”

He smiled slightly.

“.. so I thought really hard and I still came up with nothing but then I remembered, you always say I’m the best thing that ever happened to you-“

“You are.”

“-so here I am.”

She stepped out from behind the door and he gaped.

She wore the sexiest, laciest baby pink lingerie he’d ever seen in his life. The bra was basically see through, barely cupping her luscious tits. The matching thong was made with the thinnest straps, just the sight of it made him pant. and the garter belt attached to her lace-rimmed thigh high stockings…

He was gonna tear her up.

He stood up and she raised her chin, “Sit down.”

He froze, he’d never heard her voice like this. a grin split across his lips as he sat down. He licked his lips as he watched her step closer. The clip clop of her heels too slow compared to his heartbeat.

He naturally man-spread when he sat so when she stood before him, she stood between his long legs. Her skin sparkled up-close.

He reached for her and she swat his hands away.

“Don’t touch me.”

He groaned, “Ara you look so fucking sexy. I’m gonna lose my shit-“

“Then don’t. If you touch me I’ll stop.”

He raised a brow only to freeze when she bent low in front of him. the sight of her tits hanging, squeezed together in that sheer bra as she got on her knees, he nearly came right there.

She stared up at him from between his legs. her heartbeat thumped rapidly in her ears when she saw the look in his eyes. his mouth was slightly parted and his eyes—he looked like he wanted to demolish her.

She placed a hand on his thigh to balance herself and his abs immediately tightened. She slowly reached for the zipper of his pants, popping open the one button first. She then flicked at his zipper.

She felt the muscle under her hand on his leg stiffen, “Fuck you’re such a tease.”

She looked up to see his shoulders flexed, veins visible along his arms as his hands fisted the sheets. He was flushed, his jaw clenched. the thin necklace with their promise ring hanging from his neck as he sat slightly hunched—staring down at her.

“Don’t rush me.” her voice inadvertently coming out a whisper.

His eyes were fixed on hers, “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“You don’t want me to suck you off first?”

“i do.” he answered straight away, subtly shaking his head, “i do. i do. i do.”

She’d never given him a blowjob before, no matter how badly he wanted it or how often he asked. He never forced her to though—which she appreciated more than he knew.

He simply stopped asking for it, especially after she told him she found the concept of it nasty. putting the same cock that would be inside her pussy in her mouth? it just felt wrong. even the thought of it made her gag. He'd even seen her nearly gag while explaining it.

There was no way someone as big as him could fit in her mouth either. She was sure to gag for real if that happened.

And yet, here she was…

“Please.” he begged.

“please, please, please.” he sounded so desperate.

She stared at the bulge in his pants before looking up at him. She didn’t break eye contact as she shifted closer to him, her hand slowly lowering his zipper. She swore she could hear his teeth grinding.

His cock bulged out, pressing impatiently against his Calvin Klein boxers. even the outline of it looked angry. she heard a low choked breath leave his lips.

She glanced up again and nearly stopped breathing. He looked so big over her like this. All of his upper body muscles visible to her since he was shirtless. He could easily grab her and do as he pleased, she knew he was more than capable of it-but to think he was attempting to exercise his patience just for her. She knew she was playing with fire.

but she couldn’t help it.

His mouth partially opened when she slipped her index and middle finger into the rim of his boxers—dragging her long fake nails along his navel, from one v-line to the other. Toying with the elastic band of his boxers.

He groaned, shifting his hips towards her, “Ara, please. please, I need you.”

“I know.” she finally lowered his boxers, letting his cock flip out. It protruded towards her, fully erect and veiny. The light pink head swollen and stiff. She saw a small bead of clear pre-cum at the tip.

It looked so big and daunting in front of her like this. His cock looked longer than the length of her face.

She heard him let out a sigh of relief.

His cock twitched when she leaned towards it, it was just millimeters away from her lips. She met his gaze when she opened her mouth and exhaled over the tip, letting her warm breath cascade down his cockhead.

He whimpered, his cock twitching once more. She saw the bead of pre-cum dribble out slightly and trickle down the side of his cockhead.

“Ara..” he groaned, shifting his hips so that his cock nearly touched her lips.

She leaned away, her hand on his thigh pushing him back.

Her eyes fluttered back up to his, “Don’t move.”

He was panting. A bead of sweat dripped down his brow before he threw his head back and groaned. His hands fisting the sheets so hard, the bed was nearly disarrayed.

He faced her again, his gaze desperate, “I can’t hold back-“

“You have to.”

“I’m about to fucking cum and you haven’t even touched me yet.” his voice was ragged.

“Don’t cum.”

“Touch me, Ara. please fucking touch me.” he begged.

She reached over and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She held her tits up from the sides before leaning over and slotting his cock between them.

She immediately felt his cock twitch between her tits. His cock was so hot.

“ha—ah.” he groaned, tossing his head back as she began to slide her tits up and down his cock. Her tits were so warm, so soft and plushy. fuckkk.

He glanced down at her, at her pretty eyes staring up at him. His cockhead peeked out from the top of her tits as she held them together with her hands, squeezing his cock just right between her breasts. The friction felt so good after being abandoned for so long.

He watched his pre-cum dribble out onto her tits. fuck, he wanted to feel her soft tits in his hands. tease those sexy little nipples and fuck those tits at a pace that would make her cry but he had to be patient. he couldn’t touch her.

He groaned through his teeth and she watched him fall back on his elbows. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

She felt his hips buck as he tried to fuck her tits back but then his abs tightened as he tried to hold back.

“Fuck, you look so hot kitten. Your tits feel fucking perfect-yes-yes-just like that.” he grit out his last few words.

“Gonna cum all over your pretty face.” he rasped as she continued to bounce her tits up and down his length.

He felt so stiff between her tits, she couldn’t believe he was so hard. The sight of his cockhead disappearing and reappearing within her tits was the weirdest feeling but when she felt his cock throb she knew.

Her eyes widened. She saw his brows furrow in concentration as he sat up, bucking his hips into her to fuck her tits faster. The tip of his cock hitting her sternum.

“Toru—“ she gasped out and-just then, felt his cock pulsate. She didn’t want a mess-

Her mouth wrapped around his cockhead, her tongue running circles around his tip as cock throbbed between her tits—letting load after load of thick, hot cum in her mouth.

Her eyes squeezed shut, suddenly recognizing the flavor. He’d made her taste his cum a few times before but she must’ve been too out of it to realize what it was. The thought made her shiver.

“ah, ha-aah-“ he groaned sensitively, his cock continuing to jerk between her warm tits as he spurt endlessly in her mouth. Her mouth felt so hot and wet—her little tongue running along the slit of his tip. Fuckkk

She looked so sexy, her pouty lips wrapped around his cockhead-sucking him just right-with the rest of his length stuffed between those big perky tits. He would frame the sight if he could.

She backed away from him, letting his tip slip out of her mouth with a satisfying pop and-regrettably-making his cock slide out of her soft warm breasts as well.

He saw her cheeks were blown up, filled with his cum. Her gaze distraught and he knew she was about to spit it out—

He grabbed her throat, forcing her eyes on him.

“Swallow.”

Her eyes widened.

“Swallow.”

Her eyes watered as she complied. He felt her neck bob against his palm as she swallowed.

She immediately opened her mouth, gasping as she tried to breathe after swallowing such a thing. A bead of cum managed to slip out onto the corner of her lip and he immediately caught it with his thumb.

He smeared it across her lower lip, “Good girl.”

He suddenly gripped her hair, forcing her to look up at him. His erect cock barely an inch away from her face.

“Who taught you that?” he demanded.

“M-millie.” she stuttered out, breathless.

“Millie?” he let out a short, astonished laugh.

He watched her hand come up to the center of her chest, rubbing the spot of her sternum that his cock head had been hitting moments ago when he’d fucked those plump tits of hers.

“Millie’s tryna have your pussy sore for a week, huh.”

“You already do that.” she replied weakly.

His teeth ran over his bottom lip, “Ara..”

She lay on her side, his chest all up against her back. His hand held her thigh up as she felt his warm breath travel down her neck.

She jolted when she felt his cock poke at her cunt.

"Wait-“ she reached towards the nightstand for condoms only for his other arm to wrap around her shoulders and shove her back against him.

“No.” his lips brushed against her ear. “Not today.”

She attempted to close her legs, but his hand under her thigh resisted—keeping her cunt wide open. The tip of cock slipped inside her warmth, making her gasp.

“It’s my birthday.”

Her hands pushed at his arm around her shoulders, “Toru, no—no!” she attempted to wriggle her hips away from him as he pushed more of his cock inside.

“I’ll get you a plan b tomorrow.”

He’d been doing that a lot recently-escaping wearing a condom by buying her a plan b the next day. He'd told her he respected her decision of not wanting to take birth control because her fear of the side effects and yet-by acting like this-he was putting them both at risk.

She struggled in his grasp, her eyes squeezing shut as he forced more of himself inside. His cock opening up her warm depths the deeper he went.

“Stop it, Toru. stop it!”

“sh, sh, sh,” he kissed her cheekbone, his grip on her shaky thigh tightening as he opened her legs wider. “It’s gonna be fine, kitten. Don’t worry.”

He sent one hard, deep thrust to her cunt—making her whine.

He stared at her distressed expression from above her shoulder before slowly grinding his cock into her, watching her expression unravel as she whimpered.

“Just for today.” he murmured into her ear.

He buried his face into her shoulder, sending another harsh thrust to her cunt. She cried out, her nails scratching at his arm around her shoulders as he began to fuck her hard.

“Jus let me have this today.”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

She felt it—him fucking his cum back into her. it was too much. he just came and hadn’t pulled out, hadn’t stopped.

“Toru, stop—stop. pull out-please—“ she begged.

His hand fisting her hair yanked her head back. His fingers dug into her hip as he bent over her, lips at her ear.

“Why should i?”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

“You feel so fucking good kitten.” he rasped.

“nghhh.” she felt his cum trickle down the inside of her thighs. His balls slapping her cunt with each rough fuck.

He pushed her back down, his hand still in her hair as he continued to bully her pussy with his cock. Her pussy was so hot and tight. He didn’t want to take his cock out that warmth even for a second.

“Your cunt’s made for me.”

His hand on her hip slid to her ass, delivering one firm slap to her ass cheek. She cried out as her cunt tightened around him.

“Oh? You like that, kitten?”

He slapped her ass once more. He swore her cunt got wetter.

“s-stop!”

“Your cunt is wrapping around me so tight, you sure want me too?”

She tried to turn but his hand in her hair prevented her.

“Hurts.” she gasped out, her ass cheek throbbing where he hit it.

fwop. fwop. fwop.

She moaned, his cock fucking into her ferociously. She gripped the sheets, her thighs trembling.

“You close kitten?”

His voice felt distant to her ears as she gasped. Her body couldn’t take the feeling of all of this. His cock pounding into her, his hand gripping her hair, his hand running down the back of her thigh-collecting his escaped cum on his fingers and smearing it over her skin. It felt like too much.

Suddenly he smacked her ass once more, sending her over the edge. She moaned.

Her moan was music to his ears. He watched her back sexily arch as her thighs trembled oh so badly. He let go of her hair to let her fall forward.

He grabbed her hips, letting his fingers dig deep into her soft skin as he pounded into her relentlessly. He wanted to feel every twitch and squeeze of her pretty little cunt as she came.

