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reblog acc | 20 multi i love jisung <3

[grenadehearts]

❣︎ ⋮ 𓏵‧ . yuji loves his shy girlfriend. . . pure tooth rotting fluff 𓏲 !

yuji itadori was often described as loud, sometimes even rather childish, yet he always seemed to know the right thing to say. and even when he didn’t, he had that easygoing charm that drew everyone into his orbit. he was sunshine in the form of a boy with calloused hands.

you were the exact opposite.

despite your boyfriend being the most outgoing, loud person you knew, always having something to say, always able to blend into any crowd, you wished you could operate the way your boyfriend did. you were often described as quiet, and even peculiar at times, never knowing what to say. and when you finally gathered the fading courage to speak, it somehow always came out wrong. you were always met with blank stares and judgment-filled looks.

you laughed at all the wrong things. you somehow managed to trip over your own two feet. and you found yourself more often then not wanting to shrink away into the comfort of your own solitude.

how did she end up with him?

it’s something you’ve heard people say in passing. it’s something you’ve even wondered yourself at times.

but whenever you begin to express that doubt, you’re met with immediate denial. in fact, it’s one of the few times you ever see your goofy boyfriend become somber and quiet, his lips pressed into a thin, serious line.

“why do you keep saying that?” he asks softly. “seriously, why?”

his voice isn’t teasing this time.

“i’m with you because i like you. it’s really that simple. there’s no hidden catch or anything.”

his tone drops into a hushed reassurance.

“so don’t listen to people like that, okay?

his large hands immediately cradle your face, palms splayed across your cheeks as he presses a soft kiss against your temple, letting his body melt into yours.

yuji is always there to make sure you’re comfortable.

like when the two of you run into his old classmates from middle school. their boisterous voices call out across the street, and yuji immediately turns around, his hand settling on your shoulder.

his head tilts slightly, baby pink strands falling around his face and framing his sharp features. his eyes, deep pools of honey-brown, soften as they meet yours. a small smile appears, one he seems to save only for you.

“there’s no need to be shy,” he says gently. “they’re nice, baby.”

you crane your head, finally getting a look at the group behind him. they’re all broad shoulders, smug grins, and the exact kind of faces that make your stomach twist.

“are you sure, yuji? they look kinda…”

you trail off, trying to find the nicest possible way to phrase it, but there really isn’t one.

“mean.”

he glances back at them, making sure they aren’t paying attention before looking at you again.

“okay,” he admits with a sheepish smile. “maybe a little bit.”

you give him a look.

immediately, he brightens.

“but it’ll be okay. we gotta at least give them a chance.”

he looks down before holding out his pinky.

you intertwine yours with his without a blink of hesitation.

his smile widens, cheeks a delicate pink as he grins.

“pinky promise. everything’s gonna be okay."

and during the conversation, whenever their attention shifts toward you, yuji is always there, throwing you a small encouraging smile. a silent reminder that he’s right beside you.

when you and yuji first met, it was, very oddly, mundane.

you were sitting on a bench in the courtyard when a flash of pink hair came barreling through, coming to a halt at your feet. his hands appeared to be covered in dirt and scuff marks, probably from training, you imagined.

he spoke now, a little out of breath, clearly sheepish as he came to a stop like he hadn’t expected anyone to be there. “uh—hey… sorry,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck as if suddenly aware of himself. “can you unscrew the lid on this? i would, but my hands are dirty.”

he gave a small, airy laugh after saying it, like he was trying to make the whole thing feel less awkward. in his hand was a red metal bottle. it matched the red of his shoes, you thought faintly.

as you finally lifted your head to meet his gaze, you were greeted by amber eyes—soft, wide, unguarded. tanned skin. pink hair with brown peeking through his undercut. his eyes crinkled when he smiled, sweat still clinging lightly to his brow.

he was beautiful. almost angel-like, bathed in the sun’s radiant glow.

the moment you fully took him in, you felt the air leave your lungs, halted and stuck in place. somehow, the sight of him spoke directly to your heart. your mind became a haze, and you found yourself nauseous with a lovesick feeling.

with clammy palms and shaking nerves, your weak, hesitant hands twisted the cap off while an expectant yuji waited, watching you with open, patient curiosity that somehow made it worse.

when you finally handed him back the bottle and cap, your skin still felt like it was burning from his proximity.

“ah—thanks,” he said quickly, like he’d just remembered his manners, then hesitated for a second as if thinking. “uh, actually—can you hold the lid for me? i’ll go fill this up real fast. i really don’t want it getting dirty.”

you nodded before you could overthink it.

he sprinted off and was back in less than thirty seconds, sporting a wild grin and messy hair from the run. you watched him chug the water, his adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow. afterward, he brought the back of his sleeve up to wipe away the water dribbling down his chin.

you also noticed his hands were clean now.

he must have washed them in that little time span.

he’s quick.

when you handed him back the lid, he thanked you with such enthusiasm it was almost comparable to a little kid in a candy store. and he was completely genuine about it.

“seriously, thank you,” he said, almost too earnest, like he meant every syllable, which he did. that’s how yuji itadori was. there wasn’t a single malicious bone in his body. his heart was pure, and you were sure that if he were cut open, he’d bleed gold.

“i’m yuji itadori, by the way. before i forget—what’s your name?”

“y/n,” you replied, almost too quietly, but you saw the way his ears perked up like a puppy dog.

he flashed a boyish grin, followed by a quick wave like he was already comfortable talking to you. “nice to meet you, y/n! and hey, thanks again. i’ll see you around.”

you were sure he only meant it as something polite. something most people say and forget.

but it wasn’t.

after that, you started seeing him more often. and every time he spotted you, he’d call your name from a distance loudly and proudly, full of pure enthusiasm as he gave an excited wave.

sometimes after practice, he’d drift back toward the courtyard without really thinking about it, like something about it pulled him in, hoping to find you sitting on that bench. and when he did, he always sat with you.

he found everything about you softly endearing. and stupidly cute. you were adorable in his eyes.

inevitably, things soon blossomed into something more.

yuji was patient enough to get to know the real you, and somehow, he’d come a long way since then. you both had.

when you first met, during those early days of getting to know each other, you could barely maintain eye contact. the second his pupils met yours, and you noticed the way his lashes fluttered whenever he blinked, brushing gracefully against his skin, your eyes would dart elsewhere.

you often found fiddling with your hands and zoning in on your nail beds and cuticles far more interesting than looking at him.

he’d tilt his head, following wherever your gaze wandered.

“hey,” he’d say softly. “look at me.”

“why?” you asked, defensive without meaning to be.

“please.”

you’d only look at him for a brief second before a dazed smile painted his features.

really, he just wanted an excuse to drink in your face and pretty eyes.

yuji loved how shy you were.

he loved his shy girlfriend—his complete opposite in every way.

and even now, after all this time, you still squirm under his compliments, still turn red under his touch and gaze. the smallest things he does still send butterflies fluttering through your chest like it’s the first time all over again.

he never judged you.

never mocked you.

when you went out to eat, he always ordered for you. in public, his hand was always in yours or resting at the small of your back, steady and grounding. his attention never drifted—it always stayed on you.

yuji was like the sun, and you were the moon.

warmth and quiet reflection, two forces entirely different from one another yet chasing after each other, bright golden rays and a silky moonlight glow, a perfect contrast, softening one another in the sky.

yuji adored his shy girl.

he liked knowing he was one of the few people who got to see that unguarded side of you. that he was the only one who could pull a real, unfiltered laugh out of you.

and he especially loved the way he was always the one to kiss the embarrassment off your face.

when anxiety started creeping back in—thoughts turning inward, your face going red again—yuji was always there.

kissing your cheeks, your nose, and then finally your mouth. soft, incessant pecks of love scattered across your face.

his lips were warm against yours, his palms cradling your face like something precious. your hair caught gently between his fingers as he held you there, unhurried.

and when he pulled away, there was always that brief moment where you went quiet, a little dazed, like you had to come back to yourself again.

and he was always already stupidly smiling when you did. a big dopey grin plastered across his face.

masterlist - kofi - emergency comm info!

note : plz this is so self indulgent also peep naruhina in the banner i love them they’re so dear to me and i felt like they fit this fic so much. . . also bc naruto and yuji are literally so similar and hinata is acc me, like i said self indulgent forgive me 𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟 !

taglist : @xoxojisu @esilek @candiiee @cvnt4him @congratsyouarebunny @lotusstarr @cupkiki @3lenaatvt @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @wonubby @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @luckybibucky @changkyunnnie @twoplayergaymers @izutwos @doubelieveme @ivankinnieclatter @roronoafushiguroaratakahakari @green-orange-bloom @sparklylanddetective @lem-hhn @gaige312 @ryobaby @hrts4cupid @buuxbear @b00rants @v4mp1r3b4tzz @trilxogyyy @loveergirll @searchingfornothinggg @megumisrighttoe @rarebambi @vitya124 @sogmarizzler @lilfluffybunny @dreamyreadinglover @nonokoo @yxo7 @sunnyfieldsz @ludmiig @azizxxxah @lun3z @sweetwonieee @yutterfly @aimseve @fayezombiez take a look at this post to be added, or removed!

[mysticdreams10]

marriage was never in his mind, never something he believed he was interested in to begin with. not something that was in the lining of his life. the marriages in the clan he was born into were constructed out of unadulterated material gain and a climbing status achieved from joining names. they were loveless. stuck between a woman and her tyrannical husband. a spineless man and his tired wife. 

but he sits still, at the wooden table, as his uncle slides the marriage contract in your hand. your trembling hand. prying eyes all gaze over at you—anticipating and curious. all except for his. his uncle’s mouth curls into a toothy smile, it was bone-chilling. you wholeheartedly avoid the sight alone. staring at the paper that sealed your fate. toji’s hand curls around the ceramic. his expression was unreadable. stony. cold. 

in the garden of the estate, you were wedded to him. it was surprisingly beautiful given how evil, how gutturally cold the clan was. matching golden rings. eyes like concrete walls, there were no vows exchanged, not even a peck. it was not until he watched you crawl into the little tatami mat the night of your wedding that he was forced with his new reality.

finally, it finished, rather quickly. the pretty and white gown you scored for a cheap price pools around your body. he closes the door, untying his black yukata, green eyes observing you. really observing you. 

he says nothing. still. there was no sound but the ruffling of him discarding the obsidian-black yukata and a charged tension as you gaze back at him. the moonlight shines, making your eyes appear like a pair of glimmering gemstones.

you don’t say much either. but you always politely greet him. pouring him a cup of steaming green tea with one cube of sugar to sweeten the bitter taste. opening the curtains so he does get up in the mornings. waits up for him and sleeping when the soft and languid splash of water sounds as he sinks into the onsen. 

a quiet presence, that was overpowering. 

you would speak sometimes. 

“how was training? “, when he comes in, sweat beads trickling down his body, his robe hanging over his shoulder. his pants fill the room.

“do you want the light off? “, when the meeting with his father lasted way too long, and his hurts and psychological scars resurfaced at the utter of the older male’s voice. 

“drink up”, in the virginal mornings.

“goodnight, toji“, in the soundless night. 

he would grunt in response to most of those, ignoring the way his chest feels—tight yet warm. 

“you pretendin’ to tolerate me or somethin’? that old geezer paid you too, huh? “ 

he asks as the both of you drift, walking around the estate. it was afternoon and training ended earlier than usual. than expected. his clad feet trotting down the grainy path. you walk alongside him, not too close, not too far, just cordial.

you don’t show an ounce of the frustration you feel inside at his careless words, only glancing up at him with a deceptively soft expression, sharpened by the emotion in your eyes. he mutters a curse under his breath. 

“no. i’m not pretending. nor am i being paid to…be here. “ you say, shaking your head, “i want to be here. i wouldn’t if i didn’t want to. “

it then comes the time where you both were to consummate the marriage. something that naobito drilled in his head, to start the essential process of your marriage—to provide a legacy. something his father scolded him for not being able to do; his failure of manhood. 

he was anxious. for the first time. they hated him, his own blood, what made a difference if he was to bring a child into the world? they would hate them too. the sin of zen’in toji. his karma.

but, he does it anyway. you agreed to. a dark night at an ungodly hour, he has you covered bare and lying underneath him. a blanket wrapped around the both of you for a sense of modesty, yet nothing was modest about the way his hands desperately gripped your trembling thighs, bruising, bunching the half-hearted discarded skirt you were wearing at your waist. you moan. and he grunts out a groan, eyes fluttering shut as his length slides inside your heat. sloshing sounds. heavy pants. delving through you. it was like he was toying with your body how he pleased, but you couldn’t care less; especially as your arousal soils the tatami mat beneath. 

his mindless hips slamming against the plushness of your body, watching that blissed out expression on your face. you responded and received him so well. 

his mouth sloppily meets yours. you kiss him back, chasing fervency and passion. dwarfing hands cupping your face as your tongues duel. 

pushing your legs further around his waist so he deliciously slides in with deep and long strokes. so deep, you keen. hands holding onto his bulging arms, whimpering in pleasure. he’s close. you’re close. the pace quickens, just like his callous hands on your clit. your fingers dig into his skin, crying out. 

“toji. “ it only took the way you breathlessly cry out his name at your undoing and those glassy eyes, that spurs his own. toji groans, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you impossibly closer—his sweaty, tanned skin with those fading and graphic scars littering it, pressing against your skin. face nuzzling the crook between your neck and shoulder, where he sucks a dark bruise, kissing to soothe. his hips bucking as his release paints your inside, overflowing. 

you do end up pregnant. slowly sauntering out of the infirmary as he exits the training grounds, simultaneously. skin reddened from the heat of the sun, breathing heavily, he nears you. you gaze over at him, almost anxiously. 

“what’d she say? “ he lowly mutters, towering above you. but it wasn’t like the opposing shadows of the other chauvinistic men, no, it was comforting in some way. 

“i’m…pregnant. three weeks now. “

your hands tremble around the paper with the results written on it. and your eyes dart around the narrow halls, before peering into his. his sharp emerald orbs soften entirely; no more of that competitive ire, or resentment, or indifference. concern. 

“okay…” he starts, his drenched and long bangs hovering over his eyes, as he observes your face—the deep furrow in between your eyebrows, your slightly wobbling lips, “you okay? “ 

you only sighed in response. and that, that was a response enough for him. reluctantly, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in closer, in an action he was not familiar with. but he does anyway. 

your head lies against his heaving chest, nestling and nuzzling into his taut skin. 

seeing you with a growing bump, his child in there—the creation the two of you made, it was…odd. you unhurriedly began to switch from cotton to sheer and silk fabrics, something to freely accommodate your growing body and the swell. waddling around in robes. panting softly. you looked sweeter, delicate. even though only he knew how uncomfortable you felt sometimes. 

but it was still odd. 

the man handles you with care, still keeping that characteristic gruffness and edge, but it softens. like when he helps you out of bed in the morning even as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes were partially closed. you said you needed to use the bathroom. or the times where whatever you craved—weird or not, was at your reach. 

by hand, he built the crib for the baby. 

by hand, he organizes the closet, adding little jumpers for the baby. 

this was intense anxiety clouding his chest. nights spent staring at your belly as you peacefully slept. his dwarfing hands caressing and holding the bump like it was unreal. surreal was the better feeling. 

it solidified when your body locked and water gushed down your legs somewhere along the walk you two were taking. and she arrived. she, his daughter, emi. she was precious, too precious for him. too pure and sweet, with her coos when her belly was full of breast milk and your chest felt like the softest pillow ever. the infirmary falls into a lull. brightened with a warm lighting. he stays closer to the cot, his silent presence a gentle reminder that he was here and going to be.

the man eyes her with curiousity—her small pink mittens, a white jumper, and a plain blanket wrapped around her tiny body. 

“wanna hold her? “ 

“i don’t know how to- “ he utters out, because he did not know how to be within her life, just only a few hours after she arrived. how to be around her. all he knew was roughness, aggression and fear. how to hold her? what if she cries sensing the intensity of his hurts? sensing what the clan members did? 

“come on, toji. you’re not gonna break her. i promise. “ you softly mutter, tiredly laying against the cot as a few servants and nurses wander the room. 

when she is placed in his hands and he holds her, she immediately curls into his bare chest, fitting almost like a puzzle piece. 

“i wasn’t this small when i was a baby, emi. “ toji whispers—seriously. his eyes soften, though, at the sound of your sound chuckles. 

he looks over at you, reclining on the cot; your favourite robe soiled with water and soaked with blood and other fluids. really looks. and before he could stop himself, his hand delicately pushed the wet strands from your forehead. cupping your cheek like you were precious. 

this was what he wasn’t allowed to have. softness. a family. his own. he knew his uncle would angrily grumble, his father openly scolding him for being too delicate, for not being that tyrannical husband he saw his father be or the spineless man. 

it wasn’t until midnight, one day, where he picked up his family, the belongings they owned, and escaped the estate. where he didn’t see a future in the clan. not anymore. your bleary eyes blinking to adjust to the midnight abyss as you trudge over to the car. you hold emi in your arms, arms wrapped protectively around her. thuds sounded. he hauls everything he could into the trunk, into the back seat, before hopping into the driver’s seat. 

“toji, where…are we goin-you think they’re gonna c-come for us? “ 

you’re scared too.

he gazes over at you, at emi, his eyes softening. “trust me…please. “ 

and you nod. 

[blueberrycandymuffin]

unknown ⤷ nerd? — masterlist

PART 1 !

PART 2 !

PART 3 !

PART 4 !

PART 5 !

PART 6 !

extra — dirty talk? (mdni!)

taglist is closed.

this series is completed, but i may post extras if i feel like it.

[99liners]

territorial gone wrong — a. daiki;

pairings: aomine daiki x gn!reader

genre: angst, fluff at parts i guess but mostly angst, lemme hurt u pls :(.

words: 2.595

request: @uhkoshee asked: hi!! can i request an angsty kuroko or aomine fic? maybe a situation where they allow their jealously to take over && start assuming their gf is cheating on them , wid someone in the gom. when in reality she was jus tryna find the best gift for his bday): anything to break my heart </3

a/n: get this, you sent this request back in march sjfghjhfjs i have been sitting on this for four months. i am so sorry that i lost inspiration in the middle to write anything at all. hope you like this.

taglist: @seijoharlot​ | @carinacassiopeiae​ |

summary: this chapter is set four years after territorial. the last time when he thought you were cheating on him with hisoka morrow, things were managed once you told him the truth why you were ignoring him but with time, daiki has only fed into his territorial nature and grown more possessive till the point where anything and everything sets him off.

Keep reading

[sosterias]

Previous → Best kept secret pt. 3 → next

Pairing: secret admirer!gojo x fem!reader Synopsis: You randomly got a text from an unknown number and turns out they are a secret admirer. It seems that they are determined to keep their identity secret, not even giving the slightest hint.

Perm tags: @dreamydaredevil @chewiebee

Tags: @w0undf0ck3r @xiaoderrrr

[beomzone]

hehe so cute

[allroadstobeatopia]

Stay or just leave me be 𓇢𓆸

˚₊ · »-♡̷→ You're tired of Megumi leaving.

The day you confessed to him was one of the few things you dreaded thinking about.

The days leading up to it were however a bliss. You had let Yuji get into your head about how you were the perfect pair. Even worse when all you did was dream of it. How wrong he was

You knew Megumi was distant, that he wasn't easy to talk to. So you kept your distance at first, but when stolen glances and unmistakable tension added up

Perhaps you let yourself get closer, just a little bit.

Even when it seemed he didn't want to talk to you-to even be near you at all

The sign was staring straight at you when he had accepted your confession with nothing more than a mere nod.

Rough mission? You thought, deep down you knew otherwise. And i want it all the time

There wasn't much to say, it's not like he pushed you away, he just never held you close either. He held you in the palm of his hand, not tight enough to keep you from slipping through his fingers at any moment. while i'm yours and you are mine

Sometimes Yuji and Nobara got to see a glimpse of smile, even a laugh while at it. The only glimpse you ever saw was him coming back late after missions and walking straight back to his dorm. Guess there can't be problems if you two don't have anything to fight about. Going steady till we lie

Waiting hours for him didn't seem so bad when he gave you a kiss on the forehead afterwards. Now you can't remember the last time it happened. high at sunrise

Megumi notices all the little things, so naturally when you started pulling away he had the option to reach out and close the gap. Instead he turned a blind eye to it, it'd be easier if he didn't see your heart breaking into two. All I wanted was to see everything you see in me

He knows he could be better. He knew be the boyfriend you actually wanted. The loving couples on the street only made his soul sink further as the realization hit him, what the hell was he doing? everything I wanna be

The last straw was seeing him smile brightly at Nobara and Yuji after you all completed your mission. When you called for him, the rare glow in his eyes immediately gloomed back into that dull look the moment he turned. You don't think you've ever seen him that happy with you. high at sunrise

You knocked once, then twice on his door.

Stay

"Megumi." No answer. "Megumi I know you're in there, I saw you come in."

That got him to open the door.

Stay or just leave

The cold glare you became so used to came into view

"What is it?" At least try to sound even a little interested.

"I don't think we should be together anymore."

Stay or just leave me be

"What?" His eyes widened and his lips parted a bit in shock, was it bad if you thought that was the most reactive he'd ever been with you?

With that you turned and walked back down the hallway.

"No no no no no- hey wait!"

His fingers tightened around your wrist, but this you pulled away. Finally slipping through his fingers just like you knew it would happen one day.

His eyes stayed locked onto your shadowy figure until it blended with the shadows from the wall.

Stay or just leave me be

Way to go Fushiguro.

Nightmares feel like this, he knows because he's had them before. Except this is real.

Was this how you felt whenever he pulled away?

He'll give you some time, then he'll make it up to you. Then it'll all be okay, right?

Hah, Megumi thinks

He really couldn't just leave you be.

[in-enha-world]

Favorite wife

Pairing : emperor sunghoon x empress wife reader Genre : fluff, arranged mariage, mean concubines, jealousy, sunghoon realizes he loves his wife (idiot) Synopsis : As emperor, Sunghoon took a wife and concubines. However, when jealousy made his wife bitter, he changed wives, preferring to repudiate her rather than his concubines. Then, when his third wife, Y/N, stirred up the palace with her calm and gentle authority, Sunghoon quickly realized that he loved his wife (big idiot).

If there was one emperor that no one wanted to be part of his life, it was Emperor Sunghoon. Yes, he ruled his kingdom with an iron fist and offered his people security and harvests, but he tended to have too great an appetite for women.

He was handsome, that was certain, no one could deny it. And his council had pressured him to take concubines in addition to a wife to conceive an heir as quickly as possible and secure his lineage. It wasn't something that bothered him, so he took a wife and concubines to live at court.

However, it always degenerated and ended badly. His wife couldn't stand him spending so much time in his concubines' chambers and would end up throwing a fit, jealous and bitter towards the concubines. Sunghoon couldn't stand the shouting and would end up dismissing his wife or worse…

So yeah, no one wanted to get too close to the emperor's private life, especially since after six years, no heir was yet in sight. After two wives, Sunghoon decided to take a third, making Y/N, the eldest daughter of the great Y/L/N family, his wife. When the announcement was made, her mother had long wept over her daughter's departure, not wanting to see her married to the man, but protesting would do nothing.

Y/N hadn't flinched and had bid farewell to her family before climbing into the carriage that took her directly to the royal palace. Servants immediately took her to her private quarters in the East Wing, preparing her for the ceremony.

Dressed in her long red robe, the young woman didn't look up at her husband until the priest asked them to exchange their vows before pronouncing them husband and wife. She had to admit, Sunghoon was a very attractive man, and she could fall for him. But she won't.

The emperor gazed at her, appreciating the woman before him. Sunghoon gently took her hand in his and placed a kiss on it, Y/N gave a small curtsy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the concubines whispering among themselves, betting on how long she would last against them.

"I will await you in my quarters, husband," Y/N declared, looking Sunghoon straight in the eye and speaking loudly enough for all to hear. "Come or not, I don't care." Sunghoon's eyes widened, not expecting such an affront. His wife bowed to greet him, then turned away, her ladies-in-waiting bowed awkwardly before trotting after her.

Arriving in her room, Y/N immediately removed the hairpins that were pulling her hair, placing them on small velvet cushions. Her ladies-in-waiting exchanged glances, not used to the calm of the emperor's wives. "Empress…"

"Have my suitcases arrived ?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, Empress."

