#jjk writing event

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Ohhh this event sounds so cute!!! I'd like to request September, Choso for my character, and red asters (September birth flower) ohh and can I do my birthday as the special event?! It's September 22. It can be nsfw, but I'm fine with just sfw/fluff because he's such a sweetie;3

Hello lovely! Yes we can do Choso for your birthday hon. And a choice for SFW or NSFW...hehe let's see what I'll do.

[madaqueue]

EPISODE 3: A TASTE OF HONEY IN DEFEAT

satoru thought he would have no problem winning a bet he proposed, but a month is too long to go without a taste of anything this sweet.

themes/content: smut. edging, handjobs, mean-ish dom!reader, satoru being whiney lmao, premature ejaculation + he cums inside, light bondage (satoru receiving). (wk: 2.1k)

a/n: this is part of @luv-lies no-nut-november collab!!! so excited to have been a part of this, hope you all enjoy >:3

“You know I trust you, but don’t you think the ropes are a bit much?” Satoru giggles as you tighten the final knot around his wrists, shoulders bulging and arms stretched overhead.

“I know you trust me - it’s you I’m worried about, ‘Toru.”

“What, worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off you?” The smirk painting his features veers into a grimace as he winces, straining against the tightening rope.

“No. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep your hands off yourself.”

Pink lips draw into a pout. “Aw c’mon, you know I’ll be good! I’m the one who made this bet in the first place, remember?”

You hum as you tug his hands down, testing the strength of the woven cerulean adorning his skin. The headboard shakes with the movement.

“And yet, you were so willing to break the rules.”

It had been quite a sight, truly - your dear Satoru, splayed across the bed, whimpers and moans falling from his lips like honeyed rain. They landed heavy in your ears, sticky and sweet. When the door creaked open, he made no effort to stop the fervent motions of his fist up and down his cock. He was flushed from head to toe, too lost in his own pleasure to recognize the sound of your footsteps approaching. It was only when your hand rested atop his that he jerked up, clouded eyes turning apologetic.

“I know I wasn’t supposed to, I know, I just couldn’t wait-” he had babbled.

“It’s okay,” you purred, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “But you knew the deal, remember? I’m the only one allowed to touch you this month, right, Satoru?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry-”

“And how close you were to cumming, too.”

“I wasn’t going to, I swear-”

You hummed and squeezed his base, earning a gasp. “You know it’s not good to lie, either. Remember, you made this bet, sweetheart. Were you really so willing to throw it all away? To lose?”

“I wasn’t going to lose, I promise, I just needed something-”

He was getting worked up, panicked thoughts racing through his mind. He braced on his forearms to sit up, but with a purposeful push you guided him back onto the sheets.

“It’s okay, my love. If my poor baby is so needy, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you something.”

His eyes widened when you pulled the ropes from under the bed, eyeing him like your next meal, a starving predator ready to pounce. And here was your prey, so ready for the taking, offering himself to you as a good piece of meat should.

And now, he’s tied up like one, too.

“I wasn’t even going to break the rules,” he whines impatiently.

Sitting back, you admire your work: your strong, determined Satoru spread and waiting. Trailing a finger down his stomach, his skin burns hot in its wake.

“That’s certainly not what it looked like to me.”

“I-”

“Because to me, it looked like you couldn’t handle going even a month without touching this needy little cock of yours.”

He pouts. “I’m not little,” he huffs.

A giggle bubbles from the back of your throat, bouncing past your lips.

“And besides, I can handle it, I swear! I made it almost the whole month, I did, I just-”

Tilting your head, you gaze down at him. “What, got too desperate? Poor Satoru, ‘The Strongest,’ couldn’t even follow the rules of a bet he made?”

Blue flashes against white as he rolls his eyes. One hand ruffles his hair, cooing down at him.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll make you beg to break this silly little bet of yours.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs, hiding the way pink creeps up his neck and decorates his cheeks, stained like flower petals. He’s soft like them, too.

A light chuckle lands in the air when your palm grazes up his length. He twitches in your hold, warm skin on warm skin.

“H-hah, see?” His mouth hangs open between the words. “Told you I could handle it.”

It’s gentle touches at first, to ease him into it: slow strokes, light fingers. And yet, he’s still wrapping his throat around whimpers.

“Aw baby, I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Your lips curl into a smile, breath hot behind them. The words come out syrupy, dripping in sugar (and Satoru has always had a sweet tooth). His stomach aches in hunger - hunger for your hands, your body, your control. Whatever you plan to do to him, he’ll swallow it whole, bigger and bigger bites until his cheeks swell and all he can taste is you.

The grip around his base tightens, running up and down. Something about your skin is so much softer than his, untainted by the cruelty he lives through, only dirtied by desire. It spreads over his skin, glistening white and sticky.

When whines begin to twist through the silence, his eyelashes fluttering to bat away the impending tears, he doesn’t have to say it - he’s close.

Just as his muscles begin to tense, you rip your hand away.

There’s a choked little cry he lets out, hurt like an animal you spared from death. One that was ready for it, for the warmth and comfort it provided.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is strained already, a high-pitched draw across his vocal cords. His eyes are sparkling and wet.

A peck to his cheek sends shivers down his spine. “Because you’re not supposed to finish, remember, silly? I’m just helping you hold up your end of the bet, after all.”

A sound like untuned violins, haunting and beautiful all the same, plays from his throat. You giggle at the music.

“C’mon, Toru - you wanted this, remember?”

“I know,” he grumbles, scrunching his nose. “Fine, fine, do whatever you want.”

You smile.

(You would have anyways)

Your gaze falls upon the aquamarine rope, the matching eyes, before trailing back down his steadying chest.

It stutters when your fingers trace up the veins of his cock.

It heaves when you cup a palm around his balls.

You squeeze.

“F-fuck,” he groans, hips lifting off the bed.

There’s a word living at the tip of his tongue, its shape burning into his mouth.

Harder.

Luckily, you know your Satoru - you know what he thinks, feels, wants. And as a lover should, you happily oblige.

The sound he makes is garbled and choked, utter nonsense. It came straight from the depths of his body, a pure animalistic response, one he couldn’t have controlled if he tried.

Already, he’s beginning to tremble in your palm - it’s getting easier to do this, make him shake like a lost leaf floating through the autumn air, held captive by the gusts of your wind. Up and down, he travels with you, because of you.

Again, you pull your hand away.

Again, he whines.

“Noooo,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. It was automatic, the expression of displeasure, ripped from him with the loss of your warmth on his.

“What’s wrong baby? You want me to stop?” It’s more fun when he has an out, when he could say no and chooses not to. When he wants this just as badly as you. “You know you-”

“No.” It's more breath than sound. “No, please. Keep going.”

And as a lover should, you happily oblige.

Precum drips down his length, covering him in remnants of desire. They cling to his skin like silky webs, woven from devotion and need. Each slick pump of your hand up and down creates more and more and more, a beautiful pearl at his slit forming one moment only to be spread by your circling thumb in the next.

Each time you reach his base, you squeeze. Each time you reach his tip, you twist. In this dance you both twirl and breathe and feel in beat, holding on to one another with sweaty hands and tired muscles.

“Remember, you can give up whenever you want,” you coo, the sweet glue of a trap.

But Satoru doesn’t dare taste, doesn’t dare step inside - he knows better.

(Right?)

“I’m not - fuck - giving up.” He tries to throw you a smile, but it lands at your feet.

Fists clench into each other, nails digging into his palms. You almost feel bad, the way he’s beginning to writhe within the ropes. It must hurt, you think, the texture soft but never soft enough - it’s nothing compared to you. In spite of his anguish, he knows better than to give up this easily. You haven’t even really begun, not yet.

When his eyelashes flutter closed, you know to pull your hand away.

He’s getting more subtle, the only sign of his impending pleasure a soft flicker of white and blue. But you recognize it, of course - his pleasure lives everywhere in him. In the way his breath catches, in the way his skin burns hot, in the way he gets all too loud or all too quiet.

There’s barely a sound this time. Instead, he just frowns, displeasure spreading across his sweet features. His lower lip sticks out, and he stares at you with cloudy eyes.

“I know, baby, I know. But this is what it takes if you want to win.”

The words don’t ease the growing ache in his core, but your voice does. Every vowel blurs the pain, every consonant gives him something to cling to. He’ll climb himself out of insanity on your breath.

Again, you wrap around him and drag him closer to the edge. Unable to pull his gaze away, he stares down it, looming, waiting. The free fall must feel nice, the wind against his skin, for a moment before he hits the ground. But with a firm hand on the back of his head, you just hold him there. It’ll be his choice whether he decides to jump. Or rather, when he decides to jump.

Another choked groan leaks from his lips when you pause. There are no words left for him to say, nothing but the agony of desire. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if it’ll make the leap any less tempting.

Hushed whispers, not quite praise, tingle his mind. Little hums of “I know,” or “there, there,” dance from your throat, and he writhes.

Distress always looked so pretty on him. Pretty tears, pretty red cheeks, pretty pouts and pretty cries. Perhaps it’s a curse that he looks like a fallen angel when he weeps - if he looked more grotesque, you wouldn’t feel the urge to bring him back into the jaws of pain.

But he lets you comfort him nonetheless, preen his wings and kiss his tears.

This time, when you stop, he thrashes. His skin burns, crisp like it had been warmed by the sun for too long. Everything is too tight, his hands, his arms, his shoulders, his stomach. They need to be loosened; they need to be released.

“Please.”

It’s so quiet, it’s almost not a word, just little sounds from his tongue.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Tears stream from glossy eyes when he looks at you. His lips quiver as he speaks.

“Please, I wanna cum. Please.”

The smile spreading across your face is cold and knowing; he looks beautiful as he falls.

“I know you want to, but-”

“I lose.” He’s panting, gasping through the plea. “I lose, I give up, I don’t care, just, please.”

Hot tears melt beneath your thumb as you swipe them away. His mouth hangs open, as though he could swallow the air, hold it inside him and let that ease the aching. But the only thing that can help him now is you, the only thing he can stomach.

“Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

A loose smile flows across his face, easy like gentle waves lapping at the corners of his thoughts. The sentence itself barely makes sense to him at this point, garbled in his lust-clouded mind. But he knows you’ll help him now; he welcomes the push over the edge.

Straddling his lap, you guide him to your entrance. Sticky and hot, he presses into you. Just as his tip enters your warmth, he hurls himself into the wind.

Everything in his body trembles, muscles tightening and contracting out of time. Eyelashes flutter, whimpers dance like petals as he comes undone.

The only thing he can do is twitch inside of you, pearly strings pulsing with each erratic breath.

Finally, he opens his eyes to find you smiling. Warm lips press along his cheeks, dried tears salty on your tongue.

“Well, you certainly lost this time,” you hum, resting your forehead against his; he looks at you like you created the earth itself, your breath in the wind and your heartbeat in the sun. “But there’s always next year, right?”

[lees-chaotic-brain]

careless whisper by george michael , gojo , angst

WC: 2k

CW: cheating, angst, hurt/no comfort, reader has female pronouns (referred to as madam and birthday girl), alcohol consumption (all characters are of age), swearing

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to the event taglist): @chosolovers @ssetsuka @ichikanu

listen to this while reading

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For one night, one night alone you were going to put all of your suspicions and past hurt aside and enjoy the party. After all, it was your birthday so the night was supposed to be all about you.

Shooting a smile at your boyfriend across the room you can't help but feel your stomach flutter as he shoots you a wink and begins making his way through the crowd towards you. Stopping in front of you he sweeps forward in an exaggerated bow, extending his arm.

“Madam Birthday Girl, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Laughing at his antics, you relax, reassured by his usual behavior. Of course everything was normal between the two of you. You were just being paranoid. Placing your hand in his, you allowed him to escort you onto the dance floor.

I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor

Wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying slowly to the music you rested your face against his chest and enjoyed the peace of the moment. Or, at least you tried to.

As soon as your nose brushed his blue button up your senses were invaded with some sort of expensive oriental perfume, meant to be subtle with rose and jasmine. But judging from the way your nose burned, whoever had been wearing it must have been wearing a whole bottle for the residual left on his clothes to be so strong. Nothing like the one or two spritzes of understated wildflower perfumes you preferred. 

Fighting the urge to gag at the overpowering scent, you looked up over his shoulder in an attempt to get some fresh air. Instead you were confronted by lipstick stains on the edge of his collar. Bright pink lipstick stains, which couldn’t possibly be yours, because you would never wear a color that garish. 

Suddenly you no longer felt like dancing, and as the song’s outro played you decided to give him one more chance to explain himself after the party. If he couldn’t do that, then the two of you were done. Looking up into his eyes you gave him a forced smile, a small part of you screaming that this was going to be the last time the two of you danced like this.

As the music dies, something in your eyes

Calls to mind a silver screen

And all its sad good-byes

After the song ended Gojo watched you walk away, unsettled by the finality in your eyes. Had you figured it out? Did you know where he had been before the party? Who was he kidding of course you had. As much as the two of you had danced around the obvious truth for months he knew that you knew. He had fallen in love with your quick wits and intelligence. There was no way you hadn’t put two and two together.

But despite forgotten dates, the nights he came home late or not at all, the perfume that wasn’t yours clinging to his skin, he dared to hope that you would just keep pretending not to know. That things could stay the way they were. If only you weren’t so smart.

Though it's easy to pretend

I know you're not a fool

Walking across the room you mingled with the guests, accepting birthday wishes and engaging in small talk. Heading over to the bar, you got a refill on your drink and leaned against the bar sipping it. You heaved a sigh, wishing the entire thing was over and that you could just go home. A large warm hand placed on your shoulder interrupted your stewing, causing you to turn around.

“Oh! Geto! Hi! I wasn’t expecting you to come. How are you?” You were surprised to see none other than your boyfriend’s best friend, Geto Suguru. The large man chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly at your surprise.

“Sorry, I was in the area and decided to drop by. I’m doing okay, but actually I’m here to ask you that. I’m really sorry about what Satoru did. It was fucked up. How are you doing with the breakup? I may be his best friend but just know that I’m always here for you-”

“Wait, what? The breakup?” You were confused. You hadn’t even told your best friends about your plans to confront Satoru, seeing as you had only made up your mind a few minutes ago.  “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean?’ We had a conversation and Satoru promised me-” Realization lit up in his dark eyes. “He didn’t do it, did he? Oh that son of a-” He stops, looking at you guiltily.

“Listen, I’m really sorry. You should hear it from him. I gotta go now.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut.

From across the room, Gojo watched his friend leave, knowing that whatever had just happened between the two of you could not not have been good. Not wanting to obsess over what Suguru could have said, he turned away and jumped into a conversation. Whatever was said had been said already. There was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

Time can never mend

The careless whispers of a good friend

If he had watched a few seconds longer he would have seen you shake yourself then chase after his friend, looking for answers. Darting around guests and avoiding dancing couples you caught up to Geto just outside of the building.

“Wait!” You yelled, hurrying to catch up with him. “You can’t just leave like that! I need to know what you mean.”

Not turning, Geto shook his head. “Trust me on this one. You don’t want to know. Let him tell you. I’ll make sure he does, but you shouldn’t hear this from me.”

“I’m pretty sure I already know.” The words fly out of your mouth before you could stop them. “He’s cheating on me, right? Listen, I need to know. I’m probably going to break up with him tonight. So it doesn’t matter anyways. Just tell me.”

Rubbing his face with one hand he sighed and chuckled without humor. “Of course you know. Jesus this whole situation is so fucked up.” He turned around and looked at you properly.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit. This might take a little while.”

