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MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
AISHITERU

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist
Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.
Words count: ~13.1k
⊲ previous

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant
or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;
it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. < ...>
Bible. St. Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians 1:13.

The sky was covered with terry, leaden clouds. They loomed over your head - you could see them trying to crush you through the glass walls of the greenhouse. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, and then there was a rumble of thunder as the wind, carrying the freshness of the approaching downpour, blew the door open.
You stood frozen with the pruning shears in your hand, staring shamelessly into the distance as the lightning danced amongst themselves, oblivious to the fact that it was coming at Hopetown. You were jolted awake when thunder roared like a wild beast over the greenhouse, the first raindrops slowly drumming against the roof in warning.
It was always like that. It didn't make any difference whether it was the sweltering heat, the scorching sun, or the cold rain choking the neighborhood, but once a year, on this very day, you always stood in that greenhouse and cut flowers for the bouquet for Shaya's grave.
Frank loved his plants. Whether it was the vegetable garden or the greenhouse, he always did it himself, but this was the day you had to take care of your father. It was as if he was separated from the world - he didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't talk much, and as soon as you handed him the flowers, Frank would put on a suit and spend the rest of the time until midnight at his wife's grave, talking to her about something - you never dared get close enough to hear what it was.
You've been watching him from afar the whole time. He probably felt an immense amount of regret - if he hadn't chosen this job, Shaya would probably still be alive, but it also cut off the possibility of their first meeting.
After all, she just loved flowers - that's probably why Frank became just preoccupied with vegetation after her death, and you were standing here now, cutting the prettiest flowers for his date.
As you reached for a lily stem to cut it, you heard footsteps over the sound of the pouring rain, and you looked back to see Nathaniel coming into the greenhouse, drenched to the skin. You nodded softly in greeting - he nodded back, and you couldn't help but notice the brief but questioning look he gave you as he looked at the basket of flowers at your feet. "Uh... Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked uncertainly, stepping closer and examining the flowers. It looked like he was too uncomfortable with the idleness, even though you had pulled him out of the void only a week ago - Doc had tried his best, but the huge burn marks were still seeping through the new skin, affecting his shoulder, part of his face, and Nathaniel's scalp - he'd even had to shave his head to keep from looking too weird.
"Ya should get more rest," you cut off softly.
"I'm ready to climb the wall from this kind of rest," he grinned bitterly, taking a seat on a small stool that stood nearby in case of a brief respite.
"Just a little longer," you sighed understandingly, and turned to him, crossing your arms over your chest, stroking the blunt side of the pruning shears with your thumb. "We'll get ya fully healed first, and then Doc..."
"That's what I came to talk about," he interrupted you carefully, and you raised your eyebrows questioningly, waiting for him to continue. "I'd like to stay here. I don't mean Hopetown," he blurted quickly. "I mean among the hunters. I'd like to do that, too."
You watched the man's figure literally shrink under your appraising gaze as you slowly examined him from head to toe, then looked him straight in the eye. On the one hand, you understood his impulse - he was looking for justice, if not revenge, after all the torment he'd suffered in the void, but on the other hand, he was too slim and frail. It wasn't malnutrition or dehydration at all - he was just naturally that way, no matter how much he ate. "As ya wish," he exhaled in relief, though he didn't hear the approval in your voice. "Ya won't become a voidrunner, though. Ya'll have to find other ways," he nodded understandingly and directed a confused look to the floor. He knew he looked weak, but he hoped the fire in his eyes was enough to convince you.
You turned away from Nathaniel and began cutting the leaves off the stems of the flowers that were destined to lie on the grave next to the beloved's name. In the looming darkness, the man had goosebumps running down his spine every time a flash of lightning clearly and sharply illuminated the profile of your features - your movements were deft but fluid, and he remembered and felt who you really were. Before his eyes was still your blackened face that he saw in the void.
"So...," he began uncertainly, interlacing his fingers awkwardly. "Do you have a celebration coming up? So many flowers..."
You were beginning to get the impression that he'd been a true blue-blood aristocrat in his previous life before the void - even in this vulnerable position, he made an effort to make small talk. But there was something else behind his mannerisms - at his back you caught a curious glance, as if he was trying to make sure what he saw in the void was true. "The anniversary of Frank's wife's death," you replied calmly.
As prepared as you were for that reaction, Nathaniel was stunned just as much. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the right words, but no words came to him at all. "So that's why I've never seen her...," he muttered, his eyes lowering in embarrassment - he had no one to hide from, your back was turned to him, but the eyes of conscience were right there.
"Oh, come on," you waved it away. "That mournful tone doesn't suit ya."
You admired the beautiful lily for a moment, and with a quiet clang you cut off its stem, but you did not hurry to put it in the basket - you turned it slowly in your hands, stroking the delicate petals with your fingers, and then grinned bitterly. "It's kinda funny," you said quietly. "All the flowers in this greenhouse are destined for the same fate one way or another - to lie near the grave. Frank even spent a few years for selection - Shaya loved the white flowers. And now, every time I come in here...," you looked around in amazement, as if you were here for the first time, amidst the sweet and fresh scent that the flowers gave off. "It feels like I'm in paradise," now the man looked around with you - it was as if you were in the middle of an endless field that glowed with the art of nature. "What ya think?" you asked in a low voice, not turning to look at him, but feeling the emptiness of his gaze - Nathaniel, lost in his thoughts, lost in the winds of fate, could only manage to say one word.
"Yeah...," he barely audibly exhaled, and your face darkened.
Right above your heads, the thunder roared so loudly that the glass greenhouse shook. You could almost feel the downpour slamming into your face with renewed force. "Go inside quickly," you said sharply, and the man involuntarily shivered. Nodding goodbye, he wrapped his arms around himself and walked out the door. You turned around, seeing his silhouette disappearing behind the wall of rain with a cold, determined look, and then threw a delicate, defenseless lily of light pink color into the basket.

Nathaniel had never considered himself cruel or ferocious, much less inhuman - having lived among humans for thousands of years, he had once stopped feeling like a monster altogether.
No living creature on this planet could understand him - none of them knew what it was like to wander the fringes of the universe, lost in the stellar winds, not even knowing where home was or if it had ever been. He had come to Earth by accident - a once off course had literally dropped him here, forcing him to face a new life form, and by obeying the laws of nature, he had to adapt. As selfish as it was, Nathaniel - that's what it called itself - didn't want to return to the wastes of space and wander around, unaware of himself and his soul for another few billion years. So he decided to stay here, in the place where there was life.
At first, Nathaniel didn't realize what was happening to him - he wasn't aware that his nature had split into a thousand pieces when he first encountered the human. He'd been too stunned - that was when he'd first learned what it felt like to be 'breathtaking'; when there was a strange feeling somewhere deep in his face - sometimes it made him cringe in disgust and sometimes it fascinated him, so much so that his stomach rumbled, and all these strange surfaces that surrounded him were completely different under his palm: rough, smooth, warm, soft, even sharp - when he first saw blood on his hand after a brief, painful sensation, he was scared out of his wits. The novelty of it had so overwhelmed him that he hadn't felt the weakness of his own disintegration - he was learning to live as a man, and he had not yet realized that he had already killed one, taking his body to become alike.
Nathaniel had been watching humans from afar for a long time - they seemed quaint to him as they slammed hard things against each other, tried to get orange hot waves, and they were cruel in his eyes as they killed creatures that didn't look like them and then ate them. He had long hesitated to come out of the shadows and lived like a hermit, studying all human habits before coming out into the light. He spent a long time eavesdropping, studying and analyzing the speech that changed from century to century, and its peculiarities depended on the place where he was.
There were only three tragic days in Nathaniel's life, the memories of which he carried with him forever.
Of course, he knew at once that something was wrong. The terrible hunger that he sometimes felt could not be satisfied by any berry or meat and blood of an animal - he suffered for a long time, trying to find the cause and put an end to it, but one day, the first and darkest day of his human life happened when he woke up and the first thing he saw was blood on his hands, and beside him lay the fresh remains of a man. The bones were still wet with drool and blood, and Nathaniel howled loudly as he tried to put the human back together, not yet realizing that it was impossible to do so.
No matter how much he tried to distance himself from human souls, he still found himself near them sooner or later. When he was alone, his heart was so empty that even this existence was a burden. He settled on the edge of a village - he never let anyone into his house, never spoke to anyone, and rumors spread through the village that a dark shaman had taken up residence in the outermost house.
Sometimes there were knocks on his door, voices begging for help - to make it rain in a drought or to heal a loved one - and sometimes Nathaniel gave in. He would open the door and take some human blood in payment - mysterious rumors spread through the village that it was all for a ritual. Miracles worked: people frolicked in the rain with their suddenly recovered loved ones, and Nathaniel looked sadly through the curtain at the window, wishing he were among them, carefree and happy.
Being a prisoner on this Earth, in this house, he had nothing to do but watch. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of the enchanted glow of the light-blond hair, and then he leaned closely against the window, and when that light dissolved around the corner, he jumped away in fear, clutching his chest not understanding why the organ pumping blood was behaving so strangely - then he thought for the first time that this must be how people die.
Once he'd seen the glint of that hair right in his doorway - he'd looked down at that girl with one eye while the rest of his face was hidden in darkness. He didn't show it in any way, but he was terrified of feeling like he was softly melting from the inside. The girl was trembling, clutching something in her outstretched palms - looking her over from head to toe, Nathaniel's heart sank again when he saw that the girl was covered in tiny scratches. Gritting his teeth, he opened the door wider, silently inviting her in.
It turned out that she had brought a baby bird - it was barely moving, even refusing to drink. Sighing, Nathaniel sat down beside the girl, and she gently handed him the bird - the man shuddered when their hands almost touched. He was amazed - despite her own condition, the girl was worried not for herself, but for the poor little creature, and those emotions were new to Nathaniel, and he wanted to know more about the human world.
He grinned sadly, seeing the fear that flashed across the girl's face when she saw the dark streaks that spread across his fingers, but the terror and fear were not meant to last; she brightened when he opened his hands. In them sat, chirping merrily, a bird filled with life. It hopped lightly and flew out through the ajar window, but to Nathaniel's surprise and new feeling, the girl stayed.
He had a friend for the first time. Nathaniel was still wary of her, but the girl continued to visit him every day, ignoring the whispers in the village that the wicked wizard was in the midst of a black love affair, some even daring to say aloud that he was making a sacrifice to his God.
More and more often she brought him gifts - raspberry jam, fruit, gingerbread, freshly baked raisin buns - and he ate each one gratefully, sharing everything equally with her. She lured Nathaniel out of his house for the first time and showed him her world - how the thick fog cleared in the morning over the vast field, how delicious the dew was that the rain left behind at rowan dawn, and how the fireflies that looked so much like stars chirped at night.
Sometimes the girl looked at Nathaniel intently and tenderly, and he, not knowing what to do, began to think he was dying again. But every love had its fate - it came upon them abruptly, and the sudden pain made tears flow from Nathaniel's eyes. The first time she tried to touch him and kiss him, the girl's soul died - Nathaniel watched helplessly as her eyes, still alive but black, stared back at him. He'd lost his friend, but he'd gained new strength - with that death he felt something inside him, as if a link had been added to a tiny chain.
What was left of that girl began to follow Nathaniel, obeying his every command. There were no eyes of conscience for sorrow, no voice of reason for grief - one day, the whole village was turned into demons by Nathaniel's hands, saturating him with power.
He still did not consider himself cruel - he did everything for survival. But as the lands drowned in blood not from wars but from the ravenous hunger of his dark, black particles, he came to his senses, realizing his deeds - dioreacts had become too many. They were like separated individual human emotions, and he could no longer control those in whom only thirst and desire to absorb and subjugate were concentrated. He created a world for these demons that was so similar to the human one, but Nathaniel could not fully replicate the fine-tuning of the universe for Earth, no matter how hard he tried, but he hoped they could find a home there.
Nathaniel used to stay close to the hunters, even helping them when the demons were out of control, but he also kept the hunters out of the way and covered demons' tracks so they couldn't eliminate all parts of him - he didn't want to lose his powers. Once he had caught and brought the world into the finest balance, he stepped aside, hiding among the shadows so that people would forget his face.
The third tragic day came when humans entered his created world a few years ago.
Still sitting in the dark corner, Nathaniel suspected that sooner or later humans would get there - if not on their own, then the evolution he had watched for so long would deal with it. Seeing you in the void for the first time sent a thrill of awe and a sense of admiration through him - you weren't just a person, you were a part of him that Nathaniel had never had before. But as much as he wanted to keep you, he had to get rid of you as soon as possible - you were too much trouble and danger to his existence, and he had to throw off the veil of mystery he once had and go out into the human world again.
Nathaniel was never a monster, he just wanted to live, too.
Nathaniel stood a few feet away from you and watched silently as the cold, soft snow fell from the sky onto your back - he was leaning against a tree, breathing hard and clutching at his heart. The moment you collapsed face-first into the snow, he felt like his soul had been ripped out by the root. Every time the hunters broke his chain, destroying the links, his mouth would bleed, his insides would burn, his mind would melt. You were no longer moving, the hilt of his blade still sticking out of your back, and under your motionless body the blood trickled out in thin streams, pooling and spreading into a great scarlet stain on the snow-covered grass - it was like a ritual where he had torn off the link himself.
Nathaniel had convinced himself for years that he should have felt relief on this very day, but it never came. Even though you were defeated, his soul throbbed silently, warningly, at the thought that you were still lying here on this earth, even though your body was destined to turn to dust.
'Check her.'
With his silent call, the shadows obeyed the order. They didn't even have human form - two black smokes slipped out from behind the trees and crawled across the ground, coming toward you. They circled over you, crawled under your body, wrapped themselves around your neck and wrists.
'Not feeling...'
A timid, obedient voice echoed in Nathaniel's head as he watched you cautiously, carefully. The shadows explored you from head to toe, there wasn't an inch of your body they didn't touch - one of them wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and plunged it deeper into your heart, but you didn't even whimper.
'Not feeling...'
Another shadow echoed the first. Nathaniel's exhalation was full of relief, but something kept him from rejoicing. He waved his hand irritably and the shadows hid behind the trees in fear, fuming blackly and peering out naughtily. He would have vanished into the night right now, veiling himself again, waiting for the fourth tragic day, but he stood there, disturbing the brittle snow beneath his feet - he needed to make sure that you were dead.
The sound of his footsteps was barely audible - he was standing over your body, glaring at you, but even there, deep inside him, where there was no room for a human soul, he could no longer find your presence. Wanting to see your death in the face, he clenched his teeth and kicked your shoulder with his foot - your supple, numb body rolled over, and at that moment an invisible arrow of retribution pierced his heart - he exhaled convulsively as he saw your black eyes glittering with the fading life and determination.
"Ya will follow me!" you spat out, grinning - a mad laugh escaped your lips, and you tried to lift your head, but weakness drove the back of your head back into the ground. You expended the rest of your strength, and Nathaniel's formerly clear features swam before your eyes, merging with the black sky. "Now and forever... ya... ya will follow...," you breathed heavily, shallowly, and your words were more like hoarse attempts to get air into your lungs, but the universe heard your command. Nathaniel watched helplessly as a faint, blue light flashed on your wrist – it flashed and disappeared.
Lifting your extinguished gaze, you gave your soul and body into the hands of peace. The crowns of the trees faded, the snow was no longer cold. You heard neither threats, nor pleas, nor attempts to negotiate, only the stars grew dimmer and dimmer, and you didn't care about the purpose with which fate had brought you to this world - smiling weakly, you thought only that your mother was wrong after all.
In warm winds and cold snows, in green leaves and yellow sands, in meek, gentle laughter, in shy looks, in missing embraces, in soothing touches, in the happy voice of a loved one, in mercy and understanding, in the ability to share pain and fear, in the ability to see life through another's eyes - the world will always be saved by love until the last human dies.

The snow, having stopped falling, left behind only a piercing cold.
Gojo couldn't blame Megumi when he returned two hours later. Searching and running in the cold, empty space had taken a lot of energy - after a quick snack, Megumi spoke quietly to Shoko about something, and she frowned and nodded as if giving him a go. The sorcerer sat beside them, but no matter how much he looked at them, no matter how much he listened, he couldn't make out a word - there was a thick, sticky fog in his head.
He was used to sitting on the porch waiting for you.
Twilight swam in his blue eyes as he watched aloofly as Megumi headed for the training field. Violet lightning flashed silently again, followed a moment later by a second flash. Gojo stirred, looking questioningly at the returning Fushiguro. "Nothing's changed," Megumi said quietly to Shoko, shaking his head, but the sorcerer could see the relief in the boy's eyes.
"Good," Ieiri nodded, taking a drag on her cigarette and looked at her watch, timing it. "Now go back to the void. Run for half an hour, if you don't find her, come back and we'll do it again," the doctor glanced at Fushiguro's fingertips, which were already beginning to darken. She didn't possess dark energy, but she knew that at this rate, the boy wouldn't last long - at some point in the next relocation, his body might not be able to take it. Nodding, Megumi jerked toward the training field again and disappeared in a bright flash.
"What's going on?" asked Gojo weakly, raising his head and looking at Shoko in bewilderment.
Ieiri averted her gaze, not knowing how to choose her words - right now he was too vulnerable and... weak. "I don't know if you remember or not, but when there's no one in the void, it changes. We've decided to check every half hour to see if it's turned over, and if it does, and we still don't see another flash, then..."
"Don't go on," he chuckled softly, burying his face in her palms - she wrinkled her nose sympathetically, hearing the hopelessness pouring through his laughter. He regretted asking Ieiri about it a hundred times over - now, in front of his eyes, you were not only alone, but you were also lying on the ground as the sand covered your motionless body. "Do you think... she will come back?"
A quiet sob almost escaped Shoko's lips, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, opened them, and sat down beside him - hesitating a little and dropping her eyes to the floor, she put a hand on his shoulder. "She has to," she whispered, and her voice nearly broke, almost giving out a bitter doubt. She glimpsed Gojo - he looked like a dead man. His white skin was pale, his ever-lively, cheerful eyes were hollow, and his chest barely heaved at all as he stared blankly before him, seeming not to hear her words.
Whether he'd been sitting there for a minute or hours, he couldn't count, but Ieiri had been sitting next to him the whole time. Occasionally the sorcerer would catch her talking, whether she was trying to distract him or herself, but she wasn't very good at it. Not because she was a bad storyteller, but because it was impossible to distract them both from the thoughts of his dashed hopes.
The night would not let up, only Megumi's returns illuminated the neighborhood with purple light. Gojo looked at him every time - even if Fushiguro wasn't carrying the news that he'd finally found you, he hoped every time he heard that nothing had changed in the void. Ieiri eyed Fushiguro's arm more and more anxiously - the lines had already crawled beneath his uniform, and hell knows how deep the dark energy had spread through his body. Hearing once again that the void remained the same, Gojo nodded gratefully, exhaling in relief and covering his eyes - he'd kept them closed for so long that he hadn't even noticed Megumi disappear again.
The flash was so bright this time that Ieiri glanced nervously at the spot where Fushiguro had teleported from. She furrowed her eyebrows suspiciously - the boy had already vanished, and the sky was still glowing purple. With a jerk of her head, she nearly gasped in exasperation and shoved Gojo sharply in the shoulder. "Satoru!" she shouted, trying to pull him out of the dark confinement of his thoughts and turning his head towards the forest - the sky there shone with purple flames much brighter. The sorcerer didn't even realize it, the thought didn't want to form, but he jumped up and ran.
Gojo ran and teleported, ran and teleported, and soon the temples were replaced by dark trees that hid him from the world. He looked around frantically, trying to remember and guess the exact position of the flash, trying to see anything in the dark forest. He slowed his pace and your name desperately flew from his lips - he shouted it, hoping for an answer, then whispered it painfully, never getting one. His eyes blurred when, in the distance, behind the tree trunks, he saw a dark spot that lay against the white snow, and on numb legs he rushed toward it, not remembering himself. The closer he got, the more tears covered his eyes - he sobbed pitifully, recognizing your motionless features, and the tip of a silver blade sticking out of your chest like a banner of defeat.
You must have been terribly cold. First you had spent so much time in the void, and now you were lying on the prickly snow - Gojo, kneeling before you, soiling himself on the bloody snow, pulled off his uniform jacket and first tried to gently lift your head, but you didn't make a wheeze of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut - tears immediately flowed from them - and wrapped his jacket around your back. He was still afraid to disturb you - swallowing his painful emotions, the sorcerer held you close to him and stroked your black hair frantically, afraid to even lift your body.
You looked nothing like yourself. He'd seen you as a demon before, but this time you were barely human. "Doc will fix it," he quietly assured you, crying. "I'll... I'll get you up, 'kay?" he asked, not expecting to get an answer.
Gojo held you as gently as he could against his chest, and as he got up, he only now noticed someone else's footprints in the snow - his tear-stained eyes became sharp, and he slowly looked around, hugging your fragile body tighter. Sensing no one, the sorcerer looked again at the tracks that were right up close to where you lay, but he couldn't see any others - the ones that had gone away from you. He whimpered pitifully, putting his trembling lips to the top of your head. What have you done?
Gojo turned around and headed for the college - he walked slowly at first, keeping his eyes on your face. He'd seen you like this before - motionless, breathless, with empty dark eyes, which meant you'd be fine again when you got better.
He didn't realize he'd gone into a run, holding your head against his chest.
The sorcerer almost didn't see the trees change to a clear stone road as he ran as fast as he could, afraid to even teleport. He could barely make out the familiar porch with Shoko still sitting on the steps - he tried not to look at her, he didn't need proof in other people's eyes that nothing could be fixed. He stormed in the college and ran to the infirmary while Ieiri trotted restlessly behind him. "Where's Doc?" he tossed quietly over his shoulder.
Shoko furrowed her eyebrows in hesitation. "He's asleep right now, but-"
"Then wake him!" bellowed Gojo loudly, turning sharply toward her.
At that moment, Shoko swallowed her words, staring at him stunned. At the sight of her frightened face, the sorcerer shook his head briefly, as if trying to ward off the despair that was coming. "Sorry," he mumbled, and without wasting any more time, he carried you to the nearest room. Ieiri watched the two of you for a few more seconds - the way his tall silhouette darkened, and the way your arm dangled limply in his grasp. Shoko couldn't blame him for being angry, she couldn't even blame him if he was about to tear the world to splinters. Turning around, she hurried after Doc.
Gojo pushed open the door to the room with his foot and whispered softly into your head as he walked to the bed, slowly lowering you onto it, his hands still on you. Lost in a peaceful slumber, you remained indifferent to his hot whispering and desperate touch - your black, lifeless eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, and he surrendered and gently wrapped his hand around yours and placed it against your forehead, lowering his eyes. He sobbed pathetically, laughing softly - your body wasn't getting any warmer.
Waiting for Doc, not daring to get up and leave the room, Gojo forced himself to look at you, his silent cry trying to wake you, kissing every pad of your fingers. While the sorcerer watched helplessly as your soul was lost ever more firmly among the stars, you took hold of his outstretched hand and stood up from your chair, looking at him uncertainly, grinning nervously. "When I stomp all over your feet, don't whine later that I didn't warn ya."
"How about this?" Gojo asked slyly, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into the air - the hem of your blue dress became the wings of a butterfly, and when you shrieked in surprise, he laughed and buried his face in your neck. He made one easy turn to the beat of the music, and already you were squirming unhappily, demanding him to put you down on the ground. Of course he obeyed, but there was nothing you could do about the fact that his arms remained around your waist, pressing you so close you could almost hear his tearing heartbeat. "One must always look one's partner in the eye," there was such tenderness lurking behind his strictness that you almost melted in the sunlight and the sparkle of his blue eyes as he gently cupped your cheek and lifted your face slightly, trying to see the life in your eyes. Amidst the songs of hope, the voice of farewell rang out in your head, and Gojo, clenching his teeth and howling barely audibly, slowly removed the mask from your face, fresh blood still oozing from your parched lips, dripping down to your neck.
The sorcerer looked at you again, gazing at the edge of the blade sticking out of your chest, hopelessly waiting for your sigh he wanted to hear. Feverishly, but carefully, he tried to wipe the blood from your face, as if that could help you to take a breath. "Boxy, is that ya...?" he laughed wetly, cupping your face - it was no longer your voice, it was a steely hoarseness that barely resembled a human voice, but to him it was a sign from above - you were still here.
"I'm here. I'm here, baby, I'm with you, I'm not going anywhere," if promises were any good, Gojo would have made a hundred more, but now all he could do was whisper helplessly, trying to get a one more word out of you. After a single question, you fell silent again, as if he'd made up your voice, and you'd been lying there the whole time, unmoving and silent, staring at the ceiling with empty black eyes.
Leaning over you, listening to what life you still had left in you, he haphazardly, incoherently began to cover your dry lips with light kisses, his tears mixing with your blood and running down your neck, staining the white pillowcases. He didn't care about the distant shouts in the hallway, blind to the purple flash outside the window that announced Fushiguro's return, for you were all that existed to him. Gojo couldn't suppress a silly smile as you failed to take his seemingly wise advice and kept looking around. You were attracting too much attention - the eyes of all the guests were on you, though it was the newlyweds who should have been the ones basking in the attention. He glanced at Megumi and Danielle, lost in each other, cooing quietly about something, who didn't mind the shadows of the quiet solitude.
"Kinda awkward...," you muttered quietly as the mage once again spun you around in a twist - you almost stepped on his foot.
He had a smug, sly grin on his face, and for the first time all evening, your attention was on him alone, making the white skin on his cheeks flush - maybe it was the scarlet sunset, but even the sun couldn't warm him the way you did. "I have a plan," he whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to you - the smugness dissipated in an instant, giving way to tenderness and sweet longing. When he stopped the dance, he cupped your chin, forcing you to look up at him, but you weren't there anymore.
The wounds on your body wouldn't heal, and the blade was still sticking out between your collarbones, reminding him of everything. One simple movement, and that point could be in his chest, too - he shook his head feverishly, trying to push the thought away. "I bought us a house," Gojo admitted desperately on a suppressed cry. "In the north, just like we wanted," he rested his forehead against yours, as if you could hear him better that way. "We'll even buy those ugly yellow curtains, just... just don't go," he tried to avoid the last words as best he could - he hadn't believed to the last that you could run away again, but now there was nothing left for him to do but beg you to stay. His once overflowing happiness was empty, and he watched your reaction with glassy eyes as you gave him a suspicious glare and nodded your head, ordering him to spill everything. With a soft, almost embarrassed grin, Gojo ran his palms over your shoulders, smoothing the sleeves of your blue dress. "Shall we run away?" never in his life would he regret his suggestion - your eyes shone brightly, as did your uncertain smile. The warm wind nudged you toward each other with its embrace, and he nuzzled your cheek, heeding the dictates of the universe.
"Where to?" you asked quietly, enthusiastically, and Gojo promised himself that he would forever keep that twinkle in your eyes that was beyond sunlight - that flickered only at the sight of him alone and belonged to him alone.
He faltered in shyness, lowering his gaze to the ground, but the gentle smile never left his face - gathering courage, he looked you straight in the eye. "Due north."
"I love you," he wanted to gloat, he wanted to tear his heart from his chest - you could no longer forbid him to utter those words. "I love you, I love you so much," he cried and laughed, holding your body gently against his, protecting what was left of you - the once forbidden words poured from his lips, and there was no end to the flow. Once clear and loud, they flowed into unintelligible, wet whispers, but he never stopped saying them. It didn't matter to him - let all humans burn under the mad, spitting sun, the two of you forever remain among the endless winds of the north.
Outside the window, the snow began to fall again.

