#ily 💘

[loveshotzz]

all i really want is you HAS ALTERED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY each chapter leaves me absolutely speechless and your writing is just so beautiful!! every fic you write is so flawless and i adore you so much!

do you want me to cry?! thank you so much 🥺 you’re the sweetest ever ♥️ (kissing you on the forehead if you want it 🥹)

[yourstorai]

Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals

Morad, trobi - cómo están?

6ix9ine - mala

4KEUS - o‘kartier c‘est la hess

ELAI - un me ty

Rema - trouble maker

[eimiiko]

make sure to take care of urself ;;; <3 sorry to hear ur having a tough time right now, just rmr everything ur feeling is temporary and one day u'll be feeling great, i'm sure of it!! manifesting good vibes ur way, u got this!!! <33

ANONNN THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥹💗 i’m crying rn thank you for being so kind 💕 your message made me so happy!! i hope you are doing greatt 🫶

[eoieopda]

me, writing another ambiguous ending:

you’re so right, though, this man was MADE for this trope. ugh. why does he live a world away from my brothers?? what good are they?? 😒

picturing him like this made me dizzy, so i had to force that visual on everyone else 😌

tysm for reading, bb!!!

<whispers in your ear> Cheol x Reader where he’s her brother’s friend? 🙏

the one with seungcheol and the ruse

pairing: choi seungcheol x jeon!reader summary: your knight’s shining armor is actually made flannel, but he gets the job done. cw: reader’s gender/sexuality are left up to interpretation, annoying ex, alcohol mention, the setting is a bar, wonwoo doesn’t actually appear but my girl lee youngji does (lmao) au: older brother’s best friend, fake dating (sort of) type: drabble (fluff-adjacent) rating: pg15 wc: 1.4 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

The similarities between you and your brother start and stop with genetic material. While you’d rather die than spend a Saturday night at home alone, Wonwoo would sooner drop dead than divorce himself from his PC just to leave his apartment. 

All things considered, it’s not much of a surprise when you roll up to the bar with your friends and find your brother’s there without him. Just the same, you’re not shocked when the cursory wave you give goes unnoticed; they’re all too busy guzzling shots to care who walks by.

All but one, that is.

The oldest, Seungcheol, lifts his pint glass in acknowledgment when he sees you come in from the cold. That gesture comes with a bonus in the form of a lazy half-smile, which almost has you tripping over your own feet. Now effectively tattooed on your brain, you still picture that lopsided grin while you cross the room to claim a booth.

Of the boys taking up space at the bar, Seungcheol is the closest to your brother — and, as a natural consequence, the closest to you. So, you tell yourself, it’s only natural that your focus keeps drifting in his way. More than that, it’s polite, checking in to make sure he’s having fun. 

Wonwoo would want that for him, after all.

Right?

More often than not, Seungcheol is too engrossed in his friends’ shenanigans to feel your casual — polite — gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. Even though he’s not looking in your direction, you find it hard to stop glancing in his. It can’t be helped; it’s always been this way. There’s only one conclusion left to draw: 

Choi Seungcheol was tailor-made to distract you.

First, it’s the fact that his hair is quite a bit longer now than when you saw him at your parents’ anniversary party a few weeks ago. The more you stare at those dark waves, the more you try to justify it to yourself. As far as you’ll admit, it has nothing whatsoever to do with how soft those tresses look; nor any desire you may or may not have to touch them and test your theory. 

No, you’re simply trying to determine what vitamins or supplements he takes to achieve that perfect shine — because whatever he’s doing is working.

When you stop gawking at his head, it’s his hands that trip you up. The way they grip Soonyoung’s biceps when the younger of the two starts wobbling, threatening to topple over onto a soju-sticky floor. The urge you feel to throw yourself at the ground and see who catches you is purely scientific, you tell yourself. 

Research.

If it’s not his body, it’s the sound he makes, laughing like a mad man with his whole chest. You have to peel your velcro gaze off of him to see what he’s laughing at: Kim Mingyu, who attempted to catch a tossed peanut in his mouth but ended up getting hit between the eyebrows.

