Alex is trying new things

i write x reader because im brave

[alexlexperiments]

Gold Rush. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

By the very nature of his troubled, deranged personality, without even considering any sort of biological factors, dragon hybrid! Satoru was a possessive man. Even as a young boy, he was never quite known for sharing his toys on the playground and that weirdly territorial child evolved into a weirdly territorial manchild who had only gotten a bit better at hiding his hoarding tendencies. Through the years, he had learned how to hide any sort of gold-sick gleam in his eyes and hold back the worst of his draconic instincts. But that didn’t mean they weren’t there. 

And when he finally met you, everything he tried so hard to keep under wraps started to unravel.

You were the cute new hire under some departament or other in his company - a junior analyst with a keychain filled purse, an imaginable amount of trinkets on your desk and a fidgeting stance. On one rainy Tuesday, you just so happened to catch the same elevator as him, sighing over you wet Converses as if you hadn’t just shifted the axis of his entire universe.

One look. One quiet sniff. That’s all it took. 

Suddenly the elevator felt too big - there was too much space between your bodies, an insurmountable and unforgivable amount of centimeters he had to cross in order to gather you in his arms; The smell of your perfume had covered the closed box and overtaken his senses, pupils doubling in size; And the dragon inside of him started purring, not unlike an oversized cat, chuffing and growling something akin to mine, mine, mine, mine…

“I’m sorry?” you asked, suddenly turning your pretty eyes to him. Eyes like jewels, round precious stones like treasures, his to protect, his to own…

Wait. Had he said that aloud? 

You were still blinking at him, clearly waiting for an answer, seeming a bit put off by his intense staring. He coughed, trying to will his voice to work, face flushed for what seemed like the first time in a decade. When you looked at him, half concerned and half freaked out, he did not feel like the confident owner of the building you were both at, he felt like a gangly teen again, fumbling with a crush. 

“Mine, I mean, my!” he said, trying to salvage the situation and a bit of face “My floor, this is my floor, so… Excuse me.” 

You stepped aside and he got out, breathing in the clear ear. Looking back at the elevator, he saw you smile slightly and wave as the doors closed out, effectively taking you away. And that stupid dragon inside him snarled, furious at being deprived of your presence.

Satoru looked around at what was most definitely not his floor, slightly stranded literally and metaphorically, his heart attempting to beat itself out of his chest in tandem with the much less innocent - but still romantic in its own carnal way - hardness in his pants putting the strength of his zipper to the test. He resigned himself to taking the stairs, hoping the seven flights or so would clear his head of the urge to claw his way back to you and let loose everything he had been taught to hold back. But when he finally got to the top floor, sweaty and panting, his thoughts remained on you - the missing gem of his collection.

[alexlexperiments]

Ex-boyfriend CEO! Satoru did not see that coming!

Ex-boyfriend CEO! Satoru did not move on from things. No, he would much rather gnaw on the metaphorical bone of his inconveniences to the marrow and stew, pout and annoy his way through any hardship, until things were finally done his way - the right way, as he would call it. A Satoru problem was a communal problem so it was in everyone’s best interest to keep him appeased.

When you broke up with him (out of nowhere!, he would say, despite your many convoluted discussions and screaming matches that ended on a flying shoe heading straight to his head), one would believe the apocalypse had finally arrived if the sudden hovering cloud of doom that covered the however-many-floors skyscraper of Gojo Industry was any indicator. Satoru dragged himself through the halls like an emo wraith, a strong-smelling flask in one hand and a comically large Hershey’s bar in the other, sucking the joy and laughter out of every room he entered.

Now, one might ask if he hadn’t fought for your relationship, considering you were, in his very own Shakespearian words, “his pookie”. And of course he would! He had fought much harder for much less, e.g the Great Kikufuku Fistfight of 2010. He would’ve hung outside your window with a boombox playing every Glee song until your neighbours threw stones at him; he would’ve bought you a whole ass Pop Mart so you could open every single surprise box until you forgave him; he would’ve… He would’ve… He would’ve worked on himself - grow by your side and become a better version of the man you initially fell in love with. He would evolve from his current ever-hungry, sassy manchild state to an… Well, ever-hungry, sassy manadult (?).

If only you gave him a chance! Instead, you had disappeared from the face of the earth as soon as you shut the door behind you, gone without a trace much like Nanami’s side bangs and just as missed. Suddenly, Satoru couldn’t find your socials, reach your number or contact your friends and family. If it wasn’t for a couple of belongings you left behind, he would’ve thought he dreamt of your relationship in a vape and Red Bull induced haze.

Now, years later and much more mature, no longer leaving his wet towel on the bathroom floor or smoking tutti-frutti summer tropical e-cigs, he still carried your vacancy like a scar, the weight of all the love he had stored for you sagging his posture. And despite his easy laughter, lazy smiles and concerningly odd gait, his stare was always a bit disconnected or dissociated, daydreaming of the day you would come back to his arms, all sins forgotten and forgiven.

Well, when that day finally came, it did not go exactly as he had planned or written down on his journal with crass stick figure illustrations depicting your first night together in a way that had even his stoic friend suguru blushing to the roots of his luscious hair. No, it happened when he was in the ER after swallowing a small Happy Meal plastic toy (don’t ask) and a young child with striking blue eyes sat next to him, legs kicking underneath the too high chair, looking chastised.

“Tough day?” he asked the child as if they were both salary men complaining at an izakaya.

The boy nodded grimly. “Ate too much candy”, he admitted. “Threw up. Scared momma.”

Ah, the wonders of childhood. “Yup” Satoru agreed “Been there. I once ate 3 packages of fruity pebbles in one day.” He refrained from telling the child that happened when he was in college, as that information was inconsequential.

“Momma doesn’t let me eat so much candy.”

“She seems like a smart lady. I had a girlfriend who didn’t like when I ate too much candy too.”

“You don’t have a girlfriend anymore?” the boy asked and Satoru suddenly felt as if he had met the smallest therapist ever for a free session.

“No. She left.”

“Because of all the candy?”

Satoru paused. Oh my God, could it be because of all the candy? “I… I don’t think so?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t eat candy,” the child mused. “I don’t want momma to leave.” 

Satoru looked around for the possible mother of the tiny shrink. “Where is your mother, by the way?” 

“Hiro!” a voice called. “There you are baby!”

Satoru had several thoughts at the same time, his epiphany pulling out a gasp from his throat that lodged the fucking toy even deeper in his airways. 

The first thought, intrusive and instinctual, was of how pretty you looked. Older and matured, filled out in all the right places. You paradoxically looked exactly the same, but somehow better.

The second thought was about how he was never great at math nor at telling children’s age. But even he could add two and two and come up with an educated guess at that boy’s parentage, considering the lazuli eyes and the worrying taste for forbidden candy. 

The third and final thought was of how lucky he was to already be in the ER, because he was about 76% sure he was having a heart attack.

A/N: english is not my first language and this is my first time writing for the JJK universe, so feedback would be greatly appreciated!