"Can you put my things away ?" she asked, looking at two women. "Lay out my robes by color and put my books in the library, please." They nodded and quickly got to work while the other two helped her remove her robe. "I'd like to take a bath. I haven't been able to wash after that long journey, I had to go straight to my wedding."

"I'll heat some water right away, Empress."

"Take your time, I'm in no hurry." In her silk robe, the new empress stretched out on a sofa, her legs delicately folded, a book in her hand. Her attendants worked in silence, throwing her sideways glances. Her bath finally ready, Y/N removed her robe and entered the tub, immersing herself in the water.

The hot water relaxed her, and she closed her eyes, resting her head against the edge of the basin. She could feel her ladies-in-waiting's stares and sighed. "Speak, I can feel your stares from across the room."

They stepped forward cautiously, as if expecting a fit of nerves instead of calm. "Your predecessors met unfortunate fates, Empress."

"Yes, I heard that. Except I'm not here to play lovey-dovey with Sunghoon. I only want to live, and above all, survive the three hags who serve as his concubines. If they're expecting fits of jealousy, shouting, and tears, they'll soon realize that the only circus here is them."

The ladies-in-waiting visibly relaxed, sporting timid smiles. "We are happy to hear that, Empress. I am Hina. And this is Jiya, Suha, and Sunwoo."

"There's no need to call me 'Empress' when we're alone, Lady Y/N will suffice."

"Alright, Lady." Y/N got out of the tub and grabbed the towel handed to her to wrap herself in. She dried off and put on her nightgown.

"You may retire, I'll manage until tomorrow morning." The women bowed and left the room, the door closing softly behind her. Y/N sighed, finally enjoying the silence of her own company.

She slipped under the sheets and opened her book, reading a few pages by candlelight. She didn't expect Sunghoon to join her for their wedding night and therefore wasn't disappointed not to see him arrive. Y/N placed her book on the nightstand and blew out the candle to extinguish it. Tomorrow is another day.

Y/N didn't avoid Sunghoon, at least, she didn't try to. She simply didn't care where he might be or with whom, so her daily life was quite peaceful. Everyone at the palace expected the new empress to be as jealous as the other two, but seeing her lack of reaction and her calm disconcerted them all. But a little peace at the palace was also welcome.

Y/N was actually closer to the palace staff than to her own husband. It wasn't unusual for her to stop by the kitchen to greet the cooks or to stroll through the gardens talking to the gardeners. She was well-liked at the palace.

The young woman also fulfilled her role as empress by attending all of her husband's councils with the advisors and ministers, even if it meant sitting for hours listening to them talk about uninteresting things.

Y/N was sitting on her throne next to Sunghoon's, upright with her legs elegantly folded. Her dark red robe draped over her curves like a delicious caress, her fingers tapping the armrests of her throne to distract herself.

"If winter arrives before we can bring enough resources to the capital, we'll have to tighten our belts until spring returns !" a minister declared, once again raising the issue of winter provisions. She rolled her eyes, having heard this dozens of times since her arrival at the palace without any solution being proposed. "You know very well that merchants can only reach the capital through the mountains in winter, but the snow makes the crossing too difficult !"

She scoffed, exasperated by all these words said for nothing. To her right, Sunghoon glanced at her, contemplating her bored face. "Something to say, wife ?"

Silence fell over the throne room. Gazes slowly turned to Y/N, who wasn't surprised by her husband's call, looking at him without blinking. "Your ministers are useless, husband."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his mouth curving upward. "Excuse me ?"

She ignored him and rose from her throne, descending the steps to approach the table around which the ministers and advisors stood, maps and parchments covering it. Y/N fixed her gaze on the minister who had first stated the problem. "This is the fifth council I've attended, and you keep repeating this provision problem over and over. You keep complaining without ever proposing solutions."

"Empress, I…"

"Did I say you could talk ?" The man closed his mouth without a word. "It's all well and good to talk, but if no action is ever taken, we might as well dissolve this council right now. The problem isn't knowing whether we can transport enough food for the winter here, but how to ensure we can still have some even when snow makes the mountain crossing impossible. It's not that the merchants don't want to cross it, it's that they don't have time to do it in one day and are afraid of getting stuck in the mountains. You want a solution ? Here's one. You have four months before the first snows arrive, use the remaining funds from the last taxes to build several shelter chalets and inns in the mountains to accommodate the merchants. Thus, they can make the crossing without fear of freezing to death or their mounts breaking their legs. It doesn't matter if they take an extra week as long as we have the provisions in the end. You complain about all the problems you have to solve without ever considering the origin first."

Y/N turned to Sunghoon, who was watching her with a smirk, and placed a hand on her hip.

"So yes, I think your ministers shouldn't be ministers if they can't use their brains, unless the origin of the problem here is that they don't have any at all."

She turned on her heel, having heard enough for the whole day, and left the throne room, her personal guards on her heels. She wasn't going to put her ladies-in-waiting through those long useless hours. "God, these ministers are all incompetent !" Her ladies-in-waiting rose at her arrival, bowing.

"Lady, would you like some tea ?" Jiya suggested.

"Yes, good idea." The woman busied herself preparing tea while Y/N settled onto the sofa.

"You should stop attending councils if they put you in this state, Lady."

"And have people say behind my back that I'm not doing what's expected of me ? No way. I was just hoping that Sunghoon surrounded himself with smarter people." Y/N took the cup of tea Jiya handed her and took a long sip of the fruity liquid that relaxed her. She finished her drink in no time, then stood up. "Let's take a walk in the gardens, Ladies. Let's enjoy the sun."

She linked her arm with Suha's and emerged from the room. Walking through the palace, the women entered the gardens, the bushes perfectly trimmed and the flowers aligned. It was definitely Y/N's favorite place in the palace. It was always peaceful and problem-free.

"Well, well, well." Y/N turned and stifled a sigh as she saw the concubines coming toward them, waving their fans.

"If it isn't our great Empress taking a stroll in the gardens." They giggled, and Y/N stared at them wearily.

"If you had learned good manners like ladies, you would know that you should bow before your Empress," she said, turning her gaze toward the roses.

"You little…" The first concubine was held back by another. "You won't last here ! We are the emperor's true companions ! All these women they marry meet the same fate ! Death or exile !"

Y/N chuckled, her fingers tracing the flower petals. "How cute that you think you'll live here forever. You, low-born girls who only serve as cock warmers for my husband."

"At least we can enjoy his presence ! Unlike you, who have never shared his bed !"

"What's going on here ? We could hear you screaming from the other end of the garden." All the women turned to see Sunghoon and his Lord friends joining them, their hands clasped behind their backs. Immediately, the concubines took their victim stance and threw themselves at the emperor to complain.

"My love ! The Empress insulted us !"

"Yes, she called us low-born girls ! Even though we are royal concubines !"

Sunghoon looked up at his wife, who didn't care what the concubines could complain about, preferring to focus her attention on the flowers, which were decidedly more interesting. "The roses are magnificent at this time of year," she said to her ladies-in-waiting. "We must enjoy them before winter makes them fall."

"Yes, Empress," Suha smiled. "Let us ask the gardeners to make several bouquets for your apartments." Y/N smiled tenderly at the youngest of her servants, caressing her cheek.

The Emperor couldn't take his eyes off her, having never seen a smile light up her face since their marriage, at least not in his presence. And her gaze turned cold again when Y/N looked at him.

"Husband, you'd better put leashes on your dogs. Regardless of the deplorable taste you have in women you want to sleep with, I would appreciate it if you would train them. Bowing in the presence of the Empress and speaking only when invited is a golden rule at court."

"See, she's insulting us !" But Sunghoon was far from listening to their lamentations.

"If you think I'm jealous, think again and don't dream. I only expect the respect I deserve in this palace. They may be your concubines, but they are only whores you chose for a little fun."

Y/N fixed her gaze on the concubines and smirked. "And these little mice would do well to remember that I am the only daughter of the greatest house after the royal family, and if something serious were to happen to me, my father, the General, would be happy to hunt down those responsible." The women swallowed.

The Empress inclined her head. "Husband. My Lords." She rolled her eyes at the concubines. "Whores."

Her ladies-in-waiting giggled as they walked away beside her, Y/N sporting a satisfied smirk. Sunghoon followed her with his eyes until they disappeared into the palace, and his concubines rushed at him. "My love ! Do something !"

"Punish her ! Have her whipped so she learns her lesson !"

Sunghoon snapped out of his contemplation and turned his gaze to her, scoffed, and pushed them away with his arm. "I have better things to do than start conflicts with my wife. Go complain to whoever will listen and don't bother me."

He walked away with his Lords, the concubines fuming because they had never been treated like this. And the Empress would pay for it.

The following days were very strange. Even though Y/N and Sunghoon still weren't speaking to each other, he was more observant of his wife and discovered her in a new light. He had learned more about her, what she liked and what she hated, and found that she might not be so bad after all.

Y/N stared at Sunwoo when her lady-in-waiting returned carrying a cat in her arms. The white-furred animal looked around the room curiously. "What is that ?"

"It's a gift from the Emperor, Lady. He gave you this cat to entertain you, hoping you wouldn't be too bored."

"Sunghoon gave me this cat ?"

"Lady, it's so romantic," Hina cooed, looking up from her embroidery. "The Emperor has never given any gifts to his previous wives ! Perhaps he's beginning to like you !"

"Don't be ridiculous, Hina." Y/N took the cat from the woman's arms and stroked its head. The cat began to purr, and she found herself smiling. "I suppose I can accept this gift. But don't tell him."

Her servants giggled but nodded. Y/N named him Snowflake, and he definitely loved his new mistress, spending hours lying across her lap or on her bed. It wasn't uncommon to see the cat follow the Empress through the palace as if he were her bodyguard.

Y/N was returning from the library, carrying Snowflake in her arms, when a small body collided with her. She looked down to see a little boy who had fallen on his bottom and leaned down to help him up. "Sorry, E-Empress," he stammered, missing one of his front teeth. "I didn't mean to…"

"Don't worry, it's alright. Are you lost ?"

"Y-Yes. I'm looking for my mom, she works at the palace."

"I'll help you find her. What's her name ?"

"Sun-nia."

"She's one of the cooks, if I'm not mistaken. Your mom makes the best cakes I've ever eaten." The boy nodded, knowing his mother's talent for baking.

"Dear wife."

The young woman turned to find Sunghoon in front of her, flanked by two guards. "Husband." The boy hid behind her when he saw the terrifying emperor.

"Who is this ?"

"The son of one of the cooks. He got lost looking for his mother, so I was going to walk him there." Y/N patted the boy's head, he moved away from her. "Come on. Don't worry, he's not going to eat you." The child quickly bowed before hiding behind her again, making her smile.

Something made Sunghoon's heart beat a little faster as he looked down at the cat in her arms. "I see you accepted my gift."

"Indeed. I thank you, I really like cats. Alright, I'll see you later if you wish."

He nodded, and Y/N took the boy's hand to lead him toward the kitchens, the emperor watched them leave. A child among them would be so nice, something he had wanted for a long time…

"Seon-jun." One of the guards stepped forward. "Have my quarters moved to the East Wing where my wife is, not to the West Wing of the concubines. Let them have only guest privileges, not those of the royal family."

"Yes, Emperor." The soldiers exchanged relieved looks. The emperor was finally coming to his senses, they couldn't take those mistresses anymore.

Y/N was sleeping peacefully, Snowflake curled up at her feet, when she felt the blanket being pulled back and a body slipping into her bed. Her fingers closed around the handle of the knife she hides under her pillow, and she turned to press the blade against the person's throat.

"Jesus Christ, woman ! It's me !" Sunghoon whispered. She sighed and lowered her knife, putting it back in its safe place. "Why do you have a weapon under your pillow ?"

"You never know who might slip into my bed in the middle of the night," she mocked, giving him a weary look over her shoulder. "Like you, husband." She pulled the blanket over herself to go back to sleep, closing her eyes. "Why are you here, anyway ?"

"I settled into the adjacent room. I'm your new neighbor."

"I don't want you as a neighbor."

"Why ?"

"I don't want to hear you snore."

"I don't snore," Sunghoon defended himself.

"Yeah, right." Y/N gave Snowflake a stroke as he came to lie down beside her, giving her husband a threatening look. It made him smile as she kissed the top of his head, resting her head on her pillow.

Sleep soon overcame her again, while Sunghoon remained wide awake, watching her back, her chest rising and falling at the regular rhythm of her breathing. He couldn't fall asleep, his mind was racing in all directions, preventing him from finding rest.

The young woman woke up a few hours later, thirsty, getting out of bed to approach the table where the carafe rested. She filled herself a glass of water, bringing it to her lips and emptying it. She walked toward the window to observe the landscape bathed in moonlight.

Stifling a yawn, Y/N closed the curtain and turned toward the bed, startled to find Sunghoon watching her. "You scared me ! Did I wake you ?"

"No, I wasn't sleeping." She frowned, turning back to lie down and pulling the duvet over herself.

"Why ?"

"I have insomnia. And I can't stop thinking."

"That's bad." She lay back down, breathing deeply as her body relaxed. The young woman froze when she felt Sunghoon's body press against hers and his arm wrap around her waist.

"Is this okay ?" he asked.

"Yes." Happy with her answer, Sunghoon pressed his chest to her back, nestling his face in the crook of her neck. His eyes closed, he was finally feeling sleep overtake him when he heard her voice.

"Sunghoon ?"

Say my name again…

"Mmm ?"

"If you intend to play the husband at night when no one is watching, you can go fuck yourself. I will not be the secretly loved wife. And I certainly will not be another woman you repudiate. Do you want me ? Then show it to everyone. Do you want to sleep in my bed ? Fine, but don't go warming others' anymore. Be my husband, and I'll be the wife at your side."

"You would be the Empress at my side, and I would be your husband." Satisfied, Y/N nodded and let herself be lulled by his warmth to fall back asleep. Sunghoon listened to her breathing, his fingers tracing small circles on her waist, and her presence granting him the comfort he had so hoped for.

The change didn't happen overnight, but gradually, the servants and guards began to notice the Emperor's attentions toward his wife. Asking for her favorite pastries to be served during long councils or sending her herbal tea in the evening. He joined her more regularly at meals and was often caught watching her.

Of course, Y/N was satisfied to see that Sunghoon kept his promise, and if he continued like this, she would be ready to give him a chance. After all, she wanted to have a pleasant life with her husband if that was also what he desired.

The biggest shock was that Sunghoon hadn't visited his concubines' chambers for several weeks, which had never happened before. And the women were outraged to see that the Emperor had succumbed to his wife and no longer paid them any attention.

Sunghoon was coming out of his office accompanied by Lords Jay and Jake when his concubines approached him, dressed lightly enough to seduce him. "Hello, my love."

"Hi, Lords, we hope we're not bothering you." The young man nodded slightly to invite them to speak, which gave them courage.

"Why wouldn't you come to our chambers tonight ? You've had so much to do lately, we could help you relax."

He looked at them without a word. Before, he would have accepted without hesitation, seeking the pleasure that would ease his thoughts, but now, only the image of his wife came to mind.

"Thank you, but I will spend the night with my wife. Find yourselves lovers if you need someone."

They blushed with anger as they walked away, throwing a fit. Jake elbowed his friend, who turned his head toward him. "So, it seems your little wife pleases you."

"She is my wife, of course she pleases me," Sunghoon said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but you killed the others," Jay mocked.

"Stop it with that ! Those are just rumors ! I never killed anyone, and you know it, I just sent them back to their families with a large compensation. I'm sure it was Heeseung hyung who started those rumors."

"He's capable of it," Jake chuckled. "But what's different about her ?"

Sunghoon turned his gaze to the gardens, where Y/N was sitting on a bench, Snowflake on her lap, reading a book. The sun's rays reflected off her loose hair, and his eyes were drawn to her lips as she ran her tongue over them.

"Wow, we've lost him," Jay laughed. "God help us." The Emperor snapped out of his contemplation and bumped into them, muttering, as they snickered.

Y/N wasn't surprised to see Sunghoon join her at nightfall, which he now did every day. He slipped under the sheets, burying his face in the pillow. She gave him an amused glance. "Hard day, husband ?"

His voice was muffled by the pillow as he nodded. She set her book down on the nightstand before kneeling on the mattress, taking advantage of his bare chest to slide her hands along his back, massaging his tense muscles up to his shoulders.

Sunghoon groaned as he felt his muscles relax under her massage, the sensation of her fingers massaging his skin sent shivers down his spine. He turned his head to the side, his arms crossed under his chin. "This is divine, wife."

"I'm glad to hear it."

He rolled onto his back and pulled her into his arms, Y/N sprawled across his chest. Her cheek pressed against his chest over his heart, she could hear it beating fast. Sunghoon nestled his face in her hair, closing his eyes. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

"You kept your promise, you deserve it." He smiled and kissed her forehead.

Y/N soon fell asleep, Sunghoon didn't really sleep, only dozing due to his insomnia. His wife's presence beside him relaxed him, although sleep took a while to find him. That's why he heard the bedroom door open and the first floorboard creak.

He frowned, his eyes opening in the darkness to see two silhouettes slipping through the shadows. Without a sound, he slid his hand under Y/N's pillow to grab the knife she kept there.

He waited for the intruders to advance far enough, their shadows projected onto the bed, before pouncing. He crashed to the floor with one of the men, the sudden movement pulled Y/N from her sleep. She saw Sunghoon fighting on the ground with one of the intruders, the second one aiming for her.

The young woman jumped to her feet, grabbing one of the swords that served as decoration below the headboard but was just as deadly. She parried the man's blade, he grabbed her ankle and pulled her toward him. She stumbled out of bed, and they both staggered on the floor.

Her sword slipped from her grip in her fall, allowing the man to pin her to the ground, his hands closing around her throat. Y/N grabbed his wrists to try to force him to let go, in vain. Sunghoon saw his wife in a bad position, seeing red.

"Don't fucking touch my wife !"

He plunged the dagger into the side of the one attacking him before throwing himself at his wife's assailant, knocking him out with an uppercut, as the guards rushed into the room due to the commotion.

"Y/N !" He rushed to her, lifting her in his arms to set her on the bed. His gaze hardened when he saw the finger marks around her throat as she coughed, struggling to catch her breath. "You alright, baby ?"

She nodded, bringing the glass of water he handed her to her lips. The Emperor turned to the soldiers who had arrested the two intruders, clenching his fists when he saw their armor, confirming they worked at the palace. "Who gave you the order ? Was I the target of this assassination attempt ?"

They didn't answer, and Sunghoon grabbed one by the collar, lifting him off the ground. "Answer me ! And perhaps I will be lenient !"

"We were supposed to kill the Empress…"

"Why ? Under whose orders ?!" Sunghoon released the man after getting his answer, fixing his gaze on his wife.

He approached the bed and took her face in his hands to place a kiss on her forehead. "No one will hurt you again, I promise you." He turned to the soldiers. "Take these two to the dungeons, let them await their sentence."

The guards nodded and left the room. Sunghoon lay back down beside Y/N, holding her in his arms. Neither of them managed to find sleep until sunrise, remaining in each other's arms.

The Emperor called an emergency council to discuss the night's attack, the strangulation marks were still fresh on Y/N's neck despite the makeup applied by her ladies-in-waiting.

The couple sat on their thrones, the advisors and ministers facing them. "Did they talk ? Did you manage to get them to confess the culprit ?"

"Yes, it wasn't difficult. They will be executed at sunset, along with the instigators of this attack."

"Who are they ?" Sunghoon waved his hand, and soldiers returned with his three concubines in chains.

"Using your favors to manipulate soldiers and order them to kill the Empress was not clever," the young man declared. "They will be killed with the two soldiers tonight."

"You can't kill us ! You don't have the right !"

"Silence !" Sunghoon thundered, slamming his fist on the armrest of his throne. "When you attack my wife, your Empress, you must expect consequences ! This is treason !"

"How can you prefer her to us ?! She is useless !"

Sunghoon fumed, Y/N placed her hand on his arm to urge him to keep his calm. "In fact, their complaints annoy me. Take them to the courtyard and execute them now."

The women begged, cried, and screamed for mercy, but Sunghoon only turned his eyes to his wife. Y/N smiled at him, approving his decision, and he squeezed her hand in his, promising himself that no one would ever lay their hands on her again.

Except him, of course. Because she was his favorite wife. Only his.

Masterlist

Taglist : @sabyy @kyunlov @grandlightcandy @kristynaaah @li-know @maknaehyucks @cr4zyf4ngirl777 @blue-skyyy25 @maewybakes @lezleeferguson-120 @addictedtohobi @rawrrxan @fuckthinking @heeseunglover73 @spideysenses1u @vtyb23 @nosugrefer-021 @engenehazy @bvbblyjasmine @alondra6011 @negin7 @neodreamzenie @laikaonline @mbioooo0000 @jakeyismine @psyches-reid @foreveronez @keylawnduh @lisie-loves-u @nct-sticker-127 @wonmura @hannalovesenhypen @skyearby @missoxy @caravm @l3afsh33p @iilimaria000 @mellowcakes04 @wheezyev @ravenslocked @judy410 @seungiesdoll @blengene @hwalllllllelujah @hooneyaddicted @acute4ngel @whyiskpoptakingovermylife @weebofakind @lyrarinn @1-itsneverthatserious-1 Can be added in comment

[luvforlifee]

•ू Order: one sided hate towards nerd!jo ⋆ . ࿔ ˚

🧾: a passing comment made under gojos breath two years ago is exactly what costs him his chance with you. it completely slipped his mind, but not yours. never yours. your ability to hold a grudge exceeded his expectations and he has to work extra hard to get that second chance. while also pining after you.

•ू nerd!jo x fem!reader ┆ shy, needy gojo ┆ university au ┆ women in stem ┆ his pretty face is hard to ignore ⋆ . ࿔ ˚

you were always an overachiever. All throughout your life in all areas of your life. Academics, friendships, work. 

That is how you ended up in the honors program of your university as a freshman. this meant you got a lot more hands-on work as an applied physics major. smaller classrooms, closer relationships with classmates and professors, better labs.

it was a prestigious opportunity, especially for a female student in a stem field. 

therefore, being an honors student, it gave you a certain pep in your step. even if it made you miss more hours of sleep than healthy to sustain life. 

doesnt matter. that glossy 98.7% in a class with a 64% pass rate made it all worth it. 

but being mostly isolated by the program made making friends at uni a bit difficult, so you tried your best to be open to any friendships that can come out of the program. 

you were always nice, polite, let people take the seat you wanted, completed extra work on projects. 

basically a doormat. 

you did not want to be, obviously. you knew your mistake in acting the way you did, but it was also simply in your nature to try a little hard and appease everyone. 

so it was no surprise when sophomore year, in the intermediate mechanics lecture you took alongside other honors students and got seated next to a tall, white haired boy, you tried your best to be as polite as possible.

it had nothing to do with you finding him cute. you were simply nice to everyone. 

but that white haired know-it-all creature soon became an annoyance to you. he made you clench your teeth so hard you were sure you’d have to befriend a dental student soon for some discounts. 

though sweet, you always had a competitive streak. so, someone pointing out your mistakes? painting you as plainly dumb? enlarging your imposter syndrome with every dismissal? definitely chipped away at your ego.

and satoru gojo did all of that. 

if the two of you were solving a round of problems or working on the same assignment, you always tried to finish before him. but his focus was impossible to break or compete against. somehow, his computer was always shut before yours, paper turned in right under yours in the stack. 

any time you offered help, your desk mate would stare at you as if dumbfounded on why you would offer such tomfoolery to him, and then dismiss you with a wave of his hand. degrading, to say the least.

one time, at the end of class, you raised your hand to ask a question on a particularly hard section, to which gojo simply muttered under his breath ‘how can someone not know this?’ as if intermediate mechanics were taught to everyone in kindergarten. 

it has already been a particularly hard week for you and that simple mutter, that one remark on your intellect. it broke you. the professors response, surely helpful, went in one ear and out of the other. the only thing filling your brain was static. 

you did not like to think of yourself as overly emotional. but the constant pressure of feeling excluded, like you did not belong in the field you loved, didnt deserve the opportunity you had, had finally broke you. 

hot tears of embarrassment had filled your eyes which you lowered as you quickly packed your bag, hair shielding the pitiful view. you did not even dare to take a breath in case you sniffled and that gained attention.

you simply rose quietly and decided from that day on that satoru gojo is your rival, that you simply hated him. he’s a jerk, a nerd, an annoyance, probably a virgin. you threw any and every insult at his imaginary face. imagining them hitting him like a pound of bricks.

you hoped he felt your hatred every time you ignored him, left a room if he was there, moved tables in the library if he was too close. you wish his blood boiled at it as much as yours did.

gojo on the other hand really did not know what your issue was. 

he noticed, of course, some weird behavior. but he was too busy with his own things to worry about some girl from his honors program and whatever illness made her move at least 15 feet away from him. 

maybe she had albinophobia, is all gojo thought and completely dismissed the thought of you afterwards. 

