#is this too much angst? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sad-scarred-sassy · 2 months

Note

Please please please continue the one shot of Feyre and Tamlin meeting after she has the baby. It’s so beautiful and well written

Oh 🥹 thank you!! I wasn’t gonna continue it but since you asked so nicely… proceed at your own discretion.

// It’s a headcanon of mine that Feyre questions all her life choices after the whole pregnancy fiasco happens.

If you wanna read the first part here it is.

~~~~~~~

She had sworn she would not go back.

Somehow nobody had noticed her brief absence, not Azriel, not the wraiths, not even Rhys. Feyre had carried that secret for months with a small hint of shame, and a very weird sense of triumph.

What Rhys had noticed since then though, was the new barrier she had put up between them. For the first time, she no longer let him slip in and out of her mind at will. She no longer shared with him her deepest darkest secrets. She realized with a cold, sickening feeling, that he knew every miserable aspect of her life and psyche and she did not know him, not entirely.

It was a strange realization, Feyre truly felt alone for the first time in years. The whole deal of her pregnancy had acted as an eye opener for her and it didn’t help that she had just too much time to think. Feyre spent her days taking care of her toddler, a beautiful child that smiled at her and she could not, for the life of her, understand why she did not love him as she had been promised she would.

Feyre sighed, sitting next to Nyx’s crib. Rhysand was gone to the Hewn City for a meeting, leaving her alone with the baby. She tucked Nyx’s small wings correctly behind him as he slept. Logically, she knew she loved him, she could simply not reach the feeling, not yet.

“I will try” She said, a tear streaming down her face. “I swear”

When she had found out about the secret, she had been so hurt and mad, betrayed by her mate, her family, the ones who said they loved her. She had yelled at him, had demanded him to tell her why. Then, she had succumbed to Rhys’ explanation again. He had said he hadn’t wanted to worry her. At the time she had concluded that she was fine with the decision, she wanted Nyx, she would have done anything to keep him alive. But after he was born, when she had too much time to herself, her mind had started to unravel on her.

How many times had he decided something and made her believe she was the one on charge? Why hadn’t they ever talked about the awful things he had done to her when nobody was witnessing it? How much of anything he had told her was actually true? How much of her hatred towards her past friends had been fed to her? How much of her rivalry with her own sisters stemmed from what he wanted?

It was too much. It was suffocating.

She knew she had to talk to Rhys, he was her husband, her mate… her High Lord, but she was tired of hearing his excuses, she was tired of him pretending to adhere to her demands only to flip it to something he wanted. She was tired.

After tucking Nyx in his bed she grabbed a sketchbook and let her fingers do the talking.

She had seen him again after their brief encounter in the Spring Court. Helion had called for a High Lord meeting wanting to discuss the next steps at peace, and she had taken her ass to Dawn pretending she had any say on whatever was to be discussed. As much as she tried to believe it herself, the sheer reality of being nothing else but a puppet in her husband’s hands was so glaring she could not hide from it.

Even if she knew he loved her, she could see it in him. She could see the way he also valued what she could do for him, how she was useful, how keeping her in this illusion of power actually benefitted him. She knew he would do anything for her, unless doing it contradicted what he truly wanted. Whatever that was, she did not know. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Her chalk began tracing lines she had burned in her memory a long time ago. Strong jaw, deep set eyes with a hint of sadness in them, high cheekbones and plump lips. Long, silky hair that cascaded down his strong trapezius muscles.

She had studied him in the meeting, his green worn tunic, his old polished boots. He had informed everyone that the Spring Court was slowly healing. Beron had snorted and mocked the state of his manor, still in ruins. Tamlin simply watched him and said “I’m not living there anymore” and that was that.

Their eyes had locked for a fraction of a moment, he looked lonely and broken still, she averted her eyes before anyone noticed.

She did not know what she felt about him after all this time, after all was said and done. The things she had said to him were true, he had hurt her and she had destroyed all he was in return. It still didn’t feel right.

Did he see it in her? Just how lost and desolated she felt? How trapped she felt in her own chosen life, trapped to serve a purpose, serve like she had always done. He had trapped her once too, why did this feel different? Why did it matter? Why?

Why? Why? Why?

The question plagued her while she yanked the page from the sketchbook, and giving it one last glance, put it in the fire slowly, for it to be consumed and destroyed. She wished she could do that with all these thoughts, set them on fire and let them burn into nothing.

