#mostly because I heard he is like Gojo and…I’m all for it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

envy-of-the-apple · 9 months ago

Text

Infinite Rewind

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Instead of dying, you are sent 13 years in the past, but this isn't your face. "Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

Part two: Rewound Infinitely

Word Count: 18.1k

(Warnings: slight yandere, death, murder, inaccurate Tokyo geography, blood, violence, mild gore, obsession, unhealthy relationships, child abuse/neglect, time looping(?), fem!reader) Ageless blogs that try to follow me will be blocked

First, you saw a monster.

It was big and horrible—nasty teeth. You heard screaming. People. Running as fast as they could away from the creatures. Pain.

And then, you saw a bright, clear sky.

The sun was blaring down at you. It was so hot. Wasn't it December? How was the sun out at night?

"Hey, you good?"

A girl is looking at you. Short brown hair. A high schooler, judging by the uniform. How is she wearing all black when the weather is so hot?

When you don't respond, her eyes squint.

"Suguru, are you okay?"

That's not your name; your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"I-I'm fine." That wasn't your voice. It was deeper. More masculine. What the fuck happened to your voice?

The girl gives you another strange look but you're too busy freaking out over your new voice. Your hands are different too. A completely different skin tone, larger.

And then you're fumbling with your pockets, clothes you know you didn't buy. The girl is calling for you again but you're too busy pulling out a fucking flip-phone and looking into the black screen, the only thing you have for a mirror.

Purple eyes stare back. These aren't your eyes. This isn't your nose. This isn't your hair. This isn't your face. You blink. He does too. You open your mouth. So does he. You pinch your cheek. In the reflection, he winces.

Oh, you just fucking bodysnatched someone.

ⴵ

Ten minutes later, you conclude that your name is Geto Suguru, you are a 16-year-old boy, the year is 2006, and you attend a religious academy.

"You're finally acting normally again." The girl-newly discovered as Ieiri- says. "No more weirdness."

You don't blame her, considering you grabbed her by the shoulders, asking ridiculous questions like: what year is it, who am I, why am I here, who are you, am I dead, is this Hell, etc. For a teenage girl, she took your outburst well.

"Sorry," you say and by now you've gotten used to your voice, "it must have been the stress from studying."

She just hums, continuing to walk beside you. Though, Ieiri had a point. You were definitely calmer, and it was mostly because you figured it out.

You were dreaming.

You were lucid dreaming, to be more precise. Your brain was conjuring up a weird setting and you just happened to be placed in another person's body. You heard about this happening before. You were just so freaked out because this was the first time anything like this had happened to you.

An impulsive part of you wants to tell Ieiri that this is just a dream, but you've heard weird things happen after a lucid dreamer tries to break the illusion. It's best if you just let it just play out and see where this goes.

“Excited?”

“Hm?” You ask. And Shoko rolls her eyes.

“For the mission you have this evening. Special grade. Sounds scary.” She says, her sarcasm evident.

Mission? Special grade? You don’t know what those words mean but it sounds like a school field trip. Shoko takes your hesitance as something else.

“Ah,” she says, “so you forgot.”

“I didn’t.” You reply on instinct.

“I expected this from Satoru, not you. You should stop hanging out with him, he’s starting to rub off on you.”

You give a sheepish laugh, and it’s enough to quell her questions.

She leads you into the school, all through the winding halls and through an office door. You couldn’t be more grateful, it’s not like you would have known where to go. It’s a teachers room. Two people are already inside.

“Wait, for once, I’m early?” The boy with sunglasses asks, voice dripping with amusement. He’s leaning dangerously on a chair. You stare at him. You’ve never seen someone with white hair before. It can’t be real.

“He forgot.” Shoko pipes up and the boy cackles.

“That’s hilarious. I’m starting to rub off on you.” Ah, this must be Satoru.

You give a nervous smile. “Haha, yeah.”

The boy stops rocking in the chair. Three pairs of eyes look at you. Your uniform feels itchy.

“Gojo, stop making such a ruckus.” The man, presumably his teacher, gruffs. "You two got the briefing yesterday. Do your job and for the last time do not leave your assistant manager behind again."

Gojo groans, and you delve into more confusion. Before you can say anything, the kid is hopping out of his seat before lazily striding out the door. Shoko and the teacher look at you expectantly.

Oh, you were supposed to follow him.

Not wanting to make a scene, you catch up to Gojo. He's tall, his footsteps are long and wide. But you're tall now too, so it's easy to keep up with him. This new body of yours has a lot of pros.

"Yaga's so annoying," Gojo suddenly says, "constantly nagging us like that. It's not our fault the assistants can't keep up."

What should you say? You clear your throat.

"He just wants what's best for us."

Wrong answer.

"Where'd that come from?" He snorts. How charming. "I know you agree with me. You're just tryna' act like the nicer one, again. It's starting to get a little old."

Is that how 16 year-olds talk? Rude, but also strangely off-putting, like he can see straight through you. Or more accurately, he can see straight through Suguru. How close are these two, anyway?

Why did any of these questions even matter? This is a dream! You need to wake up already.

On the campus grounds, a sleek black car waits outside for you two. Along with a miffed man in a black suit. This must be a very rich school for a field trip to have a chauffeur. Where were you two going again?

Gojo hops in the back, taking one of the window seats. You take the other. In your own body, you would've fit nicely. But Suguru's legs are long, and the spacious car feels cramped. You should've taken the passenger seat. How do tall people live like this?

The ride is quiet. Out the corner of your eye, you catch Satoru type away on his flip phone. A moment later, yours beeps. You still have no idea how to use Suguru's phone or his password, so you ignore his message. Satoru groans.

Quickly, you learn that Satoru has a very low attention span. When looking out the window gets boring, he bugs the chauffeur. When the chauffeur ignores him, he starts bugging you.

"Hey heyyyy," Satoru says, "when this is all over, we should go to that new ice cream place. Like you said, we should."

You look at him. "Uh, sure." You say.

"And you should pay for it, 'cuz you said you owed me last time."

Fine, whatever. "Sure thing."

He grins. You can't see his glasses, and it makes his smile even more unnerving. This kid.

This doesn't feel like a normal field trip at all. Why did you stop in front of some rackety house that looked as though it were about to collapse? You turn back to the only adult in the vicinity, but he's out too. He takes out a lighter and a cigarette. In front of impressionable children, too. Wonderful.

"I'll wait out here." He says, though his tone is uncaring. "Since we're out in the country, there's no need for a veil. Do your best."

Veil? What? Gojo's already going off again and you've already decided to be his chaperone, so you follow. You reluctantly trail behind him. Feet crunch the leaves. The house grows bleaker and bleaker.

"Okay, I have a plan!" Gojo exclaims when he gets through the squeaky door. He's so loud, can't he be quieter? "I check upstairs and you check the ground floor and the basement. Got it?"

Check the house? Were he and Suguru electricians in training or something? That still wouldn't explain why a grown man decided to drop off two teenagers in front of a creepy mansion. And why in God's name did Gojo want to split up?

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," you say, "shouldn't we try to stick together?" Or, better yet, leave.

He clicks his tongue. "Ugh, you're so lame. Not like Suguru at all."

Wait, what did he say? You're about to call out to him when he climbs up the stairs, disappearing from view. Unbelievable.

This kid was starting to get on your nerves. Enough, you were leaving. You could have a nice dream where you met and fell in love with Zendaya, not babysitting some teenager, whilst possessing another person's body. You were going to wait outside with the man and hope your dream finally came to an end.

Except, you couldn't go outside. The door was gone.

It-it was right behind you, right? The entrance was right behind you. You couldn't have gotten turned around so quickly? What the hell happened? Or maybe you had gotten turned around? Considering how distracting that Gojo kid was, you might not have realized it.

You look around the house. Looks like it'd been abandoned for a while. There's dirt on the shelves. Chairs were toppled over and left to rot. The wooden floorboards dangerously creaked beneath you. Just what had happened here?

There's no patio door. No door leading to the outside. At the same time, you hadn't explored everything yet. Each door led to a room. The only door that didn't, led to a basement. And no, you weren't going down there.

When you got back to where you started, you noticed something had changed.

There was a person. Seated right at the base of the stairs?

Gojo? Was he done with urban exploring? Maybe he knew the way out. He stands up, reaching to his full height, then higher, then higher.

Gojo was tall, but this thing was taller. Gojo was human. This thing wasn't.

What the fuck you can only mouth because your voice is stuck in your throat when it takes a shaky step towards you. It's a black husk of a figure, too skinny but too tall and twitching fingers. You don't know how you could've mistaken this for the kid.

Another step. You're running, back into the house, leaping over the fallen shelves and creaky floorboards. It gives chase, and you can hear it groan behind you. It's deep and rumbly and terrifying. It just motivates you to go faster.

It's slower than you. That's good, but it seems to realize this. You can barely celebrate your advantage before something heavy is smashed into your back, sending you toppling to the floor. You and wooden chair crash on the ground.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

Dreams aren't supposed to hurt. Because this wasn't a dream.

This was real. You were stuck in the year 2006, stuck in another person's body, about to get mauled by a monster.

You were going to die.

You aren't even fighting anymore. How pathetic is that? The shock numbs your body as the thing grows closer and closer, all you can do is reach your hands up, protecting your face.

And then the creature explodes.

An implosion. It's skin and bones twist in a way no one should. There's a shriek, something wrong and high and inhuman before it's gone. Like it never existed in the first place.

After all that, he's still smiling. Like the cat that just caught the mouse.

"I guess we're not pretending anymore, are we?" Gojo asks, stretching his arms. "That's good. That game was starting to get a little boring, anyways. Now, then."

He folds his glasses, tucking it on his uniform. Blue, his eyes are. As blue as a clear sky.

"Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you, and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

ⴵ

Contrary to your belief, Gojo Satoru is a good listener.

There's never an interruption. Not even once. Every once in a while, he nods, a hand on his chin. It's probably because he can't interrupt. You just keep going on and on. Word vomit.

He only speaks when you pause to catch your breath. "So you are from the year 2017, and you went back in time to body-snatch someone. I had a feeling your technique had something to do with possession."

You look at him warily. "Wait, you knew this entire time?"

You two hadn't moved from your earlier spot. You were still sprawled on the floor, still feeling the adrenaline surge through you. Gojo had transitioned to squatting on the floor. He scratches his neck, still so casual.

"I have good eyes. Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Anyway, you seem pretty harmless, and as annoying as it is not having Suguru around, I doubt killing you would do any good." Why is he being so nonchalant about murder? Is this kid really sixteen?

"I think we gotta' just wait around until your technique reactivates." Gojo whistles. "2017. That's like a decade away. I wonder what happened for your technique to show up."

You blink, trying to remember the date.

"It was Christmas Eve..." You glance at him. "And then I was here."

He thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I got nothing." Of course.

He sighs, before sprawling on the dirty floor, belly up. You grimace at his antics but choose to keep your mouth shut.

He doesn't seem very worried. At the most, he looks mildly inconvenienced. Why isn't he worried about his friend?

When you ask him, he just snorts.

"Sorry, but you're not that scary. Besides, I don't have to worry about Suguru. He's strong."

Well, that's nice to know, but one other thing still bothers you.

"You speak so casually to me," you mutter, "You know I'm older than you, right? I'm 22."

He laughs. "22? Damn. You're old, man."

"That isn't old!" You argue. "You have no concept of age since you're just a teenager." And why did he assume you were a man? Oh right, you were trapped in a teenage boy’s body. Of course.

"I mean, technically, I'm older than you, right?" Gojo ponders with a grin. "If you're 22 in 2017, that makes you what—11 in 2006?"

You say nothing because you have a feeling that if you continue to argue with him, he'll just drag you down to his insanity.

"Technique, you've said that a couple of times." You look at him. "That's what you call your 'powers', right? Does Geto have one too?"

"Yeah," Gojo says, "but you can't use it. You have zero cursed energy. Honestly, it's at the same level as a plant. A bit lower than regular humans. It's a little impressive, actually." For one second, could he stop being so condescending?

"What's his technique?" You ignore his comments. "Could it be related to how I got here?"

He gives you a look over. "I doubt that, but Suguru's technique is curse manipulation. Uh, you remember that thing you saw earlier." You nod. "Yeah, he can control and absorb them."

He sounds pretty awesome. You look at your hands. Not your hands. Geto's hands. They're paler than yours, and a lot longer. This isn't your body. Your soul can feel it. You can feel the guilt too.

'I'd give it back if I could,' you think, 'I just don't know how.'

Gojo's getting up. He stretches. He was lying on the ground but you can't see a speck of dirt on his uniform.

"Okay, then. No use mopping around." He grins down at you. "Maybe Yaga can do something about you. Let's get you back to jujutsu tech."

You blink up at him. His hand is outstretched, reaching out to you. He's still grinning that insufferable grin but his eyes have slightly melted.

"Okay." You say, barely touching his fingertips. "Let's-"

And then Gojo's gone. And then, you're standing. And then it's cold.

You're wearing a coat; weren't you wearing a uniform before? There's no clear sky. It's nearly dusk.

You were standing on the sidewalk, where people bustled all around you. You fumble through your jackets, putting out a phone. An actual iphone. You flick on the screen.

December 24th, 2017, 7:06.

Holy shit, you were back.

Was it because you touched Gojo? That makes no sense, but how could you explain anything else that happened so far? God. You rake a hand through your hair. Your hand. Your hair. You can't believe how much you missed yourself. It felt so good to be back.

Your mind is spinning, you had no idea what the fuck just happened.

For now, you just wanted to turn your mind off and grab a drink.

You know there was a bar not too far from your location. Along the way, you pass by the bustling town. There's a couple walking side by side, giggling over something you couldn't hear. Right, it's the 24th. You remember your empty bed with no one to share it with, and you cement your desire to drown yourself in alcohol today.

Your self-pitying session is almost how you nearly miss him. His shoulder brushes past you. You're about to apologize when you hear his voice. It's familiar.

It used to be your voice.

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. His broad back is the only thing you see, you're almost afraid to reach out to him.

"Suguru...?"

He halts in his tracks. When he turns around, it's like looking into a fractured past. He looks older, no longer a youthful teenager. You should have paid more attention to his eyes, how scrutinizing they were, how condescending his fake smile was. All that you could think of was that it was actually him.

"Do I know you?" He tilts his head. "Apologies, but my girls and I are quite busy."

You don't notice the two young ladies beside him until Geto points them out. Teenagers, maybe just around the age when you first met him. He was a father now.

You're so swept up by the emotions that you barely notice they've continued walking. You stumble behind, ducking behind the alleyway they went into.

"Wait! Geto!" You call. "Please! We need to talk!" You still needed your answers. You didn't know care how desperate you came off as.

In hindsight, you should have noticed that they looked more annoyed than worried about a stranger chasing them across the street.

The one with the ponytail scoffs. "This one talks an awful lot. How annoying."

Geto sighs. He leaves his daughters, finally standing in front of you. This is what you wanted, right? A chance to talk to him.

Still, you can't help but feel wrongness within you. His smile is off.

"Most monkeys are just that, unfortunately." You don't move. You can't. Not when he places a hand on your skull. "I suppose it'd be humane to put this one out of its misery."

Geto Suguru crushes your skull. And then you die.

ⴵ

Again. You died again.

This is the second time Geto has killed you. Fuck, you should've realized.

"Back again, Greeny?" Gojo asks.

He and Suguru were sitting outside in the grass. Satoru's holding up a few playing cards. You look at Suguru's hands and find yourself doing the same.

Not again.

"What year is it?" You ask warily. "And what did you just call me?"

Gojo grins with teeth. You remember he compared you to a plant before, didn't he? He's so clever with nicknames; someone should give him an award.

"Welcome back to 2006!" Gojo beams. "It's only been a couple of days since you left. And why are you so grumpy? I'm the one who just lost a player."

You weren't grumpy, you were pissed. You figured out what's been going on with you, and it's all because of the asshole you're possessing right now.

The look on his face when he killed you. Like you were nothing more than an animal. A monkey. Now, you feel a lot less guilty about possessing his body.

At least you figured out two things. You know how your technique works. Whenever someone kills you, you are sent back in time to take over their body. But you can go back whenever you touch Gojo, or perhaps just another sorcerer.

Secondly, you have access to Geto's memories.

It didn't happen the first time you died. It must have been because the kill wasn't direct (from Getos curse, rather than himself), but milliseconds after Geto split your skull in two, your brain was overwhelmed by his past, his present, as well as his future.

Geto was set to die on December 24th, 2017. At the hands of his best friend, Gojo Satoru.

Fuck him. Let the bastard die. You didn't give a shit.

You reach over to touch Gojo's arm, ready to leave. He pulls back with a snicker. Ugh, the brat must've figured out your technique, too.

"Stop messing around." You tell him. "I need to go back to my timeline."

"Sure, sure," he says as though speaking to a time traveler is just another Tuesday. "But first, finish the game with me."

"No." You tell him before leaning out even further. He isn't moving away anymore, but you still can't reach him. Fuck, he must've activated his technique.

Despite your annoyance, you decide to keep the future away from Gojo's ears. He doesn't need to know that he'll be the one to kill Suguru. He shouldn't. Not at his age. He's just a kid.

"Just one game! I promise!" He pleads. "Then I'll let you go. Suguru never lets me beat him, I want an easy opponent to boost my ego."

You roll your eyes, but you settle down, picking up the cards. You already know the rules; you have Geto's memories, after all.

It's silent, save for Gojo's humming. When you place down your King of hearts, you ask:

"Hey, is my cursed energy different at all?" You ask.

"Not really." He squints. "Wait, it has grown a little. Aw, Greeny sprouted!"

So, every time you die, your cursed energy increases. That, or your cursed energy, increases every time you time travel. It doesn't matter either way. Does this mean you can use Geto's technique now? It couldn't hurt to try, right?

There's a demon-no, they're called curses you know that now- floating beside you, just a little ways away. Small. Barely fourth grade. You stick your hand out, calling out Geto's power. There's a pull, a rush of energy.

A blue ball drops into your hand.

"Holy shit." Gojo leans forward. "So you can use his techniques." Surprisingly, there's no wariness in his voice. Just awe.

"Yeah." You breathe before glancing up at him. "Shouldn't you be focused on your cards?"

He shrugs, tossing the cards away. "What cards?"

You sigh before staring at the ball. Well, you captured the curse. All that's left to do is swallow it, right? You can do that. You open your mouth. Gojo is still staring. You scowl.

"Look away."

He rolls his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you do this before. Well, not you, the guy that you bodysnatched."

Ass, you keep that in your head as you hold your breath. You swallow the ball down.

Instantly, you choke.

It's horrible. Like a rotten carcass on the highway, oozing blood and oil and pus. You start dry-heaving, suffocating, spit dribbles down your chin. Nothing comes out. You've already absorbed it. The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. Like swallowing a rag that was used to wipe up vomit and shit. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested.

"Is it really that bad?" Gojo observes you. "That guy swallows them down, no problem."

Because Suguru was used to this taste. He was used to the responsibility. The hoarding mass of distraught absorbing a curse comes with. It was a disgusting art. Something he'd perfected to mask for years. Until he couldn't take it anymore.

Fuck, you might have lost your mind, too, if you kept having to eat this. To protect people who were happy you failed.

You snapped out of it. Suguru's memories were affecting your own. That's probably a sign that you need to get out of here. No way would you be sympathizing with someone so monstrous.

"Hopefully, I never do that again." You slowly recover, wiping your spit away with your hand. You lean back on your hands, exhausted.

"Something I've always wondered." You call out to Gojo. "What did Suguru ever think about someone possessing his body."

Gojo laughed. "Funny thing. He never knew."

"What?" You look at him. "No gaps in his memory? Nothing?"

"Nope," Gojo said, "he remembered what happened in the house, but he thinks he did everything. And then he said something weird."

You perk up at that. "What did he say?"

Gojo tilts his head. Then, he shrugs.

"I forgot." Typical.

You pinch your nose bridge. "So, did you tell anyone else about...this?" You gesture to yourself.

"Wait, you're supposed to be a secret?" You look at him in alarm. "In my defense, I didn't know, but I haven't gotten the chance to tell anyone. After the mission, Suguru and I went to the arcade, and then I kinda' forgot about it."

Well, at least Gojo's arrogance works in your favor sometimes. You can't let anyone know, especially anyone connected to the higher-ups. From Geto's memories, you know they don't like anything new. It's best to stay under their radar.

"Good, well, from now on, we're keeping it a secret. Got it?"

"What are you two keeping a secret?" A new voice pops up. You jump.

You know him—at least from Geto's memories. Haibara beams at you. He looks so alive in the sunlight, smiling and with bright eyes.

He'll be dead within a year or so.

Gojo takes advantage of your shock. "The bodysnatcher wants me to promise that I won't tell anyone that a curse-user is possessing Suguru's body."

"What the hell? You just promised that you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Uh, technically, I didn't promise anything yet." Gojo retaliates. "But okay, fiiiiine. I won't tell anyone....except for Haibara." You groan.

"What's going on?" Haibara's smile fades. "Wait, Gojo, is this not Geto? Is this person actually a curse-user!?"

"I'm not a curse-user." You correct. "I'm not a sorcerer either, for the record."

"You just used a curse technique to travel back in time to take over someone's body." Gojo enunciates. "Sounds like a sorcerer to me."

"Wait, you're a time-traveler, Mr. Not-Geto?" Haibara asks and you are genuinely impressed he's able to keep up.

"The name’s Greeny, Haibara." Gojo supplements. Haibara nods, still a bit unsure.

"So...do we fight Greeny?"

"It's not my name." You get ignored.

"Nah, it's all good. Greeny's harmless. Just a weakling, don’t worry about it." Rude, but you don’t think you’d want Gojo to take you as much of a threat, not after knowing what he can do.

"Oh, okay!" Haibara instantly relaxes. The kid's really trusting, huh?

"Okay, fine, but no one else can know, got it, Gojo?" This promise doesn't matter. It's not like you're planning on returning to the past anytime soon. As soon as you return to the present, you are leaving Tokyo and escaping the night parade of 100 demons. Fuck that. You don't want to die again.

He waves you off. "Yeah, yeah."

He's so insufferable. You don't know who's worse: the genocidal maniac or this brat.

"Give me your hand. I want to go home."

Haibara looks confused. "Wait, why does Greeny need your hand?"

"It's how the curse technique works," Gojo explains. "Greeny gets sent back in time, and then my true-love's touch sends him careening forward into the future." You frown at his comment, but he turns to you before you can say anything.

"Which reminds me, Greeny: ever figure out how your technique works?"

No way are you telling a kid that their best friend killed you....twice. Instead, you just shrug.

"Haven't figured it out yet."

Gojo stares at you. "Huh." He responds. "Well, if you ever figure it out, lemme' know."

Sure you will. You hold up your hand. Gojo, finally holds his own up. Out of the corner of your eye, Haibara waves. And then you're back in your own body, on December 24th, 2017, 7:06 pm.

You waste no time. You push at the crowd, squeezing through the hoards of people. You need to get out. You need to leave before the death parade starts, before you're trapped in that terrifying cycle of death again.

You need to leave.

Exorcised. Ingested.

No no no. Shut up. This wasn't you. This was Geto's memories.

Exorcised. Ingested.

You need to leave.

Exorcised. Ingested.

You need to survive.

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows.

You stop, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. People glare, cursing as they move around you. They don't know this place will be a bloodbath in a matter of minutes. They'd all die. But you could stop it.

If only if you hadn't accessed Geto's memories. If only if you hadn't eaten that damn curse. If only if you hadn't sympathized with a murderer. Maybe you'd have the courage to escape your future.

But you'd felt that taste. Horrible. If you eat enough, you could go insane. If you were lonely enough, that would do it too.

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. No one except for you.

At 8:06 the screams start. The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more.

ⴵ

For once, when you open your eyes, Gojo isn’t there with you.

You’re still on the campus of Jujutsu tech. Suguru was just about to grab his soda from the vending machine. You finish his job. The can feels cold. It feels refreshing on your tongue. It’s a momentary distraction to the fact that you have no clue what you’re doing.

You understand your cursed technique, but you still struggle with the application. Fuck, what did you do? You were utterly fucked. You’re playing a dangerous game. If you died- if Geto died- here, what would even happen?

The worst part is that you can’t even think of the hypothetical because there’s no other choice. You needed to do this. To not only save the people in Tokyo from the Night Parade, but to also save Geto Suguru. The man who has killed you three times now.