You ducked involuntarily as a bottle flew toward you - it hit the wall, shattering into shards, and there was a drunken hooting sound. There were so many people in the bar this time that it was crowded, and you were getting your feet trampled on as you elbowed people trying to get to the stairs.
Each time you came to this room on a hunch, as if someone was calling you, though you didn't understand why you were here each time - you fought your way through the excited, drunken people and found yourself in a quieter room, where the bartender was still polishing glasses to a shine, but you didn't care about his frowning face.
You've never seen so many people at that table here before. Tris was still squirming unruly on Frank's lap. Vito was talking to Kyle, and your brother kept trying to shake off his father's massive hand while Vito teased him. Rob watched mesmerized as Rachel drained her third glass of light beer, and he held her hand the entire time. Their carefree images became a shroud, and you furrowed your brows, feeling something hot run down your cheeks.
They were all here.
You took a hesitant step forward, furtively wiping your tears away with your sleeve. You stared at them spellbound for another minute, listening to the quiet laughter, your sister's orders to pour her another drink, Frank's attempts to quiet the rebellious little girl, Vito's taunting of Rob about Rachel being the head of the family, and Kyle's attempts to keep them all in line. Once again, you felt left out, but the others didn't.
"Adoptee!" shrieked Rachel, almost choking. She coughed and jumped up, her chair toppling beneath her, and she rushed toward you. The people around you both laughed approvingly as she pounced on you, squeezing you in a hug and nearly knocking you to the floor. "Ya here too!" she laughed.
While you were drowning in indecision, Rachel did all the work for you - she dragged you to the table by the scruff of your neck and sat you down across from her and Rob. You gave your brother a confused, gleeful look - Kyle winked at you, gently rubbing the top of your head. "How ya got him, huh?" chuckled Rachel, bending over you and shoving you in the shoulder with her fist, then plopping back into the chair Rob had pulled up and taking the glass of beer in her hand. "Ya will follow me!" she mocked you, twisting your words in a high, overly bold tone.
You wanted to snap back on her jokingly, but you were interrupted by Tris, who had been working her way across the others' laps to get closer to you. "Hey," she muttered moodily, ending up in your lap and holding out her hands to you, demanding attention. You grinned, hugging the small body - the girl relaxed in a moment, resting her head comfortably on your shoulder.
"I'm sorry," you said, looking around the table guiltily. You were apologizing for everything at once - for your behavior, for letting them down, and for your silence about what you'd known all along. Rachel opened her mouth, her face red with indignation, but Kyle held up his palm and gave her a stern look.
"It's okay," Frank chuckled, moving over and ending up beside you. He gently but confidently cupped a wide, rough palm around your face and made you look up at him. "It worked, after all."
You smiled, kicking your legs in shyness - it was as if you were ten years old again, and Frank was praising you for the outstanding skills you'd shown at practice. "How's Mike?" blurted Rob impatiently, cutting into the conversation - he didn't care about the fate of the whole world at all, he just needed to know that his son was okay.
"Fine," you replied, looking at Rachel, her eyes dim with longing and guilt, and she froze, bringing the beer glass to her lips. Mike had indeed took both Rachel's looks and personality - so somehow he would cope with the loss, and Danielle was always at his side now. "I'll... go get another beer for us," you chirped, playfully shoving Frank away and handing him a half-asleep Tris to clear a path for you.
As you stood up from the table, you caught a glimpse of Rob cradling Rachel's drooping head on his shoulder - they weren't the best parents, but Rob had done everything he could to bring Mike into the old world, and Rachel had done everything she could to make sure their son lived in the new and better one.
On your way to the bar, you bumped into a familiar face, and you felt a chill of shame as Camila walked toward you, but surprisingly, she didn't give you a hateful look. She nodded, albeit without a smile, and went to her table. You turned around and there were cheerful faces waving at you - Axel and Ryan had already spotted you. Waving back at them, you laughed warmly.
Your return to your table with the still sealed bottles of beer elicited cheers of approval. Sitting down, you even grabbed one and opened it while the others did the same. Just as Kyle was about to take a sip, Frank grabbed his hand, stopping him and looking at him sternly. "And the toast?"
Kyle shook his head annoyingly.
"There will be no toast!" exclaimed Rachel cheerfully, drawing attention to herself. "But I wanna say something," she giggled, and her eyes show that she was ready to spit out a wildly stupid thing. "So, guys," she grinned slyly, winking at you. "Looks like we all get it back in the long run, huh?"
You rolled your eyes, and Kyle beside you chuckled into his hand, trying to block out the laughter with a cough. "I bet," you agreed nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders - at that moment, jingling bottles clinked and relieved laughter spilled over the bar. You chatted about everything and nothing - you were bombarded with questions about how Danielle was doing, how her baby was, whether he was doing well with Megumi, and there were the occasional playful questions about you and Gojo, but you brushed them off with embarrassment, your watch chiming on your arm.
"Hush!" hissed Frank, seeing that Tris had fallen asleep in his arms. You all fell silent, staring at the little girl with round eyes, and after a short pause, you switched to whispering.
"Give her here," Kyle said, taking the limp little tiny body and getting up from his seat - you immediately perked up, grabbing him by the edge of his jacket.
"Ya leaving already?" you asked with resentment in your voice, trying to make him linger.
"I'll see ya," he laughed softly, kissing you on the forehead for goodbye. You pouted your lips and crossed your arms over your chest, looking away as he left - your heart clenched painfully when you heard the chime of the doorbell in the midst of the drunken clatter.
The table was increasingly cluttered with empty bottles, plates of uneaten food and snacks. While Rachel, Vito and Rob competed to see who could drain a pint of beer the fastest, Frank glanced enigmatically at the watch on your wrist. "He made it all nice and pretty, didn't he?" the man snorted menacingly. In his world view, his children deserved nothing but the best, even though they ended up in this bar anyway.
"I bet a kidney that he outdid even ya and Shaya," you stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, and something clicked in your head - you discreetly touched your face and realized with horror that you weren't wearing a mask. What was weirder was that no one had noticed it, as if it were normal.
Frank glanced longingly at the watch on your wrist that had once belonged to his wife. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, muffled thump as Vito fell face-first into the table, and Rachel and Rob looked at each other guiltily, uncertainly, each holding a half-full mug of beer.
"Did we overdone it?..." whispered Rachel to her husband, poking Vito in the shoulder.
"Nah...," Rob waved it off. "He just lay down to rest..."
"Ya were a decent boy when I married off my daughter to ya," Frank shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "Oh just ya wait... when ya sober up, I'm gonna give ya a hard time... It's not so interesting to punish ya when ya're drunk...
You put your hand on Frank's shoulder, trying to reassure him - he put his palm over yours and gave it a little squeeze. "Grab him under his arms and get out of here," he growled, nodding at a passed out and drunk Vito. Rachel mumbled something, mimicking her father's tone, and picked up her comrade's collapsed body - even Rob, who had tried to help her, got caught in the hot hand. She shouted at him, and he lowered his head and scampered after her toward the exit.
"Kids...," Frank sighed indignantly, glaring after them. When the door closed behind them, he turned to you and a soft smile appeared on his face. "Well, it's time," he said, clapping himself on his thighs and got up from his seat - you hurried after him to see him off.
You looked around clumsily - there wasn't a soul in the bar, except for the perpetually sullen bartender. Once again, you couldn't keep track of the people leaving the place one by one. Standing at the table that was right by the exit, you waited for Frank to give you one last hug. "So... See ya?" you asked awkwardly, scratching the back of your head.
"Young lady," he chuckled inconsolably, shattered by your ignorance. He was tormented by your gaze - questioning, hesitant and lost, and for a moment the words stuck in his throat. "This time... ya coming with us."
"What?" you asked hollowly, almost interrupting him. You shook your head slowly, laughing stupidly, but Frank still didn't change his expression. "No, no, I mean...," you began to panic, each inhale and exhale coming with difficulty, and you wrapped your hand around your neck, afraid that you were about to suffocate. "I've always come out through... through...," you frantically looked around, but you couldn't remember - how did you ever get out of here before? Hot tears welled from your eyes, and you almost collapsed to the floor, but Frank gently wrapped his arms around your tense body, wincing in pain as he felt your heart pounding furiously. As you cried into his chest, all he could do was stroke your hair - it seemed to Frank that a single wrong word could throw you into an abyss of endless despair. You shook your head nervously again, pulling away from the man - he would once again give his life to never see those red, crying eyes again. "Is that it?" you asked quietly, sobbing. "I can't even... say goodbye?"
"Sunshine... Ya've already lasted longer than it was really possible," he tried to reassure you, but your tears turned into a broken, quiet laugh. You lowered your head and your hair completely covered your face, cutting off any attempts by Frank to soothe you with a comforting look.
"Unfair!" you yelled, throwing your head up sharply and glaring at Frank like it was all his fault. You immediately staggered back a step, burying your hands in your hair, clutching it painfully. "It's unfair, unfair... I can't leave now, I can't leave him..."
The departed souls always saw more and saw wider - you could justify your act all you wanted by saying you were sacrificing to rid the world of Diomorphea, but Frank knew you were here for Gojo. If his life wasn't on the line, you would have just run away, hidden in the shadows and waited for the opportune moment like you always did. Approaching you from behind, he lowered strong, warm hands on your trembling shoulders. "Young lady, I'm really sorry...," he sighed, trying to run your pain through his veins through his touch. "But there's no way to change fate. No matter what we do in our lives, we can't escape alive.
"I know," you snapped weakly, and he chuckled wistfully. "Promise me I'll see him again," you ordered sternly but weakly, even though you knew Frank wasn't God - he was just a loving father and a caring husband, but you needed to hear one last assurance.
"Like I said, we all end up here," he chuckled, turning you around - your face still showing anger, despair, and resentment. "Ya'll see each other again. I promise."
The words of his shaky vows seemed to suck all the strength out of you, and on trembling legs you made your way to the table and sat down on it, staring blankly at the floor. Your imagination began to play tricks on you - your fingertips seemed to dissolve into the air, becoming transparent, but why would you care if his face was still in front of your eyes? Memories were the only thing you had left, and you cringed, realizing that you no longer felt the line between reality and captivating fiction, and that life had become a magical dream you'd imagined.
"We gotta go," Frank reminded gently.
You nodded weakly and looked at the door with a wince - you headed for it without thinking, but when you tripped over something, you were once again filled with unwarranted anger. There was still a wooden plaque on the floor, which last time the guests had tried to attach to the wall, but apparently all their attempts had failed. Taking it in your hands and reading the name of the bar, you turned the sign sharply and jabbed your finger at it - Frank thought you almost made a hole in the wood. "What the fuck, Frank?" the tone of your voice grew louder along with your indignation. "Ya see that?" you nearly stomped your foot in outrage, and he laughed heartily as he read the title. Snatching the sign from your hands, he tossed it to the far corner, and with a firm arm around your shoulder, he opened the door - the bells jingled, announcing the last of the departing guests.
With a loud, relieved exhale, the bartender set the glass on the bar with a clatter. He hurriedly pulled off his apron and tossed it away in disgust, almost running to his coat and pulling it on in one motion, running his hands up the sleeves. His keys rattled in his pocket, and the ever-sullen man smiled for the first time as he found himself on the other side of the back door - he was glad to be leaving this place, closing the doors of the necessary sacrifices' bar forever.

You were lying on the grass, staring at your hand that was raised to the heavens, admiring the captivating shimmers on your wrist and ring finger, and you couldn't suppress an oblivious smile. You couldn't even think about the fact that it would soon be over - going against the winds of fate, you began to imagine a future together. The images were fuzzy and the voices distant, but they made your head spin, and a longing warmth spread through your chest.
While you, like a true thief, admired the glitter of the jewelry, Gojo was admiring you, gazing at your profile, which was furtively caressed by the dim moonlight, and after he looked up at the sky, but no star on the darkest canvas shone brighter than you. He snorted something under his breath, trying to get your attention, but your eyes remained captive to the glitter of the jewelry. The sorcerer propped himself up on an elbow, keeping his eyes on you, and placed a hand on your stomach. "Baby?" he called to you in a low voice, and you hummed something thoughtfully, letting him know you were still here. "Do you think... the universe is infinite?"
Your gaze immediately focused on the heavens that looked back at you through your fingers. You stirred, breaking free from the clutches of thoughts of a future together, and looked up at him in amazement. "What kind of question is that?" you laughed, but his face surprisingly remained serious. "Uh, I... I dunno," you muttered embarrassedly, turning your head.
Gojo chuckled quietly. "I didn't ask about your knowledge. But I am curious about your thoughts," he said with a fingertip poking at your forehead, making you wince playfully.
"Well...," you drawled puzzled, covering his hand with yours and now turning your full attention to the sky - some of the stars were hiding behind the leaves of the trees, shying away from you. "Both yes and no...," you murmured uncertainly, shrugging your shoulders. "There's a bit of a paradox here - if you ask people what the universe is in two simple words, many will say that it's everything we can and can't imagine, it's just that the wording will be slightly different. The snag is that if you think about the boundaries of the universe afterwards, you can't conclude that it has them, because in our understanding absolutely everything is already here. Have you ever known or seen a place that had everything, but there was something else beyond it?" you asked hesitantly, and he shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off you. "So I don't think... that the universe has some kind of spatial wall or something, and the light from the big bang will still be flying in all directions even hundreds of billions of years later, making the universe bigger and bigger. And on the other hand, that very edge could be right under our noses, but it's no longer just a wall to bump into, it's more like... an entrance or an exit. What if it were possible to tear our fabric of space-time? Wouldn't that be the boundary?" your eyes glittered brighter and brighter, and he looked up at the sky involuntarily.
The sky above your heads could have been someone's home, and the stars could have been grain that someone had accidentally dropped, or it could have been that you were here all alone, and the stars were just dust in an empty house. "But no one can do that. None of the humans, at least. It's like trying to move into a two-dimensional world, only in reverse. So we're doomed to stay here and accept our universe as infinite until proven otherwise."
You hastily looked away from the sky with a gloomy gaze that could not escape Gojo. He put his hand around your chin and forced you to look at him - behind the sincere glint of curiosity, a dull hopelessness flashed in your eyes. "Mochi, is something wrong?"
You hesitated, gathering your thoughts into words. "If the universe is infinite... I... I mean, what do ya think could happen in a place with an infinite amount of space and time?" you, though you spoke slowly and very quietly, still stammered.
"Absolutely everything?" he asked, frowning his eyebrows but never removing his hand from your face.
"Exactly!" you chuckled nervously, squirming in your place. "I mean... literally everything. If you sit in the middle of space for an indefinite amount of time and wait for a guitar to assemble in front of you, it will happen with one hundred percent accuracy. Now take a broader view - not only will any events happen, they'll also repeat themselves. It's gonna take an awful long time, billions of years or more, but what does it matter if there's an eternity to spare?"
When Gojo realized what you were getting at, he was first struck with a clammy, cold fear, and then relief. You and he were here, you were on this path together, and if not in a million years, then in ten billion, you would be in this very spot again, and it would all happen again, time after time, until the universe itself died. His heart skipped a beat - if anything could have happened, then you might never have met. "What about the rest of it? There could be many variations of events..."
"Gotcha," you chuckled, snapping your fingers. "But ya and me are already here, and this is all happening to 'these' us. And we are either the discoverers of this story, or we've already experienced it. We'll never know," you regained your carefree demeanor, but there was bitterness oozing through your cheerful words.
If a creature had crawled under Gojo's bed and whispered every night that he would live through this life, with all its loss and sorrow, with all its joy and serenity over and over again, would he have called it an angel or a demon? For himself, he knew for certain that if such a creature had come into his life, he would have believed in God. But what about you? "Does that scare you?..." he asked in a broken voice, betraying both despair and hope.
You looked him straight in the eye and shook your head slowly. "Not anymore," you whispered on a quiet exhale. You didn't care how many more times you had to go through the torture, or how many more cage bars you had to count - the keys to your freedom lurked in the blue eyes across from you.
At peace, Gojo closed his eyes, cradling your body against his. "I have something else for you," he admitted without opening his eyes, and you frowned - he'd already given you too much tonight. He rustled behind his back, fumbling for something, and a second later there were two blank paper in front of your face.
He laughed quietly at the genuine bewilderment on your face. "Today is the fifth of December. Remember?"
Gojo almost regretted his decision - your face contorted in pain, and you shook your head as you lifted yourself from your seat. He immediately wrapped his arms gently but firmly around your waist, his chest pressing against your back and keeping you still. "Mochi, I understand. You've always done this with your family. Although...I won't lie, I've seen that sometimes you didn't launch the paper plane. I won't ask why," he reassured you, his nose rubbing against your neck. He didn't need to ask questions, for your souls were one now, and now the mark that burned on yours he could read - you'd been afraid to want anything before, and now that you had no family, no town to protect... "Say the word, and I'll throw that paper away. But if you still want to...," he murmured gently and held out a pen to you, and to his surprise, you took it, albeit tentatively.
You glanced at him over your shoulder. "Turn away," you ordered quietly, and he smiled, hiding his face in your back, still hugging you. You placed the blank, white sheet of paper in front of you - may all your fulfilled and unfulfilled dreams forgive you for your uneven handwriting, but now you were trying to scratch out a single word while the uneven ground supported you. When you finished, you stuck out the tip of your tongue and folded the paper as neatly as you could. "Done," you chirped. "What about ya?" you asked indignantly, turning to him as he showed you the already assembled second paper plane with a sly smile.
Gojo helped you to your feet and led you to the very shore, but always making sure that you did not get your feet wet. He watched fondly and hopefully as you looked off into the distance, hesitantly rubbing the folded paper in your hands. "On the count of three," he coaxed you, and at first there was a flicker of fear in your eyes, but with a nod came determination.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
You launched your airplane a little before he did - they circled in the air, flying over the water and catching up with each other, taking your wishes and dreams with them. As soon as you blinked, both paper planes vanished into air, leaving behind only memories. "Hey!" you shouted indignantly, pointing at the ocean. "They're gone!"
The sorcerer threw up his hands and shrugged. "They always disappear, there's nothing you can do about it."
"How did ya do it?" you laughed, hugging him - with a happy heart he hugged you fervently in return. You didn't hear whether he said something or slyly remained silent, keeping the secret - your whole mind was filled with a silent cry of happiness. "Toru?" you raised your head, looking up at him. "What was on your first airplane?"
Gojo grinned softly. How could he have written anything else when he was blissfully nibbling on the mochi you brought him in his hospital bed? Existence had become life when he first felt the touch of your warm hands, and the notion of power had crumbled the day you let him embrace you - from the first paper plane to the last, it was always... "You," he exhaled, touching his lips to your forehead - you covered your eyes and listened to the singing of two hearts forever in love.

