welcome!
here, it's good vibes only, and a place to relax.
i post a variety of content centering around my interests, but i mostly lounge around lol.
header found here: https://www.tumblr.com/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
⊹ ࣪ ˖ CONTENT. so much fluff! manga spoilers in a few parts, oblivious reader, mutual crushing? kinda, awkward flirting, blushing, some characters are terrible at hiding their feelings, others are surprisingly good at it, pre-established crushes, maybe ooc but who cares, around 0.2k words per character, not proofread.
AUTHOR’S NOTE. i wanted to put THAT name instead of enjin for fuck but the spoiler is not free. also why tf is almost the whole gachiakuta cast in this (bro didn’t want to exclude anyone). at some point i lost the plot lol sorry about that
𑣲 IF YOU DON’T KNOW, YOU ARE TOO CLUELESS…
ENJIN wouldn't be too direct or honest about his feelings toward you, at least not right away. It's not that he's necessarily hiding them, but he'll keep acting just as laid-back as always, at first. After that phase, you'll clearly notice that he's behaving a little differently around you. Remember how he used to go into town to chase after girls? Yeah, that mysteriously stopped. Right now, his attention is focused on a certain person. Sometimes he seems too close, invading your personal space, always sitting next to you whenever he gets the chance, and making sure you ‘coincidentally’ end up in the passenger seat every time he drives the Jeep. It’s weird, yes. However, rest assured that once he falls in love with you, he won’t leave your side all day. He hates being alone, and what could be better than spending time with you instead of being surrounded by kids for a little while? It’s the perfect excuse!
“Want to go into town?”
“No, Enjin. We’ve got missions to do. Get your butt to work.”
“C’monn…”
AUGUST is way too loud in general, not to mention when he started developing feelings for you. No one will ever hear the end of this. It was already common knowledge throughout HQ that August has romantic feelings for you. Eishia has had a pretty rough time because of her brother’s behavior, he’s been so brazen with you! Every so often, she has to remind him to give you some space since, as far as he’s concerned, that concept doesn’t exist in the slightest. He’ll be in your personal space ALL THE TIME. Hugs and any other kind of physical contact will become constant with him, even before you’re a couple. You’d also be one of the few people he’d constantly invite to his workshop, or whom he’d let in while he’s working. Since you’re one of the people he considers most important to him, August would be happy to share that part of his hobby with you and include you in it. For example, he’d show you a design he made and wait for your opinion on it, no matter how honest it was! In fact, he’d prefer it that way so he could improve. Honestly, you’d have to be pretty oblivious not to notice how much he loves you, wouldn’t you? Especially after seeing yourself represented in so many places around his workshop.
“LOOOK!! What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful. Is there supposed to be something wrong with it?”
AMO is pretty open about her love for you, and she wouldn't even try to hide it. She loves you so much and wants you to know it—that's all. She’d clearly show favoritism toward you, treating you with much more affection and never stopping talking about you! Her infatuation would be even more obvious when she could go from yelling at someone to being surprisingly calm with you in less than ten seconds if that's what you want. You’d better get used to her being with you at all times, because ever since Amo started liking you, you’ll see her every day, everywhere. After a while, physical contact between the two of you would also increase unconsciously—mostly on her part, since she tends to be a bit impulsive. She might tug on your sleeve, lean on your shoulder, or always stand close to you while you’re talking, simply because that’s normal for her. Finally, she’s very jealous, a little more so at this stage. Her possessiveness isn’t malicious, her jealousy stems from the feeling that she’s being ‘replaced’ or that she’s competing with that person for your attention.
“Do you love Amo?”
“…Are you asking because I just spent time with Riyo?”
TOMME realized immediately that she was in love, but she’d try to handle it as maturely as possible. Because of her job, which requires her to pay attention to details, she’d notice various habits you have without really meaning to, surprising even herself. Since when has she known exactly how you like your drink or your favorite food, what expressions you make when you’re tired or focused, the things you don’t like, how you usually talk? Unexpectedly, she wouldn’t be so shy about taking the initiative to invite you to spend time with her during simple moments or to cheer you up if you’re feeling down—she’s very good with words, so Tomme wouldn’t mind helping you. As for her notes, she’s had to start crossing out some observations she made about you that often had nothing to do with the missions at all. It would be inevitable for you to notice, given how much attention she pays to you.
“You shouldn’t have pushed yourself so hard.”
“Don’t worry, Tomme! I’m fine.”
FOLLO would be greatly affected by you. While he’s usually helpful to everyone, with you he’d be ten times more so. If you need anything, he’ll always be there to try to help you, and he’d expect you to know that, too. He’s very thoughtful; he’ll often try to strike up conversations about some of your personal interests you’ve mentioned before, and—to spare himself a bit of embarrassment—discreetly ask if you’ve eaten or rested yet, just to check in, of course. Gris might want to help Follo out from time to time, but he wouldn’t be able to do much to help the two of you understand each other, so he’d probably just leave the two of you alone whenever you’re together. Please don’t compliment him or make physical contact without warning. A simple ‘good job’ from you would make him very nervous, and he’d stumble over his words a bit when thanking you. The situation would get worse if you were to even accidentally or on purpose brush against his hand a little. He blushes so easily that you’d notice it immediately. Why might that be?
“Thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“I-it wasn’t that big of a deal… don’t hesitate to let me know if you need help again.”
𑣲 IF YOU LOOK SOO CLOSELY…
CTHONI would almost never let on how she feels in general, especially now that she likes you. She’d be very subtle about revealing her true intentions. You’d have to pay attention to certain changes so you can learn to read between the lines and understand what they really mean. Obviously, it wouldn’t be a coincidence if she suddenly started appearing behind you without you even hearing her (she’s already startled you several times) and then just stood there for no apparent reason without saying a single word, not even when she didn’t mind giving you a sandwich she had on hand in the middle of a mission after accidentally finding out you hadn’t eaten. Still, she wouldn’t explain much about why she’s acting that way. For someone as reserved as she usually is, the fact that Cthoni would initiate a conversation with you—and let you into her personal space after you’ve spent a considerable amount of time interacting—might be enough for you to draw your own conclusions about what’s really going on.
“You need to drink water.”
“Uh?”
“It’s been hours since you last did.”
ZANKA is proud and will treat his crush as a BIG secret. He isn’t embarrassed that he’s in love with you, but what he does find embarrassing is the whole idea of having a crush, which isn’t really appropriate for someone like him, or so he thinks. One of the weirdest things that’s come up is that you have certain privileges that others don’t have, like him letting you invade his personal space or touch him physically for as long as you want without him asking you to back off, or even letting you touch his Lovely Assistaf for a moment, which speaks for itself about what that means. On the other hand, he’d start giving you little gifts with excuses to make it seem like no big deal. Oh, man. It doesn’t matter if he’s on a mission or not; if he sees you, he’ll work twice as hard to be stronger. It’s up to you whether you notice these signs or not, because some might go unnoticed if you don’t know him well enough. His exclusivity toward you would be his way of subtly letting you know he likes you.
“You’ve gotten stronger, Zanka!”
“Really?” He definitely wasn’t killing himself during all that training just to look cooler for you.
GOKA is quite reluctant to let something like this take over his mind, but he can’t help it no matter how hard he tries. He likes you and doesn’t know what to do. He’s one of the least obvious ones, precisely because he’d like to hide it as much as possible. Goka himself isn’t the romantic or expressive type. Although he may seem uninterested on the surface, he actually cares about you quite a bit, but you just wouldn’t notice it because, in a way, he’d be more curt with you, and stricter, too. However, his words rarely match his actions. He contradicts himself when he tells you directly that your technique needs to improve, only to then help you correct your form himself with more gentleness than you’d expect from Goka. He says you need to be more responsible with your tasks, yet he’ll end up doing them himself without asking for anything in return. Months, perhaps much longer, could go by without him making any direct progress. You wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He’s still a demanding superior, right?
“Did you really help me with this?”
“You should have done it sooner. In the future, make sure you do it on your own. On time.”
MILDRETTA would give the opposite impression that she likes you—or maybe not. If you knew her really well, you’d know all her irritation and scolding come from the fact that, deep down, she cares about the people who matter to her. That’s how it would be with you. You’d better hide from Mildretta when you come back injured from a mission, because you’ll get the worst scolding from her, along with her help, of course. Despite all that, Meriege would still tell you that you’re one of the people Mildretta cares about most. This wouldn’t make much sense from your point of view, but it would from hers. Meriege knows her very well, and she obviously would know exactly what situation her teammate is in. Mildretta isn’t very expressive verbally, but she’d be very protective. She’d constantly make sure you didn’t get into unnecessary trouble or that no one tried to take advantage of you. She’s very trustworthy and loyal; once she falls in love with you, it would be very hard for her to walk away afterward. Even though she doesn’t express it very well, rest assured that she’d love you dearly and let you see it. In her own way.
“You look great today!”
“…Focus on the mission.”
𑣲 THERE’S SOMETHING… WEIRD?
FU gets really nervous when he's around you. He stutters more and he can't even manage to make eye contact with you for very long before excusing himself and leaving. He doesn't know how to deal with his feelings, but he genuinely likes it when you give him orders. No matter how small the task, he’ll never complain, after all, he loves helping you! Your requests are his favorites, although he’ll still be a little more anxious than usual, worried that he might mess them up. The rare times he doesn’t overthink before acting are when you’re in danger during a joint mission, quickly letting Hii take control so he can handle the situation. Speaking of the possessed doll, he won’t hear the end of it because Fu would talk about you so much to him. Hii gets a little irritated when Fu simply refuses to take his suggestions to put an end to this whole problem. Maybe he’ll have to do something about it.
“Why don’t you just tell them—”
“Hii, they’re coming! What do I do!?”
RUDO suddenly felt strangely uncomfortable around you, which was kind of weird. He didn't mean any harm, but he needed a little more time to process it since he hasn't had the best experiences with this kind of thing. However, he’d like to make you handmade gifts in his free time to clear his head and see your reaction—after spending a considerable amount of time deciding whether or not to give them to you—and also to spend quality time with you away from all the problems he’s had since arriving on Terra. He listens to absolutely EVERYTHING you say; he’d rather stay silent and listen to you talk for hours if that’s what you want, he won’t get tired or annoyed like he normally would with someone else. Rudo tends to be calmer when he’s with you, and surprisingly, he’s also much less rude and thinks a little more carefully about his words before speaking. You’d better get ready for Riyo and Enjin’s teasing, because they won’t stop once they see you with Rudo more often. Come on, it’s way too obvious! At least to them…
“Rudo! Make sure you kill that trashy beast with them… and don’t get too distracted by your partner.”
“Can you shut up?”
EISHIA has a hard time being around you for very long, especially because her shyness makes it difficult for her to interact with you normally. Would she seem strange from your perspective? Hopefully not. The only thing you might find odd about this (aside from her strange behavior and the blush on her cheeks when she’s with you) is that August sometimes tells you very specific things about what Eishia likes out of nowhere, and he’s been trying to get closer to you. All with the intention of helping her little sister, of course! She acts politely and seems more concerned about you, often rushing to heal you and staying focused to avoid accidents with her Jinki, or simply giving you sweets she thinks you’d like. Other than that, you’d have to make a more obvious move for something to develop between you two. Eishia hasn’t had much experience with these kinds of situations and is very inexperienced, so she doesn’t know what to do beyond her small acts of kindness, but she’ll be quite open and grateful to accept any subtle advances you might make toward her!
“Can I stay in the infirmary with you today?”
“U-um… If you want to, sure. Although I don’t really do much anyway, so if you get bored…”
MOMOA would not be so obvious about liking you. She wouldn’t deny anything, but she wouldn’t confirm it either; she’d just let it be. As long as it doesn’t get too involved in her business, she’s fine. She can live peacefully with her feelings. Momoa likes it when you sometimes keep her company while she listens to music, without feeling the need to bother her (ahem, Jabber). Overall, she’d still be herself around you. Maybe there’d be some subtle signs that would make you wonder now and then—like her normally bored gaze lingering on you a little longer than she’d normally care to, letting you pick the songs she listens to every once in a while, or responding more quickly when you talk to her. Basically, Momoa likes spending quiet moments. Since she’s taken an interest in you, she’d be at least a little curious about what you’ve been through, but don’t worry. No matter how curious she is, she’ll never use her Jinki on you unless it’s really necessary or you give her permission.
“You did a great job, Momoa!”
“Yeah?”
NOERDE can be a little confusing to read. You wouldn't know if what she feels for you is respect, admiration, or something else. She has very high standards when it comes to liking someone, whether romantically or otherwise, so you went through a test without even knowing it. After passing Noerde’s assessment to see if you were worth her time, she’d start showing interest in an unusual way… she’d give you compliments, but they’re very easy to overlook since most of the time she only points out your strength, which is sometimes accompanied by a bit of criticism on her part. She’s a warrior. What else would she have to compliment? And why don’t you realize that what she just said to you is incredibly valuable? Ever since Noerde started falling for you, she’s been trying to prove that she’s strong and worthy enough for you, only for you to fail to notice, as usual. Your clueless behavior irritates her. Finally, the greatest gesture she’d make would be to let you touch her hair. But you’ve never tried because you’re afraid of how she’d react. Noerde is very particular about her hair, which is why letting you touch it would be a sign of the trust she has in you.
“Lately, I’ve been thinking you’ve been acting strange.”
“Acting strange? Work on your judgment.”
GOUNTESS already cared about you quite a lot and was fond of you in his own way before he realized he was in love with you. Now, all of that changed once he understood he felt something more than friendship for you. He would be conflicted about those feelings, knowing his presence could inevitably bring you a lot of trouble. What would he do? Obviously, keep his distance. He wouldn’t want someone like Mymo or anyone else to hurt you because of him. He would apologize to you internally and try to maintain as little contact with you as possible. Of course, this wouldn’t go unnoticed by you. How could it? He went from being the person who cared about you the most, telling you how important you were to him and being a safe haven for you, to becoming a familiar stranger you used to spend time with. How could you not wonder why you never saw him again?
“Wh… what did you say?”
“I like being with you, Gountess.”
𑣲 YOU WOULD NEVER KNOW IT.
TAMSY is self-aware and knows perfectly well how to hide a crush, which is something absurdly easy for the things he’s had to do in the past. He could be by your side and interact with you naturally like he always does, without a single red flag for you to suspect that his feelings are quite different from what they actually are. The worst part is he wouldn’t even try too hard for you to notice. He’d rather stay where he is and simply wait patiently for the fleeting feeling to pass. If it somehow doesn’t go away, that’s where he could actually start taking those feelings a little more seriously. As much as he’d like to get rid of all kinds of feelings that don’t serve his goals, he’d eventually come to live with them reluctantly, like in this case. The changes would be slight but pretty strange and exclusive to you, like paying a little more attention whenever you decide to talk about anything, and being more attentive toward you in the eyes of the other Cleaners. He’d also be very polite and respect some of your boundaries, but nothing too alarming.
“You’re surprisingly attentive.”
“Am I?”
ZODYL is too logical and reserved. You wouldn't know it, and he wouldn't know how he feels about you either. At first, he might justify it by saying that you’re simply a valuable member of the Raiders and perform well on missions. That would explain why he’s thinking about you more than he does about other people. You’d have to learn how to read him very carefully to notice his unusual behavior, because it’s clearly not romantic in the conventional sense. He’d start including you in certain plans of personal interest and sometimes share some of his theories with you. For him, that would be ‘affection’ or a way of showing he’s interested in someone. Since Zodyl is quite analytical, that would also apply to you. He’d ask you strange questions he didn’t used to ask before, just out of sheer curiosity about how you think. This would leave you even more confused than you already are.
“What do you think of the Sphere?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
SEMIU is pretty neutral about her feelings. If she’s honest, she might say she was a little surprised to realize that she really did see you that way. She wouldn’t deny it, but she did consider those feelings a slight distraction for her. Although that doesn’t change the fact that she enjoys it when you join her at her desk if you have free time, when you help her with paperwork every now and then, or when you do little favors to help her out. The other Cleaners might notice that Semiu tends to be more patient with you, pointing things out a bit more gently when you do something she’d normally consider stupid (which, from Enjin’s point of view, is a complete injustice). You’d be surprised by how observant she tends to be. If the crush lasts longer, she won’t waste any more energy trying to avoid the inevitable, so she’ll accept it and be as direct as possible once she’s made her decision. This will take you completely by surprise because, as far as you’re concerned, there were no clear signs that she liked you.
“Your favorite food came with the rest of the meal they brought us.”
“How do you know it’s my favorite food?”
“It’s easy to tell when you drool all over your chin just looking at it.”
HYO is convinced that it’s just another sensation in her brain that feels different. She’d probably be the last person to admit that she loves you. She doesn’t understand how she came to feel this way, so she’ll keep her distance and won’t make a move at first. Hyo might make you a little uncomfortable at times, since you might catch her staring at you out of the blue with a blank expression on her face, and sometimes you’ll get the feeling that she knows your habits quite well and some details about you that no one else would notice. Generally, since Hyo wouldn’t know how to be around you without giving herself away or raising suspicion, she’d start looking for excuses just to be by your side. And speaking of those, they’re terrible, since she’d never spend much time in the company of someone the way she has with you. She’s very independent and would rarely share space with anyone outside of a work setting. You’d have to pay close attention to notice a pattern, because her affection shows more in what she does than in what she says.
“Don’t you usually take a different route, Hyo?”
“No. I take this route.” She’s clearly lying.
KYOUKA simply doesn't usually give much thought to her feelings; at first, she ignored them so she could continue prioritizing her work. To her, you’re a competent person who takes the Hell Guard seriously. That’s as far as it goes. At least, that was the case for a while, until her younger brother unintentionally pointed out her strange behavior toward you compared to other soldiers. She had never considered that conclusion until she started paying closer attention to her own behavior. After she started scrutinizing herself excessively, she realized that, indeed, her brother was right. It seems she’s more concerned about your well-being than other people’s, or perhaps you’re simply the first person she’d seek out under the pretext of telling you that you have more work to do, or that she has a certain weakness she hates having when you compliment anything other than how well she does her job. Even so, she’d still keep her distance enough to prevent you from noticing it either. Kyouka won’t openly admit she has a crush on you, nor would she get suspiciously close in a way that might make you even consider there’s something more. Get used to those signs. It would take her a long time to confess.
“Good job. Go to the nurse’s office, you need it.” And she’d walk away calmly as if she hadn’t said a thing.
𑣲 YOU THINK THEY’RE JUST BEING KIND.
CORVUS is very perceptive. He wouldn't need anyone to tell him that he likes you; he'd already know it, quite calmly. It wouldn’t even cross anyone’s mind that their boss is dealing with some romantic feelings. Corvus is a gentleman in every way. No one would be treated as well by their lover as you are by him (even though you aren’t a couple yet…), but there wouldn’t be any particularly noticeable or strong favoritism. Just because he’s in love doesn’t mean he’d neglect others for your sake. It just means that extra attention would happen in private. There would be a very curious change: Corvus is quite selective about whom he trusts, so consider yourself lucky when he starts asking about your judgment and pays close attention to what you say, because that would be very important. The moments with him would be the most comfortable, especially when you’re in his office and manage to get a smile or two out of him. What a situation he found himself in without ever once considering it…
“Corvus! You’re finally here. You’ve been gone longer than usual.”
“I’m sorry. Lately, there have been several things I’ve needed to take care of. Do you have free time? We could talk if you’re up for it.”
GRIS is quite kind to everyone without exception, which is why you didn’t even think anything of it when he started treating you in a much kinder and warmer way. He really likes you, so he’ll show it, knowing full well that you don’t know exactly why he’s doing it and that you’ll mistake it for a sign of his support as a mere friend. He doesn’t care if you like him back, if you need time to think about it, or if, for your part, all you have to offer is friendship. He’d be happy just to have you by his side. His affection makes him feel more responsible, so expect Gris to wish you luck every time you go out on a mission and check to make sure you’re not injured right after you finish it. He thinks it’s the least he can do, since, unfortunately, there’s not much he’s able to do when you’re fighting Trash Beasts.
“You’re so nice, Gris. Maybe too nice…? But thank you for caring so much about me!”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
BRO SANTA would be much more transparent without even realizing it. He doesn’t know he’s being obvious until Guita herself innocently asks him when you’re coming over to spend time with them. It might have been just a casual comment, but it made him think about it for quite a while. Basically, you’d become a second adoptive parent to Dear and Guita. Speaking of the little boy, you’d have to be very patient to earn his trust at first. Bro would probably try to help you with that, he’d like the two of you to get along well in the future… He’s not assuming you’d say yes if he asked you out! But every time he’s accidentally seen you guys together, it makes him fall a little more in love with you. You’d become more and more a part of his circle, and absolutely everyone would realize that whenever he’s there, you’d be there too because he invited you. Bro often has to hide his embarrassed face and apologize to you when the Cleaners joke that you two would make a cute couple. That sort of thing. Dear is fed up with his father still deciding to play dumb after all.