Geto’s dissent starts to worsen at Riko Amanai’s death. If you could prevent that from happening, you could probably change history. But Geto’s true fracture begins with the curses themselves. They were rotting him from the inside.

You grimace, but you have to do it. You have to eat every single curse that Geto couldn’t swallow down himself.

One was coming up. In less than an hour, Yaga will call you and Gojo for a mission. It’ll be a special-grade grave-type curse. Dispatching it will be simple, but Geto would be the one to exorcise it, ingesting the screams of all that the curse devoured. You needed to prepare yourself for that.

Maybe you should save some of this soda to wash the taste off later.

“Geto!” Someone cheers, you jump, but Haibara’s already poking his head around the wall. He grins.

“Hey! Oh, you’re not Geto, aren’t you?” He tilts his head. “Greeny?”

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, “wait, you can recognize me?”

He nods, after checking to make sure no one’s around, he says, “yeah, your eyes are different? It’s hard to explain.” He tells you.

Huh. Interesting.

“You’ve been gone a while.” Haibara beams. “It’s been a few weeks. I’m glad you’re back, Gojo was starting to get cranky.”

It’s probably because he had no one to mess with. Poor him. He has all your sympathies. Ass.

“I’m glad to return as his punching back.” You mutter.

Haibara shyly shuffles his feet.

“So, are you really from the future?” He asks. “Was Gojo telling the truth?”

You nod. “Haibara, you haven’t told anyone, right?”

“Of course not!” He instantly says. “Not a soul. Not even Nanami, and I tell him everything! Your secret’s safe with me.”

“And Gojo, too! I know he doesn’t look very trustworthy, but me and him have kept it under wraps.”

Reluctantly, you can’t help but agree with the kid. Gojo is annoying, but so far, he hasn’t done anything super harmful.

“So anyway, Greeny.” He clears his throat. “Considering you’re from the future and all. Would you mind telling me what my future will be like?”

You blink at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Nothing much! I just wanna know what I’ll be doing in 2017. Will I finally be a grade 1 sorcerer?”

You think of Geto’s final memories of Haibara. A child burying another child.

“Sorry,” you lie through your teeth, “but I didn’t know you in my future. Again, I’m not really a sorcerer.”

Haibara nods, disappointed but still very excitable. He asks you about other things about the future, and you try to answer to the best of your ability, but you can’t shake off his dead glass eyes, staring at you from the morgue.

“Another thing, we should have a code word.” Haibara exclaims.

You blink. “A code word?”

“If we ever meet in the future,” he explains, “y’know, in 'Groundhog’s day', he has to keep explaining what’s happening repeatedly? In order to prevent that, we should have a secret word between eachother so I instantly know who you are.”

Not the same exact situation, but it sounds like exactly something a child would come up with. You indulge him anyway.

“Okay, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, it can’t be anything too crazy, or we might attract unwanted attention.” Haibara puts a hand on his chin in serious thought. You smile.

“Got it! If you ever see me, just yell ‘brocolli head’ really really loudly. Then I’ll know.” Haibara chirps.

“Wait, why broccoli head?”

“Because broccoli heads are green!” Haibara chirps happily.

You’re starting to learn it’s best not to question his logic.

You nod, very amused. “Sure thing, Haibara.”

Someone calls out his name. He jumps before he waves to you. You watch as he joins with Nanami. They talk about something you can’t hear. Haibara laughs and you decide it would be a shame if his laugh was lost to death.

Gojo finds you eventually. You can’t hide from him forever. You were walking into the school when he caught up with you. He’d ran there. His breath was slightly ragged.

“Greeny, couldn’t get enough last time, huh?” You shoot him a look.

“What are you talking about? Doesn’t matter, we need to go, the missions coming up.”

Gojo’s smile dips ever so slightly. “How’d you know about that?”

It’s probably not a good idea to tell the guy's best friend that you’re possessing that you’ve unlocked his memories.

“Haibara told me.”

“Ah,” He replies, “let’s go then.”

The car ride is different this time around. Less tension. You aren’t as confused. Gojo is seated quietly beside you, watching the scenery go by. The assistant is too preoccupied with belting the radio to notice Gojo's words.

“Figured it out yet?” He asks. “Your technique.”

He's persistent about that answer, isn't he? You're sure the only reason Gojo cooperates with you is because he thinks you're inhabiting Suguru's on accident. How would he react if he knew you were doing it intentionally? It's best not to get on the strongests’ bad side.

“Oh, not really, but I think it’s random. I can’t seem to find a set pattern. Maybe Suguru calls out to me, somehow?”

“Maybe.” Gojo replies. His time is flat. Anxiety flips through your stomach.

“You’re different this time around,” Gojo says.

“Am I?” You ask. “I guess I’m just more determined today.”

He gives you a look over. "Oh yeah? What for?"

"The curse. I'll exorcise it, today."

You don't know how you wanted Gojo to react to that, but you're still disappointed when he turns back to the window.

"Do whatever, Greeny."

In the end, you do swallow the curse. You manage to hold your gags in this time.

It's worse than before. It makes sense. This curse was first-grade. Stronger. In terms of taste, it was like curdled blood and mold. You were so grateful for that soda.

Gojo only watches with a tilted head.

"You're getting better at that."

You give a weak grin.

"Practice makes perfect," you reply, "do you think I'll get strong enough to absorb a special grade soon?"

He doesn't like your question. You can see it in his stiff expression.

"Maybe. Why do you want to swallow up curses, anyway? Last time you were here, you were practically begging to go back."

His response wasn't exactly hostile but far from his usual playful attitude. You knew you'd have to confront this eventually. Despite how nonchalant he acted, it's clear Satrou doesn't enjoy watching someone prance around in his friend's body like this. If he starts to dislike you, it could rupture your entire plan. You need his cooperation, more than anything, to save Suguru.

A little bit of the truth. Just a bit. It can't hurt, can it?

"Curses taste horrible," you say, looking at the ground. You can still taste the remnants of it, "it's the worst thing in the world. I can't even explain how wrong it feels to eat one. I thought...while I'm in his body...I could maybe help Suguru a little. I could ingest the curses in his stead, so that way, he still gets to absorb it." But it'll lessen the trauma it has on his mental state.

You can't see how Gojo feels about that. Those glasses of his cover everything. But you know he's staring at you. The six eyes are taking you apart, observing you whole.

"Did you know Suguru in the future?" He asks.

"I didn't." The man that killed you. The man that will keep killing you. And you'd forgive him each time.

Another beat of silence.

Finally, he just sighs. "You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?"

You give a sheepish laugh.

"That isn't a compliment, by the way. You're just really reckless. And maybe stupid, Greeny." His tone isn't mean.

"My name still isn't Greeny." You tell him.

"Oh yeah, what's your name, then?" He's reverted back to that teasing lilt, and it almost makes you relax if you don't note the curiosity underneath.

So far, you've been lax giving away information regarding the future, but you don't think you should continue that. What if you're too careless and the future changes in a way you didn't intend? A name, personal information, that could be way too dangerous.

"Actually, just call me Greeny. I like that name a lot better."

"You complained about it all the time, though?" Gojo argues.

"It's starting to grow on me." You grin. "Grow? Get it, because you compared me to a plant and-"

"Stop stop, you really are an old man." Gojo groans. You just grin wider. Then, you grimace.

“I can still taste it.” You complain. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

“I caught our assistant manager smoking a while back,” Satoru suggests. “Maybe you could go and beg him for one.”

You toss him a look. “Suguru doesn’t smoke, and I’m not giving a teenager a nicotine addiction.” You have found lighters inside Suguru’s pockets, but you have a feeling it isn’t for his own cravings.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?"

He gives a wordless hum.

"Maybe after this, could you take Suguru out to a cafe'? I can taste the aftertaste of the curse." You shudder. "Just get him something to wash it down."

Also, Suguru couldn't go back to his dorm after this. Suguru dissented because of his fractured relationship with everyone, not just with Satoru. You'd try to bridge the gap between him and his peers as much as you can. You go through Suguru's flip phone, asking Shoko if she wants to join the two.

When you're done with that, you snap the phone closed.

"Okay, I'm done here. You two have fun, okay?" You raise your hand.

Gojo just huffs, amused. "Sure sure. By the way, someone wanted to thank you."

You blink at that. "What?"

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

He gives you a high-five, and then you're back in 2017 in your own body.

Temporarily. So far you figured out that you get sent back an hour before the night parade happens. 8:06. Considering you have a couple more minutes to kill before you’re killed, you reach into your pocket for that cigarette you’ve been craving. You pick the first out of the box, cherry burns just out of corner of your eye.

You notice things now. The children giggled to their parents. Old couples gingerly held hands with sweet smiles. You'd save them, but first, you need to save Suguru.

And do really do that, you'd have to save Riko.

Easier said than done. You could go back in time, but you can't really control when to go back in time. It's been random, but your trips are typically two days away from each other. You can work with that.

But in order to get to Riko's death, you'd have to die...a lot. Absorbing curses made Suguru lose his mind, but how well would you fare with dying over and over again?

"Hungry?"

Someone looms over you. A woman. She's pretty, with short hair and bangs. In her hand, she holds a bag of chips.

"The vending machine gave me an extra." She gives a laugh. She kind of sounds like you. "Would you like one?"

"Oh." You take it. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She trots off into the crowd. You watch her.

A stranger's act of kindness. She didn't even know what would happen to her soon. You grip the bag, it crinkles in your grasp.

It didn't matter how well you'd fare with dying over and over again. You'd get over it. So many innocent people depended on you. You can't just abandon them like this.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right? It's aggravating how accurate he is, honestly.

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

It takes a few cycles to finally reach the day Amanai Riko is assassinated. Whenever you deem yourself too early, you often accompany Gojo on a mission and exorcise a special-grade curse. Your overall plan is working, bit by bit. Each time you return, Suguru's memories swarm you. Each curse he remembers as less painful.

It's why you get worried when you get there a little too late.

"Something wrong?" Riko asks.

You've stopped in the middle of the hallway, and of course, they're looking at you strangely. You know this place. Tengen's barrier is just an elevator ride away. Suguru, Riko, and Miss Kuroi were all almost there.

Fushiguro Toji has already arrived.

In the first timeline, Geto leads the girls all the way down to Tengen's barrier. He puts his trust in Gojo. Of course, he would. They're the strongest. And in the end, Gojo does kill Toji.

But the kill comes too late. Riko still dies, and the fracturing happens.

You thought you'd have more time. If you had arrived a bit earlier, you could have fought with Gojo, and the chances of defeating Toji would have significantly increased.

What do you do?

"What's the matter?" Miss Kuroi asks. She's supposed to die today, too.

"Sorry, ladies." You smile. "But I need to go back for him."

You don't answer their calls, running back up the hallway. The sun's bright, shimmering beautifully in the sky.

It contradicts the blood dripping all over the stone floor.

Gojo's lifeless body is draped across the rubble. It's a horrifying sight. Eyes that were once like the sky are just this empty blue. A dead sea. He isn't breathing. You know, if you touched his wrist, you wouldn't feel a heartbeat.

"Hate to break it to ya', but the Gojo kid's dead." Toji's right behind you. You can feel him grinning.

You know Gojo isn't dead. At least, he won't be dead for a while, but seeing the boy who used to tease you, annoy the shit out of you, laugh at you, be so....it made you freeze. Falter.

You were wasting time.

"Sorceror killer." You say after a minute. You almost can't bring yourself to turn, to look at him. The man who kills Gojo. The man who could've killed Suguru, but chose not to. "You certainly live up to your name."

Toji's grin widens. The only man in the world with zero cursed energy. It'd be awe-inspiring if it weren't so terrifying.

It's funny. You weren't afraid of dying, not anymore. You were afraid of failing. Failing when you were so close, when victory was just a blink away.

"The flyheads." You mention to the swarms of curses all around you. "That's really smart." It gives you an idea or two.

You have Suguru's memories, but they aren't always concrete. You just have snippets. A general idea of what happened within a certain event. It makes sense. Humans can't remember everything.

But regarding the memories of Suguru and Fushiguro, everything is crystal clear. It's almost like you were there when it happened.

It also means that you know Suguru, at this current level, won't be able to defeat Fushiguro.

But Suguru doesn't need to beat the sorcerer killer; he just needs to hold him off.

Currently, Suguru's body contains 368 curses: 3 special grades, 24 grade ones, 33 grade twos, 103 grade threes, and 205 fourth grades.

You release all 368 of them.

In another timeline, these curses would look to you as something to devour. Today, these curses have a new target.

It won't stop Fushiguro. You're not dumb enough to think that. But it should give you time. Hopefully, it'll be enough time.

Your knees hurt when you collapse next to the corpse. Gojo's so beautiful, even when he's dead.

"Gojo." You shake him. Nothing happens. "You need to wake up. Gojo."

Nothing happens. You don't know what caused Gojo to become the strongest, Suguru wasn't there. For once, you are blind to the past.

"Riko needs you. Wake up. You-you need to go and save her and Miss Kuroi."

His body's so cold, and you know he's dead because when you touch his skin, you don't wake up in the present. You push against his body, and he falls limply right back to place. You're sure this sight will haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Satoru." You beg. "It's Greeny. Please, please, please wake up."

Nothing happens.

Everything happens.

The brightest blue you've ever seen. It's heavenly. A glow that warms and chills your skin. It takes a while for you to see again. When you do, Satoru is standing.

Somehow, his eyes are even brighter. You don't think you're looking at a teenage boy anymore.

You're sitting in front of God.

"Greeny." he states, voice flat. "You're late."

You manage to smile.

"Sorry."

You’ve seen Satoru fight before. He’s always calm, body relaxed as he practically floats in the air. Those fights differed from Suguru’s memories—post Satoru’s awakening. There’s always this twinge of desperation. An aftertaste of bloodlust.

But seeing it for yourself is something else entirely. Even with Suguru’s heightened senses, you still can’t follow him. He’s barely a mirage. One milisecond you can see a blue flash, the next you see nothing.

It's barely a fight. Not this time around. Fushiguro is completely unmatched. There's a flash of purple. And then, it's over.

Fushiguro is in shambles. You didn't realize he was human until he started to bleed and shatter. Parentage over labor. It's sobering, in a way.

Satoru's mouth moves. You're too far away to hear anything. They stand there for a few more seconds until Fushiguro slumps. Then, he falls.

You wonder when you got so desensitized to death.

Gojo stands there. You should let him compress, but the clock is ticking. You need to do one more thing before you can let Suguru go.

"You need to go." You say when you're close to him. He doesn't acknowledge you. "Riko's about to enter Tengen's barrier."

He looks at you right then. His eyes. They're so bright, but they're strangely lifeless. Like he can't process you, your words.

"I can see you now," he says, "it was so foggy before, but now, you're crystal clear."

Six eyes look at you. You don't think you're hiding behind Suguru's face anymore.

You clear your throat.

"Gojo." You remind him. "Riko. You need to stop her."

He blinks back into focus, rising from his high.

"Oh," he says after a moment, "right."

You stop him before he can walk any further. You hold out your hand.

"You and Suguru."

For the first time in a while, Gojo hesitates to send you back. You wait a couple seconds longer.

"Yeah," he finally says.

His skin still feels cold.

ⴵ

This death is a lot more painful than the others.

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die.

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Time skips a lot faster now.

You stand in 2006, four months after the death of Fushiguro Toji. It takes a second for Geto's memories to kick in. What you see makes you nearly cry in relief.

Gojo and Geto made it in time. You can still remember the tears spilling down Riko's cheeks, the smile on her face when Geto asked her if she wanted to go back. They were safe. They were home, with each other.

You did it. You actually managed to pull it off.

But you can't celebrate, not yet. From what you can gather from Suguru's memories, Geto defects after four years. You've just held off the eventual.

It's nearly the middle of December. The air feels a bit chillier. You stay on that bench where Suguru once occupied. He was finishing his lunch. Usually, he'd eat with Satoru, but Satoru wasn't on campus these days.

Right, you weren't finished with your work, yet. There was still one other issue. Suguru went on missions alone these days. Swallowing curses, letting them fester and rot in his body. It's isolating and grueling work. You might have been able to help him with the absorption, but your aide won't be enough to prevent his eventual downfall.

You'll have to deal with his natural isolation. To do that, Suguru will have to make friends with people who aren't Satoru.

Suguru does have friends, but he's the closest to Satoru. Considering Satoru is getting busier each passing day, Suguru needs to broaden his horizons a bit.

It's a good thing this school is filled with such colorful characters.

Haibara and Nanami were sitting in the back of the school. From Geto's memories, their dynamic was interesting. Haibara was definitely more outgoing than the two, but Nanami seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. They looked out for each other, in that way.

Ah, Shoko was there, too. You haven't seen her since your first day. Her hair's grown longer. It lightly brushes her shoulders now. The cigarette in her hand burns a cherry red.

Your reaction is rooted in Suguru's instinct than anything on your part. You reach out, taking the cigarette and stomping on the embers.

"You shouldn't smoke in front of kids." You tell her, hoping she didn't read too much into your action.

Shoko scoffs, but to your satisfaction, she doesn't take out another one.

"We're just one year below you." Nanami retaliates, but he looks more at ease now that the cigarette's out.

"Did you finish lunch already, Geto?" Haibara asks kindly, then he takes a closer look. "Greeny?"

You suck air through your teeth, giving Haibara a scathing look. Instead of looking exasperated, Nanami looks confused.

"What's Greeny?" Nanami asks, and Haibara weakly laughs.

"It's-uh-my new nickname for the tree that's growing over there!" He wildly points to something just behind you. "'Cuz it's so...green!"

"Of course." You note the hint of affection laced within his tone.

"When'd you get back?" Haibara recovers with eagerness.

"Recently." You grin. "Nice to see you again."

"You saw him this morning," Nanami interjects, and you shrug. When he frowns, you know you pulled off a perfect Suguru impression.

Suguru melds into the conversation perfectly. Haibara says something funny, Shoko and Suguru agree, Nanami disagrees. It's a lovely little cycle that ends when Nanami grumbles and picks himself up to go. Shoko starts to follow suit when you stop her.

"Your hair's nice." You tell her.

She hums, grabbing a strand to study it. You can see hints of dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. She looked livelier when you first met her. Curses have been popping up left and right since Fushiguro's death. Everyone is overworked, but Shoko looks like she's getting the brunt of it. She's one of the only people who can use RCT on others, and there aren't many healers on her level. All of the strongests share one thing in common it seems.

"Pretty soon, it'll be longer than yours," Shoko replies. You smile in response.

"Where are you going?" You ask.

"Dorm," she replies, "I'm behind on paperwork."

You had a feeling she always was. You gave a look of sympathy, but misery loves company.

"I have some work too," You 'remember' the piles of papers lodged on Suguru's desk, "Maybe we can do it together later. The cafe right next to campus? It'll be my treat."

She looks at Suguru. Her eyes are a pretty color.

"Sure." She shrugs. "see you then."

You feel your heart thump twice in your chest and decide that your work here is done.

Haibara stares at Shoko's disappearing back. The forehead flick comes from both you and Suguru.

"That hurt." Haibara whines.

Good, you inwardly think.

"Sorry." You tell him. He rubs his head, and you wonder if this is how kicking a puppy feels like.

Luckily for you, Haibara recovers quickly.

"You've been gone for a while." Haibara tilts his head. "What happened?"

You can't exactly control your technique, it's more like it has a mind of its own, placing you exactly where you need to be placed. Instead of answering, you sigh, leaning against the wall.

"Timeline gimmicks." You tell him tiredly. "It's hard to explain." He frowns, but he takes it as an answer.

"Do you know when Gojo's coming back?" You ask. "I think it's time for me to go back again."

In previous time travels, you and Haibara tried to see if any physical contact would be enough to send you back. No matter how many times you two high-fived, shook hands, or even held hands. Nothing worked. Only Gojo Satoru could activate your technique. It must have something to do with the amount of cursed energy another person has.

“He should be getting back later this evening.” Haibara muses. “But I’ll be happy to keep you company!”

It's nice to hear him chatter. If you'd let him, he'd go one and one. But you like hearing him talk about his sister. Apparently, she’s also a sorcerer, and his affection for her makes you smile.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually." He tells you. "Even though, y'know, you're a man." It's enough to get a laugh out of you.

“Do you have anyone in your family who can see curses?” Haibaracasks.

“No,” you answer honestly, “at least, not that I can tell. My dad never spoke of curses or strange powers when I was growing up.”

You think he would have said something; after all, you two were too close to have secrets from each other. Your father was a single man, who took to raising you himself after your mother passed away. He often said you had her laugh.

“Maybe you’re one of a kind,” Haibara suggests.

You agree with him.

Gojo finds you before you can find him. He comes up to you with a grin and a wave.

“Hey, long time.”

His sunglasses are tilted down. You can see his eyes. They’ve lost the mania he had in his fight with Fushiguro. You’re relieved at that. You still can’t shake off that strange thing he said to you.

Wordlessly, you raise your hand. Satoru frowned.

“You wanna leave so soon? You just got here.”

“I’ve been here for hours,” you tell him, “also, you aren’t very concerned that someone is using your best friend’s body as a puppet.”

“He’s been through worse,” Satoru tells you off with a wave. Some friend.

“Let’s go to the arcade,” he suggests.

“Do that with Suguru.” You tell him. “I’m not hanging out with a high schooler.”

“Right right, my bad. I keep forgetting you’re an old man, Greeny.”

“22 is not old,” you say with exasperation, “didn’t your birthday just pass? You’re just five years away. I’ll see your attitude change, then.”

He grows quiet. You feel like you messed up somewhere.

“How did you know about my birthday?”

Fuck, you keep forgetting about keeping Suguru’s memories a secret. It takes everything within you to just relax.

“Haibara told me,” you say, “blabbermouth. You know him.”

“Oh.” Gojo replies. “Huh.”

You shuffle your feet. Distantly, you wonder what shoe size Suguru wears.

“How did your mission go?”

“Horrible,” he’s instantly back to his usual self, whiny and complaint, “and the curse was so ugly too. It was oozing goo everywhere.”

You frown. “Sounds gross. But you won, right?”

He doesn’t even answer. You secretly admire his sheer confidence. You certainly weren’t that when you were at his age.

“How’s Amanai and Miss Kuroi?” You ask.

“Safe.” He tells you. “The higher-ups weren’t really happy with us after that; pretty sure all these sudden missions are punishments.” He frowns. “But they’re fine. Miss Kuroi officially adopted her, so she’s a Kuroi now, too.”

You smiled. You already knew all that, but it’s nice to hear it.

“You saved them,” he says.

You laugh, “I didn’t do a thing.” You tell him. “You and Suguru did all the heavy lifting. I just caused some property damage.”

“You did.” He replies. “I don’t know how, but things always manage to work out whenever you’re around.”

You don’t like how he phrases that, but you don’t react.

“You think so? Maybe I’m lucky.” It’s supposed to be a joke of some kind. Neither of you laugh.

“You really don’t know us in the future?” He asks.

Maybe you should’ve asked Shoko if you could have a cigarette.

“I really didn't,” you say, “Honest, I—I have no idea what’s happening. I’m just as lost as you. Hopefully, I can figure out how to control my technique, and you won’t have to see me again.”

You never stopped feeling guilty for doing this to Suguru. Controlling him. Forcing him to laugh with his friends, make decisions based on your feelings rather than his. But you’re so close. You promise yourself that once you fix everything, you’ll never cause someone this much pain again. No matter how many times they kill you.

Satoru’s fists tighten. He looks even more upset at your response.

“That’s not what I—” He cuts himself off. You wait. Satoru says nothing more.

“You’re annoying.” He tells you in the end. It’s clean and cut, but it sounds like him. More confident, less wavery. “And stupid too.”

You can’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Am I done entertaining you now? Can I go?” He grumbles, holding up his hand.

“Yeah, sure, Greeny.”

ⴵ

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Something’s wrong.

You can feel it. Something’s wrong.

You look through Geto’s memories. There’s nothing. Everything’s going as it should be. Everything looks perfect. Then, why do you feel so wrong?

Currently, Suguru was finishing excorcising a curse. You absorb it, swallowing down the remnant like it’s a pile of rusted nails but even the disgusting taste isn’t enough to wash away the feeling of dread.