To the heart and mind

Ignorance is kind

Geto had left a couple of minutes ago, leaving you sitting on a sidewalk bench organizing your thoughts. Fighting the urge to cry, you were unsure why the pain in your chest was so sharp. You had been almost positive, he was cheating on you, so why did it hurt so bad to have your suspicions confirmed? It wasn’t like the knowledge was anything new to you.

Maybe it was because you now knew that the woman was the daughter of a wealthy family close to the Gojos. Maybe it was because you knew that it had been going on for months, and when Geto found out he had made Satoru promise to either end things with the other girl or break up with you. Maybe it was knowing that after making that promise Geto had found him with the other woman again, leading him to assume Satoru had broken up with you. 

Whatever it was, it fucking hurt. Letting out a small sob, you clutched your chest feeling your heart break. Unable to stop the tears from spilling over your waterline you opened your phone and texted him that you knew before you could back out.

But as you wiped your face and headed back to the party because you would be damned if you let him ruin your night, a small part of you wished you hadn’t discovered the truth.

There's no comfort in the truth

Pain is all you'll find

After receiving your text, Satoru watched the entrance intensely, waiting for you to return. The second you step through the door he locks eyes with you, gesturing towards the outside, mouthing that he wanted to talk.

Instead of turning around and walking back outside so the two of you could talk like he had expected, you just strolled into the party and joined a group of your friends. Whipping out his phone, he tried to send you a text, only to discover that he had been blocked.

Then the panic set in as he started trying to make his way towards you. But at that moment a popular song came on over the speakers, and the crowd became rowdy, making it impossible for him to get to you. It was like the crowd was against him, pushing him back towards the edge of the dance floor instead of across it to where you were.

Didn’t they understand that he needed to get to you? That he need to explain himself? He wishes the crowd would just disappear. That it was just you and him, with nothing else in the way.

Tonight the music seems so loud

I wish that we could lose this crowd

As he continues to scan the crowd for you, he finally catches sight of you dancing with your friends, laughing and singing along to the song. Shouting your name, he waves frantically, but the venom in your eyes when they meet his make his voice die out. 

Maybe it was for the better that the two of you didn’t talk right then. You didn’t seem like you were in a place where you would be able to talk reasonably. Turning, he decided to head out for the night and give you the space you so clearly needed. He would just talk to you tomorrow.

Maybe it's better this way

We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say

The next day when he went to your place to talk, Satoru was greeted by a box of all of his things sitting outside of your apartment and a post-it note declaring that the two of you were over. And despite all of his screaming and pleading and banging on the door, you didn’t come out that day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Now it’s been months, and he’s given up on winning you back. It’s clear you have no interest in hearing him out. And in those three months he had come to realize just how much you had meant to him. You were his better half, the one he truly loved. The other woman he had cheated on you with couldn’t hold a candle to you. 

If only he hadn’t been such an idiot. Maybe if he hadn’t been so conceited and cocky he would have seen the value in what the two of you shared and the two of you would still be together. Maybe the two of you would have spent the rest of your lives in happiness together. But that’s not what happened, and now he was all alone. 

We could have lived this dance forever

But now, who's gonna dance with me?

Years had passed, and he was still alone. At first he had tried dating to get over you, but after realizing that the first girl had a similar smile to you, the second had the same shade eyes as you, the third your hair color, he stopped. 

It didn’t matter how hard he subconsciously tried to find girls to replace you. None of them were ever going to be you. And the guilt he harbored over the way he treated you would follow him into the grave. He lost the best thing that ever happened to him. There was no recovering from that.

And I'm never gonna dance again

Guilty feet have got no rhythm

Note: to the people who asked to be tagged on the poll, i haven't added you to my event taglist yet, it was just for this fiic dw. however if you would like to be added, let me know!!

[libraryofolive]

libraryofolive's spooky section!

It's Halloween Week, which means one thing - celebrations! And in this library, that means 10 drabbles (one for each character in the smau line up!) all about celebrating Halloween with our favourite JJK characters, and a special Halloween SMAU dropping on the day itself!

party time! with Satoru Gojo | You, the trophy wife of the infamous Satoru Gojo, decide to spend your October planning a no expenses spared party to celebrate the holiday. What could go wrong?

candy please! with Suguru Geto | You and your husband decided to take your twin daughters trick or treating for the first time.

to the left a bit - the other left! with Kento Nanami | You and your fiancée have just moved in together, and what better way to celebrate than by decorating your now shared home for the spooky season?

sit still! with Choso Kamo | it's Choso's first time celebrating Halloween, so of course you'll help him with the intricate make up his costume needs.

they shall feel my wrath! with Ryomen Sukuna | Sukuna is 'too old' to celebrate Halloween, until some teenagers egg your house - suddenly, some Halloween mischief seems right up his alley.

stab it harder! with Toji Fushiguro | As an assassin, Toji's skills with a knife are off the charts - until it comes to carving pumpkins, apparently.

don't stand too close! with Hiromi Higuruma | Bundled up in your warmest coats, wrapped tightly in a knitted scarves and hats, you and your husband decide to spend your Halloween at a local bonfire together. How adorable... right?

i'll protect you, i promise! with Takuma Ino | Your boyfriend convinces you to go to a scare maze with him, albeit tentatively. He promises to protect you from all of the scary actors, which will definitely end well.

damn, we look good! with Shiu Kong | Who knew deciding on a couple's costume would be such a faff? Certainly not you and your handler-turned-boyfriend. But one thing was agreed - no matter what you both wore, you'd both look good together.

what's your favourite scary movie? with Shoko Ieri | A quiet night in was all your wonderful girlfriend wanted this Halloween, but you simply had to put a spooky spin on it! A scary movie night commenced, you reassuring Shoko you can handle a scary movie or two. You definitely can handle them, you think.

trick or treat! smau with everyone | In true Halloween spirit, you give your partner a choice, trick or treat. The treat? A more risqué photo of yourself. The trick? You'll just have to wait and see.

[thedivineden]

Thin Ice

Summer Olympics Collab w/ @tetzoro

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: smut

words: 5k+

notes: dubcon, enemies, breeding, jujitsu kaisen au!figure skaters, slight mentions of sexual harassment from Gojo, obsession, controlling behaviors, jealousy, drugging, peer pressure, slight manipulation,

AN: I had so much fun writing this, you should see the notes I scribbled at work because we’re not allowed to have our phones! Thank you so much @tetzoro for allowing me to be apart of this lovely event. ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊

You and Gojo Satoru have been competing against each other since the day you were placed in the same class at nine years old. He was favored due to his family standing within the figure skating community but you had raw, unfiltered talent which shook him and his family to their core. Despite all your talent, he’s managed to win almost every single competition. You’d bet big money that it had to do with his family status but you don’t upset the balance until you’re both picked for the Olympics.

And boy were you fuming. “I ALONE have went through hell and back to be where I am whereas he gets placed just because of his family name! It’s preposterous Shoko!” you’ve been ranting to your coach for an hour about the competition; how you didn’t believe that he deserved to be here and wish you didn’t have to compete along side him. “That spoiled brat doesn’t have a INCH of talent in his bones even if it was injected with a needle!”

“Aw do you really hate me that much? I thought we were friends?” You turn to the door to see the lanky white haired man standing against its frame smiling down at you. “Friends? Satoru please, you know I never enjoyed your company now leave. I’m having a discussion with MY coach or are you wanting to take her away from me too?” Shoko stifled a small laugh and stood up. “Gojo, don’t stress my prodigy out. What do you want?”

Gojo never took his eyes off of you; he saw your annoyance as just another game. You roll your eyes and say, "Well, I was just coming to check on my favorite figure skater but I don't think she was to see me." Despite your request to go, Gojo slips into your room and envelops you in his arms. "I'll break all ten of your toes in five seconds if you don't get off of me."

Gojo chuckles at what you've said because he adores your fierce personality and is confident that you will follow through. You lost a tournament at 15 after he "jokingly" slapped your behind for taking first place and your only recourse was to throw your ice skate at him. His parents complained to the judges and got you disqualified.

You were more concerned about scuffing your brand-new Eden Piano ice skates than you were about the blade nearly striking him. You could feel his breath on your ear as he said, "Aw, must you struggle so much, you know you love it, and I know you love me, why don't we meet up later? My room?” You're furious now and shove him away from you. You're about to charge at him when Shoko, sporting her signature side grin, stands in between the two of you.

“Shall we maintain the calm? Alright, sweetie?” The man behind her laughs audibly, saying, "Yeah, sweetie! Let's maintain harmony.” Even though you were angry, you wouldn't allow him or anybody else to sour your mood. "Shoko, you're right; I won't have to deal with him for very long. After the Olympics, I'm heading to Brazil, and I have no intention of returning to Tokyo.” That touched a nerve; your coach's gasp indicates to Gojo that she was equally clueless. You had no idea that your remark had the man fuming.

You? Leaving? The young man finds just such idea absurd. Ever since he first saw you in class, you have been everything to him. You were not impressed with Gojo's antics, even if he is accustomed to getting his way. No matter how many pranks and tricks he performed or how many gifts he put in your locker, his efforts were consistently disregarded.

The man continued to essentially harass you every day despite your denial. He would make harsh remarks about your body, clearly taking care to point out that you are curvier than all the other figure skaters in the class or that your ass is "so massive that you might tip over," which would ultimately be the undoing of you. You could not care less, and all he wanted was the thrill of having your undivided attention.

Gojo needed and desired you more than anything else, and this only made his fixation worse. Without saying anything more, the young man left the room, leaving Shoko to ask all the relevant questions and provide the information later. He's going to make sure that you remember him forever.

It took hours for the two of you to be back together again. You were seated close to each other for the opening ceremony. The opening ceremony typically features the entrances of the head of state or other official of the host nation as well as the president of the International Olympic Committee. The national anthem and flag are then raised and played. Then the tournament started.

You have a strong passion for figure skating, and when you're on the ice, it feels remote. Nothing could distract you from your quest for excellence in each trick, flip, and turn. Everyone in the stadium is quiet, appreciating your stunning appearance and captivating performance. Your candid feelings convey a tale of bereavement.

You jump off the backward outside edge on one foot, using your toe pick to help you get airborne, then use your other leg to reach across your body and back to pick into the ice. Gojo is an enormous admirer of your performances and would do anything to spend time on the ice with you.

You were actually quite flexible, as required by the biellmann spin. You spin on one foot, stretching the other leg behind you and above your head to make the shape of a teardrop, and Gojo is staring at you in astonishment. You release your leg and step off the ice again. You can turn the odds in your favor with just your pure resolve.

You release everything forward, shift your entire weight on your takeoff left leg, raise your arms, and release your right leg back at the same moment of takeoff. At first, it looks like a typical axel leap, but in order to complete the trick, you have to make four and a half rotations in the air. When you land perfect, everyone in the stadium goes crazy. Gojo was aware of the announcers' adoration for your flawless quadruple axel.

Interviewers are waiting in line to chat with Japan's figure skating prodigy as soon as you step off the ice. Gojo heard all of the inquiries: "Wow, it was incredible! "How long have you been practicing your quadruple axel?" "How long have you been training?" and "Do you ever see yourself performing routines in pairs with?" You were brisk even off the rink, graciously and enthusiastically responding to every inquiry.

Gojo is the next to go, but not before he interacts with you. "Looks like you're going for the gold, but we all know who's really taking it home." Your smile quickly disappears and is replaced by a frown. "If you already know you're the winner why are you trying so hard to convince yourself that I'm not?" You grin again and walk past the gaunt man before he can respond, heading toward Shoko.

God, you made him so hard.

Despite what you previously stated, Gojo is without a doubt the greatest for Japan, and his mesmerizing methods are hard to ignore. Every now and then, Gojo stretches out his palm and takes a tiny step forward, sliding across the icy rink with effortless ease. Not long after he picks up speed, he throws his right leg over his head and balances on his left foot. He spread his arms, almost making a T or possibly a K. Gojo never fails to demonstrate to his own nation and the rest of the world that he was a showman in addition to a prodigy.

He swung his body in fluid motions, bending his knees. He was able to move down the rink more quickly and farther as soon as both of his skates were facing in the same direction and parallel to one another. Watch as the man launches himself and lands on the back outside edge of the opposing foot. You see him use his free leg to assist with the takeoff. Gojo starts off across the rink once more; he has the appearance of a swan on a quest. Despite his solemn expression, he manages to pique the audience's interest by molding his face to suit his intended message.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a tap from another skater. "Hi!"You're — correct? The most beautiful man you have ever seen is revealed when you turn around. "Yes I am and you are?" Your smile was enough to break any man's heart, and it certainly broke Gojo's. His eyes caught you talking to the low-level figure skater during his back bend. To get your attention, Gojo slowly lifts his body upward while making sure to circle close to you.

You paid no attention to anything, not even when the crowd chanted his name. He saw you gazing passionately at the man, touching him, and grinning during his performance. He'll make sure that everyone is aware of your connection. Interviewers swarm Gojo as he emerges from the ice, asking him questions about the tournament, his emotions, whether he predicted Japan would win, and what he loves best about the Olympics.

He took great pleasure in watching you, even though you were hostile toward you. He enjoys watching you on the ice and knows that all of these eyes will be able to see and appreciate your beauty and brilliance, even if that's not a suitable answer to the question. “I had fun watching my girlfriend accomplish a quadruple axel on the ice, going above and beyond the norm!” The interviewers are going crazy over the exclusive insider information that Japan's Olympic candidates are a couple! “I'm very proud of her!”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Could you two come on my show to give more information about your relationship and experience in the competitive skating world?”

“Do you plan on marrying her?”

Gojo has a broad smile, but it widens when he notices you approaching from the corner of his eye. He ensured that there would be enough disturbance to draw in people from a 50-mile radius. He quickly puts his arm around your waist to hold you close once you are arms length apart.

He undoubtedly knows that you are extremely conscious of your appearance and would never intentionally make a fool of yourself in front of thousands of people. "Hello my darling, don't you want to tell them about how our love blossomed?" Even though you're terrified, you swiftly avert the interviewers' attention to the man by saying that he always tells story better than you. He makes fun of you and tells a made-up tale of jealousy, hate, and love. Gojo lets the interviewer know that you two are deeply in love, plan to be married, and want to start a family.

He knows when you get uncomfortable in his arms and knows it's time to finish the interview and express gratitude for the interviewers' time. Curses fly from your mouths towards Gojo the moment you two are out of earshot. You attempt to escape his hold, but it's firm and powerful, and he won't let go until he proves that you are his.

Because he would be pressed for time, he had everything set up before the competition day. After his performance, he asked to have a car ready for him so he could take you to the Olympic village, to his room, and finally to his bed. You sound even more enraged now that you're practically yelling at him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why in the hell would you tell them that?”

"I just want you to realize how much I adore you, now hush and enjoy." Gojo hurries you into the back of the tinted Range Rover, entering on the left side. He signals the driver to shorten the route and closes the partition — his hand finds contact too high on your thigh and his look is exceedingly strained. "I'm not your enemy but you treat me like one, why?"

You chuckle and roll your eyes at his assertion, "You've been tormenting me since we were seven, and you think I have no reason to want you away from me?" When you look at him, his expression is one of perplexity. Torment? I used to put gifts in your locker, and from what I remember, you threw them out." Your face flushed from the accusation. "Well, I'd have kept them if you hadn't said anything about my physique. "Everyday, you said something demeaning which encouraged other people to say hurtful things. Now you all are in my shadow, I’m winning the gold ."

You turned to face Gojo and said this with the biggest smile on your face, but as soon as you saw the tear streaming down his hot cheeks, your smile fades. "What's wrong, you?" Even with a hint of worry in your voice, your countenance suggests dissatisfaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize, but I'd like another chance." In all honesty, Gojo doesn't give a damn about earning your favor. All he wants is what any man would want.