[March 27, 2025, 06:13am; Kyoto, Kyoto Prefecture, Kyoto College]
Gojo was often delirious in his dreams, grasping at the images his mind drew - each time as he reached up and almost touched your hand, he sharply jumped up and woke up, wet and sticky with sweat. He grasped desperately at the sheets beside him, but they were smoothed out, and worse, cold.
"Doc?..." the sorcerer asked weakly in incomprehension and indecision - the man froze in the doorway, looking at the blade between your collarbones, and was in no hurry to help at all. Behind Doc stood a confused Ieiri - the woman looked over his shoulder at Gojo, then shifted a startled gaze to the Doc's profile. "W-why are you just standing there?" he chuckled nervously, cradling your stiffened body against him. "Do something..."
But tonight, the sorcerer didn't sleep at all. He cringed as the first rays of sunlight hit his pale face, and he covered himself with a blanket, hiding from the world. His heart had been pounding relentlessly and frantically against his chest for months now, and he was almost used to this state - a state of endless and gratuitous anxiety. When he was all alone, he reacted to every sound and rustle, constantly looking around, waiting for you to appear.
Doc shrugged weakly and shook his head inconsolably - cold sweat ran down Gojo's back, and his t-shirt stuck disgustingly to his body, and his sorrowful gaze turned steely and ruthless. "Heal her," came not a humble request but a harsh order, and Doc's eyes gleamed with sympathy - the sorcerer was in such deep denial that he didn't see what was happening right before his eyes.
"Boy, come to your senses," Doc said quietly, shaking his head mournfully - he couldn't blame Gojo for the threats in his eyes, for his craziness, and for the fact that he was blind to everything right now. "She's gone," a pathetic 'no' came from the Gojo's lips almost simultaneously with Doc's words, and he lowered his eyes, and this world that the two of you had spent so long and carefully building splinter by splinter out of wounded souls came crashing down.
Gojo didn't even feel you dissolve. In disbelief, he clenched and unclenched the folds of his jacket, as if trying to find you - his mind screamed at the futility from afar, but his broken heart urged him to keep looking for you. The first, shattered sob of realization echoed through the room as Doc grabbed Shoko by the shoulder, pulling her out of the room, and before he could close the door, the two of them shuddered with a silent, desperate scream against the fabric of the jacket.
Sometimes Gojo talked to himself. Sitting in his room, he would tell himself how his day had gone, ask what shirt he should wear or whether his hair was too disheveled, but neither the walls nor the ceiling would answer him. He met each new day without fear - no sin or calamity would ever make him feel the pain he had felt every moment since you left.
The sorcerer didn't know how long he'd been under the blanket - he didn't care even when the lack of air made it hard to breathe, because now he was living like this every minute. He flinched when the alarm clock rang - reluctantly he threw off the blanket and picked up the phone, and in that moment his fluttering and agitated heart calmed for the first time. The notification panel lit up with a message from Megan with an address.
Gojo felt a vague excitement mixed with a pang of sharp pain as he got out of bed and went to the dresser and spent a long time deciding what to wear, asking questions into the void and tossing unnecessary clothes aside. He settled on the most familiar - a gray sweatshirt and black pants, and, fully assembled and with his hair slightly disheveled, he opened the last drawer.
He exhaled raggedly and took the neatly folded jacket in his hands and stroked it gently - it had been untouched since that day. He leaned the jacket against his face and inhaled, and his soul was wracked with hopelessness - he couldn't smell you. You were so selfish that you left behind no scent, no voice, no body, not even the drops of blood that were on his jacket once - when you disappeared, it all evaporated with you, and Gojo couldn't figure out if he was a fool, or you - a thief.
The sorcerer carefully put the jacket back on and gently smoothed the fabric one last time before closing the drawer. He stood up and straightened to his full height and walked out of his room, the afternoon light already streaming in through the windows, pushing away all the shadows.
Gojo smiled broadly as a small whirlwind flew at him from around the corner - the child nearly fell to the floor when he collided with Gojo's knee, but the sorcerer picked him up, tossed him lightly into the air, and caught him deftly - the child's face broke into a smile. "You're not just a baby," he cooed, lifting the child higher and peering at it. "You're a race car. And how does Danielle handle you? And by the way, where's your mommy?" he squinted suspiciously, and the baby giggled something inarticulately. "Let's go look for her or she'll freak out. And we've already got a houseful of crazy people here," and with these words he carelessly threw the little giggling body over his shoulder, holding it behind his back, and went slowly around the neighborhood, whistling softly.
Gojo chuckled softly as he saw a flitting silhouette in the distance, between the temples and trees - he picked up the child in his arms and held it out like a trophy as Danielle ran to meet them. "Kyle!" the girl shouted out in a panting voice and took the cheerful child in her arms, cradling the small head against her chest.
"The happiness of motherhood?" he drawled slyly, towering over them and hiding them with his figure from the blazing sun.
"Thanks," she sighed, still stroking Kyle's back. "Ever since he started walking, it's been a disaster!" she exclaimed indignantly. "We were going to the park, I just put his shoes on, turned to grab my purse and... he's gone," she snorted, jokingly biting the top of the baby's head gently. "Don't tell Megumi about that," she whispered fearfully, looking hopefully at the sorcerer.
"What's in it for me?" he leaned in, smiling broadly, so that Danielle shuddered involuntarily.
"Whole teeth," she chirped, smiling brightly back.
"Got it!" he straightened abruptly, taking a step back from the girl, causing her and the baby to laugh. Gojo winked at her, tucking his hands in his pockets and nodding somewhere behind her back - Megumi was already standing on the porch, his car keys in his hands, and Mike was standing next to him.
"Thanks again," she said quietly, and with a wink back at him, she hurried back to her husband. They all turned and waved goodbye to Gojo at the same time, and he waved back nonchalantly. When they were far enough away, he could afford to wipe the smile off his face as he watched helplessly as they walked away, holding hands and talking and laughing softly. None of them remembered you, none of them talked about you - sometimes he began to think he was just making you up, and it drove him crazy.
The sorcerer grinned wistfully as Megumi got Kyle and Mike into the car, and with a kiss to his wife, opened the door for her as well. There was no way Gojo could believe that you were the one who took that away from him. You were neither human nor alien - you were a shadow from other worlds, and he was the only one who couldn't accept that.
When he arrived at the hospital wing, Gojo stopped in front of Ieiri's office - the door was open, and he leaned against the doorjamb, watching his friend fill out an inordinate amount of paperwork, not daring to disturb her. "I was just planning a smoke break," she sighed tiredly, lifting an indifferent gaze to the sorcerer. He nodded embarrassedly, and followed her as Shoko left the office.
"Do you need something or did you just come to get on my nerves?" she asked, leaning against the railing and lighting a cigarette.
Gojo faltered, smiling hesitantly. He had never learned this thing about saying goodbye. "Just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm leaving."
"For how long?"
"For good," such a simple answer made Shoko turn her head sharply and glance at Gojo, but he didn't hurry to look at his friend, he stared bashfully and almost obliviously at the ground. The sorcerer might not have come here at all, disappeared in the middle of the night or even in the middle of the day without saying his last words, but that would be too dishonest and selfish even for him.
"I see," Shoko spat out quietly and turned away from him, taking a drag. "It's been almost a year and a half," she gave up, exhaling desperately. "There is no way you can't..."
"But I can't," he blurted out in a broken voice, frantically shaking his head and interrupting any talk of your death. "I can't. Or rather, I can live without her, probably for a very long time, albeit not very happily," he sobbed, smiling. "I just don't want to," he whispered. "I don't know what happened, but I don't believe she could leave me like that."
"You think too highly of yourself," Ieiri ran a hand over her tired face, trying not to arouse suspicion and give out that she knew something. "She could have just lost..."
"No. If she realized she was losing, she'd just run away," he exhaled, and the tone of his voice was neither harsh nor decisive, but Shoko didn't argue, for the two of them knew that you were never a fighter.
But you've always been a survivor.
Extinguishing the cigarette butt on the ashtray, Ieiri turned back to him, his once majestic appearance slumped, and she didn't know whether to be glad Gojo had let her see him like this or not. Unsure of how to approach him, Shoko wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to every tearing beat of his heart - she was seeing him off into the unknown. "Just know - if I don't come back, I'm now unconditionally and irrevocably happy," he whispered, smiling.
The sorcerer hugged her gently in return, and gave her forearms a slight squeeze and pulled away, taking a step back, still hesitant to leave. "Go," she said quietly, smiling weakly. He stood right in front of her, shuffling from foot to foot and glaring at her with guilty and to the point blue eyes. "Get out!" she barked furiously, and Gojo flinched and recoiled. She sobbed loudly, putting her palm to her mouth and closing her eyes - he didn't even grace her with his last face, she couldn't look at him, for he disappeared before her eyes.
On numb legs, Ieiri returned to the office. She was drowning in paperwork again, though every line floated before her eyes, and Shoko was horrified to see a tiny drop fall onto the sheet she held in front of her. She drew in air noisily, wiped the tears from her face zealously, and busied herself with rounds and examinations of the patients - that day everyone noticed that she was particularly silent and stern. Toward nightfall, she bitterly realized that there was no work left to do - Doc had forcibly escorted her out of the hospital wing and ordered her not to return until she'd had at least six hours of sleep.
As she walked along the cold ground between the temples, Shoko stopped in the middle of the road and lit a cigarette - she was enveloped in deep twilight, the chirping of crickets and steam with smoke that she exhaled from her mouth. She raised her red, exhaustion-filled eyes to the sky, and the stars twinkled brightly, comforting her with a glow that let her know everything was going to be okay. "I wish you luck on this journey," she said quietly, exhaling smoke. "Two idiots."
***
Three short, hesitant knocks sounded.
Just as you had left him behind, Gojo was leaving others - he was ashamed, but the endless urge to make things right was stronger than the usual shame. He waited with bated breath for an answer from the other side of the door. "Come in," a stern female voice commanded, and the sorcerer hesitated and entered - a face unfamiliar to him flashed in the small opening. A stately, young, black-haired woman was filling out paperwork, sipping whiskey from a crystal glass - he coughed quietly, drawing attention to himself, and closed the door behind him.
He had money. He had power. But even so, Gojo couldn't be sure that it would all pay off - for just one try, he was willing to give whatever was asked of him. He waited surprisingly obediently for Megan to get him an address, for all he knew was the name - all the while he dreamed of seeing you again. He was going crazy thinking about how he could get to the truth and do the right thing this time, but no solutions came to mind, but the sorcerer couldn't linger here any longer. You had disappeared so suddenly, leaving him all alone - all Gojo had done before was to boast of his exclusivity and loneliness, but now he could no longer exist in his old and familiar world where nothing of you remained, but everything reminded him of you, and he could no longer walk under the same sky.
Dying, a sailor chained to land missed the waves – Gojo went out to sea again, and if heaven had its own shore, he would surely find it and come back to you to spite all the deaths. While the Milky Way shimmered outside the window with tales of distant stars, waterfalls poured upward, clouds stopped their run, countless myriads became one, and the desert melted the sharp snow - in the expanse of the Satoru universe was rekindled once already perished Betelgeuse.
The End.

#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou#gojo jujutsu kaisen#gojo angst#gojo x y/n#jjk gojou#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#gojou x y/n#gojou x you#jjk#jjk gojo#gojo x you#satoru gojo#gojo jjk#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo
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catoru gojo proof


#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#jjk satoru#gojo x reader#gojou satoru#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojou#gojo x you#jujutsu gojo#gojou x reader#gojou x y/n#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk gojou#gojou satoru x you#gojo catoru#catoru gojo
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imagine gojo satoru who.....
imagine gojo satoru, who retired from the ceaseless chaos of jujutsu sorcery to finally tasting what it meant to live for himself. for the first few months, he ends up on an island, under these beautiful endless skies above him.
gojo satoru found that for the first time, the blue skies opened up wide for him, boundless in its freedom. he reached as far as he could and thought that maybe he finally reached his freedom, and his feet carried him far to feel it here, on this island.
satoru found himself that morning, hungry. and so he wandered into a quiet diner far into the island, the kind where the coffee pot was never empty, and the sun filtered through the blinds in golden stripes.
gojo satoru heard the bell above the door jingled softly as he stepped in, his cerulean eyes scanning the room, his gaze catching on the figure behind the counter. you.
gojo satoru found himself stopping at his tracks and felt his breath punched out of him as he saw you for the first time. you who looked like the sun beaming to him at first light.
satoru watched as you moved with a practiced ease, pouring coffee and chatting with the regulars, your voice a melody that hummed in the background of his thoughts.
it wasn’t the first time satoru had been awestruck by something owned by beauty, but this was different. you didn’t demand attention; you invited it, quietly, effortlessly. and you had his, happily.
satoru sat in the corner booth, the sun catching in his snowy hair as he watched you from behind his sunglasses. he told himself he was just here for breakfast, but the truth was, he was already trying to think of a reason to talk to you.
and when satoru finally found the courage to do so, he cleared his throat and asked if you had any recommendations for someone “new to town” such as himself.
you turned to satoru with a smile that made his heart trip over itself. a smile that he locked away for himself only. "why not the waffles? they're the only thing worth waking up for around here."
your warmth was easily infectious. by the time the check came, satoru truly didn’t want to leave, no. he wanted more time with you. he wanted to have more of the sun beaming on his desolate cold winter.
“can i—would you ever let me take you to breakfast? somewhere else? or just… let me see you again?”
satoru had felt the question lingered in the air for a moment, but your answer came with a lighthearted laugh that made his world tilt on its axis.
you smiled at him. “why not? tomorrow? i’m off at 8.”
that night, satoru lay in his motel bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying your laughter in his mind. for the first time in years, he felt something beyond survival or obligation. he felt hope. he felt like there was life to be lived.
the next morning, gojo satoru arrived earlier than he needed to, nerves humming under his skin. when you greeted him with that same bright smile, it was everything he’d hoped for.
you shared stories over breakfast, and when he tried out a joke he'd been too embarrassed to use before, the sound of your laughter became his new favorite melody. for once, satoru felt like he wasn’t carrying the weight of the world. you made him feel human.
but the morning after that brought an unexpected twist. the smile you greeted him with wasn’t laced with recognition. you treated satoru like a brand-new customer, your warmth the same, but your memory of him wiped clean.
at first, satoru couldn't help but think that it was a joke, but the way you tilted your head, confused but polite, made his heart sink.
“sorry, have we met before?” you asked.
satoru had tried to laughed it off, masking his surprise with charm. “i guess i’ll just have to introduce myself all over again.”
satoru ordered the same waffles, told a different joke, and earned the same radiant laughter. when he asked if he could see you again, your answer was the same: “why not?”
and yet each morning, satoru found himself in a loop. one that he could not escape. each morning, that same bell above the diner door jingled as he walked in, a nervous energy buzzing just beneath his casual demeanor.
still, every morning he looked forward to the same repetition no matter what. satoru looked forward to your warm smile which always greeted him the same way. he looked forward to your eyes lighting up as if you were seeing him for the first time.
every single day for you, it was the first time.
even if it wasn't like that for him whatsoever.
still, he never stopped reliving that life over and over.
it was worth it to him, to know that you smiled at him.
no matter how many breakfasts you’d shared, no matter how many jokes satoru would tell you, no matter how many times those jokes made you laugh until your bright eyes sparkled, the next day you never remembered.
every morning, satoru found himself starting over. he would smile and start introducing himself and figure out new ways to connect with you again, and trying not to let the ache of your blank stare settle too deeply in his heart.
satoru told himself it was enough. he told himself that as long as he could see you smile, he could handle the rest. but curiosity gnawed at him.
and one day, after another beautiful yet bittersweet breakfast, satoru finally worked up the courage to ask someone—a fellow server who had been watching him from afar.
“excuse me.” satoru began, his usual confidence faltering slightly. “i was wondering… does she—does she do this with everyone? forget them?”
the server, a kind older woman, sighed softly, her expression tinged with sadness. “you must really like her to come back every day, sonny.” she said, studying his face. "not many have the courage to do this, you know?"
satoru nodded, his voice quieter than usual. “i do.”
she hesitated, then gestured for him to follow her to a quiet corner. “it’s not my story to tell, but since you seem so determined… she was in an accident about a year or so ago. hit her head pretty bad. she survived, but… well, she can’t form new memories anymore."
satoru's brows furrowed. "what does that mean?"
"every day is a blank slate for her, sonny." the older woman says, somberly. "she remembers everything before the accident, but nothing after.”
the words hit satoru like a punch to the gut.
the server’s voice softened further. “most people don’t stick around when they find out. it’s hard. especially with this case, like loving someone who won’t ever remember you.”
satoru swallowed the lump in his throat, his hands curling into fists. “but she deserves to be loved.” he said, his voice firm despite the ache in his chest.
like i deserve to be too, despite who i am.
the server smiled sadly. “that she does. but are you sure you’re ready for this? it’s not an easy road to take.”
satoru didn’t hesitate. “i’m sure.......she’s worth it.”
from that day on, gojo satoru made it his mission to give you something new every day. every morning was a fresh opportunity. every chance he got, he took.
satoru would find himself looking for a new story to tell, a new joke to try, a new way to make you laugh. he started leaving little notes and drawings on the napkins you handed him, tiny treasures he hoped you’d find later and wonder about.
on particularly brave mornings, satoru would bring small gifts—a flower, a book, or something he thought might make you smile. he finds them when he thinks of you often. he thinks of you too much that it consumes him. and that was enough to sustain him.
satoru found that every single day with you was a gift. your reactions made his heart warm. every time, you reacted as if it was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for you.
“thank you, satoru.” you’d say, your cheeks warm with a blush. “you didn’t have to do this.”
“i wanted to.” satoru would say in reply, his heart full despite the knowledge that you wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.
each day was a challenge, but gojo satoru faced it with the same determination he once brought to his battles as a sorcerer. except this time, he wasn’t fighting to save the world. he was fighting for a world he could live in together with you.
because even if you couldn’t hold onto the memories, gojo satoru knew that he was strong enough. he would carry them for both of you. and that, he decided, was enough.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#gojou x you#gojou x reader#gojou x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x y/n#satoru gojou x reader#kayu writes ! ! !
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Open Your Heart and Swallow Me Whole ── teaser
gojo satoru x reader | college AU, 18+