The walls of the hospital was empty. The auxillary managers had already cleared everyone out by the time Suguru had walked in. Maybe it was the silence that added to your stress?

You walk out. Nothing changes. One of the managers comes up to you with a clipboard.

“The curse was exorcised.” Suguru tells them. “It wasn’t first grade, it was special grade. It was still disposed of.”

He curses, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“The wrong information again.” He hisses to himself. “If we keep doing this, someone will die. We need more people, we’re way too stretched out.”

Those words are familiar. Hold on.

“Wait, what day is it?” You ask the frazzled-looking manager.

Offhandedly, he responds. He says the date so casually, and yet his mere words feel like a bear trap, tightening on your leg.

No. You should have had more time. Why weren’t you given more time?

Nanami and Haibara have probably already been dispatched. You go through Suguru’s phone, finding Haibara’s contact. It doesn’t go through. Nanami doesn’t pick up either.

You won’t make it in time. Even using Suguru’s curses, you won’t be able to reach them until it’s too late. Suguru’s memory of that day is muddled and dark, but Haibara’s dead corpse laying on the examination table. The pieces of him that Nanami could bring back.

You wouldn’t be fast enough.

He picks up on the second ring.

“...What’s up?”

“It’s Haibara.” You spit the words out as fast as you can. “Satoru, you need to go and get him right now, he isn’t going to make it—”

“—Greeny?” The exhaustion in Gojo’s voice is gone. You can hear something rustle behind him.

“Satoru, listen to me.” You beg. “Haibara and Nanami were just dispatched on a mission, but Yu isn’t going to survive it. It wasn’t a second-grade curse; it was a first grade. Please, you have to go and save him before it kills him.”

It’s silent. It feels like hours have passed when you know it’s just three seconds.

“We’ll talk later, Greeny.” The line clicks.

You’ve lost the trust of the strongest.

ⴵ

The future has changed when you get to campus. Haibara’s status is still alive. Barely. But he’s still there. Shoko’s currently taking care of him.

Nanami remains quiet the entire time since he returned with Haibara’s battered body. The only thing you can think of to offer comfort is to pat his shoulder. He barely even registers it. It’s more for you than for him. You’re self-soothing, taking care of something else, so you don’t have to recognize your own panic.

If Haibara dies, right here, on this day, everything can change. Everything can go back to the way it was in your original timeline. Haibara, with his sunshine, smiles, and bright eyes. His death is so important, and you can’t even think of him right now.

Gojo Satoru knows you’ve been deceiving him.

This is bad. So very bad. If he starts to suspect that you know more than you let on, he might deem you enough of a threat to kill, regardless of whether or not you’re in Suguru’s body. It’s not like that hasn’t stopped him before.

Gojo Satoru is selfless. He’s selfless enough to kill his best friend, if he thinks it will save everyone.

But if Gojo kills Geto here and now, would that really be bad?

You’d lose your path to the past, but the threat to your life would be over. Even if you did die in Suguru’s body, at least the people of Tokyo will be spared the Death Parade. You’ll still get what you want. And it will be much easier than your current plan.

Nanami shuffles behind you and you instantly snap out of it. That wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. That same lack of apathy when Fushiguro died in front of you.

It seems like dying over and over again caused you to lose bits of your humanity.

Shoko comes out. Nanami stands up, a tall ball of nervous energy. Shoko removes her mask. Her dark circles have grown even more prominent. She’s only 17.

“He’s still alive.” Nanami sags. “But he isn’t responsive. I’ve done all that I can.”

She looks at Nanami, and then she can’t anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Nanami rasps, the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “don’t apologize. It was my fault. I should’ve taken better care of him.”

You swallow. It wasn’t his fault, you wish you could tell him that it was yours.

You wonder what Haibara’s younger sister looked like. A spitting image of him, perhaps. Shorter. Darker hair, bigger eyes. Their smiles would look identical. What would she look like when she’s told her brother died doing the profession he forbade her from doing?

You can’t do that to her. You can’t be the reason she loses her brother the second time.

You’re not sure if a God is even out there. How could there be? What kind of entity would do something like this to you? Still, you sit on that bench, right outside the room where Haibara’s body lay, and you pray for a God.

Gojo’s footsteps stop right in front of you.

It’s hard to get the words out. For a minute, he just stands there.

“Did you exorcise it?” You finally ask.

“Yeah.”

You lift your head up to look at him. Even in his school uniform, he’s regal to look at. Like a warrior of the sun, blessed by the moon, sent to vanquish beasts and monsters.

Now, his blood-soaked sword is pointed at you.

Make it quick. You can only think. Just make it quick.

“Not here.” You say.

Nanami was still shaking. Shoko was right beside him. So you stand, you drag yourself away from Haibara’s fading presence, and Gojo follows behind.

It shouldn’t be this pretty outside. The sun is bright, and the sky is clear. There should be rain. Enough rain to drown the Earth.

“I figured out your technique a while ago, y’know.” You don’t look at him. You can’t. “Dying. Death activates your technique. Each time you die, you’re sent back 12 years in the past.”

You grip the fabric of your uniform until your knuckles turn white. Satoru’s cruel enough to continue.

“But I never got why your soul kept possessing Suguru’s body. It always felt kinda’ random. Unless he was the one who was killing you. Over and over again.”

“Gojo. Stop.” You beg.

“That’s how your CT works. Every time you’re murdered, you go back in time so you can kill them when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable moment. It’s a pretty powerful technique, all things considered. I might not even stand a chance against it. Assisted suicide, never expected that from you of all people.

But you never do. Each time Suguru kills you, you just come back and try to save him and everyone else your hands can reach. I can’t get why you did that.”

He steps in front of you so you can see him. The God that he is.

“Let’s cut the shit, Greeny. Tell me what future is so bad you’re willing to die over and over again to prevent it.”

The worst outcome you could have ever thought of was standing right in front of you.

Satoru was demanding to know his future.

And...you couldn’t.

You’re taking in a shaky breath. It’s not enough oxygen. The sky was close to crumbling, and you still couldn’t breathe.

“There’s nothing to know.” You try. “There’s nothing, I’m fixing it—”

“—by Suguru killing you, or is this considering killing yourself, now?”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice is cracking, so high-pitched that even Suguru’s vocal cords can’t keep up. “You don’t get it. You can’t.”

“Then help me understand.” His voice is as ragged as yours, he steps closer, you step back. “Tell me why my friend would do something like this to someone.”

It clicks right then. Satoru’s anger isn’t directed at you.

No, it’s directed at Suguru.

It’s even worse than you thought.

“He—he was better than me. He was supposed to be the best out of all of us. I wanna deny it all that I can but—but I can see the proof right here in front of me. And—And I don’t—” His voice breaks too much to continue.

You’re breaking, too. How many times have you been doing this, over and over again? All alone, with no one to support you. To comfort you.

The words are right there, threatening to bubble out. It’d be so easy to tell Satoru everything.

And maybe you would’ve, but then you looked at him.

Despite how disingenuous Satoru acted, you knew he was kind. The kindest person you’ve ever met. He’d sit there and listen, and he’d break every bone in his body to help. That’s just how he was.

Satoru was selfless, he was selfless enough to kill his best friend here and now if it meant he’d save the millions in Tokyo.

You can’t put another burden on the strongest.

You can’t do that to a kid.

“It—it isn’t him.” You manage to spit out. “He isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s not his fault.

It’s the curses. They were too much for him; they overtook his body. Suguru couldn’t control them anymore.”

He says nothing. It’s like you’ve put a spell on Gojo somehow, freezing him in place. Satoru can’t do anything but stare at the talking puppet that’s his best friend.

“He lost so many people.” You continue. “Riko, Miss Kuroi, Haibara. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. His body succumbed to the curses, and they took over Shinjuku. That’s how I keep...”

It’s okay to lie like this, you justify to yourself. Because the Suguru, you know—the one with fake smiles, beady eyes, and a broken expression—isn’t the one that Satoru knows. They’re two completely different people. Years—timelines—apart from each other. They aren’t the same.

Even then, you forgave both Sugurus a lifetime ago.

You’d get on your knees if you know that would make a difference. You’d plead and beg and cry if it would get Satoru to drop it. In the end, you can only stare at him.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me.” You whisper. “Believe that I’m making this right. Please, Satoru?”

His eyes. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s gone quiet and dull. The same look he had when he fully awakened his technique. The day he became God.

But he’s not a God. God’s don’t cry.

He leans ever so closely until his head rests on your shoulder. His body shakes.

“You’ll save him, right?” He asks. Gone, is his aura of confidence and resilience. He’s nothing more than a shell. If you feel something stain Suguru’s uniform, you say nothing about it.

You smile anyway.

“I will.” You tell the truth. “I will save him.”

You think of something morbidly funny.

“I’ll die trying.”

His shoulders shake with quiet, genuine laughter, the kind that’s wet and sticks to the top of your mouth.

“That’s fucked up, Greeny.” He whispers.

You hum, reaching up to pat him on the back. It takes another minute before he gathers himself up. His eyes are shiny. Satoru blinks it away.

“Haibara will be okay.” He says with such conviction. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll take care of Suguru, too.”

He doesn’t get it, not yet. He doesn’t understand that Shoko and Satoru and Haibara and Nanami need him. He’ll get it soon, though. You managed to put Suguru on the right path.

For now, it’s all you can do.

“I know you will.”

He scoffs, right then.

“You’re really annoying, you know that? Next time, don’t piss me off like that. Just tell it to me straight.”

Rely on me. Lean on me.

“I’m sorry,” you say and you truly are, “I won’t leave you in the dark from now on. I guess I just forgot that I had a friend in 2006.”

His eyes get a little brighter. “It’s actually 2007—”

“Shut up.” He laughs and it sounds like him again.

You reach out your hand and his grin fades, the tiniest bit. He mirrors you, regardless.

This time, you hesitate.

“You should learn how to be selfish every once in a while.” You tell him. “I won’t fault you if you’re selfish. I don’t think anyone will.

He doesn’t answer that, but his touch is finally warm.

ⴵ

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

It’s today.

You can feel it. You don’t even have to look at the date to know.

The catalyst for December 24th, 2017.

Suguru’s already dressed. You’re currently standing in front of a shotty mirror, watching your reflection.

He looks tired. His smile’s a bit muted. You notice a scar you hadn’t seen before. An unregistered special grade curse, Suguru’s memory gives.

He’s different from when you saw him a year ago, but there’s still a spark in his eye. You cling to that hope, as hard as you can.

You step out of the room. It isn’t Suguru’s. He’d rented accommodations with an older woman and her son for the mission. Their place smelled like home. It made your stomach turn.

She smiles when she sees you coming down stairs. She looks kind; she has the eyes of a mother. You’ll never understand how a person who raised children could do something like this to another.

“Mr. Geto.” She chirps. “I’m so glad you’re awake! Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine.” Better get this done sooner than later. “I should be heading back now, anyways.”

Suguru had already absorbed the curse tormenting the village last night. You can feel the sticky aftertaste in your mouth. He should have left the village yesterday, but the people were insistent he stayed one last day as thanks, feeding him all they could.

Now, it’s obvious that it was a way to butter him up for today.

Her smile grows a bit nervous. She shuffles her feet a bit.

“If it isn't too much.” She starts. “The head of our village asked if you could look at something.” Her eyes darken into disgust.

You fight to keep your smile.

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

It’s worse than you ever could have imagined.

You’ve seen this play out so many times in Suguru’s memories. He reminisces about this moment a lot. Because of that, you knew this scene too, like the back of your hand.

And yet, seeing two children huddled together on the floor. Nothing could prepare you for that.

The village head is saying something. The woman who Suguru roomed with is yelling at the scared kids, but you can’t hear any of that.

Their clothes were dirty and ripped. Their cheeks were hollow, and they looked like they hadn’t eaten for days. Himiko’s eye looks swollen.

The twins.

The first time you saw them, they stepped aside and let Geto kill you. There’s something oddly poetic about you being on the other side.

They tremble as they continue to look at you, flinch whenever that woman raises her voice. They must think Suguru’s here to kill them.

They’re too young to think like that. They’re too young to see the horrors of this world so soon.

It’s a mistake to look towards the end of their cell. Dirty water and dog food.

How could a human do this to them? How could a mother do this to them?

You feel red. It coarses through your blood, your veins, your soul. It feels like there’s lava right underneath your skin. Shuddering, tittering anger.

There’s more than enough fire to burn down an entire village.

‘Suguru,’ you think to your companion, your tormentor, ‘I think I’m starting to get it now.’

You reach for the bars of the cell. The twins shrink away.

“Ah! Mr. Geto, you musn’t get too close to them—”

“I’ll take them.”

“What?” The head of the village asks.

“The children.” You straighten yourself up. “I’ll take them off your hands.”

It’s pointless to do anything to these people. They’re delusional enough to think that they’re in the right. By torturing these children, they’re protecting their own. It’s fear. That’s all it ever was. Even without a curse, it’ll fester on and on until this village is nothing but abandoned homes. There’s no point to punish these people any further.

If you look at the adults a bit too long, you’re afraid of what you’d do, even without Suguru’s interference. Instead, you focus on Himiko and Nanako, looking into their wary gazes. Their hands are so tiny. You could protect them with your own.

When you got out of this backward village, you’d find them something to eat.

ⴵ

You go to Shoko first.

She looks surprised to see the twins. You can’t imagine why. Still, her voice is calm when she speaks to them, setting both of them up in the clinic room. Since you got them into the car, Nanako and Himiko seemed to calm down. Himiko even told you the name of her doll.

A little while later, Yaga comes for a visit. He’s the principal now. Usually, his voice is filled with gruff, but he’s oddly gentle when he speaks to them. Nanako cracks a shy smile.

You can’t escape the ‘we’ll talk later’ look he gives you. Inwardly, you sympathize with Suguru. But a harsh lecture is better than being branded a murderer.

He hasn’t come by, yet. With the twins aided for, you decide to go find him yourself.

Walking through campus feels a little nostalgic. The grounds of the infamous jujutsu technical college are a bright green. It’s summer again. You’ve met so many colorful characters since your time here. You’ve only seen snippets, mere seconds of their lives, and yet it feels like an entire lifetime.

He’s sitting on a bench when you finally see him, nursing a drink. He doesn’t acknowledge you. You have to roll your eyes at his childish behavior, plopping down beside him.

“Hey.” You say first.

“Heard you adopted two kids,” Satoru says, “Never thought Suguru would be a teen mom, but here we are.”

You laugh, light and breathless. The sky is so pretty today.

“I don’t think he’d have it any other way, personally.” You respond.

He reminisces on your words.

“This happened before too?” He asked.

It did. It was a lot less of a happy ending, however.

“Yeah,” you say regardless, “he took good care of them last time. He’ll do the same in this timeline too. I’m sure of it.”

And this time, he’d have help. Shoko, Satoru, his teachers. They’d all be there for him. Suguru’s memories haven’t changed yet, but you know the future you step into will be a different one.

“In any case, I’m glad I got to see jujutsu tech one last time. It’s a beautiful campus.”

“You act like you’re leaving,” Satoru says, uncaring. “You’ll just come back again next month. Or next year.”

You play with your fingers.

“I...won’t be doing that from now on.”

He pauses. Then, he looks at you.

“What?”

You can’t gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t look happy. You find this a bit hard to swallow.

“I fixed the future.” You smile at him. “I finally did it. Suguru won’t break. Himiko and Nanako won’t lose their father. You won’t lose a friend, anymore. There’s no reason for me to keep coming back. You’re all free.”

You phrased the last part as a joke, but Satoru isn’t laughing.

“Wait, you’re leaving? You’re...leaving leaving.”

You nod. “I can’t believe it either.” You still can’t believe you accomplished everything you set out to do. A task that seemed so impossible, now you’re standing on the other side of it.

It wasn’t truly over. Not really, but you were able to get Suguru through the worst of it. Now, you were sure Satoru and Shoko would take up your mantel, pushing Suguru through the finish line. Just like he’ll do to them.

Satoru’s quiet.

“You seem happy.” He notes.

“Well, I did just save everyone, I think I deserve to feel a little good about myself.”

For a moment, you want to ask if it’ll be okay to visit everyone in the future. To see how Shoko and Suguru and Satoru are doing as adults. You stop yourself. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see you. You needed to stop being so greedy.

This, was more than enough.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” Satoru asks.

“You know I can’t do that.” You tell him with a smile.

“Right right.” He laughs, it sounds hollow. “Time travel, bullshit. Makes sense.”

“I’ll miss you.” You tell him.

He straightens himself up.

“I’ll miss you too, old man.” He responds. “You were a lotta’ fun to mess with.”

For once, you aren’t offended by the old man’, comment. If anything, it feels somber.

“Can I ask for some advice?” He suddenly asks. “Y’know what they say, ask the old and wise or whatever.” Okay, now he was starting to push it.

“What is it?”

It’s his turn to shuffle with his fingers.

“What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it?”

You glance at him. He looks earnest. Did something like that even exist for Satoru?

“Something I can’t catch up to?” You ponder out loud. “I guess I’d have to make a big enough ruckus to where it has no choice but to look back.”

He frowns. “That makes no sense. You’re growing senile.”

You laugh. You’ll miss this brat.

You wish you could stay more. You wish you could ask about Haibara, and Shoko, and Nanami, but the clock is ticking.

Suguru’s getting impatient.

“Bye, Satoru.” You reach out your hand.

He scrutinizes it, before clasping it within his own.

“Yeah, Greeny.”

Within a blink, you’re back again in the middle of Shinjuku. December 24th, 7:06 pm.

It’s the same as always. People bustle around you. Children’s laughter. Everything always repeats itself, but you don’t think you can ever get sick of it. You’ll savor this peace for as long as you can.

You reach into your pocket, flicking out a lighter and the first cigarette of the box. You don’t know why you always chose this one. Despite outmaneuvering time itself, perhaps it’s within human nature to follow what’s written stone.

You’ve relived this hour so many times that you can list everything that happens. Down to the exact minute. 7:08- a little girl wearing a red dress walks by. 7:09- a lady with short hair catches your eyes and smiles. 7:14-an old man and woman bicker with each other as they pass you by. 7:21- A little dog sniffs the bench you sit on. 7:34- Two schoolchildren run past you, babbling. 7:45- five construction workers grumble out their grievances. 7:58- a businessman talks loudly on the phone.

You wait. You sit on a bench and wait until 8:06.

Five seconds after 8:06. Twenty seconds after 8:06.

The clock clicks to 8:07.

You were expecting to feel something else. Celebration. Elation. You half-expected to cause a scene and jump for joy right there in the streets of Shinjuku.

None of that comes. There’s just a feeling of relief. A weight presses you down, and you slump in your seat.

It was over.

It was finally over.

How long do you stay like that? Hours? Days? When you feel like you can finally breathe again, it’s only 8:12. Time travel warped your sense of time.

You stand up, stretch, feel your bones crack and pop. In the second timeline, you wanted to get a drink to drown your misery of nearly getting killed by a curse and being alone on December 24th. It felt like a lifetime ago when being single was the worst of your problems.

Honestly, you’d stay celibate for the rest of your life if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through that ever again.

Tomorrow, you’ll decompress and devolve into hysteria over what happened.

Next week, you’ll check yourself into therapy.

Today, you decide to go home and sleep for a couple hundred years.

You must look like a zombie with the way you wobble down the street. Physically, your body is perfectly fine. You’ve suffered no bruises or cuts. Even the numerous times you’ve been killed leaves nothing on your skin.

Mentally, you’re in shambles. The indomitable human spirit within you is snuffed out.

The stairs to your flat is your last enemy that you must vanquish before you can reunite with your adoring bed. You cling onto the railing with dazed eyes. You don’t see the curse until you’re right before it.

Distantly, you wonder how often you’ve passed a curse and didn’t even realize it. It’s almost instinct to reach out with your hand, intent on absorbing it.

Nothing happens. You remember you aren’t Suguru anymore.

It’s a grotesque-looking thing. No eyes, too many hands, a gaping mouth. It turns and looks at you.

Strange. Its’ smile mirrors the one in the abandoned house.

Adrenaline. You feel it coarse through your veins, meld into your bones, explode in your skin. You’re stumbling back, nearly tripping down the steps in your haste to get away.

It screeches. Loud and clear and angry and you can almost feel its teeth chomp on your leg, ripping your muscles and skin to mere tatters.

You’ve died before. You’ve been skinned alive before. You’ve been eaten before. Yet, it all amounts to nothing compared to the fear you feel at the thought of the curse catching you.

It can’t have been nothing more than a third grade. If you were taller, larger, special-grade, you could have killed it immediately. But you weren’t, not anymore, you were at the same level as a plant. Useless. Helpless.

A dead man stumbling, tripping, running.

The streets were quiet. You supposed that meant there’d be fewer casualties. But it didn’t make you feel any better. And even if there were people around, no one would have been able to help you.

Your brain isn’t working as clearly. Fear is the only thing that guides you. You’re reduced to a rat scampering through a maze. Sooner or later, that rodent reaches a dead end.

The alleyway was blocked off. You felt the rough brick wall scrape your hands and even the feeling of your raw skin couldn’t assuage your heart pumping in your throat. When you whirled your head back, it was right there, and you knew you were dead.

Again.

It might kill you, if it’s feeling generous. It might cut your legs off and watch you bleed, if its feeling kind. It might eat you, if it’s a decent curse.

It shouldn’t be happening. You fixed it. You were supposed to have fixed everything. But clearly you didn't. There must have been some piece of the puzzle that you forgot. You need to go back. You need to fix things, but why do you need to why can't he just leave you alone—

You don’t see what happens. One moment, the curse is there. The next it isn’t.

“Those things are so annoying.” The newcomer complains.

No, not new. You know him.

You blink. He grins. It’s kind. A toothy smile that warms.

“You alright?” He asks in sympathy. “Curses are pretty scary, aren’t they? Are you hurt?”

It’s him. You weren’t in 2006. You were in the present, here and now, and he was here with you.

He actually made it.

“Ma’am?” He asks.

It wasn’t intentional. You just blurted it out, the promise you made to him. It was a decade for him. Mere hours for you.

“Um, broccoli head...?” And then you instantly regret it.

Haibara Yu takes a minute, eyes squinting like you just grew a new head.

Then, he gasps.

“Greeny?”

ⴵ

A few minutes later, you’re seated at a restaurant. Haibara has not shut up.

“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again ‘cuz Gojo said you weren’t gonna be around anymore, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

“—Haibara.” You interrupt. “Please, slow down.”

He stops himself, right when the server comes with drinks. He shoots the waiter a smile, and then he’s back on you.

“Sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I—I got a little excited. And nervous. It’s just...well, I didn’t expect you to be a girl.”

That might have been your fault. Both Haibara and Gojo kept referring to you as a man, so you decided to roll with it. Earlier, you would have justified it by insisting the less they know about you, the better. Now, you just think you were being petty.

“So, how you’ve been? A whole decade...” You murmur to yourself.

“Fine! But what about you?” Haibara asks, concern etched into his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Wow, he was actually worried for you. Despite being in Suguru’s body, you didn’t really feel like part of the group Shoko, Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara were part of. You felt like an outsider, being somewhere you didn’t belong. It's because you were an outsider. Nevertheless, it’s nice to know one person missed you.

“This might be a little hard to believe, but I just came back to 2017 two hours ago.”

Haibara gapes.

“Wait, so to you, that whole thing happened, today?” You nod. He leans back in his chair.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh at his awe.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way.” You change the topic. “From the curse.”

He waves it off. “I was just paying my debt. From what you did for me all those years ago.”

Ah, Gojo must have told him. Oddly enough, Haibara doesn't seem all that perturbed that he shouldn’t exist currently. At the same time, it feels just like Haibara.

He’s different from when he was younger. Taller. The baby fat is gone. His face is more built, just like the rest of his body. His eyes are less round, but they haven’t lost the spark. A few scars here and there, but he’s all in one piece.

You weren’t able to see what he looked like as an adult from Suguru’s memories, he’d never grown up. But now, you can see it for yourself. You can see the active change you made in his life, to his life.

“Haibara—”

“Yu—” He says seriously. “My friends call me Yu.”

A smile twitches on your lips.

“Tell me about everyone.” You scoot your chair closer. “You, Suguru. How is everyone doing?”

He perks up at that, clearly delighted to be talking.

“Great! Everyone’s doing great! You should totally come visit the school, sometime. They’d love to see you. Uh, even if they don’t technically know you, but I’m sure they’ll love to meet you!” He rambles, and it’s nice to know he hasn’t changed from his younger self.