To win.

Gojo makes sure to be the ultimate gentleman as he ushers you out promptly as the car arrives at the village. When he offers his hand to help you out of the car and opens the compound door for you, he can see you're nervous and cautious because you pause. To be honest, you felt anxious at every turn, and when Gojo came up behind you, his arm clasped tightly around your waist. You didn't know why you two were at the compound without your coaches, or what he wanted, but you weren't enjoying it.

When he arrives at his room, he stops at the entrance and looks at you intently. "I set everything up for you because I want you to know how special you've been to me," he says as he opens the door. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla greets you, along with the sight of candles and petals scattered on the corridor floor. Gojo releases his hold on you as his hand travels to your lower back and softly presses you inside his room.

Although your instincts are going haywire, the environment appears in the opposite way. When you step fully into his room the corridor floor is only the tip of the iceberg. Gojo, rather, the person he hired to arrange the space, created a lavish pallet on the floor and surrounded it with a heart made of flowers. accompanied by a bouquet of flowers and a selection of finger appetizers. There are images of you from previous competitions, including ones where you lost, hanging on the walls with the term winner printed on them.

"Do you Iike it?" The pleasure on his face is palpable. In a normal situation, you would do anything to erase Gojo Satoru’s smile, but right now, it would be bittersweet. The amount of work he put in is both sweet and a little alarming, given that several of the images on display were taken when he was alone himself in the booth. You feel the silence begin to take on an unsettling note, so you turn to nod your head at the man, a small grin on your lips.

“Sit down, try the foods. I’ll be back with drinks!” Gojo disappears down the corridor and out the room door leaving you and your rapid heart alone. Thoughts were swirling in your head.

You could just leave.

What does all of this mean? I mean he did give you gifts when you were kids but you just chalked it up to him trying to buy you and throw you off your game.

Does he actually like you? Could it have been your announcement about you leaving?

You sit down on the pallet allowing your weak legs to rest and distract yourself with the white chocolate covered strawberries. Halfway through the patch and uncontrollable anxiety, Gojo comes in with a drink tray with two bottles of martell cognac l'or de jean and two glasses. “I see you enjoyed the strawberries, I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch” he places the tray on the pallet and sits extremely close to you.

You take a seat on the pallet, allowing your ailing legs to relax, and use the strawberries coated in white chocolate as a distraction. Gojo enters with a drink tray with two glasses and two bottles of Martell Cognac L'Or de Jean halfway through the patch and uncontrollably anxiousness. He lays the tray on the pallet and sits quite close to you, saying, "I see you enjoyed the strawberries. I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch." He picks up a piece of beef and dips half of it in the homemade ranch.

“Open” you look at the man as if he grew three head and laugh. You try to take the meat, saying, "I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself," but Gojo pulls his hand back and gives you a stern look. Without a second thought you open your mouth to allow the man to feed you. Not only did you let him feed you once but the whole plate of beef along with the miso ranch.

Surprisingly, the beef is really soft, and when mixed with the miso ranch, it is exquisite. Gojo fed you the trend of white meal options, asking you what you thought of whatever he served you next and ensuring you finished at least half. You attribute it to his big ego, and he is still making whatever this is about himself, albeit in a minor way.

You begin to feel lighter, and your discussion with him has become comfortable, flirtatious even. Only when he places his hand on your thigh does your body react.

Your face is now hot, your mind is muddled, and his hand rubbing your thighs makes you want him to move his hand up higher under your skirt. You clear your throat and remind yourself who you’re with. "So, why did you actually do this? I didn't expect Gojo Satoru to be romantic” he hasn't taken his gaze away from you, but appears to be getting closer.

“Because you’re leaving and I know I won’t be able to stop you but I want to give you something to think about while you’re 17 thousands miles away.” It's the first time you've truly appreciated his appearance; he has subtle muscular physique. His lips appear smooth and plump, while his jawline is sharp. And his eyes? Women who testified about losing themselves in his gaze weren’t lying.

As your stare deepens, Gojo notices and seizes the opportunity to slide his hand up your leg and under your skirt. You pretend not to notice the precarious situation you've placed yourself in. Truthfully, all you want is for him to be beneath your skirt, to slide your panties to the side, and finger fuck you. Despite your increased heart rate and anxiety you don't stop him.

"Strip for me, princess," and your body becomes frigid instantly, making you appear almost ashamed. His eyes narrow as he leans in to whisper to you how much he wants you, how amazing you are, how he put this whole thing up for you, and how he begs you not to waste this lovely night. “You’re the one who let me put your hand up your skirt, don’t you want it?” You started to stammer and your pussy's heartbeat is becoming unbearable, but are you going to let this man defile you after he has attempted to humiliate you and make you feel inferior?

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs at your apprehension He starts to stand up, but your hand catches his arm and stops him instantly. "No, I think I want—" Before you can even finish speaking, Gojo covers you with his lips and hands. His thin fingers are hurrying through your clothing, admiring every inch of your body and snapping a mental image of your exposed breasts and pussy. His touch is light but frenzied and every kiss feels like it’s scorching your skin leaving an imprint on you.

Your body reacts beautifully to him which makes him hungry for you. Gojo is above you, staring down at you as you lie flat beneath him. Your gaze is locked on him, as though you're trying to assert your power and take charge of the circumstance in an effort to look less desperate and eager. He smiles and ask how much do you want it— with a cunning look on your face, you glare at him and repeat his question. The young man chuckles at you and pushes your legs apart by swiping his palm behind them.

Once your legs are spread, Gojo places his face close to your pussy, basking in its magnificence. "Is all of this for me?" He says before swiping his tongue through your slit. Your legs snap without warning, but his grip keeps you immobile. He revels in your flavor, the way your body heats up, and the way you try to hide your pleasure in your . This time, he didn't want to come up for air; he wanted to be buried in your wetness and hypnotized by your moans.

Your skin feels as like it is being scorched by every kiss and lick to your clit and hole. Gojo commands you to hold your legs up so he can stick two fingers into your dripping hole and curls them to give you the most ecstasy possible. He may be selfish, but he's definitely not when it comes to pleasure. You abandon your position to position your legs on his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his snow-white hair.

"Gojo~ I need- my head..I can't," you say as your legs start to tremble and your eyesight becomes white from the pleasure that has been building up. “You can take it princess, just hold on a little longer for me” he knows that he won’t stop until you've created a mess; you begin to urge the young man to stop so you can regain your breath, but he doesn't hear you at all. He looks up at you with his bright blue eyes and hums at the sight.

You have a face of pure bliss, your eyes are closed and your hair is starting to stick to your sweat covered body. Gojo has an unrelenting pace — you could do nothing but focus on releasing yourself on his blessed fingers. All he can hear after coming up is your ragged breathing which forms a smile on his face. “I would ask you how everything was but I can see you thoroughly enjoyed yourself”

“You fuck like a virgin who just got some for the first time.” Gojo smile is immediately wiped off his face. You sit up on your elbows but he pushes you back down and pulls out his angry throbbing member. “A virgin huh? Let me lose my virginity with you then” without warning he slides himself through your gummy walls. Now hovering over you, Gojo uses his hands to push one leg up and bend the other to your side. His face is beet red and you can tell he’s enjoying himself more than you are right now.

You want to fuck him, you can’t deny how he has you begging for him to move, yet everything feels forced in your mind. As your face starts to well up with tears, he notices and bends in to get near to your ear. "Aw, don't cry, I'll make it all better, okay?" you nod your head, and he replies "good girl.”

As much as he loves to tease you, he can no longer control himself. Although he intentionally uses deep, languid strokes, the louder your moans the quicker he thrusts into you. He's been saying in your ear all along how gorgeous, wet, and tight you are. How ever since he met you, he's been dreaming of this and wants to be the one man who can win your approval.

You become this lustful shell of yourself that just wants him to consume you, and everything begins to feel like an out-of-body experience. You cry out in desperation for him to go deeper and use you till he is unable to. When he lets go of your legs, you encircle them around his torso while wrapping your arms around his neck forcing his face into your neck.

Your mind is foggy and all you can think about is using your legs to drive him inside of you and lock him in place as Gojo takes advantage of this opportunity to leave as many markings on your neck as possible, intensifying the pleasure you're experiencing.

The young man is breathless at your actions and he makes a mocking tone saying you’re a desperate slut aren’t you? how about I give you something to remember me by”. He lifts his body up untangling your legs from his torso placing both of his palms behind your knees to extend them to the sides of your head, you whine at the lack of contact but he calms your hunger by pounding into you. Even if the action took you by surprise you start to moan and praise the man for fucking you so well.

The young man is breathless at your actions and remarks in a mocking manner, "You're a desperate slut, aren't you?" What if I gave you something to carry me with you forever? You whine at the absence of contact as he lifts his body up and separates your legs from his torso, extending both of his palms behind your knees and push them to the sides of your head. Gojo slams into you stifling your hunger. Even if the action took you by surprise, you start to moan and praise him for fucking you so well.

His climax happens quickly when you mutter, "I-I may just stay for you," in a breathless manner. He closes his eyes in an effort to continue for as long as possible considering he feels his balls getting tight. He desires to relish each instant spent within you, the way your walls enclose him, the firmness with which your hands clasp his arms, and the volume with which you utter his name. Gojo leans back toward you abruptly, giving you a passionate kiss and cums inside of you. Though you're mentally panicking out about the lack of protection, you quickly forget about it as he releases your hold on your limbs and turns you onto your tummy, telling you to lift your ass.

"That fat ass has to get love too, princess, don't be shy." Your embarrassment is the only reason for the heat that is starting to appear on your face. He scoops you up by your hips and slams into you, rolling his eyes at your hesitancy. He is aware of your sensitivity, but you wouldn't be aware of Gojo's struggle to endure the pain in order to prolong this time. Your ass jiggling with each thrust has him spellbound, and as he slides out of you to slam into you again, his dick is drenched.

At this moment, your pussy is hurting and you're crying, but the heatbeat is becoming worse. Then it dawns on you that he is the only one who can stop the excruciating feeling underneath. Your mind is immediately repulsed by the idea. Gojo Saturo, of all people, fucking you senselessly is shameful, but the young man wipes that notion away as soon as it occurs by grabbing your hair with one hand and playing with your clit with the other around your waist.

You were too high and fucked out to realize that Gojo had taken the remote and turned on the television before seizing you. You were so overstimulated that your legs were trembling, and your tears were blurring your vision. "Gojo, please, I just can't handle it any longer." The teleprompters are now announcing the male single winners, “Just let them announce the winners pretty, if you win I’ll give you a present okay?”

Your body became heavy and you can feel your thighs become wet from your climax and hear his win being announced. All he could hear from you now is sobs begging him to give you a second, this is what he wants, for you to break down on his dick. It goes without saying that Gojo takes home the gold, he saw the camera move to his coach; who was very upset over his absence and had a stone-cold expression on his face.

He didn’t want his movements to be soured by the display and leans his head back in bliss. He’s beyond sensitive and doesn’t want you to see the tears coming out of his eyes to. Not only did he win literally but he’s achieving his life long goal of ruining you. His next words are winded, “make sure you come back in nine months for your next present princess.”

Leaning his head back in delight, he didn't want the event to ruin his moves. His sensitivity is immense, and he would prefer that you not see the tears welling up in his eyes. Not only has he literally won, his lifelong ambition to ruin you has been achieved. He continues, "Make sure you come back in nine months for your next present, princess," in a taunting manner.

You continue to sob as Gojo bullies your overworked cunt, cumming again coating your tantalizing walls in white. He lets you go and once you hit the pallet your world goes black. Waking up you notice the space around you is pitch black, you attempt to get up and survey the surroundings but your body is incredibly sore.

You sob on and on as Gojo abuses your overworked cunt and once more covers your alluring walls in white. After he lets you go, you strike the pallet, and everything goes dark. When you wake up, you discover that the space is pitch black. You want to stand up and take in your surroundings, but your body hurts so much. From your head to in between your legs, you look and feel around for a light or at least your phone.

You jump back and scream as soon as you feel warmth and skin when you reach to your left. Your head is throbbing and you try to recollect the last few hours, but when you discover you can't, it just makes you feel more anxious. You stand up despite the fact that your legs are weak and sprint to the closest corner to make yourself appear smaller. Your final recollection is leaving the ice and talking with the interviewers. Besides that, you don’t know where you are, why you’re naked and who that is laying next to you.

“Why are you yelling princess, it’s late.”

Princess? When you hear the voice, your blood starts to boil, and you start to remember what transpired. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! GOJO SATORU YOU WAKE THE FUCK UP AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED," the man gets out of the duvet and moves across the room to turn on the light. He can't stop laughing when he sees you in the corner. "Princess, get up. I got you something."

The man walks to the nearest dresser, throws you in the shorts and shirt, and walks to the bathroom, seemingly unaffected by your outcry. It's amazing how calm someone can be when he's clearly done you some harm. But you get dressed immediately, grab your stuff from his room, and run out of there. "You sick bastard, I hope you know that I'm going to the authorities." A flurry of flashes from microphones and cameras jammed against your face greets you as soon as you open the door.

Questions about why you were in Gojo's room, whether you were actually unwell or if you skipped the rest of the competition to spend time with him, and why you were leaving in his clothing suddenly burst out of the seemingly small gathering. The sensation of his arms enveloping you, his naked chest resting on your back, and his murmur in your ear, "Gold winning Olympian misses her win to share intimate time with her new boyfriend," further intensifies your feelings of overwhelm. “I believe that is a catchy headline.”

Gojo got what he wanted, attaching you to him forever, hopefully in more ways than one.

[mymegumi]

I JUST WANT YOU (FOR MY OWN) ෆ KAMO CHOSO

⠀ warnings: no jujutsu au, situationship/fwb to lovers

⠀ event masterlist ෆ

“please, please stop telling yuuji to do his mariah carey impression, i can only handle so much of his screeching.” you moan, hands over your ears as you tread up the stairs of choso and itadori’s shared apartment. the pink-haired male is still happily singing along to the woman’s christmas hit, but at a much farther distance away so you can hardly hear it now.

“i wouldn’t have had to do that if you didn’t eat the last cookie from yesterday night.” choso says, peeking his head out from the hallway at the top of the stairs, eyebrow raised as he gives you an accusing look. “i even said i was saving it.”

“okay,” you mutter, swiping at his knee playfully as you walk past him to his bedroom, “calling dibs on it while i’m not around means nothing to me.”

choso is sprawled out on the bed when you reach his bedroom, the walls a contrasting dark blue to the light beige carpeting. his bedsheets are, as men are so often predictable, a dark navy with the odd pairing of gray pillowcases. there’s a collection of random objects and souvenirs living on his nightstand, but also scattered among them are your own things, as you’ve come to spend just as much time at choso’s apartment as your own.