He groaned as he felt her cunt writhe around him, her insides wounding around him so tight—it felt like her pussy walls were dying to milk him dry.

He glanced down to see her pussy juices squirt out despite him still being inside—still fucking her. He watched his cum spill out the sides of her cunt as well, mixed in with her yummy pussy juices. the sight was intoxicating.

She was so creamy and wet inside that a delicious sound followed when he continued to fuck her out.

He knew he should stop, let his cum from earlier at least leave her but he didn’t want to. She was mewling so cutely, shaking her hips as she attempted to pull herself off him.

He yanked her back down by the hips. She cried out.

He leaned over her, slipping his hands around her tits as he spoke into the crook of her neck.

“I’m not done yet, kitten.”

“nghhh—toru, please. please!”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

Her hands were on his chest as her body bounced on top of him. His cock thrusted into her from underneath.

He stared up at her intently as he held her waist. He was breathless-watching her tits bounce with each fuck was an addicting sight.

She was barely able to sit upright on top of him. mascara stains trailed down her cheeks and her pouty lips were reddened and raw from his kisses. god, she’s never looked sexier.

“toruu!” she whined.

He sent another thrust up into her core, “I’m here baby.”

She lifted her hands, pushing her long hair back before resting her hands on his chest again—trying to keep her balance despite barely being able to string one thought together.

She looked down at him. his eyes were so bright, so lustful and hungry. he was truly so wanton for her, it was incomprehensible.

His hands on her waist controlled her, moving her up and down on his cock as he pleased. it felt so good, she couldn’t stop him. his cock head was hitting all the right places.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ara. you know that?” he hissed out, “beautiful.”

She glanced over to see he was looking at her tits, which were flying upwards with each push of his cock. She self-consciously covered them with her hands.

He immediately reached over, shoving her hands back.

“Don’t hide them from me.”

He grabbed her tits in each of his hands, squeezing them eagerly. her tits were big enough that they filled the entirety of his large hands. She moaned.

He could never get over the feel of her in his hands. it always filled him with a heady sensation when he thought of how he was the only one who got to feel her like this—see her like this. to think she’d even let him fuck these perfect tits of hers willingly earlier.

He pumped his cock into her faster. She moaned, throwing her head back. Her perfect neck and tits protruding out just for him.

His eyes ran over the several hickeys along her decolletage. mmm, it only made him want to give her more.

He leaned up, sliding one hand down to her waist before latching his lips to her unattended tit. sucking her nipple like his life depended on it. his tongue circling the perfect hard little nub.

“nghhh!! ugh—nghh!”

Her fingers slipped in his hair as his cock continued to fuck her gummy pussy. His groin was so wet from her juices but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

She was all he ever wanted.

Geto walked with Millie upstairs. it was around 7 am. The estate was a mess. Most people had gone home or were passed out sleeping somewhere but Gojo hadn’t been seen for the past few hours.

“Are you sure you know where his room his?”

He shot her a look.

She raised her hands, “Sorry. This place is so damn big. I would get lost even if I came here a million times.”

“I’ve probably been here more than a million times.” he muttered.

Just as they walked towards Gojo’s bedroom door, they both froze. Millie and Geto looked at each other.

The squelching sounds of fucking was audible through the door, alongside Ara’s sweet needy moans.

Millie’s eyes immediately widened before she ran towards their bedroom and pressed her ear to the door.

All she heard was more squelching noises and the sound of low masculine murmurs-Gojo-as he talked her through it. Ara moaned once more.

Geto tugged at Millie’s arm, flushed. “Lets go.”

“No wait-“ she pressed her ear to the door again, “I’m tryna hear what he’s saying.”

His face screwed up, “Why?”

“Cuz-“ another feminine moan left Ara—this time more drawn out, more whimpery.

Millie’s eyes widened, “Holy shit, she sounds so hot.”

Geto closed his eyes, shaking his head. This time grabbing her elbow and tugging her.

“Lets go.”

She was laughing airily, “I did not know she could sound like that, oh my god.”

He made a face and Millie lightly punched his chest, “Oh come on. her moans were hot, you can admit it.”

He continued to walk her down the stairs, “That’s my boy’s girl. I’m not saying shit, that’s weird.”

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever. I’m just glad the plan worked.”

He glanced over to see a smile on her lips, “The plan?”

She smirked up at him, “Let’s just say Ara didn’t know what to get him for his birthday and I had an idea. She hated the idea at first but she knew he would like it. Any boy would.”

He grimaced, “What did you corrupt her with now?”

“I didn’t corrupt her. Technically that was all your best friends doing,” she shrugged, “but she looks happier now though so I’m just happy for her.”

“Is she happier?” Geto asked.

She raised a brow, “Yeah. why?”

“I dunno. She’s kinda hard to read,” he admitted, “I’m just surprised her Dad hasn’t contacted her yet.”

“She told you about that?” Millie asked, astonished.

He shook his head, “No, Gojo did.”

“Yeah no. Her dad hasn’t contacted her. She hasn’t called him either.”

“She hasn’t?”

Millie shook her head, “She hates him.”

Millie watched the corner of his lips dip into a subtle frown.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Oh-nothing.”

“Tell me.” she insisted.

He ran a hand through his hair, “It’s just a tough situation, isn’t it?”

She sighed, “It is but… at least she has Gojo.”

Gojo hopped into the kitchen a little after 1 pm.

“Marinn~” he was singing until he froze and glanced around, “Oh? y’all are still here.”

Haibara, Toji, Nanami and Geto sat around the island counter. Marin stood on the other side, sliding Toji another plate of food since he’d requested it.

Toji gave him a once-over. Gojo’s hair was rumpled and a few hickeys were visible along the neckline of white T-shirt.

Toji sipped at his coffee, “You had a night.”

“Probably the best night of my life.” he grinned before sliding onto one of the stools along the island, beside them. Toji whistled.

Gojo asked, “What about you guys?”

“Last night was insane.” Haibara croaked out, voice dry from all the singing he’d done, “I did not expect Travis Scott to show up. What the hell?”

Gojo laughed, “I didn’t either but it was open invite for A-listers so-“ he shrugged, “Here we are.”

“He was so chill.” Haibara went on.

Gojo suddenly snapped his fingers, as if belatedly remembering, “Marin.”

Marin’s head snapped up, “Yes, I’m making you a plate.”

“Can you make one for Ara as well? Make her a green tea too.”

“Yes.”

“Let me know when you're done, I wanna bring it up to her."

“Yes sir.”

He glanced around at the other boys, “I didn’t check the house but did security sweep the place yet?”

“Yeah, they did this morning. around 10 am.” Nanami grumbled out a second before Marin could answer. “I hope you don’t mind that Shoko and I stayed in one of your guest rooms.”

“Your’re kidding right?” Gojo grinned, “I’d never mind Nanamin~”

“Is Shoko still here?” Geto asked.

“Nah,” he rubbed his brow, “We got into a fight this morning so she left early.”

“Damn.” Toji muttered.

“Did something happen?” Haibara inquired.

“Just some stuff. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Haibara nodded, a subtle pout on his lips.

Gojo reached out, patting Nanami’s shoulder, “You’ll get through it. I believe in y—“

Nanami shrugged his hand off, “Easy for you to say. You just had the best night of your life.” he mocked.

Toji suddenly leaned towards Gojo, “Yeah, so what the hell happened? Ara keep you busy?”

“Very,” he grinned, his teeth subconsciously running over his bottom lip as the memories flooded his mind.

“Look at this guy.” Toji smirked, before grasping Geto’s shoulder and shaking it.

“Did she give you a gift?” Haibara asked innocently.

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “She was the gift.”

Toji and Haibara started hooting and hollering while Geto and Nanami shook their heads.

The sound of the waves washing over the sand felt like therapy without therapy. It was lovely.

Gojo had brought her here on a whim—all because she’d said she’s never seen the beach at night. It was literally Sunday. They had school in six hours and he didn’t care. He insisted that she had to see it and here they were.

And for once, he was right. This was beautiful.

She gazed out at the moon reflected in the water. The water appeared black due to the night sky and yet, nothing about it seemed ominous. Instead it felt like she belonged here.

The light passing breeze made her waist length hair ripple past her shoulders. She tugged her shrug around herself before glancing over to see Gojo wasn’t beside her.

She stopped walking and turned around.

He was a little ways away behind her, following her. His hands in his pockets. The second he spotted her looking, he smiled.

His arm slipped around her shoulders, easily catching up, “What do you think?”

He kissed her temple as she responded, “It’s so nice.”

He grinned slightly, “Right? Let’s sit.”

They sat down on the sand. The water rushing along the beachside only a few feet away. Ara stared out at the palm trees swaying in the distance.

He rubbed her back, “I knew you’d like it.”

She drew her knees up to her chest, “There’s no one here.”

“We got lucky.”

According to him, this was a rather popular beach. It was beautiful so she could see why.

“I like.. how it smells.” she felt ridiculous saying it but it was true. somehow the beach smelled calming, reassuring in a silent way.

He kissed her shoulder, “I like how you smell.”

She squinted at him.

He smirked back at her. His eyes dropping to her lips before returning back to her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nodded.

“Where is your mom?”

She froze, not expecting that question in the slightest.

“I don’t know.” she answered.

“Really?” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Last I heard she was in Turkey. She has family all over the world so she’s always traveling to see them.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

She paused, “Three years ago. She.. used to call but not so much anymore.”

“Does she work?”

“No. Grandpa just sends her money.”

“Are you close with your grandparents?”

She shook her head, “I only spoke to grandpa once on the phone.”

“Hm,” he waited a beat before asking, “Are your parents divorced?”

“No but they might as well be. She doesn’t call me so I know she doesn’t call him.”

Gojo assessed her silently, watching a frown appear on her lips. A million thoughts running behind her pretty eyes.

“Did she leave because of your Dad?”

“Well at first she left because her cousin passed away so she had to go to his funeral but then when Dad kept calling her and asking when she’d be back she started coming up with more excuses, prolonging her stay and stuff. There’d be times where we didn’t hear from her for months. Dad would get real mad but she called a while back saying that she plans on staying with Grandpa cuz he’s ill now and there’s no one else to take care of him.”

She sighed, “I don’t know if that’s true or just another excuse but.. I know Dad hates her now. He hates me too. He hates me cuz I look just like her.”

His eyes widened slightly.

She looked down, making shapes in the sand between them, “Everytime he looks at me I remind him of her. He said it.”

“He said it?”

“Yeah. He said he would throw acid on my face if he could–said her face doesn’t deserve to exist-”

He caught her wrist, his jaw clenched before he caught a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were filled with tears.

He hated her father’s words. He hated them so much he honestly wanted to drive to his house and rip out his tongue with his bare hands. He wanted to watch the blood pool out of his mouth and then stuff his tongue so far back down his throat he choked on it. It would be easy-so easy that it wouldn’t bother him at all.

What bothered him was the flat tone she used while saying these things–as if it were a fact that she believed. It made him unreasonably angry to think she could believe anything that came out of that useless man’s mouth.

“He sounds jealous to me-sounds jealous as shit that he isn’t as pretty as you and your mother.”

She snatched her wrist out of his grip, “Is that all that matters?”

“No, no,” his hands slipped under her shoulders, tugging her towards him to lift her onto his lap. Before she could resist, his arm wound itself tight around her back and his free hand caught her chin. He tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

His blue eyes searched her face, the pads of his fingertips gently wiping the tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I just didn’t want you to be sad.”