“Hm.”
“Why are you looking at me like that, Dear?”
𑣲 YOU DON’T KNOW IF THEY ARE JOKING OR NOT (they’re not).
JABBER is still… Jabber. He constantly bugs you just to get your attention. This might be the first time he’s ever experienced a crush (albeit a twisted one), so he’ll deal with it in his own way. However, that doesn’t make him any more tolerable most of the time. Do you like your privacy? Forget about it with him. If you’re a Raider, he may or may not annoy Zodyl enough for him to send the two of you on missions together, mostly just to get Jabber off his back—and partly because, at the end of the day, the two of you somehow always manage to successfully complete your part of the mission. He loves showing you the poisons he has and the effects they cause, too! He might even beg you to try them with him when you have nothing else to do. It’s up to you whether or not to accept his offer. Jabber has grown so trusting of you in such a short time that you wouldn’t be surprised to find him right beside you when you wake up one of these days. Or maybe it’s already happened—many, many times. You just don’t take him seriously.
“Pleeease… just one! This one feels good!”
“Get off me, Jabber!”
“Uhhh… Are you afraid of ’em? I didn’t know you were one of those cowards.”
MYMO would never admit that he actually has a crush on you. He’d dismiss it as mere curiosity to protect his pride. It simply wouldn’t occur to him that someone like him could fall in love with… well, you. Instead of acknowledging his feelings, he’d treat them as a game to amuse himself. He’d single you out as his main target, playing pranks on you, deliberately putting you in awkward situations just to see how you’d react, or casually dropping random comments about things he’s heard about you. Speaking of which, he’d investigate you to see how much he could find out. He’d keep that information for later, whether he intended to use it against you or simply keep it to himself. Mymo wouldn’t have a healthy crush. Even though he might seem harmless, he could become quite possessive and manipulative if you ever took a path he didn’t like. In general, he’d also idealize you, seeing you as part of his vision without caring in the least about getting to know you for who you really are. But you wouldn’t know any of that. From your perspective, he’s simply having fun and being his usual self, completely unaware that, in reality, he’s already mapped out a destiny for you.
“Are you joking?”
“Guess! What do you think?”
RIYO thought it was really fun being around you, and the realization hit her not long after, when she found herself questioning her own feelings toward you. Even before she fell in love with you, you’d already gotten used to her chaotic and carefree personality, so you weren’t surprised when, over the last few months, she started seeking you out more often to joke around with you. You also didn’t pay much attention to how often she played with your hair, leaned in close whenever she got the chance, or became especially attentive during your last few missions together. She’d brush it off by saying it would be better if you didn’t die in some humiliating or silly way anytime soon. Riyo was constantly keeping an eye on you, with good intentions, according to her. Just like Zanka, she also has a thing for impressing you, showing off what she and her scissors are capable of whenever she gets the chance. She makes you wonder if there’s really something more between you, but you can’t tell whether she’s simply being her usual self or if something has actually changed.
“Hey, I just heard this joke—”
“Oh, please don’t.”
TOO LILY can be pretty oblivious sometimes without even realizing it herself, which is why she doesn't understand why the signs aren't very clear to you when they clearly are. At least to her. Her crush would be a little bit awkward. Emphasizing just how oblivious she is, she genuinely didn't realize when her songs and some of her shows had become a little connected to you if someone were to look closely. She certainly doesn't mind, of course; she'd say she feels quite the opposite! As an artist, one way she would show her affection would be through spectacle and entertainment. This translates into changing her outfit as many times as you want just to impress you, and she would even give you the privilege of occasionally choosing the outfit she wears for some of her performances, along with a ticket to see her perform! One of the things she'd enjoy the most would be doing different magic tricks and teaching them to you just to see you smile. She likes making people smile, and your smile is her favorite, so why not make you happy with whatever she has at her disposal? Unfortunately, even with all of that, since you wouldn't know her very well at first, you'd probably think it's just her being Too Lily, as always.
“Look at them! Aren’t they incredible? They are my favorite person! And of course, my assistant who has gotten me out of several predicaments.”
“Lily, stop doing that.”
tag list: @q-ueue @calicocat-ina-tuxedo @fairyofprose @flyinfih
I don’t know about others but the only reason I put both is so that whichever someone clicks on, they will find my fic. So if there is supposed to be rules, I guarantee you that no writer knows these ones. We can barely get people to comment, you think we’re going to specifically choose & or / ? Hell no.
I’ve been in fandom for twenty years, and “/” means romance and “&” means no romance was literally one of the first things I learned. It dates back to Star Trek fanfiction of the 70s. I’m boggled by the fact that anyone who’s been reading fic on AO3 for more than like five minutes wouldn’t know that, and I’m curious as to what fanfic community you come out of.
I don’t think that tagging with both is actually going to get your fic in front of more readers. People looking for romance often exclude the “&” tag if there are too many gen fics tagged with both. People looking for gen often exclude the “/” tag if there are too many fics with both. So rather than putting your fic in front of twice the people, you are in fact more likely to get your target audience ignoring your fic because it has a tag they don’t want.
Also, by overtagging you are more likely to annoy potential readers away from your fic than entice them. A fic tagged both & and / better have both romance and a ton of platonic interaction between the two characters, like a slow burn romance friends-to-lovers arc. If it isn’t, I’m going to be very unhappy because the author lied to me with the tags to try and trick me into reading a fic with deceptive advertising.
When I’m in a fandom and see tagging where some of the tags don’t really apply and are just there to get it in front of more eyes, I’m going to assume one of two things. Either the author is a newb who doesn’t know anything, or the author is purposefully spamming the tags because they don’t care about lying to their potential audience and think that “spray and pray” is an effective tactic. In the first case, their writing probably will not be very good, so why bother reading their fic. In the second case, the fact that I can’t trust the tags to be accurate means I’m not going to read it to see if it’s interesting even if it has a tag I like. Chances are, that tag isn’t actually in the fic anyway, and even if it is, by spam-tagging the author is making the archive harder to use for everybody. Why would I reward bad behavior with attention? No. Far better to mute the author and move on.
More to the point--and no, I will never stop harping on this, because we have GOT to stop leaving our strongest points in the drawer--it doesn't matter if you heard of this convention before joining AO3 or not, because it's in AO3's tagging FAQ.
[id: the "How do I tag a romantic or platonic relationship?" section of the tagging FAQ here.]
"But Jo," you may argue, because you're wrong. "There's no way to find that without digging through site FAQ menus, and that's really inaccessible!"
sure
except
that when you go to post a new fic, and you go to put in those relationship tags, you see this
[id: the Relationships field]
and that tooltip, the one THERE TO EXPLAIN HOW THE FIELD WORKS, links to the Relationships segment of the tag FAQ, which explicitly lays this shit out.
I don't care if you don't know fandom history. I don't care if you've never heard a goddamn word about the spirk shippers. I don't care if you've never been exposed to fandom culture in your life. It is, frankly, not fair to expect those things of everyone.
What is entirely fair to expect is that you will READ THE INSTRUCTIONS PRINTED NEXT TO THE FUCKING BOX, actually. Forget fandom conventions. It genuinely doesn't matter whether you agree with or respect fandom conventions. This is a site policy. This is explicitly how tagging on AO3, specifically, works.
who has two floppy ears and a cute little tail? Suguru Geto, apparently!
pairing: bunny!Geto x f!Reader
content: mdni, fluff and smut, au where Geto never defected, taking care of Geto after a curse temporarily transforms him into a rabbit, teasing, multiple povs, coworker to pet to lover, Geto HATES being a bunny, pining, petting, cuddling, domestic fluff, falling in love, smidges of angst, injury, hurt/comfort, gojo being a nuisance and our favorite matchmaker, eventual smut (after he transforms back to his normal body), oral (f! receiving), back shots, unprotected piv sex, creampie, breeding kink, Geto is borderline OBSESSED
art by @aransmind + divider by @dollywons
"You got a bunny?" You giggled, bending down to get a better look at the small ball of fuzz sitting on Shoko's desk. Tufts of long black fur stuck out, beady eyes staring back at you through its mane when you squinted at it.
You never knew bunnies could glare.
Gojo laughed behind you, a big hand clamping down on your shoulder once you stood back up as he leaned in to hum in your ear. His infinity was down for once, but he still seemed a little jittery, his foot impatiently bouncing on the tile. "Not quite."
"Then whose is it?" You tilted your head to the side, one corner of your mouth curling up trying to suppress your laugh that someone actually brought one here. One of the students? Haibara? Nanami?
Its fur was obviously well-maintained, maybe the pieces of his emo little heart leftover from high school convinced him to purchase his own stoic companion.
"Yours."
"Yeah, right," You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes at the realization he seriously expected you to take this thing home and shrugging his hand back off of you. "If you think I'm babysitting whatever animal you-"
"You haven't even let me explain," Gojo whined, tugging at your sleeve.
Between missions and the stacks of paperwork he already pushed off on you, there was no fucking way you were taking care of another one of his problems.
Or pet, in this case.
"No."
"Come on, please," He purred, pitching his voice down and skimming his fingertips over your back in an attempt to butter you up.
"Ask Suguru to take care of it," You sighed, glancing back to where the rabbit hadn't moved, perched on the edge and sitting oddly still, almost observant.
"I can't," He whined.
"Why not?"
"That's Suguru."
You blinked up at him. Then at the bunny. Then back to him. You heard his words, but they weren't setting in, all the synapses in your brain refusing to fire to give them any meaning.
"You named that Suguru?" Your eyebrow shot up, bottom lip still pushed out in a pout.
It wasn't like you were friends with Geto, or more than just coworkers or acquaintances, but you sincerely doubted he would be pleased at the tiny creature in front of you sharing his namesake. Even it didn't seem happy, a harsh thump of his back foot against the table as if he was making a point of his annoyance.
You'd been the subject of Gojo's jokes before, used to the punchlines pointed at you. But this was a new one.
"Suguru, help me out here," He huffed, talking to the bunny. Who actually nodded.
God, you didn't get paid nearly enough for this.
"I swear if this is another joke-" You mumbled, leaning down to get a better look. The bunny, Suguru, was watching you back just as intently, beady eyes staring straight into yours.
"I'm not joking," Gojo protested, as if offended by the thought alone.
You stuck out a finger, wondering if it'd be rude to pet him or even just poke one of his paws, struggling to accept what you were seeing. But the second your finger got close enough to his face, he nipped you.
"Hey, wait-" His warning was a little late when Geto's freshly-sharpened incisors had already sunk into the pad of your finger.
"He bit me," You frowned, pulling your hand back and holding it close to your chest, little red droplets pooling over the broken skin.
"You stuck your finger in front of his mouth," Gojo said it like it should be obvious. "It's, like, an instinct or something."
"How am I supposed to know that?" You blinked, wiping away the blood on your shirt with a disgusted huff.
Suguru stomped his back paw again, irritated with one or maybe both of you for bickering while he was stuck like that.
"What even happened?" You grumbled, muscles pulled tight in your jaw.
"Dunno," Gojo shrugged, readjusting the blindfold over his eyes and pulling it up just enough to peek again at his best friend on the table. "He swallowed the curse one second, and the next, poof!"
He talked with his hands, exaggerating the motion and cocking his head to the side.
"Poof?" You repeated, barely holding in your eye roll.
"Shoko says he should be back to normal in a few days," Gojo just kept on going, ignoring your strained stare. He did pause though, tilting his head from side to side sheepishly. "Or a few weeks."
You half-expected Geto to pop out from the hallway, a wry smile on his face and that annoying know-it-all crinkle of his eyes. Leaning against the doorframe murmuring something about you falling for another one of Gojo's tricks again.
Sure, they'd grown up from the teenagers who used to tease you at every sister school exchange, but ever since you transferred and started working with them as adults, you'd been swept up in their bullshit enough times that you were having trouble shaking your suspicions.
"So you want me to take care of a bunny, I mean, Suguru for weeks? While you do what, exactly?" You grimaced when you corrected yourself, looking back at the door that the real Geto still hadn't walked through.
Once upon a lifetime ago, you actually had a crush on him, doodled his name in notebooks and dreamed about confessing your feelings in some cheesy way. But you'd grown up too, enough to recognize that even as adults, he paid much attention to you outside of polite 'hello's and whatever schemes Gojo roped him into.
"Who do you think has to handle his missions now?" Gojo hummed, ruffling your hair before you could smack his hand away, a cocky smile still on his face.
Unbothered to pick up the slack from his best friend's situation.
You weren't sure what was worse.
Being the one to handle Geto's workload or taking on the workload of handling him.
"I might need you to cover some of his classes too," Gojo added.
"Gojo," You groaned, having a hard time glancing over at the bunny astutely observing your conversation for more than a few seconds at a time.
"Just if, you know, he's like that for more than a week," Gojo gestured back again, like the black ball of fur could speak for itself.
There was no way it'd last that long.
Or you told yourself as much, snagging the pet carrier from the passenger seat of your car and slamming the door shut behind you as you glanced up at your apartment.
You were pretty sure Geto shared your sentiment judging by the faintly audible little grunts from inside the plastic cage, the sound of his nails scratching against the sides.
Oddly enough, you were nervous.
Stomach hurting and twisting with each step you took forward, unable to shake your discomfort and anxiety. He'd never been to your apartment under normal circumstances. Never seemed to see you as anything other than a semi-competent coworker to help Gojo tease.
The latter had been to your place before.
A few times, actually.
Finding excuses to show up at weird hours on his day off, sometimes bringing souvenirs from his missions or just to bother you when he was bored and Geto didn't want to hang out with him.
At least it meant he knew your address, boxes waiting for you by the door, the pet supplies Gojo mentioned having delivered before you left stacked up.
You had to nudge them over with your feet to have enough room to unlock the door and push it open.
"So, uh, this is my place," You cleared your throat, setting the cage down on the floor. Geto was already scratching at the door of it, little claws scraping over the metal bars.
You glanced around your very much not animal-proofed apartment, the dishes still left in the sink and the blanket wrinkled on the couch from where you'd stayed up late watching tv the night before.
"Sorry, I, um, guess I should set up your stuff first," You sighed, opening the door again to start dragging all the boxes back in and tearing them open. Settling onto the floor next to him, legs crossed as you started to take out the pen you'd have to put together, the bags of hay and pet bowls before tugging out toy after toy.
You wondered if Gojo just ordered express-delivery for anything marked bunny in the pet section.
"Sorry," You absentmindedly apologized again to Geto, not even sure what you were saying sorry for. Maybe for the fact he was stuck with you in the first place?
Was it weird to talk to him like that? As if he'd really be able to respond?
You thought it'd be weirder to act like it wasn't still him, to ignore the cues he was still trying to send.
He was shaking his head no inside the cage, displeased with your decision.
"You want out now?" You asked, chewing on the inside of your cheek as his head bobbed back up. You glanced around your place again before hesitantly reaching for the latch to unlock it. "Promise you won't like, chew on any wires or anything?"
You were pretty sure he was internally rolling his eyes at you.
Feeling even more like an idiot, you unlatched it, holding it open so he could hop out. He was sniffing the air, nose twitching. You couldn't tell if it was good or bad.
Whatever he decided, he was quick to sprint away, disappearing around the corner to assess the rest of his new surroundings, where he'd be living for the time being.
You tried not to let the discomfort stew too much, tried to dismiss how nervous you felt at having him here too, distracting yourself with putting together the pen and moving all your furniture to fit it against the wall, filling up a bowls with water and setting up a box with hay for him.
Just throwing in the chew toys with the rest of the stuff made you feel weird, icky treating him like he was your new pet.
Would he think it was pity rather than sympathy if you tried to express that to him? Or would he hate both?
You frowned, breaking down the last of the boxes and tossing them in the trash while you glanced around the floor, searching for a flash of black anywhere.
"Geto? Um, hey, I've got everything set up now?" You called out, peeking into the kitchen and not spotting him there either.
You'd daydreamed a few times about Suguru Geto being in your bedroom.
You just hadn't imagined he'd be chewing up your favorite fucking shoes.
"What the fuck?" You huffed, going to pick him up just for him to scamper away at the last second, growling at you. "You're buying me a new pair, asshole."
That little prick.
It wasn't like you did this to him. Like you even wanted him here.
"We can just fucking pretend none of this ever happened once it's over, okay?" You gritted your teeth, picking up your now-wrecked shoes and walking over to the small trash can in your connected bathroom. "That's what you want, right?"
The black ball of fuzz in front of you made a sound. What exactly it was, you didn't know. Didn't fucking care. But you were pretty sure it was as close as he could get to agreeing.
"Fine then," You huffed, chucking the once beloved pair in the trash can and fixing your stare back in the petulant beast by your feet. Acting out as if you weren't doing him a fucking favor to begin with.
But it was hard for the anger to hold when you were looking at the new him in front of you. Knowing it was probably torture to be trapped in something so small, so helpless he had to rely on a coworker he barely knew to take care of him.
Your frown softened, letting out a soft sigh as the lid for the trash can shut again.
"Once you're you, we can just go back to how it was before. We won't even have to talk again."
This was perhaps the most humiliating week of his life.
Suguru Geto was a man who could stomach almost anything. He had to. Forced to swallow curses, bite back the bile in his throat and learn to live with the taste of it.
But really, hay?
All he could fucking eat was hay? A piece of romaine lettuce? A few carrots? Blueberries if he was lucky?
The taste was fine, good even, to his changed taste buds and the way his brain was currently rewired, but you feeding it to him? Biting your lip and frowning while your fingers held it out for him to take? Like you felt sorry for him?
He hated it.
Hated being trapped here. The stupid pen where you put chew toys for him, the brush you tried to use to comb his fur no matter how many times he managed to wiggle free from your grip, how quickly you bunny-proofed the place, closing doors and putting up gates to keep him contained to the living room and your bedroom. Although, you kept your closet shut now after he'd taken out his frustrations on your shoes in a moment of weakness.
The first few days consisted of feeble attempts at communication, your face scrunching up when you tried to get him to blink once for yes and twice for no before you realized that was stupid. Then came the papers, your almost illegible scrawl in big letters to ask him if the food was okay, if he needed anything, your pout returning when he kept thumping over and over again on the one marked no.
He didn't know if he should be annoyed or appreciative when you returned home from a mission the next day with those push-to-talk buttons people supposedly trained their pets with.
The rational part of him understood how hard you were trying to help.
It didn't make the idea you were trying to tame him feel any less dehumanizing, training him like he really was your pet.
Forced cohabitation was bad enough. He wished you'd just act like he wasn't there. Leave him to eat the hay and watch the tv you never seemed to turn off and wait it out until he got his body back.
You even tried to put him in a fucking harness one afternoon when you came home earlier, cooing softly about taking him outside to get some sun and go on a walk. You gave up after he accidentally bit you when your hand got too close to his face while he squirmed his way out of it.
"Hey, um, Geto?" You called from the bedroom, voice muffled despite the open door.
His head snapped up to the sound automatically, nose twitching. That was another thing, how easily his prey instincts took control at the first hint of danger, reduced to feeling even more like a trapped animal by his own body.
He still found himself staring at you though.
You were dressed up.
Not in your usual work uniform or one of the casual outfits he'd seen you in whenever you tagged along with Satoru somewhere, but in a dark little dress and heels.
"I'm heading out for a few hours, um, sorry to leave you by yourself again," You apologized, when really all he was thinking was thank fucking god for some peace. "Do, uh, you want the tv on or-?"
Suguru thumped his back foot, the best he could do for a no without going through the series of questions that'd inevitably come if he showed an ounce of interest in those dumb buttons.
"Oh, okay," You nodded, jaw tensing as your eyes swept back over the room, looking for something. You didn't find it, returning back to your room and coming out a few minutes later with a purse hooked over your elbow. "Well, um, I'll be back in a bit."
Suguru watched the door shut behind you.
The silence was strange, the quiet he used to enjoy back in his own home drowning him here. Time took longer to pass, no phone or books or movies to distract him.
He missed reading. Missed reclining in his own bed, missed warm baths and washing his hair.
He didn't miss you.
Okay, that was sort of a lie.
Your company was comforting, in a strangling sort of way, weighing down on his conscience in your absence. All his needs were met. Food, water, entertainment. But he was still bored without you.