“yeah,” he mutters, “well, i didn’t think you were heartless. taking a man’s cookie like that.”

you laugh, falling onto his body and relishing in the way his arms wind around your waist, holding you to him as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

it’s strange—your not-quite relationship with choso. since the two of you have known each other, you’ve been magnets that just couldn’t stay away from one another, and yet neither of you have ever labeled what you were. there was exclusivity in your situation, but there wasn’t a label. you’d only sleep with him and vice versa, and yet there was no girlfriend-boyfriend feeling, no security in the fact that he could technically walk away from you at any minute.

you sigh softly, burying your face in his neck just enjoying the musky smell of him when you feel him shuffle a bit, as if moving to reach something. “you okay? want me to move?”

you can feel, more than you can see, him shake his head, body moving ever so slightly as you feel his hand come up to rest on the back of your head. “you’re okay, don’t worry.”

content to keep your wandering mind to yourself for once, you close your eyes sleepily as you imagine he’s on his phone doing who knows what. there was a point that you had worried maybe he was texting other girls, trying to find a connection that felt better than yours, but there was too much else to be worrying about—other things that required your time and energy and honestly, protecting your peace felt good. not stressing about his every move and his loyalty as a man that wasn’t truly yours was a lot nicer than being anxious about it. instead, you just wanted to enjoy his warmth and listen to his heart beating instead.

it’s this feeling, the feeling of the steady thump of his heart, that lulls you into a light sleep. dancing across your eyelids are you and choso, hands laced and heads pressed together as you laugh and whisper softly, secrets and joys shared between you both.

with a light jostling, choso wakes you with a soft ‘hey’ and unknown amount of time later. blinking, you look up at him as he presents something to you, a small velvet box with cursive gold embossment on the top of it. it makes your breath catch because despite the fact that the two of you have bought each other meals, and occasionally a sweater or a shirt, this was far fancier than what you’d bought him for christmas. you’re quickly snapped from your sleepy reverie to glance between the box and choso’s face in disbelief.

what you’d gotten him for christmas was just a nike hoodie that you had thought he would look good in, and that you were excited to take when his scent was more ingrained in it. while it was a self-indulgent gift, he enjoyed seeing you in his clothes and you were more excited to see his face when you wore it, than you were to see him actually open his gift.

“choso,” you murmur, eyes warily traveling from the velvety red box to his eyes. “you didn’t have to get me something so fancy.”

he didn’t have to get you anything at all, really. did situationships normally give each other gifts for christmas?

“i wanted to.” he mumbles, red slowly rising on the apples of his cheeks as he nudges the box in your direction. “open it, before i die of embarrassment.”

“you look like you’re going to die of embarrassment right now.” you tease, leaning up on one arm to gently take the box from him and laughing as he covers his face with an arm. the velvet is gentle against your fingertips and you notice that you’re shaking, suddenly realizing you’re almost scared to see how precious this gift is.

“i feel like i’m going to.” the words are muffled against his arm and with every breath, his chest is rising and falling sharply. you rub a soothing hand on his chest as you lift the lid of the little box, your own breath catching in your throat.

inside plush black satin, resting ever so prettily are a thin golden necklace and a matching bracelet. even with the limited natural light in choso’s room, the dainty bands sparkle, as if there was a spotlight hidden somewhere to show off their beauty. somehow, as if it were possible, the necklace and the bracelet aren’t the most surprising thing in the box. scrawled on a piece of paper in choso’s messing handwriting, is the simple phrase ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ in black ink. the question makes your heart flutter and immediately your eyes lock with his.

“are you serious?” you ask, mouth agape in sheer surprise. the tips of his ears have flushed bright red, by this point, and he nods shyly as he fiddles with the waistband of your pants. “oh my god, of course!”

you’re moving before you know what’s happening, choso leaning up to wrap you in a tight hug. his arms are wound around you, face buried in your neck as you laugh gently, closing the box and putting it on his sheets, content to put it on when he’s released you from his grasp.

“i was so nervous you were going to say no.” choso whispers into your neck, fingers gripping your clothes.

you shake your head. “i’d be stupid to say no.”

“merry christmas.” he leans back, eyes twinkling and the blush still ever present on his cheeks and ears. “i love you.”

pressing your lips together, hands pressed to both of his cheeks to pull him into you, you can feel a tightness in your chest lifting. his lips are as soft as they always are, lightly taste of vanilla and chocolate, and they slot perfectly against yours—just as he is perfect for you.

“i love you. merry christmas, choso.”

[newtthetranswriter]

Could I request Gojo x male reader where the reader is a ballet dancer who is a part of the Zenin clan but ran away when they were in high school and Gojo doesn't see him again till adulthood and Gojo falls in love all over again and reader never stopped being in love and they reconnect

Dancing with Curses

Word Count: 3822

Paring: Satoru Gojo x male Zenin Reader

Warning: talks of Gojo’s past arc, the Zenin clan is trash, Canon typical violence, possibly ooc Gojo, let me know if I missed anything

A/n: Hello again, I truly did enjoy writing all of your requests. They gave me just enough information to feel free with creating the story but still having a base to work off of. Anyway I hope you enjoy and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    Y/n Zenin may have been lucky enough to be born with a decent cursed technique but the fact that he had made it clear he was not interested in following the tradition of being a sorcerer, made it so he was looked down upon by the whole clan. For years he tried to fight the system but as the time for high school approached, Y/n was forced to make a choice. He decided that he would follow his family's wishes for just long enough to get enough money to escape the world he grew up in. For him going to Jujutsu High was just a stepping stone to reach his goal, he never expected to add another item to the list of things his family hated him for.

   As previously mentioned, Y/n just wanted to save enough money to escape from the world of Jujutsu, he never planned to catch the eyes of Satoru Gojo. Apparently Gojo had been enamored with how graceful Y/n was with his technique and how he was able to mix Jujutsu with ballet seamlessly.  Y/n on the other hand had felt Gojo’s eyes on him, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t see the beauty in the user of the six eyes. But Y/n knew that if he let himself fall or grow attached he would be further trapped in this dark world. So Y/n put his emotions in a box and distanced himself.

   Finally after almost three years of dealing with the chaos and horrors of the world Y/n left. Having one of his underclassmen die in the line of duty, followed by one of his classmates turning against them, Y/n was done. He couldn’t handle the thought of spending anymore time watching people die for no reason, or seeing people who were once all about protecting turning to murder. So he gathered his belongings and left in the middle of the night. Leaving the world of Jujutsu behind, almost completely. 

   Being an outcast from a young age Y/n knew the signs of the Zenins pushing kids out of the inner circle. And even if it was still early and there were a few years left for her technique to develop, Y/n had a gut feeling Maki would need someone on her side. So before he completely wrote off the Zenin clan, he wrote Maki a letter. The girl was barely 4 but was able to understand the simple contents of the letter. Y/n had simply explained that he was always there for her if she needed anything and asked her to not share the existence of the letter with anyone. He also left his new phone number, telling her to call if she ever needed anything. After leaving the letter with his young cousin he left.

   When it became clear to the Zenin clan as a whole that Y/n had up and ran away, they decided to act like he never existed. Writing his disappearance off as a blessing to not have to deal with him ever again. While most of the Jujutsu world moved on from the sudden loss, Satoru was unable to follow their lead. He spent the better part of five years looking for him. Unfortunately for him, Y/n did not want to be found and managed to hide himself well. Satoru eventually gave up.

  Fast forward eleven years, and Y/n had put very little thought into the world he left behind. He took his freedom and did what he wanted. He became a professional dancer, letting his worries wash away. It was a relief to not think about death and curses everyday. But alas all good things come to an end at some point.

  After a particularly tiring performance Y/n felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Seeing that the id indicated it was the one person he kept in touch with, he answered. “Hey, Maki what’s up? Is everything ok?” He asked, concerned. Even though Maki was only four when she got the letter from Y/n she respected his wishes and managed to keep it secret all these years. The reason Y/n became concerned was that when Maki got a phone they agreed she would only call if something was seriously wrong, otherwise she would text monthly just to check in.

  The calm teen’s response nearly startled the man. “I know you said you would never return to Jujutsu High, but we need all the help we can get.” Maki explained, there was a hint of worry in her voice and Y/n knew that something was seriously wrong if Maki was asking him to come back. Before Y/n could ask for more information, Maki continued. “Some crazy guy declared war on Jujutsu Society and even though we have Gojo on our side everyone seems worried. There has been an influx of Sorcerers on campus and even Gojo seems concerned. I normally wouldn’t ask for you to come back but if Gojo is worried wouldn’t that mean having all hands on deck be the best course of action.” 

  Y/n took a moment to think about what Maki had told him. If someone declared war on Jujutsu Society then no big deal, curse users are stupid. But if said person had Gojo worried about it then there was only one person who could be leading this fight. Knowing that fact led Y/n to make a choice he never thought he would. “If it’s bad enough for Gojo to be worried, then having as many sorcerers as possible is a good idea. I’ll be there in the morning.” He knew he would likely regret going back to his old life but he knew the reality, it’s almost impossible to leave the Jujutsu world and stay gone.

   “Thank you, I know you hate all of this but I’m sure you’ll be able to leave again when everything is done.” With that Y/n said a quick goodbye and hung up the phone. If he was really going to be returning to Jujutsu Society, he knew there was a very slim chance of ever getting out again, that is if he even managed to survive the impending war. 

   The next day as he promised Maki, he made his way to Tokyo. When he reached the path leading to the hidden highschool, he paused. Debating actually entering the barrier that protected the school and alerting everyone of his presence or just turning around and telling Maki he couldn’t help out. But before he could chicken out and run away again, he felt the presence of familiar cursed energy. Looking up at the stairs that would seal his fate of being part of this fight stood the one person he hoped he could avoid, Satoru Gojo.

   It was clear that Gojo had changed since Y/n last saw him, having swapped out his usual dark sunglasses for white badges wrapped around his eyes, his hair was also longer and stood up with makeshift blindfold in place. Seeing the white haired male sent feelings Y/n had long suppressed bubbling to the surface.

   It wasn’t any better for the Strongest Sorcerer. He couldn’t believe his eyes, even if he knew that his cursed technique is never wrong, his heart had a hard time believing that the Y/n Zenin was standing in front of him. Gojo had so many questions, like why did he run away, why didn’t he say anything, and most of all why is he back. Snapping out of his thoughts, Gojo moved down the stairs quickly, taking two at a time with ease thanks to his long legs.

  “What are you doing here?” It came out harsher than he intended, but with recent events and the bubbling of long forgotten feelings, Gojo couldn’t help it.

  Shaking his head to clear the fog, Y/n took in the tall man in front of him. “Well hello to you, Gojo. For the record I’m only here because Maki said that someone declared war and it had even you worried. And knowing you only one person could make you worried about a silly threat. So here I am, isn’t better to have extra hands on bored than facing Geto with fewer people.” Y/n answered, accidentally letting it slip that Maki had been able to contact him all this time. “Now that I’m here, would you mind telling me what exactly Geto is planning.”

   Ignoring the request for information about the situation, Gojo focused more on the mention of his student. “Since when has Maki been able to contact you, she was like four when you left. Why would she call you for help?” When Y/n had left after the worry of what happened had passed, Gojo had been angry, and now that anger was showing itself all over again.

   “Yes Gojo, Maki was four when I left. But you forget I was also raised in the hell scape that is the Zenin house. I also know what it looks like when those douchebags start making a child an outcast. When I left I gave her my phone number and told her if she needed me she could call. And you would never guess what happened. She saw that her teacher was worried over some psychopath declaring war on the people she cares about and called someone she trusts to ask for help. I’m not here for anyone but her.” Y/n clarified, and it was clear from his tone that he truly meant it. He was only coming back to the world of curses to help his young cousin. Not giving Gojo a chance to respond, Y/n brushed past him heading up the steps into the base of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

    Gojo was left stunned by his own stupidity. The only guy he can remember ever truly having feelings for was right in front of him, and instead of expressing his joy of seeing him again he stuck his foot in his mouth. Watching after Y/n as he left, Gojo began thinking of ways to apologize for what just happened and ways to hopefully convince Y/n to stay even after they beat Geto.

   On December 24th, Y/n opted to stay at Jujutsu High with Maki and Yuta as a line of defense just in case. Afterall he wasn’t technically a member of Jujutsu Society so it’s not like the Higher ups could actually tell him what to do. He also had a bad feeling about them sending everyone except a couple Assistant supervisors to the front lines. If Geto had asked Yuta to join his cause wouldn’t that mean he had an interest in the boy. So when the veil was lowered over the school, Y/n jumped into action.

    He knew he didn’t stand much chance against a special grade like Geto, but he couldn’t just let the lunatic kill a young sorcerer. Y/n’s technique had only earned him the status of Grade 1 back in highschool, but that was eleven years ago and this would be his first fight since he left. He could only hope he still had the strength to hold off the Curse User long enough for help to arrive. 

   His own fight with Geto didn’t last long before a new contender entered the courtyard where the two adults were exchanging blows. Having also noticed the veil, Maki opted to join the fight. So now it was two on one, the two Zenin outcasts vs. the special grade Suguru Geto. The cousins were able to hold off Geto for about thirty minutes before Geto got the upper hand. The younger of the two had been severely injured, having likely multiple broken bones and severe cuts leaving her half conscious in a pool of her own blood. The older of the two was not much better off. Y/n had sustained a few broken ribs, one of which he wouldn’t be surprised to find out if it was digging into his lung as it was becoming difficult to breathe. But he was still able to stand and so he was still able to fight.

  There was a brief moment that allowed Y/n to catch his breath, and that was when Geto paused, announcing a hole was made in the barrier. He seemed confident enough that whoever it was would be too slow and he could beat Y/n and take Yuta before they arrived. Y/n took in a few deep breaths, sensing the cursed energy of two people approaching fast. Seeing that Geto wasn’t reacting to it, Y/n waited until the wall exploded next to the long haired man before striking again.

  Unfortunately even with the added help of Panda and Toge, they were still unable to beat him. When they turned their backs on Geto to check on Maki, the curse user took the chance to take out the oldest of the group. Striking Y/n in the back with curse, Geto managed to force the broken rib that was already threatening to puncture one of his lungs right through said lung. The force of the blow knocked what little air Y/n had in his chest out, and now with the loss of function in one of his lungs it was nearly impossible for Y/n to catch his breath. The two first years who were still able to fight tried to fight back but were unsuccessful.

  Y/n fought to stay awake and even tried to warn Yuta who had appeared on the scene to run away, but alas with barely any oxygen getting into his body, he could barely make a sound. He was fading in and out of consciousness and couldn’t help but wish for Shoko to be there to heal his wounds. Slowly suffocating was really fucking painfull. The last thing he remembered before blacking out completely was Yuta using Rika to move the four injured sorcerers to safety and applying his own reversed curse technique to them. As the world faded Y/n silently thanked Gojo for not executing the young special grade.

   Unlike the other three who woke up soon after Yuta beat Geto, Y/n was still unconscious three days later. While Yuta had been able to heal the majority of the injuries y/n had sustained, it seemed Shoko was needed for some of the more intense ones. When word got to Gojo that Y/n was injured and that even after Shoko had been able to treat his wounds was still asleep, Gojo was worried. He spent as much time as he could spare sitting by his bed in the infirmary. 

   Gojo spent the time thinking. Debating on how to thank Y/n for risking his life for the young sorcerers and trying to decide if it would be a good time to tell him he loved him. Yeah Gojo had officially decided that he loved Y/n Zenin, it wasn’t just a school crush. Having spent eleven years apart and suddenly seeing him again reminded him of everything he loved about Y/n. Even though he admitted to himself that he loved him, he couldn’t help but think that maybe telling him would be a curse to the man who clearly just wanted to escape the world of Jujutsu. 

   Caught up in his own reminiscing, he failed to notice that Y/n had started to wake up. He only noticed when he heard the quiet groan from next to him. Looking over he could see Y/n squinting his eyes at the light from the open window, and trying to take in his surroundings while still laying flat on the bed. Gojo quickly stood up, closing the blinds to darken the room, and then moved to help Y/n sit up. “Here let me help you sit up.” He said, causing Y/n to look at him bewildered. “I know I was rude the last time we talked but I was worried when they said you still didn’t wake up after both Yuta and Shoko used rct on you.” Gojo explained quickly.