She exhaled through her nose, a faint smile on her lips, “Too late.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, taking in the familiar scent of cologne and the sounds of the waves crashing along the beach. She felt his lips against her forehead and shivered.

His body felt so warm and strong, cradling her like this–his arms gave her a sense of safety that she never felt before him. It should’ve been reassuring but all she could think about is where it all went wrong.

She opened her eyes, staring at his adam's apple before her before slowly raising her eyes–taking in his defined jawline, the smooth planes of his cheeks, his sharp straight nose, long white lashes. Strands of his thick white hair flipped in the light breeze as he stared ahead.

He looked perfect and he didn’t even have to try. And here she was, barely able to stay afloat. What a lovely couple they made.

“Sometimes I wish I was never born.”

His eyes immediately snapped towards her, “Don’t say that.”

She attempted to get out of his arms but his hold suddenly tightened. His forehead pressed against hers, “Don’t ever say that again.” He poked her nose, “You're the best thing that’s ever happened to me, remember? I don’t wanna think about a world without you.”

“You’d live.”

He shook his head, “I wouldn’t.”

“You would.”

He shook his head more vigorously, “I wouldn’t.”

She stayed silent for a moment, holding his gaze–letting the sound of the angry waves crashing against the rocks speak for them. When his gaze didn’t falter, she sighed–giving up. She lay her head in the crook of his neck, letting her hand rest on his chest.

They both stared out at the view until he broke the silence, “Your Mom had you when she was 25 right?”

Her brows furrowed slightly, “Yeah, how did you know that?”

He glanced down at her, poking her stomach, “You told me, remember? You told me you didn’t wanna have kids til you were 25 just like her.”

Her eyes widened as she remembered. That conversation felt so long ago. She’d been so scared then, saying anything that she thought could help her situation.

His hand slipped into the curve of her waist, his thumb caressing her stomach.

“How many kids do you want?”

She felt her face get hot, “Seriously-”

“Tell me. I wanna know.”

“Let me guess, you want a million.”

His arms tightened around her, “I do. I want as many as you want.”

“I wanna fill up our home,” he went on, “jus imagine them running all over the estate, little me’s and you’s.”

Her eyes widened.

“-We’d keep Marin busy, have her babysit them all.”

“Them all?”

“Yeah, she used to babysit me—”

“That’s not what I meant.” she sat up in his lap, “What if I don’t want kids?”

His eyes snapped to hers before slowly searching her face, “Why?” he asked, gently.

She was quiet. A million thoughts running through her mind.

She tried to slip out of his lap but he tugged her back down. His forehead pressing against hers once-more.

“You don’t think you're gonna be a good mama?” the tip of his nose nudged hers as she avoided eye contact, “Hm?”

She turned her head away and he nipped at her jaw, “Tell me.”

She shoved him back, “How can you expect any of us to be good parents, Toru? We literally have been raised by the worst people ever. You with a manipulative uncle and me with an abusive Dad. How are we gonna raise little kids with love when we don’t even know what that’s like?”

“We have our love.”

She stared at him.

“We’ll show our kids what love is by loving each other right,” he spoke rather calmly, “We don’t have to treat our kids the way our parents treated us. We never have to do that. If we get lost and confused, we have each other to rely on. Don’t we?”

She swallowed, her fingers inadvertently hooking around his necklace with their promise ring.

She rested her hand flat on his chest, tucking her head into his shoulder, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” she murmured.

His hand ran down her side, lightly squeezing her waist. “Why, kitten?”

“The idea of being a Mom scares me.”

“There’s nothing scary about passing on your pretty genes.” he teased lightly.

She rolled her eyes only to freeze when he felt his hand cup her chin to make her look up at him.

There was a faint smile on his lips as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, “I want our baby to have your lips.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“-want em’ to have your nose-” he nuzzled her.

His hand slipped into her hair, “-and your long long hair-”

Her hand on his chest pushed him back-getting more distance between them, “You don’t wanna pass on any of your features?”

He shook his head, “Nah, I’m pretty but you’re prettier,”

She felt her cheeks flush despite herself.

“-I just wanna be there for the baby-making.”

“I’m nervous.”

He cupped her face, kissing her forehead, “You have nothing to worry about, kitten. You practiced way more than you needed to.”

She looked up at him, “I messed up my parallel park.”

“Yeah, once. Then you did it perfectly ten times in a row after.”

“I still messed up.”

“Hey-” he waited until she met his gaze again, “How long have I been driving for?”

It took her a second to remember, “3 years.”

“Yeah and I haven’t gotten a ticket once-”

“-because the cops know you-”

“Because I’m a good driver and you’ve been practicing with me-a good driver-all this time. Why would I set you up to fail?”

She moved his hands off her face and sighed, “You're right, you're right.”

She held onto one of his hands with both of hers. She stared down at it for a moment before facing him.

“I’m worried for nothing.” she spoke firmly.

He copied her tone, “You’re worried for nothing.”

“I’m gonna pass.”

“You’re gonna pass.”

She straightened her posture, “I am.”

He smiled.

He watched the car come to a stop in front of him. She jumped out of the driver’s side and ran straight towards him. The second he saw her smile he knew.

She jumped into his arms and he caught her. He was grinning like a madman.

“I passed. I passed. I passed!”

He kissed her head a million times, squeezing her oh so tight. He never wanted to let go.

“Miss, you forgot this.”

They both turned to look at the instructor holding her Birkin. A warm smile on the instructor’s lips.

Ara lightly pushed his shoulder, signaling him to put her down but instead he walked over with one arm under her ass. He reached out to take the Birkin from the instructor.

“Thank you.” Him and Ara said at the same time.

The instructor beamed at them, “You guys are so cute. Y’all remind me of my younger days.”

He smirked at the elderly woman, “I’m happy to help.”

Ara fixed him with a look.

“What?” he looked at her blankly.

Ara watched the instructor’s smile falter before she turned around and walked away.

Ara whispered harshly, “I’m happy to help?!”

“She looks a month away from getting dementia, remembering her younger days is good for her.” he insisted.

She smacked her forehead, “I hate you.”

He merely smiled while walking in the direction of his car.

“How do you wanna celebrate, hm? You hungry–”

She attempted to wriggle out of his hold but he didn’t budge.

“–wanna get food? Or should we go to a car dealership first?”

She froze.

“Gotta get your first car, baby,” he excitedly shook her in his hold before facing her, “I’m so excited that I’m here for this.”

“You want to buy me a car?” she asked, astonished.

“Of course,” he answered simply before grinning, “I’m the best boyfriend ever right?”

Her brows furrowed before she hid her face in his neck. She drew her arms tighter around his shoulders as she mumbled, “You ruin it when you say that.”

His grin widened before he kissed her temple, “What’s your dream car?”

“I don’t know.”

“There’s gotta be something.”

“Well.. I guess Teslas look kinda cool.”

“Blegh, you aim too low.”

She glared at him, “Sorry I didn’t immediately think Ferrari. That’s a little out of my tax bracket-“

“Ferrari?” his eyes brightened, “You like Ferraris?”

“Stop it, Toru,” her voice came out muffled against his shirt, “I’m not letting you buy me a car.”

“Which Ferrari model?”

“Stop.”

“What color?”

“Stop.”

Millie walked into her closet. She watched Millie’s mouth immediately drop open.

“Holy shit.”

Ara couldn’t help but feel some sort of deja vu because she remembered when she first entered Millie’s closet, she’d once reacted the same-but now her closet was probably a dozen times bigger than Millie’s.

Ara waved towards the left side, “That’s his side.” then gestured towards the right side, “This is my side.”

Her side was a half full compared to his-which was completely stuffed to the brim.

“Let me show you the dresses I was talking about.” Ara muttered before walking deeper into the closet.

Millie eyed Gojo’s sneaker collection, “Goddamn.”

“Here.”

Millie glanced over to see Ara remove a few clothes from where they hung and set them down on the island counter at the closet’s center.

“Oh my god,” Millie ran her hand over the material of the several dresses she’d laid out.

She picked out a label for one of the dresses, “This is Saint Laurent? Wow..”

She then picked out the labels for the other dresses, “Valentino, Georgia Armani, Eli saab..”

Ara itched the back of her neck, “Yeah, he pulled some of their archived early 2000s pieces cuz he knew I liked them but..”

Millie sighed, “You are living the dream.”

Ara reddened, “You can borrow whatever dress you want. There’s no way I’m gonna wear all these. I barely go to formal events.”

Millie set her hands down on the counter, “Yes, but this is prom. You gotta go all out.”

“I know, which is why this is stressing me out.”

“Why? You have such nice options.”

“That’s the thing. I literally have all these dresses he already bought and custom fit for me and yet he still wants me to tell him a fashion house that I wanna wear so he could get them to custom make us a dress and his suit.”

“That’s… insane,” Millie gushed, “Which brand are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I told him I could just wear one of these but-“

“Uh, no! You have the opportunity to get a brand new dress made completely for you from any high fashion brand? I’m not letting you pass that up.”

She snatched Ara’s phone, “Unlock this and open your pinterest.”

Ara raised a brow before hesitantly doing as told, “Why?”

Once Millie saw she’d opened the pinterest app she snatched the phone back, “I’m gonna see your aesthetic and tell you what high fashion house I think you belong in.”

“Thank you so much for wearing my dress, darling. It looks absolutely incredible on you. Give me one more spin?”

Ara smiled slightly before handing off the phone to one of the fashion designer’s assistants. She spun once more for the camera.

“You are a goddess.”

“Please,” Ara was flustered enough as is by all the compliments the Belgium born, Parisian designer Ludovic de Sermon had to offer her since they’d met a few weeks ago. Despite not having known him for long, they got along rather well.

His spontaneous personality fit perfectly with her introvertedness. Just watching his creative process with design made her respect him more than he knew.

He’d been awfully patient with her, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect—and here she was, feeling perfect and beyond. and he was terribly upset he wasn’t there to see it.

Unfortunately he had to take a last minute flight back to Paris to check up on his fiancé since he’d gotten hospitalized due to a motorcycle accident. His team was still here, they’d helped her get the dress on.

“Don't please me. You look like a goddess.” he insisted.

She stepped towards the phone to see him on the Facetime, his assistant still held up the phone for her.

“Is your fiance really gonna be okay?”

He waved a hand, “Don’t you worry about him. He just has a concussion and a few bruises—god, the damn boy gave me a heart attack. I swear I’m gonna set his motorcycles on fire one of these days.”

Ara laughed.

“Don’t you spend a second worrying about him and enjoy your prom to the fullest, okay? You only get prom once. Don’t forget to send me the pictures!”

“Alright, alright, I will. Thank you so much for everything seriously.”

“No, thank you for being such a stunning sweet soul. I’m here for you if you ever need anything.”

Ara blew him a kiss the same time he did. The call ended just as Gojo abruptly entered the room.

“You ready, ki—“ he froze in his steps.

They both took a second to assess each other.

He wore a monochrome black tuxedo. It was fitted entirely too well, emphasizing his lean waist and well built arms. The contrast of his all-black attire against his pale skin, light hair and eyes—was an alluring mix. It didn’t help that his hair was styled back, with a single white strand curling handsomely over his forehead.

He looked like a celebrity ready for the Met gala.

And she looked like a finely cut ruby, glimmering with every move.