She would never go back to him, she could never go back to him anyway. She had a son now, she had a mate for life. He was the one who hurt her.

You hurt him too.

Yes, they had both destroyed each other. So why did she feel that unshakable need to see him again? Why couldn’t she just be content with her life? Why did she want to talk to him again? Why did she care about what he had to say? Did she need confirmation that he was the monster she believed him to be? Or did she want to think that at some point she did have something genuine, even if she thought she lost it forever? Did that make her feel better or worse? She didn’t know. She couldn’t, wouldn’t go back-

“I’ll take care of him tonight” Feyre almost jumped at the sound of her sister Elain’s words from behind her. She turned abruptly to see her knowing eyes studying her. “Go, do what you have to do” She said and Feyre felt her heart beating unnaturally fast in her chest.

“Elain” She said. “I don’t know what I have to do” She said.

“You want answers, right?” Elain cocked her head at her, seeing too much, too damn much. “Go seek them”

Seek the other side of the story. Seek the answers to her questions. Seek the clarity she so desperately needed, for better or worse.

So there she was standing again in the middle of the Spring forest, feeling like thief in the night, a witch to be caught and burned, waiting for him to sense her somehow. He didn’t disappoint, standing before her just minutes after, face open, arms slack at his sides.

“I-“ She said. “I wish to talk”

He gave her one nod and signaled her to follow him, which she did, slowly, keeping a distance.

To her utter surprise he led them into a small Spring town she hadn’t ever visited before. The night was quiet and she could see the smoke coming out of the chimneys of the small wisteria-covered cottages. He kept walking, turning to step towards a small stone cottage lit with fae lights and covered by vines and moss.

He pushed open the wooden door and let her inside, her eyes jumping to look at everything within, the small dinner table and two chairs with a bowl of uneaten stew on top of it. The small kitchen and cozy fireplace, the feeble stairs that led to a second floor where she could spy his bed. The arrangement of knives lying on the small worktable along with piles of documents and notes in the far back. The muddy boots in the corner. Feyre was stunned by what she concluded. He lived here.

“You-“ She couldn’t articulate her words. “Why?”

He understood the question. “If I was going to fix this court, I had to do it from the inside” He said moving to sit on the chair next to the dinner table.

“But you’re a High Lord” She said.

“I am” He said, eyes stern. “Do you want some stew?” He asked and she shook her head vigorously, he shook his hand and the stew disappeared. Her shock didn’t subside, even when she remembered just how close Tamlin had been with his subjects before, she would’ve never thought she would find him in a place like this. Then again, this wasn’t too far fetched for a male who had wanted to leave it all to write poetry while traveling around the world.

He watched her, studied her, then wet his lips and furrowed his brows.

“Why are you here, Feyre?” He asked genuinely.

“I wanted to ask you something” She said. “If you would give me your word and answer honestly” She heard herself say.

“I give you my word” He said solemnly. “Please-” He gestured to the other chair in front of him.

Feyre cautiously dragged her feet and sat down, utilizing the moment to arrange the question in her mind, picking at her nails in anxiety. He noticed.

“Why did you lock me up in the manor?” She asked in a blurt.

Tamlin’s fingers, which had been thrumming a pattern on the table stopped abruptly.

His throat bobbed as he took a fortifying breath.

“I was terrified of not being able to protect you, and seeing you die… again” He said so quietly she had to stop breathing to hear him correctly. “I acted on impulse, everything I did in that time was on impulse, I knew you were going to hate me and I still did it, I can’t justify it, I’m sorry” He said, eyes lifting to find hers.

“I had never felt so alone then” She said.

“I never wanted you to feel alone. I understand now that I could not give you the partnership you needed at that time” He began drumming his fingers again.

“You were broken, as I was too” She concluded, studying as his eyes lifted towards her for a second, only to drop as he gave her a small nod.

“What did she do to you there?” She whispered, Tamlin’s eyes shot to her in a panic.

“I-“ He said, sitting straight on his small chair. “That doesn’t matter”

“It does.” She said, placing both hands on the table facing him. “You never told me”

“It wasn’t worth discussing”

“It was, if we had maybe-“

“Maybe we would still be together?” Tamlin smiled a sad smile of disbelief. “He would have never allowed it, you know that” He said. Feyre closed her eyes. The control she had thought she possessed in her life had been an illusion and she knew it. She hated that he could tell, he could always tell and she was just too stubborn to admit it.