   Taking a moment to process the words said to him, Y/n looked around the room. Seeing a glass of water on the bed side table, he quickly took a drink before speaking. “How long have I been asleep? And what happened to the kids, is everyone okay?” He wasn’t that worried about himself, his main concern was whether or not the young sorcerers had made it out of the battle alive.

   “Everyone is fine. Well, everyone on our side, that is, the kids are all okay. They’re taking a few days to relax before getting back to training. As for how long you were asleep for, well it's been about three days.” Gojo informed him. “And before you ask, Geto won’t be a problem anymore.” His tone of voice shifted from glad to something lingering with sadness.

  Picking up on the change of tone Y/n understood what he was implying. “I’m sorry for your loss, I know you were really close before everything. But it’s great to hear that the kids are okay.” He said truthfully. Taking a moment to think of what to say next, one thing popped into his mind and he couldn’t shake it. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you have some important mission that only the Strongest can deal with?” Y/n asked, trying to switch the subject.

   Having spent three days thinking over and planning for how to speak his mind didn’t prepare him for what he was going to say.  “Um, I just wanted to express my thanks for you risking your life to protect the first years. If you hadn’t decided to show up or stay behind while we all went to the front line, who knows what would have happened to those four. I mean sure Panda probably would have been ok, but the others might not have been so lucky.” Gojo thanked him. 

   Y/n nodded along, but that didn’t fully answer his question. Gojo was there when he woke up, if he just wanted to say thank you then he could have done it after someone else told him Y/n was awake. “I think they would have been just fine. Maki is a strong fighter and Toge has a great understanding of his technique. And Yuta has a surprisingly great understanding of cursed energy for someone who just learned about curses a few months ago. But the strength of your students aside, Why are you here? And don’t say it’s just to say thank you. You were here when I woke up, if you just wanted to thank me then you could have gone about your day and then thanked me when someone told you I was awake.” He confronted the white haired male.

   Gojo scratched the back of his head trying to decide if he should say he just happened to stop by to check on him right before he woke, or if he should tell Y/n the truth. Realizing he had been quiet for too long and that if he did lie Shoko would probably rat him out either way, he came to the conclusion that honesty was the best policy. “Well, I’ve kinda been here the whole time. Like I said before I was really worried when Shoko told me you hadn’t woken up after being treated. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He explained. Watching as Y/n’s face shifted from confusion to shock, Gojo couldn’t stop himself from talking more. “And I know this is probably a terrible time to bring this up, especially with how I reacted when you showed up the other day. But I really care about you Y/n. When you left back in highschool, I thought something terrible happened to you and I searched for you for years. I eventually figured that if you went through the struggle of leaving with out a trace there was probably a reason and so I stopped looking. But the worry turned to hurt and anger and I guess seeing you suddenly and hearing that you only came back for Maki’s sake, made that anger bubble up again. I understand you left for a reason and you probably want to leave as soon as possible after all this life is hell for anyone. But I do want you to know that you mean a lot to me.” This was the first time Y/n had seen or heard of Gojo letting his emotions out in such a clear way. Gojo was always calm and only really expressed deep emotions when fighting or teaching, so having him say all of that really shocked Y/n.

   Y/n took a few moments to process everything Gojo said, before making the second life changing decision of the month. “While I left because this life is taxing and full of hardship, I don’t know if I can abandon it again. I wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping teach the next generation of sorcerers.” Y/n explained. “This isn’t a permanent situation though and I will have some requirements that need to be accepted before I commit to it. After all, I can't leave the ones I care about to fight alone if I’m able to lend a helping hand.” he finished making his intentions to at least stick around for a short while clear.

   Even though Gojo was happy to hear that Y/n was going to stick around, he was confused by the wording of the last sentence. “Wait you said ‘the ones’  you care about, I thought you came back for Maki.” He couldn’t help but ask.

   Y/n just laughed before responding. “You’re right I did come back for Maki. But there are more people here that I care about than just her. Now I may have just woken up from a three day nap, but I’m exhausted so if you don’t mind I’m going back to sleep.” With that Y/n layed back down rolling to face away from the tall sorcerer.

   “Who else do you care about here? I’m confused.” Gojo really wanted answers.

   Y/n responded even though he was half asleep. “That’s for me to know and for you to figure out Satoru.” And with that Gojo was left as the only one awake in the room.

   He sat in silence processing what he had been told. And when he registered that y/n had not called him Gojo but used his first name for the first time, he couldn’t hide his smile. Deciding to let Y/n rest in peace he left to inform everyone about Y/n’s decision to consider staying at Jujutsu high for a while.

[thefandomthings]

#4 (fluff) with nanami please!! younger version :))

🅁🄴🄰🄳 🅃🄾 🄼🄴?

Fluff Prompt #4: "Can you read to me?"

Pairing: Highschool!Nanami Kento x Gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff and a little angst

Notes: Yay! One of my first requests for the event! I apologize, I've only ever seen the first episode of jjk so if Nanami is OOC I'm so sorry

Prompt event

Nanami was complicated, he didn't like to let people in. He was blunt and distant, even to those he loved dearly. And after Haibara died Nanami realized how little he told his friend how much he appreciated him, and his anxiety spiked whenever he thought of you dying on a mission.

Nanami wasn't affectionate, maybe occasional leg touching or a kiss on the cheek but that was it, but today was different.

Kento lays his head on your lap while you two are at a nearby park. His mocha eyes watching the sunset behind the blossoms trees, casting a subtle glow onto your features as you read your novel.

You look down at him softly, his pale cheeks slightly rosy, his blonde hair falling over his eyes. You reach down and move it behind his ear, then rest your hand on his chest.

After a few minutes of silence, Kento rolls his head to look up at you. You cast your eyes down at him away from your book and he looks away with an embarrassment expression.

"Y/n..." He mumbles. "Can you read to me?"

You smile softly at him and clear your throat. Your voice fills his ears as you began to read. His eyelids close softly and the wind blows against his face in a gentle way. His body relaxing on the bench, his head leaning against your stomach.

Oh how he wanted to stay there forever, his chest wasn't heavy and his mind was clear from grief. All his attention was on you, his hand resting on top of yours. The small action was enough to let you know how much Kento loved and cared for you.

[velvetreds]

POOOKIEEE IT'S MEEMAW HERE 💜💜💜 congrats on reaching 200!!! MWAH 😘

as for the fun event... can meemaw get some toji 🐙🍕 please bby 🥺🙏

meemaw!! hii tysm !! toji really pushed me out of my comfort zone, but this was so fun to write! once i got my ideas in order, i word vomited SO HARD. sorry if it was ooc, though:(

hey lover — toji fushiguro x f!reader

wc: 344 | event

cws: swearing, stupid argument, reader and toji are married

toji fushiguro is many things — an assassin, an enigma, an asshole — but most importantly, he is your husband. and although you've long broken past his stupid rocky exterior, the unpleasant side of him — dutifully hidden away from you and megumi — does resurface sometimes. coincidentally, one of those times just happens to be today.

the argument you had was over something small and stupid and insignificant, and you can't even remember what exactly it was about. all you know is that toji's bitchy attitude has pissed you off enough for him to sleep on the couch.

you're about to head to bed when megumi pulls at your shirt. shit. you'd forgotten all about your silly little nighttime routine. baby says good night to mom and dad, mom and dad say good night to baby, mom and dad say good night to each other. the first two parts are okay, but you're definitely not going to speak to him tonight. or die trying.

"good night, mom. good night, dad."

"good night, megumi!" you and your husband chorus back cheerfully. it's almost forced. but still, megumi waits expectantly. unsurprisingly, you're the first to cave.

"good night, toji." it's cold, definitely forced, but megumi's too young to notice.

"good night," he responds, but then megumi's gone, and toji's pulling you onto the couch with him before you can leave, crushing you in a stupid, suffocating, warm hug — one that you'd been craving, although you'll never admit it — and kissing your hair affectionately. "it's not a good night unless you're here, y/n. 'm sorry for being an asshole, really."

and perhaps you are the one who has best unraveled the mystery that is toji fushiguro. because you can hear the apology in his voice, and the way he holds you tells you just how genuine he's being, and suddenly it's as if the argument and its effects have disappeared, buried under hushed kisses and muffled iloveyous. and although toji will have been a million things by the time his life ends, he will be your lover above all.

thank u for reading n following!

love,

hyena

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Unconventional Flowers Event - July

Snapdragon Birthday ft Nanami

A/N: July prompt for my Unconventional Flowers Event. Happy Birthday Nanami!!! <3 <3 Rating: E, safe, fluffy, cute Word Count: 1.5k

“Nanamiiiiiin!” Gojo calls out before gluing himself to the blond’s side, causing a vein to begin throbbing in his forehead.

“Gojo, I told you not to call me that here at school.” Nanami clips out irritably, pausing in his now futile dash across the courtyard to avoid the blue-eyed menace. Gojo merely grins and slaps his shoulder.

“Don’t be so upset Nanamin. I just wanted to ask you what you wanted for your birthday this year.”

“For you to disappear.”

Gojo chuckles at the tart reply, shaking his head.  “Come on, seriously, what do you want?”

Nanami is about to bite out another short answer when laughter is heard across the courtyard and his attention is distracted as he follows the noise. At the sight of you, all his features soften, and a stab of jealousy makes itself known as he sees you flanked by Kusakabe, gaily joking and chattering away like a pair of birds as you walk past.

This action does not go unnoticed by Gojo who grins at the silent way Nanami is fawning over you, his keen eyes following your movements behind green glass as you disappear into your office. Kusakabe thankfully, seemed to have other business as he did not follow you inside, and Nanami’s racing heart slows down slightly.

“Perhaps my question should’ve been who can I get for your birthday rather than what.” Gojo crosses his arms and smirks, and Nanami flushes, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” he says in a commendable voice of calm, but the tightness of his shoulders and flushed face give him away. 

“Aw, I can’t believe Nanamin has a crush!” Gojo teases, enjoying the way Nanami’s ire starts to escalate. “On the new hire no less! She’s quite popular eh?”

“She’s…respectable. Talented, I suppose.”

“And gorgeous. Oh c’mon Nanamin, anyone with eyes can see that you like her. And that’s fine!”

Nanami bites his inner cheek and takes a deep breath to control the temptation to thump Gojo on the head. “My interest in her is professional. It’s natural to be curious about the new hire.”

Gojo’s eyes were glittering behind his blindfold. “Then I suppose it would be of no interest to you if I said Higuruma is also…curious about the new hire?”

“What? It’s not just Kusakabe?” Caught, Nanami quickly glances away. Gojo chortles then pats Nanami on the back.

“It’s ok Nanamin. Just admit it.”

“I was just surprised. I mean, it’s unprofessional to pursue someone new without…”

“Without?” Gojo prompts him, practically eating up Nanami’s flustered embarrassment when he fails to finish his sentence.

“Without…letting them settle in first. You know, she’s hardly spent time with any of the rest of us, If Kusakabe and Higuruma take up all her time, then when will she get to know the rest of us?”

“Oh, I think you mean, when will there be time for her to get to know you?”

Nanami’s heart constricts jealously but he remains silent, not speaking or looking at Gojo. The white-haired man sighs, then talks to him sympathetically. “Nanamin, you were my junior. I’m glad you like someone. And for your birthday, I’ll make sure you end up on a date with her.”

The blond sighs exasperatedly and shakes his head, heart hammering in his chest. “Gojo, please don’t meddle. What if she has a boyfriend? I don’t want this to become awkward for her.”

“And what if she doesn’t have a boyfriend, but because you didn’t say anything, Kusakabe becomes her new boyfriend? Or Higuruma?”

A nasty green monster reared its head inside Nanami’s chest and he sighed resignedly. “I swear to god Gojo, if this is another one of your hare-brained schemes-”

“It’s not hare-brained. It’s fully-brained. Trust me Nanamin.” Gojo already had plans in motion in his head. Sighing, Nanami looks at him, looking absolutely adorable, pink dusting his cheeks. Resisting the urge to pinch them, Gojo continues.

“Send her a bouquet of snapdragon flowers.”

Nanami blinks and looks at him. “Snapdragons?” he repeated to make sure he hadn’t heard incorrectly. 

“Yup!” Gojo grins brightly. “In Victorian times, women wore snapdragons in their hair and clothes to ward off unwanted attention from men!”

“And how does this help me?”

“Kusakabe and Higuruma will leave her alone! Then everything will fall into place! Just trust me! Send the flowers.” Gojo starts walking away leaving Nanami looking perplexed.

He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying not to throw something at Gojo’s retreating head. While sending flowers to impress a woman may not necessarily be unconventional, Gojo’s insistence on the type of flower gives him a strange feeling that it may all go to hell. 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

You blink in surprise at the bouquet of beautiful, colorful blooms on your desk, the adorable little snapdragon flowers all sitting in sweet innocence waiting to be freed from the protective plastic wrap surrounding the bouquet. Deep down, you can’t help but feel slightly serendipitous at the sight because snapdragons happened to be your favorite flower since you were a kid, their tales of warding off evil and the cute way the flower petals opened and closed like a dragon’s maw when squeezed tugging on your whimsical heartstrings.

Spotting a small card, you open it, a curious smile tugging at your lips as you read. 

For warding off other eyes, until you finally meet mine

You can’t help but ponder at the cryptic note. Kusakabe was not a flowers type of guy, and Higuruma was more of a straight-to-dinner type of guy. You racked your brain, wondering, but the rest of the team just hadn’t been giving you attention that could warrant them sending you a flower bouquet. 

Deciding it was best to think about this over coffee, you wander into the staffroom, which was relatively empty, save for Nanami, who was drinking his coffee while poring over the newspaper, seated in a comfortable chair near the window.

“Morning,” you call out. Nanami looks at you then hastily splutters out a good morning as he fumbles with his coffee cup. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, trying to regain his composure. He’s thankful your back is to him as he tries to contain his embarrassment. 

“Slow morning?” you ask him as you begin to pour your coffee. Nanami is about to answer when a sudden gust of air blows in through the window, surprising the both of you. The blond looks rather put off as he glares at something outside the window. 

“Mad at the air, are we now?” You try to joke as his attention turns back to you. 

“Ah, no! Just…I lost my spot in the newspaper now…” He gestures at the jumbled pages and quickly tries to rearrange them, but you can’t help but notice the little flowers now suddenly stuck in his hair…

“Nanami san?” You tentatively approach him, taking in how he suddenly stiffens, apparently unsure how to react.

“Yes?” he manages in that contained, clipped tone. 

“You have…flowers in your hair.” You reach over to pluck a pink one out of his hair.

“Do I? Oh the wind must’ve…blown a bunch,” he says rather flusteredly as he starts combing his fingers through his hair trying to extricate the blooms. 

“You don’t happen to like snapdragon flowers do you?” You show him the flower you’d pulled out, which resembled the ones in your bouquet and Nanami freezes, feeling tension pool into his muscles, his ability to think gone in an instant. 

“Did you send me flowers this morning?”

Mouth dry, heart hammering in his chest, Nanami swallows, unsure what to do, then nods.

“Were you being nice or…did they have another meaning?”

“Birthday.” Nanami manages to form the word, then takes a breath and continues. “It’s my birthday tomorrow. And I’d love it if you would join me for dinner.”

Your eyes light up at the invitation. “I’d love to! I didn’t know it was your birthday!” You bite your cheek to prevent the laughter from spilling out at how the relief dawns on his face.

“Great. I’ll finalize the details by today if that’s ok?”

“Yeah, of course! Now I have to think of a present for you!”

Nanami quickly shakes his head. “No need. Just. Have dinner with me.”

Your smile is wide and sincere as you look at him, wondering how you’d never noticed him before. It was like a veil had been lifted off your vision. You look around, quickly grab a pen off the table, and scribble your number on the corner of the newspaper Nanami is reading.