She wore the most sensually shaped red dress. It was a rather straightforward design, two thin straps with a sweetheart neckline. the dress was a cool shimmery red from top to bottom, except for the silver vines and flowers blooming along her right hip.

She took a step towards him and he felt his heart stop. her floor length dress sparkled addictively under the lights. he couldn’t look away.

(a/n: if anyone if curious here’s how her dress looks like https://pin.it/14Qe2ZSxm )

He’d never seen her hair in an updo like this. it was an elegant, perfectly messy low bun with strands of her hair falling loose along her sparkly nape. a few strands swooped attractively around the sides of her pretty face.

He fell to his knees.

Her eyes widened, “Satoru!”

He placed a hand over his chest, “I can’t breathe.”

Her concerned expression fell, “Seriously.”

He bent over, placing his hands on the ground in a praying stance. A few of the surrounding team members started laughing.

Ara smiled, subtly shaking her head, “Toru get up.”

“I can’t.”

She walked up to him and folded her arms. “C’mon Toru, get up.”

He partially rose from his praying stance to his knees. He stared up at her. She didn’t need to hear him to know what he was thinking.

How’d I get so lucky?

She felt her heartbeat scatter all over the place. It was hard to focus with him looking up at her like this.

She touched his cheek, “Come on, get up. I have something to give you.”

He slowly stood up. He stared down at her for a moment before one of his hands slipped along the side of her neck, his thumb running down her jaw.

“If I could frame you, I would.”

A little shy smile bloomed along her lips before he saw her gaze rest on his mouth. She clutched the lapels of his suit and rose on the tippie toes of her heels to kiss him.

Somewhere in the room, the makeup artist shook her head. She took out the lip combo she used and tossed it in Ara’s clutch.

Gojo sighed into her lips. His hands sliding down her sides before coming to rest on her ass. He gave her ass a squeeze as their tongues clashed against each others. He swore she was a better kisser than him now.

She broke the kiss, her chest slightly rising and falling as she caught her breath.

Her eyes suddenly widened, “Oh no.”

“What?”

She quickly rubbed away the lipstick on his lips with her thumb. She smiled slightly, “Never mind.”

He grinned, “Is that what you had to give me?”

“No. It was this.” she held up a bedazzling silver flower brooch that matched the design of the flowers on her dress. She pinned it to his lapel, “Ludovic wanted me to give it to you.”

Her hand slid down his chest. The material of his suit felt expensive against her palm.

She didn’t meet his eyes, “You look really handsome.”

He tilted her chin up, a wide smile on his lips, “Hm?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“You heard me just fine, idiot.”

“Pleaseee. i just wanna hear it one more time, just one more.”

“No.”

“Pleaseeee~”

She grabbed his face, “You look handsome.”

His eyes widened before he beamed. She didn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks.

His hands fit perfectly in the curves of her waist, “Thank you…for telling me what I know.”

She shoved him back.

Prom was on a yacht. An actual fucking yacht.

It was unreal.

She leaned on the railing, staring out at the sea. The sun was setting and it colored the water waves with a faint pinky orange hue, reflecting the sky.

She felt her hand itch with the sudden urge to paint. The urge surprised her. She hadn’t felt any muse to indulge in her art hobby ever since she moved into Gojo’s estate–or, sorry, their home-something he always aggressively corrected her on.

She turned slightly, staring at her fellow classmates and peers. They’d all gotten decked out–not one person slacking. Everyone had beautiful pieces on, from jewelry to makeup to outfits to grills. It truly felt like her academy’s Met gala.

It felt weird to think about how if she wasn’t living with Gojo she would’ve missed this entire experience. One, there was no way on Earth her Dad would’ve let her go to prom 2. She would’ve never been able to pay for the ticket and then the dress, hair, nails, makeup, heels, etc etc. She once thought it bizarre how people could spend thousands of dollars for just one night’s look but-looking at the people around her-she realized what a production these events were for rich people. It was insane.

Even the yacht itself was decked out. Flowers hung from the ceiling, along with dreamy white curtains along the pergola. The weather was perfect, not too hot with a calm breeze flowing through here and there. The music was tasteful and it seemed the small platters the servers were handing out were tasteful as well since her classmates were chasing after the servers for more.

Another breeze passed, making the scent of the flowers waft over her. She found herself wondering if she was dreaming.

Suddenly Principal Yaga stepped onto the mini stage. He cleared his throat on the mic to gather everyone’s attention.

“Hello hello hello, graduating class. Who would’ve thought y’all would make it this far.”

A few laughs arose.

“Anyway, I have a few words to say to this class. First things first, you lot of hooligans will definitely be missed-despite how annoying some of you were-”

Ara zoned out. She’d never been that close with the principal but she knew Gojo, Shoko and Geto were. She wasn’t entirely sure why but she supposed he seemed nice enough. He tried to keep a strict hand over the students but-with the type of students this academy got-it was relatively impossible. Let’s just say money fixed a lot of these students' problems.

“And now, I’d like to announce Prom King and Queen.”

A rush of low murmurs could be heard amongst the students.

“You guys all voted and the results have been collected and counted. I have two crowns here, waiting for our class favorites.” he held up the glimmering crowns.

She smiled slightly, she already knew who Prom King was going to be but Prom Queen– she suddenly felt someone elbow her.

She looked over to see Gojo smirking down at her, offering her his elbow to hold, “Are you ready?”

She frowned only to hear Principal Yaga’s voice bellow on the mic, “Our Prom King and Queen are… Gojo Satoru and Ara Natsuna!”

Ara felt the spotlight on them and reddened. She slipped her arm through Gojo’s and let him lead her through the pathway their fellow classmates made. But she couldn’t understand, there was no way these students voted for her. She barely spoke to them-maybe she did while she was drunk at parties-but she was more than aware of how uncharismatic she was.

She peered up at Gojo through narrowed eyes. He definitely rigged it.

As per usual, her boyfriend was eating all the attention up. He grinned from ear to ear as they walked atop the stage towards Principal Yaga. She was too distracted by all the attention to make out the words they exchanged until Principal Yaga reached out to shake her hand.

“Congratulations Queen Ara Natsuna.”

She shook his hand and offered him a small smile before tilting her head down for him to crown her. Gojo beamed as he watched.

“And Congratulations King Satoru Gojo.” she swore there was a bit of a grumble to his tone but Gojo took it with pride. The crowd went wild as he bowed down to get crowned.

“Everybody, let's hear some noise for our Prom King and Queen!”

Suddenly the crowd hollered thrice as loud. She swore she could hear Millie chanting her name and couldn't help but smile. Rose petals were suddenly thrown all over them. She could help but adjust the crown on her head nervously.

She felt Gojo’s arm slip around her waist and looked up at him, “You rigged it didn’t you?”

“What’s there to rig? Everyone knows you're my queen.” a sly grin slipped onto his lips as he added, “My short, pocket-sized princess.”

She glared up at him, “I’m not short.” -knowing full well that he was a whole foot taller than her.

They’d taken a break from dancing to have a snack. Well, she was snacking. Gojo was knocking back entree after entree like he hadn’t eaten in a week. His appetite never failed to surprise her.

She leaned back in her seat, sipping at her mocktail. Technically it was a school function but she was more than sure people brought things to mix in with their drinks–despite everyone having been body searched by a cop upon entrance to the yacht. If there was one thing she learned about rich people, they knew how to bypass a whole lot of shit.

She watched Shoko slip out two mini-bottles of Jack Daniels from her bra. She eyed her friend, Leah, from across the table and they both stood up to walk towards the bathroom.

Millie suddenly slipped into the seat next to her, “Oh my god, I’m out of breath.” She suddenly whipped out a foldable Chinese hand fan and began to fan herself. The color of it matched perfectly with her dress.

Toji reached over and grabbed that from her, “Gimme that.” He began to fan himself.

“Excuse me.” she snatched it back,

Gojo chuckled beside her, “That’s gotta be the ugliest accessory I’ve seen all day. Did you get that from the dollar store?”

“No,” Millie shot back before stating proudly, “This was hand-made and delivered from China.”

“-ordered off of Shein.” Toji added.

“Ugh, ew.” Millie made a face at him, “I would never but I know that’s probably all you can afford.”

Toji narrowed his eyes, “Ha ha.” he responded sarcastically. Ara had only recently discovered that he’d run away from his family too–a wealthy family as well from what she’d heard. She didn’t know who he lived with currently.

“How’d you pay for your ticket?” Millie questioned.

“I did!” Haibara piped up excitedly. “I wanted all of us to be here.”

“You’re so nice, Haibara,” she batted her eyelashes, “but you honestly shouldn’t have.”

Toji merely grinned.

Suddenly Shoko reappeared, sliding back in the seat next to Nanami-who was eating rather diligently. Geto followed behind her, a plate full of food in his hands. He slipped into the seat between Gojo and Shoko.

“Did you get the lobster?” Gojo asked him, “Shit is amazing.”

“I did.”

Shoko reached over and plucked a gyoza off Geto’s plate before popping it into her mouth, “Mmm, that’s good.”

“You want me to get you some?” Nanami offered. He was such a gentleman.

Shoko smiled softly, “Are you gonna get seconds?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’ll just go up with you when you’re done.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Gojo was about to chomp into his breadstick before he froze and looked over at Ara. He must’ve overheard Shoko and Nanami’s conversation as well because suddenly he eyed her empty plate and asked, “You want me to get you somethin’ Prom Queen?”

She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, “No thanks.”

He tapped his cheek, silently asking her for a kiss on the cheek. She merely scrunched her nose before undoing the nearest origami rose napkin. She dabbed the napkin along the corner of his lips.

“You got crumbs everywhere.” she muttered.

He merely smirked, “Thank you mommy.”

“Stop.”

She entered the room to find her night bag already in it. Prom was over but the night had just begun.

Normally staying the night on the yacht would be an additional fee for the students since the academy only booked it for the evening-but since it was Gojo’s yacht that wasn’t necessary.

Principal Yaga hadn’t wanted to host prom on Gojo’s yacht at first—especially when Gojo offered to rent it to him for free. He deemed it unprofessional but once Gojo offered him a discounted price aka half the price of what other yacht companies were offering, he couldn’t refuse.

Shoko was throwing an after party and everyone from prom was bound to be in attendance. Shoko promised to use every square inch of the place, from the outdoor bar, beach club, tennis court, deck jacuzzi, movie theater, massage room and sauna. How she planned on doing all that in one night, Ara didn’t know. All Ara knew was that it was time to change for the after party.

The room was nearly half the size of Gojo’s room at the estate but still eye-catching in its design—it was more modern, resplendent, nothing short of luxurious. She was sure they had the best room on the yacht.

She walked towards her overnight bag on the table only to freeze when she saw the breath-taking view through the glass wall.

She ran over to the sliding doors, pushing them open before leaning against the railing and staring out. The sea churned around them, waves dark and beguiling. The reflection of the stars glittered amongst the water. The moon no where in sight.

That same calm that consumed her when she’d first seen the sea at night with Satoru came over her once more. Easing away all her little anxieties from the night.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t tired. She’d been facing people all day. From the makeup team, to the hair team, to the dress team, then the actual event of prom itself. She’d enjoyed herself but it was nice to have a breather by herself. It was needed.

Even though she knew she wouldn’t be alone for much longer.