You’d let yourself be pelted with peanuts if it made him laugh like that again — and, quite frankly, you have no excuses left to give about why that is.

Nine times out of ten, your friends are smirking when you finally turn back around because they know exactly where your eyes keep wandering — and to whom. They point out the way your cheeks and ears flame up. Each time they do, you blame it on the alcohol, though none of you believe it.

When you turn around for the tenth time, however,  they’re not smirking. Instead, they’re pushing their empty glasses your way.

“You’re on refill duty, aren’t you?” Youngji asks with a single eyebrow raised. 

You’re not, but she’s not blind. She knows how much you want to hover, and how desperately you need an excuse to do so.

Seungkwan, quick on the uptake, chugs what’s left of his cocktail. His face is still twisted from the sour syrup when he waves his now-empty glass in front of you. He says nothing, but he doesn’t have to; his narrowed eyes are menacing, and they tell you everything he’s thinking.

You sigh, put-upon, even though everyone knows you aren’t. Lips pursed tight, you keep that giddy grin to yourself as you collect the glasses and skip off towards the bar.

After giving your orders to the bartender, you glance — for the millionth time — over to your brother’s friends. The one you’re looking for is nowhere to be seen. Bravely, you do your best not to pout.

“Hey,” comes a low voice from behind you.

It’s a miracle that your head doesn’t roll with how quickly you swivel around. 

As soon as you do, your face falls. The excited flip in your stomach is swiftly replaced by a wave of nausea. Your tone is clipped and drenched in disappointment when you respond: “Can I help you?”

Your ex never could take a hint. They breeze right past that deadly look on your face, sidle up next to you at the bar until their shoulder is damn near bumping into yours. Worse, they open their mouth to speak again.

“Haven’t seen you around much lately —”

Is that not the point of breaking up with someone?

Desperate, your eyes scan the room for anyone who might notice the giant, neon exclamation point flashing above your head. Nobody you stare pointedly at feels your gaze on them, so you switch targets — again, again, again. Your brother’s friends are equally as useless as your own, it seems.

What if you tap “SOS” in morse code?

“— I’ve missed you. Missed us.”

Shit. 

Why didn’t you learn morse code?

You’re ready to sprint headlong out of the bar entirely when an arm — thankfully not your ex’s — drapes around your shoulders. With a quick glance up, you confirm that there’s truth to the meme: not all heroes wear capes. 

As it turns out, some heroes wear flannels, and they accessorize them with jaws clenched tightly enough to crack teeth.

“Jagi, who’s this?” 

Seungcheol’s posture relaxes just a little when he looks down at you. You swallow and keep your swooning to a minimum. There’s sweetness dripping from his tone that you want to bathe in. 

“I thought I’d met all your friends by now.”

When you let him pull you closer to his side — so close that your head can rest against his goddamn pectoral — you tell yourself that it’s just part of the bit. The affectionate smile he sends your way is part of the ruse. He’s convincing, though; you’d fall for this con, too.

You and your moon-sized eyes begrudgingly shift focus from Seungcheol to your ex, who still hasn’t taken the hint. That lovesick smile of yours is gone in an instant, giving way to the flattest affect you can muster. The sugar-laced voice you speak with is a far cry from the unblinking and unapologetic expression on your face. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t recall your name! What was it?”

Suddenly, Seungcheol unwraps his arm from around you. He seems to sense that this change-up startles you, so he winks at you while he leaning forward into the space between you and your ex; hands reaching for the drinks you’ve been waiting on.

Oh, you realize. He’s making sure you get the last word.

You swallow thickly as you reach out to take your burden off his hands. He shakes his head and beckons you with a smile, eyes softening. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ve got these.”

You do as he says, following close behind him like a puppy, and you only stop when he does. Seungcheol looks back over his shoulder, calling out first to the bartender: 

“Can you put these on my tab? The name’s Choi.”