A bizarre itch that his hind legs couldn't scratch, one he couldn't run from, pacing pointless circles, paws leaving tracks on your soft bedroom rug.
Your scent was everywhere, on every surface, clinging to the clothes you'd left on the floor in your rush to get ready.
He was thankful you weren't here to see him burying his nose into a dress you discarded in a pile next to your half-empty laundry basket, sniffing and rubbing his cheeks and chin over it. Suguru didn't even fully understand why - one of those stupid instinctual urges that he couldn't resist.
"Geto?"
Shit.
He scurried back out to the living room before you made it past the couch, your heels already kicked off as you tossed your purse on the coffee table. You reached up to cover your mouth while you yawned, steps wobbling a little, like you'd been out drinking. He noticed it then - how the hem of your dress was rolled up on your thighs, clinging to the skin, eyes glossed over and tired.
Drinking? Or a date?
He didn't think you had a boyfriend.
Satoru would've known, would've pestered you about it or complained to him about you having a social life outside of work. He'd even tried to set the two of you up a few times, although Suguru usually shot down the idea. He'd never been that interested in having a real relationship with anyone - assumed you were the same way. But that didn't mean you couldn't hook up, have casual flings on your nights off.
It bothered Suguru.
Much more than he cared to confess.
He stared while you half-collapsed on the couch, curling up on your side and reaching for the remote on the table to turn the TV on before sighing and shutting it back off. Rolling over onto your back to just blink at the ceiling overhead.
He was tempted to actually use the buttons for once, to smack the one that said where to see if you'd actually tell him how you spent your night away from him.
To convince himself that the only reason he was so irritated was the fact that you could leave and he couldn't.
"Hey," You murmured, turning your head to glance over at him.
Suguru wasn't sure what he'd say even if could reply.
Just staring at you when you sighed again, sitting back up and shuffling off the couch, disappearing down the hall into your bedroom.
Usually, you'd stick around, hang out in the living room and kitchen, absentmindedly talking to him while you went about your evenings. He waited for you to come back out, eyeing the empty spot where you'd just been.
You didn't come back out though, no soft hum of your voice talking to yourself or the quiet pitter patter of the shower running either.
And yeah, he hated to hop, but he was hesitantly hopping through the hall until he reached your cracked open door, poking his head through and scanning the room for you.
You had changed into a tiny pair of shorts, a loose t-shirt, sprawled out in your bed and reading with your head propped up on a pillow.
It was easy to imagine you spending your nights like this.
An uncomfortable feeling was settling in his stomach, mouth dry at feeling like an intruder, an interloper in your home.
You sensed him there, maybe heading the quiet creak of the door, glancing over your shoulder.
He expected a frown. Or even just a blank expression, something polite.
But you smiled instead, one corner of your mouth barely curling up, features softening. Warm. As if you were actually happy to see him.
"Bored?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. Suguru took a small step closer, nudging the door open further. Your smile grew at the affirmation. "Want up here?"
He bobbed his head just once. The most his pride would allow. You were quick to hop off the bed, scooping his off the floor and plopping him down on the bed.
Your touch was delicate, careful. Hands that held him like he was something precious, or breakable.
It dawned on him that it wasn't because he was. That it wasn't because you were looking down at him. But because you respected him enough to care he was comfortable.
The realization didn't help how fast his new heart was beating.
You flopped back down next to him, holding out your book and flipping back to the page you left off on.
"Satoru said you like to read," You commented, eyes on the words ahead rather than him. It was true, but for some stupid reason, he was stuck on the fact you could so casually said Satoru, when he usually only ever heard you use Gojo in front of him. The only time he ever heard you say Suguru was when you thought he wasn't there, only overheard in your conversations with Satoru as if he was a frequent topic of conversation.
He never thought he'd want to know what you used to talk about before as badly as he did now.
He tried to make a humming sound, to actually reply to you for once, wondering if you'd smile again.
You did.
"I can, uh, read out loud if you want? Or pick up some audiobooks for you to listen to while I'm on missions?" You offered.
He nodded again, taking a small hop next to you, his fur brushing against your skin as he laid out next to you, nose twitching at the sweet scent of your perfume. Just your perfume.
And secretly?
Suguru was glad you didn't smell like someone else.
The you from a few weeks ago wouldn't have believed it.
Somehow, someway, Suguru Geto had slowly started to settle into his role of a spoiled house pet. Your spoiled house pet.
He'd wait near the door for you to get back, although, your started to cut a few corners to get out of missions as soon as possible, wrapping up lessons early and sending the students for treats or shopping to give them a break so you could return to him faster. You'd set up audiobooks for him to listen to, buying a speaker just for him to be able to hear it properly and connecting it to an old tablet so he could listen during the day. He'd been more willing to communicate, letting you carry him up to the TV to pick out shows and movies to watch together or picking out what fruits he wanted from the fridge.
It was nice to not be alone.
You guessed he felt the same.
Sniffing at your clothes, his nose twitching when he picked up on the faint scent of Gojo clinging to your shirt just to rub his chin over it. Sitting on your lap and letting you stroke his soft fur while he made a quiet sort of purr to let you know he was content.
He'd even started letting you brush him without protest, let you check his sharp little teeth poking out, not that you really knew what you were looking for despite how many articles you read and videos about bunny dental care you watched.
"Pretty boy," You murmured, scratching behind his ears how you knew he liked.
It was easy to forget sometimes that your precious pet was really a fully-grown man and your former coworker.
What would happen when he transformed back? Or what if he didn't?
You were pretty sure he had to. An inevitability.
Each day brought new doubts, concerns that were getting harder to hide when you woke up and he was still this furry version of him.
You couldn't read his mind. But you suspected he'd gotten used to it the same way you'd gotten used to him.
Started looking forward to you coming home in the evenings while you spent your days thinking about being curled up on the couch with him, his comforting weight on your chest while he let you pet him.
Even with your new routine, you were still painfully aware your rabbit wasn't one.
"Long day, huh?" You muttered, yawning as you continued to stroke his fur. "Me too."
Gojo had left on some mission last night, leaving you to juggle his students and Geto's, dragging them with you to take care of lower grade curses across the city before returning them to the school, scuffed up and dirt-stained.
There was a knock at the door, loud enough you jumped, and Geto did too. Little nails scratched at the bare skin of your thighs below your shorts, scurrying off your lap to your side. You swallowed hard, glancing down at him before reluctantly standing up.
"Probably just food," You mumbled, picking up a slice of the apple you'd cut up for him earlier, holding it out for him to nibble on before you walked over to answer the door and get your own dinner for the night.
Technically it was.
It was just in the hands of a white-haired imbecile.
"How's my favorite two people, er, friends?" Gojo corrected himself, stepping inside and past you before you could stop him. He half-tossed over on your coffee table, squatting down to look at his best friend turned bunny.
"You could've called," You frowned, sighing as you shut the door behind him. "Or texted."
The disruption made you nervous. Convinced you that it was some sign of change, that for all you knew, it'd go back to before, getting the cold shoulder from a fucking rabbit.
"Can't I just check in on you two?" Gojo whined, reaching out like he was about to pick Suguru up by the scruff of his neck.
"Don't grab him like that, it could hurt him," You huffed, stomping over just for infinity to stop you before you could pull him back.
"Fine, fine," He groaned, and you didn't need to see his eyes to know he was rolling them under the blindfold. "So protective."
"Whatever."
Suguru stomped, letting out a soft little growl at how close Gojo was. But you weren't sure what annoyed him more - Gojo's proximity to you or him.
"You got anything sweet?" Gojo didn't let the topic linger, distracting you as he started pushed aside the plate with apples and pulled out your to-go box, lips curling down at its contents.
"I dunno," You shrugged. "I'll look in the kitchen."
You ended up scrounging through most of the shelves in your pantry and half your fridge before you finally found an ice cream bar in the back of your freezer, sighing as you went to return to the living room.
But you paused before you entered at the sound of Gojo still talking, holding Suguru up in the air while he tried to kick his paws and free himself. You almost giggled at the sight, already thinking all the different ways Suguru would surely find to get him back for it later.
"I bet you don't even wanna go back to normal, huh?" Gojo teased, cocking his head to the side while Suguru just let out another little bunny growl at him.
"Hey," You announced your presence, barely keeping the grin off your face as you stepped inside and Gojo quickly returned Suguru to the couch, attempting to look innocent.
Suguru was quick to hop back in your lap the second you sat down as you handed the ice cream bar over to Gojo, despite the fact it felt a bit like rewarding a baby for bad behavior. You grabbed another apple slice to make up to Suguru for it, automatically smiling when he started eating it.
"He lets you feed him?"
For the first time in the past few weeks, the idea of what came next didn't feel quite so scary. That it didn't have to be awkward or unfamiliar.
It wasn't so insane to think you weren't just coworkers or awkward acquaintances anymore. Things didn't have to be weird when this was over, or you'd have to go back to pretending you didn't notice him in every room you were in together.
Still though, you couldn't shake the small part of you that hoped for something more.
Where were you?
You'd shown up late a few times, but only ever an hour or two. Suguru was too short to see the clock on the stove, but he'd watched the sky shift outside from the fading pink of sunset to pitch black, with only the glow from the tv and the tiny lamp you'd forgotten to turn off in your bedroom to cut through the dark of your apartment.
The show you switched on for him earlier shut off at the end of the season, stuck on the same loading screen waiting for someone to press a button on the remote. Which, unfortunately, you'd left on the kitchen counter in your rush getting ready this morning, just out of his jumping height if he even wanted to try.
He'd been a little annoyed at first. He knew you'd feel bad about it when you got back, probably pick him up and apologize with a cute pout, nuzzling him against your chest or cuddling on the couch to make it up to him. He just wanted you to show up already so you could. Absentmindedly stomping his foot waiting for the click of the key in the lock, for you to shuffle through after the door swung open.
But it didn't come.
It didn't help that ten minutes felt more like an hour in this body. That with no way to measure time other than the episodes auto-playing and changing daylight from the window, the seconds stretched out, the hours dragged on until it felt more like days since he'd last seen you.
He tried to remember what you were rambling about this morning, if you mentioned anything about being late. But nothing stood out. You were teaching his students today, then a mission, right?
You mentioned that Nanami was supposed to come along, so surely, between the two of you, you could take care of even a special grade if you had to.
Or maybe you had, and you were out getting drinks with him. Maybe you were in the backseat of his car, letting him undress you and pull you onto his lap. Fiddling with his belt or running your fingers through his short hair-
The lock flipped.
Suguru had already made himself mad though, stomping his back feet before you even pushed the door open, uneven footsteps stumbling through. Haughty as he held his little bunny head up high, planning on giving you the silent treatment until he heard your shaky breathing.
His heart was beating too fast, blood roaring in his ears frozen in place listening to the slam of the door behind you, your footsteps pausing as you leaned against it, holding your side with one hand.
"Shit, Suguru, sorry," You mumbled, your voice weak. "Just, fuck, give me a few minutes."
Your body was shaking, from adrenaline or anxiety, taking uneasy steps forward and bracing yourself on the couch once you were close enough.
He wished he could see you clearer, all the wrong colors and the slightly blurrier bunny vision he was confined by made it hard to tell how hurt you were, how much blood was on your already dark clothes other than what had seeped through to stain your hands.
"It's not that bad," You said it like you weren't wincing, choking down the lump in your throat as you walked towards the bathroom. Suguru couldn't do anything except follow. Couldn't steady you, couldn't hold your hand or help you sit and clean up your wounds the way he wanted to.
Shit. Why the fuck hadn't you gone to Shoko?
Why hadn't Nanami dragged you back to her?
Suguru would've.
It slipped his mind that you weren't as strong as him. That you didn't have RCT. Watching you swallow the pain, forcing yourself to keep moving until you were shoving the door to the bathroom open, eyes glazed over and exhausted as you gripped the counter hard and rumbled through the cabinets for a first aid kit.
Half-collapsing on the closed lid of the toilet seat and rummaging through for gauze to press down on the wound through the torn fabric of your shirt.
It was almost funny, he thought Gojo was full of shit before. Of course, he wanted to turn back, of course he wanted everything to be normal again.
But his best friend knew him better. Was right for once.
He hadn't wanted that - he liked being with you, liked this limbo of long days spent in the comfort of your home and nights spent in your bed.
Suguru liked you.
It just hadn't struck him until now, when he was ready to throw all of that away to be able to help.
He needed his body back.
Needed to do anything other than watch every excruciating wince and flinch as you wiped it clean. You made a small noise when you went to pull off your ripped and blood-stained shirt, balling it up and throwing it in the sink to soak so you could examine the slash across your side better.
"It looks worse than it is," You spoke so quietly it was hard for him to hear. Trying to comfort him when he should be comforting you.
He should be carrying you to Shoko, cradling you against his chest and wiping away the tears brimming at your lashes.
You wiped them yourself though, swiping with the back of your hand just to leave a streak of blood across your cheek.
"I'll see Shoko in the morning," You excused, steadying your voice as you went through each step. Popping a few painkillers before disinfecting it, struggling to patch it up, hands shaking through unsteady stitches before you finished bandaging it up.
You didn't look at him.
Suguru wanted to know what you were thinking.
He had to make himself hop himself forward, rubbing his head around your ankles to forced your attention down to him.
"Hey," You muttered, balling up the plastic wrapping of the bandaid and tossing it in the trash can. "You don't have to feel bad. I'm okay."
You weren't that convincing when you couldn't even bend over to pick him up or pet him.
He stayed by your feet while you cleaned up the first aid, filling up the sink to soak your shirt before you walked back to your bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and preemptively wincing at the thought of finishing changing. Suguru pulled at your shoelaces to untie them for you, loathing just how little he could do to help.
You laughed, something short, sweet, leaning over to pull your shoes off, carefully lifting him up and placing him on the bed. Even the simple movement seemed to hurt, your face scrunching up as you sucked in another breath.
"Thanks, Suguru," You sighed leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead.
He needed you to kiss him again - the real him.
You felt him first.
Someone's arm was wrapped around you, your cheek pressed against something firm and warm, smooth skin and hard muscles practically suffocating you. The blanket was still pulled up around your, your limbs tangled in the fabric while the weight of him kept you there.
Him sleeping on top of you was fine when he was like, eight pounds. He weighed a lot fucking more as a human.
Blinking back surprise, trying to squirm free just for Suguru to grumble something incoherent in his sleep and hold you tighter.
"Sugu, shit, Geto," You groaned as you corrected yourself, managing to pull your arms free to start pushing him off. Your side still hurt from yesterday, a dull throb that ached with every movement.
He just readjusted instead, moving down to nuzzle his head back into your neck, long dark hair splayed out and tickling your face, still too asleep to realize he wasn't a small bunny anymore.
"You're heavy," You complained, and he stirred, his body going stiff the second it hit him why.
"Fuck."
His voice was hoarse and raw, like it hurt to use. It took him a second to start moving, every motion slow, sluggish while he untangled himself from you. You tried not to stare, sitting up in your bed while he stood, but your eyes had a mind of their own, raking over his body to realize he was very much naked.
You made a small noise, immediately looking away and throwing the blanket at him to cover up.
"Um, okay, well, I'm, uh, gonna call Gojo so he can get you some clothes," You rambled, covering your eyes with one hand and fumbling for your phone where you could've sworn you left it on the nightstand before you fell asleep.
A warm hand brushed against yours, goosebumps going up your arm as sturdy fingers skimmed over your skin. It took you a painfully long second to realized he was holding your phone out for you to take.
"Thanks," You choked out, grabbing it and crawling out the other side of the bed so you wouldn't accidentally bump into him. "You can just, uh, use my bathroom to shower or take a bath or whatever."
You were scurrying out before he could reply clutching your phone like a shield to save you from the sheer awkwardness.
In your hurry, you hadn't realized you'd torn your sloppy stitches until you felt something damp through your shirt as you slammed the door behind you and started frantically thumbing through your contacts for Satoru.
"Shit," You muttered, hitting the call button and tucking it between your ear and shoulder and hurrying to the other bathroom to clean it back up, choking down a few more pain killers dry as the phone rang.
"Good morning, princess," An annoyingly chipper voice answered right as you perched yourself on the edge of the bathroom counter.
"I need you to come over," You cut straight to the point, hoping he didn't hear the tremble to your voice when you pressed down on your wound with a fresh piece of gauze. "Suguru's back to normal. And, um, naked."
"I'd never say no to you, but a threesome at nine in the morning is a little early, baby."
"Please just bring him some clothes, idiot," You gritted your teeth, bracing yourself as you disinfected it again.
You really just needed to go see Shoko, but you wanted to make sure Suguru was fine first.
"So no-"
"I'm hanging up now, be here in the next five minutes before I have to maim you," You warned, ending the call before he could say head.
Your side fucking hurt, grinding your molars just replaying the memory of that stupid curse catching you off guard after you thought you killed it.
Nanami had tried to convince you to call Shoko, but it was her night off, and she was out on some date. You didn't want to drag her away unless you were actually actively dying.
Although, you might need to interrupt her morning after now.
There was a sharp knock on the bathroom door, and you forced yourself back on your feet.
Gojo probably fucking teleported straight into your living room.
You glanced around the bathroom, pulling a bathrobe off the door and wrapping it around yourself, tying a bow around the waist.
But when you swung the door open, Suguru was standing there, sculpted chest on display, one of your towels slung low on his hips and his hair damp and long.
Your mouth fell open, but you couldn't find the words when your eyes met his.
His face was pulled tight, jaw clenched as his dark eyes assessed you.
Your heart sank.
Punctured and peppered with holes, disappointment flooding in and drowning you with just a single stern expression from him.
Before you could linger on it, before he could really shove your head under, the energy in the room shifted, and Gojo popped in behind him.
"Sup, Suguru?" He casually greeted, slapping a hand on his shoulder.
Geto twisted around to scowl at his best friend. Gojo just chuckled, pushing the change of clothes he'd brought against his chest before glancing over at you.
"Cute bed head," Gojo commented, stepping around his friend to ruffle your mused hair.
"Shut up," You huffed, smacking his fingers away.
Suguru slotted himself between you before Gojo could do it again.
"She's hurt," Suguru spoke slowly, still frowning. "Take her to Shoko."
"God, you're both so bossy this morning," Gojo complained, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him, peeking out from beneath his blindfold to squint at you. "How bad is it?"
"I can drive myself," You grumbled, cutting a glare at Suguru.
Really? You'd taken care of him for a month and the first thing he did was rat you out to Gojo?
"Whatever, I'll just take you," Gojo shrugged, slipping his blindfold back down and tugging you closer so you could teleport together.
You were staring at Suguru though.
Forced to look up at him now, all the softness gone, replaced by sharp lines and harsh edges. You didn't know what sort of face you were making, didn't want to when you were sure it was probably tinged with hurt or worse, longing. Caught somewhere between devastation and desire when you couldn't tell what new box he'd put you in now, or if he'd just returned you to the one you'd been stuck in before, barely more than coworkers.
That was what you promised him, right?
What you kidded yourself into thinking wouldn't be hard, no matter how much you liked his presence, how much you convince yourself there was some silent connection you shared.
You couldn't read his face anymore.
And then it was gone, replaced by trees, standing outside of the campus. Gojo was digging his phone out to text Shoko for you.
"Want me to carry you in?" He offered, shoving his hands back in his pockets to pull out loose candy and toss it in his mouth.
"No," You grimaced. "It's fine."
You could take care of yourself.
You'd been perfectly okay on your own before.
It was just a little hard to pretend it was the same when Ijichi gave you a ride home a couple hours later, returning to a quiet apartment with no one to greet you.
Stepping over a few bunny toys left out the day before, walking around empty rooms, starkly aware of just how alone you were.
Even the days felt longer, the silence louder, stretching out and surrounding you.
And yeah, you were still fine, but you ended up taking more missions just to fill the time, to give you an excuse not to return back to your room. Not to the point of really exhausting yourself, but enough that you wouldn't have to think. You avoided stepping foot back on campus, no matter how many times Gojo invited you to join his lesson plans, only going to see Shoko when absolutely necessary.
It wasn't that you didn't want to see Suguru, although it was part of it.
You just didn't know if you'd be able to keep your word if you did.
He probably just wanted to forget.
Didn't want to be dragged back to how it felt to be so small if he saw you.
The first time you bumped into him was when he was in the middle of arguing with Nanami in the latter's office, arms folded across his chest and that casually cold stare still on his face while they bickered about something.
"Um, sorry, I needed your signature on some stuff, Kento," You interrupted, forcing yourself to focus on your blond colleague as he sighed as pushed his goggles back up his nose.