He looks at you in disbelief, and then the smallest of smiles graces his features, making you blush slightly.

“Text me.” With another smile you take your coffee cup and wander back to your office, feeling like you’re walking on air.

Nanami allows himself to grin fully once you’re gone, then huffs. He couldn’t believe it.

“I told you I’d get you a date with her for your birthday!” 

“Go away Gojo!” Nanami sticks his head out of the window to shout as the blue-eyed sorcerer floated outside the window, crushed snapdragons in his hands, and the widest smirk on his face. 

all dividers by @/ cafekitsune

@actuallysaiyan @whatshernameis @daswanj @estarlias @byul9158 @mirrors-musings @Mangiswig @that-goth-bisexual @connorsui @jadedjane @darkstarlight82 @soft--cherry @Galatict3a

[madaqueue]

THE SUN SHINES ON YESTERDAY’S NEW-FALLEN SNOW

PRESS SNOWFLAKES IN A BOOK LIKE FLOWERS — a milestone event

status: closed!

hi friends! i recently hit a milestone and to celebrate, i’ll be hosting a little event!

to thank all of you for being here with me, i’ll be writing short drabbles (250-500 words) for a character of your choice with a genre and prompt below! to participate, just send me an ask with the following information:

characters: anyone from jjk

my most-written for are choso, geto, gojo, and sukuna, but for this i’m writing everyone - if for some reason i’m unable to, i’ll respond to your message and let you pick another! only exceptions are the disaster curses/mahito and mei mei (sorry girlie)

readers: include pronouns and gender (f/fem, gn, or m/masc)

genres & prompts:

ice on the window: fluff

catching snowflakes, meeting family, warm drinks, baking cookies, ice skating + choose your own

a crescent moon: smut

warm skin, trapped in a snowstorm, icy hands, cozy mornings, sharing blankets + choose your own

a gold and silver day: matchmaking

i will assign you a fav and date! if you choose this, it’ll only be fluff! send me 3+ things you love and 3+ things you loathe, gender preference for your pairing, and anything else you want me to know

rules:

this event is intended to celebrate my amazing and lovely followers, so please be following me lol :3

off anon + an age in bio/pinned (18+)

see my writing rules for more on what i do and don’t write if making your own request!

note:

if you would prefer i not publish your ask to keep it more anonymous, add ‘please don’t publish’ to your request and i won’t - i’ll just write your request and add it to the masterlist :)

examples:

“hey beautiful hot and sexy quinn, gimme some f!reader (she/her) x gojo and ‘icy hands’ (i just know that freak has poor circulation)”

“hi there! for the event, could you write choso fluff with a gn!reader (they/them) using my own prompt of ___? also, could you please not publish this ask? thank you <3”

“hi quinn! i’m here for matchmaking :3 i would like to be paired with one of the boys, m!reader with he/him prns, and 3 things i like are ___ oh and i haaaaaate ___, love you :3”

MASTERLIST

kiss it better — satoru gojo x f!reader (fluff : warm drinks)

heat of devotion — suguru geto x transmasc!reader (smut : body worship)

recipe for disaster — yuji itadori & ryomen sukuna x gn!reader (fluff : baking cookies)

sugar and spice — choso kamo x f!reader (matchmaking : building gingerbread houses)

stars and snowflakes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader (matchmaking : catching snowflakes)

crowned in warmth — suguru geto x gn!reader (matchmaking : warm drinks)

heat of a sun — suguru geto x m!reader (smut : cozy mornings)

[confusedgoldenflower]

[Text] Ace Visibility Week 2024 event, coming October 20-26!

[Text] Ace Visibility Week 2024 AO3 collection.

Prompts:

Tattoos

Picnic

Night out

A break

It seems so long ago...

What have we done?

On that day-

Feels so good when you hold me

Buggaboo

A favor

Secret

Gardens

Sickness

Monsters in the dark

Gift of heart

Clash

Ears

Unnatural limbs

Link to the collection (with a FAQ): https://archiveofourown.org/collections/AceVisibilityWeek2024. Crashcourse FAQ: indeed includes aro stuff; can include sex as long as a-spec is respected; NO pwp/smut for the sake of it; and consent is a MUST.

My first event, I hope y’all will join in the a-spec loving! 🖤🤍💜 🖤🤍💚

Please use tags #acevisibilityweek2024, #aceweek2024 and #aceweekao3. Feeling a bit spicy, use #teachthealloshowtoact.

It’ll be easiest—I think—to keep track on AO3 because of the way it’s set-up, but I will definitely be trolling Tumblr as well (I don’t have Twitter, it scares me). Of course, art and pod fics, etc are welcome.

I know I don’t have a following or a Twitter, but regardless, I hope other aces and allies will join me in this, and we can have it as an annual event sorta like MerMay and AUgust!

[lees-chaotic-brain]

A hopeful fan's suggestion for a fic:

Song: 'Streetfight' - Smallpools

Character: Gojo

Genre: Angst

🙃

summary: you've always been there for him, but he doesn't realize until it's too late

cw: underage drinking (like one paragraph mention), alcohol consumption (briefly in beginning), gojo's a bit of an asshole, some swearing, korean word used in a japanese dessert because idk the japanese word, self-depreciation, reader has reverse cursed technique, reader is a little pushy, blood, implied panic attack sorta, not canon compliant, major character death, gojo is a little ooc in the beginning, spoilers, angst, hurt/minimal comfort

wc: 6.4k (holy fuck)

note: hi anon. again, sorry this took so long. i'm unsure about how i feel about this, but i hope you enjoy it. this is formatted a little differently than the rest of the song fics, but i hope that's okay!! to everyone else who is awaiting a request: i promise it will get done at some point i just need to finish all of my event fics, and all my swapped extras, then i'll be back on track. thank you for being so patient with me <3

you can listen to this while reading, however the beat and tune itself is a little upbeat for the tone of this fic so i would recommend listening to it before/after reading!!

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

January 9, 2018, 4:03 AM

The stale air reminds you of how deep under the surface you are, constricting your lungs. The ropes chafe at your wrists, and you’ve long since given up on staving off your boredom by counting the endless talismans covering the walls. Leaning back in the chair, you attempt to breathe. To forget that tons of earth are surrounding you, to ignore the oppressive weight of the talismans crushing your cursed energy. 

Looking back, you’re not sure when your admiration for your upperclassman had shifted from admiration and respect to something deeper. Perhaps it was the first time you noticed he wasn’t invincible. That he was human and struggled too. Or maybe it was when you shared your cheap supermarket candy with him, not expecting anything in return, only to be pleasantly surprised when he shared his expensive daifuku with you a few days later.

It could have been even later than that, when the reality of being a jujutsu sorcerer hit your little group without warning and you realized just how fragile Satoru was. But as waves of memories crash over you it was unimportant exactly when it happened. Succumbing to their pull, you sink into their peaceful blue depths, allowing the ebb and flow of the past to drag you away. 

January 1, 2006, 12:07 AM

Stumbling out of the second year’s dorm, the welcome sensation of the cold winter night washed over your flushed skin. You had counted down the new year just a few minutes ago and needed a break from taking shots with Shoko seeing as your upperclassman could outdrink you any day. 

Probably a little too tipsy to climb up to your favorite spot on top of the dorms you instead opt to take a short walk through the gardens, hoping the fresh air and sharp bite of the air would help you sober up. The silvery moonlight filters down through clouds that promise a snowy morning, barely illuminating the stone path beneath your feet.

Passing by a side path that leads to a small grassy clearing you pause, backing up. There, sprawled on his back with his blindfold removed, lay Gojo Satoru staring up at the sky. The innate beauty of the sight stuns you. His hair gleams as the moonlight highlights the pure white of his hair, and his eyes glitter, crystalline and sharp.

Your breath leaves you as you marvel at his otherworldly appearance before you approach him, laying down beside him on the frozen grass with a crisp crunch. Staring up at the navy sky scattered with stars you don’t say anything for a couple of moments.

“It’s a New Year.” You’re surprised he speaks first, but listen quietly, breath puffing in plumes of white before drifting away and disappearing. “It’s a New Year yet I’m not excited.”

Mulling over his words for a moment, you reply. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. But do you want to talk about why?”

His hesitation is palpable so you continue. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do, I promise that it’ll stay between us.”

"It's just...I’m a year closer to graduating now, and I don't want to graduate. As soon as I graduate I'll officially be the honored one. The strongest sorcerer. The one expected to protect everyone. But I don't have a domain expansion and I barely have control over my cursed technique. I don't care about what the stupid higher ups think but..."

"But?" You prompted gently, turning your head to look over at him. As if sensing you gaze, he turns his head as well, meeting your eyes.

"But I don't want to let you guys down." He looks a little embarrassed. "Suguru, You, Shoko, Nanami, Principal Yaga, and Haibara. Oh, and Utahime I guess. I really really really don't want to disappoint you."

You sigh, and he sees your expression soften. "It may not be my place to say anything, but I don't think any of us would be disappointed in you no matter what you did. The higher ups and others may see you as the honored one, but to us you're just Gojo, our fun, sometimes obnoxious, classmate."

He snorts at that and you smile, relieved that it seemed to make him feel better. "Thank you." He says sincerely. "I really appreciate it."

"O-of course!" You stammer, flustered by his gratitude. "It was nothing, really. If you ever feel like that again you can come talk to me if you'd like."

He flashes his signature smirk, but it lacks its usual cockiness. "That would be nice. I'll keep it in mind."

With an endearing mixture of ease and awkward clumsiness he climbs to his feet, brushing himself off. "Well, I'm headed back in. Maybe you should stay out here and cool off a little longer. You're looking a little red."

Winking cheekily, he disappears in the direction of the dorm leaving you lying on the grass blushing furiously. A cold prick hits the side of your face, and when you turn to look up at the sky you notice it began to snow.

And despite the frozen flurries lazily drifting down before landing on you and stealing your heat, your chest feels warm and fuzzy. Maybe next time he needs to talk to someone he will come to you. Maybe he would allow you to be there with him. Maybe next time you would have a longer conversation.

Absorbed in your maybes and hopes for the future, you had no way of knowing this was the last time he would be open and let his vulnerability show.

May 14, 2006, 3:01 PM

The mood is strange as your group of five finally enter the barrier surrounding jujutsu high. On one hand, everyone is relieved to have finally reached safety, but on the other hand…

You glance over at Riko Amanai, the lively girl you had gotten to know over the past few days. It isn’t fair. She was only a year or so younger than you and yet for some perverse reason the universe had decided that her duty was to sacrifice herself and die.

Lost in your thoughts, you vaguely hear Gojo saying something stupid about never babysitting a kid again and Riko responding indignantly. 

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. It isn’t- 

Schlick

The wet sound of a blade running through flesh snaps you out of your thoughts, and you slowly turn, looking to your left. A long, vicious looking blade protrudes from the center of Gojo’s chest, the dark blue fabric of his uniform slowly turning a deep purple as his blood seeps into it.

Time freezes as you struggle to process what you’re seeing. You don’t understand. You made it within the barrier. You should be safe. So how-

Your breathing quickens as you try to make yourself move. Gojo is using weird, unnecessary metaphors to explain how he managed to save himself from the stab wound and telling Geto to leave, to take Riko and go. Your body still refuses to respond. Why are you so useless? Why can’t you-

Geto yells your name. “Stay here and look after Satoru! If something happens and he gets badly hurt you’re the only one who can help him. I’m counting on you!”

With that he’s gone, leaving you with the stranger with the scar on his lower lip, and Gojo, who’s muttering under his breath about how Geto must have no faith in him, assuming he’s going to get hurt like that. He’s gone and they’re fighting and-

Blood. There’s so much blood.

The man who did this is gone, not even bothering to go after you as you pose no threat to him. But Gojo, Gojo is on the ground, lying in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood. A strange garbled sound falls out of your mouth, and you’re scrambling towards him, scraping the skin off your knees as you kneel at his side.

One glance is enough to tell you that you don’t have the amount of reverse cursed energy or skill that you would need to save him. But you had to do something. You couldn’t just leave him to die. 

“Gojo!” You yell at him as you place your hands over the gaping hole in his throat, blood spurting out from between your fingers. “Remember when Shoko and I tried to teach you how to use reverse cursed technique? Do you remember? Can you try to help me?”

Tears stream down your face as you push energy into him, slowly knitting the muscle and tendon in his throat back together. Already you could feel the toll healing him was taking on you, and your progress was too slow.

“Gojo! If you don’t figure it out you’re going to die. Hurry up, damnit!!” You sob, hoping against all hope that a miracle will occur and he’ll figure it out before the little time you are buying him with your healing runs out and he dies. 

Just as you’re about to lose hope, to give in and accept that you aren’t good for anything, that you can’t even heal a couple of wounds and save a life, the blood seeping through your fingers slows before stopping. With bated breath you pull your hands away and reveal…nothing.

Smooth, unmarred skin greets you, no sign of the gaping wound that was there only seconds ago. A quick glance down reveals that the stab wound in his chest is gone too. You know you weren’t responsible for his rapid recovery, so that could only mean-

“Gojo?” Your voice is quiet as you tentatively wave your hand over his eyes. “You in there? I can’t believe you figured out how to use reversed cursed technique on yourself that fast! You really are insanely talented!”

He opens his eyes, and you can just tell that something is wrong. For one, any emotion or sign of the upperclassman you so cherished was gone, replaced with an empty mask, devoid of all feeling. For another, his eyes were glowing. Glowing so bright it almost hurt to look at them.

“...Gojo?” You reach for him hesitantly, but he just stares right through you, almost like he’s looking at something in the distance beyond you. Your fingers only barely brush the dirty, torn fabric of his uniform before he appears to glitch, and disappears without a word.

Sitting back on your heels, you gaze in shock at where he had been only seconds before, unable to stop the sickening feeling crawling along your insides, telling you nothing will ever be the same again. 

August 03, 2007, 11:23 am

If the death of Amanai Riko just over a year ago was your polite -albeit cold- introduction to death, then the death of Haibara Yu is an unwanted guest barging into your house and forcefully familiarizing itself with you.

Of the six members of your ragtag group of second and third years Yu was by far the best person, beloved by all. His death probably hit Kento the hardest as they were the closest, but everybody felt the hole left by his death.

In the immediate weeks after you didn’t have time to question about what happened or think about how your upperclassmen were faring. You were stuck in an endless loop of caring for Kento; convincing him to eat, making sure he takes care of himself, telling him to keep on living. Caring for him took a decent amount of your time, and the rest of it was spent having breakdowns in your room and trying to hide the fact that you were having said breakdowns. You couldn’t be falling apart. You didn’t have much worth as a jujutsu sorcerer, you couldn’t help them much in a fight, but you could be there for them as a classmate and friend. If you couldn’t you were just useless all around.

Somewhere around when it had been a month since Yu’s death, you thought of Gojo. Gojo, who had told you a little over a year and a half ago about the pressure he felt to protect everyone. To not let anyone down. And once that thought occurred to you, it hung around in the back of your mind, a constant presence reminding you that Gojo could be suffering, that he may be blaming himself for all of this and no one was there to tell him it wasn’t his fault. So one day you went looking for him.

He was a relatively predictable person, so after checking his dorm, then the common area, then the training grounds, you were almost positive he was in the garden. The very spot where he had opened up to you for the first time. And sure enough, when you had picked your way through the overgrown foliage lush with summer you found him in the same position he was then; lying on his back and gazing up at the sky.

Quietly, you make your way over to him, flopping down onto the grass beside him. Getting comfortable, you take a moment to speak, and are caught off guard when he addresses you first.

“Hey.”