As if on cue, she faintly heard the locking mechanism of the door and glanced over her shoulder. She watched Gojo saunter into the room. He slipped off his bowtie, tossing it onto the bed, before undoing a few buttons at his collar.

Just as he moved to join her he spotted her phone vibrating on the bed. It seemed to be from an unsaved number. He glanced at Ara, his eyes lingering on her slender back as she stared out at the sea.

He picked up the call and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" A slightly older feminine voice arose from the other end of the line. She sounded oddly familar..

He remained silent.

"Hello Ara? Ara, it's me. Mum. We haven't talked in a while," she paused, "I called your Dad and he says you haven't been home? Are you okay? Are you safe?"

No wonder she sounded familiar, she sounded like an older version of her.

She seemed hesitant as she asked, "Your graduation is coming up right-" he ended the call.

He stared at the phone in his hand for a moment, contemplating. The next thing he knew he was deleting any evidence of the call and blocking the number.

He glanced at Ara once more, at her relaxed position against the railing, at her fetching side profile as she turned to face the breeze. She was happy like this, she was at peace.

He tossed her phone back on the bed and headed to her.

His arms slipped around her waist as he bent low to kiss her neck, his lips touching her pulsepoint before resting his chin atop her head. He always thought they fit perfectly together like this, with her small back against his chest-like missing puzzle pieces coming together.

He stared out at the ripples along the dark waters. It was captivating. The view of the beach and buildings in the distance. Little speed boats passed by and the scent of the sea that she’d once mentioned surrounded them.

Music drifted from overhead, the after party must’ve started.

“Satoru?” she suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” he kissed her head.

She turned around, unraveling from their embrace to face him.

“Why do you love me?”

He was gonna make a joke, but then he saw her eyes. This wasn’t coming from a shallow self-deprecating place or somewhere lighthearted, she truly wanted to know why.

It should’ve been easy, expressing his love towards her was always easy but when asked like this–with so much care and directness. For once he felt afraid of what he would say. He didn’t want to say something that would push her away when he’d finally gotten her this close.

But Geto once told him it wasn’t his honesty that was the issue, it was the way he phrased himself that was.

‘There’s always a nicer way to say things’ his words echoed in his mind.

It wasn’t like what he had to say was mean but–fuck, he was growing nervous under her stare. His thoughts were escaping him. It was hard to focus when she was looking at him like that. Like his words would mean something–make or break something. And it didn’t help that he was keenly aware she hadn’t told him she loved him back yet.

He was overthinking–he knew. Only she could make him like this. She was just so perfect, all he wanted in a human being all rolled up in one girl. It scared him–everything about her scared him whenever he thought about her like this.

I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t lose you.

His gut tightened with an incomprehensible rush and he felt that aching need to touch her again. That tremor in his fingers that was only eased with his hands on her skin, his lips on her body.

He shook his head abruptly, his hands flexing at his sides before he offered her a light smile.

“I don’t think there’s just one reason.”

She tilted her head, her curious eyes raking over his face, “Then tell me.”

“You’re smart, you’re thoughtful,” a slight laugh escaped him as he added, “--and really really sexy.”

“And?”

She took a step towards him and he blurted out, “I can’t sleep without you.”

He saw her gaze darken as she stepped back, “Oh so it’s just about the sex.”

“No, no. I mean–I literally can’t sleep without you.. by my side.”

Ara’s brows furrowed as she thought about that. Ever since they got together there wasn’t one night that he hadn’t spent with her. Even when she’d wanted to have a sleepover with Milie he always refused, nagging her enough that she decided it wasn’t worth the argument.

She tilted her chin up, “You did it for two months when we broke up.”

“Not by choice.” He reached out to touch her cheek, slipping a piece of her hair behind her ear as he did so. His hand lingering longer than necessary as he chuckled thinly, “You really taught me patience.”

“You think you’re patient?”

“Eh, it’s a work in progress.” he leaned towards her, “but I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he whined before taking her hand and pressing it to his cheek. He pouted, “You taught me a lot, y’know.”

She raised a brow, “Like?”

“I feel like..” he glanced away, the faint pink on his cheeks made her eyes widen.

“I finally know what it's like to have someone care about me,” He murmured, she could see the thoughts brewing behind his eyes as he slowly went on, “I like when you fuss over me. When you remind me of things I forgot or tell me what shirts I should burn. I like when you.. touch my hair and ask me how my day is after I come back home from practice or when you like a gift so much you forget to yell at me about the price-” she rolled her eyes at that one “-I like when you yap on and on about something artsy that you forget I’m even there. I like when you leave lil sticky notes around the house saying where you are cuz you know I’m gonna ask.”

He smiled to himself as he went on, “I like when you randomly sit on my lap and nap on me when I’m studying–or when you say my name in your sleep.”

“I don’t!”

His smile widened, “You do.”

“You’re definitely lying–”

He caught her chin, “I especially like when you kiss me when you think I’m deep asleep.”

She pulled his hand off her face, completely red. “I don’t.”

He was grinning, “I feel those pecks in my dreams y’know. They make me all fuzzy and warm inside.”

“That’s because you are dreaming.” she mumbled, turning her back to him.

“I love you Ara.” the gentleness of his voice threw her off.

His voice was lower when he added, “I can’t help but love you.”

She stared down at her feet, at her pointy heels. Her arms tightening around herself as she willed herself to not cry. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I know you feel something too.” His voice was quiet, closer. “I know it.”

“I don’t expect you to tell me–even if I really really want you to.” His voice wavered, “I remember what you said.. about falling for me.. about being afraid to.”

Her eyes flashed opened as she remembered that conversation (a/n: end of chapter 2, pt 1). It felt so long ago when she’d tried to hide away from him for one night in the basement–only for him to show up in her living room the next day. She’d been scared shitless. She didn’t know how she managed to make him agree to her boundaries then–even if her boundaries weren’t much. But they were much for someone like him.

“I don’t blame you,” his voice felt hollow, “after everything you been through, I can’t.”

Her breath hitched when his voice felt closer, “But I’m not your Mom. I’m not your Dad.”

His fingers lightly skimmed her arm, “I’m not going anywhere.”

She felt his breath trail down her nape, she shivered.

His lips barely touched the helix of her ear, “I’m never leaving you.”

She felt him peering down at her from above her. His tall frame hovering as close as it could without touching her. He reached his left arm over her to grasp her right forearm. He turned her around.

She stared up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

He silently searched her face, his gaze the softest she’d ever seen it.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

Her heart ached. She glanced down but he swiftly grabbed her upper arm, forcing her eyes on him. The speed of the action nearly made her stumble, her hands instinctively laying flat on his chest.

“Do you understand?”

He stared down at her, merely taking her in as she held his gaze–seeming to do the same. It took him more restraint than necessary to resist from closing the little distance between them. She was just so flawless, even with the tears on the verge of spilling from her eyes. Her lips were just too close, too tempting to be left unattended.

His jaw locked when her pretty eyes landed on his lips.

Those damn eyes. He’d known her for so long and yet one look in her eyes could make him feel like he didn’t know her at all. Her gaze was always so murky, so alluring. He could never tell what she was thinking no matter how hard he tried. But he’d be a fool to miss the way she was looking at him now.

She looked like she was on the verge of falling off a cliff, with so much to say yet nothing at all. She looked like she was yearning for something–longing for it so badly she didn't know what to do with herself and yet she was fighting it—warring with herself. Locked in this mental anguish he so badly wanted to understand. If he could dissect each and every one of her thoughts, he would.

She grabbed his shirt in her fists, “I love you.”

He was frozen, not sure if he heard correctly. His brain must be short-circuiting right? Right?

They were kissing, she didn’t know who started it. If it was her or if it was him but this was eager, desperate and theirs. Their lips were molded together, pressing and pushing against each other as if demanding the others attention.

She didn’t know when they stumbled into the room or when she’d decided to abandon one of her heels but she knew what was gonna happen when she was tossed onto the bed. She stared up at him as he stood before her. He grabbed her legs, spreading them open before hastily tossing off the remaining heel.

She caught his gaze and reached her arms out. He immediately bent over her, letting her svelte arms slide around his shoulders as he locked her lips in a feverish kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth, pushing through her full lips to swallow her whole—Mmm, I need her. I need her. I need her.

Her sweet perfume filled his nostrils as pressed himself closer against her, pushing her further into the bed from the pressure of his kiss. He tugged down the straps of her dress without breaking the kiss. He refused to leave her lips alone even when he yanked her fitted dress down her waist, her hips—

She broke the kiss just as he dragged the dress past her knees. She threw her head back, needing a breath, only to shiver when he began to nip affectionately at her neck. There was a different fervor to him, a different vehemence. She felt his breath hitch when he finally got her dress off past her feet.

She glanced down when she felt his lips leave her clavicle, only to inhale sharply at the sight.

His belt hit the floor as he unzipped himself at the speed of light, impatient to let his cock loose from his boxers. He was hard, fully hard, his cock head pink and swollen. She watched his cock subtly jolt upwards-throbbing-and felt her cunt tighten.

A ripping sound ensued and she glanced up to see him opening the condom he’d just retrieved from his pocket, with his teeth. He tossed the packet somewhere and slipped the condom over his cock with a bated breath. She could see the tension defining his jaw.

Once it was on, he looked back at her. She froze–stricken by the adoration in his eyes. The rampant need, the raging lust and all-consuming love all coalesced in those devastating blue eyes. She’d never felt so coveted in her entire life.

He bent over her, his hand sliding down her thigh as he did so. His forehead nudged hers just as he hooked his finger through her g-string and easily yanked the thin material off-breaking it. Just as she gasped, the tip of his cock touched her warm entrance and she froze.

His cockhead pressed against her warmth, the tip nearly slipping in–dipping in her hot juices but he didn’t move further until they locked eyes.

Her mind went blank.

Her lips were parted, eyes squeezed shut as she felt all of him inside her. She felt so full–the entirety of her body felt like it was completely full of him. She felt him release a deep breath of relief, as if he’d been waiting all his life to consume her like this. His cock throbbed inside her and her cunt coiled around him reactively.

“Ha-aaah.” he groaned into her cheek.

Her nails dug into his back, expecting the worst but instead his hips pressed deep into her–grinding his cock against her deepest parts, making her gasp. Her mind went blank with stars.

He was stretching her so completely, she shivered as she felt it. She felt as if his cockhead was kissing her from the inside when he delivered short, deep thrusts within her cunt–-never letting his cock leave. Her cunt was slick, completely soft with her juices.

This felt different, more personal somehow despite having done this millions of times before. His bated breath cascaded down her neck and his eyes were trained on her face–completely focused on her, memorizing her as if she were the rarest sight he’d fought all his life to see.

She blushed and suddenly his cock pushed deeper inside her, pressing against her most sensitive walls and she whimpered–moaning. Her cunt instantly squeezed around him.

He groaned through his teeth before palming one of her tits in his hand. Her nipple hardened against his palm as he massaged her soft mound. Her pretty sounds making his cock stiffer inside her.

“You love me?” He muttered down at her.

He released her tit to slide his hand down the side of her body, grasping her hip before picking up the pace of his deep, short thrusts–rutting into her faster.

He spoke into her cheek, “I love you more.”

Her nails dug into his shoulders as cried out, “ngh! Toru–toru!”

“More–more–more–more.”

His cock pounded into her relentlessly, her legs tightening around his waist. She swore she felt each fuck in every cell in her body. It was sloppy, intense, and the squelching sounds that followed made her face get entirely too red.