“I still want to know” She said again. “If you’re comfortable telling me”

He sighed, running a hand through his long hair. “She said she would kill you if I didn’t-” He said suddenly, then didn’t continue, choosing to look away from her.

“You never showed-“ She remembered all the times they had been intimate after it all happened. Why didn’t it ever cross her mind? “When we were together, I-“

“Being with you was like a salve for the horrible things that had been done” He said in a closed tone. “I thought it was the same for you”

The silence stretched for long moments before she spoke.

“I’m sorry”

He laughed humorlessly. “Please Feyre, don’t apologize to me. Especially not about that” He clenched his fist. “Especially when I did nothing when he-“ His eyes fell to the tattoo on her hand. “I wish I could have done more to save you… from all of us”

“I chose this life”

“You were thrust upon it”

“You still think of me as a helpless little thing” She clenched her fists.

“No, but you are young, and you have been through too much” He said.

She pressed her lips together, looking down at her manicured nails, the intricate tattoo that branded her… like a mare. She shook her head at that thought.

“Did you know I would fall for his… for his tricks?” She croaked. She couldn’t believe she was talking about Rhys in that way, but she couldn’t stop, the words were burning in her throat.

“I thought you were happy falling for them” He mumbled and she looked up at his empty eyes. “He was there when I couldn’t, after all” He took a breath. “I can’t blame him for setting to win over his mate”

“I’m not his property” She said.

“Aren’t you?” He glanced at her tattoo. She flinched.

“He loves me” She proclaimed with a sniff.

“He does” He moved his hand in a swipe and two cups of wine appeared on the table, along with a decanter. He began pouring the wine for himself, then for her. She placed the cup on her lips and took a sip. She would never say it out loud but she had missed the Spring rich and sweet wine, so different from the Night Court’s bitter undertones.

They sat there, drinking the wine, listening to the crack and sizzling of the fire. His green eyes fixed on it, the flame reflecting on them, hiding the emptiness within. She always thought they were very similar in some ways, maybe much of it was still true.

“The woman you loved died in that mountain” She said stiffly. “I think that was the toughest part, saying goodbye to her while seeing how you still searched for her when you looked at me” She took another sip. His gaze rose to meet hers.

“Is that what you think?” He cocked his head.

“It’s the truth”

“It’s bullshit”

“The woman I was before would have never done what she did to you, to your court, to your people” She placed the cup on the table forcefully.

“Perhaps, but she would be here now, asking me of all people to forgive her” He breathed a laugh, turning his whole body towards her. “You’re not ruined, Feyre” He said and she felt her eyes sting.

“I am. I said you were a monster, but I am one too”

“No, you are not”

“I am! Do you think I cared when I came here and destroyed this court? Do you think I cared when I sent your life to hell, sent the lives of innocents to hell? I didn’t care, I relished on it” She leaned forward as she spoke with bitterness.

He simply watched her, took his cup and downed the wine.

“I always knew what you were capable of” He said, staring at the fire on his side. “I never saw you as an innocent fawn, if that’s what you’re thinking” He mumbled, she noticed her fingers were trembling.

“You still trapped me so that I didn’t fight”

“Capable is not all-mighty” He said. Her stomach clenched so she took the cup in both her hands and drank its contents in one gulp.

“You didn’t see it coming, what I did when I came back”

“I didn’t see it coming because I didn’t think you wanted to do it, not because I didn’t think you could” He said pensively. “But I was clouded in my own delusion” He smiled sadly.

They stared at each other then for a long moment, before he leaned and poured them more wine.

“What will it take for you to be happy?” He asked suddenly, taking her by surprise.

“I was happy” She said, dragging the wine down her throat.

“Not anymore?” His eyes were pinned on her.

“I don’t know”

“You should be talking about this with him, not me”

“I know” They both took a sip of their wine at the same time, the silence stretching, the seat in her back digging into her, his eyes burning a hole through her. She could see now how time had also affected him, his eyes were empty but clear, for the first time since everything had happened, she could tell.