—

junior year you had the luck of meeting the best friends ever. something in your life shifted.

your confidence sky rocketed, you proven to yourself that you deserve to be exactly where you are, you were no longer a ‘doormat’ as previously worded. and gojo? he still held a special, dark, spiky place in your heart of hatred. 

you liked to act as if it was a joke with your friends, but to you, it was very much real. you still very much despised the white haired geek. 

but he wasn’t the focal point of your life. and that is when things began to shift. for both you and gojo. 

you had no lectures with gojo junior year. but he noticed you regardless. 

the way you asked and answered questions without any shame, the way you presented yourself, laughed a little too loud and drew everyones eyes your way. he was not strong enough to resist your charm. 

to be completely honest, he always found you kind of cute. but your kindness at first seemed fake to his very insecure sophomore self. as if you were pitying him by trying to be his friend. he couldnt help but push you away. 

half the time, gojo did not even realize you could hear what he muttered. or he thought you simply wouldn’t really care what he had to say. you were pretty and nice — so what did it matter what he whispered to himself? you would still get ahead in life. 

but the trajectory of his life changed as well. he was never all that confident, even when he pretended to be as a self preservation tactic. but multiple times he has gotten his ego checked which resulted in him being a much more humble young man. much more respectful as well. 

in reality, gojo has forgotten the incident all together. which resulted in his enormous crush on you. all of junior year, even though the two of you shared not a single class, he has grown more and more fonder.

you never paid any attention to him, never noticed him much. he wasn’t loud, he didnt draw attention to himself like you did. and maybe that was for the better. 

multiple times while walking the court yard gojo found his eyes snapping over at you. he couldnt help it. you laughed as you ate lunch with your friends, your laugh piercing through his headphones like the first rays of sunlight through half closed blinds. he’d hyper focus on the way you threw your head back, or how your hair fanned out. it wasn’t healthy, he knew. but he craved to admire you, to dream about you, to notice very little thing.

multiples times you were part of a study group that sat right besides gojos in the library. what a coincidence! he definitely didnt propose the idea that all study groups from the honors program shoud sit together, in case they needed each others help. not him. never. 

while pretending to work, he would instead drown in your voice as you went on and on, explaining to someone else your notes and labs from your quantum mechanics lecture. probably some other guy. but simply hearing you talk was enough for him to plunge into his daydreams and later to disturb his sleep as he imagined that voice in his ear. 

gojos best friend, suguru geto, could have sworn satoru’s eyes turned heart shaped when you were within 10 feet of him. 

geto tried to get gojo to approach you. but what was the use? you both were obviously busy enough, you had your friend group around you always so gojo could never catch you one on one. and he was far too award to talk to you in a group of people he did not know. and you had no lectures together, so no forced proximity. 

satoru decided that his quiet pining, the one that would not lead him anywhere but his own madness if he keeps thinking about you, was enough for him. he convinced himself that watching you from afar, enveloping himself in your voice would keep him satisfied. he was happy.

even though some (most) would say he was pathetic. 

— 

beginning of 4th year, your last one. 

you were on your way to your last first lecture of the new semester. excitement bubbling up inside you. 

it seemed you got this way now. instead of anxiety, you felt excitement at the thought of a new lecture, new people, group projects. 

you walked into the lecture hall which would be hosting your statistical mechanics lecture. it wasn’t as big as those most students are used to. the honors program sometimes used smaller classrooms and auditoriums to host their lectures due to the small number of students taking the particular course. 

you recognized a couple of familiar faces from previous years. 

lucky for you, among the familiar faces, was your best friend. she removed her bag from a chair as you approached. 

“awe you saved me a seat?” you said in an overly sweet, joking tone, “why thank-”

“dont turn around.” your friend sayid suddenly, quietly. 

“what?” obviously, you whip your head around. it is only natural to look behind you when someone tells you not to. 

and lo and behold, your face drops. 

the white spikey hair, the blinding blue eyes framed by skinny glasses, long lanky legs stretching from under the desk. all about him irked you. deep within your body you felt the heat of annoyance, building up, rising. 

you turned back around with feigned calmness. “what? i dont care.” you plopped down into the chair. 

“you care.”

“pfft. no.”

“pfft. yes.” your friend rolled her eyes, mocking you. “last time you ‘didnt care’ we left a cafe because he walked in and then you spent three hours retelling me why you hated him.”

“please. i would never waste three hours on that moron.” you were unpacking your things, getting ready for the lecture.

unamused, your friend sighed, following suit. she decided not to argue with you further, knowing it would only turn into a rant about how you dont care and you would never waste your time and that in fact he should be the one to care and be ashamed of his behavior and he should be the one beginning for your forgiveness and him him him…. yeah. 

you had this lecture three a week because of its densely packed material and the need to cover a lot of ground not only during lectures but labs as well. 

you were prepared for it to be filled with group work, you heard from previous students and checked ratemyprofessor which all pointed to one thing. the final grade depends on all the work you and your partner do.

but what have you got to be worried about? you had your closest friend in the class and a bunch of familiar faces. there was no chance that even if you were to get paired up with someone, it would be someone you couldn’t connect with. and it definitely would not be someone dumb, since it was the honors program. 

and that is exactly how you got humbled. by getting paired with gojo. 

you settle at the desk next to his, awkwardly dropping your bag by your feet and not looking at him. your posture rigid as you prepare for the first partner assignment of the semester. your friend threw you an ‘oh shit’ glance. she knew she will hear about this until the end of time. 

gojo on the other hand couldnt believe his luck. in his head, he was thanking every god he has prayed to for this. 

his eyes practically lit up when you finally settle down next to him in that cute outfit. he truly does not know how you have time to study to get some of the best marks at the program and and on top of that look so beautiful. 

he could barely get a good look at you though. throughout the entire lesson you were turning away, shifting your body at a crazy angle just to be further, shielding yourself with your hair. 

somehow it did not click to him that it was all from him. 

that night, when gojo returned to his apartment he shared with geto, small and a bit messy from the two geeks, he excited threw his bag on the floor, yelling out for his best friend. 

“whats the commotion about?” the tired voice followed the statue that peeked from the kitchen, long black hair spilling from geto’s shoulder. 

“shes actually sitting next to me!” 

“that girl you never talked to?” geto laughed at his best friends misery. 

“that is going to change,” gojo pointed at him determinedly. 

geto shook his head and went back into the kitchen and gojo soon stumbled in, clumsy from his excitement. 

“no! you don’t get to give me that look! i waited a whole year for this. and now i have the perfect opportunity.” the way gojo was speaking could be described as squealing. 

“you didnt have to wait.” pointed out geto. 

“you know nothing about the strategic ways of capturing a woman’s heart.” 

“and you know nothing about women. period.” 

that got gojo sulking. geto wasn’t exactly wrong. gojo had crushes before, of course. but none of them gotten him as excited as his nerdy interests or a good grade. no one has quite held his attention as long as you did.

a part of him cringed at himself for acting the way he did. but he felt truly entrapped by you. if you were within ten feet, if he could hear you, if he could see you — his entire attention shifted to you. no matter what.

and now he had a reason to:

1. get your phone number. youre partners right? how else are you two supposed to communicate about projects? perfect. 

2. to talk to you. so what if he will try to swing the conversation away from the class once or twice. he simply wants to get to know his project partner better!

3. to go out with you. sure, it might just be to the library or the local campus cafe. but! it was still seeing you out of class!

a win is a win in gojos book, no matter how small. he could work with it, build up from there. 

— 

gojo spotted you sitting there already when he walked into the lecture hall. your hair framing your face in the prettiest way ever. those eyes that have yet to spot him are soft, gliding over the notes from the previous class as you fidgeted with a pen in between your delicate fingers. 

but as soon as you lifted your head and saw him approaching the softness vanished from your eyes. the sharpness of your gaze was so sudden that it made the white haired on his neck stand up and the nerd trip over his shoes. 

gojo caught himself against the desk, his pale skin flushing from the sheer stupidity of what just happened. why couldnt he just walk towards you like a normal person! he just got so startled by the way your face changed. the flowers blooming around you and birds chirping just a moment ego turned into thorns and corpses falling from the sky, right before his eyes. 

but he didnt let that deter him. never.

he sat down in the chair, sliding his bag down his shoulder. gojo turned toward you slightly, hands running down his gray hoodie, a blue button-up peeking from the bottom. “hi,” he said lowly, smiling over at you. 

you turned your head the other way, leaning your cheek on the palm of your hand. 

oh. 

well, he couldnt expect you to be open and friendly right from the beginning. it has been a while since the two of you talked. so it makes sense you might be a bit cold towards him. that was no problem for gojo. 

he will just have to advance little by little. 

you had a nagging feeling of someone staring at you. and you already felt yourself brewing with annoyance. you shoved your things into your bag, a bit carelessly but quickly. your friend already stood outside, waiting for you to head over for lunch. the heat on the back of your head was unbearable. he should really shove those eyes up his-

“y/n?”

you ignored him. and for someone so smart, he still, for some reason, took it as a go ahead. 

“i.. uhm,” he scratched the back of his neck, glasses sliding down his nose. “well i thought we should exchange numbers. for the uh-“ gojo’s eyes widened, face flushing as you suddenly straightened up and turned to look at him. once again catching him by surprise and making his voice crack. “-project.” came out way too high-pitched. 

“no.”

“grea-oh?” he blinked at you. dumbfounded. but it was for the project! okay… maybe you didnt feel comfortable giving your number out to strangers. but he had to convince you somehow. “but the project?”

“we’ll talk in class.”

“but there’s more work to be done outside of class.”

“then we will discuss that too. during class.”

“but we- we dont get that much time during class.” gojo doubled down “maybe your email?”

“no.”

this was beginning to drive him insane, his ears turning read from frustration. 

“then how can i contact you?” which came out a little too petulant for the 6’2 boy standing in front of you. 

you shrugged nonchalantly, sliding your bag over your shoulder. “send me a carrier pigeon.”

your heels quickly picked up pace as you joined your friend in the hallway, hurrying away from the awkward interaction without giving gojo a chance to try again.

gojo watched you disappear around the corner, fixing his glasses with a back of his hand. sigh, well that did not go very well for him. sliding his bag over his head, wearing it cross body, he stalked out of the hall. gojo chewed at his bottom lip, deep in thought. you were snappy, and maybe he thought it was a bit uncalled for, he was not being completely outrageous. he was more confused on what made you react to him specifically that way. 

you on the other hand did not think your snappy responses were uncalled for whatsoever. however, you spared your best friend, deciding this interaction was not worth the time you wanted to waste talking about it. you will just let it brew quietly beneath your skin. what a safe coping mechanism!

— 

gojo tried to talk to you in class for the next following weeks. how was your day? fine. and no question back. anything fun this weekend? no. any plans? no. 

it drove him a little insane. he was truly trying his best to build a connection, something to go off of. maybe a hobby you would let slip, something you enjoyed doing that he could share his extensive knowledge on. but nothing. you replied as curtly as a soldier. 

every night after the lectures he would pace around the living room, hands tugging and running through his soft white hair, as geto cooked, listening to his best friends rant about yet another failed attempt at a simple conversation with you. 

“and she just says no!” he groans, flopping down on the couch. “she says no and her voice is still so sweet. now how is that even fair?” his face is buried in his hands.

“i dont even know how you have a crush on a girl that doesnt even seem to want to turn your way. that’s more surprising. your will to torture yourself is above all else.”

“its not torture,” satoru whined. “you haven’t seen her, and i dont mean just looks. shes a god damn genius, for one. shes so fucking confident and she just knows what shes doing and it drives me insane in the best way. i just… fuck” he exhales, exhausted. “i just want to be in her orbit. a safer, closer distance i can experience her coolness. you know?”

“youre like a sunflower with its sun. cant get too close and yet you keep turning towards it.”

“idiot sunflower.” gojo mutters, throwing an arm over his glistening blue eyes. 

“the stupidest.” suguru chimes just to annoy his friend. 

—

your stubbornness was costing your project to suffer a bit. it was true that only discussing it in class was slowing down the progress. 

so, out of absolute necessity — you valued your gpa more than wounding some boys pride — you gave in. 

“gojo?” you turned towards the geek. the room was painted in sunlight, streaking inside from the blinds.

gojo just blinked at you, eyes widened. you were speaking to him, and it didnt sound like you were about to snap at him for doing something wrong or tell him off. his heart stuttered stupidly in his chest. 

“y-yes?” 

“you can have my phone number.” 

at that, gojos eyes widened even further. all of the sudden, out of the blue, you decided he was worth those ten digits? he could text you now! could talk to you outside of class, though you are likely to block him if he does. but that doesnt matter, its progress!

“sure, yes. ill just- give me a second. my phone..” gojo tripped over his own words as they rushed out, tumbling out of his clumsy lips, long fingers fumbling with his phone. after a second of one of the most pathetic scenes you have ever seen, he finally hands you his phone, looking away as he feels a blush creep over his face and down his neck. 

you grab gojos phone without any particular enthusiasm and type in your phone number. you were about to hand it back before snatching it back out of his reach. “never call me.” you fix him with a glare that has gojo swallowing nervously and nodding like a devoted puppy. “and only text me about the project. that’s it. got it?”

“y-yes, yes. of course. only about the project. yes ma’am.” you gave him another long stare, as if you were evaluating if he was being honest. if you could trust him. gojo couldnt even focus on being scared of you for longer than a second because the sun spilled over your face, coloring your eyes in a vibrant shade, your hair with a golden glow. he was entranced. 

with a huff that broke the spell you finally handed him back his phone. “dont make me regret it, gojo.” 

that night, gojos apartment was exploding with cheerful yelling and celebrations. following by meticulous hours of planning the perfect text.

your apartment was flooded with regret and groans, an endless stream of complains. 

“hes just been absolutely unbearable. i tell him to do one thing. one! and he doesnt do it right.”

“huh. what a tool.” mutters your friend, already feeling the conversation starting to spiral towards your one and only. 

“and so i had to give him my phone number.” you paced. 

“you- sorry. what?” your friend looked up at you. this was supposed to be a stalemate. you were supposed to hold out. 

“if that block of wood knew how to do anything right, i wouldn’t have to! but we cant get anything done by not talking outside of class.”

“im sure he got your hints,” your friend waved her hand, “he wont text you for nothing.”

“maybe youre right,” you slowed down finally, taking a deep breath. “he cant be that dense-“

your phone pinged in your hand. speaking of the devil. you looked down to see a message from an unknown number and your face fell as you read over it. 

> hey, satoru here. i was thinking we should spend some time outside of class.

and then one more. 

> not like that

and one more

> but like the library or something 

> to work on the project.

you almost crushed your phone in between your fingers with how hard you were gripping it. if this was anyone else, the string of messages wouldn’t have bothered you. but because this was gojo, the fact that it could have been one message but he took up more space and sent multiple, had the audacity to make your phone ping multiple times, irritated you. 

— 

“she said no,” gojo whined into the pillows of his bed. he’s alone now, the room is dark from the sun being long gone. he was supposed to be asleep. he had a quiz the next morning and a study session. he simply couldnt afford to be a slob. but your relenting rejection of his advances drove him insane. every time he asked, you turned him down sharply, and something twisted in him. 

something taunt, just pulling him to the edge. the way your voice sharpened, the way he could imagine your eyes narrowing at him. fuck. he’s getting hard just thinking about it.

any normal person would stop already. give up on you. but he wanted a fair chance. he wanted to prove to you he wasn’t as annoying as you believed him to be. 

satoru tried to think of other ways to ask you out, to get you to come to the library, to at least finish this project with him so you both could get a good grade. but all rational thoughts slowly seeped out of his brain. 

because once again all he could think about was your eyes, the way they pinned him down with annoyance. the way you huffed every time he spoke, as if it was laborious to listen to him. the way you would cross your arms over your chest, as if he was one step away from getting reprimanded by you.

oh god, how he would love to get reprimanded by you. 

sweat built at gojos brow, his breath was labored. oh no, this was really bad. just those thoughts alone made him whimper quietly. there is no way he could ignore this. or go to sleep tonight. 

satoru turned over to lay on his back. his navy blue sheets rumpling under him. his phone was already in his hand, his fingers moving before his brain could process that he’s opening your instagram. thank goodness for a public account. 

you looked so good, in every picture. your hair caught the light perfectly. your eyes twinkled, caught mid laugh. or in your highlights, posing with your girlfriends in a bar, a black dress that slipped and hung on to every part of you so perfectly. gojo felt his mouth go dry. your skin so soft, so glowy, your lips shiny in every goddamn photo like you did not ever have a bad day. 

his hand was already palming himself over the boxers as he scrolled. gojos teeth sunk lower into his bottom lip to stop any noises from coming out. the last thing he needed was to be teased by geto if he heard. 

satoru thought that maybe, just maybe, he was done for tonight. maybe he could hold on to some dignity and not go all the way tonight. but then his thumb swiped over your perfectly arranged instagram and there it was. that photo of you. 

a club, or a party. some dark room and only a flash of red lights behind you and white, presumably from your phone or a camera, lighting you up. your head is thrown back, tongue sticking out, and your friend, cropped from the photo, only an arm visible, is pouring a drink into your mouth from above. 

gojo wanted that photo tattooed on his eyelids. 

no dignity. no holding back. his hand slipped into his boxers, fingers wrapping around himself. the strokes were jagged, twitchy as his brain flushed with thoughts of you. with images of that tongue running over him, all over him. of those pretty lips throwing insults at him as you ride him. that throat he can mark up, if you ever let him. 

he sprung himself free. all flushed and glistening and pretty. he was already so on edge that he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out long. not when it came to you. never when it came to you. 

he threw his head back, muttering soft prayers in the shape of your name. turning his head into his pillows once he couldnt hold back the pathetic whimpers spilling out from his lips. 

with just a couple of strong, long strokes over his pink, flushed length, gojo was spent. strings of thick white spilling over his own abs, his phone rested on his chest that moved up and down as he panted. his hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks red from embarrassment, desire. 

shame pooled deep in his stomach, waring with unrelenting attraction. his senses came back all of the sudden. what a creep. a pervert. jerking off to a photo of a girl from his class. you didnt post these photos for him to see. you most definitely did not think anyone would have this reaction. he really needed to get a grip. 

his phone suddenly pinged. who could be texting him so late at night?

> tomorrow, library at 5. i will be there if you want to work on the project. 

gojo let out a started, chocked gasp. he was actually going to see you outside of class! but how was he supposed to face after what he did tonight. he cant look into your eyes, he is sure you will see the shame, the filth, the dirty actions done the night before. 

he fucked up. 

satoru quickly replied, obviously agreeing to see you, even as he did not know how he will stand to be in same room with you after tonight. then he got up to clean up the mess he made. the hot water of the shower doing nothing to wash away the still lingering neediness and embarrassment. 

— 

gojo was there before you, because of course he was. 

he was so anxious about being late, or stumbling in, or not knowing what to say once he saw you, that he decided to show up a bit earlier. his stress induced mind wouldn’t let him do anything beside sit and stare at a wall until the time to leave came. so he showed up an hour early. 

you picked one of the larger libraries on campus. the bookshelves spanned several floors, the interior was filled with dark, aging wood. 

the tap of dojo’s foot added to the sound filled silence of the large space, students flipping through pages and typing on their laptops. 

satoru thought that by showing up early he will avoid embarrassment but now he had nothing to do. he could get started early, but then it would look like he was trying to one up you. so once again, he found himself just sitting, every scenario running through his mushy brain. 

gojo still hasnt calmed down from last night. and once in a while he has to bury his face in his hands from the heat crawling under his skin. gojo practiced breathing, so he doesnt look like he ran a marathon by the time you arrived. 

long breath in. short breath out. pause. finish breathing out. long breath in. short breath out. pause. finish breathing out. long breath in. pause-

“learning how to breathe for the first time?”

and just like that, satorus breathing exercise collapsed. his head snapped up, silky white hair falling around his forehead, wide, blue, glistening eyes meeting your narrowed ones. that unimpressed expression on your face, the one he has seen so often, he believed he has every ridge of it memorized. 

“hi,” he breathed out, pushing back his glasses that somehow, once again, slid down his nose. he thought he was doing a good job, with the calming exercises and all. but the second you set your bag down at the table between the two of you and slide into a chair right across from him, gojo’s lungs stuttered a bit. 

you only hummed in response, pulling out your note book and laptop to get started. 

the two of you worked surprisingly well. when you weren’t focused on the fact that you thought he was the biggest jerk, you stayed focused on the diagrams, equations, and questions. it was easy enough, the work was divided and notes were passed around.

for a good hour or so, the two of you were simply people who shared no past and no future. only the present. you held no names and no weight. and in that weird space, you found yourself able to guide him, work with him, even listen as he explained his part to you. 

during research, you fell into comfortable silence. gojo preferred to look through the physical copy of the text if it wasn’t already taken out by someone else, while you arranged the information found online on your neatly organized google doc you shared with him. 

a site was taking too long to load and you leaned back in your chair, eyes briefly flickering away to scan the premises. everyone was working away diligently, eyes locked onto their bright screens, pens gliding over lined paper. someone in the far end sketched while the person closest to you drew diagrams for what looked like an architecture project. 

finally, your eyes slid over to the person right in front of you. satoru was currently slightly hunched over a book, his fingers holding down the corner from flipping. his eyes slid over the page before he quickly glanced over his own computer and wrote something down. something you will probably have to fix later because he doesnt organize his notes the way you do. his white headphones rested over his ears, and you found yourself wondering what kind of music he listened to. his foot seized tapping as fast as before, now going at a much slower pace, most likely to match whatever rhythm he was playing in his headphones. 

it was kind of unfair, you thought, your bottom lip jutted out as your frowned, how good he looked just studying. absolutely not conscious of the way he is perceived at the moment. his hair fell perfectly over his brows, ends curling around his pale face that held the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes, and the slightly pink lips he wet once in a while, while muttering an equation. 

he still held the title of the biggest asshole to you, but you were not blind and therefore would not deny his attractiveness. 

your screen flashed blue, the website finally deciding to grace you with the much needed information. your eye flickered away from the pretty nerd before you and you leaned back in, diving back into your project.

— 

you stretched up, letting out a soft groan at the tensions in your back from sitting, in a probably very unappealing position, for hours, while grinding away at a project.

the hour was late and the library held around 5 students, all fighting against sleep and hunger. 

you took off your headphones that at this point gave you a headache, pulled off your black hair tie that held up your hair in a ponytail — the release immediately caused some of the stress and tautness to be released.

this caught gojos eye, he first scanned the time. late, a little too late. then he finally eased his eyes at you. your hair fell so pretty, framing your face under the dim yellow lights, exhaustion written in your eyes, and the twitch of your fingers indicated an ache from writing so much. 

gojo pulled his own headphones to hang on his neck. “done for tonight?” his voice came out soft, as to keep the peace of the library and the fragile connection the two of you built intact. 

“yeah, pretty much.” you quietly shut your laptop and he followed suit. “just one part i dont get… and dont go mumbling how stupid i am under your breath again.” you said with a chuckle, as if it was a joke the both of you were aware of. but gojo did not catch whatever you referred to. instead, he caught the bitter lilt to your voice, as if you were painfully trying to mask this comment as witty and not a rude remark. 

your heart still squeezed at the memory of that day. of the absolute terror you felt as you realized you were unable to stop your tears or fear that every single person though you were not smart enough to be in this program. 

gojos snowy eyebrows pinched together at his confusion. your comment made no sense to him, but he did not point it out, out of the fear of creating space between the two of you again. you had a reason for saying that, but why was it directed at him? 

the lack of his response indicated to you that you should probably just leave. there was no reason to beat a dead horse, right? 

the chair scraped the floor slightly as you rose up from it and gojo snapped out of his hazy, tumbling thoughts, and followed immediately, like he couldn’t bare you being a couple of feet away from him. his hand tugged on his half open bag, struggling to close it and rush after you. 