Then, dropping all pretense of friendliness, to your ex:

“Get home safe, eh, chingu?”

When you both resume your path to your table, you squeeze his elbow and whisper, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he urges, shaking his head a second time. Although he’s smiling, there’s some unspoken conflict in his eyes that you can’t quite parse. You can’t ask after it, either, because he stops stalling and sighs, “That’s what pseudo-brothers are for, right?”

[loversmore]

RED VELVET ♡ Midnight Signals

[ariseur]

✧˖° - haven’t posted in little over a month so i decided to show you guys i’m still alive by posting this random nanami thing i wrote even though it’ll only get like 12 likes 😭 i just had an idea and went with it lol

your lashes barely flutter open as you struggle with the journey of trying to stay awake, at least until the midwife had come back from rinsing and checking on your newborn.

swollen eyes dart over to kento, who stays admiring you with a comforting hand resting on your own clammy, sweaty palm. he almost huffs at the situation when he looks at your tired smile; you don’t even know how fast he urged ijichi to drive back here.

he returns the gesture with his own soft quirk of his lips, a genuine gesture that only you were privy to seeing. you observe his face, seeing the soft wrinkles that are slowly starting to settle in despite only being in his early thirties. this job really does age you, you think — and you can tell that he thinks the same thing.

“can you believe it?” your voice comes out raspy, torn from all of the yelling and gritting of your teeth only an hour or so earlier. it feels surreal to believe you’ve born life into this world, forever a permanent mark it’ll make of you.

“hm?” kento hums, hazel eyes trained on your legs which are currently sheathed under the salmon colored sheet that covers the hospital bed, though you’re pretty sure he’s just zoned out.

“you’re a dad,” you add. he doesn’t say anything to that, only giving a small nod at your statement.

his thumb runs along the bones of your own, the metal of his rings warmed from the constant contact you two have maintained. you frown at the red marks on his hand, presumably from all the squeezing you had done to him — although, he did take it like a champ, not even wincing. he’d never tell you he just had to toughen up for you, internally crying at the tightness he had endured from his fingers. he shouldn’t have expected any less from a sorcerer, though.

“you’re a mother,” he finally looks up at you. you can swear you see a slight gloss forming in his eyes.

you grinned. “so, all those jokes gojo used to make in our third year ended up being correct.” even with such low energy, you were never so serious. though, he had always loved that about you.

“i had always known i was going to marry you, gojo had no part in it,” he responds coolly.

lips parting in a small ‘o’ of surprise, you look back at him before your shock wears off and is instead replaced with a brash grin.

“such big talk for someone who didn’t ask me out until we had already left.”

“i, at least, had gathered the courage to talk to you,” kento hums, “unlike a certain someone.”

you huff and lean back against the pillows, your head lolling against the plushness of the one right under your neck whilst you looked up at the florescent lights flickering above you. “i could talk to you,” you mutter a weak rebuttal — letting your eyes rest shut only in anticipation that you’d see nanami’s unenthused ‘really?’ face.

“i don’t recall that ever happening,” he scoffs fondly at you.

“i just gave birth and you’re already teasing me.”

“is it really teasing if you know it’s true?”

your lips purse into a soft pout, sighing through your nose as you look away to the heart monitor as you hear the quiet, steady beeps that come along with your deep breaths.

“you do remember what happened that one time we visited gojo’s dorm, right?” his smile only widened by the moment. you held an arm over your face with a small groan, wincing at the aching feeling that had settled into your lower abdomen. “you mean when he had just gotten done flaunting his new console?”

“yes,” he hums. “with all of the others.”

you frown a bit at the mention of, “the others,” — thinking of the times when it would just be you and your friends and letting your mind drift off into the pool of memories that used to surround you in your highschool years.

-

“c’monn, nanami will be there,” you had heard gojo’s voice ring throughout your ear canal, flinching away when you realized he was behind you.

scoffing, you stuffed your hands in the pockets of your uniform before continuing to walk forward. “what about it?”

a lanky, rich polyester clad leg comes into your view. you let out a small groan when he had stopped you, once again.