“Do you love him?” He asked with a strain in his voice, as if he did not want to know, but he had to ask anyway.

“I do” She said, the sad truth of the matter. “It’s not so simple, though”

“It is. You love him, he loves you, he’s your mate, it is simple” His gaze was vacant again, the words seeming to burn through him as he spoke them.

“Do you love me?” She heard herself ask. Why did she ask?

His eyes snapped to her like a whiplash. He didn’t say anything for a long moment as he studied her, then smiled bitterly.

“I guess I deserve it” He placed the cup on his lips, mumbling to himself.

“Deserve what?” She breathed.

“You, toying with me when you’re bored of him” He cocked his head at her. “I should have guessed that’s what my life would be like. Letting you toy with me and fucking relishing on it, relishing on the sight of you in that chair, tormenting me” He let his eyes travel down her body down, down, then up towards her face again.

“I’m not trying to torment you” She rasped.

“Hm” He took another sip. “Don’t worry about me. Your torment is the best thing that has happened to me in years” His eyes found hers and locked, vibrant green that exuded the power she had known, the power she had held in her hands once.

Her breath caught and she stared down at her wine.

“I should go” She said, she didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t leave now. She was not in the right mindset to be having this conversation, for him to be saying these things to her, to having him look at her the way he was. Her head was already pounding.

“I do” He said quietly, answering her last question just as she stood up to leave. “I always will. You know that” He said, his eyes were still fixed on her, that lupine gaze that hunted her features as a predator would its prey.

She nodded. “I should go” She repeated.

He nodded weakly. Her heart started beating faster and faster. She wasn’t sure why. “If you’re lonely” He stood up and towered above her. “I will never turn you down” His eyes fell to her mouth and she sucked a breath.

“He will kill you”

“Hopefully”

“Tamlin-“ She warned and he only closed his eyes momentarily, a small rumble in the back of his throat at the sound of his name on her lips.

“Go” He said, eyes still closed, fists still tightly clenched at his sides.

With a heaving chest she gathered herself, and with one last glance at the male before her, disappeared from his small, cozy home into the grand empty hall of her own.

She would never go back she said to herself. She would never go back.

#is this too much angst?#feylin #Tamlin is a certified pathetic loser and I love that for him #Feyre baby I’m sorry #this is toxic and I am fully aware #these are just the parasites in me writing this down #feylin one shot #pro tamlin #feyre archeron #anti rhysand #tagging it so they dont come for me #the one where Feyre’s frontal lobe closes and she questions everything

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y2kuromi · 6 months

Text

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !

contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.

his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.

there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.

his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory

“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.

“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.

classic gojo-sensei.

“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.

gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”

yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation

"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"

"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”

“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together

“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.

“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"

"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"

"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"

"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"

"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.

"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.

"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"

"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"

you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.

"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"

"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.

"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"

"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"

"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"

"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"

"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”

"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”

“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully

“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”

you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end

"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"

"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you

“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you

"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”

“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space

“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”

“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”

“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”

“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”

he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.

"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer

"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions

“i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"

"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"

it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down

"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved

you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.

he couldn’t help but feel out of place.

there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.

the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.

the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.

he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly

he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )

“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder

“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”

yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )

“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.

he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.

“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”

yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind

“it smells really good mrs. gojo�� yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.

“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”

“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”

“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”

no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently

“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be

“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”

yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.

“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”

you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted

growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him

“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”

“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head

“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”

you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.

“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”

“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually

“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”

“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger

“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”

“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.

“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”

“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”

“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”

“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”

“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”

“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.

he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles

“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”

“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”

“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”

satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor

“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”

your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes

“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”

you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.

“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”

“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”

“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”

“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”

“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”

he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.

“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.

“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”

“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”

“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.

satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself

it would be you before everything. it was you before everything

“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory

they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again

“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.

“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”

“like we did in our first year”

satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone

his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.

“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.

“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.

“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”

“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”

“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”

“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him

“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”

“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed

satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin

your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.

here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.