“are we- uh.. should we do this again?” the two of you stood outside, your breaths created a translucent cloud in the chilled air.

“probably,” you tucked your hands into your hoodie before they froze off. “we should really work more on this project.”

“yeah, right. the project,” gojo scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darted away from yours as you two stood in silence. 

“yeah, kay. g’night.” you turned on the balls of your feet to walk towards the parking lot, you just wanted to escape the awkwardness as soon as possible. you guessed that leaving the library lifted the thin presence of a symbiotic relationship you had with gojo. 

“oh! should i- well, can i walk you back?” he took one tentative step behind you and stopped suddenly, not wanting to come off as creepy. 

you threw him a glance over your shoulder that said ‘as if i cant protect myself’. “im fine.”

“right, night!” gojo swallowed, gaze following your retreating body with a sort of longing he should not posses as man that never even had you in the first place. 

—

the entire walk back to his own apartment, gojo kept replaying that comment in his head. muttering? calling you stupid? were you even talking about him, or was that a general comment? an attempt at a joke?

this thought haunted him for the following two weeks. 

while he was brushing his teeth in the morning. shirt discarded somewhere in his messy room. only blue pajama pants hanging low on his hips. hair tussled from the pillows. but the only thought in his head — when did i ever call her stupid? i would never! shes one of the smartest people i know.

or when passing in between lectures. the trees around the quad stood blossoming. the cool weather has finally passed and now new flower buds were springing up from every surface. making the university look like the photos straight out of brochures. but gojo couldnt focus on the blooming buds and blossoming trees. because he was too busy replaying every conversation he ever had with you. 

he was cooking breakfast? burned the eggs because his mind got caught in the way your voice sharpened around a word.

“do you remember me ever mentioning something like that?”

geto looked up from his phone, sprawled over the couch. “uh, no. dont believe so.”

“then why! i have this nagging feeling that whatever she meant by that was very important.”

“maybe youre reading into it, like always.”

satoru chewed at his bottom lip, hands delving into his hair as if he was trying to physically pull out the buried memories. 

“satoru,” geto sat up, looking at his friend like he needed serious saving. “relax. you’ll figure it out. how about we get your mind off of it, hm? you’ve been stuck on this damn girl for a bit too long,” he pulled his white haired friends hands away from his face. “c’mon. we got a party to go to,” gets’s voice raised in pitch in a coaxing manner, a sly smile pulling at his lips. 

and somehow that worked. because suguru and satoru were walking through the doors of a bustling party. it was chiller than a regular college rave, but still held a very classic party vibe. the colored lights were flashing in the main area, the side rooms equipped warmer, lower lights. the couches were arranged in a conversation pit style, assuming the position for a large group. pieces of loud conversations could be heard all around the rooms as songs switched in intensity. 

they found themselves in a familiar group of people. all lounging around, red cups lazily held by their fingers, talking over the music away from the main room. 

someone from the said group — offhandedly, simply meaning it as a joke — made a passing comment about satoru. something simple, along the lines of — “glad satoru isn’t the same snob as he was sophomore year, always sulking and muttering about. now he can finally have some fun” which the usual cheers and passing of drinks accompanied right after.

but that really stuck with him. so that comment you made? about muttering something rude under his breath? that really was about him. 

but instead of feeling regret, some sort of remorse. guilt? no. gojo felt… angry. annoyed.

it was so petty of you — the reason was so incredibly stupid, gojo could not grasp how you could handle putting both of your grades in danger, be such a pain to him for basically no reason, and still hold that grudge. from so long ago. 

geto leaned back against the couch, arms crossing over his chest as he burrowed himself deep in thought. 

something was finally clicking, whatever he must have said to you, pieces were coming back to him. slowly and hazy, but they were starting to come together. 

and then pow- it hit him like a brick. the memory of that sophomore class. he couldnt even remember the topic being discussed in class that day, but he could finally recall what he said. ‘how can someone not know this?’

gojo scoffed under his breath, the conversation taking place around him loud enough to swallow the soft, frustrated sound. 

it wasn’t long before he caught you across the room. who knew you would show up to the same party he did? as annoyed as gojo wanted to stay, his eyes kept wondering towards you. as if you were something so captivating his body simply would not go against the desire to feast upon your beauty. 

you were awfully bored in your apartment tonight, the place so quiet while your thoughts were so loud, you simply had to crawl out. you hit up the first party with enough people you could find. not like you needed an invite. a low enough top or a short enough skirt could get you in anywhere. 

your eyes flickered around the room, occasionally landing on the same white block of hair. you assumed gojo wasn’t much of a party goer. but here he was. as much as you were ‘warming up’ to him, if you could even call it that. you still preferred to have your outings not be noted by his piercingly perceptive blue eyes.

the main area was dark, only flashing lights occasionally provided you enough light to see where you were going or who was around you. pushing through a mess of bodies, you finally made it to the drink table. you went for an empty cup, but someones long fingers were already wrapping around it. 

you pulled back, muttering a sorry and reaching for another empty cup, only to notice that the table was cleared. that was obviously the last one.

you glanced up to see the blue eyes that cut through the darkness, that did not lose their intensity even as the color of the room flashed and switched. gojos eyes were tenser than usual, crinkling in the corners, framed by long, beautiful snowy lashes, almost glaring down at you. 

“chivalry is dead, huh?” you huffed, “cant even offer a lady her cup anymore.” you shook your head and instead reached for a bottle. but it was already being knocked from your grip by him, why in the world did you keep reaching for the same stuff! 

you whipped your head around, glaring back up at him. “can you not be in my way, please?” it was a bit rude, your snappy tone even catching you off guard, but the room was hot, the music was too loud, and you just wanted a damn drink. 

to your surprise, gojo didnt step back. didnt apologize profusely nor did he blush furiously like he did many times before. no. his eyes narrowed behind his thin wired glasses. “what is your problem?” 

it was cutting. the tone that made you feel guilty immediately. it made your eyes widen and your heartbeat speed up, your brain already scurrying to escape the situation. you feel as if you are about to get scolded, but instead you straighten up, meeting his gaze head on. 

“what? i am just trying to get a drink.”

“no.” gojo leaned forward, nose inches away. “i mean what is your goddamn problem? is it attention you want?” he scoffed, even though you provided no answer. he didnt need verbal confirmation. in his mind, he had you figured out. and that idea of you, he hated her. that is someone he truly could despise. so gojo didnt feel so bad once he continued. “i muttered something one, once under my breath. and you-“ he laughed. a laugh that held no humor what so ever, and instead increased the anxiety you were trying to hide by tenfold. “you blew it out of proportion. do you know how stupid that is? i literally was bending over backwards trying to get you to talk to me so we can at least pass the damn class together. and all of that? all that attitude- was because of something i muttered two years ago? youre unbelievable.” 

once he finished with his rant that somehow did not get swallowed by the loud music around you, anger flashed in your eyes. all throughout your veins. because of course he would think it was stupid. “you dont get it at all, do you?” 

“what is there to get? little miss attention seeker.”

you grabbed his sleeve, for some reason needing him to know exactly how he made you feel. shove his stupid, pretty face straight into the truth. 

you pushed him into the first random room you could find. locking the door after yourself. “that’s what you think i wanted?”

gojo was out of breath and so were you. you were seething and he was realizing he is locked alone in a room with you. 

“attention? i could live just fine without your attention!” you snapped once again, but this time it wasn’t annoyance. your tone was so sharp, so raw, that gojo awoke from his imagination of you. realizing now he was too late. he has really fucked up.

“you dont know what its like being part of a group that systematically rejects you. you would never understand that! what it feels like to break every piece of yourself off just to try and fit it. to swallow your emotions and complaints and be nice to every single asshole because youre scared of never being accepted.” hot, angry tears built at the back of your eyes, a knot was tightening in your throat. “your-hic!” tears spilled from your eyes without your permission and you felt so stupid, crying in front of a guy who definitely did not deserve it. “your fucking comment made me feel so useless. so stupid. like i would never find my place. never belong.” you turned away, wiping angrily at your tears. ashamed of admitting that he had this much influence over you. “go and mutter all you want under your breath, but you words hold weight. a ton of fucking weight.”

you couldnt handle meeting his eyes and simply ran out before he had the time to say anything. this was just like you sophomore year. running away with tears in your eyes. how ironic. and pathetic. 

gojo stood in that dark room, watching the door slowly closing. he was frozen, unable to move whatsoever after you spilled your heart out. the image he had of you? absolutely vanished. of course you would put up a front against him. he was an asshole to you without even being prompted. and even now, he decided to trust his twisted idea of you that made him feel better about himself rather than genuinely asking you why something that seemed so small to him, made you so upset.

— 

your project with gojo was done. every single document has been submitted. and for the next couple of days, you decided not to show up. it was weak of you, you knew. you should be stronger and go to the lecture, sit through it like nothing happened and nothing bothered you.

but a lot happened.

and a lot bothered you. 

so you chose your peace and stayed in your apartment. the assignments that followed the project were all online anyway and you got most of your notes from your friend. and your professor was sweet enough to email you detailed lesson pages and whatever was discussed in class that day. and plus you didnt have to see that smart-ass anywhere else. 

after only going to your other lectures, staying home, and venturing out to the library, you craved to go out. literally anywhere. the grocery store, the thrifts, even the dining hall. hell, even the vending machine at the corner of the uni!

but the downpour was awful. 

absolutely horrible. it has been this way since you woke up. and it was already past midday. the rain did not even cease for five minutes for you to step out on to your balcony and enjoy the fresh, cool air. 

of course, even mother nature had to ruin your plans. you opted for a cozy night in — again. another quite night, you guessed. 

but as soon as you turned down the living room lights, the fluorescence of the tv mixing in with the warmth of your lamps, and wrapped yourself in a blanket, a serious of hurried, unorganized knocks came at your door. then the doorbell, and then more knocks. 

absolutely no one you knew would be breaking down your door right now. or ever really. so who was so desperate to get in?

you shrugged off the blanket and stalked towards the door. your fingers flicked the lock and wrapped around the door handle before pulling it in, revealed a drenched gojo. 

his white hair was plastered all over his forehead in messy strands. his glasses were covered in raindrops. his white shirt, with some goofy design on it, was drenched through and through. he held a dripping sweater in his hand, indicating that the rain was able to soak him through two layers. 

he looked absolutely pathetic. eyebrows pinched together and pulled up in that pleading expression of his. his fingers tightened and trembled over the sweater as he stood, creating a puddle of rainwater by your door. 

“im sorry,” satoru broke down. his voice cracking as he struggled to take a breath. did he run here? through the rain? 

“im so sorry, y/n” he whispered your name, again and again. his knees gave out from exhaustion. knees colliding with the floor, hands bracing himself against your doorframe.

he noticed you have missed the lectures. of course. he was the one that hacked into the professors email so he could stay up half the night, writing out lecture lessons and notes, he knew you would never read his emails. he knew you already blocked his number. so he had to get creative. he couldnt sleep some nights. the guilt gnawed at his insides like a starving dog at a peace of meat. his stomach turned every time he recollected the way your eyes shone with tears and his heart twisted every time he recalled your sharp but honest words. he missed you so much, your pretty face, your rude remarks, your lingering glances you thought he didnt notice. 

“im such an idiot. i know i was, and still am.” he lifted his head, meeting your confused gaze. they were so wide and earnest, blue and sparkling with unshed tears, “i didnt- i didnt know it made you feel that way. i hate myself for making you feel that way. youre so incredibly smart and i- fuck. i think about you so much- admire you so much it hurts.” 

he looked like a kicked puppy. his eyes slid over your backlit form and he couldnt help but whimper. actually whimper at the sight of you. 

“please give me a chance. please.” gojo begged. shaky hands coming up to gently hold the back of your thighs. “ill be good. i promise. i will never mistreat you like i did. you deserve so much better. please, please let me give you that. let me show you i am worth it. i can be that for you.”

something warm pooled in your stomach at his continuous pleading. like your presence in his life was above the presence of air. 

your fingers raked through his wet hair and gojos breath stuttered. “youll be good?”

your fingers tightened in his hair and gojos eyes fluttered shut. “so good.” he muttered. 

neither of you moved. the tv quietly kept playing something in the empty room behind you. the rain still hammering hard against the window. 

you studied him quietly. not the smart, know it all, infuriating boy. 

but the exhausted, vulnerable, raw, real satoru. 

his eyes fluttered open again and he looked at you as if you held his future in your hands. like he was giving up his full autonomy to you.

his fingers flexed against the back of your thighs before releasing, afraid he was doing too much. 

“you ran here?”

a laugh escapes his lips, broken and embarrassed. 

“yeah.”

“in the storm?”

a soft nod followed. 

“that’s stupid.”

“i know.”

“you couldve gotten sick.”

“i know. i dont care. i had to see you.”

your lips twitched despite yourself and the sight of that knocked all air out of gojos lungs. 

his gaze slithered over to your lips but he felt as if he didnt deserve the sight of that, didnt deserve your soft smile. he looked down again. 

“look at me,”

and once again, there was so much hope in his eyes it made your chest ache.

“gojo-“

“no, satoru, please. call me satoru.”

you sighed, “satoru-“

you could see the goosebumps rise on his skin simply from the way you said his name. 

“i meant it,” he interrupted, voice a bit calmer now but not lacking any meaning. “i know i dont deserve another chance. i know that. but if there’s even the smallest possibility.” 

his throat bobbed. 

“ill spend as long as it takes proving it.”

your hand slipped form his hair to his cheek and and satoru froze. not because he did not want the touch, but because he wanted it too much. so much. he dreamed of you touching him in every way possible. 

“youre such an idiot,” you murmured.

gojo melted into your touch, cheek pressing into your palm, seeking any and all the warmth and comfort it had to offer.

“your idiot. completely yours.”

[luvs-angel]

the first time your son learned how to walk, you and your husband satoru were over the moon. it was on a random saturday afternoon with you all in your son’s playpen. already a seemingly rare occasion where satoru finally had a break from all of his missions.

at just 6 months, your baby could already crawl and stand up by using objects above to grip onto — satoru argues that the gojo genetics has him so incredibly advanced for his age.

but that wasn’t enough for your son. now at 9 months old, he kept attempting to walk only for his little legs to give up halfway. but you were determined for today to finally be the day.

satoru was sprawled out like a starfish whilst replacing the batteries for your son’s bubble machine. that which you had shoko to thank for — all of your friends collectively made sure that your baby was beyond spoiled than he already is.

you were also sat further away with all of the toys beside you to motivate your son to walk over.

“come on baby! don’t you want teddy back?” you chirp at your son.

he slowly stands up, already making improvement since he wasn’t holding onto anything for the first time. “ma–ma!” he happily claps his tiny hands as he takes two small baby steps.

“that’s it! come to mama!” you encourage him into your arms whilst he’s still deciding if he should try to walk or not. your son has a cute pout and furrow in his eyebrows painting his dedicated face as his wobbly steps grow more steady.

“oh my gosh! satoru, look!” you shake his shoulder repeatedly to face your son who was slowly but surely padding his way over to you both.

“wooow~ look at our little munchkin go!” he cheers on. you pull out your phone to commemorate the special milestone.

“dadadadada” he babbles on until stumbling over a lego block. you and satoru immediately share a look that says ‘do not react’ before he gets back up waddling and continues his string of babbles right into satoru’s arms.

“awww my smart baby! we’re so proud of you! and i think this may call for some mochi ice cream to celebrate if mama allows it…”

“alrighttt.. just this once. our baby deserves it after all.” you say in between peppering your son’s face in kisses.

little did you know how much of an adorable menace your son would grow into once learning how to walk…

fast forward to now at 12 months old, and it feels like your son was placed on earth for the sole purpose of acting as your personal trainer with the way you’re relentlessly chasing after him non-stop.

it’s early in the morning when satoru’s soft snores have once again woken you up — but he’ll always deny it. his arms are wrapped around your waist to cage you in from starting the day way too early.

“toru, let go…” you whisper whilst caressing his hair to gently wake him up.

“mmm.. five more minutes if you love me...” he croaks, reluctantly letting go eventually — but not before whining immediately when you do get up. god, sometimes he acts more like a baby than your actual infant.

when you groggily check the baby monitor on the bedside table, your heart drops. why is your baby not… in his crib? maybe you’re running on a lack of sleep which is causing you to hallucinate? you rub your eyes and focus on the screen again only to be met with the same sight.

at this point your mind is going to the worst of places. what if the gojo clan were right and you weren’t cautious enough and now your baby was made a target?

“hey– hey, what’s the matter sweets?” satoru’s words snap you out of your overthinking. it turns out you were hyperventilating without even realising which was enough to awaken the now worried sleepyhead.

“toru, he’s not in his crib! where the hell could he be?!”

“shh, it’s okay. i can sense his tiny cursed energy still in the home. let’s just get up and look for him, can you do that for me?” he softly kisses your cheek.

“o-okay, yeah. i can do that.” you get out of bed and head to the living room, satoru trailing from behind. you won’t lie and admit that you’re out of breath when you get there. ugh, curse satoru for insisting on spoiling you with a mansion after moving in together!

you scan the empty living room all over “okay so, he’s not here..” you mumble quietly, trying to compose yourself from freaking out.

“let’s not panic, we still have fifty something other rooms to check!”

you shoot him a glare, “that is not helping me right now. what if he accidentally hurt himself? a-and it’s so bad that he can’t even call out for us?!” your voice cracks as tears threaten to spill out. yeah. you were spiralling.

“stay calm sweets. i’ll check the other living room, kay?” he kisses at your pout. you hum defeatedly in response, pacing mindlessly into the kitchen until you suddenly stop in your tracks.

there you saw…your baby? sat on the floor hugging the jar of homemade cookies whilst munching away. crumbs and chocolate chips smear his face and clothes as a sign that he’s been here for a good minute.

“what on earth…” your son just giggles like he understands your confusion. “mama cookie!” he stretches out his grubby hand to show his half–bitten cookie, almost like a peace offering.

“uh, one second baby.. ahem– SATORUUU! come take a look at what your son is up to!” you have to yell knowing he’s somewhere on the other side of the massive house. your son who is completely unfazed by your shouting goes back to joyfully munching on his cookie.

satoru frantically spawns there within seconds, “you found him?” you nod, gesturing him to look down at the sight you just walked into. “oh wow–” he can’t help but burst out laughing, “that’s my son alright!”

you scoop your baby up into your arms and prop him on your waist. he whimpers when you separate him from his beloved cookie jar. “really? you couldn’t tell when he came out with glowing blue eyes?”

“heyyy! i can’t help that my genes are insanely overpowering! but you never know, perhaps our next one will be your carbon copy~” he playfully winks at you.

you roll your eyes, “how smooth of you. seriously though, how did he even end up here and reaching the jar?”

“hmm..” satoru points at the tiny stool, “he must’ve pulled out this stool to get to the jar. and as for how he got here, you must know by now that he’s an ambitious walker.”

“oh trust me i know. gosh, he’s getting way too smart for us. i think we need to lock away the goods before this continues..”

“good idea, i’ll look into investing in a safe. you go back to bed and i’ll sort out a bath for this cookie monster.” he pokes your son’s chubby cheeks which makes him squeak before you hand him over. “after all, he probably developed his newfound sweet tooth from me.”

“probably? oh please– it was most definitely you! my pregnancy cravings were the only time i was consistently having sugar to make my pickles and ice cream combo.”

“hehe– remember when you would wrap the pickles in fruit roll ups” satoru chuckles at the memory. he would taste all of your unique cravings with you as a means of showing his support in any way possible — even if he found it absolutely repulsive.

“of course, that was heavenly.” you sigh dreamily before turning to your son and holding his pudgy hand in yours “and baby, cookies are only allowed for treating good behaviour. if you have too much then you’re going to be sick. we don’t want that now, do we?”

“nooo…” your son shakes his head.

“alright mister, let’s get that bath ready then make some breakfast in bed for mama. you gave her quite the scare wandering off like that, so give her a kiss before we go.” something about satoru in dad mode always leaves your heart skipping a beat, from the very moment he carried your baby in the hospital.

“otay! bye bye mama” he cups your face with his sticky hands and places a sloppy kiss on both of your cheeks. “dada turn!”

“well, don’t mind if i do~” he catches you off guard as his lips smoothly connect to yours. you naturally melt into the kiss until a few moments later when your son has had enough and starts pounding at his dad’s chest to stop.

“hey– ow! why’re you hitting papa, hm?”

“no more! all done.” your baby shrieks in a somewhat stern tone, and satoru could’ve sworn that he saw his son’s bright blue eyes narrow at him. you only snort at his silly attempt to protect you.

“alright, let’s not be too mean on daddy. or else who’ll buy your sweets and toys?”

“GASP– is that all you think i’m good for?”

“yes.” you immediately deadpan, your baby watches you nod and copies. “yesh.”

“oh god– i never thought i’d see the day where the love of my life and my spawn are both turning against me! i– i can’t take it!” he clutches at his shirt dramatically making you and your baby giggle.

“hey! don’t call our precious son a spawn!” you lightly slap his shoulder, of course your baby follows and shoves him too. “you sound like the higher ups..” you pettily grumble under your breath, loud enough for him to hear.

“eugh– you’re right. sorry mochi, but let’s go take that bath. something seriously stinks now–” satoru grimaces, giving one last kiss to your forehead before you go back to bed for a nap whilst he cleans your baby up.

you may joke with him all the time but one thing for certain is that he’s always been an amazing husband and father. ≧◡≦

notes: i luv reading dad jjk men so writing this was soso fun, don’t be shy to req more guys, technically gojo could have teleported to the baby but i wanted to long things out 🥰, but yeah i didn’t know how to end it so hope this was okay

[shoichee]

Sooo you want angst? How about a fic/hc/scenario where a fem!reader who's friends with Aomine and liked for a long time (since Teiko) but Aho-mine takes her for granted because: 1. He knows she likes him 2. She's not like Horikita Mai 3. She's not affiliated to the basketball club. The reader is left heartbroken and eventually gave up. He only realized that how important she to him is when she's gone, and that he always liked her too when he sees her with someone else. (Bonus points if it's Kagami~) Especially when he sees that guy being all gentle and sweet. Angst and regrets for Aomine, but a bit fluffy for the reader~ "You'll never know what you have until you lose it, *Aho*mine"

Aomine x f!Reader

Word Count: 12,784

yes this is 39-40 pages on the doc, I’m warning you guys, it’s a bit long, but hey~ get your christmas reading in, I guess?

Note: I can’t believe I had to track down the general timeline for this to the point where I found a reddit thread that had the mangaka’s notes on these types of things. The dates given aren’t canon, but the months should be canon in terms of when mentioned canon events happen? The new school year date I’m 99% sure is correct, since it starts the day after spring break.

current 🏷: @nadav-ii, @carinacassiopeiae, @kendrex13, @roppongiperfume, @thesongstressayre, @kimigiri09 (it’s unfortunately not tagging you? i can only make a link to your tumblr)

wanna be in the taglist? check out this post!

»»—————　☼　—————««

[2 years ago]

“Hey…” a boy with cropped hair turned to you sheepishly with a friendly smile. “My bad, but… could you help me with these questions? I don’t really get it, and you seem to know your stuff.”

“Huh?” You looked up from your desk to see a bashful expression for him, clearly finding it embarrassing to ask for help. To help him save face, you quickly agreed, patting the empty table next to you for him to sit. It was before class, an ordinary day in Teiko, though nothing is really “ordinary” in a school like Teiko to begin with.

“Thanks,” he grinned at you.

You nodded at him before asking, “What is it you have trouble on… um…”

“Aomine Daiki,” he finished for you. “And on these questions. I don’t get them…”

“Okay, Aomine-san,” you nodded, leaning closer to properly read the questions. “Here’s how you do them…”

. . .

“Holy crap, you’re an actual life-saver!”

Aomine quickly rushed to the front of your desk after class to thank you, nearly scaring you out of your wits while you were clearing out your space.

“It’s nothing, really…” you insisted, putting your hands up out of shyness. Being praised out of nowhere like that definitely wasn’t a part of an “ordinary” day.

“I’m serious!” he shot back earnestly. “If it weren’t for you, I woulda failed that pop quiz…” He gulped at the thought of Akashi and Midorima figuring out his academic scores. “So I really appreciate you teaching me, even if you didn’t even know me at all!”