"Sure."
You felt Suguru's eyes sticking to your back as you walked away.
There was a shoebox waiting for you when you got home that night, a brand new pair of shoes to replace the ones he destroyed.
You guessed it was just his way of upholding your deal.
The first time you talked to him was a couple weeks later when him and Gojo made an appearance in Shoko's office the second she stepped out after treating you.
"Hey," He spoke first, brows knitted together, searching your face for something.
"Hi," You echoed back, avoiding his sharp gaze in favor of the floor, the desk, anything.
"You're hurt?" His once silky voice still sounded raw, too low, not quite as smooth as it used to be.
"Not anymore," You shook your head.
"You shouldn't push yourself so hard," He frowned again, stepping closer. You hopped off the table you were sitting on, brushing past his broad chest to get by.
"Thanks for the concern," You muttered.
Obligatory concern wasn't of any interest to you. Whatever debt he might feel towards you, you didn't care to cash in. But a clean slate felt impossible when he'd stationed himself in every corner of your mind.
You'd started considering transferring back to Kyoto, started wondering if it was even worth staying when you just felt so weird about everything now.
Stopping a pet stores on the way home, scooping up bunnies and playing with cats and debating on if you really needed a companion. Or maybe just a date.
You'd been lounging on your couch and swiping through apps for the latter when someone started pounding impatiently on your door.
"You look like you could use a drink."
It was a stupid idea, every one Gojo had was, but you begrudgingly accepted, getting changed into a short dress and letting him drag you down the stairs to your car. He pretended to be a gentleman enough to open the driver's door for you before proceeding to be the passenger princess he actually was, sliding into the shotgun seat and flipping the radio stations on the drive to the bar.
You should've known better.
Because who else would be waiting in a booth for you when you got there?
Really, you should've left.
But you stayed, letting Gojo tug you over to join his best friend, ordering drinks and shots, careful to only drink enough for the warmth to set in, to feel the fuzz in your chest but not get too tipsy that you wouldn't let anything slip.
Gojo on the other hand?
It only took him one drink to dredge up everything you'd been avoiding for the past few weeks.
"C'mon, you'd take care of me if I got turned into, I dunno, a dog, right?" Gojo whined, slurring already, his infinity switching off as he flopped into your lap. He rarely drank - a sight you probably would've savored some other time, snapped some photos of to blackmail him later. He readjusted so his head was reclining on your thighs, fingers pulling back his blindfold so he could blink his big blue eyes up at you.
"You'd probably be a mouse, if anything," You teased, flicking his forehead.
"Nuh-uh," He argued, catching your wrist, small little flickers of energy tingling your skin that he couldn't control, pulling your hand until it was resting in his hair.
"Uh-huh," You giggled, combing through the soft short strands with your fingers.
"I'd take care of you if-"
There was loud thud, almost a heavy stomp, and it took you a second for it to click that someone had. Another to realize who.
You supposed some of Suguru's bunny brain was still there, a few little habits left he hadn't kicked.
"Satoru," Geto scolded, his whiskey glass hitting the table with a harsh clink. You glanced up to see his mouth set in a polite smile you knew was pretend. Fake and forced on, trying not to crack or twitch. "Get off."
"Fine," Gojo huffed and groaned, almost rolling onto the floor in his attempt to push off the booth and your legs to get up.
But you were busy watching his best friend, who, if you weren't mistaken, looked distinctly jealous?
You were torturing him.
He finally had his body back and here you were, torturing him.
The unsure glances you'd toss his way when you thought he wasn't looking, your soft words now addressing him politely, all the intimacy in them removed. The worst part was you weren't even avoiding him, just adhering to the stupid agreement from that first day and pretending the entire month never happened.
He didn't know how to make it more obvious he didn't want that.
But every time he stopped by your apartment, you weren't there. You were never at the school anymore either, always on some mission or with your nose buried in paperwork.
He left the shoes by your door, hoping to hear something, anything, just to get more of the same silence.
It took suggesting to Satoru that the three of you go out for drinks to get you to even come within five feet of him.
And watching this almost made him wish he hadn't.
You let Satoru plop himself down on your lap, giggling with him, petting him. Playing with his hair, fingers sifting through it how you used to stroke Suguru's fur.
Okay, he hadn't meant to thump his foot, just a leftover reflex. But it was better than grabbing Satoru by his collar and dragging him back to a sitting position.
He was only half-aware of what he was saying, if he even offered an excuse, only relaxing once Satoru sat up. His best friend yawning and stretching, digging his phone out of his pocket to check the time.
"Oops," He chuckled. "Ijichi's been waiting outside for me. You want a ride, sweetheart?"
You shook your head, but your eyes flickered over to Suguru, waiting to see if he reacted to Satoru's offer. Or maybe hoping he'd counter with one of his own.
"I'm okay, thanks though," You replied, lips pressed in a thin smile.
"Suit yourself," Satoru sighed, practically pushing Suguru out of the booth so he could get out. He tossed more than enough to cover the bill for all three of you in the table before lifted up one corner of his blindfold again, winking at Suguru before he started to turn. "Make sure she gets home safe, alright?"
The second he was gone though, you were flustered, shrugging before he even said anything.
"Could I buy you another drin-"
"You really don't have to," You accidentally interrupted, blushing and looking down at your hands in your lap. "I meant, about Satoru said, but, uh, to the drink too."
"I want to."
"It's fine," You insisted, but your smile was forced, practiced. "It was nice seeing you tonight though."
"Just nice?" He baited, barely able to keep a straight face when yours turned into a pout.
You pushed off the table, slipping out of the booth, tilting your head to the side with a conflicted expression. "Good night, Geto."
Suguru was following you out with a small frown this time.
"Suguru," He corrected. How many times had he stomped and grunted to get you to call him that in bunny form? Just for you to go back to his last name the second he was a sorcerer again?
"Good night, Suguru," You hummed. There was a hint of teasing there, a faint smile on your face he barely got a glimpse of before you walked a little faster out the exit.
"You're tired?" He asked, fresh air hitting him first as the door thudded shut behind him as he followed you outside.
"Not really." You probably only acknowledged it because you knew he'd been around you enough to know it'd be a lie otherwise.
He wanted to ask you to stay, or to leave with him instead.
"I should probably head home now," You swallowed, glancing between your feet before back out to the street ahead.
"Where's your car?"
"It's like a ten minute walk from here, I, uh, couldn't find parking," You mumbled, still not looking at him, putting yet another step between you he immediately bridged.
His hand grabbed the hem of your shirt, pinching it in his fingers lightly, just enough to get you to stop before you could slip away again.
"You wanna ride?" Suguru offered. Flying over the city at nighttime on his dragon was romantic, right? He could wrap an arm around your waist (to keep you steady, of course), watch the twinkling lights below and feel the cool breeze on your skin.
"I'm sorta scared of heights," You sheepishly admitted, shrugging your shoulders apologetically. "But thanks."
"Let me walk you there then," He insisted.
"Figured you'd probably want to just crash at your own place," You dismissed, staring straight ahead rather than looking at him.
"I wouldn't mind going back to yours," He smoothly answered back, letting go of your shirt to see if you'd try to break away again.
"Yeah?" You were cautious, eyes flicking up to his.
"Yeah."
He walked next to you, the quiet break in conversation comfortable, studying your side profile while you lead the way to your car.
"I'd take care of you," Suguru murmured under his breath. He wasn't even sure he actually said it, or if he had and the quiet footfalls on the pavement and the passing cars drowned him out.
"You'd, um, what?" You finally said, stealing another peek up at him. Your hand brushed against his, just barely, and it took everything in him not to hold it, not to interlock his fingers with yours and refuse to let go.
"If it ever happened to you," He replied, completely serious even if you were staring at him like you understood him better as a bunny.
He could practically see the gears turning in your head, like you were trying to decide how to interpret it before you landed on a joke.
"Yeah, you'd save me from being neglected or overfed at Gojo's?" You hummed, looking back at the street ahead.
"Sure," Suguru said.
"How kind of you," You laughed a little, folding your arms across yourself as a brittle breeze cut through the air, fighting back a shiver.
He took his jacket off, and you paused, staring at him with your face scrunched up, mouth parted like you wanted to tell him it was yet another thing he didn't need to do, no sound came out. He took the opportunity to help slip it on you himself, brushing your hair out of the way as you pulled it around your shoulders.
"Thanks," You blushed.
He wished he'd just listened to Satoru the first time he suggested you would make a cute couple a year ago, asked you out himself, wished there wasn't all this time wasted when you could've been his.
He refused to waste any more.
Opening the car door for you when you finally made it there, getting in the passenger seat and watching you scramble to turn the radio station to music you remembered he liked, adjusting the temperature and chuckling when you asked again if he really wanted to go to your place.
You still came up with a cute excuse after he said yes, claiming you had a book you thought he'd like, to pretend he was coming over just to borrow something.
As if it was too hard to believe you were what he liked, you were what he wanted.
"It's a little messy, but I guess you've seen it look worse," You muttered, lips pursed together as you rummaged through your bag for your key. He leaned against the door, one corner of his mouth quirking up as you threw him an apologetic look.
You found the key, turning it in the lock and pushing the door open, letting him in first.
The first thing he noticed was the bunny pen still up. Although the bowls were empty now.
"You kept everything," He commented, unsure what the weird feeling in his chest was. It was cloying, some thick nostalgia that clouded his judgement when everything was almost the same as he left it, although it all felt much, well, smaller.
You kicked off your heels, laughing a little when Suguru automatically started helping you shrug off his jacket, his fingertips grazing against your skin.
"I've been thinking about adopting a real one," You casually answered, a faint blush flooding your cheeks like you were embarrassed about it. Jealousy? Annoyance? Whatever it was, he felt absolutely territorial and entirely idiotic over the panic seizing inside him at the thought of you replacing him with a new pet. "It's been kinda weird adjusting, you know?"
"Oh," He murmured, attention sweeping back over your living room. It still smelled like you. Your perfume lingered in the air, but it was more than that, or maybe he was just more sensitive to it now. "It's been hard for me too."
"Really?" You breathed a sigh of relief, glancing back over your shoulder at him with that small smile he used to fall asleep next to.
"Yeah," He confirmed, pushing down the lump in his throat.
"Being alone-"
"I miss you," He interrupted before you could keep skirting around it, before you could find another excuse to pretend you didn't hate his absence the way he hated yours.
"I, uh, you what?" You squeaked, sounding just like the mouse you accused Satoru of being.
"I miss you," Suguru repeated, a tentative hand on your waist to twist you around so he could see your face in full. Watch your eyes widen and pretty lips part in surprise while you tried to work out if you meant it how you hoped he did.
"I missed you too," You quietly admitted, as if it was something to feel guilty for.
"I haven't stopped thinking about you," Suguru continued, tracing up your sides with long fingers, then back down to your hips.
He wanted to hold you this time instead of the other way around.
"I-"
You stopped yourself when he pulled you closer, your chest pressed against his, sucking in a sharp inhale.
But you broke eye contact, glancing away sheepishly. He followed your stare over to your messy coffee table, noticing the papers scattered across the surface. One word caught his eye, transfer in big and bold letters.
"What's that?" The panic from before flared up hard now.
You wouldn't leave.
You couldn't.
"Oh, um," You paused, embarrassed. "I was just considering transferring back to help them out. It's not like you guys really need me here."
"Do I not need you?" For once, he sort of wished he was more like Gojo.
He would throw himself down on his knees and beg you to stay.
Suguru could barely stand to even stare at you, loathed the longing in his voice when he waited for your answer.
"Do you?" You echoed quietly.
"I do," Suguru admitted, feeling something inside himself crack at the honesty.
"Suguru," You said his name like you weren't convinced.
"If you go, I'll go too."
He almost surprised himself. But he wasn't going to let life take the one thing he ever truly wanted from him, not this time.
"If you're just doing this because you feel like, you owe me or something idiotic like that," You started again, clearing your throat and trying to strengthen your resolve despite how close you were to giving in, your bottom lip starting to quiver.
"I'm doing this because I like you," Suguru chuckled.
You let him pick you up this time, wrapping your legs around his waist and your wrists around his neck, so badly wanting to believe him. Looking up at him like your whole world was in his hands when he carried you back to your room.
He half-tossed you onto the bed, hands almost shaking when they hovered over your body. He was nervous, but it felt like it had when he first transformed back, like all his proportions were suddenly wrong again, struggling to control his fingers and force them to move how they once did. Not nimble or deliberate, but messy, needy.
"Suguru," You purred so prettily, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering up at him with warm eyes. He settled on caressing your cheek, feeling the flush under your skin. "If you change your-"
"I'm not changing it," He murmured, sucking a sharp breath. He'd stay where you were, or follow where you went. Nothing had been simpler.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him on top of you, and he was struck again by how different your room felt. How tiny the bed seemed than the last time you were under him.
Then there was you.
Tangling your fingers in his hair and returning his stare, wondering if the little glints of adoration were really in your eyes or just a reflection of his own. You smelled sweeter in person, up close like this, but what he couldn't stop thinking about was your taste.
Of all the things he'd forced down his throat, rolled over his taste buds and struggled to swallow, you were the first he wanted to savor.
"Stop staring at me like that then," You let out a light huff, bottom lip sticking out. He wanted to bite it.
Your eyes fluttered shut when his nose nuzzled against yours, expecting the kiss before his mouth pressed against yours, and he was barely surprising the urge to lap at your bottom lip and beg for entry.
But you were always good at anticipating his needs, already parting your lips to let him in, your legs starting to wrap around his waist before his free hand snagged one of your thighs and pressed it down into your soft mattress.
Suguru was pretty sure he found heaven in your kiss. Divine karma repaying him for every putrid curse he'd choked down, lost between the cherry chapstick on your lips and the wine on your tongue when it slid against his.
He wanted to claim you.
Make you his in body and word and mind.
He was yours. He'd scratched and stomped and tried to fight it but it was true, wasn't it? His heart had already been cut out and you had already signed your name on it, permanently stamped him with a return to: label like he could somehow get lost when there was already an invisible leash connecting him to you.
Pulling away to breathe was hard enough. But seeing your tiny smile start to curl up, you eyes glossy and bright as they locked with his, his lungs could've collapsed at how pretty he thought you looked.
"Kiss me again," You quietly requested.
He'd kiss you as many times as you let him.
Returning his mouth to yours, offering warm open-mouth kisses like promises, loyalty and love and lust all wrapped up in his soft lips sucking on yours.
His free hand snuck between the increasingly narrow space between your body and his, tugging up your dress until he could see the pretty little lace underwear you'd worn underneath it.
"Cute," He commented, pulling away so he could them down, taking his time shimmying the flimsy fabric down your thighs, despite how badly he wanted to just rip it off in one go.
Your face was flushed, watching him with wide eyes as he tossed the panties into the laundry basket before prying your thighs apart all the way. He paused, removing his own clothes piece by piece, cock already swollen as it smacked up against his dark happy trail, pre-cum beading up along his pink tip.
Satisfaction swelled in his chest to see how soaked you were, his new favorite feast sprawled out for him.
Suguru flipped you over onto your stomach, pushing your face down and propping you up on your knees, nudging them open just enough for him to fit between them.
His second taste of you had him convinced he would never be able to get enough. Licking a clean stripe up your thighs to your entrance, pushing his tongue in deeper, flattening it as it danced inside.
"Sh-shit," You mumbled, completely flustered now, and he could just picture the pretty blush on your face, your next breath stolen as he practiced more drawn-out swirls.
His fingers leaving indents in your soft skin, the pliant muscles tensing with every squeeze of his hands.
Hearing your moans and shaky breathing only made him work harder, exploring every spot he'd stretch out later, determined to hear his name from your lips again. Devote each and every ministration of his mouth to you. His pretty girl.
"You like that?" He broke away to murmur right as you started making broken little whimpers into the mattress.
"Mm, mhm," You moaned, squirming under his grip.
"Wanna hear you, sweetheart," He sighed, pulling away just enough to admire the view one more time, tempted to leave scattered bites and kisses all over your thighs to make it just that much sweeter.
"Suguru," You huffed a complaint, all whiny and adorable as you barely found the strength to lift your head. "Keep going."
Your impatient whine might've worked on another man.
But Suguru had been patient before. Had waited for you to come back around to him. He'd be taking care of you the rest of his life, but he still wanted each second to last.
He couldn't help it, bending down to plant a kiss on the back of your thigh, letting his teeth sink in just enough to leave a small hickey, continuing up to leave a trail of them along your thighs while you made muffled noises.
"I asked you a question, baby," He reminded you, spreading your thighs apart as he left another peck close enough you had to feel his breath ghosting over your sensitive clit, almost jolting at the phantom sensation.
"You know I like it, Sugu-" You gasped when his tongue slipped back inside, surprised at the sudden warmth.
And yeah, he did, but you were clueless how much he loved it.
Loved every noise he pulled out of you, how you melted in him, let him pull you in and squeezed so tightly at every grunt and groan he made.
Adored every time you said his name, listening to your harsh exhales and watching you grip the blankets underneath you like you could crumble at any moment.
When you did? Falling apart after he slipped his hand around to your front, massaging careful circles against your aching bud until you were trembling, only held up by his arms around you?
Suguru was pretty fucking sure he was in love.
All that patience had evaporated, drained somewhere he couldn't access, need of his own taking over as he climbed back on top of you, lining himself up and barely holding himself back as he sank into you.
Half the street probably heard his groan, and your neighbors absolutely heard your pretty mewl of his name when his hands gripped your hips so mean to hold you there.
"Fuck, oh fuck, you're so-"
"Sugu," You whined, interrupting him and wiggling your hips as you tried to force him in all the way.
His composure, the control he'd cling to, both were quickly unraveling.
The sight of you bent over, his cock half-concealed inside you while you clenched around him so sinfully to suck him in?
He could probably cum from that alone.
Suguru clenched his jaw, staving it off as he slowly pushed in deeper, counting out his breaths until he bottomed out inside you, your own inhales growing ragged at the stretch and burn.
He wanted to mold you to him, to fuck you hard enough and long enough to leave an impression of every ridge and vein. Not make it two pumps before finishing.
But you had a knack for making his life difficult.
The arch of your back when he pulled out and plunged back in, the intoxicating scent of your perfume that was still driving him fucking insane, the gorgeous little gasps you let out with each thrust and smack of his hips against your ass.
He rutted deeper, his cock throbbing while your insides clung desperately onto him, watching the way your fists curled up in the comforter when you buried your face into the soft cotton to muffled your whines.
"M-mine," Suguru stuttered over the growl, hardly recognizing the husk in his own voice, swollen tip stuffed up against your womb while you squeezed around him.
Really, he was yours.
Would be your loyal dog or lap animal, whatever you wanted him to be.
Something primal inside him screamed that he had to fill you up, to mark you as his and stuff a baby or two or twelve inside you. Okay, not actually that last one.
The little sliver of him that was still operating on the most basic instincts of a small animal couldn't tell the difference though.
"Tell me to pull out," Suguru groaned, his fingers pressing harder into your hip, his reason getting fuzzier the longer you kept sucking him in. Sweat pricked at his forehead as his face fell forward to rest on your back, lips pressed to your skin like a lifeline.
"N-no."
Your voice was quiet, a soft breath that was hardly audible over the sound of skin on skin or the thump thump thumps of your headboard hitting the wall.
Barely hanging on by a strand, the tremble of your thighs underneath him and the shudders sent down your spine with each snap of his hips frayed the tether to his self-control until there was almost nothing left. Trailing kisses across your shoulder to feel the gasp he tore from your throat when you unraveled underneath him, holding you together while you fell to pieces crying out his name in broken whimpers.
He hadn't meant to.
But his teeth were sinking into the scruff of your neck, a soft love bite digging in to keep you still underneath him while warm spurts of cum coated your walls white. The thick veins pulsing until every last drop took, his cock still buried deep inside until he realized he was still half-clamped down, releasing you just to keep you pinned to the bed by his body weight instead.
"Suguru," You softly whined, turning your head so he could hear you better.
"Yeah, baby?" He murmured, pressing a few small kisses over the fresh hickies starting to blossom on your skin, lips pressing against the indents his teeth had left.
"I don't want this to be just sex," You confessed. Your voice was small, strained even, like you were embarrassed to say it.
"It's not," He promised. He readjusted so he could tilt your head, grabbing you chin as he caught your mouth with another kiss.
Part of him wished he could swallow you too - keep you with him where you'd always stay by his side. Another reminded him that was insane.
He could settle on being your boyfriend for now.
"I meant it earlier," He reiterated, kissing the corner of your mouth between words. There was no way in hell he was letting you slip through his fingers again. "You know I'm yours too."