He pulled out, leaving just the tip inside.

“How much?”

She didn’t get the chance to answer, merely yelling the second his cock slid all the way back in. His balls slapping against her cunt with the ferocity of his fucks.

“This much.”

“Ngh~~~~~” she moaned wantonly, her legs spreading wider to let him fuck her harder. Her tits pressed into his chest as her back arched. She was incapable of handling him when he went this fast–fucking her like she was simply his sweet little ragdoll.

Her cunt squeezed around him, eager—hungry. Her orgasm was close. She felt it and it made her oh so needy, so desperate for him. He made her like this.

He pressed down her, forcing her body lower into the bed. His cock never fully leaving her cunt as he delivered brutal, attuned thrusts to her sweet spot–eager to make her crumble. Her soft tits bounced as they pressed against his chest, making him all the more hungry.

His cock forcefully pressed against her g-spot, pressing against it like he was owed something–and he was, he was owed her.

“Ah!~ohhhh~nghh–ha-nhnnn~” her moans were music to his ears.

He pulled out of her spasming cunt, staring down at her pussy to watch her squirt all over the place. Her hips trembled, her luscious tits bouncing with each jolt of her body as she let out more and more juices. Her hands on his arms gripping him so tightly.

He licked his lips, the sight of her like this was just so ravishing—just seeing her like this made him teeter on the edge of cumming himself. His cock throbbed, pre-cum dripping within his condom.

He lightly slapped her cunt, making her twitch, “I love you.”

He kissed her throat as she writhed sensitively, from the aftermath of her high.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” he went on.

“Toru.” she murmured weakly, her voice too small.

“I love you.” he said just as he forced the entirety of his cock into her once-more. The wet sound that followed was completely lewd but the tight fit of her slick, wet cunt spasming around him—

“Ohhh,” he groaned gutturally into her neck before rasping out, “you’re perfect.”

The maid stared at the bed after they were long gone.

Several of the pillows were strewn across the room, only one in the center of the bed against the headboard. The blankets were a rumpled mess, half on the bed half on the floor. The entire white curtained canopy bed frame was caved in, one of the bedposts laying haphazardly on the floor beside it. And to top it all off, the discarded plastic golden packets of condoms were littered all across the floor.

The maid sighed, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You should’ve let me clean the room at least.” she scolded him lowly.

“Baby i swear it’s fine. They’ve seen worse.”

“I don’t care.”

“That's their job.”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Shoko asked from across them.

She didn’t give them a chance to respond when she leaned back in her seat, “Where the hell were you guys last night? I called both of you.”

The limo suddenly jolted over uneven road. The hair that’d been covering Ara’s neck suddenly shifted over her shoulder, revealing the hickey’s along her neck.

“Well that answers your question.” toji answered dryly.

ara’s brows furrowed before realizing. She flushed as she quickly repositioned her hair despite the hickeys already being seen.

“You guys couldn’t wait to get freaky til after the afterparty?” Shoko questioned grumpily.

Gojo’s hand slipped into ara’s, “oops.”

Shoko rolled her eyes a moment before the limo came to a stop. Geto awoke from his slumber.

ijichi opened the car door, “We are at the brunch spot you requested, sir.”

“You mean i requested. If it were up to satoru we’d be at a bakery right now.” Shoko clarified.

“What’s wrong with bakeries?”

“Not everyone wants to eat sweets for breakfast.”

Ara sighed before picking up her macbook and laying down on the bed. She lay with her front to the sheets and her feet in the air.

She hit the backspace button multiple times-with a bit more ferocity than necessary.

She suddenly felt someone smack her ass and turned around to see gojo. He’d just exited the bathroom.

“What the fuck!” she rubbed her ass, “you’re home?”

He sat on the bed, “yeah, just got back,”

He leaned closer to peer at her laptop, “What’s got you huffing and puffing?”

She angled her laptop away from him, “I’m trying to write my valedictorian speech.”

“Oh, i already finished mine.”

He watched her frown and broke out in a grin. They both ended up getting the valedictorian title. despite the school staff picking apart their grades to a T it seems their gpa was the exact same, down to the decimals. it was the first time their academy had dual valedictorians.

“Alright show off.”

He attempted to reach for her macbook, “Let me see what you wrote so far-“

“No.”

“Come on~”

“Let me see yours then.”

He tilted his head, “Why would I show you mine? Your gonna copy it.”

She scoffed, “Why would i need to copy you?”

“Cuz I'm a good writer.”

“Sure.”

“I'm good at everything.”

“Would you stop talking? You're distracting me.” she huffed, annoyed.

“I’m sorry~” he lightly tickled her chin.

She pretended to bite his finger, making him grin.

He pushed the laptop away from her, leaning close towards her.

“Maybe you need a distraction?”

She leaned back, “I definitely don’t.”

He shut her laptop, before quickly burying his head in the crook of her shoulder and cuddling her.

She smacked his back, “Toru!”

His voice came out muffled against her neck, “I just want your attention~” he whined.

Her shoulders sagged as she gave up, “Great.”

He smiled before shifting himself closer towards her. She stared up at him from the corner of her eye before gradually relaxing.

She stared at the fluttering curtains as the wind blew from the open doors leading to the balcony. the sun was bright, hot enough to make you burnt toast tan in five minutes. the breeze brought in the scent of flowers from the gardens.

She inhaled before exhaling audibly.

“You see?” Satoru’s low voice came from above her ear, “Didn’t you need a break?”

She glanced up to see him gazing down at her.

He lightly tapped her nose, “I’m gonna do this when we’re in university too. bug you when you’re too stressed.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Is that what you're gonna do? Instead of encouraging me to study?”

“I don’t need to encourage you. You study too much.”

“Because I can't engrain my notes in my brain after one read through like you.”

“Why can’t you?”

She rolled her eyes, “I would if I could.”

“s’okay, i’ll help you.” he kissed her cheek, “we can pay someone to take your exams for you.”

She raised a brow, “you can?”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s insane.” she muttered, “I’d probably get expelled if we got caught.”

“You wouldn’t get caught.”

She peered at him through narrowed eyes, “Are you ever not cocky?”

“I’m not being cocky,” he chuckled, “It’s the truth. They’re professional exam takers you can hire but I know you’d never take that up.”

She sighed, “i wouldn’t.” She only trusted herself to submit her best work.

A moment of silence ensued. He drew circles on her stomach with his index finger. She breathed in another flower scented breeze.

“Are you excited about college?” he asked her.

“I’m kind of.. nervous.”

“Yeah?” he perked up, “Why?”

“Because.. isn’t it supposed to be some of the most memorable years of your life?”

“Yeah but shouldn’t that make you hype?”

“It does but I also want to make sure I don't mess with my future. i hear the connections you make in college can really affect your career.”

He chuckled slightly, “We’re going to Stanford, trust. The networking opportunities will be endless baby.”

“So you're not nervous in the least, i’m assuming.”

“i am a little nervous.”

“about?”

“Well it’s a new stage of my life. i’m gonna miss our academy.”

“I won’t.”

He smirked, “Not even your senior year?”

“What’s there to miss?”

“Think your funny huh?” he tickled her stomach lightly, “We had mad fun this year.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He rested his head on her chest, partially laying over her, “I’m happy we’re dorming together.”

Dorms weren’t supposed to be co-ed but of course, nothing was impossible when it came to him. He’d also gotten them a penthouse dorm as well. The privilege her boyfriend had was truly something else.

Her nails raked through his soft hair, “Me too.” she murmured.

He snuggled further against her.

“Now please, let’s welcome one of our dual valedictorians, Ara Natsuna!” Principal Yaga spoke into the mic before smiling grandly at her.

She walked upto the podium, setting down her speech despite not really needing it. She’d memorized it enough times.

There were so many people before her right now. her classmates all donning their cap and gowns. their parents on the bleachers. the numerous staff looking on at her in anticipation. the cameraman below the stage across her.

Normally in circumstances like this she’d want to bury herself in a hole or pray to the holy god above to throw down a lightning strike and make her disintegrate on the spot but no-for once-this felt fine.

Her public speaking coach had trained her through and through. These people around her.. were just people. at the end of the day, their eyes on her wouldn’t make a difference, they couldn’t affect her unless she let it.

There was no point to letting it affect her when the little shitheads that were her classmates would forget her words anyway.

but it was up to her to make this moment count. a moment she’d worked overly zealous for and yet the only person who seemed to care was her boyfriend. her dad was nowhere in the crowd.

She thought she hadn’t dared to hope and yet..

She stood up straighter, offering the crowd a small smile before speaking once the applause died down, “this.. is such a momentous moment. ever since i stepped into high school, being here, on this stage, as valedictorian is all i’ve ever wanted.”

She paused, “and now i’m here.”

She resisted the urge to swallow nervously and instead tipped her chin higher, “I know people say high school is all about the memories, having fun before the real world starts but-as everyone knows-high school is more than that. It's a foundation. not only for your education and career, but for yourself.”

“I couldn’t tell you everything that high school has taught me but one thing I can say with full confidence is that within these past few years I finally know myself. knowing yourself is the best thing you can do for your betterment.”

“knowing your tells. your viewpoints. your stances. your bias. your dreams. your goals. your choices. recognizing these things can save you in the future.”

“Your dreams, are your dreams. and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. if you feel yourself straying off the path you envision for yourself, then listen to your thoughts, your feelings, your gut will tell you, if this is right for you—and I believe if it is right for you, you’ll know.”

“You only live this life once. as cliche as it is, I feel like i have to say it because it’s so easy to forget. to get so absorbed in the past, present, future— wherever your mind lies. regardless of how much you think about things, none of it changes. none of it gets pushed to motion unless you do something about it.”

“You are the creator of your universe. what you allow, is what you attract and what you deny is a choice you control.”

“I hope you all make smart decisions in whatever career path you pursue. our jobs don’t only affect us, but generations behind us. Even if all you do is simply inspire people for a moment, anything makes a difference. everything has a butterfly effect.”

“Just like now, high school might be over but this is really just the beginning.”

She dipped her head slightly in a subtle courteous bow.

“Class of 20XX, i’m out.”

The class erupted in cheers, whistles and applause. She smiled before walking away from the mic, taking her speech from the podium with her-despite having not looked at it once.

The principal clasped her hand, shaking it, “That was wonderful, Ara. truly. Thank you.”

He then walked over to the podium, saying a few words that she was too wired up to hear. Just as she walked off the stage, Gojo grasped her arm.

She glanced up at him.

He was smiling so brightly it put the sun to shame. His eyes glittered with charisma as he looked her up and down.

“I’m so proud of you kitten,” his smile turned into something more mischievous, “My baby sounded like she was gonna conquer the world.”

Ara smiled subtly, “thank you.”

There was something in her eyes he couldn’t pin. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it because suddenly they overheard the principal speak.

“..and next up, is our final dual valedictorian, Gojo Satoru!”

He bent down to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Wish me luck.” he flashed her one more bedazzling smile before bounding up the steps. If the cheers had been loud for when she’d stepped up to the podium, it sounded a dozen times louder now. Quite the little nepobaby celebrity he was.

She turned around, watching his tall frame tower over the podium as he adjusted the mic before taking the mic off the stand completely and walking around the stage as he spoke. She didn’t need to focus on his words to know he was galvanizing the crowd. He faced different sides of the crowd as he spoke, dividing his attention to make everyone feel addressed. She wondered if he’d studied that or if it was just another thing that came naturally to him.