“Pfft,” you laughed. “You’re more than free to come ask me for help.”

“Oh yeah,” he turned to face you, with an expression oddly serious for someone like him. “I never got your name.”

You smiled at his outstretched hand and shook it with your own.

“(l/n) (y/n).”

———

[December 12th]

“Aomine!! You made Momoi cry again?”

“Shut up already, and quit naggin’ so much or you’ll grow wrinkles.”

You only give a huff of indignation before sending your best glare to him. He merely looks at you from the corner of his eyes before closing them with a sigh. That was an indication that he wanted this conversation to end—to change the subject elsewhere that wasn’t as annoying to think about.

“... Go easier on her, okay?” you give a sigh of your own before turning away from him. “She only does these things because she really cares for you. I’m really serious.”

Because I care too.

“Everyone worries for you… Kuroko has been really down in the dumps lately… did… something happen between the two of you?”

“You really are more annoying than Satsuki,” Aomine mumbles, getting up from his resting position to sit up with a slouch. You turn around to face him to participate in a banter again, but his pointed look at you stopped all the words from forming on your tongue. You only stare at him when he continues again. “Seriously, I just wanted a nap on the rooftop and you’re always pestering me, for what?” You furrowed your brows to snap at him.

“To practice, Aomine! Practice sucks, I get it. I personally would want to sleep and chill all day, too. But the fact is, everyone is doing their best on the courts, whether in games or drills, and I know that a part of you wants to also be at your best when the games come, so it’s just so frustrating to see you throw away practices like this—”

“What do you know about me?”

You flinch. You have his entire attention now, his sitting position turned completely to face you. His arm is propped up on a knee, and his lips are pulled in a taut line. What does he even mean…? You’ve been friends for years… right? You hesitate before continuing.

“... I might… not know you as well as Momoi, I know that for sure. And Kuroko, too—but when I see those two visibly upset for your sake, I just can’t help but hate to see how your friendships together are just—you guys were so close and then just, something must’ve happened—”

“Shut the fuck up already.” His eyes finally sharpen into a clarity that fully reflected anger. Clearly, your words touched a nerve. “People like you who act all high and mighty when you have no idea what you’re talking about are the most irritating.”

“... Did something happen at practice recently?”

He abruptly stands up before he walks to the ledge of the higher concrete structure, his back to you. You have no idea what his face looked like at the moment, but after a moment of tense silence, he finally lowered his head as if he thought hard about something.

“... You wouldn’t understand.”

And with that, he jumps down, not even bothering to use the ladder to get down. A harsh screech of the bulky door was the only indication that Aomine left the rooftop to no doubt sleep somewhere else. Silence follows.

“I wouldn’t understand… huh…” you whisper out to no one in particular, staring at the city view obstructed by the safety fencing around the rooftop. You bite your lip in hopes of tamping down the awful feelings threatening to bubble out of you—the powerlessness in helping the person you love; the frustration of him never opening up to you; the lost isolation of being constantly left in the dust. This wasn’t the first time he did this to you, always storming off in his own tantrum when you confronted him on these matters—you weren’t a stranger to them at all. You’ve known him for nearly three years now—you shouldn’t be surprised. So why… why do you feel this way now?

But he’s never lashed out on you like this… ever.

You rapidly blink in hopes of regaining your composure, the kind that would pretend everything was okay and that his words didn’t really hurt you at all.

Yet, even when your lips begin to quiver uncontrollably, your eyes take on a glint of determination, your mind made up. It’s been years since you’ve known him, and you’re going to try to get to the bottom of this.

I want to understand him.

———

[December 13th]

“Aomine doesn’t hate you, (l/n)-san.”

“Eh?” You shoot your head up at Kuroko’s words. You decided to look for Kuroko the next day to confide in him about what happened at the rooftop, even when you two aren’t particularly close to each other. But you knew that Kuroko wouldn’t turn you down if matters were about the Generation of Miracles, let alone Aomine. Kuroko is just far too kind to turn away from people in need of help. Even when you know he’s busy, he insists that you two sit together on a bench to talk things out.

“I… I don’t know,” you whisper. “I think I said something that seriously messed up our friendship.” Kuroko offers you a consoling pat on the head when he sees you trying to hold back tears.

“Aomine-kun… tends to say things he doesn’t mean when he’s angry.” Kuroko sighs a bit, but something lurks deep within his eyes before it disappears altogether. “He’s going through a tough time right now, so I think it’s best to give him space.”

“A tough time?” You widen your eyes a bit before turning away. How come Momoi never told you this? Why didn’t Aomine confide in you? “... May I ask what happened?”

“... As much as I want to tell you,” he begins, “it’s not in my place to say. You’d have to ask Aomine-kun himself when he’s ready.” He drops his hand from the top of your head and faces ahead of him, presumably observing people walking by you two as a form of distraction. He’s thinking about something, and you feel that this conversation has been progressively turning more intrusive on your end. You opt to also stare at the passersby while you ask the next pressing question in your mind.

“Then, is it in your place to tell me what happened between you and Aomine?” You instantly regret your question when you see Kuroko stiffen up and bow his head lower to hide his face. “I… just wanted to ask, because I don’t like seeing how you two practically became strangers in a day, when you guys used to hang out so much, as if you two were inseparable… I thought Aomine’s foul moods lately were because of that… but—you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” You add the last part in a rush in fear of sounding too demanding.

“Yeah…” he trails off in response. “It’s a bit complicated… I’m still not sure what happened either. It was during our game against Kamizaki when Aomine-kun changed.”

“Oh… Kamizaki…” you reply, uncertainty taking over your voice as you scramble your brain to try to figure out a connection, but to no avail. You mentally curse yourself for not knowing enough about the sport to help out Aomine. “Um, Kamizaki is…?”

Kuroko, thankfully noticing your confusion, patiently explains the context. “Kamizaki is one of the strong teams that gave us a hard time during one of our national matches last year. Aomine had been looking forward to going against them again.”

“Ah!” you chime as if a lightbulb went off in your head. “So you guys lost this year?”

“No, we won that game.”

“Then…” you mumble, furrowing your brows. “I don’t get it… he’s upset that he won?”

(“You wouldn’t understand.”)

“I think it’s something more than that.” Kuroko gets up from the bench while facing you. “Sorry, it’s almost time for practice. I’ll have to get going soon, (l/n)-san. And please don’t be disheartened by Aomine’s words.”

“I’ll try to apologize to him and make amends,” you say with a smile. “If he can scare me away that easily, then I have no right to call myself his friend!” Kuroko gives a small nod and a miniscule smile of his own as he readjusts his book bag on his shoulder.

You only give an automatic wave and nod of your own before he turns to walk away. You, however, miss the somber light in his eyes as he departs for the gym.

———

[December 16th]

You constantly tail after him like a lost puppy at every chance you get, Aomine notes, watching you dash to him with a wave of your arm and a huge smile the moment the school bell signaled the end of the day. He frowns a bit when your eyes fall to the ground when you stop in front of him. Surprisingly, he’s being patient, waiting for you to face him and say what you needed to say. A part of him doesn’t like the troubled look on your face.

“I’m sorry.”

He’s absolutely bewildered, his face giving away what he felt. There’s no way he expected to be forgiven so easily after what he said to you. As much as he knew that he meant every word he said, there was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth after he harshly reprimanded you the other day. You didn’t really deserve him lashing out on you.

“Huh?” He narrows his eyes as he takes a closer read at your face and body language. What the hell? Were you messing with him? “What are you doing?” A rhetorical question he proposed, knowing that no sane person would be this apologetic for something he knew was the one more at fault in the situation. His pride refuses to let him voice out his thoughts though.

“No, really. I’m really sorry for what I said a couple days ago. It was out of line and not in my place to speak when I don’t even know the whole situation and still assume things… so…” you trail off, scratching your cheek in trying to summon up the rest of the words you practiced for your apology for the entire day prior to meeting up with Aomine.

“Oh…” he blinks at your words, replaying the scene at the rooftop in his mind. “That? It’s whatever. Don’t think too much of it.” It’s not really your fault.

“Argh, I’m serious about this, y’know!” you scowl, a complete 180 from the uncertainty on your face seconds earlier. “How could you forget it already?” Despite your words, you’re relieved that he didn’t come to hate you. Besides spending the day practicing your dreaded apology, you spent another day coming to terms with the high possibility that he’d hate you for the rest of his life… and thus, you played out nearly every scenario in your head in how you’d have to beg for forgiveness or find ways to be in his good graces again. The woes of liking someone like Aomine Daiki really came to bite you in the ass quite frequently recently.

Aomine’s eyes follow your hand gestures and explosive outburst before they fall to your side in a weird moment of silence coming from you. You’re thinking about something unnecessary, it seems.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he lightly flicks your forehead. “O-Ow! What the hell?!”

“You’re thinking way too hard about this. Don’t worry about it.” He’s back to his normal self, face impassive once more as he looks down at you. “Geez… you take things way too seriously.”

“R-Right…” you mumble, clearing your throat after a few seconds of him staring at you. “Anyways… I made an extra bento box today, considering that I heard from Momoi that you’re always stealing food from everyone when you’re hungry… just take it. As a token of apology, or something…” With that, you pull out the lunch from your bag and nearly chuck it at him out of embarrassment before you run out the opposite direction where you came from.

“Heh…” he huffs out a chuckle, half-exhale, before looking at the bento box in his hand. “Token of apology, huh…” He opens up the lid to find every part of the lunch meticulously cooked and delicately placed. Octo-dogs were placed in the corner on top of a small pile of rice, while you made small veggie animals with shredded nori sprinkled generously around. A smirk grows on his face when he observes how much work you actually put into it, and if anyone who knew him saw him right now, they might dare to call his smirk somewhat boyish. “Now that’s a load of crap if I’ve ever heard one in a while, (y/n).”

Now… where should he nap for today? He didn’t want to go back to the rooftop for a while, now that either you or Momoi might come up again to disturb him, and there aren’t a lot of locations who can offer that same level of quiet. Aomine grabs an octo-dog to munch on while he walks down the hallway, thinking about where to go for today. That is, until he hears hurried footsteps that he’s very much grown accustomed to for many years now.

“Dai-chan!” Momoi huffs out of breath before she slows down her running to match his stride. “You didn’t even wait for me to get out of class! You’re such a meanie, ugh!”

“Yeah, yeah…” he automatically replies, already drowning out her voice as he keeps walking. He grabs a cat-shaped carrot to pop into his mouth before noisily chewing it to further block out her chattering of anything that may have happened in the Teiko practices lately. Momoi suddenly stops her usual chirping to tippy-toe to get a better look at what he’s holding.

“Eh? Isn’t that (y/n)-chan’s… lunch?” Momoi’s inquisitive voice brought him out of his mind at the mention of your name. He turns to look down at her pouting face.

“Huh? What about her?”

“Don’t tell me you stole it from her! Mou, if you’re gonna keep doing this to people, at least spare (y/n)-chan! Actually, you should stop stealing people’s lunches—”

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t get it twisted, Satsuki. (y/n) gave me one. Said she had an extra.”

“Oh… I… see,” she drops any further assumptions and turns rather thoughtful, something that Aomine never associates with anything good if her mind wasn’t thinking about something basketball-related.

“You better not think of anything stupid,” he says, proceeding to lazily pick up another octo-dog while picking up his walking speed. Momoi, noticing that he’s trying to divert the topic, also picks up her pace to catch up to him.

“(y/n)-chan is a nice girl, isn’t she?”

“Huh?” He stops walking abruptly. Momoi, in trying to catch up, bumps into Aomine’s back before she takes a few steps back to face an annoyed Aomine. “What the hell’s that gotta do with anything?”

“Nothing like that,” she responds, still deep in thought. She continues with a concerned tone of voice. “Just treat her nicely okay? I saw her crying the other day with Tetsu-kun when I was looking for him.”

“And you think it’s my fault for making her cry,” he coldly finishes her thought, not liking where the conversation is going.

“I-I didn’t say that!” Momoi raises her voice defensively, surprised at his unusual reaction. “I was just trying to see if you knew anything about it, Ahomine! Besides, I’m just warning you to be gentle with her or else you’ll never stop hearing it from me!”

“First you’re gonna nag me about basketball, and now this thing with (y/n)? You’re not my damn mom.”

“Because I know you’re never honest about your feelings!” she retorted, getting straight to the point. “If you’re gonna be an asshole, leave her out of it, seriously! (y/n)-chan’s my friend, so any business she has with you is also mine!”

“What (y/n) does is none of my business.” His voice takes on a more hostile tone. “Unlike you, I don’t hover over her constantly.”

“Liar,” she hisses, dropping her playfulness. “Then what was that whole thing about when you scared off some guys who were going after (y/n)-chan two weeks ago? You clearly were around her a lot more to the point where even Tetsu-kun asked me if you had a thing for her!”

Something rises within Aomine when he hears Momoi’s accusations—sickenly warm and terribly uncomfortable, as if his entire body was feeling the effect of pin needles from lack of blood flow. Whatever it is, he hates it.

“I don’t care if they wanna get close to (y/n) all they want. They were invading my damn personal space,” he spits out. “Those dickheads aren’t her type anyways.”

“So you like her then—”

“Hell no,” he scoffs with an inscrutable expression. “She’s definitely not my type. Let’s get that straight, Satsuki.” He finally decides to look at Momoi with his peripheral vision, but all he discerns is her face clearly glaring at him. “The hell are you looking at me like that? Are you gonna tell me that I can’t have a preference now?”

Momoi softens her harsh expression at his question. “Well… no, but…” She stops before she sighs and decides to drop her interrogation. “I just have that womanly instinct, you know? I think (y/n)-chan might see you as—”

“... I know.” His tone becomes one of defeat, his face also softening from his usual frowning countenance.

“Dai-chan…?” Momoi, immediately noticing his change, tries to look at his face to peer into his eyes, but Aomine averts his eyes away under her scrutiny. “You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”

He grunts under his breath as his only response, but his eyes fixating on your half-eaten bento as he keeps walking ahead speaks volumes to Momoi about his inner turmoil.

She drops the subject for his sake.

———

[January 17th]

You’ve stopped bugging Aomine about basketball entirely.

Bringing it up, you reason, seems to be a really sore spot for him as of late, and it’s hypocritical of you to lecture him on it when you have no clue on the topic to begin with. Maybe you can entrust that role completely to Momoi… after all, he’s much closer to her than he is with you. Maybe instead of “being his mom,” like Aomine says, perhaps you should take the time to observe and appreciate the things around you and mind your own business. Like the trees starting to bud… the refreshing breeze… and white noise of students excitedly talking to each other as they pass by buildings… the therapeutic page flips next to you as Aomine slouches to get himself comfortable on the concrete. Though, that’s what you tell yourself as you continue to hear Aomine give an occasional hum of approval.

The knowledge of the content inside those pages isn’t therapeutic in the slightest. But you’d rather endure your petty feelings of jealousy than to risk upsetting him again. You clench your skirt pleats with every increasing number of page-turns you hear… he’s been going through his new collection a lot faster than usual, too…

You hone your focus on your modern history worksheet on your lap instead, hoping that staring at the printed figure of Yamagata Aritomo hard enough could somehow transport you into Meiji-era Japan and escape your current predicament. Still, you’re grateful that you have the chance to sit next to him at the usual rooftop once again. You don’t know how exactly you two agreed to come up to share the space again, but when you decided to come up to the rooftop on a whim, Aomine was already there. All he said was a lazy “yo” before he went back to reading his issues, which you took as a way for him to tell you that he didn’t mind your presence. And you settled yourself a few feet away from him, making yourself comfortable on the concrete before settling down your bag. Hence, leading up to this point… which you sort of regret being here now.

No matter, if you’re already here, you might as well actually start studying for your high school entrance exams. Normally you’d also turn to Aomine to scold him to take his studies just as seriously, but when you habitually turn to face him and open your mouth… you stop.

What am I thinking? You’re not his mom, remember, (y/n)? You want him to see you as a desirable woman. Stop being naggy!

You give a wry smile to yourself, watching Aomine at peace in this shared moment between the two of you, even if his object of his undivided attention was Horikita Mai.

It’s okay… you think. As long as I get to remain by his side like this, I won’t ask for more.

You force yourself to peel your gaze away from him to look back at the historical figure printed rather crookedly on the paper. You resolve yourself to pick up your pencil and start writing.

You don’t really know how much time passes between the two of you. It could’ve been only thirty minutes; it could’ve been a couple hours. But you begin to find solace with the rhythm of the graphite sliding across your paper, your mind too occupied with recalling lecture notes and your ears too filled with the sound of your pencil scurrying across the print to register anything on Aomine’s end. At last, you finish the last short-answer question on the page, and you gently drop your pencil as your body finally releases all the pent-up tension. Shifting your seating position slightly, you dare to take a peek at the ace of Teiko…

… only to find that his eyes were on you.

Both of you jump and look away at the unexpected shared eye contact, both equally mortified that the other had caught each other staring.

“S-Sorry…” you mumble, “I was just checking on you after I was done with work on my end…”

“Tch… you got too quiet, so I thought you got replaced or somethin’...” he trails off before he goes back to his usual cocky self. “Seeing your ugly face though was more than enough proof that you’re still here.”

You gape at him. “Eh?! What’s that supposed to mean, Ahomine!? Like you’re one to talk, stupid!”

He lazily blinks before putting a pinky in his ear to further irritate you. “Dunno, whenever you’re here, you usually get steam coming out of your nose, like some folklore monster.”

“What?!” you gasp. “I do not!”

“Just like that.”

“Geez…!” you click your tongue, turning away from him to disengage from the banter. “I might have an ugly face, but your nasty attitude won’t get you anyone either, idiot.”

“So what?” he shrugs languidly. “All I need is Horikita Mai-chan, anyways.”

You involuntarily grimace at his serious tone… even if there was (or so you hope) a slight chance that he’s just joking. Thankfully, your face was already turned away for him to notice.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, trying to sound casual. “All those magazines are pretty self-explanatory, y’know.” You then nod your head in his direction, referring to a few scattered booklets strewn around his legs. Turning away, you stretch your legs out, put your things back in your bag, and get up to stand with one final stretch.

“You’re leavin’ already?” he raises a brow at your sudden movement.

“You know that sitting on cement like that for so long isn’t ideal for studying,” you half-chide, inwardly thankful that coming up with excuses has become much easier lately. “I’m probably gonna head home right now before it gets too dark. Are you really gonna stay here all day?”

“I’m too tired to move.”

“You’re so childish, you know that?” You give a small laugh at his antics. “Well, do whatever you need to do. I’ll be on my way. Seeya.”

You skip a bit, eager that you get to escape without raising any suspicions. Aomine might not excel academically, but he isn’t stupid… quite the opposite, in fact. You often get annoyed at how sharp he gets for the most random situations.

“Oi.”

You’re on the first ladder step going down when he calls out, freezing as you grip the sides of the ladder. You watch him get up into a comfortable sitting position, before he looks at you for a bit.

“Er… did you want something?” you tilt your head in slight confusion.

“Never mind,” he sighs. “... Had something on my mind, then forgot. Make me a bento for tomorrow, yeah?”

“He averts his gaze when he lies,” Kuroko said.

You were walking home together, deciding that visiting the convenience store for a quick snack would be a good detour.

“Who?” you stopped licking your ice pop to look at Kuroko’s stare boring into you.

“Aomine-kun.”

“Eh? Why are you telling me this?” you raised a brow at the odd turn of conversation.

He only gave you a knowing look that you couldn’t completely understand before he replied: “I noticed he had this habit recently, and I was wondering if you also noticed it too, seeing that you guys hang out a lot, (l/n)-san. Even if we grew distant, he’s still an important friend to me, so I was hoping if you knew something that was possibly troubling him. I did tell him that I wasn’t going to make him tell me anything he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“No,” you shook your head. “But I’ll keep your words in mind.”

“Thank you.” He smiled. “If you ever have something that’s troubling you, you can come talk to me. You’re my friend, too.”

He’s not looking at you.

You open your mouth to ask what he was about to say, but you close it just as quickly. It’s not your business to prod, after all. Your own gaze skids away while your lips pressed together.

“Well, then…” you say. “If that’s all, then I’ll be off. No promises on the bento, though.”

The sound of metal squeaking and clothes rustling follow your descent down the ladder before metal screeches echo as you open and close the door of the rooftop entrance.

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

Aomine sighs loudly in annoyance before he goes back to indulging everything Horikita Mai had to offer in the 27th volume special.

———

[January 22nd]

“What did I say about taking (y/n)-chan’s food?!” Momoi trails after Aomine with a scowl as he continues to walk unbothered. “This is the 5th day in a row!”

“Is it really a problem if she lets me?” Aomine holds your bento box in one hand while covering his face with the other as he yawns. “You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“You really don’t understand the heart of a lady—ugh! I swear, you’re as dumb as a rock!”

“Whatever.”

Momoi harshly knits her brows at his apathetic attitude towards you. What should she do? Should she tell you? Should she keep pushing Aomine to be honest? She swallows before deciding it best to keep quiet. But her heart hammers in fear of witnessing another friendship between you, Aomine, and herself crumbling before her eyes again.

Dai-chan… she thinks, looking at his back as he munches on your onigiri. Stop being an idiot for once, would you?

———

[March 1st]

“Thanks,” he says, immediately snatching your bento box out of your hands the moment you pulled it out of your bag.

“What the hell?!” you glare at him, putting your hands to your hips.

“I know you packed an extra one, (y/n). Don’t get mad at me now.” He merely picks up the chopsticks before digging into the tempura. “Ish perrty good shrimp.”

You widen your eyes, forgetting completely to be angry at the sight of Aomine genuinely enjoying your cooking. You avert your gaze at the compliment. “T-Thanks…”

Aomine looks at you, the you that has grown to become compliant and bashful in his presence recently.

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

He goes back to finishing your lunch instead of thinking about the difficult things. A part of him likes the current dynamic you two share recently, a nice balance between entertaining banter, peaceful privacy (especially when you stopped yapping his ear off as of late), and free food. Saying the things that Momoi wants him to say could ruin everything you two had. So he doesn’t say anything.

Since when did you start making him lunch every day without him saying anything? It’s been a month since this started, ever since he made that one off-comment about making him lunch to throw you off from his uncharacteristic silence. You never complained that it was too much work, and you certainly never slacked off on your craft when it came to your bento boxes. Every lunch he’s eaten from you was carefully curated and cooked to near perfection.

It’s unfair for you, he knew. What would he say though? He’s never been one with words at all. He frowns.

“Something wrong with my lunch?” you tease, and he looks up to see you staring at him so fondly.

Quit looking at me like that…

“Tch, it’s edible enough,” he slightly sulks at your good-natured tease before shoving another helping into his mouth.

“Say,” you begin, eagerly leaning forward to get his attention. “What school are you thinking of enrolling in a couple weeks?”

“None of your business,” he snorts, already satisfied at seeing your fond, sappy look turning into a more combative expression. There it is.

“Oh come on!” you insist. “So you already chose a school without telling me? Let me guess, it’s one of those… Kings of… schools—the really strong schools for basketball?”

“Three Kings of Tokyo,” he corrects you. “Nah.”

“Tell me,” you huff with your arms crossed. “Or I’m not making you bento anymore, and you can starve to death.”

“Geez, I was about to tell you anyways,” he drawls, already finishing the last bite. “That one school called Touou.”

“Huh? But I’ve never really heard of that school from anywhere though, especially for basketball.”

“Yeah, got an offer, though.”

“Oh…” you hum, packing away your own lunch into your bag. “If that’s the case, I might consider that school too, then.”

“Hah?” He raises a brow. “Why?” He puts his utensils down to look at your figure.

“Uh…” you mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Someone’s gotta have to keep you in check, right? Besides, I personally don’t have any idea where to go yet either.”

“If you’re just coming to tag along with me,” Aomine begins, narrowing his eyes. “Forget it. Satsuki is already coming with me, no matter how much I tell her to buzz off. I don’t need another person to nag me 24/7.”

“But—!” you counter, raising your eyes to meet his own. “How are you gonna manage with lunch and all?”

“I’m not a kid, (y/n), and you know that,” he coolly responds. “They have cafeterias, vending machines, and fast food spots. I can manage without you.”

“Um, even so…” you argue, though your voice dwindles at his strong attempts of pushing you away. You feel uneasy at the inevitable argument that’s to come right around the corner. “I’m not as easy to get rid of either like Momoi, you know that more than anyone, too.”