You giggled, returning a peck to the tip of his nose as you tried to squirm free from under him, like you just remembered his cock was still inside you, cum leaking out around him and onto your blankets.
He didn't want to pull out though, didn't even want to separate when you were finally his.
Honestly, he was halfway-hoping you'd get pregnant, picturing you with a cute baby bump padding around barefoot in the sort of sundress that clung to your swollen stomach, physical proof you belonged to him just as much as he did to you.
You hadn't told him to pull out after all.
So surely, you wanted the same, right?
"You're all mine?" You hummed, shifting your hips around just to get a reaction out of him, his cock already oversensitive and starting to get hard again as his hands held you back down by your waist.
"You just want me to say it again," He chided with a chuckle of his own, sighing into your skin while you let out another weak huff that sounded more like a whine.
"Maybe," You admitted.
You looked back up at him, and he was a little too aware that he'd say it however many times you wanted as long as it was true.
"You know," You started talking again, biting down on your bottom lip as you rested your head on your folded forearms underneath them, yawning softly. "I was going to buy you a little bunny collar so everyone would know you were mine, but I guess you've already outgrown it, huh?"
He laughed again, his hand sliding up your spine to trace his own bite mark on the nape of your neck. Could you really not tell you already had him on a leash?
zanka hated you. he hated how much attention he paid to you. he hated how he couldn't become better than you. but feelings were complicated, and he was forced to sort all of those feelings out in one night, right in front of you.
tags: fluff, hurt/comfort (ur the one comforting zanka im ngl), angry accidental confession, zanka's shit at feelings, YEARNINGGGGG
wc: 2.02k
for this req! (requested from my old blog)
a/n: this was actually so fun to write like holy shit. i was gonna make it 1k words but oops! i dropped my projection on him and BOOM 2k words appeared infront of me.. also im so bad at endings and i got writers block right before i finished this fic so if the ending sucks ITS MY BAD IM SORRY </3 also i js wanted to post smthn so yall know im alive and im still working on my other reqs so stay tuned goobers!
zanka considered himself to be a hard worker. with how he was raised, he's learned to always look straight ahead towards a goal. no distractions, no diversions, just focusing on proving himself.
you however, were making this very difficult.
ever since you've become a cleaner and joined team akuta, zanka's been.. fixiated on you.
you were skilled at combat, no doubt. you fought like you were dancing, graceful and elegant while handling your jinki. not to mention you got a pretty face and pretty personality too. you made friends quickly within the cleaners, especially within team akuta.
you would constantly hang out with riyo or eishia, and would occasionally spar with rudo too. you got along well enough with enjin, even if you did find him a bit.. eccentric.
at first, zanka thought he hated you.
well, hate is a strong word. maybe extremely envious was the right term.
he didn't like how you so effortlessly caused eyes to fall on you by merely entering a room, even if he was one of those eyes. he didn't like how you always checked up on everyone after a mission to ensure everyone was okay, even if he purposely tried to get injured once before so you'd pay attention to him. he hated how kindly you offered him advice when you caught him training, even though he changed his schedule so that he would train during the times you would train too.
he hated how you were so.. effortless. he hated how natural you were. he hated how authentic of a person you are.
but he would be lying if he said he never realized that he didn't hate you.
sure, he was jealous on how quickly you could adapt to any situation, yet he would still pay attention on how you do it, just so he could train of course.
he was jealous on how beautifully you fought, making such violent acts look like a performance choreographed specifically to put you in the limelight, yet always found himself fighting harder to be able to reach your level.
he was so jealous on how easily you captured everyone's attention, including his. yet he never wavered his gaze from you. he never forgot all of your small habits that no one else seemed to notice. he never found himself not actively seeking you out just to keep him you company.
zanka was busy eating when he realized that he liked you. and safe to say, he almost choked.
because why would he like someone so.. above him? why would he think he had a chance with someone so special and unique when he was just some mediocre guy?
he pushed down those feelings. he recognized you as better than him, so his only goal was to get better than you.
but it wasn't like you were about to make it easy.
—
it's midnight, and you were currently alone in the training grounds, practicing with your jinki. you had come back from a solo mission today, and of course, you did it with ease (to no ones surprise). sleeping came hard since you couldn't shake off the feeling of needing to train though however. so here you are, training. you're too focused to notice zanka quietly watching you from afar, still in his loungewear and slippers.
he had gone out of his room for a walk to clear his mind. he knew you went out today, yet hadn't seen you when you returned, which bothered him for some reason. he noticed some movement in the training area, so he wandered off to see what or who it was.
when he saw you, he felt a frown grow on his face. seriously? you're already super amazing and naturally talented, so why are you here? its not like anyone else (but him) was here to see you, so what was the point?
maybe you knew about how much he loved loathed you, and was trying to prevent him from keeping up. yes, that must be it. and he was surely watching your every move with awe in order to come up with better moves in the future.
despite the quiet, you felt a presence behind you. you let your jinki transform back to its original state before turning around to see zanka. out of breath, you walk over towards him with a smile.
he's definitely not panicking inside. you? sweaty and tired with your oh so addicting scent that he's grown familiar with from fighting by your side surrounding you? while you currently walk over towards him? its a miracle he was able to stand up, let alone keep a straight face.
"hey zanka! what are you doing here? its so late," you ask, pulling up the hem of your shirt to wipe the sweat off your face. zanka definitely did NOT look down to see your stomach. nope.
he (somehow) kept a neutral expression as he looked down at you, crossing his arms.
"could ask ya the same thing. whatcha doin' fighting with the wind at midnight?"
you laugh, which shouldn't sound as beautiful to zanka as it does.
"dunno. just felt an urge, you know?"
"no actually, i don't know."
you hum. "hmm, whatever. wanna spar?" you asked, already pulling out your jinki.
you asked it so casually. like he was someone worthy enough to have a chance at beating you.
while yes, he did bring his assistaff —because why would he go anywhere without it—he still hesitated. he was conflicted with himself.
on one hand, he would probably never hear the end of it if he lost. he could practically hear enjin's voice already teasing him on how easily he got tossed around by you.
on the other hand, if he beat you, it would feel glorious, like a goal achieved by no one ever before him. yet somehow, he still feels uneasy at the possibility of you getting beat and losing to him. would you be sad? would you be happy for him? would you be disappointed at yourself and train harder, which would make the already massive power gap between you two larger than it was?
wait, why did he care if you would be sad or not?
he scoffs, and power ups his staff, cracking his neck in preparation.
"don't be surprsed when i beat 'cha."
"let's not make assumptions now, zanka."
—
you end up pinning him to the ground after 10 minutes.
you're both damp and sweaty, faces dirtied from dust and hair in a tangled mess. your left arm is on his chest holding him down while you basically sit on his torso with both legs on the sides of his body, your jinkies to the side, forgotten. you have one of his arms pinned up and while his other hand is free, he's too tired to fight back at this point.
your face is close to his, practically sharing the same breath as you both pant from exhaustion. you share eye contact, not breaking it for a good while. then he hears you laugh.
you sit up, still on him, and god you shouldn't look as good as you do. the moonlight reflects your features too well, you look like a painting that just came to life.
"what's that about beating me now, zanka?" you tease.
he doesn't know why, but that sets him off.
of course he couldn't beat you. why would he? natural talent beats hard work, he couldn't compete with that even if he pushed his body to breakage. he doesn't know why he's so angry. so angry at you, so angry at himself.
he pushes you off him, not enough to hurt, but enough to mean something.
you were caught off guard. sure you beat his ass, but you thought it was all in good faith. just a friendly sparring. the scowl he has on his face says otherwise.
"the fuck zanka?!" you exclaim, "what the hell is your problem?!"
he looks back at you, so obviously irritated. because he DIDN'T know what was wrong with him. he didn't know why he felt a pang in his heart when looking at your expression, hurt and angry at his actions.
"you already won, no reason to stay on me."
"you couldn't tell me to get off?? so you just HAD to shove me?!"
"yea actually! shouldn't be a problem since ya've been shoving me around for ten minutes! what's one push for ya?!"
you truly can't comprehend what he was saying right now. you thought you were having a good time, now he's yelling at you?
"what the fuck did i do to you?!" you yell.
"everything! everything you do fuckin' pisses me off!" he yells back.
now you were just confused. what did you even do to him??
you're both still on the ground, yet he's already kneeling to look over you, not stopping his yelling fest.
"fuck! you're so annoying ya know?! you're so perfect at everything ya do, even when you're not doing something!"
"it's so annoying watching ya be so perfect!! god i can't even believe i like ya sometimes! because fuck! you're obviously way better than me at everything, how would i even match up to ya?!"
you grab at his flailing arms.
pause.
did he just say that he likes you?
he's panting at the end of his rant, still unaware of his confession. you look up at him with wide eyes, trying to process all of the information he just spouted out while still trying to get him to calm down.
"..what did you say?" you ask.
ah shit.
this wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.
he doesn't pull away, but he physically deflates in your grip. he looks down at his lap, already pondering on what you would say. you would probably laugh at him, maybe even call him stupid to think he could ever match up to you.
and fuck him because how are you still so natural at surprising him with what you do?
you adjust your grip to hold his hands and they're shaking. you rub your thumbs on his hands in an attempt to soothe him.
"is that how you think of me zanka? that i'm better than you?"
he doesn't reply.
you continue speaking.
"zanka, you don't need to try and one up me to prove yourself."
at that, he looks up at you. you with your stupidly perfect face with that stupidly perfect smile.
what do you mean he doesn't have to be better than you? what do you mean he doesn't need to match your skill level in order to be good enough?
you pull him into a hug, and he's trembling. you rub your hands along his back to soothe him.
"..i thought i hated ya."
you snort. "yea, me too."
he pulls back to look at you. "you're annoying, ya know. why'd ya always have to be so.. so good? ya know? it pissed me off for a while."
you smile at him, and fuck if he doesn't wanna see that look on you everyday. "maybe i'm just myself. i don't see myself as the best, i only see myself as it is."
it's here that zanka realizes that his perception of you is that of someone who loves you. someone who can see you as the best version of yourself, and get envious at that.
he suddenly leans forward against you and sighs. you squeak in surprise and hold him up by his shoulders while his head rests on your shoulders.
"..ya don't hate me right?"
"hmm.." you pretend to think, and he brings up his hands on your waist while starting to tickle you.
"zanka-! okay okay! i don't hate you!" you exclaim between giggles as he finally ceases.
he bring you closer into a hug and sighs once more.
yes, zanka was an absolute idiot at feelings, but atleast he doesn't have to compete with you anymore. because he knew he'd always let you win. not like he had a chance at beating you anyway.
a/n: we highkey laughed our butts off while making up the scenarios. hopefully y'all laugh at them too.
SATORU GOJO
Growing up, you didn't have much. Your parents were barely making ends meet, both working two jobs to sustain bills and your education. You started working as soon as you could to help fund your own expenses, giving them less to worry and pay for. They never asked you to, they'd tell you to just focus on your studies but you couldn't. Not while they suffered and worked harder than most to put food in your lunch box and clean clothes in your closet. You were hard working and smart, never taking handouts and always earning what was yours. All the while studying hard during your lunch breaks at work and staying up countless nights to cram for exams. That is what Gojo always admired.
From the first time he met you at that small coffee shop you waitressed at, your nose in a book as you wipe down tables and fixed chairs, till your very first date that you insisted on splitting the bill. He played along of course, but the bill had been taken care of before you ever saw the price. He loved your stubborn and hard working nature, loved how upset you got and tried to pry the bill amount out of him, but most of all he loved how you didn't care about his generational wealth. Despite being the richest sorcerer alive since birth, you still tried arguing over a measly 70 dollar date.
Once you started dating, it took a long time to get accustomed to being taken care of by him. He’d constantly show up with your favorite comfort meals after your shift, sitting in his sports car with his hand massaging your thigh as you ate and told him about rude customers. Snacks during your late night study sessions in your room where he’d brush your hair and ask you questions on the material, peeking over your shoulder and occasionally kissing your ear to purposely distract you as you recited the contents of your workbook.
He’d also buy you clothes without you needing to tell him your size, “I thought you’d look good in this babe.” He’d say with a proud smirk before shoving it into your hands and ushering you to your bathroom to try it on. To say Gojo was spoiling you rotten was an understatement, on date nights he’d insist on buying you a completely new outfit down to designer sunglasses and heels. Necklaces worth your paycheck and anything you even glanced at. “What’s so wrong with spoiling my honey? You work hard, let me care for you.” He’d say with a quick kiss to your cheek before grabbing all the bags from your hands and ushering you to his parked sports car.
For months you’d feel guilty at how much he was spending on you, often scolding him on how he never even glanced at the bill before tapping his black metal card. He'd listen to you scold him with a small amused smirk, twirling your hair in his fingers and occasionally humming his acknowledgment of your words. You thought he'd grow out of the habit, but boy were you wrong.
Now, years later the sound of utensils clinking against kaolin porcelain china plates fills the lavish dining room in the Gojo Estate. You, your husband Satoru, and your two beautiful teenage kids sit at the table enjoying a 3 course dinner, all hand made by your private chefs. You sit next to your husband whose hand is on your thigh, stroking your soft skin with his thumb lazily as he eats with his free hand. Despite the grand table, you and your husband all sit at the head together. Your daughter to your left and your son to your husband's right.
You ask your kids how school went between sips of your wine, your husband graciously refills your glass only to steal sips from the spot your maroon lipstick stains the rim, glancing sideways at you with a playful gleam in his eyes and a smirk. Your daughter goes on to tell a story of how she tried out for the ballet competitive dancing club and got in. Your son after going on to explain a similar story with the baseball club.
“The club is exclusively for travel competitions. Apparently last year, the club traveled all around Europe for two weeks doing competitions against the best schools world wide.” Your daughter says excitedly between bites of her Alaska salmon.
“Yeah, same for the baseball club. Some third years were telling the newbies that last year the club traveled around America playing against some prestigious private schools.” Your son says in a more relaxed tone before putting a piece of lamb in his mouth.
You smile warmly, chewing and swallowing the piece of food you had in your mouth before speaking. “That's amazing sweethearts.” you say proudly, setting down your fork.
Your husband sets down your wine glass he was drinking from with a proud smile. “Atta kids. I knew my DNA would serve you right.” He chuckles and winks to his kids.
You chuckle at your husband and the kids do too. Taking his bigger hand in your smaller one you look between the two, “So, when do you guys start? Do we need to go out tomorrow and get you the proper supplies?” You’re already mentally planning the mall day, which stores to hit up for your daughter's necessities and which for your son.
Your husband smiles big at your eagerness, squeezing your hand gently in his and stroking your knuckles with his thumb before speaking. “You kids tell us what you need, can't have you guys looking like rookies.”
Your daughter's expression turns sheepish, almost worried. “Yeah, but the club is really expensive.” she says softly, setting down her fork before your son follows after.
“Yeah, the baseball club is too.” he says before wiping his mouth with a napkin and taking a sip of his water.
“Are you sure we can afford it?” Your daughter asks, genuinely worried that her and her brother are asking for too much.
The word afford hangs in the air like a heavy blanket, you can practically feel Gojo’s blood heart rate start to spike. “Oh boy.” You mutter, putting your elbow on the table and your free hand over your forehead, shaking your head, looking down at the table. Your husband's smile slowly fades, waiting for the part where his son starts laughing and saying 'You should've seen your faces!' The part doesn’t come. Your kids look between you two, your daughter's eyebrows furrowing, and your son leaning forward in his chair, looking equally confused.
After a couple of tense seconds of silence, “We’re buying the teams.” Your husband says flatly, leaving no room for debate. You sigh, “Honey…”
Your kids' eyes widen in shock. “What? Dad-” Your daughter starts but is quickly interrupted by Gojo. “No no no, what is it with the two most important women in my life thinking we’re broke? I mean seriously!” he says, offended.
“Honey, that was like 16 years ago.” You defend yourself in vain. Gojo lets go of your hand to point an accusing finger at you. “Oh no no no, just last week I told you to take the Master card, and you didn't! Would it kill you to spend my money?” he says with a dramatic huff.
You click your tongue and smack his hand that points at you, “Would you stop it? We don't need to buy anything-”
“Two jets. One for baseball and the other for ballet. Custom wrap for the team names and custom jerseys. We’ll rent out the mall tomorrow to get them the necessities without hassle. You get whatever you want and you're actually buying it this time. In every color they have.” He states confidently, already pulling out his phone to make all the calls necessary to make this happen.
Your kids are wide eyed, looking between each other and you two with shocked expressions. “Wait Dad!-" Your daughter is quickly cut off by your husband getting up from his seat at the table. Grabbing your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before kissing you deeply on the lips with a teasing hum.
He tastes like the fruity wine he's been stealing from your glass and something specifically Gojo. You smile against his lips, forgetting about the semi-argument from seconds ago. Even with your eyes closed you know his free hand is already holding his phone against his ear waiting for the ringing on the other end to pick up.
“Get a room.” Your son grumbles and pushes away his dinner. Gojo smirks against your lips and chuckles lightly before pulling away when the phone answers. He winks at you before kissing both kids on the head and walking away, talking in that energetic playful tone he always has.
You lick your lips, savoring his taste on you before looking back to your kids with a smile. “You guys get some rest, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
TOJI FUSHIGURO
You and Toji had only been dating for a few months, but somehow it already felt like you’d known him forever. He didn’t have much. Everyone knew that. Most days he was bouncing between odd jobs, helping someone move furniture, fixing things around town, taking whatever work he could find. Other days he’d spend hours in a bar somewhere, betting on races and somehow convincing himself he’d finally hit it big this time. His bank account was usually empty. His apartment was barely furnished. His car made sounds that definitely shouldn’t have been coming from a functioning vehicle. But none of that mattered to you. Because despite having so little, he somehow gave you more than anyone else ever had.
When his bets actually paid off, he’d show up at your door with flowers, acting like it wasn’t a big deal even though you knew he’d spent half his winnings on them. When you complained about craving ice cream at midnight, he’d groan dramatically, throw on a hoodie, and disappear into the night only to come back twenty minutes later with your favorite flavor. On anniversaries he’d save up for weeks just to take you somewhere nice, pretending he hadn’t planned the entire thing down to the smallest detail. He wasn’t perfect. He was stubborn, annoying, sometimes reckless. But he loved you in a way that felt real. And that was enough.
At first, your friends were happy for you. They told you how much brighter you seemed lately, how often you smiled, how you talked about him with a look they’d never seen on your face before. Everyone seemed supportive. Everyone except her, your best friend. The first comment was easy to ignore. “You could do better.” You laughed it off. The second comment was harder. “He seems like a lot of work.” Then came the constant questions. “What does he even do?” “Does he have a plan?” “How is he supposed to take care of you?” You defended him every single time. Because she didn’t know him. She didn’t know about the way he’d remember every tiny detail you mentioned. She didn’t know the sacrifices he made quietly without ever talking about them. But no matter what you said, she never seemed convinced.
As the months passed, her behavior became harder to ignore. Whenever your friends asked about Toji, she’d suddenly lose interest in the conversation. You’d be showing pictures from a date, and she’d roll her eyes. Someone would mention how happy you looked together, and she’d let out a dramatic sigh. Sometimes you’d catch her staring at her phone while everyone else was listening to your story. Other times she’d make faces she thought nobody noticed. But you noticed, every single one. The worst part wasn’t even the comments. It was how obvious her bitterness became. Your other friends were excited for you, your family liked him, even people who barely knew him could see how much he cared about you. Yet somehow your supposed best friend was the only person who seemed incapable of being happy for you.
You confronted her more than once. “Why can’t you just support me?” And every time she’d give some excuse. “I’m just looking out for you.” “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” “I’m being realistic.” But the more she spoke, the less believable it sounded. Because it wasn't a concern. Concern comes from love. This felt different, it felt personal.
One Thursday night, everything finally clicked. You were sitting in her living room, curled up on the couch, talking excitedly about a date Toji had planned for the weekend. You were smiling without realizing it. Talking about how secretive he’d been all week, how he’d been saving money for something special, how excited you were to spend time with him. The entire time she just stared at you. Her expression looked almost irritated, like your happiness was physically bothering her. When you finished talking, silence filled the room.
Then she scoffed harshly, “Can he even afford to buy you flowers?” Her lips twisted into a smirk. The room went quiet. For a second you just stared at her. Not because the comment hurt. But because suddenly everything made sense. Every eye roll, every rude remark, every passive-aggressive comment, every time she tried to convince you to leave him, every moment she’d dismissed your happiness. It all clicked together. And for the first time, you realized she wasn’t worried about you. She never had been.