She pried her eyes off of him to glance down at her wristwatch. She cleared her throat before walking towards the Vice Principal.

“Your speech was very inspiring, Ara. Congratulations once again.”

“Thank you.” Ara smiled half-heartedly, “I’m just gonna use the bathroom.”

“Of course.”

Ara weaved through a few people before walking towards the outdoor bathroom. She glanced around, making sure there were no people in the stalls before locking the bathroom door. She walked into the last stall to pull out a hidden duffel bag behind the door. She stuffed her diploma in the bag before taking off her graduation cap and gown and lastly, her grad dress to reveal another outfit underneath. She switched out of her heels to sneakers.

She exited the stall to roll up her graduation clothes in a bundle and stuff them into the trash. She opened the duffel bag on the counter to pull out a wig. She hastily put it on, before adjusting it to make sure it sat naturally on her head. She gave herself one last look over before pulling out her cell phone and tossing it into the sink. She turned the sink on, letting her phone drown in the rising sink water.

She turned the sink off before hoisting the duffel bag over her shoulder and heading out. She walked towards the entrance of the school, glancing around until she spotted the taxi cab waiting upfront-just as planned.

She opened the car door, “Hi, thank you for waiting.”

The driver nodded, “Of course, ma’am. Heading to the airport?”

“Yes.” she confirmed before sitting comfortably in the back. She withdrew her second phone from the duffel bag, as well as her new ID, her new passport, her new social security card. Everything.

In truth, she’d purchased several fake identities from the black market. After a lot of sleuthing she’d managed to access the black market online. She only accessed it from public computers so it wouldn’t get traced back to her. She’d used these fake identities to sell more than half of the gifts Satoru had given her on different websites. She hadn’t sold some of the flashier items he’d gifted her due to knowing it might garner too much attention and the last thing she wanted was to get caught.

She then created several bank accounts with these fake identities and transferred the hefty sum of her sales to her main fake identity’s account. The one she’d be using from this day forward.

She also used these fake identities to book multiple flights–multiple flights as in 100+. She knew it was inevitable that he would be able to find some of her fake identities but to trace 100+ flights, some of which she had sold the flight tickets to people online? That would be a feat.

But it didn’t matter because she didn’t book the actual flight she was planning on taking with the identities she’d used before. She’d booked it from her main new identity. Sade West. Sade was just an adopted girl who’d lived all her life in Southern California and had just graduated from a regular, public high school. Sade was taking an early flight to the town she planned on going to college in. Everything was already submitted and set for her to attend this college for the upcoming Fall semester. All the cards were already aligned.

The taxi came to a stop in front of the bustling airport. Ara gave the taxi driver an excessive tip in cash before stepping out with her duffel bag. She walked inside the airport and went straight to the bathroom. She entered one of the stalls and changed again. New wig, new shoes, new shirt, new jeans. Everything. She even removed a mini duffel bag from the larger one. The mini duffel bag carried everything she truly needed.

She stepped out of the stall and disposed of the larger duffel bag. She saw a woman eye her astonishedly-Ara supposed she couldn’t blame her. The duffel bag she had just dumped was Burberry, worth more than $2K. It wasn’t her fault that everything she owned was designer.

She almost hoped the woman would steal it after she left, less things for her to be traced by.

Ara looked in the mirror, smoothing down her wig and touching up her makeup. Sade West looked awfully pretty–the kind of pretty that would make a girl immediately wish they were her upon one glance. She’d picked this look on purpose, something stylish and feminine–a completely different aura from what her comfort driven soul would naturally gravitate towards but she liked it. She wanted something different and enticing. She wanted to channel anything and everything that wasn’t herself.

“You’re beautiful.” the woman who’d been eyeing her bag earlier complimented.

“Thank you.”

Ara would’ve been more flattered if her mind wasn’t running a million miles per hour at the second. Satoru’s speech must’ve been done by now. Her fellow classmates must’ve all thrown their caps in the air and she’d missed it. Missed it all. Satoru might’ve even found her phone in the bathroom by now. She’d only thrown it in the sink to momentarily disable it. The phone itself was still on so he’d be able to see that it was in the bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to use it for a while though–Iphones aren’t known for their great water resistance for a reason. The iphone might’ve even died. She couldn’t be sure. Regardless, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be able to find anything on it anyway.

Her second phone had all her information. The phone she’d bought and kept on her or hidden at all times so she knew he couldn’t tamper with it. It was a weird feeling, using all the things he’d provided her with to get what she wants.

Karma. Is all she could think of it as.

Suddenly a voice spoke through the airport’s intercom system, “Flight Number XXXX to NYC has arrived, passengers please line up at Gate 24 for boarding.”

Ara straightened, staring at her own eyes in the mirror. There was no turning back now. She wasn’t even sure if she’d ever be back in California after this–if everything went according to plan, she probably wouldn’t. California wasn’t her home anymore and if she was honest with herself.. It never was.

Ara glanced down at her hand, at the promise ring on her finger. This promise ring was Ara’s–not Sade’s. Ara had a lot of sadness in her heart, not Sade. Ara was a girl without wings, not Sade. Ara was a deadweight.

Sade didn’t need Ara anymore.

She took off the promise ring.

Four years later

She had just picked up another oil pastel when her wristwatch started to beep. She jolted, dropping the crayon on the floor.

“Fuck.” she muttered.

She stepped off of her stool and picked it up, carefully setting the oil pastel back on the tray. The spotless light wash wood floor now had a smudge of red on it. She quickly grabbed a paper towel and poured some water on it before attempting to scrub the stain off the floor. The little red smudge was now a noticeable stain. With each rub she seemed to be making it worse.

She stopped, staring down at the now light red and bigger stain on the floor with a frown.

“What is it?”

She was immediately drawn from her thoughts at the familiar voice. She stood up.

“Mr. Heim.” she answered in surprise. She tossed the wet paper towel onto the counter nearby and instinctively reached to run her hand through her hair only to see the oil pastel markings on her hands and decided against it. Her hands hung idly at her sides as he slowly approached.

Reese Heim was one of her favorite artists in the flesh. He mainly used acrylics but something about his art always evoked some sort of buried emotions in her. He used dark colors as much as he used light colors–always in some sort of balance that turned out unequivocally perfect. It was always so satisfying, she could stare at his art for days. (a/n: i’d like to imagine his artwork similar to the artist Khaled Alkhani’s work, feel free to look him up)

He was tall and in his late twenties. He had wavy, dark brown hair that ended just above his shoulders. His haircut kind of reminded her of Flynn Rider from tangled. Besides that, he dressed like a tech company CEO. Always wearing semi-fitted black long sleeves or the like.

Reese glanced down at the stain, “Oh, don't worry about that.” His words held a tinge of his Italian accent. He’d been raised in Italy until the age of 18. It’d been 11 years since then.

“The cleaning crew will take care of it.” he added, before his gray eyes flitted to her canvas on the easel. She’d just started it today so it was barely done, maybe just a quarter finished.

He circled around her work station before stopping in front of her canvas. Her breath stopped as he silently assessed it.

She didn’t know him well. He didn’t speak much so when they spoke it was mainly her talking–which never ended well cuz she wasn’t much of a talker herself. She only began working with him recently as well, and it wouldn’t have happened if her favorite curator hadn’t been involved.

She’d made many connections due to her artwork in college but meeting Lynelle Ivo was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Lynelle fell in love with her work-which was a rare, rare thing because Lynelle was one of the most renowned art curators in the world. Lynelle felt so connected with her artwork that she basically became her art assistant, manager and publicist, all rolled in one. It became a requirement for Lynelle to showcase Sade’s art in all of her exhibitions. She even requested Sade to make custom pieces to fit the theme of the exhibitions if none of her previous artwork fit the genre.

It’d been a hurdle to balance it all–to manage consistently making art whilst working on school but all of it was worth it when Lynelle agreed to her wish. Lynelle agreed to let her artwork be made anonymously. It was something Sade had wanted for a while since her artwork was slowly gaining traction and the thought of being well-known scared her more than anyone knew.

Lynelle had told her the interest in her artwork might die down if she decides to release art anonymously because it’s usually the artist that helps drive their artwork to more publicity. Sade had been aware of this and still agreed.

And yet-opposite to what they’d all been expecting-after going anonymous her art seemed to go viral. Lynelle explained that it seemed the mystery of not knowing who the art was being made by added more to her work’s lore. Well, to be fair it wasn’t just the anonymity that made her artwork famous–it was one piece in particular and of course if one piece gets famous, usually interest build’s for the other artist’s works and for them to be anonymous… it all just blew up from there–in social media terms.

Sade herself still very much stayed off of social media so it was mainly her publicist/social media manager, Kory, taking care of that for her. Kory managed her website. While her manager, Dean, took care of her schedule and art sales. Dean was annoyingly repetitive about her deadlines–she knew it was for her benefit but she hated constantly being reminded. Despite it all she loved her team, Lynelle really knew exactly what kind of people she needed by her side.

She wouldn’t have needed a team if Chroma’s Atelier Interactive paint Company hadn’t reached out to her fresh out of college-two months after she’d gone anonymous. The paint company seemed to find out that she used their paint and reached out to contract a sponsorship deal with her for a total of three years, with the potential of extending it. When the money first started to pour in from her sponsorship, she’d nearly cried.

But out of everything she’d experienced in this upward trend, it was capturing Reese Heim’s attention that shocked her to the core. Apparently he’d been invited to one of Lynelle’s exhibitions in Italy and he’d seen one of her art pieces. Apparently he’d stared at it for about half an hour before asking all the staff nearest to get him in contact with someone who could reach out to the artist-nearly making a scene while doing so. He finally was able to get in contact with Lynelle.

Lynelle doesn’t entirely have the best opinion of him as a person but even she agrees his art is something to look at. She’d requested him for his artwork in some of her exhibitions before but it was always a gamble because sometimes he would decline. Apparently he is very picky about where his art is showcased. She supposed he was at the level to be picky since none of his artwork is worth less than 15K.

But anyway, as Lynelle put it–it was the first time she’d seen him ‘off his high horse’ when he asked if she could reach out to the artist to offer them an art studio in his company.

At first, Sade had been elated–even elated didn’t fully describe how happy she’d been with the offer but then she asked Lynelle what exactly would that position entail? Lynelle had explained that Reese had his own art company where he helped young artists have a space to create more artwork and he himself would sometimes assist these artists and showcase them in his New York City gallery.

But that was only if he really liked your art. If your art wasn’t on par with his standards he would have his team redirect you to place your artwork in another gallery of his recommendation. For some up and coming artists he would set them up with a team if he really liked them–but since she already had her own that wasn’t exactly an issue.

Usually his art space had a limit of six months for fresh artists to use his offered art studios—he had the limitation set so that other artists could get a chance but as far as she was aware, she did not have any set time limit. His only request was that whatever artwork she produced in his company’s studio be showcased in his gallery. Which meant fresh pieces.

It was a challenge that she wasn’t taking lightly.

“Oil pastels,” he noted, “Chroma’s not gonna be happy.”

She shifted slightly, “They already know I’m interested in trying new mediums.”

He turned around, revealing a faint smile on his lips. “Do they?”

He eyed the assortment of oil pastels that were laid out on her work table.