Goddamn it, why were you so stubborn at the wrong times? Can’t you take a hint?

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

“Look…” he sighs, eyes looking straight at you to convey his message across. “I know you like me, and all. But you’re not my type. I don’t see you that way.”

But even though he tries his damn hardest to look at you, he can’t. He chickens out at the last sentence and looks away.

“I-I… I know… I’ve known,” you weakly reply. “But staying by your side as friends is more than what I can ask for. I value our friendship more than anything else.”

“And I’m not the guy for you, either,” he carefully continues. “Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but choose a school for your own good—”

“Who are you to decide whether or not you’re good for me?” you snap, visibly frustrated at the turn of events. Weren’t you two just enjoying each other’s presence a few minutes ago? Was it all in your head? “I make the choice of whether or not I want to spend time with you! And you know how persistent I can be… I’m sure Touou has a really good curriculum and selection of extracurriculars, too, I can make it work—”

“You’re an actual dumbass,” he hisses, his short temper getting the better of him after you went hostile on him. How could you not see his point? “How does this shit keep flying over your head?”

You flinch, the feeling so familiar to the time he lashed out on you at the rooftop. He’s glaring into your widened eyes, but he doesn’t care right now, the words he’s been struggling to form and tell you for months now flowing out of him with no filter. If he only realized you liked him a couple months back, how long have you actually liked him? A year? More than that? The adrenaline right now is the only crutch in giving him the courage to give you some type of closure you deserved, even if a part of him hates to see you upset.

“... The hell’s that supposed to mean…?” Your voice cracks at the end, and your hands grip the straps of your book bag so hard they’re shaking.

Where’s the boy I liked from 2 years ago?

“I mean exactly what I said,” he spits out, his own frown further deepening into a visible crease on his face. “Look, (y/n), you can’t keep tailing after me forever. That’s hella annoying.”

“What about Momoi…?” you whisper. “I get that you’re childhood friends, but how come you always let her stay by your side?”

“Look,” he shoots back. “Satsuki is different—”

“Aomine-kuuuun!” Momoi’s voice rings across campus, and Aomine whirls around to see her running to him at breakneck speed. “Hey, hey! There’s a new coffee shop around the corner! We should totally try it together! I’ll even pay for you if you ask nicely enough…”

You stare at the floor, trying to hold back unshed tears by gripping your bag straps even harder. “... Excuse me.”

“Wha–hey!” Aomine turns back to face where he presumed you were at, only to see you gone from his sight.

“... Was that (y/n)-chan?” Momoi shoots a curious glance behind his back.

“Tch, don’t worry about it.” He gives a long, winded sigh before scratching the back of his head. “Just leave her be.”

She only gives a worried look at him before she continues with her prior conversation.

———

[March 4th]

You avoid him for the next few days… that much he expects. He’ll never say it out loud, but he finds it sort of amusing to see you try to keep yourself completely hidden from him. The way you duck when you see him; the way you scramble to grab your belongings before you book it; the way you try to run so fast to escape his line of vision when he can easily catch up to you if he just jogs. But he doesn’t.

Because even though he’s a bit bummed about what happened the other day, he now doesn’t feel the pressure to stick around you just to build up his courage to finally give you that closure.

It feels quite nice to not have any obligations and demands expected of Momoi or you. Naps have never been so peaceful now that his sense of conscientiousness has been relieved. Other than Momoi occasionally bothering him, but that’s manageable… he’s quite used to that.

He’s not 100% used to not seeing you around him every day, though.

It’s probably for the best.

Still, maybe he was too harsh on you (like always). But there’s no way in hell he’s going to march up to you and grab your arm while you’re running and then apologize. That might give you the wrong idea—

“Pssst, hey, (y/n)-san seems distant from Aomine, lately.” A small group of people huddled around a desk, surrounding a guy sitting on it, who appears to be the source of the voice.

“Weird, isn’t it? She follows him around every day, and he’s always guarding her or something.”

Bullshit. He doesn’t “guard” her—his resting bitch face and his ridiculous athletic build have always been advantageous for both (y/n) and Momoi to repel off the creeps. Not that he cared. It’s only when they get so noisy and too close in his bubble that he gives them verbal threats of violence. And that almost always works to scare them away.

“Think I can have a chance with her this time?”

“I dunno… (y/n)’s not the passive type to go along with it. I mean how else could she deal with Aomine every day?”

“... You’re right.”

“I mean… there’s Momoi…”

Aomine sighs. They really have nothing better to do, huh.

They’re right that they’re the type of people (y/n) wouldn’t like in the slightest. He doesn’t know what you see in him, but at least your standards aren’t abysmally low where you’d happily go along with one of them. He scoffs to himself in a way to mock their desperate attempts.

They don’t know what’s coming to them if they actually were serious about dating her. Avoiding her romantic advances is like dodging a bullet, actually.

He kinda misses your cooking, though. His self-assured grin instantly flips into a frown at the stray thought.

———

[March 5th]

Imagine his unadulterated shock when he sees you casually walk up to his desk and drop a wrapped package of (what he assumes) his bento box the next day.

“What,” you dryly say. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“... Whatever.” He merely eyes the lunch before he carefully tries to get a read on your face. Holy shit, you look awful, eyes slightly puffy probably from all the crying you did behind closed doors. He chooses not to acknowledge the weird pang his heart does at the sight of you.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” you goad, though you sound a bit too exhausted to be provoking. “At least, until we graduate and go into our high schools, let me continue making lunch for you. As… a symbol of our… good friendship.” You hesitate to try to find the right phrasing for the last part… Now that you really thought about it these past few days… were you two really friends? You just bothered and tagged along with Aomine your entire three years here at Teiko, and you always tried to cater your schedule and interests around him. Here you were, trying to understand him as best as you can.

Did he even try to understand me at all the entire time we’ve known each other?

“... What’s your game?” he says, clearly thrown off guard, He opts to look away from you to stare at the window by his desk. “... Did I not make it clear last time?”

“Yeah, yeah… I know.” You give a sad smile before your grin grows unnaturally wider to hide your vulnerabilities. “You were unusually honest. So honest, it threw me off.”

No more… I’m not opening my heart to you any longer.

“Are you here to just embarrass me or something for revenge?”

“No one has that type of deplorable thinking like you,” you chastise, seemingly back to your old self. “Besides, we’re friends, first and foremost, and I can’t ignore a friend in need. You were probably starving yourself like an idiot, or something.”

Aomine was still facing the windowsill, but at your words, his eyes flitted to look at you once more. “... You sound like Tetsu.”

“Oh wow!” you gasp, putting a hand to your mouth in surprise. “How’d you know we’re dating?”

He whips his head to you. “What?! What the hell are you talking about?—”

“Kidding,” you interrupt him before he gets too explosive on you. “You can’t be that much of an idiot to not be able to call out that bluff.”

“Screw off.”

He can only click his tongue in absolute annoyance as he hears you laugh to yourself walking out of the room before the school bell rings.

Yeah, you're definitely back to your normal self.

He’s a bit reassured that he’ll still have you in his life.

———

[March 15th]

It’s been two weeks since Aomine completely crushed your hopes of a romantic relationship with him. You don’t feel okay, not at all, but you’re eagerly counting down the days before you can go to Seirin with Kuroko.

And no, you never planned to go in order to be by Kuroko’s side. It was a mere coincidence that you found out.

[March 8th]

“(l/n)-san, what’s wrong?” Kuroko sipped his vanilla shake, popping up out of nowhere while you were in the middle dwelling in your negative thoughts alone at your table. Your burger was left half-eaten, and your fries got cold.

“EEP!” You were shocked out of your daze, jumping in your seat. You eyed a worried Kuroko across the table. “Ah, geez, it’s just you. When’d you get here?”

“For a while actually,” he admitted. “I first called out your name from afar, but it didn’t seem like you noticed me.”

“Well,” you sweatdropped. “I don’t think I would’ve noticed you anyways under any other circumstances…”

“When you’re upset…” Kuroko said. “You have your own habit of looking down, whether it’s your lap, the floor, or what’s in front of you.”

“Leave it up to you to easily figure that out,” you sighed. “You’re always with me when I’m thinking about something dumb or just messed up. Sorry that you constantly have to deal with that.”

“It’s not a problem, (l/n)-san.”

“Yeah…” you mumbled. “So, I’m gonna get straight to the point… Aomine knew he liked me, and yeah, it didn’t end well…”

“Ah.”

“Don’t worry, though,” you reassured him. “I knew all along that it would… end up this way.”

“... Even if you hoped for more?”

“I can’t help that, can I?” you sighed again. “Anyways, right now, I was thinking about what I want to do after I graduate from Teiko… I never thought about these things like that. ‘Cause, you know, I thought I could figure things out on the go while being by both Aomine’s side… but I guess he’s right that I shouldn’t mindlessly follow him everywhere… and Momoi has her own plans of going to Touou as their basketball manager. I should leave those two be.”

Kuroko stayed silent for you to continue.

“Seirin seems like a good school… It’s new, but it has really good facilities, and even if I don’t know what to do, it seems like it can give lots of good opportunities, and if anything, it can give me a fresh start.”

Kuroko slightly widened his eyes. You noticed and tilted your head for him to explain his reaction.

“I’m also going to attend Seirin.”

“E-Eh?!! That’s a scary coincidence… What’s your reason for picking it?”

“... They seem to have a good basketball team,” he quietly replied, his eyes looking as if they’re looking so far back. “I like their teamplay. I’ve been wanting to be in that type of team for a long time.”

“I see…” you murmured. For a moment, you noticed Kuroko’s pained look… but remembering Aomine’s words about being nosy, you decided not to press into it.

You give a long sigh again. And here you thought that you can end your last year at Teiko well and happily. Right now, you would usually look for Aomine in his usual spots: Maji Burger, the school rooftop, or the local park. It’s different now. Sitting on an empty table outside to finish up the rest of those pesky kanji worksheets, you finally truly take in your surroundings… the trees starting to bloom this time… the refreshing breeze… and white noise of students excitedly talking to each other as they pass by buildings… but there are no longer the therapeutic sounds of page flips next to you as Aomine slouches to get himself comfortable on the concrete. Though, you pretend you’re next to him as you continue to somehow hear Aomine give an occasional hum of approval at whatever filthy page he feasted his eyes on.

Once again, the knowledge of the content inside those pages you imagined isn’t therapeutic in the slightest.

It hurts.

And there’s no way you can focus on the questions, not when thoughts of Aomine continue to pervade and fill up every damn crevice—every crook and cranny—of your mind.

Were you missing something? Were you not pretty enough? Were you not relatable enough? Was there another way for Aomine to consider seeing you as a romantic partner?

For the first time, you really let the implications of Aomine’s words sink in… If you had more agency—more independence—in the first place, would he have considered letting you tag along to Touou? What if… you had more knowledge on basketball like Momoi?—

“(y/n)-chan…!”

A familiar, chirpy voice breaks you out of your wallow in self-pity and a flash of pink fills your vision. Of course your thoughts accidentally summoned her here, you wrly think. Momoi represented the complete opposite of your current emotional state, flouncing around quite cheerfully to grab your attention. Though, if you are completely honest, she has the same look of sorrow in her eyes similar to Kuroko’s.

“What’s wrong, Momoi?” you ask, giving her a reassuring smile to encourage her to share her potential troubles.

“Eh…? What’s wrong with me?” she frowns in confusion.

“You look a bit down, that’s all. You and Kuroko share the same look in your eyes sometimes.”

“Oh…” she averts her gaze. Normally, she would squeal about having something in common with her “true love,” but she takes on a somber note of acknowledgment. “I guess you can say that… but more importantly!” She directs the subject of conversation to you. “You! (y/n)-chan! You look like you need more comfort than me.”

She takes a seat next to you and eyes at your worksheets, noting the sporadic dried splotches across the paper. You’ve been crying.

“I guess it takes a sad person to know another one,” you joke, though your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Momoi frowns at her only friend (besides the GoM) in such a distressed state, even if she knows you’re actively trying to hide it.

“It’s about Dai-chan, isn’t it?”

“Ah…” you look down at your worksheets. “So you knew.”

“Sorry…” she murmurs. “I told him to be gentle and honest with you.”

“Well he certainly gave me the latter,” you softly laugh. “Hey, hey… there’s no need to be down for my sake.” You immediately reach out to gently ruffle her hair with a head pat. She widens her eyes at the unexpected physical contact.

“Sorry, did I push my boundaries?”

“No, no…!” she denies, shaking her head to reassure you. “You reminded me of Tetsu-kun right now… that’s all.”

“Huh, I guess he’s been rubbing off on me,” you muse. A thought comes to you. “Actually, can I ask you something?”

“Eh?” She blinks. “Sure, I’ll try my best to answer whatever it is.”

You finally look up to face Momoi head on. “Was I ever too overbearing on Aomine? I wonder if I crossed any boundaries with him at any point. If you noticed anything at any point, please tell me everything.”

“No,” she firmly reassures. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all. Dai-chan is the real idiot here. You’ve only done what’s best for him, and I would’ve done the same in your place.”

“Pfft, he always calls us nagging grandmas, doesn’t he?”

“Right? He has no tact, at all!” Momoi huffs, puffing out her cheeks in a pout. “Despite all that, he cares for you, (y/n)-chan. I’m serious. Even if he’ll never admit it like the idiot that he is.”

You give a rueful smile. “Thank you, Momoi.”

Turning away from Momoi, you look up at the trees, so full of flowers that it fills the void in your heart by gazing at them. You sense that she’s also doing the same.

“... Hey, Momoi?”

“... yes?”

“You love Kuroko, don’t you?” You turn back to face Momoi. She gives an innocent simper at the mere mention of his name.

“I do. But even though he’s not the type to date, I want to be by his side.”

You smile too, her joy too contagious to ignore, but that smile somewhat deflates when your thoughts go back to Aomine against your will.

“Hey… how do you love someone who doesn’t love you back?”

She pauses and takes in the many implications of your question. “I don’t know,” she admits. “It just happens, you can’t always control it… I’ll wait for Tetsu-kun, even if it’s the most idiotic thing to do. I just can’t help it. That’s what love is, I think.”

“I see…”

“It’s not for everyone. Loving someone like that.”

“I thought I could do that…” Your whisper comes out so hoarse. “With Aomine—I thought… as long as I got to be by his side, I wouldn’t ask for more… but it hurts to go back to being friends—it hurts to see him… I don’t want to see him anymore.” The last part of your confession ends up being a choked sob.

“Shhh…” she hushes you to console you. “It’s okay, it’s good to cry it out.” She rubs down your back as tears endlessly plop onto your worksheets, no doubt ruined by now.

“Please… please don’t tell—”

“I won’t tell anything to Dai-chan… I promise.”

Dai-chan… were you truly honest with (y/n)-chan?

———

[April 6th]

“Aomine-kun! There you are! Where were you? Sheesh, we don’t want to miss the entrance ceremony!”

Aomine towers over the crowd, his eyes clearly scanning—looking—for something amidst the countless students walking around and socializing amongst one another. Even as Momoi tugs on his new uniform blazer (not properly worn, no doubt) to get him to walk, he stands to face the front gates expectantly.

“... Where’s (y/n)?”

“Huh?” Momoi looks at Aomine like he grew three legs. “She’s not at Touou, Ahomine. What are you even talking about?”

“... Thought she woulda tailed me here too.”

“You told her off to choose a different school!”

“I did not,” he grunts. “I told her to choose a school for a reason that’s not on me. Besides, my words never stopped her from annoying me all the time… Wait, when did you hear me say that?”

“You were shouting at her that day! Anybody nearby could’ve heard that!” She glares at him. “And well, those words of yours certainly stopped her now. Do you hear yourself right now?”

“The hell…” he ignores Momoi and curses, kicking the gravel before lazily walking with his hands in his pockets to his assigned seat for the ceremony. Of course, Momoi tails after him despite being pissed off.

Words from all the speeches from the faculty and student alumni went in one ear out the other for him in a continuous slur of nonsense. His body goes on autopilot, standing and sitting when everyone else does the same, while he continues to scan over the hundreds of heads, thinking he must’ve missed your dumbass by mistake. Of course he notices Momoi sitting a short distance away from him; the way everyone ogles at her is obnoxiously contagious and far from discreet.

But where are you?

———

[April 10th]

“... Do you mind if…” you hesitate, turning to Kuroko after he signs his name on the basketball club interest form. “... You teach me more about the sport?”

Kuroko looks at you curiously at your question, and you quickly clarify yourself. “It’s not for Aomine’s sake, or anyone else’s for the matter. I just want to watch a few of your practices, and things like that… it might be fun… I wanna try something new.” You give a small smile, albeit nervously. “I won’t be in the way, I promise—even if I don’t know what’ll be happening most of the time—”

“I’ll ask the coach when the time comes,” Kuroko reassures you, his own smile mirroring your own growing grin at his answer.

“Alrighty!” you cheer. You stop yourself when you see a student who easily towered over everyone at the basketball club booth. “What the… that guy’s a high school student?!”

“Oh,” Kuroko turns to where you were pointing. “He seems like someone with a hot temper.”

“Reminds me of a certain someone, doesn’t he, Kuroko…?” You give a soft elbow jab and a playful lilt, though both of you knew you were both still recovering from the emotional blows from last year.

He quietly nods before he follows you to the other club booths nearby.

———

[April 20th]

“Where did Kuroko go…!” You’re breathless at the bench, watching the game between Seirin and Kaijo. This is just a practice game? It’s way too intense to be considered such.

Riko, amused at your reactions, gladly explains what’s going down on the courts as it happens. “Kuroko’s greatest strength is using his lack of presence for his misdirection—”

“And wait—Kagami is—!” You near-completely ignored Riko’s explanation when Kagami steals the show with a dunk, completely leaving you in awe with his impossible vertical. “What kind of person jumps that high… what the hell?” She merely chuckles with a hand to her lips before she turns her full attention back to the game.

Kise experiences his first taste of defeat soon enough.

You ignore the way your heart flipped when Kagami dunked the final basket on Kaijo.

———

[May 23rd]

Aomine lays serenely on the rooftop, but his mind is far from relaxed. Tomorrow is the day Touou would crush Seirin in the Inter-High preliminaries.

… Seirin, huh.

He remembers when Momoi broke the news to him when they walked home together after the entrance ceremony. Thinking about it still pisses him off—he can’t help it though, he can’t stop thinking about it… his mind involuntarily plays that conversation in his head over and over. No amount of porn magazines could bury the dull thuds in his chest when he thinks about you.

[April 6th]

“She’s at Seirin right now.”

“What?!” His eyes slightly widened as he stopped walking to incredulously look at her. “You’re seriously pullin’ my leg right now, Satsuki.”

“I would totally yank your stupid legs if I could, Ahomine,” she petulantly grumbled. “But I’m telling the truth. She told me before we went off on our spring break when we said our goodbyes to each other. I told her I was going to miss her, and I also told her to take care of Tetsu-kun for me and let me know if anything happened over there.”

What the hell? When did you get close to Satsuki enough to confide in her? How come he didn’t hear shit from you?

“Hah, so you’re telling me she’s tailing Tetsu now that she can't follow me?” He gave a derisive snort, not liking the development of your relationship with Kuroko for some reason. Momoi gave him that knowing look of admonishment.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, idiot! One! They don’t see each other like that, and two! How (y/n)-chan decided on her school is none of our business. I’m sure she has her own reasons, and you have no right to judge her at all!”

Aomine stared at Momoi, who’s usually so compliant to his demands and harsh words. To see her stick up for you so adamantly was more than surprising. He furrowed his brows before walking ahead of her in a feeble attempt to cut the conversation short.

“Tch… I know that already…”

He releases a heavy sigh. His ego wouldn’t allow him to simply go up to Kuroko and ask about your wellbeing, let alone asking him to set up a time and place for him to meet up with you. What were you doing over there right now? Were you doing okay? Are there random people harassing you or bothering you now that he’s not there with you to scare them off?

He slings his arm over his eyes and sighs again.

“... This is annoying. I’m tired…”

God, it sucks so bad, but he really misses your lunches. Satsuki’s atrocious cooking is still lethal to this day, and Sakurai’s octo-dogs he sometimes steals only measures up to a fraction of the taste of your own octo-dogs.

He’s been hallucinating for a bit—even while he naps, he’s sworn that he always hears pencil scribblings and annoying sighs nearby. He swears that it’s you, that you’re actually enrolled in Touou and that somehow, you roped Momoi into agreeing into this sick prank to get back at him for all the shit he’s done to her all these years. He swears he can hear you muttering the questions out loud before you deftly solve them. He swears he can hear you nagging him to practice even if you haven’t had a clue what basketball entails.

What the hell… He thought that you two would still be friends—attached to the hip, even if a romantic relationship was out of the question. He supposes that it’s a bit naive on his end to think that. Damn it, damn it… Seirin isn’t that far from Touou either… wouldn’t you normally find the way and time to stop by and annoy him like there’s no tomorrow, anyways?

———

[August 14th]

“Kuroko, who do you think would win?”

“I don’t know,” he replies. “This is the first time I’ve seen two Generation of Miracles starters play against each other… However, Aomine-kun inspired Kise-kun to play basketball.”

“Really?” Kagami turns to him in surprise. You stand nearby, listening to Kuroko’s words carefully. After all, they pertained to Aomine.

“They used to play one-on-one a lot, but Kise-kun has never won.”

Aomine… was THAT good? You blink in surprise, remembering about Seirin’s practice match against Kaijo before you turn your attention back on the court. Well, you shouldn’t be that surprised, considering that the Seirin returned with a loss against Touou in the preliminaries… before getting eliminated altogether later on. Knowing how amazing Kagami and Kuroko are at basketball… if they both got single-handedly defeated by the ace of Touou, you shouldn’t doubt Kuroko’s words about Aomine’s strength. You weren’t there to watch that game after all.

You feel a warm, heavy hand pushing on top of your head.

“H-Hey!”

“You have a scary look on your face that I almost mistook you for Aomine,” Kagami says quite seriously, though if you squint, you swear that he’s teasing you. Irk marks pop onto your temples as you try to shoo his hand off of you.

“Oh—come on! Lay off, will you? I do not have a scary face! If anything, it’s you!”

“The hell do you mean by that?!”

“I mean exactly what I said, Kagamidiot!”

Kuroko, unbeknownst to anyone, observes your interaction with Kagami with the faintest smile before turning his attention to see the referee starting the jump ball.

“Everyone, it’s starting.”

———

[December 7th]

He… he lost.

He finally lost.

Aomine stares at Kuroko and Kagami, still reeling from the foreign sensation of defeat creeping into him.

“Why are you acting like it’s all over?” Aomine snaps out of his daze to focus on Kagami. “Things are just getting started. Let’s play again. I’ll take you on.”

Aomine stands there at a loss for words until he scoffs at him, but if anyone was to look at Aomine right now, they would say he’s relieved and pleased to hear those words. “Shut up, idiot.”

“Aomine-kun…” Kuroko calls out, bringing Aomine’s attention from Kagami to his former “shadow.” A moment of reflection is shared between the two of them before Aomine finally acknowledges Kuroko’s style of basketball.

“You win, Tetsu.”

Kuroko contemplates for a bit before opening his mouth. “Can I ask you for a favor?” Kuroko raises his hand in a fist bump before Aomine makes a noise for him to continue. “You still haven’t returned my fist bump.”

“What?” he retorts, slightly flustered at the sudden request. “Who cares about that?”

“No,” Kuroko says, deadpan as ever. “Try putting yourself in the shoes of the ignored.” Aomine gives a long look, hesitant and unsure before he finally relents.

“Fine. This is the last time though… Next time, I’ll win.”

“Okay.”

While still holding the fist bump, Aomine finally brings himself to ask the question plaguing in his mind for the past couple months: “Hey… is it true that (y/n) is in Seirin?”

Kuroko widens his eyes in momentary surprise before he carefully responds. “Yes, she’s actually been cheering us on these past couple months. She’s somewhere in the stands right now. Though, I’m not sure where.”

“I see…” The ace of Touou separates from the fist bump first and turns to get ready for the team lineup, looking rather thoughtful.

Kagami raises a brow at the question that came out of seemingly nowhere for someone like Aomine, but in truth, he knew. You told him everything about what happened between you and Aomine a couple weeks ago while shedding tears.

“There’s nothing wrong with you at all.”