He speaks, not sounding surprised to see you. Well, of course he wasn’t. He probably sensed your cursed energy as soon as you started heading in this direction. Annoying jerk.

“Hey.” Fluffy clouds drift by overhead. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He answers in his normal overly cheerful tone. “What about you?”

A dry laugh escapes you before you can hold it back. “Hanging in there. Are you sure you’re okay? I just wanted to check in. You know, no matter what anyone else says or what you expect of yourself you couldn’t have-”

“I told you I was fine.” He interrupts, sitting up and ruffling your hair. You protest, sitting up and batting his hands away as he just laughs. “Don’t be such a worry wart. I can see the exhaustion on your face. Go get some sleep. Seriously. You look half dead.”

“Wow, just what every girl wants to hear.” You roll your eyes. “You flatter me, Gojo.”

“I know I know.” He grins at you. “Now, I’ve got important third year duties to attend to so I’ve gotta scram. See ya!”

With that, he’s gone, vanished to who knows where. Flopping back down onto the grass, you consider taking a nap outside hoping the fresh air would do you some good. It was a beautiful day, after all, and Gojo had told you to get some rest. But every time you close your eyes, all you can see is the grin on Gojo’s face. It’s large and toothy, and if you didn’t know him as well as you did you would think it was real. 

You would think it was real, except you know him well enough to tell that behind those tinted glasses, his smile doesn’t reach his tired, bloodshot eyes.

September 28, 2008, 2:36 PM

As soon as you heard the news you went to find him, knowing that he was in pain. Following Shoko’s directions and ignoring her warnings about leaving him be. If he needed to be alone you would leave. If he needed someone to lash out at, you would sit there and take it. If he needed someone to cry on, you would offer him your shoulder.

Whatever it was that he needed in this moment, you would be that for him. But you weren’t about to let him be alone at a time like this. Not when he just lost his best friend. You knew you were no replacement for Geto, and that it was selfish of you to go looking for him if he did truly want to be alone. But on the off chance that he did need someone, you couldn’t just leave him be.

Just as Shoko said you would, you found him sitting on the stairs leading up to Jujutsu Tech. He’s manspread, his elbows propped on his knees as he gazes out at Tokyo sprawled out below. 

“What is it?” His voice is empty and monotonous, so unlike his usual cheer. “Do you need something?”

“I, uh.” You flounder, words leaving you. What were you even supposed to say? “No. I don’t need anything.”

Slowly, you make your way down the stairs until you’re only a few steps away and pause. “I just wanted to ask if you need anything.”

“If I need anything?” He parrots, scoffing. “If I need something? Yeah I need something. I need my best fucking friend that’s what I need.”

You wince, the vitriol and anger in his voice apparent. Shoko was right. He was clearly struggling and needed space. You made a mistake in coming here.

“Of course. I’m sorry for coming here, I should have just left you alone.” You start to head back up the stairs and hesitate. “Just know, if you ever need something, anything really, I’m here for you. We all are. You don’t have to shoulder this burden alone.”

Having said what you needed to, you begin the climb back up to the entrance of the school, pausing when you hear him spit your name. You turn around, waiting for him to say more.

“You seem to believe that you, Shoko, and Nanami are capable of helping me and supporting me.” He spits the words at you, and you’re stunned by the quiet rage and despair that laces them. “But you aren’t. Simply because you guys aren’t strong enough. You don’t have enough talent. You will never understand what it is like to wield the strength and power that Suguru and I do. He is the only one that can even begin to understand the burden I carry. So don’t be presumptuous to assume that you can do anything for me.”

You open your mouth, your words sticking in your throat as you struggle to find your voice. He’s right, after all. You’re weak and useless. Who were you to think that you could do anything for him? “Gojo, I-”

The chime of his phone going off interrupts you, and he pulls it out of his pocket to check it. Standing abruptly, he shoves his phone back into his pocket, not even sparing a glance back at you. “Sorry. They’ve spotted him. I’ll be leaving now.” 

And yet again, he uses his technique to warp space, disappearing before your eyes. You’re left standing there alone as the wind whips at your hair, gazing at the city that you’re sworn to protect as a jujutsu sorcerer. 

Gojo was right. Not once have you been able to help anyone. At best you’ve managed to stay out of the way, and at worst your weakness caused trouble and put others in danger. You were worthless. You stand there silently for a long time trapped in a spiral of self-loathing and helplessness before you head back to the school, retiring to your dorm.

Later that night, when you’re washing your face and getting ready for bed you look in the mirror and stop. The look on your face, the look of self-hatred and worthlessness accompanied by the deep bags under your eyes and the unhealthy pallor of your skin is strangely familiar. You suck in a breath.

That’s right. This is the expression Gojo wore when you spoke to him earlier. That’s where you had seen it before.

December 27, 2017, 11:54 PM

“Hey.”

You flick on the lights, bathing Gojo’s apartment in a warm glow. After no one had heard from him in a few days, you finally went to check on him at your students' behest. All of them expressed concern for him in one way or another, wanting to know if he was okay so you finally gave in and said you would go check on him. 

He uses the same password for everything, so guessing the pin to his apartment was easy enough, although you weren’t sure what to expect when you actually saw him. Almost ten years have passed since the last time you tried to have a real conversation with Gojo, and as the last one didn’t exactly go well you weren’t eager to approach him with the same topic.

He was sprawled on an obnoxiously large couch in the main space when you entered, blindfold draped haphazardly over his face but at the sound of your voice he startled and sat up. You frowned.

That was strange. He should have been able to sense your cursed energy from miles away. Him being caught off guard by you meant he must be really out of it. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.” You’re hesitant, slowly approaching him. Smiling awkwardly, you hold up the bag of daifuku (a favorite of both of you) that you picked up on your way here. “I brought sweets. You want some?”

You half expect him to tell you to get lost, so you’re surprised when you find yourself sitting beside him on the couch, silently sharing the mochi. Taking advantage of the quiet you survey his apartment, your chest aching at how empty and cold it is. It doesn’t look like anyone lives here, and you suspect this is the first time he’s spent the night here in months. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were the first person to enter this place other than him since he bought it.

“So.” You fidget with the soft treat in your hands, thick, dark red patso oozing out from the center when you squish it. “The first years are doing well. I was able to patch up Inumaki’s throat and head injury pretty easily while Ieri took care of Maki. Panda’s fine too. Yaga has him good as new. Oh, and Yuuta is closer to them than ever, I-”

“I’m assuming you didn’t just come to share daifuku with me.” He chirps, cramming another one of the sweets into his mouth whole. “I’ve seen you eat your weight in these and you threatened to castrate me the last time I tried to steal some of your daifuku. What’s up?”

“Okay first of all, that was almost a decade ago, get over it.” You shoot him a look, taking a bite of mochi. Normally the combination of the thick, sweetened patso and the stretchy, chewy glutinous rice cake was your favorite, but today it just tasted like a sticky mouthful of nothing. “Second of all I’m here because the first years are worried about you, and I am too. How are you holding up?”

“Me?” He laughs, the sound grating on you. “I’m perfectly fine. I just needed a day off to rest my eyes. I get that you all love and need me so much but can’t a man take a day off every now and again? Ah, the struggles of being important.”

“Gojo.” Your voice is quiet, but deathly serious. “Drop the act.”

“What act?” He reaches for another sweet, biting into it. The sticky smack of the rice cake separating from itself as his teeth sink into it makes you slightly nauseous. “Oh, are you talking about Geto? I’m not too torn up about it. I mean, he left what, eight, nine years ago now? He was practically a stranger at this point.”

“Then why did you tell Yuuta that he was the only friend you ever had?” When the sweet, floppy haired first year told you that you had almost started crying in front of him. “Did killing your best friend really mean nothing to you? How can you say you’re okay?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, popping another bite of daifuku into his mouth. “I dunno. But really, there’s no need for you to be so concerned. This doesn’t involve you-”

“How can you say that?!” You’re shaking, unable to hold back any longer. “You are the most selfish, self-absorbed person I have ever met! There’s no need for me to be concerned? This doesn't involve me? Did it ever occur to you that he was my friend too?”

Embarrassingly, tears blur your vision and you blink furiously to hold them back. “What about Ieri? Is this none of her business? All this time you’ve acted like you were the only one who lost him. You seem to forget that Ieri was in your year as well. That there were three of you, not two.”

The daifuku pops in your fist, sticky sweet filling smearing across your palm. Despite the white wrapping loosely draped over his eyes you knew that he wasn’t even looking at you as he calmly reached for another rice cake. That was your last straw.

You snatch the styrofoam tray away from him and hurl it against the nearest wall with all your might, unable to express your rage and hurt in any other way. The force of your throw sends bits of exploded rice cake and red bean paste flying around the room, splattering on everything. 

Silence falls over the room, and neither of you move. Then, infuriatingly, he barks out a laugh.

“You’ve gotten a lot stronger. I’m impressed. You must have worked hard.”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” You take a deep breath and make your way towards the door. Pausing with one foot outside, you look back. “Come find me when you’re ready to stop being an asshole. We’ll talk then.”

With that being said you disappear out the door, leaving him behind for the first (but not last) time. 

January 8, 2018, 12:03 PM

Absentmindedly swirling your stupidly expensive chai latte, you watch as eddies of milky foam spiral into fragrant chai. Across from you, a certain white haired man stuffs himself awkwardly into the booth, the cozy corner it’s located in not exactly tall-people friendly. 

“Did you deliberately choose the smallest booth in here?” Gojo huffs, rearranging his bunched limbs under the table. His leg presses against yours. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

“It’s been less than two weeks.” You sigh, setting down your mug and crossing your legs, severing your contact with him. “But I’ve been good.

You pointedly don’t ask how he’s been, and he doesn’t tell you, not that he would have had you asked. “I’m sorry I was an asshole. You were right.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Is there anything else you want me to say? I don’t want to give you excuses.”

“You’re actually the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. Listen.” You lock eyes with him, holding his gaze. “While I would obviously prefer it if you just opened up to me completely, I would also be overjoyed if you gave me excuses because it would mean that you cared enough about my impression of you to try and fix it. But you have never once tried to explain yourself to me, or Ieri, or Kento. How do you think that makes us feel?”

He at least has the decency to look abashed. “I-I’m sorry. I never thought about it that way.” He clears his throat. “I never wanted to force you guys to share my burden. I realize I was wrong and that I was only making things worse by shutting you out.”

“Do you really?” Your gaze is intense, and he can’t help but admire the fire shining in the depths of your beautiful eyes. “I do. Truly. Can I…Can I talk to you about something?”

“I’ve been telling you, that’s literally all I want you to do.”

—-----------------------------------------

Hours later, you stare at Gojo’s retreating form, the warmth from his parting embrace still lingering on your body. Adrenaline is buzzing in your veins, your brain running a million miles a minute. Gojo was planning on killing the higher up. Gojo was planning to kill the higher ups. And he had trusted you enough to tell you about his plans.

Holy fuck.

Flopping onto your bed the instant you get inside, you stare up at the uneven drywall of your ceiling. Gojo is going to kill the higher ups, and when he does it will send jujutsu society spiraling. Some will support him wholly out of fear or respect. Some will attempt to put him on trial for his crimes. And some will attempt to cozy up to him in an attempt to gain power. 

Rolling over onto your side, you bend your arm and rest your head in the crook of your elbow, closing your eyes. Wouldn’t it be better if he just hired someone to kill the higher ups? No, because if they were traced back to him it would only make things worse. Honestly it would be best if he wasn’t involved at all. 

The faces of the second years and little Megumi (well, he wasn’t so little anymore) flash in your mind's eye. They need him. He’s the only one who is guaranteed to be able to protect them. He is their best chance at having a bright future.

 Mulling over your options, you briefly consider hiring assassins yourself but quickly dismiss the idea. There was no guarantee they would be able to kill the higher ups. In the last few years you were able to rise to a grade one sorcerer -and one of the more powerful ones at that- but even you wouldn’t have a chance at taking out all of them unless you caught them by surprise. 

Wait. That was it. It wasn’t guaranteed but if you plan accordingly you like your odds. Gojo had done so much for all of you over the last decade and finally it was your chance to repay him and show him that you were useful. That your training had paid off. The only problem was, he didn’t tell you when he planned to kill them. Which means if you want to make sure you get to them before he does…

You have to come up with a strategy, prepare, and take out the higher ups tonight. 

January 9, 2018, 4:54 AM

Gojo swears his heart stops beating for a few seconds as he stares at Principal Yaga in shock. “She did what?”

As his teacher speaks, Gojo is aware of the words leaving Yaga’s lips, but there is a strange disassociation between the syllables he speaks and their meaning as Gojo’s ears ring. After a few minutes of numb questions interspersed with stunned silence he understands enough of what happened and is gone.

He’s not sure how, exactly, he managed to figure out and get to where you are (Yaga must have pulled some strings) and everything is one confusing blur of gray until the door to the catacomb you’re being held in swings open. Then he sees you, bound to a chair and disheveled, the bruises marring your skin stark in the soft glow of the talismans. Yet somehow, he finds you as beautiful as ever.

“Who is-” You lift your head, and your eyes widen when you see him. “Gojo? What are you doing here?”

“Me? What am I doing here?” He shakes his head in incredulity. “Why are you here? Also, why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Because I’m basically a dead woman and associating with me will only cause you more trouble, especially after they’re done disposing of me.”

“No. Don’t say that.” He shakes his head in denial, his brow furrowed in determination. “I’m not going to let them execute you. Don’t worry I-“

“Gojo.” Your voice echoes through the chamber, and he falls silent, hair falling across his forehead and obscuring his eyes. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” His long legs carry him across the limited space as he paces agitatedly, anger in his voice. “How are you okay with dying? Actually, never mind. I don’t want to hear you say anything.”

Spinning, he faces you and for the first time since he entered he makes eye contact with you. His heart skips a beat when your eyes meet his, fire still blazing in the depths of your eyes despite the bone-deep weariness lining your features. It takes him a moment to find his voice.

“I’ll be back.” He interrupts, not letting you speak. “Just give me an hour, okay? Promise me that you’ll wait. Just for an hour. Promise me that you’ll still be here when I come back for you.”

Your hesitation is palpable, and in that moment he would have given anything in exchange for knowing what was occurring in your mind, your face revealing nothing. Finally you seem to come to a conclusion to whatever you were considering, and exhale loudly. 

“Okay. I promise.”

He nods jerkily, and turns, exiting the cell without saying goodbye, rationalizing that there was no need for goodbyes since he would be seeing you in an hour. As the doors swing shut, he turns around and catches a final glimpse of you, bloodstained and bound, before the door bangs shut with a finality that didn’t sit well with him.

As he shakes off the ominous sense of foreboding swirling within his chest and leaves, he has no way of knowing that in a mere fifteen minutes from that second, only a quarter of the time you promised him, the clan elders finished their meeting and sentenced you to death.

He has no way of knowing that in thirty three minutes, only a little over a half of the time you promised him, an executioner would enter the room he just left, before leaving a measly thirty seconds later, blood staining the edge of his clothes.

You promised him thirty six thousand seconds of time, but it only took less than two percent of that for your life to end in a cold, dank, room miles beneath the earth’s surface. It takes only half a minute, a fraction of a fraction of fraction of a lifetime, but in that tiny, insignificant amount of time, you leave him behind for the second, and last, time.

Present Time and a Little Past That

There’s no doubt that Itadori Yuuji is a good kid that deserves saving. Anyone with eyes and a conscience would agree. However, Gojo’s motivations for wanting to save him are a little less pure. Where he should see a fifteen year old boy, scared out of his mind and needing guidance, all he can see is you, and an opportunity to make up for his past failure.