“Let’s see, Kento’s teaching the first years. I teach the second years—”

“—You’re a teacher?”

He nods. “We all are! Except for Shoko, but she has her own thing going on. Anyway, Mimiko and Nanako have become second-grade semi-sorcerors. Isn’t that incredible? I’m just a first grade semi-sorceror, and at their young ages too! But Suguru wasn’t surprised, he kept saying his girls were prodigies. Oh! You probably want to know about Suguru too, right?”

You nod. Even if you hadn’t done anything, you don’t think that would have stopped his enthusiasm.

“He’s a teacher too! At least, for right now. Yaga’s been wanting to retire, and there have been talks of Suguru becoming the next principal. Principal Geto has a ring to it, right? Oh, and Shoko is currently planning the wedding. You’ll definitely be invited, of course! She said I could bring a plus-one. Oh, and—”

It goes on like that for hours, you think. Not that you mind. You listen to Yu babble on and on about his friends, his students. He talks about Nanami’s recent baking addiction, Shoko’s new office cat, Suguru’s favorite tea pot. It’s a never-ending surge of information.

Eventually, you catch on to the fact that he’s deliberately leaving someone out.

"Yu?" You interrupt him while he's talking about the prank the fourth year pulled on Nanami. "What about Satoru? What's he up to?"

Maybe you were overthinking things. Haibara likes to talk; perhaps he forgot to exclude someone else's story in his rants. But then, he grimaces. For the first time in this entire conversation, Haibara is reluctant to talk.

"Satoru is..." He winces, and your hands turn into fists.

No. No. You were supposed to save everyone. Why hadn't you saved everyone?

A warm hand grips your own. You'd been shaking.

Yu gives a soft smile, and you remember he's no longer younger than you.

"He's not dead." He assures you, but his smile fades. He straightens himself up, and his hand pulls away.

"Satoru defected from Jujutsu tech. We don't know where he is."

What? You must have misheard him wrong. Satoru wouldn't do that. That's not like him. This is some sick joke.

But there's no teasing grin on Haibara. His face is grave. You hate it more than anything.

"It happened when he was a fourth year. No one really knows what happened. Suguru refuses to say anything about it, but I think he's just as confused as the rest of us. It came outta nowhere."

Yeah, it definitely came out of nowhere. It's so random. Why would Satoru do that? The last time you saw him, he was so happy. He was smiling; he teased you. What happened? It made no sense.

"So, you haven't seen him for nine years?" You ask. "Not even a glimpse?"

Yu shakes his head. "Nothing but his residuals. That's how we know he's still alive."

Nothing computes in your brain. None of it made any sense. You saved Suguru. That was supposed to make everyone happy, including Satoru. Why would he turn around and do this? Defecting made no sense.

"We've actually been tasked to execute him. Since he’s been branded a curse user, all four of us. " Yu laughs with no humor. "Isn't that insane? I don't think any one of us could even fathom doing that, even if it were possible."

It wasn't possible. Gojo was the strongest. Nothing could go toe to toe with him. Once he put his mind to something, no one could stop him.

But maybe you could.

You're shutting that idea down immediately. You were done. You were done with dying and time-travel and strange powers. You wanted it all to be over. It'd be so easy to thank Haibara for the nice meal, to go home and sleep this entire day off. Satoru dug his own grave, he can go lay in it. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions. You wouldn’t. You can’t do that another time.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?

You hate that brat so much.

You close your eyes. Take in a breath. Then, you open them.

"Haibara?" You ask. "Did Gojo tell you how my technique worked?"

He shakes his head. You grimace because convincing him might take a while.

"Okay, well, I'll need you to do a tiny favor for me."

ⴵ

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, you're back already?" Satoru says casually, turning back to gaze at you. "I just left today. How did you convince Haibara to snap your neck? That guy cries after killing a mosquito.”

You’d caught him just as he was leaving campus. Yu’s body was less athletic than Suguru’s. Your breath was slightly ragged, pulled down by minor exhaustion.

It doesn’t weigh down your frustration for Gojo Satoru. The biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

“Shut up.” You snap. “Just answer the question.”

“We haven’t seen each other for a year and that’s how you react?” Satoru ignores you. “That’s mean, Greeny. How ‘bout we discuss my treason over steak. Haibara can pay.”

“Satoru.” You beg, “Why are you doing this? What’s the point? Why is everyone happy with their life except for you?”

That seems to get him. His posture stiffens ever so slightly. You can see him work his jaw. He finally drops his act.

“You didn’t have to come back, y’know.” He murmurs quietly. “You could’ve just stayed in the future. Like you said, Greeny, everyone’s happy with their life. 4 outta’ five. That’s a passing grade.”

For once, you wish you could possess him. You wished you could open his brain and peer into his memories until he finally made sense.

“I could never leave you behind like that.” You say the truth just as quietly. “I’ll die a thousand more deaths than do that.”

He smiles. It looks genuine as it looks painful.

“Yeah, I know. I know you, Greeny. Always gotta’ play hero.” He gives a bitter laugh. “That’s why I defected.”

You stare at him. He’s a fourth-year now, even taller than before. You aren’t equal to him anymore in this body, now you’re starting to think you never were.

“Satoru.” You start because what he’s saying can’t be the truth. Your heart broke and broke. “Did—did you leave—did you leave everyone for a decade just so I’d come back? Why would you do that to yourself?”

He doesn’t say anything. Then, he steps forward, just a bit.

“It’s your fault,” Satoru says like it’s instinct to blame you for his actions, “this was your idea.”

What’s he talking about? And then memories of the two of you sitting on that bench just outside of campus.

What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it? So that’s what he meant. You were an idiot.

“That’s not fair, Satoru,” you say regardless, “I—I never—I couldn’t expect you’d do this.”

“What choice did I fucking have, Greeny?” There’s rapid steps and he’s in front of you, desperate and wild. “You—you just left me here. You left me alone and I couldn’t even look for you because I know nothing about you. Your face, your eyes, your hair, not even your fucking name! How’s that fair?”

It’s true. It’s all true. As much as you tried to claim you tried to make everyone happy, you only focused on Suguru. And Suguru’s happiness enlisted space from the strongest. In a different timeline, things would be different between them. A button he never left behind. Words Satoru never said. That timeline held too much pain and suffering, so you scrubbed it from history. In this rendition, everything was changed. Suguru had Shoko. Yu had Kento. Who did Satoru have?

You saved Suguru in this timeline. But to save him, you neglected Satoru.

Satoru must have known. He must have known you intentionally distanced Suguru from him, but he allowed it anyway. Satoru’s selfless like that. Too giving. Too Godlike.

But he’s selfish too. Purposefully demeaning himself so he could get one more glimpse of you, uncaring if you went through hell for his sake. Too taking. Too human.

Once, you told him that if he was selfish, just once, you wouldn’t fault him. What a liar you are.

You forgive Satoru.

“I’m sorry.” Haibara’s voice is like your own. You step closer. His infinity lets you in. “I’m sorry Satoru. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

It’s hard to wrap him in a hug. The brat’s too big. He sinks into your touch like a tiger, filled with dangerous claws, retracted just for your sake. He shakes the tiniest bit; even now, he’s keeping himself as a pinnacle. If you hear a sniffle or two, you don’t comment on it.

It’s why your heart breaks to tell him the truth.

“I can’t give you my name.” You whisper in his ear. He pulls back. He doesn’t look at you.

“Yeah, I know. I know. time-travel bullshit—”

“For now.” You add. “I can’t do that for now.”

Three pairs of eyes look at you. You’re not hiding behind Haibara anymore. You’re not trying to.

“December 24th, 2017. 8:06. Tokyo Skytree.” You look at him. “Can you wait until then?”

For you, it’d only be an hour. For Satoru, it’d be a decade.

You expect him to reject it, to yell at you. You decide if he wants to be selfish; you’d let him.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll turn evil.” You laugh. His grin widens and he’s back again. “I’m serious. I’ll take over the world. I’ll throw the biggest temper tantrum ever.”

“You’re such a brat.” There’s no hostility in your tone. “I will. I promise.”

‘I’ll save you,’ You promise in your head because he’s too prideful to hear it.

“Is it still possible for you to go back?” You ask, the wariness present again. “The higher ups haven’t taken any action against you, right?”

He shakes his head.

“I think Yaga might yell at me, but other than that.” He shrugs. “They’ll decide it’s teen rebellion and sweep it under the rug.”

You laugh again. Satoru shoots you a toothy grin.

When you reach out a hand, Satoru mirrors you. He clasps your hand in his. For once, you wonder how they’ll feel on your own.

“See ya’ later, Greeny.”

A blink. Satoru’s gone. Your hand is empty, and you’re standing in the streets of Shinjuku once again.

ⴵ

December 24th, 2017. 8:06, at the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

Why did you decide on that date and time for all the places? You were so fucking stupid. You needed to stop being so poetic.

It’s already 7:12 when you’re desperately waving down a taxi. The driver looks disinterested when you blubber out the location. When he tells you it’ll cost extra because Sumida City isn’t part of his route, you’re more than happy to fork over the money.

It’s already 7:35 when you stumble through the interiors of Tokyo Skytree town. It’s crowded. Fuck, it’s December 24th, of course people would be out and about.

At 7:44, you finally reach the observational building. And then you hit upon a snag.

It’s closed.

Renovations, the sign reads, accompanied by an irritatingly cute drawing of a cat, please come visit us next week.

Would this excuse be enough to satisfy Satoru? You’re only human. Surely he’d understand if you couldn’t make it because the entire building was shut down.

Or wait. Was this Satoru’s doing?

You look up at the tower. Lights were still on and flickering. No crowds. No people. No prying eyes.

Let it be known that you’ve never trespassed before, until you met Gojo Satoru.

With a guilty conscious, you step over the line. You justify it by convincing yourself you were saving the world because you know Satoru wasn’t joking a decade ago.

The elevators still worked. Thank God. Yet another hint he’s paving the way for you. You made the location, but it feels like you’re a mouse stuck in a human-designed maze. Even though you set up the game, he’s still managed to rig it.

You land on the first deck at 7:52. At 7:56, you reach the second observational deck.

It’s empty. You’ve never seen the skytree so empty before. Not a single soul is here except for you. Your footsteps echo across the floor. Were you early?

Out the corner of your eye, there’s a post-it note stuck on the window. A hand-drawn arrow. Up ahead, there’s another one.

You follow the next, and then the next. All the time you don’t know how to feel about him doing all of this just for an encounter. Something bubbles in your stomach. You’re pushing it down.

You follow the post-its until there’s one placed right on top of a door.

Authorized personnel only. Why does this brat continue to test you?

But it’s already 8:03; you’re far too deep to complain.

A service elevator greets you. If you press the button, it’ll take you all the way up to the broadcast equipment, the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

It’s different from the past two elevator rides. The service elevator isn’t all that polished. The wheels squeak a little too dangerously at times. It’s slower, too.

That’s bad, because now you’re starting to think.

That familiar feeling boils within your stomach, again. You’re anxious. It’s strange to say, but meeting Satoru through Suguru, meeting Satoru through Yu, it felt like you had a protective shell around yourself. You were free from his judgement, only invoking curiosity.

If you show yourself to him, how would he react? What would he say? Would he get angry that you made him wait a decade for such a blunder? Even worse, what if he doesn’t get angry?

What if—what if he’s disappointed by you?

Cold feet. It freezes your toes. You want to go back. You want the elevator to go back down, you want to go home and hide away.

But you promised Satoru. He deserves answers.

Pathetic answers are better than no answers at all.

Instead of your soul being protected by a sorcerer's body, it’s protected by your own. You’d steel yourself for whatever comes next. You could melt after.

It’s windy up here. That’s the first thing you notice. Icy wind cuts at your face and your eyes squint so they don’t dry out so quickly. It’s colder, too; your jacket is nice protection, but nothing helps your vulnerable hands.

But the view. Oh, what a view.

The sea of twinkling lights shines from the city. The sun has set, leaving Tokyo to do nothing but shine. She’s gorgeous like she’s picked the stars from the sky, burying them within her own soul. You could stay there forever, if she let you.

It’s 8:09. Satoru was late.

Or maybe he just wasn’t planning to show up.

You lean away from the railing. It’s just like him to make huge gestures and at the last moment, ditch everything. The balloon in your lungs deflates ever so slightly.

And then, you can feel hands.

Around your shoulders, caging you in. Large and warm despite the icy air. You know these hands. They’re familiar, even a decade later. His chest presses up against your back. His face settles in the crook of your neck.

His laugh tickles your ear, and you aren’t so cold anymore.

“Caught ya, Greeny.”

(“Did something happen to you, back there in the house?”

"Hm?" Suguru asked.

They were wading through long grass and overgrown weeds. Satoru glances at his friend. Suguru looks fine. His cursed energy has gone back to normal. That's probably good.

"You were just acting weird," Satoru said, "I mean you fell on your ass in front of a curse. Embarrassing."

Suguru huffed, a red hue across his cheeks. "Shut up, don't remind me."

'So he remembered,' Satoru thinks, 'didn't expect that.'

They're almost to the car when Suguru speaks again.

"Actually, I did feel a little strange," he says, "I felt like I wasn't really all there. There was this voice, guiding me along."

"Really?" Satoru shivers. "That sounds creepy."

So the entity within Suguru was a bad thing after all. He should try to get rid of it if it ever comes back. It might take a complex spell or something-

"Not really." Suguru said. "It's hard to explain, but it felt....nice."

"Nice?" Satoru echoes.

"Yeah."

And then it's quiet again.)

Part two: Rewound Infinitely

#yandere #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #time travel fix it #a crumbling storyline #platonic haibara x reader #dark content #f!reader #implied romance #tw:blood/violence #tw: child abuse #unrequited feelings #ambiguous ending #BUT its a positive one

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sqtorux · 11 months ago

Text

jjk men when you call them your husband

includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji and sukuna

requested !

wasn't sure if anon wanted an smau or a written one for this so i turned it into a drabble ahahah

gojo: he'd be listening to you yap with an endearing look, half registering what you're saying and mostly just admiring you until that one word would snap him out of his own thoughts. he'd let you continue but then let out a chuckle, not being able to contain himself. when asked why he'd just kiss you on the lips “i can't wait to marry you.”

geto: “how could my husband be prettier than me?” at his geto would just laugh. he would then pull you closer into his arms and utter words of how he finds you the prettiest, most beautiful person to exist. when asked if he isn't flustered at you calling him your husband he'd just shrug “we're basically married already” the slight redness in his cheeks and the tips of his ears with the twitching on the corner of his lips says otherwise about his nonchalant front.

nanami: nanami always knew he would get married to you. but when he heard the word ‘husband’ coming from your lips he still blushes. nanami isn't one to express himself much but he finds himself doing so around you. he'd fix his tie and then mess with his glasses and when inquired about his behaviour he gently caresses your hands, imagining the band of metal to grace your finger that he'd get you soon. “i’m glad we're on the same page about our future”

choso: “husband? are you sure?” you knew what he'd meant by this. he's a half curse and that fact always bothered him but not you. you'd tell him that you didn't care about anything of that sort and he'd cry. choso is a very fragile person and very emotional in contrast to the stoic appearance he has. you adored that part of him so much. “hell we're not even married yet and i’m already crying this much” he'd say between sniffles as you rub his back comfortingly.

toji: you were skeptical about doing this prank on him because he's been married and it was a heavy topic. you did not want to remind him or yourself of it but your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to slip it out anyway. silence followed and your heart sank. you look away and scolded yourself mentally for this. hearing him shift you expected him to walk out but he didn't. he pulls you into an embrace and whispers a bunch of i love yous into your ears. he wasn't a good person particularly but a good husband? he was sure as hell he'd try his hardest for you.

sukuna: “what was that?” you'd hesitate to repeat yourself but his authorative voice would make you do whatever he says. “... my husband” you'd stutter and he'd shake his head. “say that with more pride, i’d like my queen to actually like being my queen”. upon being reminded that this wasn't the heian era anymore he'd speak of the prestige he'd use to have and the privileges that come along with it. you'd be annoyed and tell him to return and fool around with his numerous concubines before storming off. he'd however, would stop you and drag you back “i wasn't done. all that prestige could not compare to a lifetime with you. you'll be my queen, heian era or not.”

it just kept getting longer as it went on lmao

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reignpage · 2 months ago

Text

Frat Boy!Gojo

Cosmopolitan: sober thoughts

Word Count: 6.1k Contents: their first date, cursing, a little angsty, but mostly fluffy, not proofread (barely skimmed this so again, dunno how much sense it makes)

“Before you get any bright ideas, just know I’m sharing my location with at least ten people.”

Whistling, the biggest pain in your ass saunters over to you

The moon is full, a big white orb that would otherwise bring you a lot of peace to look at but right now, only pisses you off for reasons you’d rather not spend too much time pondering. Rarely anyone comes around these parts; it’s at the very edge of the city, a half-hour drive from campus, and surrounded by miles of dull, old suburbia. You’re standing in front of a metal gate, slightly taller than you, with vines wrapping around the pickets. It swings slowly with every gust of wind, creaking before it meets the stone wall with a bang.

Gojo grimaces.

“Seriously, did you have to choose the scariest place in all of Eden? I mean, I respect the commitment to the aesthetic, but this is just crazy,” he grumbles, eyeing the cathedral from its huge marble pillars to the sharp spires piercing the night sky.

You roll your eyes. Trust him to leave the date planning to you just to complain every step of the way. You’re already regretting playing along with whatever games he’s conjured up this time, but at least you’ve got home turf advantage; you know this place like the back of your hand. There won’t be any surprises happening tonight.

Without replying, you walk off, heading straight through the gate.

“Hey, wait! Don’t leave me here. I don’t want to end up as a statistic.”

Shrugging, you say, “If you’re scared, you can go back home.”

When he doesn’t say a thing and follows you, you smile. You win. But that feeling of victory doesn’t last very long because then he starts muttering about the cobwebs and how they’re everywhere, then about the tombstones, how they’re so messy with moss covering the engravings and that ‘the spirits must definitely be like so mad about all that’, and when you don’t respond to any of his musings, he even complains about the eerie music foreshadowing his pending doom, like in Jaws.

There is no music.

“Where are we even going?” He pokes your shoulder, snatching his hand back faster than you can swat at it. “I thought we were going to, I don’t know, have a picnic under the stars and cuddle on top of someone’s grave, like Mary Shelley did.”

“How the fuck do you even know about that?”

Gojo lifts one shoulder. “Must have heard it online or something.”

You roll your eyes again — you have a feeling you’ll be doing a lot of that tonight, maybe even for the rest of your life if things go the way your parents plan. When you had first found out the village idiot is the president of the most sought-after fraternity of the most prestigious university in the country, you thought maybe no one else had stepped up. But then you found out he’s a Legacy --the Gojos have governed that fraternity since its conception -- and well, the pieces fell into place.

Mischief no doubt sparkling in your eyes, you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are full of suspicion and when they meet yours, he becomes even more doubtful of your intentions. With a grin, you whisper, “We’re going someplace no one will hear you scream.”

“Kinky.”

That didn’t have the desired effect. How annoying. Though you don’t fail to notice how he moves in closer to you, his warmth radiating to your body through your black, fur cloak. You don’t shift away.

Gesturing for him to follow you through a gap in a wooden fence, you squeeze through to avoid splinters, pulling at your dress when a piece of lace catches on a nail. Just as you’re about to offer advice on how to contort his body to get through, he climbs over the fence and lands on his feet without stumbling, all in one quick sweep, like he’s who wanders these hallowed grounds at night and not you.

“What?” He asks when he spots your glare.

Not even those stupid sunglasses are out of place. Very annoying, indeed.

“Come quickly,” you bark, fixing your silk gloves to cover more of your skin as the chill settles in. It’s only six in the evening, and yet there’s no hint of light in the broad expanse above you, just the moon and the stars lighting your way, and occasionally your companion’s phone flashlight when he needs to look at what he’s stepped in.

He laughs. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“Do you make it a habit to talk about your sex life with a girl on a first date?”

“You’re the first, so not a habit. Not yet anyways.”

Screeching to a halt, your hand clutches his elbow to still him. Your jaw is slack and you’re staring, completely disbelieving. “There’s no way this is your first date. You took that girl to the casino.”

Gojo stares off into the distance as he ponders the notion, fingers tapping his chin. Then, he insists, “No, it really is my first date. And anyways, I don’t consider that night a date; she pretty much invited herself along. It was more like I was just taking her to the casino as her escort. Or maybe that does count as a date. If so, then I’ve been on a lot of dates. But none where I’ve actually used the word date. Does that even matter because —“

You wave a hand in front of his face to cut off his rambling; he talks way too much. “So, you’re telling me, I’m the first girl you’ve ever asked out on a date? That’s insane, Gojo. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests with a frown.

“You sure acted like you did for months,” you counter.

He insists, “I don’t hate you. Never did. I just acted out but yeah, I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and continue walking. “It’s fine. Water under the bridge.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I can get on my knees and beg.”

“Don’t tempt me, Gojo.”

He catches up to you and hums a playful tune, his light mood returning; Serious Gojo is gone like he never existed. “Guess that’s what you’re into, huh?”

“You’ll never know,” you snort, pushing a branch away from your face and letting it snap back into his chest, he yelps.

His hand reaches past you, lifting a thicker branch high above the both of you, before leaning close to your ear and whispering conspiratorially, “We’ll see.”

Disregarding the shiver than runs through you, you push on, moving almost on muscle memory alone. Your mind is attempting to distract itself by scanning the area, being careful not to be caught on church grounds after hours, pushing through the woodland to get to the clearing tucked away at the very back, where you go for peace and quiet.

Truthfully, you have no idea why you decided to have this date here, of all places. This place is sacred. Literally but also figuratively — this is the place you always ran to when the world got a little too loud, a little too busy and bright for you. No one else knows about this haven as far as you’re aware and you always thought you’d do anything to keep it that way. And yet, you’re showing it to him. Actually, guiding him to the place.

You should have at least blindfolded him so he couldn’t memorise the way.

Maybe you wanted to spite him by living up to his expectations and being the gothic monster that he thinks you are -- you want to scare him off before he lets his curiosity take him too close to something that might scald him. He needs to be afraid of you.

Or maybe you recognised that shadow in his eyes, the ones that suggests he’s lost as much sleep about this whole farce as you and thought he could do with a little silence.

You both arrive at a thick bush, a massive wall of a shrub towering over even Gojo. Behind you, the cathedral is only a blob, lit up by lanterns, whereas you’re both submerged in darkness; there are no streetlamps here.

“I’m totally going to be murdered here, aren’t I?” He whistles as if to say, ‘it’s been a good life, and I’ll have to just accept my fate’.

“Yeah, I was lying when I said it was all water under the bridge. I’ve actually been colluding with the devil to sacrifice your white ass.”

Gojo laughs.

He laughs a lot, but rarely like this, you note. He chuckles when his friends do something stupid like push him into the fountain, and he snorts when he reads the most recent article on The Bulletin. But you’ve never really seen him throw his head back and clutch his stomach, at least not with anyone but you. He does it when you get caught texting him under the dinner table, when you give him the middle finger from across the Quad, and that one time you bumped into him in the hallway and almost apologised before you realised it was him.

It’s the kind of laugh that’s infectious, and you hoped every time he does it that you’re somehow immune. However, when he looks at you with a brightening sparkle in his eyes, you realise you’re very much not.

You clear your throat again.

“Through here, is a very special place. You must swear you will not desecrate this place, lest the Mother Crone curse you for your treachery,” you announce, wiggling your fingers at him for extra flair.

Placing a hand on his heart, he stomps his foot like a soldier and swears, “I would never. I will take this secret to the grave.”

Satisfied, you grab the loose part of the hedge wall and pull it aside to reveal the little doorway to your secret hideout. He throws you a side glance before he ducks down and enters. You follow behind him, tucking the disguised door behind you.

He doesn’t say a thing as you zoom to the side where you grope for something in the grass, right under part of the hedge. When you feel the smooth, cold plastic, you don’t hesitate to switch it on.

Long wires of fairy lights light up, bulb by bulb, along the top of the hedge and down, like a really wide Christmas tree circling the hidden clearing. You hear him mutter a ‘woah’ under his breath as he scans the area — there’s only one thing here on the flat ground, it’s also lit up fairy lights along the top pole. It’s your most prized possession.