“Eh?” You attempted to wipe the last of your tears before you looked at Kagami to see his reaction. He still could see how red your eyes were even despite trying to remain unbothered about the ordeal. He remembered how distraught you were retelling your past friendship with him… and how you used to like him. How did you even manage to think that you weren’t pretty enough? Helpful enough? And how did you manage to believe yourself to be the most annoying person in the world? Remembering what you said made him boil.

“I can’t believe that guy’s full of it even outside of basketball, that idiot!”

“Honestly…” you gave a sardonic smile to mock your own weakness. “What do you mean?”

“Huh? Well…” He looked away with a comical pout before facing you again. “If I was him, I wouldn’t take you for granted like that. Who the hell would read dirty magazines in broad daylight like that? Seriously, it’s so funny I could bust a spleen!” His response took on a more mocking tone at the end, and he noticed your eyes taking on an amused light at his reaction.

“Didn’t Kuroko correct you that it’s ‘gut,’ and not a ‘spleen’ way back months ago?”

“What? It’s the same thing.” He crossed his arms with a sigh before he looked at your face again, satisfied to see you slightly cheered up. “Anyways, if I ever become like that type of guy, feel free to hit me or something.”

“The way you went and above at being pissed for my sake, I don’t think I’d have to worry about that, Kagami.” Your smile grew to be teasing and affectionate, and his heart started to race at the sight of it.

“Uh—well…” Kagami averted his gaze, scratching his cheek to hide his flushed cheeks. “It’s just… I think you’re fine the way you are.”

You widened your eyes at his words.

“Really…?”

His heart broke at how truly surprised you were at his candor. He meant it; he really did, and it wasn’t fair for you to live like this just because some prick didn’t have the balls to be nice to you, something you deserved again and again.

“I’ll wake that idiot up for you, I swear it.”

You started laughing at him, catching him completely off-guard as his face started heating up even more. “What—hey! What the hell’s so funny?! I’m trying to be serious!”

“Ah…” you breathed out, wiping out the last of your tears after doubling over for a few minutes. “Don’t worry, Kagami. I believe in you. Beat his ass in the Winter Cup for me, yeah?”

Kagami cleared his throat before he mustered up the courage to give you a gentle head pat (albeit very clumsily).

“Y-Yeah…”

Kagami frowns, wondering if you and Aomine will ever sort things out after this game. Part of him worries that your next encounter with him wouldn’t go very smoothly, knowing how complicated Aomine is as an individual.

Kuroko looks at the floor before continuing, almost as if he read Kagami’s mind. “We should also move to line up, Kagami.”

“... Yeah.”

———

[December 8th]

“Shopping is such a damn pain,” Aomine yawns, holding his box of new basketball shoes under his arm. Momoi, of course, is already next to him ready to scold him into oblivion.

“Did you forget that your feet are humongous? Of course the shops wouldn’t have your size,” she sighs at his childish attitude. “Now you’re going to try this new pastry shop with me! You promised to come with me if I went with you to shop for your shoes.”

“I don’t remember promising anything.”

“Meanie! You did! Now don’t be like that and wait here! I’m going to check the lines and available tables.” And before Aomine can wedge another complaint in, Momoi dashes like her life was on the line, clearly risking everything for a chance to taste the strawberry mille-feuille that the shop was famous for.

Geez… he mentally sighs before deciding to look for a place to sit. She better hurry her ass up.

Luckily for him, there’s a spare empty bench near some trees despite the busy crowds. Taking the opportunity, he plops himself down while settling his shoe box next to him. He looks at the box for a moment. He finally has a rival now, huh. Seirin… he wonders how long it’s been since he last saw you… a couple months? Actually… it’s been almost a year.

Indulging Horikita Mai-chan feels off now, and indulging even more of her featured volumes made him feel worse than if he didn’t read any of them to begin with. The temptation to pick up a new racy issue has declined drastically, and Wakamatsu’s threats of burning them are becoming less dire as the days go by. If he actually burned them now, he probably would remain just as unphased and still not show up to practice. Well, now he’ll consider showing up to practice with or without the threats anyways, now that Kagami can keep him on his toes.

He gives a rueful smile. You’re always meddling in his affairs and ruining the consistent routines he’s set up for himself, even if you’re not physically by his side. That’s just like you to ruin him like this. He frowns. Or maybe you’re doing this on purpose as karma for him being an asshole to you all this time. Maybe you’re an Imayoshi, and you’re playing him like a fiddle?

Nah, he thinks, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. You’re too much of an idiot to think like that. You’re too easy to read, (y/n).

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his navy puffer jacket, and he leans forward on the bench with a long exhale. This isn’t good, he’s been thinking about you way too damn much. It’s actually concerning. Is it because he feels bad about chasing you off? Is it because of the uncertainty of his current standing with you in terms of your friendship? Maybe.

He amended his friendship with Kuroko through basketball, something that he’s very comfortable in navigating about. But you? How is he going to approach you?

He’s too much of a coward to stop by Seirin and look for you and get the answers, though.

“Your grades are absolutely atrocious, what the hell? How are you gonna fare well on the final exams for the semester?”

“That’s… we’ll worry about that when the time… comes.”

“Wrong answer! We can’t have you failing when you’re just a first year!”

“Oh come on, I still have two more years to pick up my slack, don’t I?”

Aomine slightly perks up at the familiar voices, the conversation breaking him out of his own thoughts. He freezes when he sees you.

The sight of you sends his own heart into a frenzy, his heart pounding against his chest so incessantly—painfully. The adrenaline he accumulated from his last game is no match for the compressions he feels at this very moment. Is it because he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year that he feels this way? You look different—older for sure—and definitely just as expressive as you were back in Teiko. You’re wearing your casual clothes and the biggest smile he’s seen from you yet.

But the person who’s making you smile like that isn’t him. His eyes finally stop focusing on you to look at the bigger picture in front of him. His eyes widen further when he registers that it’s none other than Kagami.

“Oh come on,” Kagami sighs at your pout. “Don’t be like that…”

“Look, I’ll even offer you tutoring free of charge, but you can’t neglect your studies.”

“Fine, fine…” Kagami ruffles your hair to appease you. “Just know I’m not that good with these types of things. You’re gonna have to take it easy with me.”

“Obviously! Did you think I was gonna bust out a master theory textbook on you? I’m not heartless! Honestly…” You punch his arm before you smile at him. “Before we get going, how’s your legs? You haven’t pushed yourself too much, have you?”

“Nah, I’m okay now.” He sweatdrops when he sees you raising your brow in suspicion. “I’m serious this time!”

“Pffft,” you snicker at how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. “How about to celebrate your win, we can go try that new pastry shop down the street? I heard the strawberry mille-feuille is really good there… maybe we can both try our hands in making a homemade recipe after?”

“Huh, I haven’t had that in a while, actually. Sounds pretty good.”

“Actually, what types of desserts do Americans even serve over there? We can save a day where we can bake the team an entire stockpile for them to try? Though, I hope Riko doesn’t somehow tamper them with protein powder…”

It’s comical to see Aomine having his eyes so bugged out of their sockets that they look like they might fall out with a nudge. But he doesn’t care—his mind’s racing so much, overclocking and overworking in trying to connect the dots at the scene he’s trying to register and comprehend.

“Where’s the shop again?” Kagami asks, scanning around for any sign that indicates “sweets” and “baked goods.”

“There.” You point ahead of you in a general direction, and Kagami, taking advantage of his height, easily spots the shop. What catches Aomine’s attention is how you wrap your other hand around his arm. What really bothers him though, is how nonchalant Kagami is at your touch.

“Come on.” Kagami snakes his hand to gently encapsulate your hand, the same one that casually wrapped around his arm moments earlier. Aomine’s breath gets caught in his throat, watching you two like a hawk. Kagami tugs your hand behind him as he leads you through the crowd, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It shouldn’t be natural, though. It shouldn’t be Kagami holding your hand. It should’ve been—

(“And I’m not the guy for you, either.”)

Yeah, Aomine knows that he sure as hell ain’t the guy for you. But Kagami? Of all people? Aomine grits his teeth watching you two. He’s sure as hell that Kagami isn’t the one for you either. He would even rather prefer Kuroko being by your side like this than him… But he can’t deny how Kagami does a better job at making you happier than he himself could ever do. You’re in good hands, and he doesn’t have to worry about any potential asshats bothering you at Seirin, or anywhere for that matter from now on.

So why… Why does his heart continue to pound so hard when he sees how gentle his rival is with you? Why isn’t his chest letting up? Why does he feel like his windpipes are constricted? His mouth is parted like a fish, his body motionless, his new shoes forgotten. He doesn’t move until you’re no longer in his line of vision, completely swallowed up by the crowded lines and mobs of other shoppers.

Did Tetsu know about this?

He finally closes his mouth, allowing himself to swallow, though his mouth is impossibly too heavy and dry to do so comfortably. Still leaned forward, he rests his elbows on his knees, his eyes opting to stare at the cracks and dried gum. His brain’s had enough from all the processing.

What the hell’s wrong with me?

This isn’t like him. You’re dating Kagami. So what? And he’s not a bad guy. He still has you as a friend, and it’s not like he didn’t lose you for good… right?

His body contradicts his rationalizing when his hand tingles against his will… as if it wants to be held by you. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, gritting his teeth before giving a despondent chuckle.

I’m pathetic, aren’t I… all this time, I’ve never realized that…

He sees a flash of your clothes before you disappear around the block, holding your dessert box to-go while still holding hands with Kagami.

… that what I wanted was…

“Dai-chan!” Momoi races to him after emerging from the crowd that you just came out of earlier. He looks up to face her. “I finally got myself their house special! Luckily for you, I got another one before they sold out! Here, be grateful!”

She hands him a daintily packaged box with a fork, and he opens it to face the popular strawberry mille-feuille. He stares at it.

“Uh… is there something wrong?” Momoi tilts her head at his unusual lack of scathing comments, slightly unnerved at his extended silence. Aomine stares at the dessert for a second longer before looking up to see her face contorting into an expression of worry. He averts his gaze.

(“Because I know you’re never honest about your feelings!”)

“... It’s nothing.”

[beomzone]

IVE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS

[tojiified]

Polar opposites! (Sukuna’s Ver.)

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚

The first thing anyone on campus learned about Ryomen Sukuna was simple

Avoid him.

The second thing they learned?

Avoid him harder.

Sukuna was the kind of guy professors dreaded seeing on their attendance sheets. The kind of guy who made freshmen cross the street when they spotted him walking toward them. He wasn’t even trying to be intimidating half the time—he just naturally looked like he was one bad day away from committing a felony.

He was rude.

Arrogant.

Mean for absolutely no reason.

And unfortunately for everyone else, he was also ridiculously attractive… which made things worse.

The frat house he shared with Toji, Choso, and Geto had gained its own reputation because of him. People threw parties there, sure, but they also had entire group chats dedicated to warning others about interacting with Sukuna.

“Don’t ask him for notes.”

“Don’t ask him for directions.”

“Don’t ask him for anything.”

“He called me an idiot for holding a door open for him.”

“He told me my major was useless.”

“He told me my face was annoying…I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HIM.”

So naturally, when the campus sweetheart showed up at the frat house asking for him…

Everyone was… confused.

You stood on the front porch clutching your bag, looking entirely too adorable to be standing in front of this house. The afternoon sunlight caught your smile as you thanked Choso for answering the door.

“I was looking for Sukuna.”

The silence that followed was immediate.

Choso blinked.. “…Sukuna?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

He looked concerned... very concerned.

Behind him, Toji and Geto looked just as concerned as Him.

“…Why?” Choso asked carefully.

You tilted your head.

“Hm?”

“What do you need Sukuna for?”

“Oh.”

You laughed a bit, like that wasn’t the most valid question-

“I just wanted to see him.”

The concern somehow got worse.

Toji finally walked over.

“Kid.”

You looked up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Did he threaten you?”

“…What?”

“Blackmail?”

“No?”

“This some kind of.. group project thing?”

You shook your head.

Geto had now joined the crowd.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“The project.”

“There isn’t a project.”

Toji sighed.

“Look. You’re nice.”

“Thank you?”

“And he’s…” Toji gestured vaguely.

“Evil..” Choso supplied.

“A walking lawsuit..” Geto added.

“A dick.”

You stared at them.

The three men stared back.

Choso crossed his arms.

“Trust us. Whatever you’re doing with or for Sukuna isn’t worth it.”

“Seriously—” Toji said. “Do it alone.”

“Do what alone?” you asked.

“Whatever you got stuck with doin’ with him.”

You looked increasingly confused.

“I think you’re misunderstanding—”

“No, trust us.” Choso interrupted.. “You seem sweet.”

“You are sweet.” Geto corrected.

“And Sukuna isn’t.” Toji added.

“He’ll make you cry.”

“Probably laugh while doing it.”

“Definitely laugh while doing it.”

You opened your mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

“…I’m his girlfriend.”

Silence.

Complete utter silence.

The three stared at you like you’d mentioned bombing their frat house.

You smiled awkwardly.

“…His what?”

You laughed softly. “I’m his girlfriend.”

The three men looked like their souls had temporarily left their bodies.

“No.”

You blinked.

“No?”

“That’s not possible.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

You frowned.

“It literally is.”

Toji looked horrified.

“You’re telling me Ryomen.. has a girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“The Sukuna?”

You nodded.

“The same Sukuna who told a guy his haircut looked like a public health violation?”

“…Probably?”

“The same Sukuna who got banned from two campus clubs in the same week?”

“Maybe?”

“The same Sukuna who called a professor annoying to his face?”

“That sounds like him.”

Nobody spoke, because frankly?

Nothing about this made sense.

You were the nicest person on campus.

Everyone knew you.

You volunteered, you tutored students, you remembered birthdays. You baked cookies for stressed classmates during finals week. You once helped a lost freshman find her dorm and then carried her suitcase up three flights of stairs. Meanwhile Sukuna once told someone their dog was smarter than they were.

The math WAS NOT mathing.

Then the hallway door opened.

Heavy footsteps approached.

And suddenly there he was.

Sukuna.

Tall, Intimidating, covered in tattoos… and looking incredibly annoyed.

“What the hell is taking so—”

He stopped when his eyes landed on you.

Immediately—IMMEDIATELY— His entire expression changed.

The irritation vanished.

Gone…Just gone.

“…There you are.”

Your face brightened.

“Hi Ryo.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I brought you lunch.”

“Lunch?”

You held up a small bag.

“You always forget to eat lunch on gym days.”

“…Oh.”

The giant terrifying man suddenly looked almost embarrassed.

Almost.

“Well.. thanks.”

“No problem.”

The others looked ready to pass out. Because Sukuna had just said thank you.

To a human being.

Voluntarily.

You smiled and held out the bag, but instead of taking it immediately, Sukuna grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you closer.

“You eat already?”

You nodded.

“Enough?”

“Yes.”

“Water?”

You giggled.

“Yes, mom.”

“You sleeping?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly isn’t an answer.”

You pouted.

“It’s close enough.”

“No.”

The pout deepened.

And to everyone’s horror—

Sukuna sighed and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Brat.”

The others collectively stopped functioning.

You smiled happily.

“Love you too Ryo.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, but corners of his mouth twitched upward.

“What the hell.” Toji muttered.

Sukuna glanced over.

“What?”

“What was THAT?”

“What was what?”

“You kissed her.”

Sukuna looked confused.

“…Yeah.”

“YOU KISSED HER.”

“And?”

“YOU HAVE FEELINGS.”

Sukuna stared at him.

Then looked at you.

Then back at Toji.

Like Toji was the stupid one.

“Obviously.”

The room went silent again.

Because apparently the scariest man on campus wasn’t incapable of love. He’d just used every ounce of kindness he possessed on exactly one person. And as Sukuna casually wrapped an arm around your shoulders while you happily leaned into him, everyone in the room came to the same realization:

Sukuna wasn’t mean to everyone.

He was mean to everyone else.

You, unfortunately—or perhaps very fortunately—were the one exception.

And judging by the way he looked at you?

You always would be.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚

A/N: this is based off this trend I keep seeing on tiktok (boyfriend of the sweetest girl you know.. or ect depending on the character and now I’m gonna do one for everyone possible..)

[doublxpresso]

Hello itafushi nation...here is a silly comic for u

[ohmy-gojo]

nanami's daughter went through an identity crisis at the age of four.

you were teaching her how to write her own name. she happily exclaimed that she can do it herself, after all papa taught her all the alphabets. she clumsily jot down her supposed name and showed it to you, looking very much proud

suethart nanami

you were confused but told her this was not her name. she looked up at you with confused big doe eyes, the color the same as your husband's

"but thats what papa calls me?"

you chuckled behind your hand and explained to her what her actual name was and how it wasnt sweetheart. she looked so devastated that you almost wanted to rename her.

"no, its sweetheart!"

later that evening, before nanami could even announce he was home and put out his shoes, his daughter went to him running

"papa! whats my name??" she asked very firmly, with arms crossed and brows furrowed

he raised his eyebrow at you to see if it was another tiktok prank where he was supposed to call her 'my princess' (hed gladly do that). you just shrugged your shoulders at him, looking very much done. he fondly huffed, things are always so chaotic with you two, but he wouldnt have it any other way. he smiled softly and patted his baby's fluffy haired head

"sweetheart, at least let me put out my shoes first-"

she cheered happily and threw herself in nanamis arms. out of instinct, he held her, with all the gentleness in the world.

"see mama?? i told you my name was sweetheart!!" she then proceeded to give you a 'i told you so' look

nanami, still very much confused and not out of his shoes looked at you, asking for help. you just sighed heavily

later during dinner time, you and nanami both taught your baby about real names and pet names. she got so pouty after she learnt that her name was neither sweetheart nor baby nor honey, it was taking nanami a lot of willpower to not her rename her sweetheart and bring back her sunny smile. but you reassured her that to you guys she will forever be 'sweetheart'. she lit up at your words and proceeded to happily munch her food

nanami blinked. well that was easy.

tho she had another breakdown when she found out that your name wasnt actually 'my love'.

edit : i have a papa geto work too! pls check it out on my profile!! ty :))

[bunniblvz]

◜🍽️ ॱ𓏽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄! (ㆆ_ㆆ) ₎₎ | 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇

˖Ი𐑼. ──── why does it so happen to be you that has to deal with a troubling dasher? more importantly, why is he so cute???

ა . door dasher jake x fem reader : ᯓ ── 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 to ??? 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗒𝗌／𝗄𝗆𝗌 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾 ( 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗌）

@ 𝗅𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾ꫂ᭪݁: ignore how messy this is pls ok ty.

©bunniblvz ྀ ͚ (do not copy or repost)

[tyygr]

talk to me.

── .✦ SUMMARY

[ frat!kuna x sociallyawkward!f!reader ] running into the embodiment of your biggest fear disguised as a man— not once, but twice— wasn't bad enough. your best friend telling him that you're mute because you couldn't apologize due to your awful social skills was the cherry on top. as a result, you bite your tongue, even when you're alone. but the state of your tongue is definitely about to worsen, because another run-in with him at a party will change everything.

── .✦ TAGS

18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of nicotine/cigarettes. slight angst. hurt/comfort. MISCOMMUNICATION. slow burn. social discomfort. socially awkward reader. self-consciousness. overthinking. anxiety. social anxiety. making out. rough kissing. neck kissing. dry humping. slang. social media references.  (later on…  smut. oral (f! receiving). p in v.) -> tags will be updated as series continues.

── [ chapter 1 ] : look at me. (wc: 6.1K)

── [ chapter 2 ] : ...

── [ chapter 3 ] : ...

── .✦ you prefer reading on Ao3?

art by @/naomiiocha on tumblr (left side) and @/neverisa on instagram (right side)

all rights reserved to ©tyygr

[heartkaji]

ⵌ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀-𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ! JJK.

five fratboys + one nerd. will you join them as they try (and fail) to romance the reader with each other’s help ? inc: fratjo(sato), nerdjo(toru) , toji , sukuna , geto , nanami

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐕𝐀 ◞ NERDJO › AVAILABLE NOW !

toru gojo wants you bad. when the fratboys of sigma-chi — toji , sukuna , nanami , geto & his twin brother sato — come together to give him various ‘alpha male’ tactics used to manipulate women into falling in love , will he succeed in winning your heart , or will it blow up in his face ? wc: 4.5k

ⵌ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒 › © HEARTKAJI !

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀 ◞ FRATJO › AVAILABLE NOW !

sato gojo has it all — the looks, the money, the popularity. but when the one girl he wants on campus rejects him because of his playboy reputation, can his frat brothers — and real brother — help him prove he’s not a player ? wc: 5.2k

ⵌ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒 › © HEARTKAJI !

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒 ◞ TOJI › AVAILABLE NOW !

toji zenin is at the end of his rope. drowning in student loans, child support and working himself to death while in college. when he falls for you, the pretty rich girl who frequents his shifts at the local supermarket, can his frat brothers help him hide his true identity? or will you find out and love him regardless? wc: 9.4k

ⵌ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒 › © HEARTKAJI !

GETO SUGURU ◞ to be added !

RYOMEN SUKUNA ◞ to be added !

NANAMI KENTO ◞ to be added !

TAGLIST !

@kkkieraaa @cttelina @xhiraxh @chosolvrr @bisouari @vonnlou @norahlolzz @cutiepie208 @kebablover @renshukaku @poopyshrek @lorikuma @sweetsformysoul @nonamedreams @luvs-angel @moonmintedx @aaylameow @soltoshi @stillsearching1name @throatgoatgojo @sugarxrottentiger @sunnyfieldsz @eaterx @unadulteratedtranquility @amourflores @cl0udyst4rs

to be updated + taglist is open ! comment to join !

© HEARTKAJI. all art, animations and works presented are mine, do not use, plagiarize, edit, translate or reupload.

[heartkaji]

# CASANOVA

I KNOW YOU WANT ME, SO WHY WON’T YOU ACT LIKE IT ?

sum: when you reject fratjo because of his playboy reputation, can his frat brothers—and real brother—help him win you over & prove he’s not a player ?

cast: fratjo (‘sato’ gojo) ◞ nerdjo (‘toru’ gojo) + frat! jjk men (‘sigma-chi’) : geto ◞ toji ◞ sukuna ◞ nanami 𓏲 gallery here !

NICE GUY TACTICS #1: STOP TALKING, START LISTENING !

taught by: nanami kento

“maybe if you listened to y/n as much as you spoke, she’d finally give you a chance.”

ΣX

at a desk behind a bookcase somewhere in birge-carnegie library, nanami kento has a book in his hands & sato gojo’s voice in his ears.

“—rich, handsome, charismatic, compassionate,” sato counts the words on his fingers. “i’m all these things and y/n still rejected me! can you believe it, kenny?”

nanami kento does not give a fuck.

4PM thursday means a box of timbits & the latest volume of nanami’s new favorite BL manhwa. he’s trying to root for cirrus as he pursues his love interest, skylar, but sato gojo’s whining in his ears makes concentrating very, very difficult. nanami snaps his book shut.

“first of all, can you please sit like a child of God?”

across from him, sato gojo is all loose limbs & no decorum; legs open & spread over the mahogany table as he leans back just enough to rock in the wooden chair. he has his arms folded behind his head but when kento snaps, he sits up. his lips are tugged in a stubborn, trying-to-be-cute frown:

“kento,” sato pouts. “help me.”

nanami kento drags a palm over his face. his collar feels tight on his neck & his fingers twitch over his book but sato has his lips pouting & lashes fluttering across from him. if helping out means sato will leave him alone to focus on reading lost in the cloud, who is he to refuse?

RULE #1: TALK LESS, LISTEN MORE !

sato gojo finds you somewhere on the second floor.

he didn’t mean to find you, really. heaven knows he was only on the way to the bathroom, snapchat map clearly not open to your location. at the desk you have your knees to your chest & a marker in your teeth as you frown at your textbook, and sato has to swallow the ache in his throat because your lips are all pouty & glossy & bruised against the marker-cap. fuck.

he strolls over, smile easy & hands in his pockets like you don’t make him shed nerves by the pint.

“y/n l/n,” he grins, leaning over the chair across from you. “fancy seeing you here.”

“don’t make me reject you twice in one week, sato.”

sato gojo bites his lip. your eyes don’t care to meet his as you speak & sato can only watch as you twirl your marker in your teeth. god, you’re so pretty. and god, you’re so mean, shutting him down every time he tries to speak to you because of his ‘playboy reputation’. bullshit.

he’s silent for a beat. “you have sharpie on your nose.”

you blink, hands slowly lifting to your face to rub at your nose. your fingers come back stained in black, & sato gojo can only bite back a smile as you frown at your palms.