ღ summary: your boyfriend breaking up with you before the start of a new semester was not on your 2024 bingo card, but who better to comfort you than your brother's best friend — or two?
a/n: I acc suck ass at dialouges and at smut, lord help me fr, also art credits to narutoss.ramen
taglist: open
series masterlist
“Has he touched you here?” your breath hitches as you feel a hand sneaking underneath your skirt, trailing up and down your thigh in anticipation.
Looking up at him through dazed eyes, you shake your head no. A pathetic whine leaving your lips as you feel his hands stop their pursuit, cerulean eyes looking down at you. Satoru releases a shaking breath, trying to control his desire, not wanting to intimidate you. You look up, eyes locked with his pretty blue ones as you practically beg for him to continue.
"Has anyone touched you here?" he askes hesitantly, hands grabbing the fat of your thighs, spreading them wider as his eyes devour the sight of the growing wet patch between your legs.
You let out a soft no, only encouraging him further as you feel a finger hooking under your the strap of your panties and snapping them against your delicate skin making you yelp.
"Fuck—tell me pretty girl, do you want me," you eagerly nod, tongue numb in your mouth as your breathing increases, feeling his thumb teasingly circle your engrossed clit through your wet panties, "right...here?" a choked moan leaves your lips, back arching off the bed in his rundown dorm room as you feel the pressure of his thumb finally on your clit.
Who better to show you the ropes than your brother's best friend?
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.
#☁️ gojosoups#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk gojo x reader#wip#jjk gojo#gojo#gojo x reader smut#gojo smut#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#gojou satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojou x reader#college au#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#jjk gojou#gojou x you#gojou x y/n#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru#jjk gojo x you
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SYNOPSIS satoru gojo, one of the most popular boy in college, plays on the basketball team, has a large reputation of being a player and dismisses most girls, leaving them coming back for more dk why , and you; a depressing fashion designer major, looking towards being a model. one night at a frat party that your best friend, shoko dragged you to, you went to the bathroom to hide away from the party but…
PAIRING fratboy! gojo x reader
WARNINGS 18+ , lowercase intended , cursing , fluff + angst , strangers to situationship (unfortunately) to lovers(?) , badly written smut , fem! reader , slow burn-ish , drinking/smoking , idiots in love , opposite attract + fell first/fell harder trope , never proofread
11:22PM; you shouldn't be here at all. loud music, drinking, smoking, making out in the corner shamelessly. This is not your crowd. This wasn't your fun, it's your best friend fun.
"oh come on y/n! this will be so fun!" you recall your best friend, shoko, pleading with you for you come tag along with her to go to a frat party that she was invited to once again (for the nth time in the past three weeks) "no thanks shoko. i have work to do." you half lied, you don't really have any work but you have work in the morning since you have no classes tomorrow in the morning.
"just this one time please!" she clasped her hands together in front of your face. that's a lie, one time turns into two, then three, then so on and so forth. but you are so tired and bothered by this point that you don't care anymore. "fine, just this once, but i'm not dressing up for anything." You get up and heads intot he bathroom, through the muffled door you can hear shoko's little cheers of excitement.
And now you regret agreeing in the first place. as soon as you arrived, shoko already left to go to her party animal friend group and started heading towards to kitchen for drinks probably.
11:46PM; you’re felt like leaving, but you didn’t want to leave shoko here with no ride and no conscious to call herself a ride home. plan b; hiding the bathroom. you notice that there’s a basement and a unused bathroom down there. you sneak around people and start heading downstairs.
it quiet, if you exclude the muffled bassed music from upstairs, its clean and empty, the bathroom door is right there. so why do you feel a weird sensation throughout your body not to open the door, much less step closer to the door? you decide to ignore it and approach the door, you didn’t hear anything through the door, well barely at least. you grab the doorknob and open the door.
a random girl. bent over the sink base, a drunk dazed look in the mirror as she moans, a really tall guy, looking around six feet tall, really pretty white hair and white lashes, straight up eating her pussy. you let out a small shriek, the girl barely notices but the guy snaps his head around so fast, you could have sworn he almost broke his neck. you slam the door close and bolted out of the basement.
12:12AM; you’re driving home. fuck shoko, she’ll most likely end up sleeping in another guy’s bed in that house anyways, she’ll live. but you refuse to stay in that house any longer, especially not after what you witnessed. it’s not like you’re new to sex, you never done it but you know about it but also you refuse to actually get a front row seat to real life porn show.
you made it back to the apartment, driving your car into the underground parking lot and heads into the elevator. your mind was spiraling, that reoccurring memory infecting your mind like a parasite. the guy’s crystal blue eyes, shining in a bathroom light, particularly blinding you, filled with shock and panic. you unlock the apartment door and went inside; about ready to shut down for the night.
6:12AM; you wake up at your phone buzzing rapidly on the bedside table, alarming you in your slumber. you slap around the table until you yanked the phone off the charger to turn it on. just to be blinded by the brightness. “fuck…” you mumbled to yourself. adjusting your eyes while still squinting.
“hello?” voice hoarse and dehydrated, “hello? is this y/n?” a male deep voice on the other line. “yes it’s y/n, who is this?” small noises in the background, “this is gojo…satoru gojo, you’re shoko’s roommate, right?” you make a small ‘mhm’. “yea, can you come pick her up soon? she has no ride and is really hungover..” you run your temple in a growing headache.
“uh yea…i’ll be over soon.” you hung up before hearing gojo out. yea you’re already tired of today.
TAGLIST @luvsymai @gojodickbig @sad-darksoul @kaemaybae @yukii-1 @juneslove21 @loverzxi
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"you taste fucking disgusting."
gojo satoru gags as he vigorously washes his mouth with listerine, the way he swishes and swashes the liquid is aggressive, and so is his method of disposing it.
"mmm, okay." absentminded, you lean on the door frame, taking a glance or two at your phone as your boyfriend leans over the sink. "i hope you realize that it wasn't meant to taste good— sunscreen. it's not a food, love. it's in the name, since it screens the sun's uv rays. you know? i'd say it's pretty self explanatory."
with a final cough and spit, satoru pants from the mint lingering on his gustatory senses, haunting his taste buds. "how was i supposed to know that?"
"what sunscreen is?"
"no, the fact that you were wearing it."
you barely manage to swallow the giggle attempting to claw out of your throat. "i hope you realize i wear it pretty much everyday when i go out."
he protests. "you should've told me."
"you shouldn't've kissed my cheek that hard then. it makes your skin all shiny and stuff too" you shrug, displaying indifference whilst fighting the urge to burst into laughter right then and there. "now we're late to lunch with shouko and the others."
"fuck lunch i need to get mint outta my mouth."
you respond with another shrug. "it is kinda your fault."
satoru narrows his eyes, petty and childish. "but you were busy calling shouko." you were gushing on a call with her, excited to see each other after so long due to the time consuming nature of college. seated at the front porch and slipping on your shoes, satoru innocently kissed you; opting to plant a long smooch on your cheek to avoid interrupting your conversation—unknowingly consuming some of your sunscreen.
the laugh you'd been holding onto for so long escapes. "dumbass."
"i had to kiss you somehow." your boyfriend pouts, a last minute resort to winning the immature quarrel (which was clearly, in your favour).
"awww, poor you. the after taste must suck." satoru grins victoriously, enjoying the prospect of being the winner of the banter, satisfied with his strategy.
it certainly didn't work.
"boo hoo, next time don't eat my sun screen." you punctuate your reply with a flick to his forehead, one he couldn't predict at all. "must've tasted horrible but that's your problem. was it really that hard to wait for shouko and i to be done?"
he replies as though it was instinctive and without thought, "yeah."
"you need to learn patience, baby."
satoru scoffs. "and you need to learn how not to be mean."
as he glowers as if he were a stubborn five year old, you kiss his pouted lips. "better?" now your phone was reminding you that a very perplexed ieiri shouko was pondering on your whereabouts. "now you've ruined lunch."
he wraps his arms around you. "we'll be fine, just tell shouko we're a bit late."
"but you already ate lunch. sunscreen with a side of my moisturizer. what's next? my face wash?"
"so mean..." he murmurs under his breath, though quick to shut up when you compensate your teasing with another kiss.
taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi, @chigirizzz
© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
a/n. i lied, the jjk debut isn't nanami (take a messy gojo drabble in the mean time that i got inspired by an intrusive thought) (also unproofread)
#i'm trying out a simple way of writing just bc#i see that kinda style on here a lot#queued#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojou x reader#gojou x y/n#gojou x you#gojo x y/n#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo#satoru#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustu kaisen
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mdni 18+
tw / cw : smut, choking but gojo is on the recieving end, he cums inside oops
Satoru has had you sitting on his lap, riding him ever since he got home. Telling you, "You gotta work for it," but isn't it his job to do the heavy lifting? You sit pretty, and he takes care of you? Well, that's how it usually goes. However, tonight is different. But that doesn't mean you won't whine about it the whole time.
Pressing your hand against his chest and bringing your hips down to slam against his, all while keeping yourself propped up on your feet. As your thighs start to tense up, you know they'll be sore later, but who cares when your pretty boyfriend is letting you use his dick as your personal fuck toy. But it would be even better if he helped out a little, right?
"Fuck me, fuck- Please- please." You whine to him.
He begins to give in only when your hand slithers up his chest and wraps itself around his neck. Giving him a little squeeze. You feel his dick twitch inside you, followed by a groan and some pathetic moans. Feeling his fingers digging into your hips as he gives you a little thrust.
As your pussy tightens around him, his hips start to stutter and his resolve begins to weaken. And he quickly moves his hands to cup your ass. Digging his heels into the bed before plunging into you.
The sound of sloppy sex filling the room. A swirl of your sloshy pussy paired with skin colliding. As Satoru's moans blend seamlessly with yours, adding to the intensity of the moment.
"so good, toru… s'good. Feels s'good."
He moves his hands from your sides to hold the back of your neck, while sliding the other around your waist. Pulling your face down to his as your hand still grips his throat. Your lashes flutter as you feel him shoot his load inside you. Feeling your slick drizzle down to coat his balls.
And after letting out a final moan, you collapse on top of him. Both too tired to get up just yet, you decide to stay like that for a while. With Satoru running his fingers over the grooves on your back, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. Taking a mental note to just choke him the next time you want him to give in.
#☾ spirit writes ☽#— ⊰ sugar ⊱#gojou x reader#gojou x y/n#gojou x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#gojo x reader smut#jjk smut#gojo smut
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當你不在 / when you’re not there (satoru gojo x reader)
Summary: Satoru Gojo is slowly being backed into a corner by his father to pick a bride if he wants to inherit the throne, as his royal guard, you just want to protect him.
Warnings: prince gojo x royal guard reader ! soft FLUFF!!!
wc: 850
Today is cold, the winds of autumn come knocking at the walls of Oculos, you’re kept warm, however, by the layers that shield your skin from the nipping chill— a tunic in sapphire blue covers your torso, a grey cuirass of dragon skin keeps your posture upright, and a bearskin cap tames your hair kempt. Perhaps an onlooker would’ve found the series of leather that strap around your shoulders and waist to be constricting, but your movement has grown within these boundaries— you were born for this duty.
Every day begins with leading a drill for your brigade. Whilst you stand under the wilting willow tree, you’ll pretend to not hear the soft hums coming from the prince’s chambers as you allow the wind to mess up your neckband.
Roughly an hour later, Your Majesty will finally decide that he shall leave his bedroom to come greet you by the dried leaves.
By then, you will have rounded up your men in two single-file lines to salute the prince. He never spares them an eye, maybe not even a breath. But it’s routine that he comes over to you, blue eyes one entire head above yours, looking down at you with a glint that is softly familiar, and he’ll fix your collar everyday without fail.
Afterwards, he’ll enjoy his breakfast in the hall, while you continue training your soldiers on wielding the katana with sparring and beatings. Breakfast, for you, always starts on an empty and aching stomach.
Today was meant to be no different, your steps periodic as you head towards the first meal of the day, but General Getou stops you in your tracks, “Commander y/n, report for duty in the grand hall. Satoru is looking for you again.” He sighs, “I’ll save some breakfast for you.”
“Thanks.” You say, the wind carrying your voice to him while you begin trekking in another direction.
When you enter the room, it seems that a ball has been going for some time already, despite it being only just the afternoon. Goblets of alcohol litter the tables, and a variety of fruits cover every surface. You return to your post— behind Satoru, on his right. He notices you right away, sneaking past the noisy wooden doors that you never liked, he’ll apologise later for making you skip breakfast, but he can’t be bothered to look at all these women parading themselves in front of him.
“Y/n, do I look fine today?” Satoru teases, cutting off a princess from the neighbouring country, simultaneously ignoring the glare that his father sends him from atop the throne.
“You look just as well as you had yesterday, Your Majesty.”
Out of the entire royal family, the only people who never held a distaste for you were Satoru and his mother, and now that she’s dead, you dare not speak in the presence of Satoru’s father, but you are the captain of the royal guard.
“Son, don’t you think the lady in red is just dashing? I think she’s much worthy of your attention, she’s of noble blood, at least.”
You remain stone-faced at your post, because the duty that you have learned to love comes with the acceptance of people’s spit: you are no more than the dirt on the sole of his shoes.
“Hmm, I think not, thanks father, and thanks ladies, but it seems that I have other more interesting matters to tend to. Have a safe trip home!”
Satoru is used to sending kings and the like home with red, glowing faces. He doesn’t care, he just drags you with him as he takes his exit. And you? You just follow him like a sunflower to the sun.
“You think I could just act super rude obliviously to drive them away?” Satoru asks, white hair blowing in the sea-salted wind.
He looks at you, but you look at Suguru, as you’re still shovelling the cold bites of food into your mouth.
“Their fathers are definitely willing to overlook that as long as they get to have your powers. Satoru, you seem to forget the reason why they’re even here to court you in the first place.”
Loneliness is a cold, unforgiving feeling. It’s not the same as breathing in winter air that makes your throat itch, loneliness doesn’t make rounds like the seasons do, it stays, stubbornly and mulishly rooted at the base of every step that he takes, it’s—
“It’s been three years, won’t my father just give up? Three years, no kingdom ever woos me for real, anyway.”
“What if you just marry someone and divorce them after you get the throne?” You ask, eyes bugged as you finish the last of your meal.
“I don’t want to consummate with a woman I have not a single tittle of feelings for.” You and Suguru meet eyes as Satoru continues to deliver his tirade to the calm ocean. You two will never be able to understand his life, a life of one million suns.
“I’ll figure it out.”
—it’s when you’re not there.
tag list: @hatsukeii @staraxiaa
#gojo is so unserious#sy.satoru#need to set up a masterlist later whatttttt#gojou satoru x you#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojou satoru x y/n#satoru x you#jujutsu satoru#gojou x reader#gojou x you#gojou x y/n
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•* Jealous Jjk Menˏˋ°
╰┈➤ ❝overview:❞ gojo, geto, yuji, toji, megumi x f!reader (separately)
╰┈➤ ❝ content warnings: ❞ fuckboy!gojo, established relationship for geto yuji megumi, yandere tendencies, dubcon/noncon kissing, toxic, possessiveness, Satoru calls reader a whore in his thoughts, depictions of light violence (not against reader or love interests), suggestive, mentions of sex, reader is kinda stalked by toji ig??,
╰┈➤ ❝wordcount:❞ ~600 words each, total ~3k
Satoru is a confident man, and why wouldn't he be? He knows he's fucking hot, that women fall at his feet, that he alone stands superior to so many.
And so every time he sees a nice, pretty-looking thing, he's got to have her wrapped around his finger (before having them wrapped up in his sheets)
Intentionally or not, he's unapologetically seduced one taken woman after another, fucking them nice and full before he disappears into thin air. He's got a big fat god complex, and he's got it for a good reason.
So when you come around as the newest jujutsu teacher, batting your doe eyes, your outfits hugging your body a little too well, he knows he's got his next target.
And it goes as easily as he expects. Soon, you're laughing with him at his stupid jokes and antics, ruffling his hair when he teases his students too much. You're intoxicating, and he just can't wait to see more of you, to see all of you.
He's so full of himself that he doesn't even notice how close you and your old high school friend are getting. Not until he's walking down the street, smirking to himself at the hushed whispers of how eye-catching he looks, when he sees you.
You're smiling so brightly, so pretty, yet why isn't it with him? He's seen that smile, he thought it was for his eyes alone, so why are you showing it to another guy? What a fucking whore.
He's livid, nearly dropping the bag he was holding from how distracted he became. Why the fuck is he jealous? How is he jealous?
Satoru's never been in love, and he doesn't want to be. He's never cared about a woman in the slightest, heartlessly leaving each and every one of them as tears welled in their eyes. So why does he feel his fist clenching in anger when he sees you smiling with this guy?
He watches you carefully, tilting his chin downward to see you more clearly, without his sunglasses. His hands lazily shove themselves into his pockets, gaze half-lidded with a light scowl
It's not until the guy gently pats you on the head, affectionately messing up your hair does he truly fucking loses it
Before he knows it, the guy's wrist is twisted up in Satoru's hand, fear plastered across the dude's face before he flicks his arm away. Shoving himself between you two.
'What do we have here, huh?'
And yet, even when he's protecting you, you're not even fucking thankful. Going off, asking why he would do that, confusion on your face as you comfort the guy and apologize over and over.
He sees red, harshly grabbing your arm and dragging you away to jujutsu tech. You're yelling out, telling him how much it hurts, yet he doesn't care. Thats not the fucking problem right now, so why don't you shut the fuck up?
Once you two arrive, you're thrown right against a wall, his hand punching the space next to you, rubble crumbling down from the impact. Yet that's not what truly shocked you, it's how his other hand tugged your chin up, his lips pressing right up against you.
You're gasping, and he gladly takes it as an invitation for his tongue to wrap up against yours, kissing you sloppy and rough.
Even though you're scared, even though you're trembling under his hold, you find yourself closing your eyes when he tangles his hand into your hair. Your heart was doing backflips, and you felt a sense of longing when he pulled away.
'That's right,' Satoru smiled, 'You're mine.'
Geto was a calm man. Always speaking respectfully, never losing his cool, and smiling to you so cooly every time you two went out anywhere together. He was the best boyfriend to you, and you couldn't be any happier. He knew that you were his and he was yours. He was stable.
Thus, with his stability, he wasn't bothered when Satoru invited you both to a club. He hadn't slept too well the night before, resting himself on the couch as he waited for you to get ready. Yet when you walked down the stairs, he felt his heart completely go haywire.
He felt his eyes go to every indecent spot someone could think of, and suddenly, the apartment you two shared felt a little too hot. He couldn't keep his eyes off your thighs, off your waist, off your breasts. All of which were hugged so well in that pretty little dress of yours.
'What do you think?' You giggled cheerfully, giving him a full spin before you hugged him tightly. And it wasn't until you asked did he finally remember where you two were going.
He felt an odd burn spiral inside of him. He thought about the perverted guys that would be in the club, thought of his fuckboy best friend, and Geto started to feel a little concerned.
Yet, he didn't show it in the slightest. He trusted you, he knew you were undoubtedly loyal to him, and he was for you. He smiled, immediately getting down to one knee and kissing your hand.
'You are stunning.' He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you couldn't get how hard you blushed and stammered at how you two needed to get going.
Once the two of you had arrived, he felt his walls soar sky-high when he saw Satoru greeting you with a hug that lasted a little too long. He snaked his hand about your waist, kissing the top of your head before lightly greeting Satoru aswell.
Once you had your fill of dancing, he offered to fetch you both some drinks. You smiled to him so pretty, pecking his cheek before he left.
When he came back, he saw some guy had joined your table. The moment the guy had reached out to take your hand, he slammed the drinks onto the table and greeted you affectionately.
Geto sat right next to you, across from the man. The air was so fucking thick, and his gaze was knocked onto the guy. Geto sizing him up as he draped his arm onto your shoulders, pulling you against his chest.
The guy was so intimidated he ended up stuttering some excuse to leave, Geto staring him down the whole time as the guy shuffled his belongings.
'Was that a friend?' He rubbed his palm against your upper arm. You hummed in response, laughing lightly. 'I can tell that you're jealous, silly.' And he simply took another sip out of his drink. 'Hey, common. Of course I would be.' He whined, his hand playing into your hair as he pressed a gentle kiss upon your forehead.
'I want you all to myself.'
Yuji was such a little simp for you. He would just start smiling while you two walked about, smiling on how lucky he was to have a pretty girl like you. He was so happy with you it fluttered his heart, even Sukuna would shit on him for how giddy he was whenever you were around.
Both you and Yuji shared a class, and even at school, he never hesitated to cup your face into his hands and press his lips against yours, sometimes if he felt a bit goofy he'd even slap your ass and run away when you chased him to return the favour. Yuji was in love.
And even though Yuji knew how great of a woman you were, he was never intimidated by it. He appreciated your entire being, and never felt threatened whenever someone was bold enough to hit on you in front of him. He'd simply smile confidently, watching you reject the guy respectfully. 'Thats my girl.'
In the end, Yuji trusted you with everything. He wasn't the type to be jealous at all, at least..that's what he thought.
It was after an especially rough nightmare when his control over Sukuna faltered, tattoos quickly spread over his body as he was forced into the back of his own mind.
Yet there you were, still peacefully sleeping as his little spoon, unaware of the beast that had awaken. Your chest rose and fell so gently, lashes delicately framing your eyes, nightdress hiking up to your thighs just enough. So how could you blame Sukuna when he gently pulled you to sleep on his chest?
When you came to, you were still wrecked with sleepiness. You lazily shuffled up to ‘Yuji’, mumbling a good morning as you gave him a peck on the lips. Yet, you were greatly surprised when a hand tangled into your hair, holding you in place as the kiss turned more sensual. A tongue slipping past your lips, a hand travelling up to rest on your hip.
His hand took your breast, twisting about a nipple as he smiled against you. ‘Yuji’ was being…so bold. Too bold.
You opened your eyes and nearly choked when you noticed the tattoos scattered across your boyfriend’s face. What happened?!
When Yuji regained control, he couldnt help but be all pouty with you. Was your baby boy…jealous?!
Before you knew it, Yuji was so clingy after that. He’d hug you lazily, and with his height and muscle, you couldn’t move the overgrown pulpy off you. Whenever you’d whine about having to get to work, he’d nuzzle his nose into your neck before sluggishly letting you change.
You couldn’t help but giggle as Yuji kept slapping Sukuna’s mouth on his cheek as a form of punishment. But what really amused you was how Yuji would slap your ass before announcing ‘See that, Sukuna? You haven’t had that with Y/N before, huh? Total score!’
Yet, everytime after that morning, you noticed Yuji become much too flustered whenever you came near. Soon enough, you saw how his eyes travelled back between the palm of his hand and your breast—and you put two and two together. He’d never felt up your tits!
You wanted to soothe Yuji’s perverted little mind. So during the next makeout session, you took his hand and pressed it right up onto your boobs. Yuji’s eyes shot open but you didn’t take it to stop the kiss, instead, laughing to yourself as you felt his curious hands give a light squeeze.
After that day, Yuji didn’t feel jealous in the slightest. He’d randomly be standing about before giggling to himself about your ‘godly tities’
God, you’ve fallen in love with a total goof.
Ever since Toji’s wife had passed, he couldn’t help the way his morality shattered about him. He missed her. He missed her so fucking much.
Every now and then, his memory would fade back to when his son was first born, his wife gently holding the child in her arms, head tilted to the side as she cooed and giggled.
And with that repeated memory, came even more anger when he realized his wife was gone.
He’d take out his anger on one Jujutsu Sorcerer after another, eventually building his reputation as a renouned assasin. So he wasn’t phased when someone offered him a fat stack of cash in return for your life.
At first, Toji didn’t care. He was even happy about it, sharpening his blade while imagining all the casinos and expensive alcohol he could purchase after his payout. He couldn’t care less about the sentimental value of your life, he was paid for a job and he’d be more than happy to soothe his bloodlust for the day.
So, when he cornered you into an alleyway, sinking a blade down into your gut, he’d officially secured his paycheck. While he nonchalantly walked over to you, you stumbled away from him in a panic. It hurt, it really did hurt. And you tried your best to defend yourself as you ran the best you could out the alleyway.
God, you were such a boring fight, he thought. But it wasnt until he realized why you had run out the alley.
In the near street, a little boy bad ran into the incoming traffic after his ball. You yelled out to the child, using your cursed technique to slow the car the best you could before you swooped the boy up into your arms.
You panted heavily, the blood oozing from your stomach wiping itself onto the boy’s clothes. But you did your best to pat the kid’s head, smiling to him and soothing his racing nerves. You were so…motherly. Caring. Sweet. You didn’t care for the chance you had to hitch a ride on the roof of that car, to run away from your inpending death.
You went out of your way to save and cradle this stranger’s child, and Toji saw a part of your heart that softened his own.
When you turned around, gaze stiffening as you prepared for your final moments—he was gone. No where to be seen. But he wasn’t gone for long.
Soon, he was everywhere you went. God, did this guy not have a life? Was he taunting you before killing you off? Every morning he’d be on the same route of your jog. He’d be sitting at your favorite cafe, he’d be whistling at the grocery store as you clicked your tongue in annoyance.
But what really surprised you was how he’d beat up any catcallers that harrassed you, how he’d pick up your keys if you happened to drop them, how he’d accidentally tap his card when you tried paying for your coffee. You were so confused with this man.
It wasn’t long until you softened up to him too, you both would talk lightly during every morning run, buy coffee together, and he’d walk you to work.
So no duh you said yes when he asked you to dinner
He was so giddy as he walked to the restaurant you chose, stopping outside the enterance and adjusting his tie in the reflective glass before stepping in. But he became confused when you were on the brink of tears from laughing at something.
He realized that at those one way windows…he had adjusted his tie and took deep breaths right infront of you…without him knowing a crumb of it. You thought that was so cute.
The night was great, until it became a little…awkward. And Toji noticed your discomfort, asking you what was wrong.
‘The waiter, he’s my ex.’ Toji took your hand reassuringly, telling you he’d be sure to keep the bastard in check.
But when the end of the dinner came, and your ex had attached a note to your bill with his new number and a pathetic ‘You’re so sexy, call me.’ Toji couldn’t keep still anymore.
He stood right up, walking over to your ex as the guy confidently strided away, yet all that radiating glory washed away with Toji grabbing the dude’s collar and slamming him into the wall.
‘Don’t fuck with me. You’ve long lost her.’
The guy was shaking, muttering nonsensical apologies. But it wasn’t until you stepped in and asked Toji to let the loser go, that he wasn’t worth it, did Toji drop the guy into the floor.
That didn’t stop him from intimidating the fuck out of the staff and owner, eventually getting your ex fired and your dinner being complimentary.
Toji was still restless. He wanted your night to be perfect, so he dragged you two out to a bar for some light drinks to make up for the whole drama at the restaurant.
And boy was he such a gentleman. Opening doors, kissing your hand lightly, gently taking your hair to his hand—he was such a dream.
By the end of the night, you couldn’t help it when both the wisps of alcohol and your fluttering heart meekly asked for the two of you to be official. Toji merely smirked to you, grabbing hold of your chin and kissing you dominantly before whispering down to you.
‘Let’s make it official, then. Ms. Zen’in.’
Megumi is so gentle with you, you can’t get over how much he makes your heart flutter.
Ever since you two got together, he’d meekly hold your hand like a lost little kid whenever you guys went out, a fat blush dusted all over his face when you’d give him a reassuring squeeze to tell him you don’t mind holding hands.
You loved him so much, and he loved you just so much more. Everytime he saw you he’d feel his eyes widen and heart stop, as though the world around would come to a halt just for you.
But this time, his heart stopped for a different reason.
When Gojo had decided to engage in team-mock-battles, Megumi felt dropped down when he saw you guys weren’t on the same team. You were paired with Yuji, while he was with Nobara.
Megumi knows you’re strong, but he just can’t keep himself together at the thought of trying to take you down with his demon dogs—so he decides to target Yuji instead.
It wasn’t until his dog lurged forward, jaw ready to bite right onto Yuji, did you tackle your partner out of harms way. Immediately falling right in top of him. You weren’t embarrassed, purely focused on the mission as you scrambled to get up and drag Yuji by the wrist to safer ground. But that didn’t stop the pang in Megumi’s chest seeing you hold someone else.
Yes, he knows its a mock battle, and he knows in his heart that you and Yuji would never betray him. But he can’t help but become a little more aggressive in his attacks to Itadori for the rest of the day.
When the battle ended, Megumi was panting heavily, bangs stuck to his forehead from the sweat, as he relinquished his cursed spirits. Gojo pat his back.
‘I haven’t seen you so engaged in a while. I wonder what triggered you!’ He teased Megumi, they both knew the answer, and Megumi knew the blindfolded bastard was just messing with him. He slapped Gojo’s hand away and was about to retort something back when you called out to him.
You ran to him as fast as you could, tackling Megumi into the floor with you on top of him. In that moment, Megumi saw the difference first-hand.
While you tackled Yuji with a panicked expression before scrambling up without any word—with Megumi, he noticed how you held the back of his head up to not hit it against the ground. He noticed how your other hand rested on his chest, petting him reassuringly. He saw that glint in your eyes, the glint of absolute love that resembled how he looked at you with so much endearment.
What he had with you doesn’t compare to anything else in the world. Megumi chastised himself mentally for ever getting jealous.
‘I love you, you know that? I love you so, so much.’
#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#gojou x y/n#gojo smut#gojo satoru#geto x y/n#geto suguru#jjk headcanons#jujutsu headcanons#jujutsu kaisen gojo#yuji x y/n#yuji x reader#geto x reader#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji zenin#toji imagine#gojo imagine#geto imagines#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro x reader#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk oneshot#gojo oneshot#geto oneshot
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HAPPIEST FUCKING BIRTHDAY TO MY BELOVED SATORU