Whether it was jealousy, bitterness, or something else entirely, she simply couldn’t stand seeing you happy with someone she didn’t approve of. The realization hurt more than the comment itself. Because this was someone you’d trusted for years, someone you considered family. And instead of supporting you, she’d spent months trying to tear down the healthiest relationship you’d ever had.
You stood up. She looked confused. “What?” You shook your head. “You know what? I think we’re done.” Her expression immediately changed. “What are you talking about?” But there was nothing left to explain. A real friend doesn’t compete with your happiness, a real friend doesn’t constantly belittle the person you love, and a real friend certainly doesn’t make you feel guilty for being happy. You left her house that night and never looked back. Later, when you told Toji what happened, he just wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. “No more ice cream for her then.” You laughed so hard you nearly cried. And in that moment, losing a fake friend felt a lot less painful than keeping one.
Now, years later you’re curled up on the couch next to your husband Toji tucked under his arm as he sips his favorite beer with his free hand watching some boxing match on the TV. His fingertips draw unconscious patterns on your arm as you read a book and draw lazy patterns on his thigh with your unoccupied hand when the front door opens.
“I’m home.” The familiar aloof voice of your son Megumi carries throughout the house. You lean off of Toji’s shoulder, earning yourself a displeased groan from the man and smiling at your son with your usual warm smile.
“Hey, how was school?” You ask, setting down your book on the couch and settling back into your husband's side. Toji groans again and settles you better into his side, his arm falling from your shoulders to around your waist and hand now resting on your thigh. He sips his beer and side eyes his son as acknowledgement.
“It was fine.” Megumi says flatly from the front door where he’s slipping off his shoes and jacket. You watch him set down his house keys next before speaking again, “How's Yuji and Nobara?” You ask as Megumi walks over towards the kitchen and grabs a water bottle.
“Good. They want to go out tonight to some arcade.” He says simply before taking a long sip. You smile excitedly, smacking Toji’s thigh so he could acknowledge that your usually introverted son wants to go out. He side eyes you, silently saying, 'What was that for?' with his eyes before groaning and turning off the TV.
“About time you get a life.” Toji mutters to his son before sipping his beer, you click your tongue and smack his thigh harder. He chuckles and smirks around the beer bottle pressed to his scarred lips.
Megumi pays no mind to his father's words, walking over to the couch and sitting down on your left with his water bottle in his hands. With a final glare at Toji, you look at your son, smiling and excited for him. “Oh yeah? Sounds like a good time.”
“Would be.” He says simply as he stares off to the screen of the TV. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You're not going?” You ask, slightly disappointed. Toji snorts, “What a shocker.” Your husband says sarcastically.
You roll your eyes and turn to better face your son, “Why aren't you going, Megs? Does it not sound fun?” Megumi shrugs, “The arcade is new. It's expensive, so I figured we couldn't afford it.”
When the word ‘afford’ leaves his mouth, your face drops. Toji spits out the beer that was in his mouth and bursts out laughing. Megumi’s usual stoic expression falters, concern growing on every line of his face. Your eye twitches as you stare at your son and the word replays in your head like a drum, Toji coughing and laughing up a storm while setting down his beer on the coffee table in front of you all and smacking his chest with his now free hand, trying to draw in breath. “Oh, here we go.” He gasps out between fits of laughter.
“Wha-“ Megumi tries to ask but is quickly interrupted by you, “Oh Megumi…my sweet boy…WE can afford it.” You say as if that word leaves a bad taste in your tongue. Sitting up you dig into Toji’s pocket as you continue speaking, “Here’s what you’re gonna do.” Toji sighs deeply and adjusts himself so you can better reach into his pocket. Opening the wallet you take out a fat band of cash, undoing the rubber band around it. “You will buy tickets for you AND your friends to this arcade,” you say while placing a stack on your son’s hand, his eyes widening from the amount of money that alone already is. “THEN you will buy as much food and play as many games as you all desire.” Emphasizing your words with another stack, Toji next to you stroking your thigh under his big hand to offer some form of support. “And you’re not allowed to take a single step into this home unless this entire band is spent.” You place the last part of the money on his hand. Megumi is speechless at this point, he looks up at his father for help but Toji just gives him a slight shrug as if telling him, ‘just go with it, kid.’
Megumi just blinks between the both of you in confusion then just sighs. “Uh…okay…thanks then..i guess.” He stands up slowly while organizing the stack in his hands better while staring at you. “You’re telling me what this is about when I'm back.” He says in a slightly reprimanding tone, eyes sharp as if they’re trying to figure out where everything went wrong while backing up towards the stairs to his room.
You and Toji settled back into the couch together, his arm over your shoulder this time to have you pulled as close as possible to his side while Megumi was getting ready. Once he was done and said his goodbyes to both of you, the front door shut, leaving just the faint scent of his cologne. A few moments pass, and there you go muttering to yourself, ‘Pfft…afford..tch..we can afford it…’ shaking your head slightly. Toji presses his scared slips together slightly, an amused smirk on his face, before tilting his gaze to you, holding back a chuckle. “We can beat the ashes of the horse before bed, but not right now, the match is getting good, yeah?” He hums while kissing the underside of your ear and caressing your collarbone.
KENTO NANAMI
You and Nanami have been dating for a while now. Friday morning, you woke up early and had an amazing slow morning together. Your apartment smells like coffee, his cologne, and fresh laundry that's still laid out on your couch from last night. Before he was out the door to his job, he left you with a lingering kiss on the lips that tasted like his bitter black coffee and something uniquely him. “I’ll be home at 8:33 tonight, dear. Assuming the train is actually on time tonight. Call me if you need me, I'll answer.” He says to you as he adjusts his glasses one final time and smiles slightly before disappearing out the door.
Hours later, you're sitting at home getting some work done on your computer when a message from him lights up your phone. You set down your drink onto the coffee table in front of you before opening his message and reading it, a growing frown pulling on your lips. “Dear, I'm clocking in overtime tonight. Gojo needs these reports on his desk by morning. I love you, don't wait up.” After reading his message, you respond, mid-sentence, having a light bulb moment. Knowing that when he clocks in over time, he usually goes straight home. You made up your mind to go to his apartment tonight and surprise him.
After wrapping up all your work, you made your way to his apartment at 6pm. Your boyfriend has a routine of cleaning his house every Saturday, but the way his superiors have been overworking him, you decided to do that for him, deep cleaning his bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, and living room. Now it’s 7:35 pm, and you’re starting to prep ingredients for your signature sandwich, which he loves, when you realize he has run out of bread. You quickly make a run to his favorite bakery that’s across the street from his place, hoping it doesn’t close yet. Running into the bakery 15 minutes before closing, looking like a semi-disaster after all you did at his place, with an apologetic, relieved smile on your face.
“Oh, good, you're still open.” You say, out of breath, walking up to the counter. You’re greeted with an annoyed teenager who's popping her gum loudly and rolling her eyes after checking the time.
“Yup.” She says exaggerated and sarcastically, clearly not in any mood for your presence. You smile apologetically again, heading straight to grab two loaves of baguettes and pastries from the glass display case. After 4 minutes of walking around and grabbing the necessities, you walk up to the counter, emptying the contents of stuff from your hands and onto the surface. The snarky teenager rolls her eyes before looking you up and down slowly. “This it?” She says, annoyed, you nod and say yes. She scoffs, looking you up and down more slowly this time. “You can afford all this?” Your face drops at her comment as she rings you up. Taking your card from your wallet and the payment goes through without a hitch, the girl scoffs. You take the bag full of food and walk out of the bakery, doing double takes at the girl as if not believing the interaction you just had.
Nanami is walking down the hallway to his apartment with a defeated spirit. Standing in front of his place, he sends you a quick text while undoing his tie. Then, as he opens the door, the scent of cleanliness and your perfume engulf him. For a moment, he was confused. Why did his place smell clean? And of you? Until he walked into the kitchen and saw his beautiful girlfriend waiting for him on the bar stool with fresh sandwiches and his favorite pastries on the counter. “Ken baby, hey! You hungry?” You say brightly, already up from your seat and walking over to him for a hug around the neck. He hugs you by the waist, looking around astonished at his very clean apartment, his favorite sandwich on the counter with his usual weekend pastries, and a lovely girlfriend who feels like home in his arms. “Hon, you didn't have to.” He mumbles gratefully into your shoulder, hugging you tighter and pulling you flush against his toned body. You spent an amazing night together, sharing stories of your day between bites of your sandwiches and smiles after sips of wine. Despite the night you were having, the words from that snarky teenager stayed in your subconscious.
Now, years later, you and Nanami are married with a beautiful teenage daughter who's the spitting image of you two. You were cleaning up around the kitchen after you and your husband had lunch. He was off from work today, so you spent your time deep cleaning the house and getting ready for the weekend. Your daughter appears in the doorframe moments later, “Mom! Dad! I’m home!” Her voice carries from the front door to the kitchen, and a smile appears on your face almost instantly.
Your usually stoic husband relaxes a bit, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly. “In here!” you call out, your husband setting down his cleaning supplies to help his daughter with her school bags before kissing the top of her head. “How was your day, honey?” he asks in his usual tone, but it carries a hint of warmth, the tone reserved for just you and your baby girl. “It was good!” She says while giving her dad a quick kiss on the cheek and doing the same to you. “Actually, there’s a dilemma I’m having that I want you guys to hear out.” She continues in a slightly more serious tone as she grabs a barstool to sit on. You and Nanami give each other a quick glance and put down everything to pay attention. “Hit us.” You respond, Nanami giving his daughter a quick nod signaling her to continue. “Alright so it was club rush today and the music club really caught my eye so I applied to it.” She finally spoke, almost testing how the words would land. “That’s great, sweetheart! I’m glad something interested you.” You replied, then there’s a pause, “What’s the dilemma?” asks Nanami in a tone that he’s ready to fix any of his daughter’s problems right away. “The dilemma is that we have to have our own piano to practice at home, and the ones they were recommending were a pretty penny or two, so…I was wondering if we could afford it?”
Your head snaps towards your husband immediately, your finger pointing to your daughter, half accusingly, half in defense. “You see!? The horse got up!” Nanami mumbles to himself while taking off his glasses, “Oh boy..” pinching the bridge of his nose, he nods slowly, “Yes, dear, it did get up.” Your daughter is just looking between the two of you, very confused, “So, like, am I missing something here?” She asks, clear that something she said had triggered you.
“Yes. You’re missing that piano.” Your head snaps again towards your daughter, and you walk towards her, leaning over the counter. “On that note, the piano is gonna be mahogany wood. A violin in the same wood, matching set.” In the background, Nanami is approaching you from behind, careful not to disrupt you. “In fact, the office is now becoming your practice studio.” He stands by your side while you begin your rambling, placing a hand on your waist and the other giving grounding squeezes to your shoulder. “Your dad is strong, he can help me carry out all the furniture, right, Ken?” You ask quickly before continuing, your daughter is completely distraught by your plans, and before she interrupts. “Yes, my love, of course.” Nanami replies in a calm voice, the teenage girl gives him a bewildered look as if asking, ‘You’re actually going along with this?!’
He replies with a knowing nod, ‘I'll explain later,’ it said. Your daughter just sighs as your rambling just becomes white noise.
“Of course, we can afford this new hobby, sweetheart. Actually, I’m even getting you a tutor. That's a great idea, right?” Nanami nods, letting out a deep exhale while pressing a kiss on your temple. “Yes, love.”
HIROMI HIGURUMA
At the beginning of your relationship with Higuruma, you both already knew you guys were forever. So much so that during one of his celebratory dinners with his colleagues over a grueling case, he wanted to announce his biggest achievement of all, being able to land the fiancée title. That’s right, just a few months into dating, he had already decided to get the gears going just a tad bit faster. You were super excited but also extremely nervous to meet his colleagues, especially to announce the upgrade of your relationship status. So you decided to doll yourself up as best as you possibly could, nails done the day before, your hair styled to perfection, and now you are doing your makeup with laser focus. Having the black dress Higuruma absolutely adores waiting for you, splayed carefully on the side of your bed to make sure the fabric doesn’t get stained or wrinkled. Black-red bottom heels were neatly placed in front of the dress on the floor, jewelry placed above the dress, and your purse that’s going to carry your phone, lip combo, and, most importantly, your engagement ring already placed next to the dress.
Everything is going smoothly, your getting-ready playlist is on the TV as you take your sweet time with every step, just really enjoying the process of getting dolled up. Then a notification with a specific ringtone interrupts. “Hey doll, we’re running a bit late to wrap things up, but you can start heading out soon. My secretary is on the way to the reservation, so you can meet her there. I love you, see you soon.” Oh, how giddy every text from him still makes you. Taking his message as your cue, you do your last touches on the makeup before getting the dress, shoes, and bag all on you. Making sure you have everything with you— “Oh shit, I forgot my wallet!” You say as you are walking towards the front door while checking your bag. When you’re about to go back to get it, you remember you have a lawyer finacée who will personally sue you if you pay for something yourself.
20 minutes later, you were walking into the designated restaurant with a nervous smile, hand clutching your purse as you looked around for Higuruma’s secretary. After a total of 3 seconds, you spot her sitting down on one of the couches in the waiting area. Her bleach blonde hair and red lipstick that looked way too bright for the occasion made her stand out like a sore thumb. She was scrolling through her phone with a seemingly annoyed expression, maybe it’s been a stressful few hours for her. Before making your way over to her, you take a deep breath through your nose, mustering up all the sociability in your bones and scanning her for a way to start this conversation.
You clear your throat before speaking, “Hi! You’re Higuruma’s secretary, right?” You say as calmly as you can with a polite smile on your painted lips. She looks up from her phone at you, “Uh, yeah. Who are you?” She says, her face scrunched in, already seeming disapproving. “Perfect! It’s great to finally meet you! I’m—“ your introduction gets cut short from her phone ringing. Without sparing you another glance, she immediately turns her head away from you and answers it. You retract the handshake you were expecting and wait for her phone call to end, it almost seemed like she was extending it on purpose..? Once it ended, she didn’t turn her attention back to you, she just opened up her social media instead. Well, alright…maybe you should try another tactic. “Oh, girl, I love that necklace you have on. Where’s it from?” You ask with a cheerful tone before taking the seat next to her. She sighs exasperatedly and turns her scrutinizing gaze to you slowly, looking you up and down before responding, “I’d tell you, but I don’t think you can afford it.”
Her tone was sharp, almost chuckling to herself at the end. Her comment left you momentarily speechless. Did this stranger actually just say that to you?
“What did you just say?” A deep, authoritative voice from behind you spoke up, a very familiar one. Both of you turn to face Higuruma, whose usually stoic expression seemed extremely displeased with what he’d just heard directed to his fiancée. “O-oh, nothing, it was just a joke, right girl?” She laughs nervously while giving you a slight nudge with her elbow. You snap out of your stunned daze and scoff, your face a mix of disbelief and disgust, before rubbing your arm where hers had touched you. “Yeah, a joke.” You say back to her, rolling your eyes and standing from your spot next to her to walk over to your fiancé. Higuruma notices your attitude towards her and immediately scoffs, “Lying to a lawyer? Not the brightest idea you’ve had.” He says to his secretary before his hand finds your waist, firmly pulling you closer to his side with a gentle protectiveness only you get to see.
The secretary is struggling to find an excuse while the physical proximity between you two is making her glitch. “Let me make this clear for you. You do not speak to my fiancée like that. Do you understand?” He says while reaching into his pocket with his free hand. Her eyes widen comically large, her words stuttering in disbelief. “Y-you’re w-what?!” His colleagues gasp, clearly not expecting this dinner to become such a spectacle. “My fiancée.” He repeats in his usual calm tone as he slips your engagement ring onto your finger gently before holding up your hand to press a soft kiss to your knuckles, then showing everyone around you two the stone on your ring finger like a key piece of evidence in a court case. “Are we all clear on how to speak to my fiancé?”
Now, years later, you guys are happily married with a beautiful daughter that just arrived home from an after-school hangout. “I’m home!” She calls out, and the sounds of her locking the front door shut while pushing away the plastic curtain that separates the half-remodeled kitchen and dining area are heard from the living room, where you and your husband were. “Here, sweetheart!” You call out to her as you keep typing on your laptop, shifting on the couch cushions with Higuruma to your right. She rushes over to the room and greets both of you with a hug, “What are you guys up to, huh?” she asks curiously while taking out a snack from the pantry before stopping to stand on the opposite side of the counter in front of both of you. “Just finished up some work. You arrived just in time.” Higuruma speaks, a relieved grin on his face as he closes his case folders and sets them aside. You shut your laptop as well. “Whew, work has us beat. But how have you been, hun? Tell us everything.” You add while leaning your cheek on your hand, ready to hear all about her day. “My day has been whatever, nothing noteworthy. The only thing is, my friends have been pestering me about the senior trip coming up.” She sighs, rolling her eyes and shaking her head slightly as she continues, “It's this end-of-the-year trip to Okinawa for a week. The whole senior class is invited, but not everyone's going because it's super expensive.”
You look at Higuruma at the same time he looks at you, both of you with confused expressions on your faces before turning back to your daughter. “What’s the problem?” He asks before you could.
Your daughter sighs, “I mean, I know we’re remodeling the house right now, and that's not cheap, so I just figured we couldn't afford that right now.”
As soon as those words leave your daughter's lips, you take a sharp inhale, eyes wide as if you’ve just been personally insulted. Higuruma groans as he brings both of his hands to his face, leaning back against the couch cushion, looking up as if he’s praying that he completely misheard that sentence. Your daughter is glancing between the two of you, clearly noticing the mood change, “What’s...wrong?” she asks cautiously. Your brows raise while crossing your arms over your chest, “Sweetheart, you are going on that trip. In fact, you will be the best dressed there.” You scoff, your husband by your side, still in the same position, rolling his eyes towards you. “Doll…” he speaks with a deep exhale, with the utmost amount of patience in his tone. “Yes. Exactly, you’re gonna look like a doll,” you say while gesturing to him, taking his nickname towards you completely out of context already. “Tomorrow you’re skipping school, and we’re going to the mall. You’re gonna buy four different outfits per day of your trip.” Higuruma just sits there, blinking while staring at you, then he looks towards his daughter with the same disbelief in his expression, but then that twinkle of amusement blooms quietly in his eyes. His exhale attempts to hide his chuckle while he shakes his head, taking out his wallet from his right pocket. His other arm drapes on the back of the couch, “So the black Amex or the gold Amex, Barbie?” Your head turns to him sharply, his comedic cooperation seeming like he’s trying to add more fuel to your ever-growing fire.
“Okay, stop. Seriously, what is going on?” Your daughter interrupts your next sentence before it starts. Your husband chuckles, his hand starting to draw lazy taunting patterns on your arm, “Well, if you must know, your mother is reliving a traumatic experience from 18 years ago. Nothing to concern yourself with.” You scoff, trying to swat his hand from your arm, “I’m not–” “No, no doll, we understand that this is your way of coping. Is revenge sweet, 18 years later?” He says with his usual tone, carrying hints of amusement. You stare at him for a solid five seconds, your lips slightly parted, too irritated to even have a comeback, eyes glaring a hole through his face. “Hiromi.” You scold not only with your expression but with your tone that implies the ice he’s dancing on is getting thinner. Although his usual deadpan expression remains, his eyes still glitter with taunting ideas, “We’re really showing her now, huh? Is it everything you’ve dreamed of?” Your brows furrow from his endless teasing, you reach for his other hand that holds the wallet, and snatch it from him with a huff. “Tch…afford..” you bicker grudgingly as you pick out the card you want for yourself. “Do you feel accomplished, honey?” he draws his words out oh so sweetly with a classy touch of mockery. He’s leaning closer to you, brows furrowed in a facade of pity. You place the credit card of your choice down on the table rather harshly, keeping the scowl on your face in check to not fall deeper into his bait.
“Higuruma.”
“Yes dear?”
“Enough.”
“Enough of what, my love? Use your words.”
Your daughter watched this childish bickering that happens between the two of you way too often. She mimics the same expression of her father’s, face palmed, looking up as if trying to escape her reality. Soon enough, she remembered her free will and sighed, leaving the card on the table and walking to her room down the hall to save herself the trouble of trying to understand what this was about.
CHOSO KAMO
The first time you encountered Choso Kamo, you knew you'd be head over heels for him and fast. Sure, his looks were the first eye catcher, obviously, but there was just something about the way he carried himself. How would you even start talking to him without blushing? Would he find it weird if you tried initiating conversation? This is all that was going through your head during the group hangout with your friend Yuji, who introduced you to him only an hour ago.