“What brought this on?”

“I.. I was inspired by Frederic Paul.” she admitted. (a/n: a real artist btw, feel free to check his works out. they're so pretty)

His left brow quirked up as he contemplated that, “I thought he used oil paints.”

“He does but I wanted more texture.”

He nodded, murmuring, “Oil pastels will do just that.”

His gray eyes flitted to hers, “So you plan on using lighter colors in this piece?”

It was a valid question-even if it threw her off slightly. It was true, she naturally gravitated towards darker colors in her work. In fact, Lynelle said a reason why she felt so attracted to her artwork was because there seemed to be this theme of entrapment. It created a sense of mystery that she supposedly couldn’t look away from.

“I’m not sure.” she answered.

“Do you have an outline?”

She shook her head, “Not a physical one.”

She added after a beat, “Do you suggest I make one?”

“No, no.” he shook his head, “That’s fine. Do what you deem best.”

Her wristwatch began to beep again. She quickly turned it off.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he inquired as she began to take her off her apron.

“Yeah, I have my aerial silks yoga class.”

He watched her shuffle things into her tote bag, “Do you go everyday?”

“Yeah, I mean-no, I go Monday through Thursday.”

He quickly glanced away when he caught himself staring at her in her black Athleta body suit. It covered most of her skin down to her ankles-except for her toned arms-but it was rather fitted. She bent down to re-tie the laces of her adidas sambas and pulled up her white socks slightly higher. She slipped into a black trench coat and flipped her long, neat braid out from the coat’s collar before grabbing her tote bag.

She hung the lightweight bag over her shoulder, “I’m free to go right?”

The corner of his lip twitched, “Yes.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

Just as she passed by him, he suddenly spoke, “Wait.”

She stopped, glancing over to see him standing with his arms crossed. The subtle outline of his shapely biceps could be seen from his stance.

“Friday. We’re having a company dinner, Alyssa insisted on it so.. come if you can.”

Alyssa was his assistant.

She hesitated, “I’ll try.”

“Good.”

They stood in silence for a moment before he faced her.

She took a step back, “Um, See you then.”

She didn’t wait for a response when she headed out of the studio. She shook her head slightly, attempting to shake off the inexplicable tension she felt whenever she was with him.

She was walking down the stairs when she caught Alyssa walking up them.

Alyssa shot her a warm smile, “Have a good day, Sade.”

“Thanks, you too-oh!” she belatedly remembered, “Where’s the dinner at by the way? The company dinner on Friday?”

Alyssa blinked, “On Friday?”

“Yeah, Mr. Heim said it was on Friday.”

Alyssa raised her hands, “Wow, looks like he finally picked a date! I was thinking for it to be at this Mediterranean restaurant called Meduza but we’ll send out a group text, don’t worry.”

Sade nodded slowly, lost in thought for a moment.

Alyssa smiled once more before patting her on the shoulder, “Have a good one.” Before clip-clopping up the steps.

Sade walked down the steps, suddenly remembering herself–she didn’t want to be late. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Alyssa’s words. If Mr.Heim hadn’t picked a day for the company dinner earlier but suddenly picked Friday after hearing that she didn’t have classes on Friday… am I being delusional? Her apartment mate would know.

Just as she pulled out her phone from her pocket, her apartment mate called.

Sade quickly answered the phone, walking as she talked, “Dude, I was just about to call you–”

“Really? Guess what, guess what, guess what.”

“What?”

“So I was walking back to our apartment with all my groceries in my hands, because I forgot to bring the cart–and I only went out to get one thing but whatever. Anyway, it started to fucking pour outside and of course, I don’t have my umbrella so I start fast walking until this fucking asshole rams into me and I literally end up dropping all my shit on the sidewalk in front our building.”

“Oh god.”

“But out of fucking no where, like an angel dropped from the sky this guy comes up to me and he starts helping me pick up all my stuff. He literally gives me his umbrella and puts up his hood and just starts handing me all my stuff–even bagging it all up with me. But yo, when I tell you this man was the most handsomest man I’ve ever seen in my life-like-no joke. He was fine.”

Sade laughs slightly, “Damn.”

“Tall as shit too. Anyway, he was so fine that when he offered to help me bring all my stuff up to my apartment I didn’t decline cuz-”

“You let him into our apartment?”

“I needed the help! My arms were too sore man but wait, just wait-listen. So yeah, he helps bring all my groceries inside and I offer him some water as thanks. We’re talking a bit. He’s actually so funny and nice. He’s so handsome, bro, I honestly thought he was a model but apparently he isn’t, I asked. Even though his outfit was casual, something about him gave old money. Anyway, while we’re talking he sees our group pic on the fridge and points you out. He said he knows you. He said you guys knew each other in High School.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and he was so shook about it too. He kept calling you another name but he said he had to see you. I didn’t want him to wait at the apartment because I wasn’t sure when you’d be back and I didn’t want him to be here for that long either so I told him where you worked. He literally dipped so quickly–”

Sade had just opened up her umbrella and stepped outside of the building, only to freeze, “Wait, you told him where I worked?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want you to feel ambushed when you got home so-”

“What’s wrong with you? Why would you tell a complete stranger where I worked?”

“I-I’m sorry, he just seemed so excited to see you. He had this selfie of you guys together from high school and it looked so adorable–you looked so young. I don’t know. I thought you would be happy.. he said he’s been looking for you for so long.”

Her throat went dry. “What’s his name.”

She could tell her apartment mate, Priya, was thrown off by her seriousness, “I don’t remember.”

“How did he look like?”

“He was tall–like tall tall. White hair-but he looked around our age-and he has the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen on this planet…”

Sade had zoned out, her breathing had grown labored and suddenly everything felt like it was spinning around her but she couldn’t move, her feet were planted to the ground and yet she knew… she knew the sixth sense that was nagging at her. She would know that feeling anywhere.

no no no no no no

The sense of doom that sprawled through her nerves was decapitating. She felt like her entire body had gone numb. This had to be a bad nightmare. Just a bad dream she was on the verge of waking up from in a few seconds.

Wake up wake up wake up wake up!

As much as everything in her didn’t want to, her eyes were searching for her. She turned, looking every which way to find the source of the sensation—the source of that feeling in her gut that she hadn’t felt in so long.

Her hair rose on her skin. She found it. Him.

Gojo Satoru stood right across the street from her. His hands in his long coat pockets. A hood covering his head–and as if he wanted to make it any clearer that it was him, he pulled the hood down to reveal the entirety of his ruffled white hair. The wide grin on his lips was unmistakable.

She stopped breathing.

Goosebumps rose along her skin and the bustling city sounds became nothing but background noise.

Suddenly the light turned green and cars began to zoom in between them.

The spell of his imposing stare broke and she gasped–her hand coming to her chest. She thought she was gonna puke but all that consumed her mind was his eyes. Those radiant blue eyes that were surrounded by enviable lengthy white lashes–the eyes that haunted her nightmares from time to time and the eyes that had seen too much of her.

She was running. She didn’t know when she started running but she was. She was running so fast without a single destination in mind. All she knew was that she had to run.

She thought she heard his laugh in the distance but it could’ve been her hallucinating. She just hoped all of this was a hallucination. She prayed it was.

But the sound of her feet hitting the asphalt was too real. The thump of her heartbeat pumping in her chest was too real. The fear feeding into her adrenaline was too real.

She ran across the street just as a car was about to turn, nearly colliding with her.

“Ara!!”

No!

She barely registered passerbys glancing her way as she ran. Had she really heard him calling out her name?

No no no no no no–

Suddenly she felt something catapult into her so hard she nearly hit the floor face first until hands slipped around her waist.

She shoved whoever caught her. No! No, I can’t stop now. I can’t–

“Ara.”

She attempted to run away but her legs were too weak. The force of the shove sent any adrenaline she had out the window. The speed of her actions catching up to her.

She stumbled blindly away from the voice, leading herself into a dark alley.

She was out of breath. The rainwater was making it hard to see. She didn’t remember when she’d dropped her umbrella.

“Ara.”

She was coughing up a storm. Her hand went to the brick wall beside her before she dropped to her knees, heaving as she attempted to catch her breath.

Suddenly she felt a hand catch her chin and push her small body against the alley wall.

She was forced to stare up into those blazing turquoise eyes. The eyes that dominated her nightmares, the eyes that subjugated her body and soul.

Rainwater dripped from strands of his shiny hair and slid down his poreless face. His face had gotten more defined, more sharp–his sculpted jawline more prominent than ever. The shadows under his eyes were just as visible, somehow emphasizing the piercing blue brilliance of his eyes. His lips were glossy, just like they had always been.

It didn’t hit her until the scent of his familiar cologne filled her nostrils. That deep, heedy, expensive scent that she’d be forced to inhale whenever his body moved too harshly inside her, making her hide her face in his neck.

Her eyes brimmed with tears.

His fingers tightened around her chin, “Found you.”

“No.” she choked out, attempting to shake her head but she couldn’t. His fingers around her chin were too firm.

She tried to move from her seated position against the wall but she couldn’t. Her legs felt too weak. Her limbs ached from the excessive strength she’d used earlier.

More tears poured out from her eyes, “No.” she rasped.

“You cryin’?” He asked softly, despite the obvious taunt, “You cryin’ cuz you missed me?”

He slowly looked her up and down, with all the patience in the world. As if taking her in piece by piece before letting his eyes roam her countenance once-more.

He sighed, “Still such a pretty fuckin’ crier, s’not fair.”

“Stop,” she cried, reaching out to push at his chest since he sat hunched over her on one leg. “Stop.”

He didn’t budge. Instead his free hand caught her wrist and his hand on her chin moved to catch one of her tears with his thumb.

“I missed this.” His voice was so low. “I missed this so much.”

She was full on sobbing now.

He leaned towards her, nearly touching his forehead against hers. The air thinned out between them, maybe because she was breathing so fast-consuming so much—inhaling and exhaling all of it-that charged air between their limited proximity. It was magnetic, just as it was intoxicating. It was like breathing in something you knew you shouldn’t, something that made your mouth water but you both knew was poison. You knew each breath would numb your nerves. You knew each breath could kill you. You knew your next breath could be your last.

“I missed you.”

“No you don’t.” she cried, shaking her head as she attempted to stand up. “You don’t!”

“I do.”

He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back down but this time he made her lean against him. Her head landed against his chest, her small frame in the circle of his larger one.

“No-!” She attempted to scramble up but he caught her by her waist length plait and yanked her back. Before she could cry out he withdrew a handkerchief from the inside of his coat and cupped it over her mouth.

Her eyes widened and she thrashed in his arms for a good second before finally going limp. Her eyes fluttering closed.

He removed the handkerchief from her lips before turning it over to the untainted side and wiping all the raindrops and tears from her pretty face.

He kissed her forehead before whispering against her skin, “I found you.”

a/n: u guys, i know this entire chapter 5 has been such a journey from start to finish but u r fr an OG for making it all the way through. In total-with these four parts combined-chapter 5 is 205 pages of manuscript. Can you believe that?? Anyway, wow. Writing this chapter has been choatic but I'm so happy that I can finally share what's been sitting in my head with you guys. U guys have no idea how I felt writing the last bit of this chapter, I felt like I wanted to cover my eyes while I typing it but pls feel free to share your thoughts, questions and opinions in the comments below. I'm so curious to read them all. Once again ty for reading my work!!

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