#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#jjk satoru#gojou satoru#gojou#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk gojou#gojou satoru smut#gojou x y/n#gojou smut#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru smut#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satorugojo#HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED#I LOVE YOU GOJO SATORU
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araw – araw — gojo satoru.
You smiled, tired but radiant, and beckoned him closer. "Satoru." you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Come meet your son." He approached, his heart pounding in a way no battle or curse had ever caused. As he looked down at the small, fragile life wrapped in the softest of blankets, his breath caught in his throat. You gently placed Satoshi in his arms, and the world seemed to still. "He’s perfect." Satoru couldn’t help but murmur, his usually excited voice tender filled with quiet awe and wonder. "You’re amazing, you really are." Tears pricked at the corners of his cerulean eyes as he looked back at you, the love and gratitude in his gaze almost overwhelming. "This… this is the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me."
GENRE: post hidden - post inventory arc (2010s)
WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;
WORD COUNT: 4.2k
NOTE: i wanted to write today because it's genmei (you)'s birthday. you in this story were born on january 10th, 1986 - a few years older than satoru!!! there's only a month distance between satoru, megumi, satoshi and your birthday - so the household is always fun like that. oh and the card, megumi and tsumiki wrote thank you mom on the card!!! please listen to this song a lot too, opm is really great!!! i hope you enjoy this a lot like i did. i love you so much!!! see you on the next one <3
masterlist
u s and t h e m
if you want to, tip! <3
IT'S INTERESTING THAT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME HE COULDN’T FIND A GOOD PLAN. But it was true, this is the first conundrum he’s ever had to face in his life. Gojo Satoru doesn't think he's ever been good at not knowing how to do this before.
He's managed to face down curses that could obliterate cities, stood toe-to-toe with some of the most formidable foes in the world, and always come out on top.
But he supposed that he will only ever be undone by you. Perhaps it was always the case ever since he’s met you. That was as inevitable as falling in love with you. Everything was going to be a challenge. And he loved that. Because he loved you.
As he stands in the quiet of the early morning, he finds himself completely at a loss as he takes in the silence of the brightening dawn. He sighed tenderly as he found himself stopping his cerulean gaze right in front of him—you.
You were still comfortably fast asleep, with soft breaths escaping your tender lips, you looked peaceful despite the exhaustion etched on your face. Just the way he likes it. Much more so nowadays, knowing how tired you’ve been.
You were a new mother. And being a new mother, it was a lot of work. Even if you took turns taking care of the little treasure you brought into the world, Satoru knows that you work harder than he ever will.
He knows you stayed up all night keeping Satoshi asleep, cradling your son in your arms whenever he stirred. And just as much, you also keep up to date with Megumi and Tsumiki, no matter what happens.
Of course, he would tell you off so that you would continue on your bed rest or continue about taking as much time to heal as possible. But you couldn’t help it. This has been your entire life for almost half a decade.
You like being involved with everything. But Satoru worries, he always does. He can’t help it. He was just as much a father as he was a husband. You gave him everything that’s good in his life. And he means it.
Yet now this leaves him in a conundrum.
How the hell could he top this gift of a lifetime?
How can he equate this gift on your birthday?
It was only a month ago, on his birthday, when you handed him the most precious gift in the world: your newborn son, Satoshi. The memory of that day is etched vividly in Gojo Satoru’s mind, a moment he revisits often, especially in the quiet hours of the night when the world is asleep, and it’s just the two of you and little Satoshi.
He remembers the soft glow of the hospital room, the way your bright eyes shimmered with a mix of exhaustion and pure joy as you gently cradled the tiny bundle of life, a life that both of you created, a life you had risked heaven and earth for, lay tenderly quiet in your arms.
Satoru had entered the room, his usual confident stride slightly hesitant, his light blue gaze locked onto you. The second his eyes met yours, he felt something shift deep within him—a kind of warmth he had never known before. One that he never thought he’d ever feel.
You smiled, tired but radiant, and beckoned him closer. "Satoru." you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Come meet your son."
He approached, his heart pounding in a way no battle or curse had ever caused. As he looked down at the small, fragile life wrapped in the softest of blankets, his breath caught in his throat. You gently placed Satoshi in his arms, and the world seemed to still.
"He’s perfect." Satoru couldn’t help but murmur, his usually excited voice tender filled with quiet awe and wonder. "You’re amazing, you really are."
Tears pricked at the corners of his cerulean eyes as he looked back at you, the love and gratitude in his gaze almost overwhelming. "This… this is the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me."
In that moment, Satoru realized what it truly meant to be loved and to love in return. Holding Satoshi close, he silently vowed to protect and cherish his family with every ounce of his being. That day, his life changed forever, not because of his immense power or the battles he fought, but because of the tiny life in his arms and the incredible person who had given it to him.
Now, as he watches you sleep, that memory fuels his determination to make your birthday just as unforgettable. You had given him the world, and now it was his turn to make sure you felt just as cherished, just as loved. But still, what could he do that could equate to that? What could ever be enough to make your birthday just as special?
Satoru could only sigh quietly, scratching the back of his head, as he gazed at you lovingly. How could he possibly top that devoted act of yours? How could he make your birthday as special as you made his?
His clear mind races with ideas, but none of them feel good enough. With a quiet determination, he stands up, stretching carefully to avoid waking you, his joints softly popping in the stillness of the room.
When he finishes, he tiptoes over to the crib where your little son, Satoshi, sleeps peacefully. The soft moonlight filtering through the curtains casts a gentle glow over the room, highlighting the delicate features of the little one.
Satoru leans down, a tender smile tugging at his lips as he watches the slow rise and fall of Satoshi’s tiny chest. His little hands are curled into fists, and his lips form a small pout as his little one continues to find himself in dreamland.
"Hey, little treasure of mine." Satoru whispers softly, brushing a finger gently across Satoshi’s cheek. "You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that? And it’s all thanks to your amazing mom. You should be nicer to mom, okay? ‘specially today. It’s your mom’s birthday, after all."
A soft murmur releases from your son’s lips. Satoru couldn’t help but laugh silently. He could understand him, he supposed. Satoru will take his son’s hum as an answer. He stands there for a few moments longer, lost in the serenity of the moment.
The quiet hum of the house, the soft breaths of his sleeping son, and the comforting presence of you in the next room—all of it fills him with a profound sense of peace and gratitude.
Determined not to waste another moment, Satoru quietly steps out of the room. As he pads down the hallway, he hears the soft murmurs of Megumi and Tsumiki stirring their rooms.
A small smile plays on his lips as he finds himself leaning against the wall by their hall. A little while later, he could see Megumi and Tsumiki padding into their rooms, still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
"Satoru–san?" Tsumiki whispers, her voice gentle as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. "Why are you up so early?"
"Yeah." Megumi adds, stifling a yawn as he steps into the room. "And why are you standing there like that? You look like you’re about to pick a fight with someone. It’s weird."
Satoru raises an eyebrow, feigning offense as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Hey, standing around waiting for my kids to wake up isn’t weird. It's dedication."
Tsumiki giggles softly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Dedication to what, exactly?"
"To make sure we have the best start to the day, obviously!" Satoru replies with a playful grin. "Besides, today’s special, remember? It’s my wife’s birthday, and I need my secret weapons—aka you two—to help me make it perfect."
Megumi narrows his bluish–green eyes slightly, still skeptical. "Secret weapons, huh?"
"That’s right, you guys." Satoru says, ruffling Megumi's hair affectionately. "You two are crucial to this mission. So, what do you say? Ready to help make this the best birthday ever?"
Tsumiki and Megumi exchange a glance before nodding in unison, their sleepy expressions replaced by excitement. Though, excitement for Megumi is different than it was for Tsumiki. That’s just how his little ones were. Tsumiki giggles as she walks up to Satoru. Megumi hums, crossing his arms as he looks away. But from a corner, Satoru could see his little smile.
"Okay, secret weapons reporting for duty!" Tsumiki says with a mock salute, making Satoru laugh.
"That’s the spirit!" he replies. "Now, let’s get to work before they wake up and catch us in the act."
Breakfast could be a start, of course. Satoru had all the intentions of making today special just for you. Together, they tiptoe to the wide expanse of the kitchen, careful not to wake you.
The early morning light filters softly through the pastel curtains, casting a warm glow on their little covert operation. Satoru takes the lead on the operations, whispering instructions like a seasoned chef conducting a top-secret mission.
"Alright, Megumi, you're on egg duty!" Satoru says, pointing to the carton of eggs on the counter. "Crack 'em like a pro."
Megumi steps up, carefully cracking an egg against the bowl’s edge. A small shell fragment falls in, and he quickly fishes it out, shooting Satoru with a determined look. "I got this."
"Careful with the eggs, Megumi." Satoru whispers with a grin, leaning in conspiratorially. "We don’t want to serve scrambled shells to your mother."
“Gen–san’s not my mom….” Megumi rolls his eyes but can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Satoru goes behind him and pats his head. Megumi could feel his ears turn red. "I know, I know. I’m not five anymore…..I’ll do well with Gen–san’s eggs."
Tsumiki giggles as she stands beside them, diligently stirring pancake batter. "You’re not much better, Gojo–san. You almost dropped the syrup a minute ago."
Satoru gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as he looks at Tsumiki with a mock look of hurt. "Hey, hey, this is a delicate operation. We’re dealing with high-stakes birthday breakfast here!"
He then drops the act and winks, making Tsumiki laugh softly and Megumi snicker. “Alright, alright. Let’s do well. You know how sharp their nose is. They’ll smell it from a mile away.”
As the pancakes continue to sizzle on the griddle, the kitchen fills with the comforting aroma of sweet batter and freshly cut blueberries he’s adding onto the pancake.
He smiles as he flips them. Soon enough, he took the eggs from Megumi and thanked him. Satoru starts cooking the eggs on a frying pan on the other side of the burners.
Megumi soon grabs a plate and starts to put it near Satoru, who thanks him. Satoru expertly flips the pancake and continues with the scrambled eggs. Megumi takes a cup from the cabinet and takes it to the refrigerator, taking the milk and pouring it out onto the cup. He takes more and starts doing the same for the rest.
Satoru starts to hum as he turns the stove off. He plates your pancake then for him and the kids, before adding the scrambled eggs too.
Tsumiki happily adds the final touches to the batter with a sprinkle of cinnamon, while Megumi meticulously slices strawberries and bananas with a butter knife and adds them directly onto the plates. Satoru thanks the two of them as he carefully puts away everything they used for him to wash in the sink later.
Once the food is ready, the three of them carefully arrange your own food on a tray. They’ll eat their own food later. The blueberry pancakes are stacked neatly, topped with fresh fruit and a dollop of whipped cream.
A small bouquet of a variety of wildflowers from the garden, that Megumi found outside sits in a tiny vase next to a handmade card that Tsumiki decorated with hearts, glitter, and a sweet message inside by the two an Satoru remained etched inside.
Satoru steps back, beaming at their creation. "Alright, team, we’ve outdone ourselves. Let's wake up to our birthday target."
Tsumiki giggles again, picking up the card with pride. "Gen–san’s going to love it."
With the tray balanced carefully in Satoru’s hands, they make their way back to your room, hearts full of excitement. Tsumiki tries to suppress her excited giggles as she holds her brother’s hand, following Satoru. This was just the beginning. Today, they’re determined to show you just how much you mean to them—one heartfelt, lovingly crafted breakfast first, before the rest.
They quietly enter the master bedroom, Satoru balancing the tray with exaggerated care. You slowly stir at the sound of footsteps, effortlessly blinking, still rather weary as they came to approach you with their own sorts of excitements on their faces. The sight of all three of them standing there, happily, which can only make your heart melt.
“Happy birthday!” They all cheer, their voices soft but filled with all tones of excitement.
Satoru places the tray in front of you, as you slowly sit up, looking at him. Your husband's cerulean eyes were twinkling as he looked at you and placed a small kiss on your cheek. “Good morning. Sorry for the sudden surprise here.”
“Surprise really is a word to use.” You mumbled at him, teasingly as you smiled at him. “It’s a lovely way to wake up.”
“We made you breakfast, and Megumi and Tsumiki made this beautiful card for you,” Satoru whispers softly, his voice filled with affection as he places the tray gently in front of you. He gestures toward the card, a proud smile playing on his lips. “Obvious by Megumi’s handwriting. Which, you know, could use some work—”
“Hey!” Megumi’s face flushes red, his features contorting in mock indignation. His glare shifts between Satoru and you, though the hint of a smile betrays his embarrassment.
You chuckle, reaching over to give Satoru’s hand a playful smack. “It’s lovely, Megumi. Don’t worry.” Your eyes soften as you glance at the card, the glittery hearts and thoughtful message warming your heart.
Satoru pouts dramatically, rubbing the back of his hand as if you’d truly hurt him. “You didn’t have to smack me so hard, you know?” he says, feigning sadness, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated sulk.
“Hm, sorry about that, my love.” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully before leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know.”
“Hey, we had to, babe.” Satoru whispers, his voice filled with quiet conviction as he meets your gaze. His smile widens, the warmth in his eyes making your heart flutter. “It’s such a special day, isn’t it? Celebrating the person who makes our little family whole.”
Tsumiki beams at your side, her hands clasped together. “We just wanted to make sure you felt as special as you make us feel every day.”
Megumi nods, a shy small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it’s not much, but we hope you like it.”
Your heart swells with love, and you urge them together. When they are together close to you, you pull them all into a warm embrace. “I love it. Thank you all so much. This is the best birthday ever.”
Satoru wraps his arms around the three of you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You deserve the best, today and every day.”
You sit up, touched beyond words, and pull them all into a hug. “Thank you so much. This is the best birthday ever.”
Your beloved kisses the top of your head, his heart swelling with love. “No, thank you—for everything. We love you.”
Just as you all settle into the warmth of the moment, a soft, familiar cry echoes from the nearby crib. Satoshi's little voice rises, breaking the serene silence of the morning. Your husband Satoru chuckles, quickly pulling back slightly from the group hug.
"Looks like someone else wants to join our little celebration." he says, his bright blue eyes twinkling.
You smile, beginning to rise, but Satoru gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I’ve got this, babe." he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "You relax and enjoy your breakfast."
Satoru turns to Tsumiki and Megumi. “Both of you too. Go and eat breakfast too. We might go out later, to have fun. So you should go and get some strength too.”
“Okay!” Tsumiki nodded and started to pull Megumi with her, who was telling her that he could walk without being dragged by her. But she didn’t listen to him. She just happily pulled him along. You shook your head and smiled, starting to eat your breakfast.
Satoru carefully strides over to the crib, his heart melting at the sight of Satoshi, his tiny fists waving in the air towards his father, his little face scrunched in a mix of confusion and need. Satoru carefully scoops him up, cradling him in his arms with as much gentleness as he could.
"Hey there, little treasure. Good morning.” Satoru murmurs softly, rocking him gently. "Did you miss out on the fun? Don’t worry, we saved the best part for you."
Satoshi’s cries quietly down as he snuggles into Satoru’s chest, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of Satoru’s night shirt. Satoru slowly makes his way back into your bedroom and takes a moment to look at you, before he walks back to the bed, sitting down beside you, with Satoshi nestled in his arms.
"Look who decided to wake up to join the party, mama." he says, smiling as he hands the baby to you.
You cradle Satoshi, his soft coos filling the room as he gazes up at you with wide, curious blue eyes. He looks so much like your husband, when he’s waking up. It was all too cute.
“Good morning to you sweetheart.” you whisper, brushing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You wanted to join the birthday celebration, huh?”
“What do you want to do later?” Satoru asks, his voice light, though there’s an earnestness in his gaze. He watches you take a sip of milk, his bright blue eyes softening as they linger on you. “We gotta celebrate your birthday somehow—”
You pause, lowering the glass, and look up at him with a furrowed brow, a bit confused. “But we already are, aren’t we?” you reply, your voice warm with sincerity. “This is already an amazing celebration, Satoru.”
He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he gently shakes his head. “Babe, I know you’re happy with this, but I want you to have a great birthday. Something that feels just as special as you are to me. Just as special as when you gave me our Satoshi here.”
Your heart melts at the tenderness in his voice, but a tiny knot forms in your stomach. “Satoru, I just….” you start, placing the glass down carefully.
“This... this is more than enough. I’ve got you, the kids, and this beautiful morning. I couldn’t ask for anything more. This is as special as Satoshi’s birth to me.”
Satoru leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a quiet determination. “I know it’s enough, babe.” he says softly, almost like a promise. “But I want to give you the world. I want you to feel all the love and appreciation I have for you today.”
You can see the vulnerability in his bright blue eyes, that rare side of him that only comes out when it’s just the two of you, when the world around you fades away. Gojo Satoru is always so strong, so confident, but moments like this, when he’s giving you his whole heart— to show you just how deeply he cares.
You reach across the table, gently placing your hand over his. “You already do, every single day, my love.” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “I’m already the luckiest person in the world, just having this. Just being with you and the kids is everything I need for a great happy birthday. Nothing else matters but this.”
Satoru’s face softens, a smile finally reaching his eyes. He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. “I’m so lucky to have you, you know that?” he murmurs, the words filled with meaning.
Your chest swells with love, and you lean in to kiss him softly, a promise to share in this beautiful moment together. “Just as I’m lucky to have you with me. Every day.”
epilogue
When the excitement of the morning passed you and Satoru spent the whole day with the kids, just playing board games and watching movies. But there was one little detail you couldn’t shake off: Satoru had been extra secretive. And the kids were too. Somehow, you didn’t know what to do about this.
Satoru’s only secretive for three reasons — he wants to protect you, he wants to hide his sweet treat stash or he’s hiding something from you and that’s either him breaking something or your birthday present. The odds were always interestingly hard to know, when it comes to that.
As the day went on, you couldn’t help but notice him acting a bit too casual, as if he was trying to hide something behind that trademark mischievously sly grin of his. You had a feeling. No, you knew.
Your husband had something planned. He has to have had something planned. As much as you do say you don't want to do much, you know your husband can be too eager to do something. Even if it's just presents. And knowing Gojo Satoru, it was probably something expensive, flashy, and completely unnecessary.
"Hey, ‘toru." you say, cornering him in the living room as he casually tosses a playful grin your way. “What’s this I hear about you getting me a gift?”
His eyes widen in mock surprise, though it’s clear he’s trying not to break into a full-on grin. “Gift? What gift? I didn’t get you anything, like you told me to.” he says, feigning innocence with an exaggerated shrug. “Cause you know….I’m a good boy.”
“Don’t lie to me, Satoru.” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing as you give him your best ‘I know you’re up to something’ look. "I’ve seen that gleam in your eye before. You’re up to something ridiculous. Plus, Megumi blurted out something.”
Satoru chuckles, stepping closer to you with that playful swagger of his. “I don’t know what you mean, love of my life. Megumi could just be making it up too.” he says, winking.
"Uh, uh. You think our Megumi's the type to do that."
"I mean, it could happen, you know. Teens can be like that!"
"Satoru, he's not a teen yet."
"Yeah, but it still could happen." He points out to you, with a sly look. “Plus I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll love it. You deserve it, after all.”
“Aha! So you did get me a present!” You look at him and he smiles at you. He did not look guilty at all about outing himself. You shook your head at his reaction and then sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly.
"You didn’t spend a ton of money on it again, did you?”
Satoru’s grin falters just for a moment, but he quickly recovers. "Well, maybe just a little… okay, a lot.” He pulls a small, shiny box from behind his back with all the dramatic flair of a magician revealing his final trick.
Your eyes widen. "Satoru, no. You promised no big gifts this time! You and I talked about this!"
He opens the box slowly, and inside is a… luxurious watch. The kind that could probably buy you an entire year's worth of groceries. You stare at it, the gold and sleek design shining under the light.
It was probably a one of a kind one too. Satoru never gave you presents that were something people can get in mass consumption. He always wants to make sure you only got the best from him. And he had too much money on him to care about it. Even when you nag at him about it.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t… You didn’t have to do this, Satoru. This is—”
“Absolutely perfect?” Satoru interrupts with a grin, obviously pleased with himself. “I thought you’d love it! It’s a little flashy, but hey, it’s your birthday, babe. You deserve to sparkle just as much as I do.”
You stare at him for a long moment, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Satoru, seriously. This is too much. We’ve talked about this… I don’t want you spending money like this on me."
He tilts his head, giving you that look, the one that says he’s not going to take no for an answer. “Babe, this is nothing compared to the actual present I was going to get you.”
You blink, your mind trying to catch up. “The what now?”
“Yeah.” He nods nonchalantly. “I was going to buy you an entire island, but I figured that might be a little over the top. You know, for your birthday and all.”
Your mouth hangs open for a second before you burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. “An island?! Seriously? Are you trying to bankrupt us? I know we have a lot of money, Satoru but this is—”
Satoru shrugs, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Hey, I was gonna throw in a private jet too, but… we can save that for next year, actually.”
You shake your head in disbelief but you found youself chuckling at his thoughts. You can't help but feel a rush of affection for him. “I’m going to make you return it.” you say, though you can’t quite mask the smile spreading across your face.
“You won’t.” he says, smirking. “I already wrote a very convincing love letter to the shop owner. And you. It’s done. You gotta accept it!”
You laugh again, rolling your eyes playfully at your husband. “You’re impossible, Satoru. But I love you anyway.”
“Good to know, babe. I love you too.” he says with a wink. “Because I’m keeping that watch, and you’re wearing it every day from now on. Let me spoil you at least, hm? That's your husband's job!”
As you take the watch from him, still shaking your head in disbelief, you know one thing for sure: You’ll never win this battle. You know you can’t. Not when he loves you most in the world.
But at least you’ve got the most ridiculous, over-the-top husband in the world for everyday of your mortal lives together who loves you the most in the world and somehow, that’s more than enough.
"You should have gotten me a Casio."
Satoru narrows his eyes at you. "Baby, I have the money. We are not getting you a Casio."
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satorou x reader#gojou x you#gojou x reader#gojou x y/n#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo#gojo jjk#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#satoru
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Bittersweet Savior

Gojo x Reader
❀🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹❀
Summary: Things quickly go awry when you get sent on an emergency mission with your lover. When you both get split up, it's not long before this mission turns into a different kind of emergency.
Warnings: Profanity, Blood, Descriptions of reader getting their ass absolutely handed to them, Near death experience.

SMACK
The last thing you expected when you got sent on this mission with Satoru was to be launched through a wall by your fucking face. But as you blinked your eyes open through the incessant ringing and metallic taste on your tongue willing them to stay closed, you realized that this mission may have been a little (a lot) above your pay grade. The chewing out you were going to give Yaga after this mission might even rivel whatever injury Satoru’s going to tear you a new one for. At this point it seemed like the higher ups were trying to kill you.
You were barely able to stand up on shaky legs and a shitty sense of balance from your clearly concussed mind, but you managed. Alas, you stumbled, hand shooting out to what was left of the decimated wall for balance, as your other hand came up to use your technique. When, again, your body was shoved back in to the pile of rubble you had just climbed from. Your back hit the concrete with a sickening crunch, and a wail left you when you felt pain explode along your shoulder blades and cascade down your back like molten lava. Your head fell back, your neck resting at an odd angle as you sat locked in a world of agony. You tried your best to breath though it, but your chest heaved as you attempted to get your bearings. The next time someone at the school told you to fucking box breathe to cope during missions, was the day you would be put to death for murder.
The curse was seemingly toying with you as it stalked towards you with a sadistic grin, it’s skin a grotesque green with shell like shield formations covering it, It’s armor barely chipping against your prior use of your technique. You gritted your teeth upon realizing Gojo hadn’t returned since the cursed spirit had split you up with it’s multiple copies crowding the man. And if he was having trouble getting through multiple of them, it meant that this was a special grade, and your chances of getting through this one were slim to none.
Your body had become essentially numb to the pain as you backed yourself up the piled of rubble, your hands gripping the concrete as it sliced through your palms. You gritted your teeth, ignoring the crackles of pain shooting off along your spine as you tried to steady your breathing for the second time. Your hand raised as it curled into a fist, focusing your cursed energy into your palm as you let go of your middle and ring finger. Your technique manifested as a slice of wind launched towards the curse, cutting through the ground in its wake as it hurdled its way towards its target. You could hear it howl as it sliced through the air, tearing up the existing rubble and raking up pieces of it with its momentum.
The curse was flung onto its back as it collided with your cursed energy, throwing it across the ground, pieces of concrete and rock chipped at its armor as it was dragged further and further from you. You watched it tumble, rolling over a couple times as it’s hands gripped at the ground in a desperate attempt to slow its speed, despite the blade of wind actively shoving it further. Your technique only stopped when it slammed the cursed spirit into a building, the structure swaying at the impact as a cloud of dust and debris surfaced from the landing. A silence fell over the barren what once was a street, now more of a warzone, but it was short lived as you saw movement from among the cloud. It didn’t take long for the spirit to get up again, and your heart plummeted as you realized how little your technique did to it. It screeched as it got up, the sound piercing your eardrums as you flinched from the jolt of pain it sent through you.
A switch seemed to flip in your mind as you shot up, getting up off the rubble, deciding that it would be better to flee with your life than to try and fight a losing battle. Your palms left bloody handprints on the bits of rock and shale as you scrambled to get off the pile, feet clambering down the pile of blood-stained cement as you pushed yourself off of it, feet hitting solid ground as you broke into a sprint. You stumbled the slightest bit, but righted yourself as you attempted to fend off the violent nausea that plagued your sense of balance and direction. A steady burn started in your lungs as your fatigued body tried to keep up with the added exertion, your feet clapping against the ground as you ran with everything you had left in you.
Adrenaline shot through you when a solid object was thrown into your side, the shrapnel cutting through your hip and throwing you off balance as you were mercilessly thrown to the ground. Your body skidded across the tarmac as the wind was knocked out of you, coming to a stop as you hiccupped, heaving in a futile attempt to get air into your lungs. A grotesque wheezing sound came from you as you tried yet again, the strain in your chest finally letting up as you greedily sucked in mouthfuls of air. A sense of dread settled in the pit that had formed in your stomach, your throat closing up as a sense of panic took hold of you. You didn’t need to look down to know that the freshly made wound in your side was bleeding heavily, you could tell from how cold it felt when the wind brushed against it. You sensed that the absence of pain was due to shock, and that only meant that the injury was severe enough for your body to block it out. Your forehead came to rest on the hard asphalt, your body shaking from the shock your body was put under as you quickly weighed your options.
You assessed your physical state, and you really didn’t need to think too hard as you deduced that you were entirely fucked.
You had essentially accepted your fate by the time you had flipped over, and for a brief moment you wondered how Shoko would react to seeing your corpse in the mortuary. You felt the faintest sense of guilt at that sentiment, maybe if you had defected like Suguru, maybe you’d have been able to spare her the disappointment of seeing another one of her childhood friends exit the Jujutsu world, only this time in a body bag.
SMACK
That thought was quickly interrupted as the curse was kindly launched through a wall by it’s fucking face.
You didn’t even get a chance to process the relief at this development, as you saw a platinum head of hair pop in your vision and a hand come to pull his blindfold off as he stared down at you with those damn near blinding blue eyes of his. A grin spread across his features, a chuckle emanating from him as he looked you over.
“You don’t look so hot, princess.” He remarked slyly.
“Oh yeah, I’m great, thanks for asking.” You wheezed, hand coming to press into your side with a hiss. You flinched at the pressure, beginning to feel the warmth of your own blood flow through the spaces between your fingers. You felt the large divot that was now engraved in your side, and blinked up at Gojo when you saw his expression falter at the amount of blood beginning to pool around you. His signature smile fell slightly, silently examining you before pivoting around to face the curse head on.
“Just give me a minute to deal with this.” He said softly, and you nodded your head lightly. “Take all the time you need.” You hummed, a soft groan falling out of you as the shock began to wear off. You began to feel the steady thrum of pain throb through your being, squirming slightly as you laid on the ground.
You could hear the shuffle of rubble through the soft ringing in your ears. One second your eyes were on Satoru, and the next he had vanished, you barely had a second to flick your eyes over to the curse as you heard him sprint towards it with frightening speed. You saw his figure practically fly through the air as he cocked his leg back only to swing it at the cursed spirit. With a sickening crack, the curses head flew through the air, splitting it’s armor and leaving a stump in it’s wake. You flinched at the sight, tearing your eyes away as you heard its head roll across the dust scattered road.
You blinked and he was at your side yet again, face unreadable as he directed both of your hands over to your sliced open side. “Keep pressure on it.” He said, eyes flicking over your face as you laughed weakly. “Aww, c’mon don’t be like that, what happened to the cocky Satoru that never takes anything serious?” You joked, wincing as you obeyed his order, forcing your hands harder into your side. You struggled to keep pressure on it as you began to shake, hands trembling as they began to feel sticky from the blood.
“Shut up.” He scoffed, scooping one hand under your legs and another under your shoulders as he hoisted you up. A yell of pain left you at the movement, and his face fell the slightest bit as he adjusted you in his hold. “You’re pale, I’ve gotta get you to Shoko.” He stated softly, voice laced with a twinge of- dare you say- concern? Your laugh came out as more of a weak wheeze, head leaning against his shoulder as you stared up at him. “Yeah, I dunno about you but-“ you sucked in a breath of air, finding it getting harder to breathe as you gritted your teeth. “People usually get pale when they’re bleeding out.” You finished, eyebrows furrowing as a wave of nausea hit you.
A small smirk crept onto his face as he shrugged his shoulders lightly, your figure dipping the slightest bit with the movement. “I wouldn’t know, never bled out before.” He said with a huff. You snickered, shaking your head lightly as laughter wracked through you. A wave of pain hit you immediately after, and you tensed in his hold. “Ugh you’re such a dick.”
Your eyes slipped closed as you rested your head against his chest, feeling your surroundings change as you snapped them open again in surprise. You quickly took note of the beds that took up the room, and your jaw fell in astonishment as you blinked in shock. Your eyes flickered up to him, Brows knitting together in confusion as you realized what he had done. “Did you just-“
He cut you off, cocking a brow as he spoke. “Warp you to the infirmary? You really thought I was going to let you bleed out in the street? Wow, you wound me. Truly I don’t think I could ever recover-“ You cut him off with a soft slap to the chest, the action leaving a bloody handprint on his pristine white shirt. A groan sounding from you as you listen to him ramble about your subsequent betrayal.
“Just set me down and go get Shoko before you’re the one that ends up in a recovery bed.”
#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo angst#gojo satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader fluff#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk angst#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen angst#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk gojou#gojou x y/n#gojou x you#gojo imagine
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Happy Hands G.S.
Pairing: teen!Gojo Satoru x teenFEM!Reader
wc: 1154 | cw: CURSING, shoko smoking, Satoru being super annoying, reader beats up satoru, fem!reader, reader has the patience of a philosopher, crackfic, vomiting, NOT PROOFREAD PER USUAL 😋😋
Description: Satoru is annoying the living shit out of you, so you beat him up
(Someone submit something for me to write 😔)
“DUH DUH DUH DUHHHHH,” you make the beat of the song in front of the two.
Shoko stares at you with furrowed eyebrows, thinking hard. Chewing her cigarette, she waves her hand.
“Wait- wait, do it again.”
“Like everyone knows this song!— Or at least the person that made this song." You shout at her. Suguru snaps his fingers, your heart skips a beat, someone finally got it—
“Happy birthday.” He says with full confidence, then leans back in his seat with a smile. What he doesn’t expect is for you to punch his desk, causing it to explode. The wood scatters around the room like a mini bomb went off.
The screeches of his chair sliding on the ground fill the room as he backs from you.
“It was obviously Michael Jackson.” A voice from the door rolls his eyes. Satoru, in all his glory. He goes to sit down beside Shoko, but you kick his seat before he could take a seat.
“You weren’t playing.” You tell him dryly.
Shoko feels shivers crawl up her back. It’s not that you’re stronger than Gojo. No way, in combat he would 100% win. But, it’s just that your family is known to break infinity.
Cursed hands, family born with seals on their hands. Much like the inumaki clan, the (l/n) clan their own powerful seal.
“(N/n)?! Are you still mad at me, seriously?!” He pouts, dragging his seat back to his desk.
You clench your fists, staring down at him but not saying anything.
Shoko thinks three punches, and it’ll go down. Suguru thinks one if he can rile you up real good: One to break, another for the punch.
That’s what he was trying to do anyway. Yesterday, Satoru put cockroaches in your closet to get you angry enough to destroy his infinity because you refused to reason with him at 10:00 in the evening. But you didn’t get mad at him. No, mad wouldn’t even describe how you were feeling.
It was pure rage.
But you didn’t take it out on him. Instead, you went into Shoko’s room to sleep.
“(Y/nnnnn)!” The annoyance whines, holding his desk from the other side and batting his eyelashes at you.
“Suguru, pick a number, one, two, or three?” You ask him sweetly.
“Uh, three?”
You nod, clenching your fists before sucking in. Satoru screams, ducking as you wind up your fists, the room shaking with crazy wind. “Three punches it is—”
The seal on your hand glows as Satoru puts up infinity, covering his face. Shoko is standing beside Suguru, squinting as your fist nears the six eyes' precious face.
Yaga though, with his impeccable timing, comes in, placing one of his dolls to catch the punch. It ends up exploding into smithereens, and Yaga, though clearly distraught, sighs.
You glare at Satoru one last time before kicking his chair’s leg, hoping he would fall, then taking your seat beside him.
“Anyone want to tell me what was happening here?”
The three glare at Satoru, who smiles innocently. Raising his hand up in the air, “I was brutally assaulted by (Y/N) senseiiii!”
“I didn’t even touch you.”
“You put cockroaches in her closet.”
“I think you deserved it,” Suguru finishes off the complaints, smiling sweetly as his friend is put in hot water.
Yaga furrows his eyebrows, rubbing the corners of his eyes as he tiredly groans. “It’s too early to deal with the four of you—”
“It’s only one of us, sensei!” You chirp, trying to be polite, but Satoru can see your glare at him through your kind face.
Yaga sighs before turning to the board, with chalk in his hand, he begins the lesson of the day.
-
“How boooring!” You stretch, making your way to tree where the four of you— yes, including Satoru— would be eating lunch.
Shoko passes you a mason jar to open for her, and you take it.
It shatters in your hold.
You blink, feeling the liquid fall over your hands. “Oh shit, she’s still mad at youuu!” Suguru teases, causing Satoru to nudge him aggressively.
“I’m fine,” You hold your hand out to Shoko once more, “Hand me another one.”
Hesitantly, she digs in the basket, taking another mason jar and shakily giving it to you. By the time all your fingerpads got on it, it, once again, shattered in your hold.
“Okay now what the fuck.”
“You’re doing it on purpose.” Satoru tells her smugly.
He’s trying to rile you up, and it’s working. Now, he really didn’t tamper with the mason jars, that was alllll you, but now he’s taking advantage of the situation. He can tell it’s working from the vein that’d popping out from your jaw.
He noticed it happened a lot when you clenched your jaw too much.
“One more time.” You ask, and Shoko— who really doesn’t want to give it to you— glances at Suguru, who just shrugs.
“C’mon on guys, last time. Promise.”
Now that didn’t sound so good. Whatever you were planning definitely had something to do with Satoru.
Shoko, scared it would explode on her, threw it to you. And, surprisingly this time, it didn’t burst.
“Heh, would you look at—”
It exploded again, but not in your hands. On Satoru’s infinity.
You threw it straight for his head, luckily he unconsciously put up infinity after feeling your anger.
“What the- OOF!”
Not only did you break his infinity on the first punch, but it made contact with his skin. He gasped, rolling away from the impact with a still cocky laugh.
You huffed, and surprisingly he still had the energy to talk.
“That was noth— BLEGHH”
“EW SATORU!” Suguru shouts, immediately standing up and watching as his best friend hack and gag away in the grass on his hands and knees from a distance.
Shoko grimaces, watching as you stand up, stomping over in his direction, kicking the living shit out of him.
“I should kill you right now.” You say coldly, stomping on him
“Ow! Suguru, Shoko! Help me!” He says, yelping as you continue to assault him.
They glance away, whistling to themselves because, suddenly, the sky looks super interesting.
When you’re done, you plop beside him, and he’s grinning at you, somehow.
You’re huffing, exhausted.
“Don’t do that again.”
“Got it.” He murmurs, holding his stomach in agony.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, so could you—”
“Count sheep, Satoru.” You sigh, patting his head warmly, almost guiltily before standing up, walking off back towards the school. Shoko snapping numerous photos of a beaten up Satoru in the grass.
“Heh, I am so gonna print those out.” She chuckles, trailing behind your huffing figure.
They all leave him alone in the grass, and finally he can relax with a sigh.
No one can really see hearts behind his covered eyes, and thank god for that.
-
Thank you guys for the support on ‘What was in the bag’, I really appreciate it 🙏🙏 I feel like i should make a master list but like I don’t really say anything on here other than stories so I guess there’s no need for that now. BUT ANYWAYS, SOMEONE ANYONE SUBMIT ME SOMETHING TO WRITE I’LL DO IT I SWEAR 🙏🙏😞
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#teen gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk#geto suguru#shoko ieiri#gojo x y/n#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x you#jjk fanfic#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou x you#gojou x y/n#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru gojō x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#teen gojo satoru
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MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
"I CARRY YOUR HEART IN MINE"