“You have a swing?” He shouts incredulously. Giggling like a child, he makes a run for it, jumping onto one of the two seats where he rocks back and forth on his feet. Then he’s whooping as he swings higher and higher, hair whooshing back and forth as he grins, taking in the cold autumnal air and the growing warmth of the lights. “This is freaking awesome!”

Sitting on the spare seat, you kick your feet gently so you can swing a little. Deep down there was a worry festering within, anxious that he would find this place boring, that he’d scoff at your idea of fun especially on a first date, but looking up at him, still hollering and grinning, you think, that was such a silly thought.

Gojo slows to a mild back and forth momentum and wonders, “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here? This place seems pretty private, like your own mancave or something. Do girls have a version of a mancave? ‘Womancave?”

In the corner of your eye, you see him clamber down to sit as you answer his question. “I wouldn’t have taken you here if you weren’t allowed, dumbass.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still not convinced this isn’t an elaborate scheme to murder me and hide my body in a grave.”

“Neither.” You shrug.

He laughs.

Eventually, you both swing side by side, alternating up and then down. The wind is howling a little, rustling the trees surrounding you and the moon’s obscured by dark cloud. Neither you nor he say anything to break the silence. You were also worried that you’d come to hate his presence in your safe space, finding his tall, lanky presence an irritation, but surprisingly, you don’t mind it.

It’s nice to have company.

Especially when that company is keeping his mouth shut.

“How often do you come here?”

Or not.

With a sigh, you reply, “Like twice a week. I can’t come as often as I’d like because of all the classes and stuff, not to mention all the wedding planning we have to do.”

“Guess you have it worse than me since I don’t even need to be fitted for a suit; they already have my measurements,” he muses.

“For whatever reason, it’s always the women who have to plan these things, even though it’s the men that propose.” You accidentally make eye contact with him. “Or at least, that’s how it usually goes.”

Gojo hums, a little sheepishly, before he changes the subject. “So, how did you find this place?”

“We buried my grandmother in the graveyard when I was fifteen. We were close and I took the loss pretty hard. I couldn’t stand all the people pretending they cared so I ran off, got lost and found this clearing. Well, I actually fell through the hedge, but I found it, nonetheless. And this swing was here already. I don’t know how long it’s been here or why it’s here, but it is.”

“That sounds like a fairytale.” He swivels, swinging a long leg over to straddle the seat, facing you as he leans back against the metal chain. “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. I lost my grandmother too and it was rough.”

You saw that on the news years ago, it was one of those private family events that make the national headlines by complete virtue of the family name. Your parents grieved in public like it was their own loss and you didn’t understand why. Of course, as you got older, you became more and more acquainted with the idea of ‘reputation’ and ‘public image’, but you still feel that same distance to the concept as you did when you were but a child.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you repeat back to him.

He shrugs. “It’s alright. I’ve got my gramps. We’re best buddies.”

“You have a lot of best buds, don’t you?”

Gojo strikes you as the kind of guy who makes friends easily, thought you question the depth of most of those friendships; sincerity is a rare phenomenon in your world.

“No,” he huffs, “I have Suguru, the girl that gave you my number, and gramps. I have lots of close friends, though.”

Considering his words, you realise you don’t have any best friends. Sure, you have friends you hang out with often, people that share your interest, that you can party with, but none you feel as strongly about as he does with those three people. You can hear it in his voice, the conviction, the pride, the confidence. And when you glance at him, you know he doesn’t even realise how defensive he sounds about his people.

How nice it must be to have someone like him as a friend.

“We could be friends, if you’d like,” he offers, and when you look at him with confusion, he adds, “You said it out loud, silly. You think I’m a good person to be friends with. Which, of course I am. I’m like super awesome.”

You burst out laughing. What he said isn’t even funny and he certainly doesn’t mean for it to be, but for some reason it is. So, you laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach. He makes noises of complaints, telling you it’s rude to laugh at people. That makes you laugh harder.

“Gojo, be serious for a second. We can’t be friends, idiot,” you push out between puffs of laughter.

He frowns, lips twitching to fight back a smile at your flushed face. “Why not? We’re getting along fine right now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, for now. But we’re going to be married. Or at least, we’re supposed to be. And think of all the complications that brings, it just doesn’t provide the conditions for a healthy friendship, especially considering our beginning. Think of all the people in our circle who had arranged marriages. How many of them get along? Like, really get along. Hell! Think about our parents.”

“Well, we could be different. We don’t have to end up like them. We can break the cycle or something.”

You stop laughing.

Something shifts in the air, like the moon’s reappeared, the wind’s slowed down, and his eyes shine just a little brighter. It’s sudden and you almost don’t notice it, almost shrug it off. But there’s a sincerity lingering between you and it demands your attention.

Fixing him a solemn look, perhaps similar to the one he gave you before, you assert, “That sounds an awful like an admission of surrender, Gojo.”

“Maybe it is.”

The speed at which he concedes, the sheer resolution in his eyes and the way he doesn’t falter when he says it all scream at you something you won’t accept. Can’t.

He grips your elbow, his long fingers wrapping around the limb with ease, demanding your attention. The sombre expression on his ghostly face haunts you. It’s like he’s shifted into a different person, into someone years older, a man burdened with great responsibility.

“I’m sorry. About how I started this year off. I regretted everything I said as soon as I said them. I can’t even remember why I said and did those things, but I definitely don’t have a good reason,” he rasped, a desperation lacing his words like he needs you to understand, like he tosses and turns over it. “I know you’re just as much a victim of this as I am, but I was facing a problem I didn’t know to solve, and I lashed out. At you. At someone who didn’t deserve it. And I’m sorry.”

You reel back, snatching your arm away. His touch burns the way ice does, and you have to rub warmth back into it, despite the layers between your skin and his. The sincerity in his eyes is alien, revealing far more about the ongoings of reality than you can absorb in one night. Confusingly, your heart is pounding to the beat of a song you’ve never heard before.

This date thing, taking him to your secret haven, giving him the opportunity to see you not as the enemy but rather as a woman was a mistake. It’s all one big mistake. It would have been fine if he had stayed as the Gojo you knew, the boisterous, obnoxious party animal that cares only about immediate gratification. But the man in front of you is not someone you can marry. He isn’t the type of man you can be around and feel absolutely nothing for.

“I’m hungry,” you mutter, standing abruptly.

He looks up at you, something passing in his eyes, almost akin to disappointment or sadness, and you can’t bear to think about what that could mean, so you simply gesture for him to follow you.

In silence, you walk back the way you came, using your phone’s flashlight to navigate through the thick haze of darkness. This was a mistake; you let him in for a second, gave him a glimpse into your life, and you aren’t even sure why. Was it because you could hear your mother’s voice telling you to do whatever it takes to drag the man to the altar or because, despite yourself, you actually wanted to see what going on a date with Gojo means?

Maybe it was both.

Or neither.

You’re losing more and more of yourself these days, doing things you’d never thought you’d do for one reason or another, and you no longer even know what you want. Your pride or your family? A marriage with Gojo or the friendship he’s offering? Is there’s a third option.

“What’d you wanna eat?” He asks, rocking back and forth on his feet as he stares up at a streetlight.

You’ve both made it back onto the main road, the swings a mile away. He didn’t press the topic more, simply walked beside you and pushed branches away like before.

It’s nearing eight in the evening and your stomach growls.

“Who said I’m eating with you?”

Gojo rolls his eyes and pokes your shoulder. With a sulky tone, he groans, “Don’t be mean. You’re hungry, I’m hungry, let’s eat. Simple!”

“Can you cook?”

He beams, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he looks at you over them, bright eyes sparkling with what you can only guess to be mischief. You realise you really should think before you speak.

—

That’s how you find yourself in his frat house kitchen, cloak discarded, hair up and gloves off. His frat members are out, partying, he claims, so the whole house is free. When he suggested it, you looked at him like he was insane, but he only wiggled his brows.

“You scared?” He cocked his head, grinning at you in a way that made you want to punch his teeth in.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you responded, “No, of course not.”

Gojo bent his arms and rocked his head, making clucking noises that echoed in the empty street. Every note pierced your body, mocking and goading. You knew exactly what he was doing, and it was fucking working, the stupid bastard. Without responding to his accusation, you stomped over to his car and gave him a glare. He fetched his car keys and spun them on his finger with a victorious whistle.

“Grate this,” he orders.

His kitchen is huge, which is understandable for the size of the house and how many people live here. Apparently, there’s three more kitchens in the damn place, not that you believe even a quarter of the guys that live here know what a cutting board is. The kitchen is surprisingly clean, however. It’s sparkling clean.

“We have cleaners that comes in every other day,” he chuckles, noticing your looks of complete judgement whilst he boils some pasta. “But we are pretty strict on cleanliness, regardless. And everyone knows, I’m not afraid to crack the whip to keep everyone in line.”

Scoffing, you clarify, “You? Cracking whips? I find that hard to believe.”

He leans against the island you’re stationed at, the sound of water simmering filling the small space between you. Watching you grate the cheese, he hums, fingers fiddling with the lace of your sleeve. He mutters, “I know how to be serious when I need to be.”

You hum too.

Still fiddling with the fabric, you ignore his wandering hand, fingers slipping under to roll the soft lace between his fingertips. Goosebumps rise on your skin. His touch is tentative, hesitant and gentle — one would think he’s just afraid to snag the fabric, acknowledging the craftsmanship, but one glance up at him, seeing his gaze fixated on your exposed skin more than your sleeve, you know otherwise.

“Hands to yourself, Geralt.”

“If I’m Geralt, that must make you Yennefer,” he retorts. With a laugh, he pulls away, returning to the stove to tend to the pasta sauce. You don’t realise how much warmth he generated until you feel a sudden draught.

The smell of frying onions and garlic is delicious and you’re becoming more and more starved by the second. He’s agile, moving swiftly and on muscle memory as he opens drawers and cabinets to gather the things he needs.

“How often do you cook?” You ask, arm getting tired from the motion of grating the block of cheese.

Gojo shrugs and admits, “Not as often as I’d like. Weekends are for parties and pizza and all the other days, everyone’s doing their thing, studying or whatever, and eating by myself is kinda sad, so I just eat out usually.”

“How is it possible that you eat out so often but still remain so skinny?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because the next thing you know you’re being spun around and pressed into the island with a hard body. His arms are caging you in, keeping you still as he grins at you.

He had thrown his jacket by the door when you both walked in; his biceps bulge as he flexes. They’re so much bigger now, or maybe they were always like that. And he’s pressed so close his Adam’s apple is right in front of you, bobbing when you tilt your head back so you can meet his eyes.

“I’m plenty jacked, actually,” he brags and to add salt to the wound, he leans down, cheek brushing against yours to whisper against your ear, “wifey.”

You shove him off, snorting at his lame line. He back away with little protest. Trying to hide the heat in your face, you wash your hands, turning away from him completely.

The rest of the hour passes by in a blink of an eye, and you finally sit down at the dining table across from each other. He’s a decent cook and you pay him a compliment even though it physically hurt to do so.

“Do you not cook very often?”

“I make sandwiches and ramen, that’s as far as I know how to do,” you admit with no shame.

He pours you a cup of water and asks, “Do you not have a chef to pre-make meals for you? My father insisted I have one, but I complained to my gramps about the lack of privacy and independence, and he gave up pretty quickly.”

You pause. It’s a stupid question to ask someone, from anyone else it’d drip in condescension, but you know he’s genuinely asking and it’s a valid question, just not one you’re ready to answer. So, with a careful shrug, you say simply, “I’m fine with the way things are.”

Gojo doesn’t sense the tense quiver of your voice, or if he does, he has enough tact to ignore it, so he continues the conversation. He talks to you about what being a frat president entails, and you tell him your experiences as the Treasurer.

He also shares stories of his friends: the time ‘the gang’ snuck into the gym to put shaving cream in Toji’s locker after he had his room bubbled wrapped down to every single pair of boxers, each and every one of his friends’ drunk habits, and how he’s actually a lightweight so he sticks to beers most of the time but he hates the taste and actually much prefer cocktails.

“Wait, wait,” you say between laughs, “you drink cosmos in secret ‘cause you don’t want your frat mates knowing their president actually hates beer?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But it isn’t my fault those things taste like wheat piss!”

You laugh harder. “They do! They totally do!”

“Has anyone ever said you have a pretty la—“

“Woah!” A voice yells out. “What’s going on here?”

You both turn to look at the wide-open door. Two men walk in, they’re in gym clothes, wide toothy grins on their faces as they stare between you and their president. You recognise them as second years, often hanging around Gojo in pictures or loitering in the Quad.

One guy, a fake blond, wolf whistles when he sees you. “Satoru, you didn’t tell us you were having a girl over. It’s been a while; we rarely even see your bestie nowadays.”

“Yeah, this is a sight for sore eyes. This place was getting too much hotdog and not enough buns, if you know what I mean.”

When they both guffaw, you grimace. Their voices are grating, like sharp notes, and despite yourself, you cower in your seat. You hate the way they’re looking at you, in half desire and half repulsion — they’re enjoying the sight of a woman in their space, but they don’t know what to make of your attire. Usually, you don’t let people like them get to you, not their comments and not their stares. But something’s different, you’re more sensitive, less guarded.

“Isn’t she your fiancé? We’ve heard all about her. The girls from Delta Sigma said she dresses like a witch, and well, they aren’t entirely wrong.”

“Get out.”

Three heads turn. Gojo’s standing; you hadn’t seen him move. He’s leaning on his fingertips, head hanging as he stares at his empty plate. No one says a thing. There’s no air in here anymore. Only silence, a grim, gut-wrenching silence.

They stammer. “H-hey, man. What’s wrong?”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, we’re just messing around,” the fake blonde chuckles nervously.

Gojo looks up, slowly, like a creaking door. When his eyes settle on them, they stagger back with the force of his disappointment, and again with his wrath. Though you feel the tendrils of that infinite space between you, you don’t bear its impossible weight.

With his body tense, veins bulging along his arms, broad shoulders pushed back ready for something you can’t quite grasp in this moment, you realise he really is jacked. And those muscles aren’t just for show or pressing girls against marble countertops.

As great as it would be to be his friend, it’s even greater to not be his enemy. You didn’t realise it then, but you do now, if Gojo had ever really wanted to make someone disappear, he probably could have done so.

“You would do well to remember that I, as descendent of the founder of Alpha Phi Delta, have a right to terminate any fraternity brother’s membership without a need for sufficient cause. Just because I’ve never exploited that clause doesn’t mean I’m above it. So, get out. Now.”

Cheeks red and heads hung low, they walk back out without sparing you another glance.

Gojo sits back down, shoulders still tense.

The silence hasn’t disappeared, but it has lightened, much more tolerable now. With an uncertainty in your movements, you push your knife and fork together and pat your lips dry.

“Well, this has certainly been an eventful night,” you say. “I really ought to go, though.”

Gojo nods and takes your plate, leaving to go to the kitchen whilst you freshen up in the bathroom.

When you come out, he’s already waiting outside with his hands tucked in his pockets, staring up at puffs of clouds he breathes into the night sky. There’s a sombre air around him, like you’re better off not disturbing him, but when he spots you from the corner of his eye, that air evaporates and he beams, literally brightens, practically shadowing the moon.

“Hey, come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm,” he asserts with a smile.

And he does. You get into his car for the second time of the night and watch the campus blur past you. Through the ten-minute car ride, he sings along to the pop songs on the radio, bopping his head to every beat like they’re coursing through his veins.

“You don’t know these songs? Really?”

He’s completely incredulous, looking at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You roll your eyes and jokingly explain you’re committed to the aesthetic. He finds that funny. The rest of the ride continues wordlessly.

“Alright, this is me,” you announce when he parks. He climbs out the car with you, leaning against his door as you shuffle awkwardly on your feet. “Despite certain parts of the time being…stiff, should we say, I had a lot of fun. Surprisingly.”

A tinge of red colours the tips of his ears. “Yeah, me too. I expected to lose my life, or at least a few limbs, at that graveyard, so I’m pretty happy with the turnout.”

You roll your eyes. “And I’m very happy I’m not covered in pig’s blood coming out of your frat house.”

“No, closest we had to that was the pasta sauce,” he chuckles.

“Which was surprisingly delicious, by the way. You should cook more often instead of the junk food you eat.”

“Says you?” He pushes your shoulder lightly. “Miss Cup Noodles.”

“Whatever.”

The conversation dies there, laughter fading as both of you eye the doors of your dorm building. You pull your cloak tighter around you, irritated that, even though he’s just in jeans and a plain graphic tee, he’s seemingly unbothered by the temperature drop.

“You should go in,” Gojo suggests, voice softer, barely louder than a whisper.

You nod and make a step to go, but then a warm hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back. He’s carrying the weight of it in his palm, thumb grazing your wrist. There’s electricity thrumming where he touches and you’re about to snatch your hand away before he tightens his grip.

“Just a second,” he mutters, before pulling out something from his pockets. Something black.

Your gloves.

You forgot to put them on, having left them in the kitchen.

He’s taking his time, smoothing the material over your knuckles, ensuring your fingers are tucked in properly. His thumb lingers on the curve of each finger, exploring the slopes. Your breath hitches as his hands envelope yours completely, his touch deliberate and light and there’s no other way to describe it: it’s positively reverent.

The glove slide snugly into place, a second skin but they feel new, as if fresh from the machine, still warm.

You shouldn’t let him reach for your other hand, shouldn’t just watch as he unfolds the other glove, slipping it on with much more care than you yourself had ever done. His eyes are watching the fabric consume more and more of your skin, until they meet the ends of your sleeve, and no skin remains.

“Gojo,” you breathe out.

He shakes his head, brows furrowing. “Satoru. Call me Satoru.”

When he finally looks up, your eyes meet and your pulse quickens, quick and short breaths pulling your chest up and down. You didn’t even realise one hand is clutching his shoulder whilst the other remains in his grip. And you certainly don’t notice that you’re standing much closer than before, only a hair’s breadth from finding out whether his lips are as soft and plush as his touch.

“You smell really nice,” he whispers, thumb running across your knuckles, like he’s willing warmth into your hand.

You’re so close it only takes one gust of wind to push you together, to taste what a future with him could mean, to seal the first date with something that’ll keep you up at night. Just one kiss, one bad decision and everything could fade away for a second. You could pretend he’s just a boy and you’re just a girl and this is a normal date, that you have a normal relationship and tomorrow you could go back to being arranged lovers.

His lashes flutter, so long and wispy and you’re jealous. Flickering between your eyes and your lips, you know he’s searching for any sign that you might want this just as bad as he does. You’re craning your head back, back arched to reach him, and when your chest rubs against his for a millisecond, he shuts his eyes with a groan.

“Hey! If it isn’t Gojo,” a gruff voice bellows.

You step back, gasping for air and desperately smoothing your skirt down as you give a shaky smile to the newcomer. He’s a tall, buff man wearing shorts and carrying a basketball. He pats Gojo on the back, oblivious to the tension, to the way his friend is pouting, grumbling about how he ‘ruined the moment.’

The man looks at you with a friendly enough smile, eyeing your appearance with nothing more than curiosity before he gives you one of those manly nods.

“Whatcha doing at my girl’s dorm?” He asks.

Clearing his throat, Gojo answers, “Just dropping my wi—I mean, my friend off. Yeah, just stopping by.”

The guy doesn’t look ready to stop talking. So you take the initiative to excuse yourself with an awkward kiss on the white-haired boy’s cheek and you whisper, “Goodnight...Satoru.”

You don’t wait for him to reply.

Just as you’re about to enter your dorm building, you hear a distinct, “Dude, I totally cockblocked you, didn’t I? Fuck, put that thing away. You’re gonna poke my fucking eyes out!”

You smile just as your phone pings.

#jjk fluff #Gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk crack #jjk x you #gojo satoru #modern au

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madamechrissy · 1 month ago

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♔ Silent Serenades ♔

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Explicit sexual content, pregnancy sex, lots of teasing and nipple play, super smutty and emotional, Oral ( m and f recieving) mentions of jealousy and past angst- a lot of closure I hope you enjoy

♔ Word count: this chap: 9k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you at all, leaving you a crying mess on your wedding night, alone. Now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage that destroys you from within. Royal AU, Cruel Duke Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful in this. You'll hate Satoru, warning you now. HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

A/N- dual povs <3 Comments and Reblogs verry appreciated if you enjoy

♔ Part Fourteen ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Fifteen- Take me back to the night we met

Satoru is going to be… a father.

You’re showing just a bit, a little roundness to your tummy and breasts, but mostly he can tell by your glow. They way your eyes glimmer brighter, the way your skin illuminates just so, as if it’s shimmering, he’s never seen anything like it, like your beauty with his child growing in you. How could you get more beautiful? It seemed unreal, just your little smile destroys him in an instant.

You’re snuggling up to his arm as you both near the inn on your journey up to Scotland, you’d been beaming about it all morning, Satoru just hopes he can make everything perfect, while still being somewhat terrified of what being a father will mean. Of fucking it all up royally, of not being good enough, and also he’s terrified of what the pregnancy means for you.

He’s heard horror stories of women in labor, of them dying after having children or even during, and that’s one thing Satoru cannot have, anything happening to you, ever. The thought of living one day without you is a torturous one that he just doesn’t think he could ever handle, you are his everything, you are his sun and his moon, his air in his lungs.

Now there will be a baby, and you’re already so damn thrilled, your little hand rests on your tummy already, having had it confirmed by the physician, you’d been a little sick at first but now you’re just sleepy very often. But your heart is so full, as you look up at your husband, who smiles softly at you, caressing your face while the carriage rocks back and forth.

“What are you thinking of, devious little Duchess?” He teases, you giggle then, chin tilting up as you look into the swirling blue storms of his eyes.

“Thinking how excited I am, for everything. I’ve never even seen Scotland, and I’m going to marry you again-”

“It’s going to be our first marriage, I refuse to acknowledge that night.” His words are a little hoarse, breaking your heart.

Satoru is harder on the past than you are to him, surely, you don’t think anyone could punish themselves more than he does. “Of course, you are right, this is our choice, hmm?”

“Our choice. My choice. Always you.” He kisses you, passionate presses of his lips, until you’re both heated, because when isn’t it that way?

No amount of domestic bliss truly helps the intense and insane need that the both of you constantly have for each other. The way he touches you, grabs you, possessive and hungry, the way your lips both move, desperate and messy, tongues sliding, teeth nipping. His hand entangles in your hair, yours clutches the stark fabric of his jacket.

Satoru’s kissing down your neck, yanking out a breast almost from your bodice, hot hungry kisses down your chest that make your back arch for more. “You’re more beautiful, you kill me.” He murmurs, as he nips a sensitive nipple with sharp teeth, earning a whine.

“I’m always wet lately, it’s so bloody inconvenient.” You grumble, he grins so deviously now, one of his big hands squishing a breast as he peeks at you with his swirling blue eyes.

“I love it, how’s it inconvenient, bratty girl?”

“It’s all the time, Satoru, is this some odd symptom!? Ah!” Satoru’s sucking your nipple in his mouth, hot and wet, your eyes roll back in your skull.

“Mmm…” He pulls back with a pop, saliva dripping from his lips, sapphire eyes locking on yours. “I have no clue of pregnancy, any more than you. Just know that you’re even sexier, god these tits, look at em.” Your eyes dart down, seeing them marked, glittering and glossy.

“They’re getting huge! You would like that, hmm?” Your eyes narrow and he snorts in laughter, kissing you as the heat pools between your thighs.

“Oh yes, can’t wait till they’re even fuller. Dripping milk.”

“You’re so insane sometimes, Duke… all the time, actually.” You whisper, but it’s half hearted, his dilated gaze so hungry only makes you more sensitive and needy.

“You love it, hmm, love me insane for you? Slutty Duchess.”

“Shush, man whore.” He glares now, snowy lashes lowering, cutting your giggle off with a bite that makes you gasp. “Ow!”

“Shut your pretty mouth, you love it.” You shove at him, looking at your now puffy nipple, before he yanks you on his lap, and you’re pressed against him, feeling he’s just as excited for you, when the carriage stops. “Just wait till I get you in the room.”

“Oh?” You smile just a bit, and he smirks, looking like the charming ass of a man he is.

“Oh.” He teases back, kissing you deeply, before pulling back and smiling. “Are you excited?”