“oh my god,” you groan.

“cute,” sato chuckles, pulling out the chair to sit across from you. you’re frowning at him now, lips curled in distrust. but sato doesn’t miss the heat in your cheeks, the glint in your eyes. he makes himself comfortable & leans forward over the table:

“so what’s got you so mad you’re drawing on your face?”

you frown, but sato still gazes at you with that stupid grin & a twinkle in his eyes. you sigh, licking your molars, eyes flitting back to your textbook.

“my group mates,” you tap your marker. “they dumped all the work on me, again. something about me being the ‘smart one’ anyways.”

sato nods, but his attention is split. half of his mind is on the way your gloss spoils in the heat. the other half’s focused on how your lashes flutter even though you’re grumbling. his stomach aches.

“i get that, y’know.”

you blink up at him. “you do?”

he misses the snark in your tone. “people expecting stuff from me, it’s exhausting.” he leans forward, takes the marker from between your fingers & taps it against your knuckles. “for me, it’s girls.”

“…girls?”

“mhm,” he’s still playing with your knuckles, tapping the marker-cap to the bone, lifting each finger & cocking his head like he’s inspecting them. “tons of ‘em, blowing up my phone just because i was nice to them once,” he tugs your thumb wistfully before leaning back. “it gets tiring.”

“…girls.”

“yeah,” sato nods. “girls.”

it’s silent for a beat, sato’s eyes boring into yours. his gaze is tender, nose red, & the marker that was once in your hands is somehow between his lips. his lashes flutter in the light.

you can’t believe he’s deadass.

you’re packing your books now, orgo chem & other textbooks shoving into your book bag. sato watches with his brows knit in confusion. “hey, hey—where are you going—?!”

you leave the library and don’t look back.

NANAMI’S REMARK : WHAT KIND OF MISCOMMUNICATION TROPE IS THIS…?

NICE GUY TACTICS #2: PLAYBOY? NAH, PAYBOY !

taught by: toji zenin

“girls like you for your face but stay for the black card. stop talking and start spending.”

ΣX

it’s tuesday again, and toru gojo’s room is filled with practically everyone but himself. sukuna’s palming his dick with his phone in one hand & toru’s bedsheets covering the other. sato’s twirling a beach ball even though it’s the peak of spring. toji zenin is tugging black tights over his thick thighs, upper half already covered in an equally tight black leotard.

“so,” sato hugs the beach ball to his chin. “new job?”

“dance instructor for katseye,” toji grumbles, struggling to fit the tights over his ass. sato bites his cheek.

“what happened with skai jackson? thought you were working as her personal AI prompt writer.”

“fired. and the brat says AI is bad anyways.”

sato nods. on the bed beside him, sukuna has blown his load & is laid back against toru’s sheets. he has a hand behind his head & the other resting lazy against his cock. “nice ass, zenin.”

toji doesn’t look up, still shifting the tights over his buttocks. “don’t talk about my ass with your dick in your hands.”

sato drops the ball to his lap and groans. “can you guys believe i’m still having no luck with y/n?”

“oh, brother.”

sato shoots sukuna a glare. he slumps against the wall, “i’ve tried listening to her, just like kento suggested. no fucking luck.”

in front of the mirror, toji zenin has succeeded in fitting the tights over his taut ass. sukuna asks him to do a spin & toji tells him to fuck off. sato watches the exchange with a slight pout before his eyes drop to toji’s crotch. damn. he was no expert in print catching, but that dick was definitely a D+.

he shakes the image of toji’s dick away. “i really don’t know what to do about y/n.”

toji picks up his duffel bag. “you’re a gojo, right? you got money?”

“yeah?”

“then use it, dumbass,” toji grunts. “pull out that black card and pay your way into her good books.”

sato only frowns. “y/n doesn’t seem like the materialistic type, though.”

“all women are materialistic,” toji mutters, fumbling through drawers for his keys. sukuna throws them at his head, & toji’s smart enough to pick them up with a tissue to avoid getting precum on his hands. “i’m not gonna ask why you were with my keys. and sato, take my advice if you want a chance with this chick.”

toji exits the room. sukuna has his dick out again, and sato contemplates his next steps as sukuna moans in pleasure beside him.

# SHOW TIME !

at the campus bookstore, there’s a line of 20 students glaring holes into your back.

four textbooks, a lab coat, & five other things you’ll use for class & never touch again. at 214 college street, there’s a heat in your cheeks & an ache in your stomach as the cashier hands you back your card. declined.

“sorry, can you just try again? or could i split the total between two cards—?”

“miss, i’m afraid you’re holding up the line.”

your lips are already bruised & half-bitten when someone sighs loudly behind you. you’re scrambling for another card with too many books in your hands but before you can find one something hard presses against your back.

“she’s with me. put everything she has on here.”

gojo sato has his chest smushed against your back & lalique’s encre noire pricking at your nose. he leans over you to hand his black card to the cashier, who takes it from him with glee.

you tense from the feel of his skin. you bite your lip as you watch the cashier swipe the card, & you’re fiddling with your fingers as your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“relax,” sato murmurs in your ear. “i’ve got you.”

and you do. your shoulders slump into him. your breathing steadies. you don’t even mind the way sato’s hair tickles your ear as he leans over you, or the way his palm has climbed up to meet your hip. he mumbles a sorry as he presses you closer to the counter. his palm doesn’t fall afterward, & your spine tingles when his thumb brushes your side.

“here you go!”

the cashier hands you the bags with a smile as stretched as plastic. sato takes the bags instead, and you watch, wide-eyed & stupefied, as he carries the heavy load all in one toned hand. he walks slightly ahead for a bit before he reaches out his palm behind him. he makes a grabby hand & you take it with a blink.

he gently tugs you forward to walk beside him. he’s grinning, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

his smile grows. you’re peering up at him with wide eyes & god you’re so cute, you’re always so fucking cute, and god. his heart’s all swollen & sticky in his chest.

his hand shifts to your waist now, brushing up & down gently. “good thing i was close by, right?”

“thank you—“

“no need to thank me, sweetheart.” he hums, pressing you flush against his side as you walk together. “i know people like you are usually impoverished. that’s why you study so hard, right?”

you blink, “what?”

sato doesn’t hear you. “i saw you struggling to pay,” he sing-songs, eyes shut & grin pleased. “so i generously thought to step in. pretty girls like you shouldn’t have to pay anyways.”

you stop in your tracks. his thumb is still rubbing slow circles on your hip. “sato.”

“hm, baby?”

“don’t ever show your face to me again.”

you leave him on the street with your books in his hands & his heart in his throat.

TOJI’S REMARK : 🤦🏿‍♂️

NICE GUY TACTICS #3: LET HER COME TO YOU !

taught by: geto suguru

“you’re doing too much. sometimes you gotta give girls space and let them come to you.”

ΣX

“i’m actually creasing!”

it’s thursday again, and sato gojo is sitting cross-legged on his bed with sukuna’s head resting lazy on his lap. through his macbook screen geto suguru is laughing hysterically, tears in his eyes as sukuna snickers on sato’s leg with a palm clutched over his mouth.

they’re all wheezing—with the sole exception of sato gojo, of course.

suguru wipes his tears on his cashmere knit sweater. he’s looking all neat & proper, hair tied back & the picture of perfection. suguru is away in manchester for a study abroad semester. sato misses him badly.

till he opens his mouth again.

“i can’t lie, yeah,” suguru dabs at his eyes. “you’ve absolutely bottled it.”

“can you drop the british accent? you’re a first gen japanese immigrant.”

“allow it,” suguru shakes his head. sukuna is throwing up peace signs at the camera so balloons rise up on the facetime screen. “to call the girl you like impoverished…” suguru says through balloons, “just pack it in, mate.”

sukuna props his head up so his face is on the screen. his smile is clumsy: “your boy’s a proper wasteman.”

suguru grins, “is he?”

sato groans. “i was being a provider. following toji’s advice.”

“mind you, the man can’t even provide for himself.”

suguru snickers at that. “not too much, ryomen. and sato, don’t you think you’re trying too hard?”

“i don’t think i’m trying enough.”

“i think you’re trying in the wrong direction,” geto leans back, all calm & cashmere soft. “give her some breathing room—some space. let her come to you.”

sukuna bends his hands into a heart & a heart bubble appears on-screen. “might be your only option at this point. suguru, can i play on your sims 4 save file?”

“absolutely not.”

sukuna breaks the heart.

sato gojo has his back slumped over, brows knit, & lips twisted in concentration.

“let her come to me…got it.”

# SHOW TIME !

sato gojo is stalking you.

you’re on the way to class with a pen in your ear & a patience worn thin. he was three seats away at the local café. two in the campus library. now you’re walking through the courtyard & sato gojo is leaning back against a bulletin board like his eyes aren’t following your every move.

he has your books in your hand from the other day. is he wearing your lab coat?

you shake the thoughts away & keep walking. you’ve got a test in two hours. a project due in three. screw sato gojo & his rich kid privilege & clumsy smile & bright blue eyes and—

sato scurries behind you just to lean back coolly against yet another bulletin board. what the hell is his problem?

you snap, whipping around. “sato! what are you doing ?!”

his eyes widen. he’s still leaned against the bulletin board, your books in his arms & his hair messy-cute. there’s red on his cheeks & his eyes widen before he fixes his face & plasters on that smooth smirk:

“i’m letting you come to me.”

you blink. “no, i’m going to class.”

“and then you’re coming to me afterwards.”

“no, i don’t fucking think i am.”

he slumps forward as if your words are a weight on his shoulders. he’s pouting now as he walks up to you, your books hugged tightly to his chest. “i owe you an apology.”

“do you?”

“yes—god, yes i do.” he’s close now, too close. “y/n, i’m so fucking sorry. i wasn’t thinking straight. i was trying so hard to impress you and look like a provider but ended up sounding like some classist prick. you’re fucking amazing—strong, smart, independent—god, you’re my inspiration. please don’t make me stay away from you,” he clutches his chest. “my heart can’t fucking take it.”

sato gojo looks like an idiot.

your lab coat shrugged lazy over his shoulders, thick books pressed to his chest & a gaze too tender. he keeps his eyes on yours but his pupils shift like they’re heavy with nerves. you bite your lip. fuck.

“i forgive you,”

he blinks, straightens up. “really?”

“yes, really,” you murmur, picking out each book from his hold. he watches as you pluck them into your arms, your nose flushed & lashes fluttering, & his gaze is all misty. his heart goes sticky in his chest.

“i really like you.”

oh fuck. he didn’t mean to say that. he meant it, oh god, he meant it, but he didn’t mean to fucking say it and—

“i know,” you peer up at him, voice soft & gaze gentle in the heat. “walk me to class?”

he takes your books back into his arms. your lecture is two hours too long but sato gojo waits outside the whole time.

GETO’S REMARK : NEAR DISASTER; BUT CHEERS, MATE !

NICE GUY TACTICS #4: ACT LIKE YOU’RE THE PRIZE !

taught by: ryomen sukuna

“act like you’ve already got her, and you finally will. law of assumption or whatever.”

ΣX

in toru gojo’s room, ryomen sukuna is playing the sims 4 because he has no respect for suguru’s wishes.

sato gojo is on his bed, cheeks flushed & head dizzy. he’s still brushing a thumb over his palm, heat prickling at his skin as he remembers the way you held on when he picked you up after class. your hands were so soft, & you’re so pretty, & gojo sato is utterly fucked.

you’d frowned up at him when you found him waiting but let him hold your hand & guide you to the library regardless. sato tries to breathe. the air goes sticky in his lungs.

at toru’s desk, sukuna is drowning geto’s sim. “why are you smiling like an idiot?” he mutters.

“ryomen,” sato exhales. “i think i’m in love.”

sukuna scoffs, then grins when suguru’s sim kitchen catches fire. “so? you guys are dating now?”

“not yet,” sato sighs, easing into the covers. “to be honest, i’m not even sure she likes me. at least, not the way i like her.”

“mm. i think she just tolerates you.” / “shut the fuck up.”

“listen,” sukuna’s typing cheat codes into the game now. “you want her to be yours? act like she already is. it’s the law of assumption.”

sato blinks. “you believe in manifestation?”

“i use subliminals. how do you think i got my dick so big?”

sato doesn’t comment. “by the way, suguru’s sim asked yours for a divorce. just thought you should know that.”

sato sits up, suddenly serious. “new save file. now.”

# SHOW TIME !

sigma-chi’s frat house is blaring speakers & bodies pressed together on a friday evening.

sato gojo has a cup in his hands & liquor in his teeth. beside him sukuna’s on a chair chugging beer, porn playing in his headphones so he can have a dick print. his technique seems to be working—two bodies to the left, there’s a girl & her friend. sato overhears them conclude sukuna must be a D.

in sato’s ears, however, he’s playing an attract your crush! subliminal—hand-picked & recommended by ryomen sukuna, of course. he has his hands in his pockets, cap slumped & limbs lazy—until he spots you.

glossed hair, glazed lips & your tongue in your cheek. you’re wearing a skirt too short to be sweet & now sato has his tongue in his cheek too. you’re shifting around as if nervous—as if you’d rather not be here, & sato’s heart aches with something akin to want.

he doesn’t realize when his body starts moving.

you’re faced away from him, lips bitten, so he takes your hand from behind. you jolt, “oh—hi.”

“hi, baby,” he mutters, guiding you closer. “you look pretty.”

“thank you,” you murmur, breathless. sato’s arms loop around your hips. you only lift your palms to rest on his chest.

“have you had anything to drink?”

you shake your head, and sato’s hands are climbing higher now, under your top & grazing your spine. his hands are cold, so cold.

sukuna’s subliminal is still buzzing in his ears. he’s always been a daring boy, so he takes the leap. cups your cheek with a palm. brushes your waist when you shiver. “i can get you something.”

“that would be nice.”

he nods & guides you towards the bar.

——

sato gojo’s not sure how he’s done it.

you’re so pliant today. soft & unguarded, warm edges & caramel-sweet. even now he has your back pressed against his chest at the bar, hands on your hips, your perfume in his lungs.

you look up at him, “sato?” and he wants to kiss you because your eyes are too big & your voice is too pretty.

“mm?”

he leans down to hear you & his nose brushes your neck. his thumb is brushing circles on the dip beneath your waistband.

“do you…um. do you actually like me?”

oh god.

sato wants to say he’s never liked anyone more. that last night he dreamt about the shape of your frown, that his ribs ache when you ignore him, that his heart scraped against his throat the day he tried to pay for you but he messed up & you left, that he practiced his apology in the mirror till his throat hurt & if you ever said you liked him back he’d swallow his pride & cry.

but the subliminal still hums in his ears. sukuna’s words are still a ghost in the heat. ‘act like you’ve already got her!’

so he clears his throat. puts on that fake confidence like frat boys do.

“dunno,” but his hand grips your hip. “why? you want me to give you a chance?”

you still in his hold. sato gojo has fucked up once again.

SUKUNA’S REMARK : DAMN.

NICE GUY TACTICS #5: EGO IS THE ENEMY !

taught by: toru gojo

“i’ve played these games before. trust me when i say to just be yourself.”

ΣX

that evening, sato gojo has his knees against the tile & acid in his jugular.

he’s bent over the toilet seat, tongue curled & bone in his stomach. toru gojo has his hand in sato’s hair, holding it back as his twin brother spills his guts into the toilet bowl.

“i fucked up,” he rasps, then pukes again. “toru—toru. i fucked up,”

his nerdy brother bites his lip. it’s a sight for sore eyes—his twin on the bathroom floor with split lip & bruised knees, babbling over a girl with red cheeks & eyes watery. toru picks up a towel to wipe his brother’s face. “you need to calm down—you made a mistake. it’s not the end of the world.”

“it is, fuck, it is.” sato’s tears fall faster than toru can wipe. he’s shaking, “you know this isn’t the first time? that i called her poor?” toru winces. “and she let it go like a fucking saint and—hic—i still fucked up. i hurt her again.”

sato’s nose is blotchy red & his eyes are swollen puffy. the tears don’t stop. “i always hurt her. toru, why do i always hurt her?”

toru kneels down to his brother’s shaking figure, one hand on his cheek & the other dabbing his tears. “because you keep trying to perform. keep acting like something you’re not.” toru pauses. “like i was doing before i finally got my girlfriend.”

sato remembers—how he and his frat brothers gave toru a bunch of ‘playboy tactics’ to woo over his girl. sato shakes his head, sniffling. “i’m not pretending. i’m not fucking pretending.”

“you are,” toru wipes sato’s nose with his sleeve, then quickly regrets it. “i’ve been busy with projects but i know how you get, sato. acting all suave like you don’t overthink everything she says. like you don’t ask for advice on reddit forums. like you don’t make geto roleplay with you so you can decide exactly how to approach her.”

toru pauses, takes in his brother’s sore eyes & tear-stained cheeks. he hugs his brother’s head: “i know how you get.”

sato goes limp in his arms. “i really, really like her.”

“i know,” toru squeezes. “we all do.”

sato lets his head fall limp in his brother’s neck. he can’t help but wish that it was you.

—-

sato gojo has typed your name four times into his notes app because he likes the way it looks on his screen.

then he deletes it, then types it again, then deletes it with tears in his eyes. there’s still alcohol in his throat & his head is too fucking dizzy. it hurts to breathe & sato gojo can’t fucking think.

y/n.

it takes him three tries to spell your name into his contacts. not because he can’t spell, but because there are tears clouding his eyes & his throat hurts whenever he tries to sound your name out. y/n y/n y/n. no search results. then he finds your name saved under ‘baby :)‘ & he’s finally able to breathe again.

he’s still half-drunk, and he can’t really see, and there’s a wound in his chest & his thumbs are shaking so he prays to god for strength as he types. sato gojo hasn’t been to a church since he was eleven. he can’t even spell the word messiah.

SATO:

Hy [deleted]

Hi

y/n i’m so sorry

for everything

ikm such a fucking idiot

when u asked me if i reallly liked u and i said idk and u froze in my arms i felt my heart fucking stop in my chest y/n i’m so sorry

i like you i like you so bad

i don’t have the confudence to say it out loud to your face im so sorry

*confidence

i want to be a better man for you

i’m sorry for always hurting you i try not to i swear i do but i always think too hard and say the wrong things i swear i never ever mean to hurt you never ever

i liek you so much i’ve never liked any girl the way i like you ever in my life

i take acantability

accowntabikity

accountant

accountabity

i’m sorry im accountable

sato’s eyes blur. he’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or the tears. his hands are shaking but he prays again and he’s able to type just one more message.

SATO: ilikeyouilikeyouilikeyouilikeyou

the typing bubble pops up in the chat. he passes out before he can see your message.

——

“where is he?”

sato gojo has his nose beneath the covers, lashes sticky with dried tears & want. his hearing is muffled & his head is dizzy so when the lights flick on he retreats further into the covers.

toru gojo kneels in front of him. “sato. wake up.”

“mmrrnnhhhh.”

toru sighs. you walk up next to him and kneel in front of the bed. “sato?”

he stills. he knows that voice anywhere.

slowly, agonizingly, he pulls down the covers. just a little, just an inch—just because his nose is still blotchy & his eyes are still puffy & he doesn’t want you to see him like this. he opens his eyes & god. if this is a dream—messiah. please don’t wake him up.

you are so beautiful & your eyes are so big & sato gojo can’t believe you’re right here in front of him.

“sato. hi.”

he tries to say hi back. his lips part but he can’t seem to get anything out.

toru rises to his feet. “i’ll get him some water. be right back.”

it’s just you and him now; sato gojo and the only girl he’s ever loved. is it too early to use the word love? you’re resting your chin on folded arms right in front of him & sato does think he’s in love. he hasn’t even properly told you he likes you. he has to hurry up and say it.

you’re so close your noses are touching. you’re so pretty & you smell so sweet. “sato.”

“hi, baby—” but then he coughs. “hi, y/n.”

you giggle at that. sato realizes he’s never heard you giggle before. he wants you to giggle again. can you giggle again?

“i got your messages,”

ah. he swallows. “i texted you back and you didn’t respond. i got worried so i came here.”

sato can’t believe his ears. you worried about him?

he blinks. “i love you.”

your brows furrow.

“i’m sorry for saying it,” his voice is small, shy, slightly muffled beneath the covers. “but i think it a lot. and i’m sorry for loving you because i know i’m not worthy of your love, or of you in general, but if i said i like you that wouldn’t be correct, because the way my heart feels when i think about you is more than ‘like’,”

he breathes. “so i’m sorry for loving you. but i still love you. i’m sorry.”

you don’t know what to say to that. sato gojo is still peering at you—lashes sticky, blue eyes dim yet brimming with light. he’s retreated further into the covers now so all you see is white wisps of hair & those bright blue eyes.

you tug down the covers. he freezes, breathing heavy, eyes wide with both fear & adoration as you climb on top of him.

“say it again.”

“i…like you.”

“no, the other one.”

oh. “i love you.”

sato gulps. “i love you. i love you i love you i love you—“

you press your lips to his own as he holds your hips. he still says ‘i love you’ between your lips.

BONUS #1 — Y/N’S MESSAGES !

——

baby :)

😂😂 lol

you don’t expect me to acc believe this right?

do you know how many times you’ve hurt me these last few weeks and i let it go because my dumbass was in love with you?

*liked you

i was vulnerable and asked if you truly liked me and u said u don’t know and some other dumbass shit

that’s so fucked

you’re so fucked

you’re not fair to me that’s not fair sato

you say you’re sorry and you like me but you can’t even say it to my face? how is that fair? huh sato?

sato

sato?

are you okay

sato

i’m coming over

BONUS #2 – EPILOGUE !

it’s friday again, the end of the week, and sato gojo is at the airport with a grin on his face. his best friend is finally back in town & sato is practically vibrating.

“well, if it isn’t our casanova.”

“suguru!” sato tackles him in a hug. geto laughs, feet wobbly, patting at sato’s back affectionately. “you’ve got a girl now, mate. back up a bit, yeah?”

sato pulls back, frowning. “no more british accents.”

suguru smiles, “no more.”

in the car they talk about everything. sato should be driving but instead he plays passenger princess, recounting the last few weeks without him.

“so you’ve finally gotten the girl.” geto hums.

“yup.”

“and you told her you loved her before you even started dating.”

sato bites his lip. “yes.”

“you’re down bad.”

“i know.”

“i’m glad you’re happy, y’know,” geto is talking but sato’s phone dings in his lap. that special notification sound he’s set up only for you.

mine🫀: are you still picking up geto?

sato grins.

—

sato: you miss me, baby?

mine🫀: shut up

i’m still at the library

sato: i know babygirl i’m omw

mine🫀: nooo don’t come here

i need to study and u won’t let me focus

sato: thought i was your favorite distraction? 💔

mine🫀: ha. ha. don’t come here

sato: too late already at the exit

mine🫀: SATO

—-

“sato? are you listening?”

“sorry,” sato mutters, locking his phone. his knee is bouncing & his chest feels light. god, he’s so in love. “take the next left. suguru, do you know ryomen fucked with our sims’ marriage?”

“he what?”

“i need you to make a sim for y/n. i want to marry her instead,” sato hums. he’s clicking his phone on & off now, clearly not waiting for your next notification.

“i told that fucker not to touch my game.”

sato licks his canines. “that boy doesn’t listen.”

suguru’s grumbling now, something about a ‘good for nothing porn addict’ and ‘fuckass exhibitionist kink’ but sato only hums along in the passengers seat. then his phone dings again.

mine🫀: [Image Attachment]

he clicks on it way too fast.

and it’s a picture of you, phone in your lap & pouting down at the camera. your hair’s all messy in your face & your lips are bent in the cutest frown. god, you’re so beautiful. god god god.

he licks his lips. types back: ‘i love you my baby.’

“sato—? sato? what the fuck, man.” suguru’s still gripping the wheel, eyes on the road. “i’ve been talking for two minutes. who’s got you smiling like that?”

his phone dings again.

mine🫀: i love you too, idiot 💖

sato smiles. “my girlfriend.”

SIGMA-CHI’S REMARK : WE’RE HAPPY FOR YOU, BRO.

# SIGMA-CHI STORIES !

© HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.

[beomzone]

i love this series