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist
Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology, smut.
Words count: ~13.3k
tw1: jujutsu kaisen 0 mild spoilers
tw2: unprotected sex, creampie
⊲ previous

There was no questioning of your conscience, no rage pressed upon you - you sat in the black office chair, still dressed in your hospital pajamas, and stared blankly at the desk. You didn't know or feel whether an hour had passed or twenty-four hours - you mourned in the dark office, the windows of which were always covered with dark gray curtains.
The dead, unlike the living, don't repay debts - you couldn't understand what you were paying for. Yes, you were a thief. Yes, you were a killer. But there were creatures on Earth who were far worse than you, and they got away with it - otherwise, if punishment came to them, it took the face of death. They didn't suffer long, they had no time to grieve, nor did their souls boil in attempts to make things right.
You were confused. You came to the deity half asleep, guilt-ridden, hundreds of thoughts and memories swirling in your head, knocking you off balance, unable to distinguish reality from dream. Slowly, you put your elbows on the table and almost knocked over the clear glass, and held your head, hiding your inhuman face from the faces that flashed before your eyes. Were they payment for your stubbornness, or were they taken away because you had allowed yourself to be happy for a moment? A haunting thought was killing you with its grief - it could have been a necessary course of events, and you should have retreated, leaving your loved ones behind, without changing anything.
If you only knew the moment it all went wrong, the day your sister was taken from you, maybe things would have been a lot easier. The slightest mistake, and your only chance to get rid of the demons could slip away. You couldn't just jump around in time because of the guilt and loneliness that fell on your shoulders - that's what common sense told you, but you couldn't recognize its voice.
In the corridor there was the distinctive sharp sound of heels on parquet, which grew louder and louder. As soon as they stopped right in front of the door, someone turned the key and, pulling the doorknob, entered the office.
"Y/N, long time no see," Laitta greeted you cheerfully, turning on the light in the room - you couldn't even hear the surprise in her voice, and you got a sense of deja vu.
She didn't pay attention to your appearance or your condition - Laitta walked smoothly to the table, and you stood up to make room for her. You turned cautiously and locked gazes with each other as the goddess sat down, and you exhaled, stepping around the table to stand across from her.
She flipped back her dark curls, sighed contentedly, pushed her laptop to her side, and opened one of the folders on the table, pouring whiskey from a crystal decanter into a clear glass. The goddess didn't care about you - you were a ghost to her.
"Give them back to me," you commanded, clawing your hands into the table, trying to draw attention to yourself. Your tone was strikingly different - just a little while ago you'd been begging Rei for it, but now you were spitting out orders.
"Give you who?" the goddess asked idly, staring at the laptop and sipping whiskey from a glass. The quiet clinking of fingernails against glass was enough to make you snap.
"My family!" you yelled, sweeping everything off the table, Laitta's eyebrows raised in confusion and she glared at you squeamishly. Her graphite table began to be covered in the darkness that your dark lines carried with them, spreading beyond your body.
"Why would I?" she asked mockingly - she wanted to chop your hands off her desk so they'd stop making it dirty. "You have nothing to give in return," she reminded smugly, leaning forward.
The creature gave an order - you obeyed. You grabbed Laitta by the neck and slammed her against the wall, the impact so strong that the shelves collapsed to the floor with their contents. Open books, broken statuettes, plants, and scattered earth sprawled around you as you pressed the goddess's neck into the wall with your forearm, tears of rage streamed from your dark eyes.
You groped Laitta - your hope was fading more and more with each empty pocket as the goddess laughed hoarsely. "Talking to you taught me a useful lesson," she chuckled huskily, clinging to your forearm with her hands. "Keep anything of value away," the woman hissed, jerking away, but your grip was firm - you only pressed her harder into the wall. Your grin and the dagger edge pressed against her throat amused the goddess more. "So what are you going to do?" she asked with contrived pity in her voice. "Kill me?"
The goddess didn't seem it, but she was on the verge of passing out - she couldn't breathe. The mirth and irony had been replaced by coldness and arrogance. "Are you seriously threatening death to someone who has lived for more than a thousand years?" she wheezed indifferently, sensing your desperation - instead of trying to offer the goddess other jewels, to find a compromise, you were immediately ready to tear her to pieces. That was your mistake, and she should have put you in your place. "The only reason I helped you that time was because you had Atlas," she said proudly, despite her position - your grip was weakening with every word she said. "You can kill me for all I care," Laitta said calmly. "No one will notice the extra few drops on your already bloody arms."
You whimpered and staggered backward in horror and denial - not a mockery, but a reminder. It seemed that your fear had come to life, and you should have stopped being afraid - you had fallen down where there were no ladders or ropes, and you had become someone who not only lived off human blood, but also enjoyed human suffering. You could not justify yourself even before the reflection in the mirror - it didn't expect explanations and reasons from you, it was blind to your suffering and attempts to return everything back to normal. It still wanted to live at any cost, but you had nothing to pay for it.
Not to return, not to fix, but to hold on to the last opportunity for which you came into this world to be who you were. No one will pull you out of the abyss, no one will pull you deeper into it – just the balance and eternal peace you have learned since you were a child. Fill deaths with meaning, justify your deeds before the silent human wrath, and, if you were lucky, see them all again - if that side existed, maybe you would meet again.
You stood before the goddess who had lived a long time and looked at all the sins of humans, and you wanted to ask her if she had ever seen anyone worse. Laitta didn't judge you, didn't blame you, but she didn't want to help you either; resigned to the fact that you couldn't bring anyone back, you turned and walked out of her office on weak legs.

[October 23, 2023, 04:39pm; USA, State of Alaska, Utqiagvik]
At the edge of the world, a white mist rose slowly the town over, spreading between the small houses that stood on stilts. Red spears pierced the chill haze as the sun retreated, illuminating the snow-covered roofs one last time. The few people wandered leisurely through the streets, wrapping themselves in jackets and exhaling clouds of steam.
The North, as always, was serene and calm. Beyond the Arctic Circle, the cold dispelled people's fears about the future, there was no room for worries among the snow and ice, the gusty wind didn't drive home, on the contrary - it made get up and look around, freeze in place, feel the searing tide that flowed coldly through lungs with every breath. The feeling of frozen earth underfoot, blue colors in the sky, and a measured beating heart under the supervision of the harsh polar region mercilessly smothered any anxiety, and every tear froze in the eyes, never rolling down the cheek.
You could no longer see the shore because of the fog, but you could feel that the boat was taking you farther and farther away from it in pursuit of the white whale. You huddled as tightly as you could against the bridge, fidgeting with your orange lifejacket as you were tossed by the waves. Motorboats whizzed by, men's excited exclamations were heard, and you squinted every now and then - you should have stayed home today and not gone along with Jordan. The man standing on the bow was trying to see the escaped whale in the dark waters - white small ice floes in the distance, brazenly impersonating its tail, gave false hope.
You grabbed the side of the boat as it shook again, and looked at Jordan, who wasn't going to turn around at all, just clutching the harpoon tighter in his hand. "Jordan, the storm's coming, we have to go back!" you yelled, trying to shout over the roar of the engine and the wind.
"Quiet!" the man hissed, waving you away. He adjusted his black hat and stepped forward easily, still searching with his eyes for a hunted victim. You realized you were taking someone's place. To be more precise, you were standing where his son should have been standing - that was never an excuse for his gratuitous rudeness, but deep down you understood the man. It's hard to seal emotions inside forever - everyone coped as best they could. He chose to be rude.
Jordan wasn't a bad man - when you'd come to this town and wandered the streets as a homeless girl, he'd been the first to notice you. He'd brought you into his house, fed you, warmed you, and then, when you came to your senses, he'd let you live in his son's house for a nominal rent. Jordan had no sense of tact - he bombarded you with questions, and you had to make up a story about the tyrant father from whom you'd fled. You consoled yourself that it was partly true - you kept thinking of Rei as you told the fictional story.
The faces of those you had left behind flashed before your eyes, most vividly Gojo's face when he found out you had run away again. You couldn't see him, but your mind drew out his painful features, and in a voice that wasn't yours asked why you'd done it. You lost all sleep again, and at night, when the town was asleep and it hurt the most, you'd show up at Jordan's house - you'd always be greeted by a sleepy, disgruntled, unshaven face, but he never sent you away. You drank whiskey, played cards and did it mostly for money - when you realized that the man had a passion for gambling and a complete lack of gambling skills, you had to give in, lest he lose his small fortune and the house. But there's a silver lining - you did win yourself a few months of free accommodation.
Today was your second whale hunt - Jordan unceremoniously showed up at your house, tossed you a lifejacket, and dragged you to the dock. You tried to get through to him, talking about the forecast, but as you approached the shore, you saw people as desperate as he was - hunters crowding in, talking excitedly and getting into boats, and now you were here, in the middle of a restless ocean in a thick white fog.
Everything went smoothly on the first hunt, except for Jordan's perpetual nagging. It was the moment you realized why his son had fled to the big land, to the university - most people wouldn't want to witness a poor animal being harpooned and dragged ashore by its tail while dead blood washed over the blue waves. Even your body organized a protest at that moment, pushing nausea down your throat, but you were only laughed at - whale hunting was a tradition in these lands, a tribute to the past.
You almost flew overboard when an ice floe brought in by a swift wave crashed into your boat. The boats that were circling near you began to turn around - there was a whistling sound in the air, and that's when Jordan came out of his prostration. "Hey!" yelled the man from the other boat. "We have to turn around or we won't find shore!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Jordan spat, and turned unwillingly to throw the harpoon, heading for the bridge. "There's a reason they say a woman on a ship brings misfortune," he muttered as he passed you.
"Ya the one who brought me here!" you exclaimed, stepping onto the bridge with him. It wasn't any warmer, but the wind was no longer whipping at your face.
"Missed the white whale," he continued to lament, turning the boat toward the shore. You saw other boats whizzing past you, and they weren't even floating - they were riding the waves. Soon faint glow showed on the horizon - lights in the windows of houses called you home.
The hum of the engine died down, and the angry voices grew louder. When your boat was moored to the shore, Jordan hastily threw off his lifejacket on the deck, and then, adjusting his hat and taking off his gloves, he jumped to the ground. You followed the man, hesitating a moment.
As you stepped ashore, your head snapped up, and you looked around anxiously, feeling the stare, but there was no one you knew, only disgruntled men who were ready to blame anyone and everyone for the disruption of the hunt, even though it was the fault of the coming storm. As they stomped, shaking off the mud and sticky snow, you took a slow step back, trying to get away as fast as you could to avoid the swearing, but Jordan, sensing your cowardice, grabbed you by the shoulder. "Hey," he huffed, patting you on the shoulder. "Get us a beer while we get the boats secured on the ropes. There's got to be some use of you."
"No wonder why your son ran away from ya," you muttered, holding out your hand - you weren't going to pay for them all with your money.
"No wonder why your daddy tyrannized you," he muttered back, but put the money in your palm. "Hurry up. The storm won't wait, and we all have to go home," he said, shoving you toward the store, which wasn't far away, and even its friendly streetlight was hard to see.
The blustery wind made the snow rise and wander clumsily across the road - you tried to look at your feet, but you were surprised to realize you could barely see your shoes. Your eyelashes and eyebrows were frosting, and you threw your fur hood over your head, hugged yourself, trying to keep warm, and quickened your pace. The road seemed longer through the snow flakes than it had in the sunlight, and the light of the store was still far away.
It was getting darker. It seemed to you that behind the creak of your footsteps you heard another one - constantly frantically turning around, you couldn't see anyone in the northern darkness, and the storm, impudent, disturbed and raised the snow, drawing white silhouettes. Out of breath, you ran - climbing the stairs and bursting into the store to the tinkling of door bells, you met the surprised stare of the seller, who had been half asleep only a second ago. "Howdy," you smiled, waving your hand, and the salesman nodded confusedly.
No one came in even after five minutes of wandering between the counters. With a sigh of relief, you stopped at the liquor shelf. You should have hurried to avoid the righteous wrath of a bone-chilling Jordan, but once you were alone again, you were at the mercy of the memories that immobilized you. You'd never tell Jordan that he was the reason you hadn't fallen into inhuman despair, that his every shout and rude remark had kept you moving and thinking less about what had happened.
It's true that you couldn't bring back the dead, but you left the living behind too. You didn't talk to Dany, you didn't see Megumi, you didn't ask Issu how he was feeling or if his brother was okay, you just ran away. Your gaze mindlessly wandered over labels you couldn't read - you'd already forgotten exactly what you'd been sent here for. No matter how much you thought it was for their safety, you couldn't justify yourself - there was always a selfish purpose behind the noble one. Your possible death sounded like a quick song - until then you wanted to live like a normal person, shielding yourself from loss and sorrow. A dull life filled with peace on a far corner of the Earth - an unattainable treasure you couldn't steal, and even holding it in your hands, you knew that eventually it would be taken away by force.
In the north, the creature was silent, though hungry - you wrinkled your nose at the thought of having to go out sooner or later. There was a hospital in this town, but it was so small that there was no storage for a blood bank, which meant you'd have to get sustenance elsewhere. Gritting your teeth, you grabbed the first bottle you could find and went to the checkout counter. "Here," you said, showing the beer to the seller. "Need a six-pack. Got one?"
The salesman nodded and disappeared behind the warehouse door. You spotted a white cat with a bobbing head near the cash register, leaned your elbows on the counter, and jabbed your finger at it; it nodded merrily, hypnotizing you. You must be out of your mind to see Gojo in that cat. You shook your head and straightened up, as a salesman came out of the warehouse and placed a beer in front of you.
The store said goodbye to you with a clink of bells, and the storm greeted you with a gust of wind and snow in your face, tearing off your fur hood. With an annoyed sigh, you pulled the hood back on. As you looked ahead, stepping onto the stairs, you froze - the northern nature had brought with it a guest that looked so much like it. You refused to recognize the white, disheveled hair in the snowy patterns, but there was nowhere to hide from the piercing blue eyes that looked at you with longing and hope.
His voice didn't speak to you at night, nor did he appear in your dreams, nor did he beg you to return in any of your thoughts. You ran away cowardly, looking for a better life for Gojo - unless you were there, there was a monster who always cried out with terrible hunger. You dared not think of the sorcerer, for every bitter impulse to dream of his embrace was overshadowed, chased away by the memories of what he had endured while holding your hand. And as you saw him in front of you, you were trapped by the repressed emotions rushing out - you hadn't realized how much you'd missed him.
You underestimated Gojo. You couldn't believe that he would follow you, and all his students' words about him being the strongest had fallen apart - how could such a man look so miserable when he had won? You wanted to fall at his feet, to beg for forgiveness, but you kept silent, not moving - if you hadn't been born like that, you could have stayed with him, fearing nothing, but in this life your happiness had a countdown that was coming to an end. If it wasn't a demon that was going to kill you, your madness will do it then.
The bag of alcohol fell out of your hands and rolled down the stairs and landed tiredly at Gojo's feet, and you took a step back in disbelief, shaking your head frantically, and jumped over the railing and rushed away.
For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, even if death do you part - Gojo never made vows to you, but he was ready to fulfill them, but you didn't realize it even when he came to the far north for you. He felt your fears as his own - in every word you said, every clumsy decision you made, you wanted to keep him safe, to protect him, to spare him pain, but there was no pain greater than being alone, without you at his side.
The sorcerer was chasing you, barely able to make out your silhouette in the blizzard, barely able to see what was right in front of him. There was only one outcome to the chase - once he found you, he wasn't going to let you go, and you couldn't get away from him by hiding in the snow. Gojo ran so fast that even his anger couldn't catch up with him - it was left behind, left to the cold wind. In his imagination your reunion looked different - amidst the apologies and promises he could hear the ringing laughter, but the dreams were shattered by the blizzard and he continued to pursue you relentlessly. You were as small in comparison to him as you were nimble - the faster he chased you, the more the cold burned his lungs.
Gojo caught up with you at the corner - you were trying to escape by ducking into a small alley between the houses. He didn't realize it, so he grabbed the first thing he could reach. Miscalculating his strength, he yanked at your hood, and you fell awkwardly into the snow. "Where are you going?" he whined, trying to get you to answer where you were going and why you were running away, but you crawled helplessly away from him, disturbing the soft snow beneath you. You could barely make out Gojo's voice through the whistling of the storm. "I asked where are you going?" he echoed painfully, and you, with your back against the pile of the house, could run no farther. He collapsed exhaustedly in front of you and raked you into his arms, despite the fact that you tried with all your might to shove him away. "No," he shook his head stubbornly, sobbing and hiding his face in your hood, his ragged breath turned into wet droplets on your neck. "I'll never let you go," the sorcerer gibbered in a broken whisper, pressing his lips to your cheek - his strong hands were freezing, but his fragile soul was burning. Your body went limp, and you lost all ability to resist. "Never, did you hear me?" you nodded weakly, pressing your nose against his wet cheek.