“don’t think i don’t see the way you look at our blonde haired friend over there.”

“i don’t look at—“

gojo pressed a finger to your lips with a loud bundle of shushes, closing his eyes behind the cerulean lenses that framed his sharp nose. your eyebrows furrow — opening your mouth to speak again before he beats you to it.

“i got you, i’ll be the best wingman a lady like you could ever ask for,” he grins.

“gojo, i don’t need—“ although, your voice was but a meek mutter to his ears whilst he sauntered away, back to find shoko in hopes of annoying her once more ( it wasn’t the first time, and it would definitely not be the last ).

and between those next few hours, you somehow ended up sitting against the tatami mats of gojo’s dorm, well decorated and lightly colored. it was fitting for him, you think back to it now. your knees tucked to your chest as you listened to utahime complain about how annoying the missions she’s being sent on are.

“why can’t we get another vacation? i hate having to go through all of these assignments all the time,” she muttered; her head leaning against the cushion couch.

“life of a sorcerer,” you chuckle.

“you’re not even an official sorcerer yet.”

“neither are you, ‘hime.”

“touché,” she scoffed.

the small moment is interrupted by suguru’s voice wavering as he leans from side to side, trying to focus on not getting hit with a bombshell in mario kart on the new snes gojo had bought. you look at him, smiling at the way the snow-haired man kept trying to bump into him to make him lose. you could swear you heard shoko yell out a few words to try and mess the both of them up, to which they’d whine when one of them would inevitable fall over the edge ( it was always gojo ).

your eyes would only drift when you heard shuffling beside you, catching an eyeful of blond and a familiar head of a brown bowl-cut, too.

it blurs now, the memory.

and it is soon interrupted by the soft calls that leaves kento’s lips, the reverie soon seeping back into the vault of your brain once you meet honeyed eyes with a pair of your own.

you can feel his pulse in his fingertips as he squeezes against your hand, the warmth seeping in his words as it pumped along his veins — his only fuel after a life like this.

your lips part in thought before you hear a soft knock at the door and a voice excusing their interruption, the both of your heads immediately perking up towards the door. a small gasp leaves you once you see the small bundle that the midwife holds in her arms; sheathed, chubby little arms wriggling around within the blanket.

kento’s breaths come out shaky, although he tries to focus his energy into his fingers, balling up the rough material of his pants in his sweaty palms.

a fresh wave of tears wavers at your lash line, threatening to spill along the warmth of your cheeks. a soft coo’s emitted from the bundle as you finally see the face of your newborn son, painted with serenity as his eyes stay shut.

a small patch of slicked hair lays atop the baby’s smooth head, lightly colored with the hue of your own strands. “congratulations,” you hear the midwife tell you, “did you have a name in mind?”

the sight of her figure remains blurred with your own tears, but you’re sure she’s smiling with the tone of her voice. you reciprocate it, using one hand to wipe at your puffy eyes while the other beckons the woman to lend your baby over.

and once she finally does, it’s like a breath of fresh, new air. seeing the little face that belongs to the being in your arms, feeling his warmth through the blanket, seeing his tiny little fingers aimlessly reaching out in front of him. you choke back the urge to let out a sob.

surprisingly, kento does it for you.

it’s soft, barely audible — you wouldn’t have even noticed it if it wasn’t for the sharp gasp that left him afterwards. your hand finds his again, the way it always did. the way it always will.

his head comes into view as he peers down at the baby, scooting right next to you as he sees you thumb at your son’s cheek.

your brain warps with a golden memory at the front of it, a sweet smile paired with a peculiarly put together uniform — brown hair in your focused view while you heard another familiar voice behind him. the same monotonous inflection he had used, always contrasting with his friend.

you smile fondly, looking up at kento. “i like yuu for him, don’t you?”

hazel eyes flit up to meet yours, hooded and crinkled with the years of work he’s been put through. they sheen in the light ( you fight the urge to ask if he’s crying, you know the answer anyway ), glossed over with dilated pupils.

his cheeks hurt. he grins back at you softly, and then looks up at the expectant nurse.