“Very.”

The rolling hills of Scotland are breathtaking when you all arrive at Satoru’s estate a few days later, somewhere he hasn’t been in many, many years, not since he left everything for a time to escape here. A time when he had to escape his father, escape Adelia, he had spent much time here, alone.

The memories linger but are so quickly replaced by the beauty of you in everything that you do. Despite the insane beauty of the rolling land, of the hills and cliffs jutting out, the warm sun illuminating everything, Satoru can’t help but watch you, as you’re eyeing everything in wonder, your face lit up.

You are a better sight than anything.

“It’s a far cry from London, hmm?” He teases, and you shake your head, hair loose and flowing softly over your shoulders, as you clutch your little green cape tightly around you.

“It’s a million times better than London ever could be. Oh, I do not think I’ll ever want to go back!?” You grab his hand as you look up at his sprawling estate, so different from the Gojo manor, no it’s breathtaking and bright, not dark and brooding like what you’re used to, brighter and more open.

Satoru chuckles as you run up to the doors, lifting your skirts as you do, smiling behind your shoulder at him. “A chase, hmm?” You nod, giggling, and Satoru runs after you, quickly catching you with his long strides. “Got you.”

“Because you’re so lanky! No fair!” He picks you up, chuckling and spinning you in his arms, kissing you over and over. You’re melting in his embrace, arms wrapped around his neck as he holds you tight.

“Are you ready to see inside? I had them prepare it for us.” You nod eagerly, and Satoru carries you over the threshold in his arms, your feet still dangling, slippers up off the stone floor.

When he puts you down, you are greeted with several servants waiting for his orders, and you take in the surroundings of the castle, the immaculate high ceilings, every aesthetic so different from Gojo Manor. It’s much older, hundreds of years you imagine, things are more simple and slate gray, versus the ornate paintings and coverings of the manor.

“Your Grace.” They all curtsey and bow, one of the men in kilts come up and smiles at you both then.

“Hello there, it’s been a long time.” Satoru says, smiling and patting him on the shoulder, the slender man with glasses smiles.

“Indeed it has, Master Gojo.” You blink a bit at the name.

“He sort of raised me for a few years.” Satoru murmurs, and you smile brightly up at him then.

“Then it’s a pleasure!”

“And a pleasure to meet this lovely wife of Master Gojo’s. He does go on and on in his letters-”

“Ah-ah.” Satoru scowls at him, but you’re giggling behind your gloved hand.

“So sorry, Master Gojo. Well then, shall we show you to your chambers? The ceremony is set for tomorrow.”

“Indeed, it sounds perfect.” Soon you and Satoru are in a giant bedroom with an even bigger bed than you have seen, you’re wide eyed at it.

“Was this meant for your harem?”

“Psh, brat.” You giggle as he helps unlace your bodice, pecking little kisses along the backs of your shoulders. “I was not whoring in Scotland.”

“Good, no need to burn all your beds.” You peek up at him with a little smile, he laughs softly then, cupping your face as your bodice falls to the ground, kissing your lips softly.

“I’d burn the world for you, Duchess.” You gasp as he unlaces your stays, unzipping your skirts until you’re bare, looking at the mirror in front of you, his hand splaying the expanse of your stomach.

“The things you say ruin me, Duke.” He exhales, kissing across the nape of your neck now, your head falls back against his chest, moaning softly.

“I desire to ruin your pretty mind, pretty body every day, don’t you know?” You’re whimpering when his long fingers find you, your little pearl, soaking him as you watch, blushing from the sight, eyes wide and glittering. “Do you enjoy it, watching us?”

“It’s scandalous…” You murmur, he chuckles then, and you turn, undoing his vest, sliding off his dress coat, then his dress shirt carefully, baring his perfectly chiseled body to your gaze. You trace the fine muscles of him, while he looks in the mirror at the curve of your ass, the jut of your hips, making him hard when he grabs it, feeling it firm in his palms.

“God, look at you, pretty at every angle.” You nervously look behind yourself, as he spreads you just so, to where you see everything.

“Oh goodness. I’m not sure I’ve… seen all of this?” He laughs again, moaning when you look back at him, and he frees your hair from the endless pins, they clatter along the floor.

“I get to look at this every day, see how lucky I am?” He asks, and you smile sweetly, undoing the buttons of his breeches.

“I am the lucky one, looking at your body.” You start trailing kisses down his chest, pale and perfectly sculpted, tongue darting across a flat pink nipple, making his breath catch, when you start touching his cock gently.

“Fuck… get on your knees, Princess, hmm?” He orders softly, and you eagerly do, helping him out of his breeches completely, his pretty cock smacking his belly button before settling, jutting thick and long.

“And what does my Duke wish for me to do?” You tease, two little hands pressing into the muscles of his thighs, tongue kitten licking his tip, already leaking precum.

“You’ll make me beg for it?” He demands, and you giggle, nodding as he brushes back your hair, holding it in a ponytail, pulling just so.

“Would it hurt for you to beg?”

“You’re evil.” He groans, and you lick him again, but make no move to suck him, fingers darting across the soft white hair on the base of his cock.

“I can just kiss it?” You do just that, delighting in the tensing of his muscles, while blue eyes narrow.

“Bratty girl. Open your mouth.” You do just that. ��Suck me down that tight little throat, please?”

You eagerly do as he asks then, sucking his cock down your throat eagerly, moaning and making him lose his tentative control, as he looks at the looking glass, seeing his beautiful wife on her knees, servicing him. He surely does not deserve any of this, he thinks, wondering just how he has you, when you suck him deeper and deeper with each stroke.

His hands pull at your hair when he begins to stroke his hips. “Want me to fuck your slutty throat, Princess?” His words end you, making you so soaked you’re aching to touch yourself.

You just nod a bit, and he begins to cup your face, fucking into your throat, groaning as you take him so well, as he feels you gagging and choking on his cock, staring at your pretty teary eyes. Drool, tears all pooling down and mixing with the salty sweet taste of him in your mouth, pussy throbbing around nothing, but your hands stay on his thighs.

“You’re such a good girl, you know only I can touch you?” You nod again, and Duke Gojo chuckles, sucking in a breath as he pulls you off him gently. “What if I let you, hmm?”

You pull off, cheeks hollowing, licking your lips. “What? You never let me, you psychotic Duke.”

“Maybe I want you to.” He helps you up gently, kissing his taste off your lips, turning you until you’re on the bed.

“You really want to see me touch myself?” You’re blushing now, and he smiles as he watches the pretty color spread.

“You blush everywhere.”

“Hush! You’ve never…”

“I’ve spit in your mouth, and now you’re shy?” You cover your face, nodding, and he spreads your thighs, planting a little kiss on your clit, watching you jerk as his laugh tickles it. “You have tried to when you’ve sucked me.”

“Um… yes well…”

“It does not bother me if you… with…” He cups your face now gently, and your eyes meet his. “Whatever you did before me and you? It doesn’t bother me. I promise you, I know it’s only us.”

You blink rapidly, taking a nervous breath. “How’d you know?”

“You didn’t just figure out touching yourself on your own, sheltered as you were I imagine.” You nod then, nervously, biting your plump lower lip. “If I didn’t do things that I did with other women? Well we’d do nothing.”

“Whore.” He snorts.

“You’re a little slut.”

“Mmm…” You kiss him then, desperately, as he hovers over you.

“Show me, then. My permission.”

You take another breath, as he eases back on the bed, kneeling between your thighs, spreading them just so, you take a finger and place it between his lips, he moans as he sucks it into his mouth. After pulling it back with saliva dripping, you find your clit between your lips, pressing up and gasping, Satoru’s eyes dilate then, the pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

He watches hungrily as you run little circles over your clit, whining out, hips shifting, him watching you making it even more erotic, even naughtier to you. You’re growing slick under your ministrations, as you press on your clit that’s stiffening and twitching under your touch, wetness pooling to your little hole.

“Is that what you do? Have you cum from it?” He kisses your knee, hands itching to take over. You shake your head with a little moan.

“No… j-just feels good.” He exhales now, teeth nipping into the plush of your thigh, thumbs trailing down your skin in little circles.

“Make yourself cum, then, hmm? Keep showing me.” Satoru’s pearly seed is leaking out of his pretty pink tip as he watches you intently, hands gripping tighter as you keep rubbing circles, crying out as you do, fingers slick and glistening with your arousal. He’s stroking his cock now with a hand, moaning softly. “Put them in.”

“Inside?” You whisper, he nods then, and you flush even brighter, looking so pretty his cock aches to be buried in you. “Like this?”

You slip a finger inside yourself, breasts smushing between your arms as they press together, your other hand reaching for his shoulder, pulling him toward you just a bit, so that his hot length presses on your thigh just a bit as his hand moves. His grunts and the sound of the squishing wetness mix in the chamber, as his eyes worship every bit of you.

“Try two, you have tiny little fingers.” He says hoarsely, and you slip both in then, just to the first knuckle, pumping up and down, brows drawing together as you crave the cock he’s stroking right near you. “How’s it feeling, Duchess? Do you feel how tight you are?”

You manage a weak little nod, continuing to pump your fingers as he pumps his cock, his free hand gripping a breast, squishing it just so, thumb brushing across your nipple. You’re so wet your fingers slip, drenching your hole and further down, making a mess for his eyes, your eyes fluttering shut as you picture him so deep, making you more sensitive.

“Not gonna cum from this… need you, Satoru.” Satoru laughs softly, leaning over you now, taking your fingers and sucking them into his mouth, drinking your arousal off them, so sexy your cunt is clenching around nothing.

“Can’t even make yourself cum?” He taunts, tip pressing at your entrance, making you grip his arms tightly, feeling the muscles tensing under your grip.

“Need you.” You repeat again, desperately, and then he presses into you, moaning as he feels you gripping him.

“Your little fingers don’t stretch you out, do they?” You shake your head, feeling the delicious stretch as he sinks deeper, you’re whining now, thighs trembling against his hips, one of his hands slips up your waist as he presses his heavy weight over you, kissing down the side of your jaw. “You’re so tight, fuck…”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage to squeak out, when he sinks in fully, buried to the hilt inside you. “T-told you… too tiny to do… anything- ah!”

“Need mine, do you?” You nod eagerly, as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, rocking his cock inside you so deep, you’re close with just a few strokes, so overworked by your own ministrations, by him watching you.

“Only n-need you.” Duke Gojo is desperate then, frantic as he holds himself up on an elbow, the other arm grabbing one of your thighs, slinging it over his hip to sink himself deeper inside you.

“I only need you, Princess. Fucking perfect for me, just me.” You feel tears prick your eyes at the overwhelming sensations, of him fucking so deep into you, tip dragging just so on that spot in your velvety walls, as they drool down him.

“For you…” He drinks your cries, a hand entwining with yours over your head, slowly rocking his hips deep, you’re cumming all over his cock then, fluttering and gripping him so hard he can hardly stand it.

“I’ll stretch you out next time, this is too much… fuck…” You giggle, breathless, earning his glare.

“Too much for you, Duke? Gonna cum in me?” He slams into you then, shutting you up with one thrust against your cervix.

“Evil duchess. Yes.” You can’t giggle again, not when he’s lifting your hips like you’re his little doll, fucking into you harder and harder, until he’s cumming so deep, and you’re shattering with him, lips drinking in the cries that are echoing in the room, his cock pumping more and more cum until you’re too full.

“Oh my god…” You whisper, so breathless, Satoru has drips of sweat falling down onto you as he kisses you over and over, slowly pumping more and more of the seed spilling out of your hole.

“Do you have to feel so fucking good? Never wanna leave.” He muses, kissing you over and over.

“Mmm, she’ll push him out you know.”

“Yes, evil like you.” He eases out as your muscles contract, earning a glare from him now. “You’re so evil.”

“Says you! Didn’t even touch your bride to be?” He laughs then, kissing you and slipping a finger down your sensitive slit, making you jerk.

“I’ll take good care of you on the wedding night. Have my face buried in you, hmm?”

“On a plaid and everything?”

Satoru eases up now, sitting you up with him, a hand running down your spine, sending shivers across it. “You want me to lay you out on a plaid outside?”

“Outside!?” He smirks now.

“Yes outside, it’s how it’s done, you know, traditional Scottish weddings. You’d take your bride out to some pretty meadow and lay her down.” The images make you heat up all over again, he watches you curiously. “I see, slutty Scottish bride.”

“It does sound intriguing. But I’m more excited to wed you truly.” He pulls you against his chest tightly.

“As am I.”

The ceremony the next day leaves you breathless, as you walk into and see the rows and rows of candles along a trail in the dark evening, stars glittering the sky along with a bright full moon. You’re dressed in a traditional Scottish gown that clings to your figure, the material feeling thick and quite different than you’re used to, but it’s perfect for the slight chill in the air.

The evening breeze that gently caresses your overheated cheeks as you clutch a bouquet of hand picked flowers, flowers your husband picked. It seems insane, if you didn’t live through it you wouldn’t believe such a thing possible, your very rich and pampered husband digging through wildflowers in a grassy field, in his finest suit no less.

He’d given you this boyish, sweet grin as he’d handed them to you this morning, every day you see so much more charm in his blue eyes, glittering and swirling as he’d kissed your forehead this very morning. You fall deeper for him every moment, that he lets go, that he trusts you, that you see who he was and who he always has been, even when he didn’t show it.

Of course you remember it, the nights alone staring at your ceiling, terrified of the man but also yearning for him, torn into pieces and split in two. You remember the cruelty, but you look at it with different eyes. He was hurting deeply and hurt you in turn, and though it was not right, you no longer have resentment, not when he makes you feel so happy every day.

Not when he looks at you that way, when he touches your tummy, big hand splaying the slightly rounded expanse, smiling softly, his snowy lashes lowered as he pictures having a baby. Not when he is trying the best he can, despite being completely terrified at times at being a father, Satoru is trying, and he tries so hard every day, he slowly kisses away each worry.

You can feel it now, like a new beginning, grinning when you see him wearing a kilt of all things, Satoru Gojo in a kilt! You’re smiling so big your cheeks hurt, he’s got this sash over his chest, his white hair slicked back just so, his bare knees something one just never saw. He looks you up and down as you get closer, walking through the trail of candlelight.

You take his very breath away, bright and beaming, glowing with the baby inside you, each step you take bringing you further into his view. Your plaid makes you look like some medieval Princess, but you were his Princess, weren’t you? Clutching the flowers he’d picked so tightly, smiling so sweetly.

Satoru feels it, a new beginning, one where he can start over, his kilt fluttering slightly in the breeze as his eyes lock with yours. You feel a warmth spread through your body, reaching every part of your soul, heart racing and thrumming in your chest as you get closer and closer, and as you approach him, his gaze never leaves yours.

The priest is standing in front of him, holding a large ribbon in his hands, as Gojo’s grin glints in the darkness. Gojo’s hand reaches for yours, his grip firm but gentle, large hand taking your little one in his, bringing it up to his lips then, you feel the press of his lips on your skin as you take a little breath, air puffing just slightly with the chill that’s approaching.

The ribbon is placed over your joined hands, the Priest begins to wrap them, and an overwhelming sense of emotions are taking you over, something so beautiful then as you look at each other with soft smiles. When the Priest has finished wrapping you both together, handfasting it’s called, he smiles at you.

It’s just you two, there are no guests, no grand affair to see what is truly so beautiful, so precious with you both. No one but a couple people really know what happened, and even those that do know, have no sense of your hearts, your souls, that entwine with each other so deeply.

“Satoru Gojo,” you start softly, he exhales, looking intently as your entwined wrists press against each other. “I am so in love with you, with who you are, deep inside here, all smushy.”

“Tch.” He rolls his pretty blue eyes, and you giggle then, before sombering just a bit, stepping even closer, tilting your head to look up at him.

“I love who you are, how you make me feel. I love a new chance at this, a new start for us, so desperately needed.” Your voice drops to an emotional whisper, as Satoru’s eyes begin to glisten with his own tears. “I fell in love with you when I didn’t want to, when I fought it so hard, tooth and nail, but then even, I knew it, as I saw you in every dream.”

He whispers your name softly, his free hand cupping your cheek.

“And now, we will have a family, and I know it’s so quick, I know we still have so much to learn from each other, but I know you’ll be a great father, you’re a kind, smart, funny and sweet human, despite you acting so brooding.”

“Hush.” He’s holding back his own emotions, as your hand rests on his atop your cheek. “Making me cry, hmm? Bratty Duchess.”

“I love that you’re opening more and more to me.” You whisper then, voice hoarse with emotion. “I love you more with every breath I take, so overwhelming to me, and now… I love this so much.” You touch your tummy with your free hand, looking so beautiful with the candles glowing, casting shadows across the little stone path you both stand on.

Satoru says your name, earning your eyes looking up at his, eyes that are so intense it hurts at times to look at, eyes that pull you in, that make you ache, make your heart flutter. You cannot take it for just a moment, the intensity of the swirling blue orbs that once filled with detest for you, that now are so full of love, affection. Lust and want in equal measured.

“You make me feel that I have no need to be ‘perfect’.” You say softly, tears flowing down your cheeks as he gulps, his heart breaking for you. “I can be imperfect, and still be perfect for you.”

“You are perfect for me, in all your imperfections is where your beauty truly shines. Your witty, bratty mouth.” You giggle then, earning him sniffling just a bit, as you both have tears fall in the night. “Your laughter, your pretty genuine smile, not the little practiced one you used to throw around. You light up my heart with it, a heart I once thought shattered.”

“Oh, Satoru…” You’re resting your foreheads together as he bends low at the hip, his sweet breath against your lips.

“I have fallen madly in love with a messy, foul mouthed, emotional brat.”

“Excuse me!?”

“She has such a temper.” He rolls his eyes, smirking then, as you glare up at him. “She’s so pretty angry.”

“I swear you’re insolent!”

“You love it. You love me, whole heartedly, when I did not think or know I deserve love from you.” Teasing is gone now, as you listen with your breath caught in your throat. “You loved me when I was cruel, when I was low, you showed me kindness even in our most wicked battles against each other. You tried to understand me before I let you in.”

All you can do is nod weakly, feeling every bit of his soul with yours, as if the ribbons truly were binding you both.

“I promise you, with all that I am, I will never fail you again.” He clears his throat, as both of your hearts pound in your chest, and you are shaking your head. “Let me say this. I will be everything you need, everything you want, everything you deserve. I will give you the world, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Satoru!” You’re kissing him, you can’t help it, not when the man you love is there, when he’s promising to give you the world. His free hand entangles in your hair, lips working over yours, hungry. “I promise you, I will give you everything I am. I’m yours, Satoru Gojo, my Duke, my husband.”

“And you’ll have all of me, Princess. Every bit, even the parts you don’t want.” You laugh through your tears as you kiss him once more, softer now, before the priest clears his throat, both of you jumping slightly, blushing. You both look into each other’s eyes, as he says something in Gaelic, which both of you are unfamiliar with, watching curiously.

He smiles at you both now. “In English - “With a tie not easy to break, take the time of binding.” His cadence is lilting as you and Satoru listen eagerly. “The wish that your marriage will be strong, that your love will last, in this life and beyond, what the ties symbolize.”

He gently eases the ribbons off you both, smiling at the two of you, a couple so in love one would never have a clue of what you both went through. He sees a tall young Duke so enamored with his pretty Duchess that he can’t look away for a second, and sees a pretty young lady that has stars in her eyes as she looks up at him, your love radiating and intense.

“I will leave you both to this.” The priest leans his head just a bit in the direction of the goblets of honey mead sitting on a little table in a pretty lit Gazebo, which you both pick up as you step under the awning, putting the rims to your smiling lips as you put the rim of yours to his, and you sip.

“We’re married, truly married this time.” You tease, he laughs then, pulling you against him, so very tightly with those strong arms you nearly fall, giggling with flushed cheeks from the drink.

“We are married.” He kisses you again, before he pulls back with the most devious smirk on his pretty lips. “Shall I take you traditionally?”

“Oh goodness, what even is that?” He’s pulling you to him, putting down your goblets then.

“Take you right here.” he’s easing off the enormous plaid that’s over you, laying it down gently on the floor, you’re looking around, earning his soft laugh. “My brave little Princess is scared?”

“What if someone sees!” He walks around you, fingers drifting across your chest now, darting across your skin, leaving networks of goosebumps in their wake, until he’s brushing your hair to one side, making your breath quicken. “Mnh…”

“You like that idea, hmm?” He’s kissing hot, open mouthed, shooting pleasure across your entire body. “Let me show you what I should have done, that night you looked so beautiful.”

“Satoru…” You choke on a cry then, when he unbuttons the dress from your skin, moaning against you, the intensity of his every action growing as more of your pretty skin is revealed for his hungry eyes, all lit up under the soft glow of the little candles all around.

“I should have kissed every bit of your pretty body.” You hear it, the desperation in his voice now, but god if you could see his eyes, glowing so brightly blue as he stares at your back, running his fingers across the delicate red marks from the ties of your dress pressing in. He watches the goosebumps rise across your spine, as your head falls to the side.

“I wish that you did.” You hate it, the longing escaping, while you’re nearly naked aside from your skirts, which he starts to make work of, tilting your chin up to have you look at him.

“You wish I touched you that night?” He asks, confusion clear on his features, you nod then, blinking tears that quickly are whisked off your cheeks.

“I know I would have melted for you.”

Satoru’s hands brush up and down your body ever so slowly, images burning in his brain, of if he did not get in his own way, if he tried, if he gave it a chance. So much it overwhelms him, leading him to one realization then, while you’re arching towards him with your eager body. “But we were not ready, were we?”

“No, not yet.” You agree softly, shaking your head, as you’re left completely bare for him, naked outside which seems like insanity, as he helps you step out of your skirts, leaving your stockings, garters and slippers on only. He walks to the front of you, drinking you in, your beauty, everly line and curve of you, hands gently brushing the sides of your breasts.

“But now we’re ready, and I’ll show you.” He kisses your hand, eyeing the stockings that had driven him mad that night, the same ones with your little bows, gently pulling you to kneel on the plaid with him now, easing off his jacket, baring his skin, your fingers run across it but he captures them. “You’ll let me kiss you everywhere, every inch, hmm?”

“Can I not kiss you?” You smile when he places his jacket under your head, hand slipping down your body, tummy trembling under his touch.

“I want it about you.” He says huskily, teasing touches brushing across your arms, your waist, your hips, as he hovers just over you, and you’re arching up for more of him. “Of what I wanted to do.”

“Show me please.” Your whisper ends him, he’s kissing you deeply, tongue moving in a motion that his body aches to follow, resting on one elbow as he lays over you, a hand gripping your breast, squishing it and making you gasp. “Ngh!”

“I wanted to suck on these pretty nipples, poking out of that chemise, tantalizing me to no end.” You blink rapidly when he sucks one areola into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, fingers squishing into the softness of your breast, making your hands enwrap in his hair.

“Satoru…”

He pulls back with a pop, turning his attention to your other breast while he looks at you with lidded, dilated eyes, tongue licking right around your other nipple. “Sensitive, Princess?”

“Very-ah!” You’re soaked between your thighs from just this, from his teasing of your breasts, kissing them, nipping them, lavishing them, until he’s kissing lower, right above your belly button, exhaling against your skin that tingles under his breath, making your thighs press together, craving friction.

“I wanted to tell you these stockings were killing me, hiding your pretty legs and making me want to…” He unsnaps your garter now, slipping the stockings down your skin, pressing kisses slowly down your thigh, your calf, your ankle. “Kiss them, just like this, watch you write with pleasure.”

You moan as he nips your ankle, his hand slipping down your thigh, backs of his fingers brushing against the slick heat of your pussy, which throbs with need, mixing with the intense feelings swirling your mind. The desire, the look he gives you, the need in his eyes, you flash back to your wedding night, shutting your eyes for just a moment, trying to breathe.

“You’re remembering.” He murmurs, you shake your head, tears forming from your eyes when he slips off your other stocking, now leaned down, cupping your face as he rests up on his elbows over you. “It’s alright to remember.”

“It’s not, I don’t want to think of you that way, Satoru. I only want to know this.” You whisper, your hands slipping down the muscles, the ribs of his torso, as he shakes his head, sad smile on his face.

“It’s okay to remember, just know that was not me, was not what I wanted. I wanted you from the moment you looked at me that way… that little glare, the smack on my face? God how I wanted you.”