You led Gojo by the hand into your house, and he followed obediently. When you got to the front door, you were embarrassed for a moment for you couldn't remember the last time you'd cleaned the porch - all around the house was covered with snowdrifts, and there was only the thin path you'd made before. As you came up the stairs, you fumbled in your pocket for your keys - you pulled them out and with trembling hands got them into the keyhole. You were afraid to look back at Gojo, so you glanced over your shoulder, smiling awkwardly before you saw him.
You frowned wistfully, opening the door and inviting him in. It was cold and almost deserted, there was no entertainment, and after a week the familiar faces were starting to get annoying. You, taking off your jacket, threw it on a shabby, old chair at the entrance. The sorcerer, looking around and not noticing the hooks, looked confused and repeated after you. "Ya cold?" you quietly interrupted the silence. He didn't answer out loud, but slowly shook his head. "I'll... um, I'll make something for us to eat then, and you... look around for a while," you mumbled haltingly, realizing that there wasn't much to look around - the little house up north wasn't a mansion.
You went into the kitchen, and Gojo remained standing in the living room. He shuffled from foot to foot, staring at the couch and the TV in front of him, unable to distinguish lie from truth and truth from dream. How many nights did you spend here while he was desperately searching for you? The sorcerer took a step forward and opened the left door where your clothes hung - behind it was a cramped bedroom. Glancing at the bed, he immediately realized that you hadn't slept on it once. He walked over to it, and after a moment's hesitation, sat down - the old, laundered sheets were too cold under his hands. Still not believing what was happening, he sighed convulsively, wiping his burning face with his hands. All this time he had dreamed of being as close to you as possible, but when he found you, the sorcerer couldn't stand to be near you - he thought you were about to turn him away. You had settled here, most likely living a quiet, peaceful life, and Gojo was a bitter reminder of what had happened. In his pursuit of you, he was thinking of himself, as he always did.
Gojo flinched when you knocked on the jamb of the open door. "I just wanted to warn ya that dinner won't be hearty," you scratched the back of your head and lowered your gaze to the floor. "I wasn't expecting guests, and I didn't buy any groceries, so I hope... you'll be fine with pasta and marinara," he looked at you like you were a ghost, and your soul turned inside out at his silence. "It's almost ready," you said in a half whisper.
With a nod, the sorcerer stood up and walked past you - you leaned back weakly against the doorjamb, watching him walk away without a word.
Gojo pulled plates from the shelf - some of them had broken, chipped edges, and he had to choose carefully. He set the dishes on the table and sat down without even inviting you in. Your zeal was fading by the second - you couldn't get him to talk. The only thing you could hear in the silence was the clinking of forks against plates. "Ya know," your voice cracked with excitement, and his heart skipped a beat, but you didn't hear it. "When we were messing around, Frank sometimes set the table, and we ate in absolute silence," you said, messing with pasta around your plate with your fork. "So say something already," you pleaded.
"Messing around? Is that what you call it?" snapped Gojo, throwing his fork at his plate - you shut your eyes involuntarily at the sound. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, startled by your reaction - the last thing he wanted right now was for you to run away again. "I don't... No, I understand why you ran away," he hissed, holding back his emotions leaning against the table, hid his face in his hands. "You think you're dangerous. I just don't understand how you could leave... everything like that," between everything, endless and boundless, the word 'me' modestly slipped in, which he didn't dare to utter. "You really never once felt like calling me?" whimpered Gojo. "Or message. Did you even think of me?"
Fear clenched its clinging hands around your neck - you had a hard time talking about everything you felt. Gojo was beautiful in every way, except that he sometimes forgot it. You tugged at the damp sleeves of your sweater, naively hoping he'd forget his question or pretend he hadn't asked it, but your silence only pressed harder on him.
You both jumped as you heard a loud pop - the lights in the house went out instantly. Gojo moved closer to you, peering into the darkness of the hallway, and you realized what was wrong. You walked over to the window, covering the glass with your hands and peering through the storm, and noticed that there were no lights on in the neighboring windows either, though it wasn't too late for sleep. "I think the power plant's having trouble again... It happens a lot around here," you muttered apologetically.
Your breath caught when Gojo came up behind you and put his arm around your waist - not so much from surprise as from the fact that all his clothes were damp and cold. "Oh my God!" you exclaimed, turning around. You cupped his icy cheeks, but it was as if he was bewitched and didn't feel the cold. The sorcerer, feeling you again, covered his eyes and gently rubbed his cheek against your palm, kissing it. "Get in the shower!" you worried. "I'm not gonna sit by your bedside for a week while ya sick with a fever!"
"I don't think so," he grinned playfully, covering your palm with his.
You pinched his side hard, shocked at the insolence of it - at his outraged yelp you broke free, and, panting with anger, you went into the bedroom and stopped by the dresser in front of the bed - a little rummaging through the drawers and you found candles. The locals were always prepared for such conditions. "Here," you muttered grudgingly, tossing the sorcerer a couple candles. "Go take a shower, I'll set up the rest."
Gojo took a moment to kiss you on the forehead and quickly disappeared behind the bathroom door, taking all your irritation and anger with him. You dazedly put your hand to your forehead - not only the place of the kiss was burning, but also your whole face.
You walked around the house with the sound of running water in the bathroom, setting up candles and lighting them as the flames dimly illuminated the rooms. When the last candle was lit and there was nothing left in your hands, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You had left Gojo unanswered to the question that troubled and worried him - he was chasing you, looking for you, and you couldn't even get a word out of yourself. Disappointed in yourself, you walked over to the bed and got down on it, arms out to the sides - even though you were a coward, you were embarrassed to thank the universe that Gojo was braver than you thought he was. Thoughts that he wasn't supposed to be near you drifted away with the muffled sound of water, and your heart stopped for a moment when it did. When you heard the lock click, you jumped up and sat up - you swallowed involuntarily as he came out of the bathroom. Wearing only a towel that hugged his hips. "Wha...," you began, stammering. "Get dressed!"
"Into what?" parried Gojo, raising an eyebrow. "Your robe fit me right here," he pointed to his waist level, and your cheeks flared. "Or do you want me to put on those wet clothes again and get sick after all?" he asked, pursing his lip pitifully.
"My turn!" you exclaimed, flying past him and closing the bathroom door with a loud slam. Gojo laughed softly but heartily - you hadn't realized how much courage it took for him to show himself in that state to you like that, or the embarrassment behind it.
The sorcerer looked around the room, which was lit by flickering lights, and dropped his gaze awkwardly to the floor, smiling sadly. He should have done it, but you beat him to it again. He looked around the room again with a sober gaze. It was empty, uncomfortable - no framed photos stood there; no clothes strewn about. Even when he looked in the dresser, he frowned, realizing it was empty, as if you were ready to flee this town at any moment.
Gojo was still angry, but he could never blame it on you - he blamed fate itself for keeping you away from him, for making you think that you were unworthy, that you were cruel and bloodthirsty and would hurt him sooner or later. Did you remember that you came to him in your unconscious state, silently asking for help and seeking protection? The sorcerer grinned, biting his lip - he didn't know if he'd made it up himself or if he'd read it in the memories of your face, but in the end, lying on that bed without the black orchid running through your veins and without the tourniquets that bound your limbs, you never attacked him.
Gojo looked at himself in the small mirror on the wall above the dresser, embarrassed; he no longer saw the strongest sorcerer. He was still him, but the face that appeared before Gojo was no longer smug and cocky, and the only thing missing was you standing next to him. When he caught a glimpse of you, he decided it was now or never. And never, taking its infinite nature with it, retreated.
The sorcerer glanced timidly at the bathroom door as the sound of water behind it subsided. Slowly walking up to it, he knocked. "Mochi?" he asked. "You done?"
"Yes," you replied muffled.
"May I come in?"
"Why?" he almost laughed, hearing the childish disbelief in your voice.
"I need to brush my teeth."
"Well...," you drawled uncertainly, pursing your lips. "Come on in."
When the sorcerer came in, you stood, tucking your white robe as tightly as you could without looking at him, but the awkward and hurried movement of your hands screamed embarrassment. Pretending he wasn't interested, he walked around you and stood in front of the sink - you, chuckling, repeated after him. The only sounds in the bathroom were the water running from the faucet and the rustle of brushes. You weren't used to someone else standing next to you in the bathroom. Gojo was not used to having someone else standing next to him in general.
But you've learned.
You looked at Gojo through the mirror, and you frowned when he looked back at you, but in person - putting the brush in the glass, you snorted and walked out, trying to brazenly leave him alone with his damn towel on his hips, but the sorcerer, throwing his brush right into the sink, followed you. You squeaked quietly as you were picked up in his arms and placed on the dresser - you shook your head fearfully from side to side like you were afraid you were being watched, but really you were afraid to look directly at Gojo, at his face that was inches from yours. "I can't take it anymore," he confessed in a trembling whisper against your cheek - you shuddered invisibly at his hot breath. "I'm giving up," he exhaled soundlessly. "I lo-"
"No!" you shrieked, clamping your hand over his mouth - Gojo whimpered into your palm, his eyes squeezing shut as the unspoken words throbbed painfully in his chest. "Ya can't," you shook your head desperately, tears were welling up in your eyes.
"Who are you so afraid of?" he asked morbidly, cupping your cheeks, trying to reassure you. Gojo knew you too well, and the fear you were feeling was not for your life at all. "Judges? I don't give a fuck about them," the sorcerer grinned bitterly. No one would drag him away, no one would take him away from you - he could pick out hundreds of words, but in this vulnerable moment, Gojo could only stroke your hair with trembling fingers.
Your wishes and your peace of mind were the undeniable priority, and so be it - his words went unspoken, but the greed inside Gojo grew more and more fiery. If he couldn't tell you that, then he'll show you. "I know what I want for my birthday present," the sorcerer said quietly but firmly, stroking your thighs.
"What?" you asked confusedly, fixing your wet hair with your hands. "But your birthday is in December-"
"I want it now," Gojo resisted hesitantly, but squeezed your hips more stubbornly. "I won't ask for much," he promised, resting his head helplessly on your shoulder - you turned slightly and buried your cheek in his snow-white hair. When he felt that you weren't pushing him away, the sorcerer stirred and rested his forehead against yours. "Take off your mask," he asked. You, frowning, lowered your gaze. "Take it off, please," he pleaded, touching your temple with his lips - you suddenly remembered how he had asked you to take it off long ago - that request had been impertinent, insolent, and now he stood before you, waiting obediently for you to take it off. Gojo had seen you in all your forms, and you thought it would be all right for him to see the last of you.
You wrapped your hands around his tentatively and brought them up to your face - you could feel his warm fingers shaking, and you could barely look him in the eye, but you forced yourself to feel what you had forbidden yourself to even think about before. You pressed his fingers lightly against your chin line, and he bit his lip, breathing feverishly, trying to calm his heart - Gojo realized what he had to do. He led his fingers downward, painfully slowly, along your cheekbones, and you, unable to find the courage, closed your eyes and tears ran down your cheeks. "Shh," he whispered softly, cupping your cheeks - you could almost feel how soft his lips were. "There you are," the sorcerer laughed wetly, stroking your cheeks and kissing every inch of your face.
Gojo pulled away from you a little - the agony was tearing his patience to shreds. He ran his fingers along your chin, your nose, your lips - how could you keep it from him for so long? Your conscience had to get back at you for the sorcerer, for all the days and years he'd lived without seeing your beautiful face fully.
Gojo moved closer and stopped right next to your lips. He breathed raggedly against them, feeling your closeness. How many nights he'd spent with you, how many days he'd been with you - all of them combined wouldn't be enough to describe a second of what he was feeling now.
You clutched at his shoulders and froze - you knew what would follow, but you had no idea how the sorcerer would treat you afterward. You had no experience, no loving hands to caress you, no warmth to give you, and you were alone with the fear of the unknown.
Gojo felt almost cruel - unasked, without permission, he kissed your lips, pulling you to him by the waist, trying to convey all the tenderness he'd been saving up since almost the first day you met, but his movements were curbed by fever. He couldn't resist anymore, he didn't have the strength to live without you.
Closing his eyes as if in pain, Gojo felt uncertain. You were responding to his kiss, albeit clumsily, but whether you were doing it of your own free will or being overwhelmed by his assertiveness, he couldn't answer. His lips, trying to keep up with his feelings, barely moved, and the sorcerer panted. His hands were restless – he stroked your hair, then your soft neck, and those scars that he constantly touched reminded him how you were treated – only then did he feel how hard you were grasping into his chest.
Gojo suddenly pulled away from you and looked at you anxiously, his hands gently cupping your face. Your flaming skin felt icy, your body chilled, and you weren't looking at him - your black, frozen eyes were staring through.
Startled, the sorcerer recoiled a little, but he was still clutching at you. "Baby," he whispered, kissing your temple. "I'm sorry. I didn't...," he mewled, biting his lip painfully. He looked at himself in the mirror that was right behind you and saw himself as an animal, no different from the ones who tortured you when you were weak. With barely suppressed anger, he pulled you against him, burying his nose into the top of your head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to be... like this."
Gojo flinched when your fingers touched his stomach - you drew circles on his skin in soft motions. "It's okay," you murmured into his shoulder. "It's just... Can ya slow down... just a little?"
Gojo looked at you worriedly, surprised. "I...," he began, perplexed - he saw no disappointment in you. "Sure," he laughed softly, and shyness chained him - in the rush, in the greedy passionate kiss it couldn't catch up with him, but now, as he kissed you desperately but tenderly, he realized that the dream had come true. You were here with him, real and alive, responding to his kiss, stroking his cheeks, digging your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you. Gojo could endure anything as long as you were by his side. A thrill ran through him, unsparing his heated soul, and he grasped at you shamelessly, his hands digging into your thighs then and stroking them as if apologizing for his impatience.
You involuntarily pressed yourself against Gojo, seeking protection - past humiliations, oppressions and torments had tried to catch up with your tenderness, to make you doubt, to push Gojo away and close in on yourself as you had always done, but this time it was different - in the light of the blazing fire your shadows cast gentle movements. Feeling how you fondled, how you pressed into him, he whimpered softly against your lips and, cradling your head, tipped you over a little and covered you with his body from the whole world, wanting to kill the bitterness of memories on your lips. The rush could have ruined everything, but Gojo, unable to resist, wrapped his arms around your waist, the privacy begged to continue. Shrouded in security, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and cowardice left your shores - you chased it away from your night with him.
You touched his towel – Gojo, frowning, pressed his hips deeper into your thighs and, whimpering, grabbed your hand and placed it back to his shoulder. Perplexed, you tried to pull away from him, but the sorcerer, whining resentfully, tried to press his lips to yours again, to feel your warm, tender tongue against his, but you stubbornly recoiled, forcing him to answer your mute question. "I'm a little shy...," Gojo muttered under his breath, embarrassed, and you laughed quietly. He scooped you up into his arms - you squeaked in surprise and clung to the sorcerer, and now it was his turn to laugh, despite the weakness he didn't show you - his legs shook long before he carried you to the bed.
Gojo sat you down on the edge, and he, exhaling, slowly knelt down on the floor in front of you - you awkwardly tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, hiding from his blue eyes, remembering and realizing where things were going. He didn't tear your clothes, he didn't rush you, he didn't threaten you - he was subdued before you, but love wasn't something you two could subdue. Gojo wetly kissed your neck, gently nibbled at your collarbones, and when he faced reality, he clenched his teeth and pulled back. He could shamefully admit that he'd imagined it more than once, but finding himself here now, with you, he was afraid to go any farther. "What's wrong?" you asked worriedly, taking the sorcerer by the chin and forcing him to look at you.
"I'm afraid of scaring you off," he admitted honestly on an exhale, stroking your knee. "I've only just found you, and already I'm doing everything I can to get you to run away again," Gojo swallowed and looked down, and dishonor choked his neck – he was weak before the urge. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"No," at your answer, his heart dropped and he was ready to swallow his own desire despite its sheer size. "I don't want that. I want you," you admitted shyly. "I...," you laughed, trying to hide the brokenness in your voice. "Yeah, I'm a little scared, but it's okay if it's ya."
For another long moment, Gojo stared at you devotedly, and then you felt his warm hands on your neck again - pulling you to him, he deepened your fragile kiss with a gentle flick of his tongue. "Can I take it off?" he dared to ask, rubbing the waistband of the robe - crumpled by your passion, it hid almost nothing, but the sorcerer wasn't going to make any more mistakes. You, closing your eyes, nodded. Covering your forehead with light, almost ethereal kisses, he slowly untied the waistband - the fabric of the old robe slid down your shoulders along with his hands. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, to hide the scars that the sorcerer hasn't seen yet, to shield him from this picture. Gojo wasn't going to push you anymore - instead of objecting, he nuzzled against your cheek. "Hold me," he pleaded, knowing you couldn't refuse him, and you gave in and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders.
The walls of the windowless room no longer pressed against you, you didn't feel the dozens of clammy touches, you only wished the Gojo's hands were touching you more - they not only didn't bring any pain, they took the old one with them. He would never kneel down like that in front of anyone, he would never show obedience to anyone but you - you breathed into each other's mouths as he gently, tentatively cupped your exposed breasts, not daring to go any farther - you wrapped your palms around his and squeezed it a little harder with his hands. "My baby," Gojo moaned against your lips, and you felt unbearably hot - despite your open eyes, you couldn't see anything in front of you, but the blazing spots on your skin told you where he was kissing you. You arched your back, whimpering softly as you felt his wet tongue on your breasts - Gojo stifled your doubts, listening to your every moan, pulling you tighter against him. He licked and sucked your nipples - he was maddened by your flushed, hot skin, the way your touch silently begged him for more, unwilling to let go. It wasn't a desire - that disappeared once it was done, but it wasn't an obsession - not to keep you in a cage, not to pull your leash, but to tear it off and follow you everywhere.
Feeling brave, you pulled Gojo to you, your initiative got him confused, and Gojo whimpered into your mouth as you kissed him, responding eagerly to your urging. With his thumbs he continued to stroke your nipples, wet with his saliva, in circular motions, and you, losing your balance and your mind, caressed against him, rubbing your cheek against his in brief pauses. "I'll never hurt you," he whispered into your neck, and you frowned, trying to hide the confusion - wasn't that a necessary part of the process? But his words, unlike the memories, felt more real - you wanted to hear them more and more.
Still sitting in front of you, between your legs, Gojo took hold of your undies and looked at you cautiously - you nodded, biting your lip. He kissed your forehead again and slowly, as if deliberately, began to pull down your underwear. You involuntarily squeezed your legs and looked away, unable to look because of the shame. You sighed in surprise, curling your toes as you felt his lips on your ankles - Gojo was moving higher and higher, kissing your shins and cold knees, and you clenched your teeth and tried to relax, and his promise, dousing you with a soft wave, helped you do it - you closed your eyes and slowly spread your legs apart, making Gojo whimper with anticipation.
You could no longer feel the scars on your thighs - his gentle, unhurried bites burned on them. You could hear the crackling of the candles in the room, your ragged breathing and the way Gojo stroked your skin. The kiss on your lower abdomen was timid but unexpected - you twitched, and he lavished your worries with a kiss of calm and adoration as he rubbed his nose against your thigh. You weren't angelic to him, but you came to him from heaven - his most beautiful creature that Gojo had once mistaken for a monster, and he was ready to pay for it for the rest of his life.
Gojo wanted to revel in every moment, for he couldn't hold back any longer - you felt his fervent breath between your legs, and you moved in impatience, touching his hair. A shy frenzy swept over him, and he responded to your silent request by slowly running his tongue over your clit - you tried to pull away, unaware of yourself because of the unfamiliar sensations, but Gojo whimpered pathetically and pulled you to him obsessively, drowning, eager to take all your vulnerability he felt on his tongue.
Your moans were getting wilder, louder. You tried to muffle them against your hand, biting it painfully - he stubbornly but gently grabbed your palm and put it back in his hair, not letting you take away the melody of your pleasure, the notes he'd been searching for so long. He almost wanted to laugh triumphantly, you had nowhere to run - the sorcerer pressed you closer to his face with his forearms, his palms soothingly stroking your convulsively heaving belly. Gojo kept changing his pace, giving you no time to think, taking all your thoughts from you as he gently, slowly ran his tongue, wet with his saliva and your juices, over your clit, then sucked it greedily, and the sorcerer was dizzy from the closeness - he could only moan helplessly into your pussy as you clutched desperately at his shoulders.
Your legs began to burn, not from the pain, but from his touch - never a fraction of the pleasure you'd felt before, and your eyes widened in fear and your legs trembled as you grabbed the sheets and tried to pull away from the sorcerer again. "Don't you dare," Gojo whimpered between kisses and flicks. The towel, tired of hugging his hips, slowly slid off, falling to the floor. His hard cock throbbed painfully and he felt like his lower abdomen was about to burst, but Gojo didn't dare touch himself - he knew that if he did, it would be over before it had even begun. But he wasn't chasing his orgasm - his pleasure without yours meant nothing to him, though passion had curbed the sorcerer, but it wasn't lust that drove him, and in all his ardent, timid, jagged and sometimes clumsy movements, he tried to convey to you, the blind one, what you meant to him. He wouldn't run away in the morning, he wouldn't avert his eyes after - he would give you pleasure at night, making you laugh and protecting you during the day. "I don't- I think- I-" you stammered, almost out of breath and squirming, and he pressed your trembling legs harder against his face.
"Do it for me," Gojo moaned with you, and you stiffened, arching your back - the orgasm drowned out all cries of consciousness that you were supposed to be in pain, and you collapsed onto the bed, freed by loving hands. You panted in affectionate but insistent oblivion, still stroking Gojo's hair as he kissed your wet, glistening thighs. With a satisfied, self-conscious smile, he climbed higher, deliberately loudly and quickly smacking your belly - you giggled stupidly, hiding your face in your hand. "Nom," Gojo bit your cheek softly, and you laughed, though both of you had tears in your eyes. "How are you feeling?" the sorcerer asked, gazing at you intently and stroking your hair - you snuggled into him, kissing his neck.
"I didn't even know it could be like this," you admitted with an embarrassed laugh, but contrary to that, you didn't hear Gojo laughing - you looked at him worriedly and saw an anxious, wistful look. Your careless compliment reminded him of your agony. "Hey...," you began, but he playfully grabbed you, flopped you onto the pillows and plopped down beside you. "We...," you began perplexed, overcoming the awkwardness. "Um... We're not... gonna... continue?" you asked almost resentfully. Gojo had opened a new world to you, but you didn't realize that he had led you by the hand into his own where you were the only one who belonged.
Gojo raised himself on his elbow and leaned over you, rubbing his nose against yours and lightly touching your lips with his, stroking your belly. "Baby," he whispered, holding on to his vow - he promised to keep you safe. "Is that really what you want?" he couldn't restrain himself - he sought reassurance from you by any means necessary. You frowned and nodded stubbornly, making him chuckle sheepishly. "Then listen to me carefully," Gojo ordered sternly, squeezing your stomach slightly. "If you get scared, hurt, or you just don't feel like it, you have to tell me, okay? At any moment," you absent-mindedly bit your lip and wrinkled your nose, but he took your chin with his fingers and ordered you to answer with one look. "Promise me."
"I promise," you exhaled penitently, mesmerized by the restless blue eyes.
Gojo, already missed your kisses, covered your lips with his again - he nibbled gently, searching for any spot that brought you pleasure, that made you moan into his mouth, driving him crazy. Hovering over you, covering you from the world with his body, he kissed you briefly on the forehead and tilted his head slightly to look down - he almost burned his throat with his own breath when he saw your spread legs. With light touches of his fingers he stroked your lower abdomen, preparing you, but as he looked into your eyes, the sorcerer saw no fear or apprehension in them, only the infinite trust that you entrusted to him. "I'm gonna try to put one finger in, okay?"
"Okay," you sounded flustered, but pressed yourself harder against him, kissing his shoulder. After stroking your wet clit and getting an impatient moan from you, Gojo began to slowly put a finger into you - you shut your eyes and he stopped, seeing your jaw tense. "It's okay," you assured him, and Gojo, hesitating, continued - you were so warm inside, so tight and wet, that he, bashfully hiding his red face in your neck, began to pant.
He increased his pace, gently stroking the soft walls, trying to find the spot, and he nearly came when he heard your feverish whimpering. "Right there?" he asked excitedly, catching your moans with his lips. "Am I making you feel good?"
"Yes," you panted, grabbing his forearm, not to stop him, but to warn him not to stop. Hearing the long-awaited affirmation that flew from your lips, Gojo couldn't resist - he sank into your lips frantically, tasting your pleasure, and it was the sweetest he'd ever tasted in his life. Gojo pressed relentlessly against the spot, making you squirm, shaking you free of the last shackles of protection you'd built up over the years - your eyes darkening again with recklessness.
When you felt a second finger, you immediately grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked anxiously, almost panickedly, examining you from head to toe. "Does it hurt?"
"No, no, not at all," you shook your head nervously, and lifted up and began kissing his neck - Gojo gave in without a fight or objection, his head tilted back and his mouth open in pleasure. "I wanna feel ya inside me," you whispered in his ear, taking away what little sanity and self-control he had left. Whimpering painfully, he bit your lip and began to caress your tongue with his - you squeaked as he lifted you up sharply and pulled you against him. Something rustled beneath your ear, but you didn't dare open your eyes as he laid you back on the bed, and you felt something soft under your lower back - groping the pillow beneath it, you eyed him suspiciously.
"Why?" laughed Gojo, kissing your face. "We're not young anymore, I need to watch your back. In every sense," he chuckled, tickling your sides - you squirmed, trying not to laugh, and you both exhaled. "Are you ready?" he asked suddenly, laying on top of you, and you felt his hot, hard cock pressed against your thigh.
"Ready," you smiled, kissing his chin. Gojo put his hand under your head and cupped the back of it, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit - you let out a ragged breath as he began to enter you slowly. You closed your eyes shut, feeling the stinging sensation that was ready to burn you from the inside out - you realized your mistake as soon as Gojo stopped. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his worried blue eyes with tears in them, and you shook your head frantically, pulling him closer to you, begging him not to stop - he'd promised you wouldn't get hurt, and you believed him.
"Shh," Gojo whispered into your forehead, and he was ready to curse all the nonexistent gods for not bestowing him with the ability to take away other person's pain. "It's okay, baby," he soothed you as you sobbed into his shoulder. "Look at me," he pleaded, stroking your hair - you obediently pulled away. "It's okay. It's me. It's just me. It's your Toru, see?" under the vast blue skies that lurked in his eyes, your pain melted and stewed. You cried out quietly as he put his cock all the way in, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. "Let's stay like this for now," the sorcerer said, giving you time to adjust, stretching you from the inside. He listened to your every breath - at first your breathing was intermittent, wet, but the more he stroked your hips, the more frantically he covered your face and neck with soft kisses, the calmer it became.
"Ya can start moving," Gojo didn't hear the order in your voice, but your wish was his command. He began to penetrate into you slowly, watching you, protecting your pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders grew stronger and you whined and nestled against him, but you didn't even have the strength to kiss him - you moaned against each other's lips, and you leaned back on the pillows, lost, but he didn't want to let you go - he covered you with himself, kissing you uncontrollably, though you could barely respond. Your hips were touching, and he thrust into you gently, but deeply, so that you could feel everything he felt - the arousal was on the surface, and he wanted to reach your depths with his own.
"Toru," you whimpered, afraid of the nature of these feelings, afraid that you were experiencing lust instead of pain, and that it could be taken from you.
You clung to his back, to his show-white disheveled hair, and Gojo grabbed at you, pulling you by his waist, stroked your head, squeezed your breasts gently, pulling away from your lips only to press his lips brazenly into your neck and collarbones. "More," he moaned pathetically. "Say my name more," and you obeyed without orders, repeating his name like a mantra while Gojo went mad - the candles crackled mysteriously, protecting you, and the unfamiliar town, flinging blue smoke, painted your tenderness on the walls with a storm.
Unspeakable words lurked in your intertwined bodies, filled with each other - his life didn't depend on that embrace, but Gojo felt he would die if he let you go, and he clung with all his might to your vulnerability. His name on your lips was like the confession you were so afraid to utter, afraid for his life - the sorcerer was almost incoherent, oblivious to the world he lived in, for you were all that existed to him.
Gojo sucked in air through his teeth as you began to clench around him - he whined and reluctantly stopped, realizing he was on the edge. You, in exhaustion, didn't even realize it before he started stroking your clit with his thumb in feverish, gentle circles - you trembled, and he sobbed as he saw the dark lines begin to form all over your body. "Do you really feel that much for me?" whispered Gojo in your ear, whimpering.
"Yes," you replied tearfully to his question that had tormented his soul for several years - and if the sorcerer had once been convinced that he would spend his life here beside you, cherishing you, now he knew that he would follow you to your lands as well when your time came. "I feel it, Toru, I feel it," you cried, letting go of your essence, and it no longer dared to hurt you in his loving arms.
"My love," your neck was wet with his tears. "You're so beautiful," Gojo whispered, kissing feverishly the patterns the other world had drawn on you. He called your name with desperate, intermittent moans, feeling how close you were - the sorcerer began to penetrate you again, his thrust grew faster and messier, and as you pressed your legs around his hips, unwilling to let him go, he began to shake with you. "Cum with me," he whimpered. "Cum with me, please," Gojo begged, trying to catch your lips with his - he pulled you against him with such force that your ribs nearly crunched, and you both stiffened in the mute scream that froze between you. You danced sensuously with Gojo on the thin edge and fell over the it with him - he pulled you with him on purpose, to a place where no one would ever find you. His whole body shuddered, and he couldn't hold back his tears - Gojo sobbed shamelessly, silently against your neck, confessing his vulnerability while the storm outside the window sang northern songs to you both.
Returning from the heaven first, you stroked Gojo's trembling back, guarding his defencelessness as he left wet sloppy kisses on your neck. Your bodies were so close that you mistook the frantic pounding of the sorcerer's heartbeat for your own - it spread across your skin in desperate beats, making you snuggle against Gojo harder and feel more. "When did ya become a crybaby?" you asked softly, kissing his temple.
"I don't know," he exhaled convulsively, sniffing his nose. Gojo lifted himself up, brushing his nose against the tip of yours. "It's just that you're so beautiful," he said, covering your lips with gentle kisses.
"Mm-mm," you drawled playfully, giggling. "You said that a few minutes ago, when-" you shrieked as he started tickling you - an attempt to hide embarrassment lurked behind the sweet, little revenge. Returning to you, a wave of realization came over the sorcerer. He finally did it. You finally did it. You allowed him to get as close as you'd never allowed anyone else - thinking about it, he sniffed his nose again and burrowed into your neck. "I don't wanna ruin the moment, but can ya...," you started, and Gojo instantly lifted his head, blushing shyly - you were still involuntarily clenched around him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized frantically, slowly pulled his cock out - you cringed a little, for the sensitivity reminded you of itself with an unpleasant burning. "Sorry," he repeated more quietly, kissing your forehead. "How are you?" he asked suddenly restless, nuzzling your cheek. "Everything okay? Doesn't hurt anywhere?"
Your quiet, sincere laughter awakened your shared happiness. "I feel wonderful."
"Really?" Gojo chirped softly but happily, kissing your face shamelessly and laughing with you. "Then lie here for a second," the sorcerer said, standing up - you glanced at him, but when you saw his naked ass, you looked away at the shabby wallpaper with interest. You frowned, sitting up and cradling your knees against your chest as you heard him fidgeting about, digging and rattling dishes in the kitchen, turning on the water in the bathroom, and in the intervals of silence you heard him humming to himself. "Here I am!" he exclaimed, coming back. "Miss me already?" Gojo cooed, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. As he handed you glasses of water, you realized how thirsty you were.
"Ya brought... water?" you asked perplexed, dumbfounded.
"And a towel and clean panties," he announced cheekily, twirling your underwear on his finger. You looked away in confusion, sipping from your glass, but he moved closer to you and kissed the tip of your nose. "I just wanna take care of you," Gojo whispered, dispelling your doubts - even though no one had ever done this for you before, he was glad to be the first. "Here you go," he boasted proudly as you finished your water and set the glass aside. "Now...," he mumbled embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his head. "Can you spread your legs?"
You widened your eyes in surprise, feeling your cheeks burn - it didn't feel so sharp in the embrace of arousal. But you trusted Gojo, and with shame, but without question, you slowly spread your legs apart, hiding your face in your hands. He didn't laugh at you, didn't mock you, but slowly and gently wiped your wet thighs with a damp, warm towel. You hissed involuntarily as he tried to wipe your pussy clean of your shared mess - your clit was still too sensitive. "I know, baby. Just be patient for a little while," he whispered, encouraging you. When he finished cleaning you, Gojo put your underwear on you as carefully as he had taken it off you.
Wrapping his arms around your waist, he plopped you down on the bed, unceremoniously lay on top of you, and hid you under the covers. "That was... an interesting experience," you chuckled nervously, still in shock.
"Get used to it," Gojo murmured contentedly, making himself comfortable and resting his head on your bare chest, but despite his sleepy state, he remained awake. He was drawn to the spot between your collarbones, kissing it with excessive care, stroking it with his fingers, glancing furtively at you and pressing his lips together in resentment that you didn't understand his hints.
"Do ya want to see it?" you pity him, laughing when the sorcerer gave an overly dramatic sigh.
"I do!" replied Gojo quickly, almost desperately, cocking his head and looking at you expectantly.
The patterns that adorned your skin came to life - they crawled smoothly across your collarbones, reaching for each other, trying to join. When they came together right in the middle, Gojo gave a quiet, amazed gasp, revealing a small, black spot right between your collarbones. "Ya can kill me right now," you whispered, closing your eyes. "I won't be happier."
Despite your words, you weren't expecting a blade between your collarbones, but the kiss on your heart was far more deadly - it killed your doubts forever. "You will," Gojo objected stubbornly, rubbing the tip of his nose gently against the black spot. "And even then, I won't let anyone touch you."
It was caressing Gojo, rising to meet him with its little black tongues. Gojo pulled back a little, and slowly brought his finger to it, stroking it gently, as if the slightest touch could hurt you, but you breathed measuredly, calmly, lulled by the protection. The patterns wrapped around his skin, begging to stay, and the sorcerer could almost hear their desperate cry when he pulled his finger too far away - to where they could no longer reach him. "Mochi...," he began uncertainly, glaring spellbound as he connected with you. "Back then, at the first meeting, you said I killed him first. How did you know?"
"Because I saw it," you answered half honestly. You saw him frown his eyebrows. "Your director and Nathaniel kinda happened to be acquaintances, and Yaga asked for a little backup... Nathaniel told us, so we agreed. For money, of course," you clarified, chuckling awkwardly. "Besides, the director seemed like a man who could keep a secret. So he didn't tell anyone about us, after all."
"What an old geezer-"
You, laughing, pinched Gojo's shoulder softly. "But we didn't even do anything then - you were doing pretty well on your own. We just watched the show. But a deal's a deal, and as soon as it was over, I went back to Tokyo College for the money, and I ran into... you."
"So it was you...," he exhaled, seeing the light and finding himself back in the day where he had stood staring into the darkness after killing his best friend, searching for the enemy.
"Yeah," you said faintly. "It was me."
Gojo couldn't have predicted and laid out the cards of fate - neither of you knew what would have happened if you had shown up then, or if he had been the least bit more considerate. Maybe you would have become sworn enemies, or maybe you'd just lost a whole year - he didn't lament the lost time. All that mattered to him now was that you were together, in a small northern town, lying on a bed, drowning in each other. You were more vulnerable than ever in front of Gojo - as soon as he looked at the black spot, he covered it with his palm, and the black patterns, seeking the same caress, crawled between his fingers, wrapped around his hand. Let those who in bitter resentment or in sticky fear once called you heartless burn with wild fire - henceforth, protecting and defending, caring and cherishing, he will forever carry your heart in his.