𐙚 comment to join the taglist; @ch3rryfiles @sad-darksoul @kasumitenbaz

𐙚 requests are open — october 2, 2024

[heartorbit]

mafuyu commission! 🍎

[fireworksgalaxy]

♡ for @raplinenthusiasts 💐 cr. namuspromised.

[shinixgami]

𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖍𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖊

[mblue-art]

heyyyyy sliding into your ask box just to say a snippet of a thought

imagine if lust learned your language fot you, just think about how much he could use that against you and how he'd call you soft nicknames like mahal o bitwin? -from your local country hiiiii!!

a,,,,ANON.........HIII TY FOR CRUMBS BUT ALSO

anon iam goign two cry my heart will burst (/pos) if he finds the time to learn my language and does all that i

o(-< 💘💘💘

[creampz]

TUMBLRINA: VEGAS !!!?

twenty1, choso's forever girl, half writer half troll

✩ ‧ ˚. — main blog for my writing @/screampied | this space is mostly used for follows, sending asks, shitposts, etc. no writing here just vibes n reblogs >.<

[liketheletter-l]

Hi!!!! Just wanted to say ur little jester Totally not leo guy is so silly and fun he gives me so much cuteness aggression I need to crumple him into a ball and chew on the porcelain shards. Okay bye hope ur having a good time

Yes you should do all of that please break him into tiny little pieces it'll be good for him!!

it's his fault i bought CMYK markers and stayed up way too goddamn late about these 💔

[yourstorai]

yeah I’m obsessed with you and check your blog every day

hehehe same girl 🤭

[wikitpowers]

someone probably asked this before, but what's your top 5 tsc books, characters and ships? have a great dayy <3

OOOH NO DON'T ASK ME FOR FAVS OR I WILL ACTUALLY COMBUST THIS IS TOO HARD !!!

but okay,,, let me think oof let's go (i'm stressed)

my top 5 books are probably:

lady midnight

city of glass

city of heavenly fire

clockwork angel

queen of air and darkness

my top 5 characters (why are u doing this to me):

KIT HERONDALE (are we surprised?)

ty blackthorn

jem carstairs

magnus bane

emma carstairs

AND dru blackthorn (my beloved❤️‍🔥) -> i genuinely refuse to not put her on the list (and ik for a fact she will become even cooler in twp and i’ll fall apart)

my fav 5 (kill me) ships are:

KITTY (<3)

malec

blackstairs

herongraystairs

morgenthorn (i need to add them bc i know they will eat up that enemies-to-lovers plotline)

[loversmore]

“You asked me to join the team because you were concerned Mudmee would have to work alone. And then you were worried when she lifted heavy things and asked how she’d get home. You’re nice. That’s why I wanted to help you.” MY LOVE MIX-UP!, episode 02

[ariseur]

ok i saw you wanted some requests so im here to give you an idea!! im really angst about gojo right now and i need an angst fic. (spoilers for the manga)

ok so: gojo x reader but readers cursed technique is to be able to see into the future (but they can’t do anything about it or talk about it) and they get a vision of the gojo vs. sukuna fight and what happens. they get all upset about it and cling to gojo, trying to get him not to go. (established relationship pls����🏻)

sorry for the drabble, i’ve been aching for someone to write this haha

HOLD ME ( TIGHTER THAN YOU EVER WILL ) - SATORU GOJO

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - i’m not gonna lie anon, i just finished the manga and i fell to my knees when i saw this request. ilysm for this but you are EVIL ( kiss me rn thank you for providing me with this angst )

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - spoilers for jujutsu kaisen manga chpts 222 - 236, character death ( canon ), weirdly descriptive mentions of you choking back words ( like that feeling you get when you’re trying not to cry and it feels like there’s barbed wire in your throat😭 ), gojo calls you “my girl” twice so fem!reader in mind when writing this, i didn’t really describe it as much of a technique i mainly kept it like you were seeing visions since i didn’t know how to correlate the ct i’m sorry!!, intended lowercase, hope you guys enjoy 😚💕!!