This hangout took you from the movies, to the arcade, to a ramen shop, and finally to a few stores around the mall. In the specific store you were at, you observed all your friends disperse into groups of two, and by some miracle, you ended up paired with Choso, #dreamcometrue.
You glance at him from time to time, taking note of his hairstyle, the band t-shirt with baggy jeans combo, worn-out sneakers, and the faint smell of his warm sandalwood cologne. His expression wasn’t deadpan or uninterested, just kinda..neutral, in a way that only he could pull off without looking bored. You can tell he was quietly observing the group as they walked ahead, looking around as if assessing potential threats when someone got too close to his younger brother. You found it sweet how intensely he worried for his brother when he stubbed his toe against the ice cream shop's door. Choso physically flinched like he felt it himself.
Even now, with Yuji’s friend yapping his ear off about some concert outfit she wants to buy, all he does is hum his acknowledgement of her words every now and then with his eyes forward to the group and his hands casually shoved in his pockets. You try to talk to the girl, you do, but every time you ask about the concert she's going to, she gives you an uninterested look and a half-ass response. It was clear that the only attention she wanted was from Choso. At some point, you just gave up on trying to socialize with her and started doing your own thing, browsing through the accessories and different clothing items the store had to offer. However, no matter how long you kept walking, her irritating voice followed you around. You glanced behind you, and Choso followed behind you like a line leader. You assumed he followed mindlessly, not like he was actually enjoying your company, so you shrugged it off and kept doing your own. While flipping through multiple hangers of clothes, finally a certain dress caught your eye.
It was definitely a sight, the quality of the fabric of the dress was incredible, and the details on the seams were so cohesive that it became mesmerizing. You studied the dress in your hands for a minute or two until a low voice behind you spoke, “That’s a great choice.” Your head turned to look at Choso, who was standing a respectful distance behind you, hands in his pockets and one ankle hooked over the other as he leaned the side of his body against the nearest wall with the same neutral expression. You blink twice before finally snapping from your daze and responding, “Oh yeah?” is all you could muster while trying to hide the shock in your tone that he is actually talking to you right now. “Mhm. I think it would suit you,” he replied in his usual calm but especially gentle tone that makes you melt, “From everything we’ve been looking at, this is the best.” Did…he just say we? Like he’s been paying attention to you this entire time? When this realization hits, you can’t help but smile at how adorable he is, “You’re right. I like this one a lot too.”
While you share this sweet moment with your crush, a frustrated scoff is heard from behind both of you, “Can you even afford that?” That girl snickers while giving you a nasty up-down look as she walks up to stand too close to Choso at his position against the wall. Her comment takes you aback, completely unprovoked and just plain unnecessary, as you open your mouth to clap back, Choso beats you to it, “That’s rude. Don’t say that to your friend.” His expression shifts slightly in distaste towards her comment, brows furrowed and lips in a small frown, before taking two steps towards you and away from her. “Even if she couldn’t, why would you judge her?”
The girl is completely speechless, and her face flushes with embarrassment. “Whatever..” she mutters, rolling her eyes while walking away with her pride bruised. You watch her leave completely defeated, your head slowly turns back to the man standing next to you with disbelief written all over it, “What?” he blinks at you like that was nothing. The innocent glint in his eyes makes your lips form into a smile once again, and you just laugh, “Thanks for being my knight in shining armor.” You said with a hint of teasing in your tone while giving him a playful jab with your elbow.
Just as you predicted, this man did in fact become your one and only true love. Years later, this blossomed into the beautiful marriage you have today, with a son just as sweet and adorable as he is. Here are the three of you in a car ride back home from picking up your son from kindergarten, and he’s telling you all about what he learned today. “And after we colored during recess.” He said all wide-eyed with a bright smile in the backseat, “That sounds fun! Did you like coloring?” You asked in that mom tone you have now acquired from the 5 years of being one. “Yes! I wanna color more!” He chirped happily, giggling with a sparkle in those big brown, innocent eyes that were identical to your husband's. Choso was in the driver’s seat with a hand on your thigh, drawing loving lazy patterns as he watched his son from the rearview mirror with a smile on his face. “Coloring is a great hobby, we should get you new supplies to do it at home.” He said with excitement in his tone, already imagining all the doodles his son’s brilliant mind could come up with. When the expected excited giggles and immediate enthusiastic child response doesn’t come, you and Choso share a confused glance at each other. “Is something wrong, bud?” He asks softly, adjusting in the driver’s seat to get a better look at his son’s face through the review mirror, concern etched into his expression. A beat of silence.
“Um…but..Mommy doesn’t have any paper rectangles in her purse.” Your son mumbles, the sound of his voice shy with a hint of sadness.
Both your expressions soften almost instantly as the realization sets in, sharing another glance, but this one with a smile. One of the recent things Choso has been teaching your son is money. Since he always comes shopping with both of you and is constantly playing with dollar bills your husband hands him, while waiting in line to pay, Choso started explaining what the paper in his small baby's hands is used for. Explaining the money in simple terms with the patience only a loving father has, and a warm, proud smile as he picks up on it quickly.
Choso squeezes your thigh gently, his big hand grabbing onto every inch he can. “Baby, you see?! He does remember what I taught him!” Your husband turns his head towards you with a proud glint in his eyes before looking back to the road. You were silent for a couple of seconds, a smile fading slowly as a realization set in. You turn your head towards him very slowly, “Our son just called me broke.”
Your words came out as if your heart had been shattered into pieces. Your husband’s expression changes instantly as he notices your reaction, “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that, hon-“ He gets cut off by the sound of the shuffling you're doing in your seat to fully turn around and look at your son in the backseat. “Mommy is gonna prove to you that she has a lot of money.” You say reaching out to hold his hand, your son readily taking hold of it, obviously misunderstanding the situation. “Cho baby, pull over.” You say with the sweetest tone you could possibly muster, Choso glances at you again with growing concern for what he thinks is about to happen. “I think that might be unnecessa—“ Your eyes make contact with him sharply. “Choso. Pull over.” He sighs deeply before switching lanes to the nearest supplies store, “Honey...” You huff, letting go of your son's small hand and turning back to face forward in your seat as you gather your purse. “Let’s go.”
Without waiting for a response, you get out of the car, walk to your son's side of the car, and get him out of his car seat before securing him on your hip with your arms around him. Choso locks the car door and walks over to you both before putting his hand on your lower back and guiding you inside. Your son swings his legs on either side of you, looking at the store with an awestruck expression. Minutes later, you’re walking through the halls of the art section, leading the way with Choso pushing the shopping cart as you drag your hand through the shelves, knocking every product into the cart. “Baby, you missed one.” Choso says softly from behind you and nods towards the paint you missed. You knock it into the shopping cart with a satisfied smile, “See? Mommy can afford it.” You say sweetly to your son before bouncing him on your hip to make him smile brighter than he already is, looking at all his new art supplies with a twinkle in his eyes. “Wow! Mommy, this is all for me!?” He says excitedly, Choso just smiles at the interaction, shaking his head slightly as he starts following behind you to the checkout.
RYOMEN SUKUNA
After a grueling day of work, phone calls, and online meetings, you and your husband finally get the chance to sit back, relax, and watch the reality TV show that he swears he’s not interested in. Salty snacks, sweet treats, and drinks are on a tray you gathered up quickly before settling into your side of the bed.
Sukuna grumbles as he walks into your shared bedroom, the top pair of his arms drying his hair with a towel after his shower, “That show has another episode tonight. Such distasteful forms of entertainment.” Shaking his head in irritation while grabbing the remote from his nightstand with his free bottom right hand. You roll your eyes, hand digging into the warm bowl of popcorn, “If you don’t want to watch it, we don’t have to.” His face scrunches up as if he had just been offended while settling into his side of the bed. He looks you up and down with his usual annoyance and scoffs, “Entertainment is entertainment, woman.” His sassy attitude always amuses you. How can you take him seriously when he’s cuddling up next to you? His arm wraps around you and pulls you closer to his side while turning on the TV. “Right, right, sorry your highness.” You giggle as your hand brings some popcorn to the mouth on his stomach, and he shoots you a quick glare, huffing before reluctantly accepting the food, “Don’t let it happen again.”
After about 20 minutes of watching the episode, you both are extremely focused on the drama that the snacks have been left untouched for a bit, reaching for them slower and slower than the last time. Sukuna swears this is boring, but he’s the one who comments the most, “This mortal won’t stop talking,” one moment, and then a, “How awfully irritating this is,” another moment. All these complaints, but if you even imply to change the show, an immediate glare from his second set of eyes meets your peripheral vision, his bottom arm pulling you closer by the waist while the top arms are crossed behind his head. His hand caresses your side mindlessly, occasionally getting low enough to your hip and getting a sneaky squeeze before coming back to the middle of your waist.
As the episode is reaching its pinnacle of drama, you and your husband are so focused that you have to remember to manually blink or your eyes will get too dry. Suddenly, the door to your bedroom bursts open, both of your heads snap towards the door, you did a slight jump from being off guard, but Sukuna was just annoyed from the interruption. “Oh, there you guys are.” Your daughter let out a breath of relief while walking towards your bed. “Hi, sweetheart! How was your hangout?” You reply, sitting up straighter to greet your daughter, Sukuna huffs from the fact that you pulled away from his side and crosses his bottom pair of arms over his chest. “Ugh, Mom, that’s what I came to talk to you guys about. My friends were being such assholes.” She sat on the edge of the bed, a defeated sort of tone in her voice.
Your brows raise immediately from her words, reaching for the remote, and you pause the show. The second you do that, Sukuna groans, “Woman.” Your eyes snap to your husband’s, the most menacing look on your face for a split second makes him get his act right, reluctantly, of course, but it is done nonetheless. “Tell us everything.” You resume speaking to your daughter, patting the middle of the bed for her to come closer to you guys. She exhales loudly again while slumping herself over the space between your legs and your husband’s. “So while we were hanging out, the prom topic came up, and I started asking where everyone was getting their dresses from…” she started, a little pout forming on her lips as she spoke, “and you won’t believe what they said to me..” The emphasis becomes even more pronounced as she snatches the bag of gummies off your tray. “We’d tell you, but I don't think you can afford to shop there.” She mimics the voice of her friend while stuffing her face with a few gummies.
Your face drops, scoffing while the unprovoked comment is still processing in your brain, however Sukuna remains with his usual scowl. “Like who the hell says that?” She scoffs while shaking her head in frustration as if she’s reliving the baffling and embarrassing moment over and over. You dig into the gummy bag your daughter is holding and take out a handful of them. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.” You start by waving the sour little gummy worm around, “First, you are blocking them, cause ‘friends’ is the last thing they are to you,” then toss that gummy into your mouth. “Second, I’m calling up my assistant to make a list of the most luxurious boutiques. You’re gonna skip school, and we’re all going there.” You say while chewing, “Because you are going to be the best dressed and styled at that prom. Trust me, I'm hiring a makeup artist and a hairstylist too.” Then, as you pop another two gummies in your mouth before you start to speak again. Or so you thought.
“Let’s kill them.” A gravely voice suddenly interrupts the conversation, one that never usually has anything to say. Both of your heads turn to Sukuna, who is glancing between the two of you. Your daughter glances at you, then at him, “What?” He said plainly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, a deep exhale escapes you, “Dear…we can’t do that. Just making sure she shows off is fine.” His brow raises, and he clicks his tongue, “Back in my day, death was the lightest sentence to receive.” You reach out to caress his bicep in comfort, appreciating his attempt to help despite it being outrageous, “I know. Luckily, it isn’t the Heian era anymore.” An amused snicker escapes you as his face scrunches up in reminiscence of his golden age. “In fact, wiping out the entire familial bloodline sounds more appropriate for this matter.” He nods his head in approval of his own idea, while your laughter only increases, “Dear, that’s absurd—“ but you’re interrupted.
“Now that is proper revenge. Fantastic idea, Dad!” Your daughter chirps, her expression completely opposite from a few moments before. “Can you include her pets, too? She loves her fat hamsters more than anything, so you have to destroy them.” She adds while sitting up and giving puppy eyes to her father, who cracks a proud smile. “Of course, Child. The creatures shall receive their sentence first, then the rest of her loved ones, as we save the most grueling punishment for the peasant.” Your daughter shrieks in absolute joy and jumps toward Sukuna, embracing him as strongly as she possibly could, “You’re the best! Thank you so much!!” His bottom set of arms embraces her openly, nodding with a pleased look on his face. “No one dares to insult my mortal spawn and remain capable of drawing breath.” As this adorable moment between father and daughter occurs, you can’t decide if this is sweet or something you should actually be concerned about.
ᝰ.ᐟ studying anatomy is hard, but lucky you, your boyfriend satoru is jacked
the textbook was a weapon, and it was currently winning.
you stared blankly at a diagram of a human torso, the labels blurring into a dizzying soup of latin words. your upper body anatomy quiz was tomorrow morning, and true to form, you were cramming the night before. you hadn't even been at it for an hour, but your brain was already completely fried.
"okay, wait," you muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. "does the bicep sit higher than the tricep? or is the tricep on top? no that's… wait, where is the brachialis again?"
it was hopeless. you'd look at a muscle, repeat its name five times, look away, and immediately erase it from your memory. with a dramatic groan, you collapsed backward onto your bed, letting the heavy textbook rest precariously on your stomach. you were officially doomed.
the mattress dipped.
a flash of white hair entered your peripheral vision as satoru crawled onto the bed, shifting smoothly until he was hovering over you like a giant, ridiculously attractive cat.
"look at you, absolutely suffering," satoru teased, a sharp, playful grin tugging at his lips. "i can practically hear your brain short-circuiting from over here, babe."
you opened your eyes to glare at him, but the retort died in your throat. because, of course, satoru had decided to wear that shirt tonight. it was a long-sleeved, black compression top that clung to every single line of his frame, highlighting a ridiculously broad chest and sculpted shoulders.
he was just a criminally handsome guy who clearly spent way too much time at the gym. it was completely unfair how he could look that good just from lifting weights while you were drowning in textbooks.
"go away," you wheezed, weakly lifting a hand to push at his face. "you’re a distraction. a highly illegal distraction."
"me? a distraction?" satoru gasped in mock offense. he shifted his weight, dropping down to lie on his stomach next to you. he propped his chin up with his hands, a movement that caused the fabric of his shirt to tauten over the heavy definition of his upper back and shoulders.
your eyes tracked the movement. you blinked once. twice.
wait.
you looked from the textbook diagram of the deltoids and pectorals, then right back to satoru’s very real, very defined body. a sudden, brilliant spark of desperation ignited in your fried brain.
"toru," you said, your tone suddenly dead serious. "take your shirt off."
satoru froze, his smirk faltering into a look of genuine, rare bewilderment. his beautiful blue eyes blinked in confusion. "wh—now? i mean, i love the enthusiasm, babe, but i thought you were failing a class?"
"just do it. for science. for my gpa."
muttering something about how you were terrifying when stressed, satoru crossed his arms and pulled the compression shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. he sat cross-legged on the bed, presenting a perfect, shirtless canvas of lean muscle.
"alright, i'm naked—well, half-naked. what's the plan, professor?"
you didn’t answer. instead, you lunged off the bed, grabbed a neon green washable expo marker from your desk, and crawled back over to him with a manic look in your eye.
satoru eyed the marker warily. "uh, what is that for?"
"hold still," you commanded, uncapping the marker with your teeth.
you leaned in close, your left hand resting gently on his shoulder for balance while your right hand brought the marker to his skin. satoru tensed for a fraction of a second at the cool, damp touch of the felt tip, but quickly relaxed, watching you with an amused, fond expression as you began to draw.
"okay," you murmured, tracing a neat box right over his chest. "these are the pectoralis major. big chest muscles. easy." you wrote pec major in bold green letters right across his right pectoral.
"wow, using my body as a cheat sheet. i feel objectified. do it more," satoru chuckled, his chest vibrating under your hand.
"shh! i'm concentrating," you chided, moving your marker up to his shoulder. you traced the rounded muscle cap. "deltoid. anterior, lateral, posterior. it's like a shoulder pad." you carefully scribbled deltoid on his shoulder, giving it a little pat.
"and what about these?" satoru asked, flexing his arm slightly, a proud grin on his face.
you stared at his arm, the marker hovering. "ah! the age-old question. bicep is on the front, tricep is on the back. bicep pulls the arm in, tricep extends it." to cement it in your memory, you drew a giant arrow on his inner arm pointing up labeled bicep, and a matching one on the back labeled tricep.
for the next thirty minutes, satoru’s bedroom turned into a live-action, neon-green anatomy lab. you moved around him like a mad scientist, labeling his serratus anterior (the "rib muscles," as you initially called them), his trapezius, and even trying to map out his abs, though you kept getting distracted because his stomach kept twitching from being tickled by the marker.
"stop laughing, toru, i'm trying to find your external obliques!"
"i can't help it! your hands are cold and that marker is tickling the life out of me!" he gasped, squirming away from the green tip.
finally, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. satoru was covered from the waist up in bright green boxes, arrows, and messy anatomical terms. he looked absolutely ridiculous, completely contrasting his runway-model face.
satoru looked down at himself, then glanced in the vanity mirror across the room. he burst out laughing. "i look like a radioactive paint-by-numbers project."
"you look like an a-plus," you corrected proudly, capping the marker. "i actually remember them now. visual learning is a powerful tool."
satoru smiled, leaning forward and wrapping his green-labeled arms around your waist to pull you into his lap. "glad i could be of service to your education. but you know this stuff washes off, right? what are you going to do during the actual quiz tomorrow when you can't look at my chest?"
you hummed, resting your hands against his (now labeled) pectorals. "i'll just close my eyes and visualize my very hot, very heavily graffitied boyfriend."
"perfect," satoru beamed, kissing your forehead. "but if you get a hundred, you owe me a real date. one where you don't use me as school supplies."
Megumi having a girlfriend?? ...THAT CAN ALSO COOK?! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
the others can't believe it
Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Reader
The common area of the second-year dorms (though they would always, in their hearts, feel like the first-years) was usually a zone of high-decibel chaos. On any given afternoon, Yuji Itadori would be upside down on the sofa trying to catch a stray popcorn kernel in his mouth, Nobara Kugisaki would be aggressively painting her nails while yelling at a shopping channel on TV, and Megumi Fushiguro would be sitting in the single armchair, trying to read a book while actively pretending his classmates were a localized weather phenomenon he could ignore.
Today, however, the common area was dead silent.
The air was heavy, not with the oppressive presence of a special-grade curse, but with something far more terrifying: the rich, buttery, savory aroma of freshly baked beef stew, homemade milk bread, and a perfectly glazed strawberry tart sitting dead center on the low coffee table.
Yuji and Nobara were currently on their hands and knees, staring at the spread like it was an ancient, forbidden relic.
"It’s still warm," Yuji whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of reverence and profound psychological distress. "Nobara... the steam is still coming off the bread."
"I see it, Itadori. Keep your voice down," Nobara hissed back, her eyes wide, her knuckles white where she gripped the edge of the table. "If we look away, it might disappear. Or worse... it might turn out to be a curse user’s trap."
From the armchair, the crisp sound of a page turning broke the silence.
"It’s not a trap," Megumi said, his voice flat, completely unbothered. "She made it because she knew we’d be back from the Miyagi mission late. She said you two looked like you weren’t eating enough vegetables the last time she saw you."
Yuji’s head snapped toward Megumi so fast his neck made a sickening pop sound. "You say that so casually! 'She made it.' 'She said.' Fushiguro, do you have any idea what you are doing to our fragile mental states?!"
"He doesn't care, Yuji," Nobara said, her voice dropping an octave into a tone of pure, unadulterated betrayal. "Look at him. Sitting there. With his dumb spikey hair and his dumb shadow puppets. He thinks he’s better than us just because a literal angel descended from the heavens, looked at his sullen, emotionally stunted face, and said, 'Yes, I would like to date this specific hedgehog.'"
Megumi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He closed his book with a soft thud. "She isn’t an angel. She’s just a normal person. And I told you, she likes cooking for groups. If you don't want it, I'll eat it all myself."
"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH IT!" Yuji and Nobara screamed in unison, throwing themselves over the food like secret service agents protecting a president.
To understand the depth of their psychological crisis, one had to understand that Megumi Fushiguro was supposed to be the sensible, boring one. He was the guy who drank black coffee, complained about people who didn't follow proper garbage sorting rules, and whose idea of a wild Friday night was reading a book about ancient architecture while his dogs napped on his feet.
He was not supposed to have a girlfriend.