[December 24, 2017, 08:34pm; Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture, Tokyo College]
You strolled leisurely along the towering stone fence, the long wall of one of Tokyo College's temples stretched out on the other side - you stayed as close to it as you could, trying to get away from the purple clouds that littered the evening blue sky under the overhanging roof. You looked around absent-mindedly, trying to find a clue that would lead you to Principal Yaga's office - you'd only been there once, and now you couldn't find your way out of the maze. Driven not by a noble goal, but by money, you continued to walk slowly but stubbornly, searching.
The dry, thin branches of the trees that had been lurking behind the stone fence began to peek out - you cringed as they imprinted themselves as shadows of bony hands on the college wall, trying to reach you. The wind made them rustle - when an unintelligible and mysterious whisper crept up the back of your neck, you thought about insisting on full payment in advance.
Tired after an exhausting day, you found solace in the usual child's play - you spotted a pebble in the road and started kicking it forward. When you could see a turn on the horizon, you left your mute companion and accelerated your steps.
"...trust?" you stopped just before the turn, hearing unfamiliar voices. You should have asked for help, for directions, but your policy was simple: don't show your face to anyone. As it turned out, you were already known to those who shouldn't know, and even though Nathaniel vouched for Principal Yaga as an old acquaintance, the other strangers from the jujutsu world weren't to be trusted.
You looked back - you'd already come a long way, exploring the area, and you had no desire to turn back. You leaned your shoulder against the wall, crossing your arms lazily over your chest, and waited for the strangers to talk.
"...your doing, too?" the second man's voice sounded less surprised than indignant. You could barely make out what they were talking about, but your innate curiosity played its part, and you involuntarily began to listen to the quiet conversation.
"It was," the first one laughed muffledly in response. You, sensing the tension, frowned - never after the raids had you had similar conversations, much less a similar atmosphere.
The more they spoke, the more you had to strain your hearing - the words grew more serious, colder and quieter. "...any last words?" you stared open-mouthed at the stone wall. Your heart was pounding as if this question was addressed to you. If you took a step forward, you could see the strangers, could catch a glimpse of the end of their story, but you were afraid to even take a breath.
"...I hate those monkeys," you squeezed your eyes shut as hard as you could, for the hoarse voice was fading before it reached you, but no matter how many words flew past you, you still couldn't think of them through the prism of sworn enemies. There was no swearing, no breaking of bones, no collapsing of surroundings, all of which reminded you of your quarrels with your sister. "...a heartfelt smile while living in this world."
"Suguru," you stunned when you heard the name - the first time it had come out of Director Yagi's mouth as he was filling you in. Dead silence wrapped around the dry branches, and they stopped rustling. There was only a brief whisper that you couldn't distinguish.
Hot blood rang in your ears, and you missed the last words. The wind picked up the fallen leaves, and they flew away, thudding against the stone walls. There was a sharp, sloppy sound, and that conversation was silenced forever. The man didn't torture his interlocutor, didn't mock him, only gave him a quick and, most likely, painless death as if it weren't a punishment, but a deliverance.
As an unwilling witness, you shifted your fingers awkwardly over your intertwined hands like you were on the field of vigilante justice - the revelations had never been meant for you, but you couldn't just cut them out of your memory. Biting your lip awkwardly, you stepped forward.
They sat across from each other, their backs against the wall - two mutilated men. One of them was limp, covered in blood, his dead face was hidden behind stained black hair and he seemed to have no arm, while the other, hiding his face in his palm, shuddered. Your heart was pierced with sympathy - even the kindest man wouldn't so grieve for an enemy. You were immediately ashamed of your behavior - the other man's sorrow made you retreat a step, and you were dazed when a dry branch crunched beneath you. There was no time to think.
"Shading."
The man was instantly in the place where the sound came from, right in front of you. And you caught your breath. Lies and pretense aside, you admitted it to yourself at once: he was beautiful. You stood mesmerized and breathless, watching him - his blue eyes, still full of sadness, scrutinized the walls of his home, and in the light of the sunset his feelings flashed in wet streaks on his pale cheeks. Everything but him blurred before your eyes - you lowered your hands and watched helplessly as he squatted down and took a broken branch and twirled it between his fingers. Frightened, you took a step back as carefully as you could, but you were still afraid to move, but it wasn't the exposure that you were afraid of. You were suddenly afraid that you would never see him again.
When he pulled himself up and stared at the road that had brought you there, you reached out involuntarily, imagining you were standing right in front of him. Your gaze focused on the way you were fixing the unruly white strands that fell over his eyes, but you frowned disappointedly, almost resentfully, sensing the distance between you. But even if you were destined to stay in different worlds, you couldn't deny yourself the small inner request to look at him one last time.
"Relocate."
***
Standing on the middle tier of the sloping roof with pointed edges, you didn't notice the devastation around you. You didn't see the broken concrete walls and cracks on them, irrevocably destroyed temples, the trees piled on top of each other and the splinters that scattered all over the Tokyo College grounds. You gazed desperately into the pink clouds, but all you could see behind them were twinkling stars, and for the first time you were disgusted by the sight of them. You turned your gaze again to the people below, far away from you, and they were all looking upward as one, their faces shining with hope and something elusive to you. You clenched and unclenched your fists with injustice, seeing how they were all mesmerized by the sight that was invisible to you.
You'd never wanted to be near a stranger, much less one who didn't know you existed, but here you were, trying to see what made the white-haired man smile so brightly, and you couldn't help but be angry with bewilderment as his body still shuddered in pain before your eyes. "Adoptee," Rachel called to you, climbing onto the roof, panting. "Did ya get the money?"
You didn't respond. You didn't care about the reward anymore, it had lost its value. The only thing that mattered to you now was the emotion this man could evoke. "Adoptee," Rachel muttered discontentedly, and walked over and shook you by the shoulder. "Uh-oh," she drawled warily, glancing at your profile - your eyes were completely black. "Come on, let's get out of here before you scare everyone away."
"Rach," you asked with hope in your voice, looking up again. "Do ya see anything?"
"The only thing I'd like to see right now is money," she snorted indignantly, tugging at your collar. "But apparently not today."
While your sister persisted in trying to get you out of there, you wanted to be in his world and see everything through his eyes. You felt like you'd been looking at the man forever, but even that wasn't enough - you needed the revelation that lay in his smile. You were unworthy to let the mystery open its veil and let you in, but you wanted to feel what he felt, and you didn't even realize how close you were to it, for the new emotions were so hot and fervent that they burned your gut for a moment, but even they couldn't answer your question - what was it that made him so happy that was hidden from your eyes?
That invisible blinding light made you want to cry, and you shifted your sparkling gaze from the sky to him one last time.
The answer was simple. The answer was one.
It clicked inside. And if you had been human, if you had held back that impulse, that feeling would have been yours forever, but by sharing a body with a creature that had no place in this small world, you'd exposed your one desire and let others feel it, trapping yourself.

next ⊳
#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jjk angst#gojo angst#gojo fluff#gojou saturo#gojou#gojou fluff#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#gojou x y/n#gojou x you#jjk gojou#satoru smut#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo smut
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( SHES JUST A LOOKALIKE ) 🪞 ² ˚ ༘ fluff + angst
୨୧ ‧ gojo couldn’t help but find traces of you sprinkled throughout the universe. nothing compares to the real you.

the moment your eyes laid upon her figure, you knew that she was just a lookalike.
beneath the canopy of time's silent gaze, the school courtyard laid waste to the test of time, a sacred script of whispered tales and fleeting moments. in this hallowed realm of echoes, you stood.
all her distinguishable characteristics were almost eerily a replica of your very own— from the way her physical features resembled yours to the way her mannerisms were very similar. the way she would hit her knee when she laughed, the way her eyes wandered whenever he was talking, even the way she zoned out and picked at her fingernails.
you felt as though you were gazing upon your own reflection in a one way mirror.
as destiny poised its quill, you, the unwilling muse to gojo’s romantic fantasies, saw the narrative taking shape, your heart attuned to the delicate rhythms of anticipation. the stage was set for the echoes of resemblance would pose a pattern for one white haired male.
the thought made you lightheartedly giggle. of course, it hurt to see the man you loved with a lookalike of you. seemingly a mirror of his past, it was almost as if he had attempted to replace you.
despite the cockiness that rang, the resemblance was ever so uncanny. every aspect that gojo claimed was ‘unique’ about you was represented in her own appearance.
geto had said it himself. gojo was trying to find traces of you in someone else.
and none of this was her fault. if anything, you felt bad for his current girlfriend. gojo was charismatic and charming, and you didn’t blame her for falling for him. gojo was the only one to take blame for the unfortunate circumstances.
you never wanted to end things in the first place. but gojo did because you two weren’t ‘working out’… perhaps it was something that you did wrong, or perhaps he had just fallen out of love. the idea went past you, whatever it was. as much as you attempted to wrap your head around his motivations, you could never quite pinpoint just what you did wrong.
you shook off your thoughts and let your gaze wander back to the couple, when you noticed gojo looking at you as well. it was the first time in months that the two of you had made proper eye contact, and you felt your heart drop.
he had this almost woeful look in his eyes as you two had a staredown across your college campus. a seldom glance he sent across the courtyard conveyed every emotion you needed to know. his girlfriend, who was previously talking, noticed that gojo wasn’t quite paying attention to her. she turned her head to see where he was looking which was when she spotted you.
of course, she knew all about you. gojo couldn’t stop himself from talking about you after all.
you were gojo’s first love. at family gatherings, you were the one his family would bring up before he had to remind them that you were gone.
how deeply upsetting it was for her to see the disappointment written across their faces once they realized who he had picked after you.
she knew that she was just your lookalike, and it was a matter of time before gojo would come to his senses and attempt to get you back.
you made eye contact with her and gave her a soft smile. almost as if to say ‘i’m sorry.’
she knew you had nothing to apologize for. it wasn’t your fault that gojo didn’t know how to cope with his own feelings. it was his own fault for that, but it was her fault for dating gojo while knowing that he didn’t truly love her. she was willing to go through that pain just for him.
but seeing how y/n and gojo looked at each other and the love that filled their eyes, she knew that she couldn’t compare.
she was on the outside of your story.
amidst the rustling leaves, her voice reached gojo, a fragile melody woven with a tinge of melancholy. "some stories," she mused, "unfold in the shadows of familiarity, don't they, satoru?"
eyes staring blankly, a silent and unspoken confession made its way to gojo’s ears. he didn’t need to ask what she had meant by that.
everyone knew that she was just your lookalike, even gojo.
“don’t lose her a second time.”
that was all she said, before standing up to walk away. no more words had to be said. gojo knew why she was walking away— because she was breaking up with him.
“for what it’s worth, i’m sorry.” gojo let out before his (now ex) girlfriend could leave.
“if you were sorry you wouldn’t have dated me with someone else in mind.” the girl stopped in her tracks, and turned around. a ghost of a smile graced her lips. her carefree shattered like fragile glass. “i’ve felt it all along—this charade we're living. it’s your past you're holding onto, not me.”
that was it. that was the end of their relationship. no tears, no yelling, just silence.
but she was right. gojo should’ve just faced his own feelings and not dragged someone else into his mess. all he could think about at that moment was the way you stood there under the light looking so ethereal, and he had made up his mind about one thing.
“hey y/n,”
your eyes trailed upwards to meet the face of the man who had consumed all of your mental space in the past year, the man who made you feel like a lovesick teenager. the same man who seemed as though he could never get rid of you.
a smile quirked its way to your features.
“so… i guess my best attempt at getting a replacement fell short, nothing compares to the real deal. how about we skip the charades and grab coffee sometime?”
a silent song rang across the courtyard, singing lyrics of a love that was always meant to be.

#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk gojo#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojou x y/n#gojou satoru x y/n
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mdni 18 +
tw / cw : smut smut smut ,, squirting , choking?¿ , gojo forgets a condom (stupid)
a/n : this wasn't the gojo smut i had ready but it is what I wrote up today sorry my luvs </3
Satoru lays gentle kisses on your shoulder, a mischievous smile plastered on his face as he goes. The sudden stretch from his girth knocks the air out of you. Feeling every vein and ridge as his length slides inside you.
His palms find a home on your hips, engulfing them so naturally; like they were made to be there. And he can't help but hiss every time you squeeze his dick. A telltale sign you want him too — as if he needs more fuel for his ego.
Pulling his cock all the way out, before plunging back in. Repeating his movements in a slow manner, never giving in to your whines and pleas. His hand runs along your back, gliding between your shoulder blades and up to the back of your neck. Shoving your face into the pillows. The groan he lets out is almost feral. His head falls back and his eyes roll, but he's quick in catching himself, bringing his orbs back down to where you both meet.
What a pretty sight, he thinks. Taking him so well, and already so messy for him. All for him. Slamming his hips against yours, watching the little jiggle of your ass. He can't help but move quicker. Propping a leg up, and gripping your neck a little tighter. He needs to go faster, harder — deeper.
He can't seem to peel his eyes away from your slick. How it coats his length, making it so easy for him to slide in however he pleases. Hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. Listening to your moans get louder and louder, sounding so desperate for him to let you cum. But he can't yet, no. You have to cum with him. You have to.
"Not yet, baby- fuck, not yet. Please." He groans.
You can only moan in response. Lashes grazing the sheets as little tears fall. Everything feels so good and Satoru's cock hits all the right places. Curving perfectly into your sweet spot. Prodding at it so diligently, how are you supposed to wait to cum?
And his pretty moans are no help either. Making your pussy flutter every time you hear them. Being the reason he's so whiny and loud. Letting out breathy groans every time he hears your sloppy pussy; every time he feels your drizzle of slick run down his balls.
Oh but when he props himself up on his feet, thrusting deeper into you, that little coil snaps. You're clawing at the sheets, crying out Satoru! Though, he doesn't stop — of course not. In fact, he just seems to get faster. Upping his pace. It all feels a little too much, especially when that funny feeling swirls around your stomach. You whine to him that you're gonna make a mess but it seems Satoru isn't listening. Too far gone, lost in you.
It's when you're squirting all over his length, his thighs and dripping down onto the sheets does he finally cum. His eyes rolling, and his hips stuttering. He's torn between continuing or basking in your warm walls. His mind hazy. Feeling your body twitch, and Satoru's length spurting out what's left to offer.
And after a few minutes he bears the question, "you're on birth control, right?"
You pause, "you didn't wear a condom?"
#☾ spirit writes ☽#— ⊰ sugar ⊱#gojou x reader#gojou x you#gojou x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader smut#jjk smut#— ⊰ with the stars ⊱
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