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ word count - 1654 words, 9068 characterss

“satoru.”

gojo turned around, his footsteps coming to a halt down the hallway of the infirmary. his face tipped towards you, cocking a bit as he let out a low hum of question.

upon seeing his face, your stomach clenched; a deep regret swirling in your abdomen. with a look at his face, your bottom lip quivered with furrowed brows. he stood there, trying to decipher your expression as he awaited an answer. his eyes, narrowed with confidence stood out on display rather than shielded from his blindfold. there was nothing left to hide now, not his strength and not his arrogance. you remembered how you had always begged him to take it off at least once, just so you could see his pretty eyes.

and now looking back retrospectively, it didn’t matter. those visions you saw, how real they felt. they couldn’t have been dreams, they always haunted you as they showed up everywhere. your eyes fell to satoru’s pink lips, pressed together in confusion before another thought intruded your head — another sight to behold as you felt like gagging upon remembering his bruised face, the blood spouting out from his mouth tainting his lips.

“i just,” you swallowed thickly, “i don’t think it’s a good idea to do this just yet.”

he sighed, giving one shake of his head before he stepped forward towards you. your head hung low, your words choked at the back of your throat as they threatened to escape their enclosure behind your uvula. “megumi’s in danger, people are watchin’ — i can’t postpone it, baby, you know that.” his hand placed itself on your shoulder, softly rubbing against the fabric of your shirt where the seams met.

“i’m not saying that— i just mean,” you closed your eyes, letting out a quiet, shaky breath. you recalled the conversation that happened not too long ago, back with ijichi and shoko. lamenting with all the memories back in your youth, along with reminiscing over everything that’s happened. shibuya, megumi’s possession, okkotsu’s return. everybody who’s died, it haunted you like no other knowing there was nothing you could do to prevent it; kugisaki, nanami, all those lives dealt a bad hand at their dreadful end. even yuuji itadori, someone so young being used so carelessly.

“damn, so it’s just the four of us left.” gojo’s voice had echoed throughout the room of your previous conversation. your head tipping back against the cold lockers as you stood in the corner, the scent of tobacco wafting in the air and seeping in through your nostrils from shoko’s cigarette whilst she stood not even a few feet away from you.

“well, there’s still also that idiot.” she huffed, transparent smoke slipping out in thin shapes from past her lips.

being around her for so long, the smell became indelible in your brain, your senses immediately causing you to retrace back to ieiri’s bad habit. even now, as you stood in front of your beloved — even as his distant musk flew up to your head as it had just barely intoxicated you, the smell of cigarettes and menthol was still unforgettable. you remembered the scratch in your throat as you hummed in agreement, your voice uneasy and raspy from misuse as gojo looked back up at shoko. “. . that’s true.”

eyes fluttering closed, you let out a small huff as you heard ijichi debriefing about something related to nanami, not that you could pay attention anyways. the voices and the images and the downright fuckery that went on in your brain was too loud for you to focus on anything else, including satoru’s face right in front of yours as you stopped recalling the transpired events as your head bowed down even further.

“look at me,” you heard him say. he gave your shoulders a gentle shake as his hand snaked up from your arm to your chin, trying to redirect your attention back to him no matter how much your head resisted. “where’s my girl at? don’t be shy, jus’ talk to me.”

your eyebrows crinkled as they met in the middle, the slight bit of skin creasing at contact when you finally looked up at him. his lashes ridged around his upper eyelids, pupils gazing ever so delicately as they softened at the sight of you. his thumb turned to face vertically, grazing your lip as he cocked his head; and then, he smiled. what once was so comforting long ago, where you two would spend mornings lazing around in bed as you’d forget about the first years, forget about yaga, forget about responsibilities. it was like you were in that high school bliss again, unable to care about anything more than the person right in front of you — even if they were drooling all over your arm. his smile, canines on display, only made you feel sicker about what you knew.

he pulled you into his chest slowly ( giving you enough time to thrash out of his embrace and tell him to knock it off, even if it’d hurt his pride a bit ) and as he rested his chin on you, he mumbled against your ear, “you can cry it out, you know.”