When he first saw Yuuji, and on occasion after that, he didn't see fluffy pink hair and wide brown eyes. Instead, he sees your hair, lightly dusted with snow as you lay beside him on frost-kissed grass and your eyes, gleaming in the moonlight as you tell him the words he never knew he so desperately needed to hear.

Looking Yuuji is simultaneously so painful Gojo thinks death may be preferable, and as close to peace as he’ll ever get because even if it’s just little glimpses, he can see you again. So time and time again, he saves Yuuji’s life, and puts the futures and safety of his students above his own in an attempt to repay the insurmountable debt he owes you. 

A little less than six months later, as he lays on his back gazing at the bright blue December sky above him, he finds himself thinking about his students. Even without his lingering guilt and the responsibility he felt as the Honored One, he thinks that he still would have done everything he could to protect his students because they were good kids. 

He finds himself hoping that they will somehow find a way to triumph, and live normal, peaceful lives filled with love and joy and laughter just like they deserve. But in the final moments before his eyes drift shut he thinks of you, and hopes that wherever you are you’re happy. And maybe, just maybe, when he next opens his eyes he’ll be greeted by your smiling face, and he’ll finally get to say all the things he never got to tell you.

Little does he know that somewhere far, far, away there is a little airport. It’s a strange airport; there are no entrances, no baggage claims, no security. There is only one gate, leading to a single, unmanned plane that doesn’t have a set departure time, and a small waiting area with simple black seats.

In this area, a small group of people are gathered. There is a boy, around Yuuji’s age with dark brown hair and an animated smile, happily chattering away with another boy his age sporting a side part and an old soul that doesn’t match his physical appearance. Off to the side, a young man with deep, haunted eyes apologizes quietly to a grizzled older man, his body trembling as he cries.

The older man removes his glasses and wipes at his eyes, before patting the younger mans’ back and telling him he’s forgiven. And there, sitting on the chairs closest to the windows with a soft smile on her face, sits a girl.

A girl with eyes that burn with determination, and a self-sacrificing attitude. A girl who has so many things she wants to say, but the person she wants to say them to has yet to arrive. A girl who will wait, as many lifetimes as it takes, to see him again and tell him the words she holds deep in her heart.

In her fantasies, when they reunite he sweeps her up in his arms and holds her like he never wants to let her go again. No words are needed, and there are tears and laughter, and yes, kissing. She shows him the others. He embraces the young man with the dark eyes, and pokes fun at the old soul. Then they all go and board the plane together, heading to their final destination.

As the plane soars away into the sky in her mind's eye, something tells her to turn around. Slowly, she does, and a melancholy tinged smile stretches across her face as a familiar figure materializes in the center of the waiting area.

He may be a little early, but at last, he’s here.

general taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @hotvinimon @evemooniepeach

jjk taglist: @m0k0k0 @starlightanyaaa

gojo taglist: @pandora-ophelia-blog

thin dividers by @mikeykuns. the medium thickness ones and banner are mine :)

[ohnococo]

The Way To A Man’s Heart | Nanami x GN!Reader

You have a surprise for Nanami: a specially packed bento.

WC: 642 // SFW

You’re more nervous than you have any right to be. You can cook, and the little things you were packing away into the glossy wooden bento box on your counter were nothing too complicated. The presentation was maybe the most difficult part of it all, but you’d persisted nonetheless, and now you were sitting with a little bit of pride bubbling forth as you close the box and run your hand over the top.

But those nerves are at a rolling boil, eclipsing that pride, as you hear Nanami opening the door of your shared bedroom and padding down the hallway towards you.

“Why are you up so early?”

You turn to look at him, side-stepping so the freshly packed box is hidden behind you, and smile as you look at him. He rarely left the bedroom in such a state of disarray, always visiting the en-suite bathroom to tidy himself up first thing after waking, but with his mussed hair and one leg of his pyjamas bunched up high on his calf he’d clearly been concerned to not find you in your usual spot beside him in bed. 

“Just taking care of something.”

Such an answer would normally be enough for your partner, content to let you have your business to yourself when needed, but he hears the uncharacteristic jitter in your voice and comes closer, resting his hands on your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Something worrying?”

Before you can answer, his eyes lock onto the bento box over your shoulder, raising his brows curiously, “Is this that something?”

It was, and it was very much not being presented as the surprise you were hoping for. Nanami loved his food, with a thorough mental list of all of the nicest places in any areas he was frequently sent to for missions, having to rely on quick meals out instead of anything home cooked. He had particular tastes though, a discerning judge who would without mercy comment on a restaurant’s quality. You wanted it to be perfect, a home meal to ease his mind and send him along for the rest of his stressful day with a light heart and happy stomach. 

You also wanted him to enjoy it when you weren’t there to see in case it wasn’t up to his high standards. 

He’d seen it now though, quirking a brow as he gently moves you aside to look at it properly.

“I thought I’d pack you lunch… in case you didn’t have time to get yourself something.”

“Oh?” 

Even in the dim lighting of the kitchen, sun only just rising, you think you see the beginnings of a blush spreading across his cheeks. He places a hand on the lid, looking to you before he goes further, “May I?”

You shrug and nod, cat already out of the proverbial bag. 

He opens it, noting the contents fondly, leaning down and closing his eyes as he smells the small portion of stir fried marinated vegetables carefully separated from the small bun you’d secretly baked the previous evening after he was in bed. He even smiles as he looks at the selection of carefully cut fruits in their own separate compartments. 

He straightens, closing the box. Then he turns, beaming down at you as he places a crooked finger under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his eyes.

“You take such good care of me, darling.” His words are barely above a whisper, though they still manage to absolutely sparkle as they come from his lips. 

Nanami leans in, eyes soft and appreciative, looking absolutely dreamy before he brushes his lips against yours so gently it’s as if he’s only barely touched you. “Thank you…”

Then, he’s pulling back, and clearing his throat. “Now let me brush my teeth so I can kiss you properly.”

[riaki]

knitted hearts | kento nanami x reader

pt.3 of christmas event! i wrote this for u genie ily 🤍 cw: established relationship, he (over)works at that financing company from before, two (2) petnames

the lights are still on.

that's the first thing kento immediately notices when he gets back; the office clocked him overtime, and so he's late. regrettably, again.

in the past, whenever that's happened, he'd have sent you a text beforehand and came home to a dark apartment; eaten something quick before getting into bed and slipping beneath the soft covers where your resting warmth melts away the stress of the day between his shoulders and his eyebrows.

tonight is different, it seems. the city buzzes with a quiet hum, light snowfall blanketing the roofs and muffling the sound. the holiday season is in full swing; normally, he wouldn't care to know. or remember. if not for the lame decorations around his workplace and the chocolate advent calendar you've been diligently (force) feeding him every night, he wouldn't've noticed at all.

he closes the door quietly behind him, careful not to make excess noise in case you're asleep as he slips his shoes off and hangs his jacket up. after all, you might've just been absentminded or tired, and forgot to switch the lights off. and you blame him for being lost to time.

it's quiet in the house; not dead silent, though. there's soft, ambient winter jazz flowing from somewhere in the house, and the faint sound of the fridge humming, paired with something that's baking in the oven. the scent of soft vanilla and orange settles gently over his shoulders, as if to welcome him home. his half finished coffee sits in a porcelain mug on the stained counter; you'd accidentally made too much for him, leaving you with a puddle of bitter caffeine that couldn't even be finished with your combined efforts. you'd promised him you would chug it over text, but clearly that didn't happen.

he's ready to go through the motions of a quiet night spent unwinding alone when he hears your voice— after endless hours of aching at a desk, clacking away on a mechanical keyboard in the dreariest environment imaginable, it soothes him like no vacation fantasy he's ever known.

"nami? is that you?" you called. your voice is coming from the shared bedroom; you sound tired, and kento can just imagine the sleepy look on your face. he's never been inclined to use the words 'cute' or 'pretty' to describe someone before, but if he had to choose, then he'd use them for you.

he walks down the length of the hallway, undoing his tie and gently tugging it off his neck as he reaches the threshold to your room. the air is warm and soft; it seems so much easier to breathe the closer you are. like the crushing weight of work he puts on his lungs dissipates into a cloud of melting frost.

"i'm home, sweetheart." he's surprised at how rough his own voice sounds; it's almost unfamiliar. he needs your rejuvenating touch; at least, that's what he decides the instant he sees you. you're sitting right in the middle of the mattress, something lumpy, tacky, red and green bundled up in your lap. with something between a sinking realization and a fluttering in his chest he recognizes it as the sweater you've been making for him. you're finishing it up, it seems, from the formerly-wide bundle of soft thread that's been reduced to a meek little crimson string on the white sheets.

it's one of your new interests. you seem to be taking up a lot of those, lately; kento feels as though it's his fault, for never having the time to take you out. yet you're always so patient despite his busy schedule, adjusting to portion out a chunk of time from your own just to accommodate for him. it's unfair, and so one night he vowed to do more for you over a glass of red wine and a fancy white table cloth, freshly cleaned and pressed. that was one of the rare times he'd been able to take you out like you really deserved. "and don't call me by my last name. you're allowed to use my given," he sighs, rather exasperated, but you both know there's only affection behind it.

you perk up, a bright look in your eyes that melts the last of the frost buried in his chest and beneath his eyes. he crosses the room to stand at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt a few to let himself breathe. and he doesn't miss the way your eyes linger, so he clears his throat, and you spring to action.

"i finished your sweater, ken. can you put it on?" you ask eagerly, and he's briefly reminded of a young boy with pink hair like raspberry chocolate and a golden retriever demeanor. a soft feeling pushes at the back of his heart, sending mushy gushiness through his veins at the sight.

you scoot close, holding it up for him to examine. in all honesty, it's not terrible; you get an A for effort, at the very least. the five reindeer look more like those urban folklore creatures, and the tree looks as though it could use seven more centuries under the sun-- but other than that, it's a perfect first try.

"i'd love to, darling, but i..." he doesn't get to finish, because you seem to wilt a little, and it already feels like that crushing burden over his diaphragm is back, but this time it's exceedingly and guiltily unpleasant, so he retracts his words.

"alright." he succumbs with a tired sigh, letting his eyes flutter shut and removing his glasses to rub the spot where the frame has been digging into his skin; normally you'd do it for him, but you're busy adjusting the fluffy pom poms (he didn't see those before) on the sweater's cuffs, so he does it himself.

he hears the tell tale shift of the soft bedding and he opens his eyes again, only to be met with a very expectant look on your face.

"put your hands up."

"...pardon?" a small amount of resistance to your antics is always present, at first. by now he knows you expect it. but this time, it may be much worse.

"you heard me! arms to the sky." he likes your laugh, a lot. it jingles like a gentle wind chime.

"i can put it on myself. i'm not a child," he says, a little cross, but you're undeterred. as per usual. not like he minds.

"please?"

kento doesn't particularly view himself as a man with a great many ambitious, or zealous ideals. still, he isn't a pushover and has a strong resolve. unfortunately for him (fortunately for you), when it comes to you, it doesn't take much for him to crumble. if you willed it, he'd get down at your feet.

with resignation, he kneels down on one leg, as if you're about to knight him. he waits patiently, holding his arms up, and he can practically feel your giddy smile.

soon enough, you're slipping it over his tangled blonde hair— with a little bit of effort and a lot of scratchy fabric. it's too big here and too tight there, hanging off his shoulders oddly and the sleeves are uneven. but it's cute, too-- in the way that a toddler's crayon doodles are endearing, so are your amateur efforts. what matters to him the most, is that you've handmade it for him.

nothing an industry company factory could achieve.

"so? how do you like it?" you prompt as you start to mess with the collar, pinching and pulling the fabric so that it suits his form appropriately. he doesn't ever remember you asking for his size, but you seem to know it anyway.

"it's warm," is his only input. he knows you'll complain— but it's fun to hear you whine.

you frown. "is that all?" there it is— a small, sweet little pout; the minute down tilt of your lips. your fingers dance over his collarbone as you pull the collar of his button up over the rim, and his breath hitches in his throat. kento wonders if you can feel his heartbeat or notice the way his adam's apple bobs when he swallows.

before you— or he— knows it, he's pulling you down to sit on the knee that's still propped up, catching you by the rest and meeting you halfway to press a gentle kiss to your lips. he's met with a muffled sound of surprise that quickly melts into a laugh; he can feel you smile against his lips and he wants to devour it.

"so i take it you like it?" you whispered as you lean in, hands leaving the unwieldy sweater to thread through his hair, messing it up to your heart's content after he slicked it to the side. you taste sweet, like chocolate and caramel-- he must've missed the advent sweet for today.

his only response is a small hum— you can feel the vibration, so you chuckle again and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling away breathless from the kiss to knock your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes. there's an undeniable well of warmth behind your gorgeous irises; if he had the time, he'd get himself lost in them.

"good, because i have socks on the backburner and you'll be getting a scarf next."

whenever the lights are off, kento knows you've gone to bed already, without him. but he thinks he could get used to scratchy, hand-knit clothing if it means they'll always be on and waiting for him after a long day of dreaming in front of a desk, all about your smile.

not proofread my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[gojo-mochi]

Mistletoe kiss with Higuruma for @pseudowho <3

"Dear, could you get the other box and bring it here?” 

Higuruma shuffles his way back to you with a large box filled to the brim with Christmas decorations. You were putting up ornaments on the Christmas tree and needed more trinkets and sparkles on it. In fact, Higuruma’s whole apartment has been decorated thanks to your help. “Do we really need all this stuff, my love?” Higuruma shakes the box in his hands, rattling the baubles inside. He was never one to celebrate the holidays, and he never thought he would, especially to this extent. Living the life of a sorcerer made him a bit jaded, to the point where he usually skips any festivities.

That was until you came into his life, and now his heart has grown three times in size. He didn’t want to be a Grinch and ruin your holiday cheer, but he was a little confused about why everything sparkled so much. You could sense the confusion on his face as he scrunched his nose a bit when you pulled out more trinkets from the box. “We probably don’t need all of it, but it is for the spirit of the holiday.” You pulled out a candy cane from the box and booped Higuruma’s nose with it. He jokingly bites at your fingers when you pull back, setting the box down and coming up behind you.   

Resting his chin on top of your head and wrapping his arms around your waist, slowly rocking you in his hold, side to side, humming along to the Christmas’s songs you got on loop in the background. “As long as you’re happy with it, my love, I’ll suffer through any merriness year-round just for you.” He said it sarcastically, and you chuckled, pulling his arms closer around you. Enjoying the immense warmth his body gives off, you rummage in your pocket sneakily, grabbing the special item that you prepared earlier. 

“I think you’ll like this holiday’s tradition, though, love.” Higuruma nuzzles his nose in your hair, planting a kiss on top of your head. “Hmm, what is it?” He kept his arms around you as he looked down at you quizzically. You fish out the item in your pocket and hold it high above the two of you. “See this? It's called a mistletoe~” Higuruma squeezed you a bit tighter and said, “I know what a mistletoe is, my love.” He chuckles, letting go of you, only to spin you around to face him and trap you in his arms again. 

You lean up and boop your nose with his. “And you know what it means to be caught under one, right?” Higuruma hums a little and flutters his eyelashes a bit at you. “I’m not sure; why don’t you come here and show me…”  And with that, you both leaned in closer to one another, pressing your lips gently on his. It starts off slow with a few pecks, then develops further as Higuruma presses his tongue on your bottom lips, making you whine. Giving him a chance to press forward, a hand on your cheek as he tilts your head up and invades your mouth with his tongue.

He takes away your breath like he was a man dying for air, but parts away from you once he feels you have enough. With a string of salvia connecting the both of you as he parts, he looks into your eyes and whispers softly, “Merry Christmas, my love.”