“You’re insane, you know.”

“We both are.” He kisses you, a little softer now. “I wanted to please you, make you shout my name, and I didn’t know why, why you did that to me. Why you made me want to please you so badly with my mouth, watering every time you fucking came near me.” Your hips buck up as he touches your slit again, sliding slippery fingers up and down, finding your twitchy clit.

“T-Toru… please…” You’re whimpering as he runs his fingertip in a tantalizingly slow circle, smiling softly, lips glossy from your kisses.

“I’ll get there, impatient Duchess. Let me take my time tonight, bride.” The words are too much, they end you, your body shaking when he slips a finger inside your entrance, already soaked, earning his groan, cock throbbing now with how badly he needs you. “I would have tried to keep control, but…” He slips two in.

“Ah!” You’re clinging to his bare shoulders desperately, your blunt nails pressing against his biceps, pressure building in your tummy as he curls them just so.

“I’d have lost control at how wet you were, I don’t know how gentle I’d have been.” He says, kissing lower, pressing your thighs apart as his fingers work you like the keys on a piano, tapping and pressing and pushing, while he smirks against your tummy, pressing a kiss.

“Y-you’d have lost control? Been rough?” You whisper weakly, he chuckles against you, making you jerk, as he kisses the hood of your clit, pulling his fingers out to suck you off him.

“After I tasted you, I would have lost my mind, even that night yes, god how could I not.” Satoru damn near growls, as he stares at your pretty pussy. “She’s so wet for me, isn’t she?”

You nod quickly, gasping as he laps a bit of your honeyed arousal from between your glistening folds. “When am I not wet for you? It’s most… disconcerting-ah!”

“Is it?” He’s drinking you now, burying his face against your pussy, drinking and sipping all your wetness away, only for you to produce more, so much it’s unreal, coating his face with it, dripping off his chin as he moans. “Fuck…”

All soft pretense is gone as Satoru loses himself tasting you, long fingers pressing against the plush of your thighs as he pulls your hips so that he can devour you properly, bringing you to the edge so quickly you have to cling to his silky hair. He’s rolling his tongue inside your slick, velvety walls, which flutter around the wet muscle while he massages every bit of you so thoroughly.

His nose hits your clit, sending you just over that edge, and Satoru moans, cock leaking precum, looking up to see your face screw up with pleasure, as your climax rocks your body, and you’re gushing all over his face again. He moans, slurping it up, all while little fireflies dance in the field, the manor behind you while you’re naked in the night for him.

“You’d h-have done all… that?” You whisper weakly, he moans then, sliding up you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself off his lips while he grips a thigh.

“I could lick you for hours, but I’m just a little too… hard to not…” Satoru’s just now taking the kilt and pulling it up, you’re flushed then.

“Oh!?”

He grins. “Scots are easy-access people, I quite like it.” He teases your entrance with his tip, kilt still on as you lay atop the plaid, waiting for your husband to fill you. “I’d have gone slow on the first stroke, sure.”

He eases inside your tight hole now, you’re whining out at it, head falling back, as he fills you inch by inch, so many inches, until your cavern is filled with nothing but his length. He moans then, feeling you grip him, cumming again when he’s fully stuffed his cock in you.

“You’d be that easy?” He huffs, you try to glare but it fails, as you’re pulsating all around him, and his own eyes roll back you feel so good. “Fuck…”

You’re pathetic then, whimpering as your thighs shake, Satoru’s body shielding you from the chill of the evening. “T-Toru…”

“God, feel her.” He’s moving then, huffing as he fucks into you, deep strokes that wreck your cervix, as his big hands take your body over, pushing you down onto his cock.

The wind is playing with his silvery hair, tousling it just so as he fucks you, eyes boring into yours, seeing through you. “Toru…”

“I’ve got you, Princess, shh.” He sinks so deep it hurts, but the pain is fucking perfect, when he’s got his face buried against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a bite, mixing pain with pleasure again.

“Mnh!” You’re just whining as he thickens inside you, stars swirling in the sky as the night comes, fuzzier and fuzzier while he works over you.

You’re crying out now, begging, sobbing, your nails digging into his back as he thrust at a maddening rhythm, kissing you again, drinking your cries, your nails leaving scratches as his thumbs leave bruises. “I fucking love you.” He whispers, and you cry out as it’s met with him rolling his hips inside you.

“L-love you!” You’re panting now, cupping his face as he stares right into your eyes, as everything starts to fall into its perfect place. “This… is our- mnh!”

“Wedding night.” He finishes the sentence, brushing your tears when he sinks in fully, your cunt struggling to take him, stretching as he presses your thighs up. “And on our wedding night I’ll fill you so good, hmm?”

“Please.” Your little beg ends him, he’s fucking erraticaly, strokes hitting deep as his tip drags on your walls, your legs wrap his hips, heels of your feet resting against his thighs as he begins to fall off the edge with you. “Cum inside.”

“Needy, Princess?” You just nod, you are.

“Please.” Your eyes lock, and he pumps into you then, resting his head on yours, entwining a hand with yours, the same hands that had been tied with that ribbon, pouring inside you, so much you’re sent again with him, cumming from being filled with his hot white seed. “Mnh!”

“F-fuck… oh my… fucking perfect…” The word, it just feels fine, after all this time, Satoru cumming inside you, with you, it is perfect.

You’re crying when he pulls up, looking down and gulping, trying to catch his own breath, his heart pounding against the breasts squished under his chest. “It’s good tears, swear.”

“Oh, I know. I know you, every bit of you.” Satoru says, kissing your tears away, as he swallows down his own. “I’ll never get enough of you, of this.”

“Nor will I, Satoru.” He’s kissing you, falling into you again, until you realize you both fell asleep out on the gazebo, you wake up and sleepily blink, seeing him smiling, watching you sleep.

“Your snores, so cute.”

“Shut it.” You’re laughing as you kiss him again, snug under the plaid, blissful with your husband, your Duke, once so cruel, now brightly smiling, brushing your hair back so sweetly. “Good morning, husband.” You whisper.

“Good morning, Wife. Gods, I never want to leave?”

“Me either. We could just stay?” You grin at him then, and you both sigh. “Too many blasted duties.”

“Indeed, but, we will make this our yearly trip.” You giggle in excitement, snuggling even closer to him.

“I love this idea, oh and we’ll have a little one!” He smiles softly, touching your stomach.

“I’ll have to fight for attention, I suppose.” You shove at him playfully, to land on top of him, as he exhales, hands running over your body under the plaid. “God I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you.”

“Dirty mouthed brat.”

“Excuse me!?” He’s kissing your lips, over and over, hands now gripping your ass, making your sore pussy throb again for him.

Six Months Later

You’re at the King’s ball, but this year you are no longer the diamond, no you’re the Duchess, and likely about to pop soon, a round tummy and even rounder breasts, that enamor Satoru to no end. When he’s helping you dress, he’s running his hands over the curves of your body, curves you’re not accustomed to, but he makes you feel beautiful.

Every new line from the baby earns several kisses from Satoru as he worships your body, every time he feels the baby kick he gets more excited. But, tonight you both have your duties, and one of them is attending Sukuna’s ball, helping name the next diamond of the season.

“I hate the King.”

“Treason!”

“Shh.” Satoru’s pouting as he walks into the ballroom, seeing Sukuna grinning from up above, big red throne while he’s watching the crowds below.

“I’m also no fan.” You admit, but luckily no Adelia. From what you’ve heard, she’s been sent back to France.

Even Sukuna couldn’t stand her.

Satoru’s eyes fixate then, on Nanami Kento, he tenses, despite not ever being angry at you, he can’t help but have a murderous instinct as he looks at the man that had you once. Well, he never really had you, but he did so many things. Satoru has been glad he’s not of social standing, surprised to see him here of all places.

You look at him in shock, as he has a pretty lady on his arm, and he whispers something to her, before calling you over. You look at Satoru with wide eyes, he nods just a bit, walking you over, you smile brightly as the lady is introduced, she is lovely and sweet, making eyes at Nanami.

“I’ve heard of you, your Grace.” You flush then, eyes lowering. “Only good things, I promise!”

“Then Mr. Nanami is too kind.” You murmur softly, Satoru sighs then, addressing the Lady.

“Care for a dance, my lady?” He asks, and she nods, smiling at Nanami now.

“Go right ahead, darling.” He murmurs, kissing her forehead so sweetly, it melts you then, as you feel it.

Nanami is in love.

As Satoru gives you time to speak, he gives you a little smile, eyeing your tummy now. “You’re with child?”

“No, too many cookies. Habit from you.” You tease, he rolls his hazel eyes then, shaking his head.

“Oh, cookies caused it?”

“Mmhmm!” You fall into an easy laughter, fiddling with your hands then, watching Satoru twirl her around the court. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is, isn’t she? And… she’s amazing.” He’s coughing a bit then, voice hoarse with emotion. “Should this be… harder to say to each other?”

“No, it’s not for me.” You smile sadly at him then, memories not of the intimacy, but special moments you both had, how sweet he’d been, it makes your heart swell. “To see you happy? Well…”

“Please, do not cry, Duchess.” He murmurs then, brushing a tear from your cheek in a sweet gesture, you blink back tears, touching your tummy.

“The baby she makes me so weepy.”

“You always cried a lot.”

“Excuse me!?”

You both laugh again, and he sighs, stance relaxing. “I wondered how you were, I’m so in love yes… yet I think of you at times, like a good friend long gone?”

You smile tremulously, feeling the exact same. You adore Satoru, you love him madly, but Nanami became important to you. “We were good friends. We were… foolish friends?”

He nods just a bit, flush on his high cheekbones. “Indeed. I am glad to see you so well and… glowing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nanami. I wondered about you too.” You take his hand, smiling up at him, and he feels that little bit left of his feelings finally close up, knowing you’re okay, because Nanami always wondered if you would truly be okay.

Nanami loved you but now Nanami is in love.

“I know what you meant, that day. When you said you’re in love with him.” You take a breath, squeezing his hand and smiling, looking at Satoru as he steps around the floor so gracefully. “It’s different from what we had.”

“It is different. I felt so terrible for so long-”

“Please, do not. I think… I should have trusted you knew what you were speaking of. I fear I did not give you enough credit?” He blinks his own emotions, recalling the things he said, but you’re shaking your head.

You treasure his words, as your eyes lock with Satoru’s for a moment. “No, it’s all in the past now. I only hope the best for you both, truly. With all my heart.”

“And I you. I know you’re excited.” He grins warmly, watching as you look at your tummy, smiling sweetly.

“I couldn’t be more excited.”

“He is good to you?”

“He is. No more punches required.” He smiles again, your hand falling, exhaling with relief in knowing Nanami was okay, in fact he was thriving. “I have something I’d like to do for you.”

“You need not do anything.” He says, but you lean close.

“For your lovely lady. What if I… suggested something to the King?”

“Like?”

“Like… she’s shimmering, hmm?” Nanami blinks then, smiling as he looks at the love of his life, in a man’s arms he should hate, but he doesn’t. Maybe he never did, but he feels it, Duke Gojo is different. Better.

“She’d die if she got told that.” He admits softly.

“Then let me work my charm, even this round I can bat my eyelashes.” Nanami chuckles, shaking his head, running a hand through sandy locks.

“That charm could never fade, Duchess. Or… your Grace?”

“No, Duchess is fine. Alright Mr. Nanami, I’ve got this.” You wink and Satoru curiously watches you step up, until you’re right next to the King, who eyes you amusedly up and down. “Your Majesty.”

“Sukuna.” You smile just a bit as he stands, taking your hand and pressing a kiss on the back of it.

“Sukuna, how have you been?”

“Not as busy as you and Gojo apparently.” He muses, looking at your tummy, you laugh a little.

“Think it probably happened at your castle.”

“Scandalous, Duchess.” You roll your eyes, stepping closer. “You’re even sexier now, you know.”

“You’re even worse, you know.”

“You enjoy me, don’t worry I won’t tell your Duke.” You shake your head at him, as he tilts his head, ruby eyes glinting. “Out with it, what is it you want?”

“I’m so obvious?” He nods, smirking. “Well… this lovely lady… dancing with Satoru, I think she’s sparkling.”

“Fuck, the diamond bullshit. Yes, fine then, I did not want to do it.”

“Yay! Oh thank you.”

“Need a kiss on the cheek for it though.” You glare, jaw setting, as he taps a rugged cheek. “C’mon, one.”

“You’re insufferable, Sukuna.” You peck a kiss on his cheek, dodging when he turns, wiggling your brows. “Cheek only.”

“God he’s a lucky bastard. You’re so-”

“Shush it, now.”

“Oh fine. I’ll announce it, go on now, breaking my heart.”

“Oh whatever.” You curtsy at his fake pouting, light hearted when you’re back in your husband’s arms.

“I had to watch you with the two men who wanted you so badly, ugh. Why did Sukuna bother me more?” He grumbles, you giggle then.

“Aw, does everyone want your wife?”

“They do, it’s my ultimate payback.” He tilts your chin up then. “Just what were you up to?”

“Doing something sweet for Mr. Nanami’s lady. Thank you for giving us time, you did not have to.” You whisper, as he brushes a kiss over your cheek, a hand coming to rest where your baby decides to kick.

“I trust you, and I know you need to. But Sukuna, no.” You’re giggling as he pulls you closer, looking down into your slightly rounding face, your brilliant glittering eyes under chandeliers. “You’re prettier while pregnant, he’s going to try again.”

“He’ll not try a thing, you jealous man.”

“I am, very.” He leans close, lips against your ear. “Don’t think I won’t fuck your pretty mind out just because you’re so far along.”

“Satoru!” You’re heating up, as his palm presses against your back, tracing little circles along it. “Shh, look!”

Soon the king is begrudgingly announcing the diamond, and you get to watch her so excited, and Nanami grinning at her. Satoru watches you, however, face a little tight, wincing in pain. “What is wrong?”

“She’s just kicking me to death.”

“You always say she.”

“I can just tell.”

“A witch, hmm?”

“Mmhmm. I… oh…” Suddenly your eyes widen, and you feel it, panicking. “Oh dear…”

“Oh dear what!?” He demands, then looks down. “You’re having the baby, aren’t you!?”

“Bloody inconvenient timing, little one.” You whisper, and both of your eyes lock. “I’ll keep it in till we-”

“You can’t keep it in, stubborn brat!? Shit… he does have the best doctors…”

You were going to have a baby.

Satoru’s baby.

At the King’s ball.

“Well… Shit…” Satoru grumbles, before making the announcement, far too loudly, and soon every eye of the ton was on the former diamond.

You.

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OMG one more chap!! I rly hope you enjoyed.

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cindol · 15 days ago

Text

o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅ but daddy, i love him !

jjk x black fem reader

charas — gojo satoru, geto sugru, sukuna ryomen, yuki tsukumo, toji fushiguro,

𓈒 ♡̶ 𓂃 — when jjk men aren’t approved by your father.

𖧧 𓂃 ִֶָ — highschool au in all scenarios, fluff, crack, teenage pregnancy, drugging mentioned.,

geto suguru

a lot of people would think geto’s the best example of a guy who’s good for someone’s daughter. Perfect grades, star pupil of his class, the whole shabang but that was quite the opposite for your father when he officially met the man who won his babygirl’s heart at this dinner.

your mother was just all smiles, placing dessert peach cobbler on his plate but your father had a straight face with furrowed bushy black brows. Really geto tried everything in the book to impress your but he never smiled at any joke he made or accomplishment he mentioned.

once he came outside with your dad it was confirmed your father just didn’t like him.

“truth is boy, i just don’t like you, don’t want you or your loud mouthed ass friends around her or you around her.” saying that all while smoking a cigarette.

mentally, geto could sigh. Of course the one equation to this was gojo, always was. Geto put on a front, making a tight nit smile. “well, i guess i understand that sir.” he wasn’t looking to get into a argument with his girlfriend’s father. geto still never quit, because why would he over some salty dick trying to keep him from his pretty girlfriend?

at the dead of night you heard small dropping noises at your window. You were on your way to sleep after finishing homework at such a late time but that garnered your attention. You got up from your desk and walked to your window, when you looked down geto was there in all his glory, on a tall ladder in his infamous white t-shirt, baggy pants with his hair out of a bun.

you gasped at the sight of him. “g-geto?! what the hell are you doing here so late? it’s like, midnight!” talking in a hushed yelling whispering tone to not alert your parents.

geto just had that calm smile on his lips with relaxed hooded eyes. “well your father unfortunately has a large stick up his ass and commanded me not to see my girlfriend, so i’m here to kidnap you away.” he said, half joking.

you covered your mouth, but a small giggle came out at his words. “my dad will seriously have your ass if he knew you were here.”

“that’s why i’m taking you and then returning you righttt back. You wanna come with me don’t you?”

for a moment you looked around, mostly at your door since your parents room was right across from yours then back to geto to sigh. You couldn’t say no to him, never could since you met him.

you exhaled out a small breath. “i can’t say no to you. Just, let me get dolled up a little at least.”

he scoffed gripping your wrists making you squeak out a little grunt. “don’t need you to be all dolled up, just come with me in those cookie pajamas and afro puffs.”

once again you grouch, but decided to climb down the latter in your white shirt, black bonnet and black cookie patterned pajama pants.

gojo satoru

your father didn’t like cocky assholes. If it wasn’t for gojo’s witty humor and cockiness he would actually accept him as your boyfriend since he saw gojo as a good money bag.

now for gojo he didn’t care if your father seethed him and grounded you not to see him. In gojo’s eyes he loved his girlfriend and a bitter old guy wouldn’t stop him from loving you.

when you saw a man in all black climbing through your window your immediate instinct was to run over to the window and scream while hitting the body that was halfway through it with your pillow.

you stopped once you heard that familiar “ouch ouch!” then stood with a pillow in one hand with your other hand on your hip. “gojo? what are you even doing here so late!”

he huffed, dusting himself off and ruffling his hair.”well now that my girlfriend isn’t beating me with a pillow i came to take you out for a romantic little date.”

a smile formed on the corner of your lips, turning into a grin on your two tones brown lips, mostly at the romantic date aspect. “this late at night? How romantic of you, satoru.” you teased him, but it was cute for someone like gojo.

“what? old man don’t want you sneaking around goodie two shoes?” he bantered back at you.

“well he’s not even really inside, late shift at work till 2PM, so him finding out is out the window.”

gojo’s eyes were wide with shock. “so did i just like…. borrow geto’s latter for no reason?”

you giggled, nodding.

“well shit… let’s go out the front then. Makes my job as a boyfriend easier now!”

toji fushiguro

toji wasn’t the ideal boyfriend for a normal girlfriend, he knew that and your dad did. Your father tried with him, as much as he could try as a normal middle class dad until toji decided he didn’t wanna practice safe sex and impregnated his daughter. It made matters more complicated when you wanted to keep the baby too.

your father banished you from ever seeing toji but he didn’t know that a simple command didn’t sedate a pregnant sad girl, you went lengths to see your boyfriend, going far enough to drug the poor man your dad hired to watch you while he was out on a late shift.

toji was taken aback when he saw opened his front door to his pregnant girlfriend he hadn’t seen in six weeks, in pajamas and a purple bonnet. By the sulking look on her face he could tell you had been crying in your free lonesome time.

“shit… y/n? ya dad actually allowed you to see me?”

you shook your head. “he’s out on a shift so, i had to sedate the poor security guard’s he hired. Had to see you”

it wasn’t appropriate right now but toji smirked at that.”taught ya well huh? My girlfriend drugged her first man.” he joked. That got a dry laugh from you, despite your saddened expression.

there was a long silence till you spoke again. “i just…. need to see you, can’t take this loneliness in that damn house with that asshole i call my blood father. I don’t care if your mom is here either i just—”

he interrupted with you by bringing you into his arm. “you know she’s always fucking off somewhere at a bar again, now come and get inside, can’t have my pregnant girlfriend depressed alone.”

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tsukimefuku · 10 months ago

Text

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem.

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento.

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

"This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself?

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death.

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through.

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways.

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words.

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely.

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?"

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure.

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be.

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!"

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression.

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up.

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was.

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly.

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.”

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart.

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots.

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami.

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words, “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss.

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice.

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution.

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost.

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss.

You could kiss him like this forever.

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you.

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be —, Nanami spoke again.

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved.

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it.

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.”

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

586 notes · View notes

annievrse · 1 year ago

Text

boyfriend!gojo

—ᡣ𐭩 headcanons a/n: haahahahahahahahahhahahhahah.............

bf!gojo loves when you scratch him behind the ear like a damn cat

bf!gojo gives you 6 wet willies a day

bf!gojo is not allowed a pet because he wanted to cuddle with the fish yuuta got him……

bf!gojo goes on runs (i’m talking like 25km at once because he has so much energy all the time) and he wears singlets

bf!gojo begs for a sip of your drink because “it’s looks so much more delicious than his” so you let him and he drinks the whole thing :/

bf!gojo keeps track of everything you’ve ever said in his notes app so he doesn’t forget anything because his mind is going 2752 miles an hour, every hour, everyday

bf!gojo hums to himself 24/7 (mostly your favourite songs that are stuck in his head or, the most random songs that he’s only heard 24 seconds of thanks to yuuji & his giant fuck off speaker)

bf!gojo has a collection of sunglasses and puts them on you when he’s bored because he loves how cute you look in them

bf!gojo makes you brush his teeth when he’s being a little baby bitch & god forbid you don’t want his oral health to go to shit

i believe bf!gojo takes his shirt off and starts flexing obnoxiously if you say anything about how good he’s been looking lately (like he doesn’t look good all the time……), especially in the living room because “the lighting is better in here”

bf!gojo teleports to the shower (while you’re in it 😐) (“omg this isn’t the kitchen?????”)

bf!gojo loves when you wash his hair (when you’re in the shower together, he just tilts his head back and waits silently, sometimes shaking his hair when you take too long to realise)

bf!gojo watches you sleep and before you start omg ann that is creepy….. he has lost many people ok, gojo will do anything and everything in his power to make sure you don’t join that list, and if watching you sleep soundly helps him avoid a spiral, then let him be

bf!gojo allows you remove his blindfold to wash it because i know that thing is gross (smells citrus-y because other detergents make him feel sick (read: baby with fragrance sensitivity))

bf!gojo hates having his feet touched and will fight anyone who comes close to them

bf!gojo holds your hand every chance he gets, and plays with your fingers (cracking them even though it’s bad!!) like they’re fidget toys 😭

bf!gojo likes to be pampered by you (e.g. eyebrows plucked, non-existent beard shaved, face mask = on, skin = flawless & smooth)

bf!gojo invites all his students over for dinner every sunday and you all cook together (turns into cooking competitions: yuuta always wins & yuuji always complains for an entire week after saying he cheated (until the next week where it happens all over again))

bf!gojo cannot keep his mouth shut to save his life, but he will when you’re doing something that requires silence because he likes to watch you in such a way (reading, meditating, whatever you want; you are the only one who he will willingly shut the fuck up for <3)

#pls tell me everyone knows what a wet willy is #because i’ve got some anons in shock #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo imagine #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo fluff #boyfriend!gojo #boyfriend!satoru #— ann writes!

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izumkay · 1 month ago

Text

THE CONTRACT CLAUSE- |CH-1|

—SATORU GOJO

ღPairing- SatoruGojo×Fem!Reader

ღSummary- Thanks to your friend, Haibara, you land a job at the country’s top company—but CEO Satoru Gojo? He’s not impressed. Between causing him trouble and his infuriating charm, you quickly become his favorite target. But when things take an unexpected turn, Gojo finds himself in a position he never thought he’d be—desperate, frustrated, and drawn to you in ways he can’t ignore. The office just got a lot more dangerous—and a lot more heated.

Genres/tags- Modern AU, love triangle, Enemies to lovers, contract marriage, office romance, Sunshine×Grumpy, fluff, tension, forced proximity, Satoru is desperate for you, why not?

Warnings- 18+ only, sexual content, toxicity, angst, hate sex, mentions of death, blood, hurt/comfort, obsession, possessiveness, SA attempts.

Wc- 6.1k

♡A/n- and here's another series, kinda getting wild writting 4 fics at same time, my hands been itching to write this, and here it is, hope you enjoy this series😋

Next chapter!