“‘m not crying.” you smacked his shoulder, pulling away as you sniffled — an obviously very convincing sign of totally not getting upset.

he snorted, “okay ma’am, don’t need the attitude — i’m just saying you can if you needed to.” he kept you at an arms length before he tilted your chin up again, causing you to roll your eyes and give him a sharp huff.

“gojo—!” you heard from around the corner. a high, stern voice interrupting the small bickering back and forth between you two. his hand faltered on your face, his thumb no longer brushing your cheek as your body tilted to the side only to find utahime walking in your line of sight. her eyebrows raised at the two of you, her mouth quirking to the side in shock as she sputtered, “not to ruin the moment but,” she shrugged slightly; a way of telling you indirectly, ‘it’s time.’

“few more minutes ‘hime, and i’ll be out.” he called out singsonging along as she walked away.

“don’t call me that,” she repeated in the same cadence, her voice collecting more distance the further she retreated — allowing you guys to have a moment before they prepare to go out.

satoru turned back towards you, his smirk growing wider as you looked away, your hand grabbing the one glued to your faced as you savored the warmth in between his fingers. “ah, there she is,” he teased, “my girl.”

“‘toru?”

he hummed, his hands squeezing yours. your eyes zipped up to his. “please,” you pouted at him, “be careful, yeah?”

he laughed as he shook his head in amusement. taking a few steps back, he extended both of your arms before ceremoniously letting go. “i think it’ll be okay — i am the strongest, after all,” gojo chuckled.

you managed a meager, bittersweet smile as you let out a wry laugh. no matter what kind of sounds left your lips, he always relished in them knowing only he could pull them out of you. whether it’s a small laugh, a full on abundance of giggles, whimpers along with your squirming about that he’d always tease you for; satoru never failed to appreciate them. even your groans of discomfort when he’d piss you off, all it took was some sweet talking and a trail of kisses along your jaw and he’d bounce back all sunshine and rainbows.

it wasn’t your voice or your body ( although those were major bonuses, might he have added ), and it wasn’t even the way you’d purse your lips to stop an embarrassed smile from painting itself on your face whenever he would make a stupid joke ( another thing he had loved about you ) — it was the fact that you saw him. he wasn’t the strongest when he was with you — he was ‘toru, only satoru.

he began to walk away, his shoes tapping against the hard floors as you watched his white robe flow behind him. you swallowed back a small whine at the back of your throat as you watched him leave; his hand about to slide the double doors open until you called for him once more. “satoru—?”

“huh?” he let out an airy laugh, mixed in with the syllable.

you put a hand on your hip, swallowing to try and moisten your dry throat. you let out an awkward laugh, “i love you — so much.”

gojo put a hand to his mouth before sending it off with you as he blew you a dramatic air kiss. “i love you, always.”

and with that, he turned away; the door sliding open with a satisfying sound before it closed behind him. left alone, with your thoughts only growing louder. you couldn’t help but scrunch your eyes shut, your hand clutching your head as your fingers buried themselves under your hair.

behind that door, gojo stood as he took a deep breath. he had burned your face into his memory, his brain fading back into images of your eyes — so piercing, always searching into his own, whether that was for the better or worst remained unknown in both his and your mind. as always, you had come, you had seen, and you had loved.

as he walked out to where utahime and gakuganji were waiting, he couldn’t help but think about you. satoru gojo could be held down by anybody, with all of their might — and be stabbed with sharpest of swords and the strongest of curses, but he’d never stop loving you. because you had never stopped loving him. satoru gojo had never stopped being seen by you; for he wasn’t the strongest, merely satoru.

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