You never expected to land a job at one of the most prestigious companies in the country. But here you were, walking through the gleaming halls of a corporate empire, thanks to your friend Haibara. He’d been raving about the opportunity for weeks, insisting you’d be perfect for it, despite the fact that your background wasn’t exactly corporate royalty.

"Don’t worry," Haibara said with a wink as he led you into the building, "Gojo’s an easy guy to get along with. Just don’t take him too seriously."

Easy? From what you’d heard about the CEO, Satoru Gojo was anything but easy. The man was a legend—charming, brilliant, and with a reputation for making life hell for anyone who crossed him. Not exactly the kind of person you’d expect to have an easy time with.

When Haibara introduced you to Gojo in the lobby, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. But when the CEO turned around, grinning like he owned the world, it was worse than you could’ve imagined.

"Ah, so this is the famous friend of Haibara," Gojo said, his tone light but his eyes scanning you with obvious amusement. "Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you."

You frowned, unsure how to take that. Haibara had warned you about Gojo’s charm, but you couldn’t help the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

"I’m sure you have," you replied coolly, "It’s hard not to leave an impression."

Gojo’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, trust me, I’m sure you’ll leave quite an impression here too."

You didn’t like the sound of that, but Haibara quickly ushered you away, probably sensing the tension already building.

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The first day at the company went exactly as you’d expected—awkward and filled with subtle judgments. As Haibara had promised, most people were friendly enough, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that some of them were sizing you up, like they didn’t quite believe you belonged. But nothing prepared you for your interactions with Gojo.

For the first few days, he kept his distance—mostly. But then came the first meeting, a big one that you’d been nervously preparing for. You had to present some data that, frankly, you weren’t entirely confident about. Just as you were halfway through your presentation, you heard Gojo’s voice cut through your nerves.

“Actually,” he interrupted with a cocky smile, “I think the numbers are wrong. Did you check these?”

Your stomach sank as all eyes in the room turned to you. Gojo leaned back in his chair, watching with mild amusement, his usual playful grin now tinged with a hint of superiority.

“I—I’m sure they’re accurate,” you stammered, trying to regain your footing. But Gojo didn’t back down.

"Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve missed a few important figures." His eyes glinted as he leaned forward, a mock-serious tone in his voice. "Maybe next time, you should double-check your work before presenting it."

You could feel the heat rising in your face. The room was silent, all attention on you. You glanced at Haibara, who gave you a sheepish smile, clearly not expecting this level of public humiliation.

“Gojo, I—” You cut yourself off, the urge to snap at him bubbling up. “Maybe you should check your own numbers first before you criticize mine.”

There was a brief, stunned silence before Gojo let out a laugh, loud and infectious. “Oh, I like you.” His eyes twinkled, and the way he looked at you felt more like a challenge than anything else. "Keep it up."

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The rest of the meeting was a blur. Every word you spoke felt like it was being analyzed, judged, and immediately met with Gojo’s cool, unbothered responses. By the time it ended, you were completely drained.

Haibara found you standing in the hallway afterward, clearly trying to regain some composure. “Hey, don’t let him get to you,” he said, offering a grin that was a little too wide to be comforting. "Gojo’s just... Gojo. He’s always like that with new people. He’ll come around."

You shot him a look. “If by ‘come around,’ you mean ‘make my life miserable,’ then yeah, I’m sure he will.”

Haibara laughed nervously, clearly not expecting this much tension so soon. “Just... try not to let him get under your skin too much. I know he’s a pain, but it’s all part of the job.”

You stared after Gojo’s retreating form, already plotting your next move. If he thought this was a game, well... you weren’t about to lose.

“He literally humiliated me during today’s presentation, Haibara,” you said through gritted teeth, storming down the hallway. “I was trying to make a good impression, and he—he mocked me in front of everyone.”

Haibara sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I warned you about Gojo. He’s… a lot. But that’s just how he is with everyone new. He likes to test people.”

“Test people?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “He practically made me look like a complete idiot. I’ll never live that down.”

Haibara gave you a sympathetic look, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. “Look, I get it. It’s not fun. But the thing about Gojo is, if he’s teasing you, it means he’s paying attention. He doesn’t waste his time on people he doesn’t care about.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait… you mean he does this to everyone? Just to mess with them?”

Haibara nodded, almost reluctantly. “Yeah. He’s not exactly known for being subtle. But if you can put up with it, you’ll see a different side of him. Trust me.”

“Great.” You sighed. “Now I’m supposed to just... what? Endure his reign of terror until he decides to show me that ‘different side?’”

“Exactly,” Haibara said, half-grinning. “And I’m pretty sure he’ll find a way to make it up to you—somehow. It’s just the way he works.”

You looked down the hallway, where Gojo had disappeared into his office. “I swear, I’m going to make him regret ever messing with me.”

Haibara just chuckled. “Careful what you wish for. Gojo’s not as easy to outsmart as you think.”

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The company cafeteria was bustling as usual, but you were in no mood to enjoy it. After the disaster of your first presentation, you'd barely managed to salvage your dignity. All you wanted was some peace and quiet with your lunch before heading back to work.

You were mid-bite when a shadow fell over your table.

"Well, if it isn’t my favorite new employee," a familiar, infuriating voice drawled.

You looked up to see Gojo, his signature cocky smile plastered across his face. He held a coffee cup in one hand and a perfectly balanced tray of food in the other, looking like he had all the time in the world. Without asking, he slid into the seat across from you.

"What do you want, Gojo?" you asked, your voice flat.

He leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered by your tone. “Nothing, really. I just thought I’d check in on you after that interesting performance in the meeting earlier. You know, see how you’re holding up.”

Your jaw tightened. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Are you, though?” he teased, resting his chin on his hand. “Because it looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing your laptop at me.”

You gripped your fork tightly. “I was two seconds away from throwing my shoe at you.”

Gojo laughed, loud enough to draw attention from nearby tables. “See? That’s the kind of passion I like to see in my employees. Keep that up, and you might actually survive here.”

You glared at him, your appetite completely gone. “Do you always make a habit of humiliating people in front of their colleagues, or am I just lucky?”

His smile faltered for the briefest moment, but then it was back, brighter than ever. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad. If anything, I was helping you toughen up. This industry isn’t for the faint of heart, you know.”

You didn’t bother responding, choosing instead to stab at your salad with a little too much force. Gojo, of course, didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care.

“You know,” he continued, as if he hadn’t already said enough, “if you ever need pointers on how to actually impress people in a meeting, I’d be happy to help. Just say the word.”

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stood abruptly. “You know what, Gojo? I don’t need your ‘help.’ What I need is for you to stop making my life a living hell.”

Without waiting for his response, you grabbed your tray and walked away, ignoring the amused chuckles that followed you. You could practically feel his smug grin burning into your back as you stormed out of the cafeteria.

You could feel the weight of other employees’ eyes on you as you stormed out of the cafeteria. It wasn’t hard to guess why—The Satoru Gojo had been sitting across from you, grinning like he didn’t have a care in the world, and you had dared to talk to him so casually, like he was nothing.

Whispers trailed behind you as you made your way to the elevator.

“Did you see how she talked to him?”

“Who even is she?”

“I heard Haibara got her the job…”

You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to turn around and snap at them. Of course, they were surprised. Gojo wasn’t just the CEO; he was practically a legend around here—charming, untouchable, and so ridiculously good-looking it made you sick. People probably bent over backward to please him, and yet here you were, treating him like the pain in the ass he was.

You pressed the elevator button with more force than necessary, muttering under your breath. “Why does he have to be so insufferable? Couldn’t he just ignore me like a normal boss?”

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped inside, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. As much as you hated to admit it, Gojo’s charm was dangerous—not because it worked on you, but because it made everyone else act like he could do no wrong.

But you? You saw through him. Beneath that perfect smile and effortless confidence was just a guy who got off on making people’s lives harder. Well, if he thought you were going to be another one of his fans, he had another thing coming.

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

Your shift finally ended, and the office was slowly emptying out as employees trickled toward the elevators. Letting out a sigh of relief, you pushed back in your chair, relaxing for the first time all day. Stretching your arms above your head, you savored the feeling of being done.

Grabbing your bag, you slung it over your shoulder and stood, ready to make your way home. But just as you turned, someone tapped your shoulder. Startled, you spun around to see a woman standing behind you.

She had brown hair, and though her dark circles made her look utterly exhausted, there was an air of calmness about her that instantly put you at ease. She looked like someone who had been through a lot but didn’t let it faze her.

“Hey, newbie,” she greeted, her voice soft and unhurried, as though the chaos of the office didn’t touch her. “I’m Shoko Ieiri. Pleasure to meet you.”

There was no sharpness, no judgment in her tone—just simple politeness. You felt your shoulders relax a little more.

You gave her a small smile and introduced yourself in return.

Shoko nodded, adjusting the strap of her bag. “I’ve seen you around. Figured I’d say hello before you got swallowed up by this place.” She gestured around the emptying office with a faint smirk.

You chuckled nervously. “Yeah, it’s… definitely been an interesting first few days.”

“Let me guess,” she said, raising an eyebrow knowingly. “Gojo?”

The way she said his name, with just a hint of exasperation, made you laugh despite yourself. “How’d you know?”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “Oh, he has a habit of singling people out. Likes to see how much he can push before they snap. Don’t let it get to you. He’s harmless—mostly.”

“Mostly?” you repeated, skeptical.

Shoko smirked. “He’s annoying, not evil. Though sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.” She tilted her head, studying you. “You stood up to him, didn’t you?”

Your face flushed slightly, and you shrugged. “I wasn’t about to just sit there and let him walk all over me.”

Shoko’s smirk widened into a small grin. “Good. He needs someone to put him in his place every once in a while. Just… don’t let him get too under your skin. That’s what he wants.”

You weren’t sure whether her advice was comforting or ominous, but it was nice to have at least one ally in this place.

“Well, thanks for the heads-up,” you said with a small smile.

Shoko waved you off. “No problem. And if you ever need a break from Gojo’s nonsense, come find me. I’m usually in the infirmary—or hiding on the roof.”

With that, she gave you a lazy wave and headed toward the elevators, leaving you standing there feeling a little less alone in this chaotic new world.

She's hot.

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The next few days were a blur of work, tension, and Gojo’s irritatingly constant presence. Each time you saw him, you could practically feel the weight of his eyes on you, his gaze a mix of amusement and challenge. It was like he was always waiting for you to crack, and you weren’t about to give him that satisfaction.

It wasn’t until a week later that things took a strange turn.

You were in the breakroom, pouring yourself a coffee when you heard footsteps approach from behind. Before you could turn around, a voice cut through the quiet hum of the room.

"Mind if I join you?"

You didn’t have to look to know it was Gojo. His voice was unmistakable.

You paused for a moment, then finally turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you... allowed in the breakroom?"

Gojo chuckled, clearly amused by your sarcasm. "I run this place, remember? I’m allowed wherever I want."

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your cool. "Right. Forgot about that."

He leaned casually against the counter, his presence taking up way too much space in the room. "You’re still holding a grudge about the meeting, huh?"

"Why would I not be?" You shot back, folding your arms. "You made me look like an idiot in front of everyone."

Gojo grinned. "I didn’t make you look like an idiot. I just pointed out what you missed. No big deal."

"No big deal?" You shook your head in disbelief. "That’s easy for you to say."

Gojo took a slow sip of his coffee, eyeing you with that infuriating, confident look. "You’ll get over it."

You felt the heat rise in your chest. “I’m not getting over it, Gojo. Not until you apologize.”

He blinked at you, as if surprised. “Apologize?”

“Yes, apologize,” you repeated firmly. “For humiliating me.”

For a moment, Gojo was silent. Then, in a tone that sounded way too calm for your liking, he said, "I don’t do apologies."

You stared at him, trying to suppress the frustration building inside you.

Gojo’s smile softened, just slightly, as he leaned closer. "But I do know how to make it up to people. If you’re willing to let me."

Before you could respond, he was already walking out, leaving you standing there, once again at a loss for words.

What's his problem? Fucking bastard.

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

It was lunchtime, and you were more than ready to get away from your desk for a bit of peace and quiet. You grabbed your lunch from your bag, planning to eat in solitude, away from the chaos of the office. The thought of being alone, if only for a little while, was comforting.

But as you started to make your way toward the breakroom, two girls appeared in front of you. They were dressed similarly—well-put-together, with matching smiles that felt a little too rehearsed.

“Hey, newbie,” one of them said in a sweet voice that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Wanna have lunch with us?”

You hesitated, glancing at the two of them. You weren’t in the mood for small talk. You just wanted to eat in peace. "Uh, no, you can go on, thanks," you replied, already feeling the discomfort of the situation.

But they didn’t move. Instead, they exchanged a look, almost like they were trying to decide something. Then, the other girl spoke up. “Come on, we’d love to get to know you better. You don’t want to eat alone, do you?”

You could feel the pressure mounting. It was clear they weren’t going to take no for an answer. You sighed, trying to keep your frustration in check.

“Really, it’s fine. I’m just—”

But the first girl cut you off, her tone more insistent now. “It’s not a big deal. We’ve already got a spot saved for you.”

They stepped forward, practically guiding you down the hallway toward the cafeteria. Your resistance was futile. They were pulling you into their orbit whether you liked it or not.

You shot a look of exasperation at them, but they only smiled sweetly, too sweetly, as if they had no idea how fake it all felt.

Great. Just what I need.

You let out a small groan as they guided you into the crowded cafeteria, making your way to a table at the far end, far enough to feel isolated from the rest of the office. They both sat down, pulling out their lunch with practiced ease, waiting for you to sit across from them.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” the first girl insisted, flashing you a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We don’t bite.”

You sat down, feeling the weight of their expectations press down on you. "Thanks," you muttered, unfolding your napkin and trying to focus on your food. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t just trying to be friendly.

“So,” the second girl began, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “How’s your first week been? We heard you’re special—you know, thanks to Haibara.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting a glance at her. “Special?”

“Oh, we’ve heard all about how Haibara got you the job. He’s quite the popular guy around here,” she said, her tone almost too casual, like she was fishing for something.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you focused on your food, trying to ignore the unease creeping up your spine. But the silence between you was thick, like they were waiting for you to crack, to say something.

It was then that the first girl leaned in slightly, her voice lowering as if she were about to share a secret. “You know, Gojo doesn’t usually take well to people who are… difficult to handle. And Gojo seems pretty interested in you.”

Your grip on your fork tightened. Of course, they knew. It was practically the office gossip by now.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said coolly, trying to hide your growing irritation. “I’m just here to do my job, like everyone else.”

But they weren’t buying it. The second girl smirked, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Oh, we’re sure you’re just here to do your job. But with Gojo, things don’t always go as smoothly as you’d like, right?”

You shot them both a look, your patience running thin. “Is there a point to this conversation, or are you just trying to get under my skin?”

The first girl giggled, but it sounded fake, like a high-pitched attempt to cover up something else. “We’re just saying… be careful. People around here might not be as nice as you think.”

You looked at them both, sensing the underlying threat in their words, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d made a huge mistake by getting caught up in this office politics mess.

But you weren’t about to back down. “Thanks for the warning,” you replied, with as much calm as you could muster. “But I can handle myself.”

The tension in the air was palpable, but they didn’t press further. Instead, they exchanged a look, nodded to each other, and then turned their attention back to their food, as if the conversation had never happened.

But you could feel the weight of their words hanging over you. Be careful.

You weren’t sure if it was their jealousy, or something more sinister, but one thing was clear—this wasn’t just about lunch anymore.

As the lunch continued, the two girls didn’t seem to let up. Instead of wrapping up their conversation, they ordered even more food—each plate arriving in front of them like they were trying to prove something. They smiled at each other, exchanging whispers, occasionally throwing glances your way.

“More food?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as a waiter brought over a massive platter of sushi and another tray of tempura. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

The first girl, who had barely touched her own meal, grinned. “Oh, we’re just hungry. And we thought you might want to try some more things. You know, since you’re still... adjusting to the office.”

You stared at the food, trying to make sense of their behavior. It was becoming clear that they weren’t just offering a kind gesture—they were making a statement. They wanted you to feel out of place, to see how out of their league you were.

“Don’t worry,” the second girl chimed in, her voice almost too sweet for comfort. “We’ll be here to help you with everything. We’re kind of experts around here, after all.”

You caught the undertone in her words, a hint of superiority that made your skin crawl. They weren’t interested in being friends. They were sizing you up, measuring you against their version of the office hierarchy.

Taking a deep breath, you forced a smile and said, “I’m good, really. Thanks.” You didn’t want their charity, nor did you want to be their pawn in whatever game they were playing.

But it didn’t matter. They kept piling food onto the table, filling every empty space as if to make sure you couldn’t escape their clutches. At that moment, you realized they weren’t just trying to be nice—they were trying to show off. They were flexing their power in this place, and you were just the unlucky newcomer caught in their spotlight.

Your stomach churned with the sudden feeling of being trapped. You had to get out.

The two girls continued to push food toward you, their smiles becoming more insistent with each passing minute.

"Come on, you’ve gotta try this," the first girl said, nudging a plate of sushi closer to you. "It’s really good. You wouldn’t want to miss out."

You glanced at the platter, feeling the weight of their gaze on you, the pressure mounting. But there was no way you were going to eat with them—not after everything that had just happened.

You shook your head, forcing a polite smile. "Thanks, but I’m fine. I’m really not that hungry."

They exchanged another look, the kind that made you feel like you were being judged in ways you couldn’t fully comprehend. The second girl raised an eyebrow, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "Oh, come on, don’t be shy. We ordered all this for you, after all."

You stiffened. All this for me? It was clear now. They weren’t being generous. They were trying to trap you in their world, to make you feel like you owed them something.

"No, really," you said, shaking your head more firmly this time. "I’m not hungry. You can enjoy it yourselves."

The first girl leaned back, folding her arms with a small pout. "You sure? It’s really good."

You met her gaze evenly, refusing to let the discomfort show. "I’m sure. Thanks, but no thanks."

They finally seemed to get the message, though they didn’t look happy about it. They stopped pressing, but the atmosphere around you had shifted. The two girls returned to their food, but there was a coldness in the air now, a silent tension that hung between you.

You pushed your plate away slightly, your appetite completely gone. You could feel the weight of their judgment, like they were watching you closely, waiting for you to slip up, to give in to their pressure.

But you wouldn’t. Not with them.

As you stood up, ready to make your escape from the uncomfortable situation, you couldn’t help but notice that the two girls had devoured every last bite of the food. Of course they did. They were practically setting you up for this.

You sighed, preparing to head back to your desk and pretend this entire ordeal never happened. But as you started to walk away, one of them called out, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Where are you going?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in mock confusion. "Pay for this all first. You were giving us a treat, right?"

You stopped dead in your tracks. A treat? Your stomach dropped as realization hit. There was no way you were treating them. You had barely enough money for your own lunch, let alone the absurd amount of food they had ordered.

You turned around, trying to keep your composure. "What? When did I say that? Look, I don’t even have—"

But before you could finish, the second girl interrupted, her tone more forceful now. "Oh, come on. You said yourself you’d treat us. Pay up." She smirked, like she knew exactly what was going through your mind.

No way.

The cafeteria suddenly felt much smaller. You could feel the eyes of everyone around you, the whispers, the judgment. You had no idea how many people were watching, but it felt like the entire place was waiting for you to make a fool of yourself.

Your heart raced, the beat echoing in your ears. Shit, shit, shit. You felt the blood rush to your face, the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks. You didn’t even have enough to cover your own meal, let alone all of this.

"Look, I—I can’t pay for this," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it cracked, betraying the panic you were feeling.

The first girl’s grin widened. "Really? Because you said you would. And now you’re backing out? Interesting."

The tension in the room was unbearable. It felt like everyone was just waiting for you to crack. The whispers grew louder, and you could feel the judgment pressing down on you. Your hands trembled at your sides.

You glanced around, desperately searching for an escape, but there was none. They had cornered you, and now you were the center of attention in the worst possible way.

The tension in the cafeteria was suffocating. Your face was burning, your stomach twisted in knots. Every pair of eyes seemed to be on you, waiting for you to somehow get out of this mess. You could feel the heat of their gazes, the quiet murmur of voices spreading like wildfire.

The second girl stepped closer, her grin widening. "I guess we’ll just have to tell everyone how generous you are, huh? Backing out of your word like this?"

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your words, but before you could say anything else, the sound of the door to the cafeteria opened, and a calm, deep voice broke through the tension.

"Is there a problem here?"

You turned instinctively toward the voice, and there, standing in the doorway with a quiet confidence, was Suguru Geto.

He was dressed in a sharp suit, his expression cool and composed, like he had just stepped out of a boardroom meeting. Suguru’s gaze shifted from you to the two girls, then back to you, noticing the way you were practically frozen in place, trapped in an impossible situation.

The two girls didn’t seem as confident now, glancing at Suguru with a mix of surprise and unease. Suguru stepped forward, his calm demeanor not shifting an inch.

"What’s going on here?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The first girl opened her mouth to speak, but Suguru raised a hand to stop her, his voice steady but firm. "You’ve been harassing her for a while now. I’m guessing that’s not exactly ‘friendly,’ is it?"

They both fell silent, unsure how to respond. Suguru's presence alone seemed to have a calming effect, though it was clear they weren’t used to someone calling them out so directly.

Finally, Suguru turned to you, his expression softening slightly as he spoke. "Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it."

Without waiting for a reply, Suguru walked over to the counter, where he paid for the entire meal with a few smooth motions, the cashier offering a respectful nod.

Turning back to you, he gave a small smile. "You’re free to go now. I’ll handle the rest."

You stared at him for a moment, your heart still racing, but a small wave of relief washing over you. How did he know to step in?

The girls exchanged a quick, frustrated glance but said nothing. They were no longer in control of the situation. Suguru's intervention had completely shifted the power dynamic, and just like that, you were no longer the center of their mockery.

"Thank you," you muttered, feeling a bit of gratitude and confusion mix together.

Suguru gave a simple nod, his expression still composed. "No problem. You don’t have to thank me. Just... be careful with those two."

With that, he gave you a small, reassuring smile before turning to leave. As he walked away, the weight of the situation seemed to lift, and you let out a long, shaky breath.

You watched Suguru walk away, your heart still racing from the wave of relief that washed over you. The girls were no longer a threat, and you were free from the embarrassment, but something else lingered. Something you hadn’t expected.

As Suguru’s back disappeared through the cafeteria doors, you couldn’t help but feel this rush of gratitude and something else—something deeper, more unsettling. He was so nice. The way he had stepped in, so calm and effortless, his composed demeanor... He had a certain presence that made you feel safe, like no one could touch you as long as he was around.

But there was more than that. You couldn’t ignore the way your heart skipped a beat when he spoke to you, how his cool gaze seemed to hold your attention with every word.

You had barely known him for a moment, but that moment felt like it had lingered. The way he effortlessly took charge of the situation, the way he seemed to care without any hesitation—it made you want to know more.

His dislikes. His likes. Everything.

What was he like? What did he enjoy? You found yourself curious, almost desperate to find out. You wanted to ask him questions, to uncover every little detail about him, even if you had no idea where to start.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. Focus. You’re at work. You don’t have time to get caught up in this.

But it was hard to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever you thought about him. Suguru Geto had just saved you from a world of embarrassment, and now all you could think about was how incredibly cool he was.

And, as much as you tried to push it away, a small part of you wondered just how much of that coolness was a façade—and how much was real.

As you made your way back to your desk, your mind kept circling back to the brief interaction with Suguru. The gratitude, the rush of emotions, and the way he had effortlessly handled the entire situation. It wasn’t just about saving you from the awkwardness—it was the way he made you feel seen, like you mattered in a place where you were still just a newcomer.

You sank into your chair, the familiar hum of the office surrounding you, but your thoughts were elsewhere. Suguru Geto. The name echoed in your mind. He was calm, composed, and kind. You didn’t know why, but you wanted to know more. Much more.

You took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts aside for the moment. Work wasn’t over, and there were plenty of things you still had to get done. But as you opened your laptop, your thoughts lingered on him, on how his presence had felt like an anchor in the chaos.

You shook your head, trying to get back to work. Focus. One thing at a time. But deep down, you knew this was only the beginning of something far more complicated than you could have imagined.

The day went on, but your mind stayed with Suguru. And for some reason, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that this was just the start of something far more intriguing than you’d ever anticipated.

A/n- I swear guys this is a Satoru×reader fic, Trust🙏🔥

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