And yet, three weeks ago, the universe had proved them wrong.
They had been walking back through the streets of Tokyo after an exhausting, muddy exorcism in an abandoned subway line. Yuji had a smudge of grease across his forehead, Nobara’s uniform was torn at the sleeve, and Megumi looked like he usually did—grumpy, tired, and ready to sleep for a week.
Suddenly, a voice had cut through the crowd. A soft, clear, genuinely joyful voice.
"Megumi-kun!"
Yuji and Nobara had stopped in their tracks. They had looked at each other, then looked at Megumi. Megumi’s shoulders had instantly dropped their defensive posture. His face hadn't exactly cracked into a smile—that would require a miracle—but his eyes had softened in a way that neither of his classmates had ever seen before.
Walking toward them was a girl. A profoundly, unfairly pretty girl. She had soft, bouncing hair, a smile that seemed to emit actual, physical light, and she was wearing a yellow sundress that looked entirely too clean for the grime of Tokyo’s jujutsu underworld.
She had jogged up to Megumi, completely ignoring his intimidating black uniform and the fact that he was covered in dirt, and lightly caught his sleeve.
"I thought that was you," she had said, beaming up at him. "Are you finally done with work for the day? You look exhausted."
Megumi had rubbed the back of his neck, a faint tint of pink dusting his ears. "Yeah. Just finished. What are you doing around here?"
"Buying groceries for dinner. I was hoping I’d run into you." She had then turned her bright, sparkling eyes onto Yuji and Nobara. "Oh! Are these your friends from school? The ones you told me about?"
At that exact moment, Yuji’s brain had short-circuited. He had looked at Megumi. Then at the girl. Then at Megumi’s hand, which was now lightly resting on the small of her back in a protective, entirely natural gesture.
"I'm Itadori Yuji!" Yuji had bellowed, bowing so hard his forehead nearly hit the pavement. "It is an honor to meet someone who can tolerate Fushiguro!"
"Hey! Stand up, you’re embarrassing me," Nobara had hissed, shoving Yuji aside before presenting herself with the poise of a high-fashion model. "Kugisaki Nobara. And let me just say, sweetie... if he’s kidnapping you, or holding you hostage via some weird shadow curse, just blink twice. I have a hammer and I am not afraid to use it."
The girl had laughed—a sound that Yuji later described as "like little silver bells ringing in a meadow"—and shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Megumi-kun is very sweet to me. I'm so glad to finally meet you both. He talks about you all the time."
"He does?!" Yuji and Nobara had gasped, turning glares of absolute shock onto Megumi.
Megumi had aggressively looked away, his entire face now bright red. "We have to go. Gojo is waiting for the report."
"Right, of course," she had said understandingly, reaching into her tote bag and pulling out a beautifully wrapped container tied with a pink ribbon. "Here. I made some lemon tarts this morning. I brought enough for your classmates and your teacher. Please eat them before they get warm!"
She had handed the container to a catatonic Yuji, given Megumi a soft, lingering wave, and walked away into the sunset.
That had been three weeks ago. Since then, the reality of "Megumi's Girlfriend" had become a permanent, baffling fixture in their lives.
Back in the dorm common room, Yuji finally cracked. He grabbed a piece of the homemade milk bread, tore it in half, and shoved it into his mouth.
For a second, his eyes rolled back into his head. He let out a low, guttural moan of pure culinary ecstasy. "Oh my god. It's so soft. It’s like eating a cloud that was baked by a saint."
"Let me try!" Nobara grabbed a spoon, scooped up a generous portion of the beef stew, and ate it. Her expression instantly shifted from suspicious rage to profound, weeping reverence. "The meat... it just dissolves. How does she get the carrots this tender without them turning to mush? Itadori, she’s a witch. A culinary sorcerer. She’s using a cursed technique on the kitchen, there’s no other explanation."
"I told you," Megumi said, not looking up from his book. "She just follows the recipe."
"Shut up, Fushiguro! You don't deserve her!" Nobara pointed her spoon at him accusingly. "You don't appreciate the artistry! Look at you, just sitting there, existing, while a Michelin-star chef pours her heart and soul into Tupperware for you!"
"I do appreciate it," Megumi muttered, a slight defensive edge entering his voice. "I washed the containers from last week and brought them back to her. And I bought her those specific strawberries for the tart."
Yuji stopped chewing, his mouth full of bread. He swallowed hard. "Wait. You bought her strawberries? Like... on purpose? To be romantic?"
"To be useful," Megumi corrected, though his ears were turning pink again. "She said she wanted to bake something with fruit. I saw them at the market. It’s not a big deal."
"It is a huge deal!" Yuji yelled, slamming his hands on the table. "Fushiguro is doing boyfriend things! The world is ending! Next thing you know, he’s gonna start wearing matching sweaters or holding hands in public!"
"We already hold hands," Megumi said flatly.
Yuji and Nobara froze.
"You... what?" Nobara whispered.
"We hold hands. When we walk. It’s a normal thing people do." Megumi finally looked up, staring at them like they were insane. "Why are you acting like I confessed to a crime?"
"Because it feels like a crime!" Nobara cried out, clutching her head. "You’re Megumi Fushiguro! You’re supposed to be the brooding, dark, mysterious lone wolf who dies alone in a pile of ancient texts! You aren't supposed to have a sweet, pretty girl who holds your hand and bakes us lemon tarts! It throws off the entire dynamic of our trio! Now Yuji and I look like the pathetic, single losers we actually are!"
"Speak for yourself, Nobara! I have a thriving inner life!" Yuji protested, though he looked deeply hurt by the reminder.
Before the argument could escalate, the door to the common area burst open with a dramatic BANG.
"Did someone say... home-cooked meals?!"
A towering figure stepped into the room, practically radiating a chaotic, blinding energy. Satoru Gojo stood in the doorway, his signature black blindfold in place, a massive, predatory grin stretched across his face. He didn't even look at his students; his nose was elevated, sniffing the air like a hound tracking a fox.
"Ah! The unmistakable scent of a girl who actually knows how to season food!" Gojo cheered, practically teleporting across the room. Before Yuji or Nobara could react, Gojo had already snatched a piece of the milk bread and scooped a massive portion of the stew into a bowl he had apparently brought with him from his own quarters.
"Sensei! That’s ours!" Yuji wailed.
"Sharing is caring, Yuji-kun!" Gojo mumbled around a mouthful of stew. He let out a loud, dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "Ah... wonderful. Magnificent. Truly, Megumi, I have never been prouder of you as a mentor. When you first brought home those stray dogs, I thought, 'Well, at least he likes animals.' But to bring home a girl who can cook like this? You’ve surpassed all my expectations."
"Please don't talk about her like she’s a stray animal."
"Oh, come on! A girl this sweet? Whispering sweet nothings into your grumpy little ears?" Gojo leaned over the back of Megumi's chair, draping his long arms over the boy’s shoulders and violently ruffling his hair. "Tell me, tell me! Does she call you 'Megumi-chan'? Does she make you custom bento boxes with little octopus sausages? Oh, I bet she does! I bet she puts little love notes in them!"
"She doesn't do the octopus sausages," Megumi said, trying and failing to pry Gojo's arm off his neck. "And she calls me Megumi. Just Megumi."
"Boring!" Gojo laughed, finally releasing him and sliding into the empty spot on the sofa between Yuji and Nobara. He immediately reached for the strawberry tart. "But seriously, boys and girls, we must protect this relationship with our lives. If Megumi fumbles this, we go back to eating convenience store rice balls and whatever weird cabbage soup Ijichi tries to make. We cannot let that happen."
"We won't let it happen!" Nobara declared, her eyes burning with a sudden, fierce determination. She grabbed Megumi by his collar, pulling him forward until they were eye-to-eye. "Listen to me, Fushiguro. If you break her heart, I don't care about your Ten Shadows technique. I will nail your shadow to the floor and leave you there. Do you understand me? She is a national treasure."
"I'm not going to break her heart," Megumi muttered, breaking her grip and smoothing down his uniform. "We’ve been dating for four months. It’s fine."
"FOUR MONTHS?!" Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo screamed in unison.
"You kept it a secret for four months?!" Yuji looked like he was about to faint. "We’ve been through life-and-death battles together! I died! I literally died and came back, and you didn't think to mention, 'Hey, by the way, I have a girlfriend'?!"
"Why would I?" Megumi asked, genuinely confused. "It didn't have anything to do with missions. And I knew exactly how you all would react. Look at you right now. You’re making a scene over stew."
"It’s not just stew, Megumi," Gojo said, his voice suddenly dropping into a rare, mock-serious tone. He lifted his blindfold just enough to flash one bright, piercing blue eye. "It’s about trust. It’s about community. It’s about the fact that you’re hoarding a source of infinite joy and light in this dark, cursed world. Next time she comes over, you are required to invite us to greet her properly."
"Absolutely not," Megumi said instantly. "She thinks I go to a private religious school for troubled youth. If she meets you three for more than five minutes, she’s going to realize I'm actually surrounded by lunatics."
"Hey! I am a perfectly normal teenage girl!" Nobara protested.
"And I'm a delight!" Gojo added, giving a peace sign.
Yuji just looked down at his empty plate, a tear rolling down his cheek. "She made the carrots into little stars, Fushiguro. Little stars. If that isn't love, I don't know what is."
A week passed, and despite Megumi’s best efforts to keep his personal life entirely separate from his chaotic jujutsu existence, fate—and Satoru Gojo—had other plans.
It was a Tuesday afternoon. The first-years had just finished a grueling training session with Maki and Panda, leaving Yuji and Nobara completely drained, covered in sweat, and complaining bitterly about their sore muscles. Megumi was similarly exhausted, leaning against the main gate of the Jujutsu High campus as they waited for Ijichi to bring the car around for a grocery run.
Suddenly, a familiar, bright voice echoed from the path leading up the hill.
"Megumi-kun!"
Megumi froze. Yuji and Nobara snapped awake instantly, their exhaustion vanishing as if cured by a reverse cursed technique.
Walking up the paved path, carrying a heavy-looking insulated tote bag, was the girlfriend. Today, she was wearing a soft pink cardigan and a white skirt, looking completely out of place against the ancient, imposing, traditional architecture of the jujutsu school.
"What is she doing here?" Megumi muttered, panic visibly flaring in his eyes for the first time in his life. He immediately started walking down the path to intercept her. "I told her I’d meet her at the station..."
"Oh, no you don't!" Nobara grabbed the back of Megumi's collar, yanking him backward with supernatural strength. "You aren't hiding her from us!"
"Let go, Kugisaki—"
Before Megumi could break free, the girl had already reached them. She stopped, slightly out of breath, a bright, rosy flush on her cheeks. "Oh, hello everyone! I'm sorry to drop by unannounced. Megumi-kun left his umbrella at my apartment over the weekend, and I saw on the weather report that it’s supposed to pour this evening."
She reached into her bag, pulling out Megumi’s sleek, black umbrella, along with three beautifully wrapped, identical boxes.
"And since I knew you all worked so hard at your... religious studies," she continued, smiling sweetly at Yuji and Nobara, "I made some bento boxes for your lunch. I made sure to include extra protein since Megumi-kun mentioned you’ve been doing a lot of physical conditioning lately."
Yuji fell to his knees. "An angel. A literal, actual angel."
"Please, stand up, Itadori-kun," she said, giggling as she handed him a box. "It’s really nothing special. Just some ginger pork, tamagoyaki, and pickled plums."
"Nothing special?!" Nobara gasped, reverently accepting her bento box as if it were the Holy Grail. "Sweetheart, you are a saint!" She immediately turned a vicious glare onto Megumi. "Did you thank her? Fushiguro, did you open your mouth and form the words 'thank you,' or did you just grunt like a caveman?"
"I thanked her when she told me she was making it," Megumi said through gritted teeth, his face burning with embarrassment. "You guys need to stop."
"We will never stop," a voice boomed from above.
Megumi’s soul physically left his body as Satoru Gojo dropped down from the roof of the gatehouse, landing flawlessly right next to them.
"Ah! The lovely lady herself!" Gojo grinned, leaning down to bring himself eye-level with the girl. Even with his blindfold on, his presence was overwhelming. "I don't believe we’ve been properly introduced. I am Satoru Gojo, Megumi's incredibly handsome, talented, and beloved teacher."
The girl didn't flinch. In fact, her eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh! Gojo-sensei! Megumi-kun has told me so much about you!"
Megumi looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "I haven't told you that much..."
"He told me you’re a bit of a handful, but that you really care about your students," she said with a warm, genuine smile. She reached into her tote bag one last time and pulled out a slightly larger, gold-ribboned box. "I made this specifically for you, Sensei. Megumi-kun mentioned you have a massive sweet tooth, so it’s a triple-chocolate fudge cake with homemade raspberry glaze."
Gojo froze. For a terrifying two seconds, the strongest sorcerer alive was completely speechless. He stared at the box, then at the girl, then at Megumi.
Gojo slowly lifted his blindfold, revealing his striking, glowing blue eyes. He looked at the cake with a level of intensity usually reserved for special-grade curses. He took the box with trembling hands.
"You... you made this? For me?" Gojo whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "Based on a casual complaint Megumi made?"
"It wasn't a complaint! It was just a fact!" Megumi yelled, his face completely red now.
"Yes," the girl said, totally unfazed by Gojo's dramatic reaction. "Megumi-kun cares about you a lot, Sensei. He doesn't say it out loud, but he always worries when you’re away on long trips. I figured a little sugar might help with your stressful job."
Gojo clutched the cake to his chest, a single, dramatic tear rolling down his cheek. He spun around, pointing a finger at Megumi.
"Megumi Fushiguro," Gojo said, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "If you ever, ever let this girl go, I will personally excommunicate you from the jujutsu world. I will hand your position as head of the Zenin clan over to a curse. Do you understand me? She is the light of our lives."
"I told you to stop!" Megumi snapped, finally losing his cool. He grabbed his girlfriend’s hand—causing Yuji and Nobara to let out synchronized, high-pitched gasps—and began gently pulling her away down the path. "Come on. I'll walk you to the station. Ignore them. They’re all insane."
The girl didn't look bothered at all. She just laughed her musical laugh, waving back at the trio as Megumi dragged her away. "Goodbye, everyone! Enjoy the bento! Make sure Megumi-kun eats his carrots!"
"WE WILL!" Yuji and Nobara screamed back, waving frantically like children watching a ship sail away.
"We love you!" Gojo yelled, already tearing into the gold ribbon of his chocolate cake.
Ten minutes later, Megumi returned to the gate alone. His umbrella was hooked over his arm, his hands were in his pockets, and his expression was a mask of pure, defensive hostility.
Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo were sitting in a circle on the grass, their respective bento boxes and cake open before them. They were eating in a state of quiet, spiritual enlightenment.
"Sit," Nobara commanded, pointing a chopstick at the empty patch of grass.
Megumi sighed and sat down, crossing his legs. "What do you want?"
"We want details, Fushiguro," Yuji said, his mouth full of perfectly seasoned ginger pork. "How did this happen? How did a guy who looks like a disappointed wet cat manage to land a girl who bakes custom chocolate cakes for his annoying teacher?"
"I told you, we met at a bookstore," Megumi said dryly. "We were both looking at the same section on regional history. We started talking. That’s it."
"And then what?" Nobara pressed, leaning in. "Did you ask for her number? Did you use your weird, brooding charm? Did you summon Divine Dog to trick her into petting it?"
Megumi’s eyes widened slightly, a guilty flash passing over his features.
"HA! YOU DID!" Nobara shrieked, pointing at him. "You used the dogs! You absolute scoundrel! You weaponized the fluffy shadows!"
"I didn't weaponize them," Megumi protested, looking away. "It was raining on our second date. We were walking past a park, and she was talking about how she always wanted a dog but her apartment didn't allow pets. I... I just summoned the white one for a second so she could pet it. I told her it was a special breed."
"A special breed?!" Yuji burst out laughing, slapping his knee. "A special breed of what, Fushiguro?! A shikigami generated from your cursed energy?!"
"She thought it was a very large, well-behaved husky," Megumi muttered, his cheeks flushing pink again. "She gave him a treat. He liked her. He wouldn't leave her alone."
"Of course he liked her, she radiates positive energy!" Gojo chimed in, a massive smear of chocolate frosting on his cheek. "Even cursed energy probably purifies itself around her. This cake is a masterpiece, by the way. I might cry. I might actually cry, Megumi."
"Please don't," Megumi said.
"But seriously, Fushiguro," Yuji said, his tone softening a bit as he looked at his friend. "She really likes you. Like, a lot. The way she looks at you... it’s like she thinks you hung the moon or something. It’s kind of nice to see."
Megumi looked down at his lap, his expression softening just a fraction. He traced a pattern on the grass with his finger. "She’s... she’s good to me. She doesn't know anything about curses, or sorcery, or any of the terrible things we see every day. When I'm with her, I don't have to be a sorcerer. I can just... be me."
The common area went quiet. Yuji and Nobara exchanged a look, their teasing nature instantly melting away into genuine, heartfelt affection for their friend. They knew better than anyone how heavy the burden of being a jujutsu sorcerer was, especially for Megumi, who carried the weight of his clan and his past on his shoulders.
Nobara reached over, lightly punching Megumi’s shoulder. "Well... she’s too good for you, obviously. But I guess we’ll let it slide. Just make sure you treat her right, okay? If she ever stops bringing us those lemon tarts because you were being a moody brat, I will personally exorcise you."
Megumi let out a very small, barely perceptible smile. "Yeah. I know."
"Group hug!" Gojo cheered, throwing his long arms around all three of them, ignoring their loud groans and protests as he smeared chocolate frosting onto Nobara’s hair.
A month later, a small package arrived at the Jujutsu High dorms, addressed to Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo.
Inside were three boxes of handmade, sugar-dusted cookies shaped like little dogs—one black, one white—along with a small note written in elegant, looping handwriting:
To Megumi-kun’s friends and Sensei,Thank you for always taking such good care of him during your studies. He seems much happier lately, and I know it’s because he has such wonderful people around him. Please enjoy these treats!
P.S. Megumi-kun, don't forget to eat your vegetables!
Yuji and Nobara sat on the floor, chewing on the dog-shaped cookies with tears in their eyes, while Gojo happily munched on a whole handful at once.
"We have to protect her," Yuji whispered.
"With our lives," Nobara agreed solemnly.
From the armchair, Megumi just sighed, turned the page of his book, and secretly pulled a small, hand-knitted green coaster out of his pocket—a gift she had made to keep his coffee mugs from leaving rings on his desk. He smiled, just a little, completely at peace.
I just read your dolaar fic and it's amazing!!! It's so hard to find stuff with a desi reader. I adore your stuff!
Could I possibly request an August x Desi!male! reader fic? Like the reader's a cleaner and his vital instrument is two of his metal bengals. Maybe the bengals turn really big (like a foot or two diameter) with the gems turning into sharp spikes when he activates it. And he likes to hole up in August's work room and just quietly hang out off to the side when he's not training or on missions. (Ik it's normally women that wear bengals, but I'm a guy and wear some)
There was always the faint scratch of charcoal against paper, the metallic clink of tools shifting somewhere across the room, the soft rustle of fabric being moved from one place to another.
But compared to most days, it was peaceful.
Warm sunlight spilled through the workshop windows, painting strips of gold across the floorboards and illuminating countless bolts of fabric stacked neatly around the room.
Cotton.
Silk.
Linen.
Embroidery samples.
Sketchbooks.
Half-finished designs.The entire space looked like it had been overtaken by an enthusiastic tailor.
Which, admittedly, it had.August stood several feet away, one hand supporting his chin while the other held a sketchbook. You had draw the designs for the clothing line,desi inspired because you deman-ASKED.
His eyes narrowed.Not critically.
Thoughtfully.Professionally.
Meanwhile, Y/N was beginning to regret every life decision that had led him to this exact moment:"Jaan?"Love
Y/N sighed,dramatically like he has been standing her for 5 hours,what,actually felt like it..
"You said that twenty minutes ago." August ignored the complaint.Mostly because he was busy.
Partly because Y/N looked magnificent.The latest piece draped over Y/N's shoulders was inspired by clothing from his homeland.
Not a direct copy.
August would never insult another culture by simply reproducing it without understanding.
''Does it go well with my Bangels?''You asked in which august nodded.
''acha!'' Okay!
August nodded,understanding what you meant after dating for 5 months.Instead he had spent months listening.Learning.Asking questions.Studying details.
Meanings.Traditions.Stories.
The significance behind certain patterns.The symbolism of embroidery.The history woven into every stitch.
And now those inspirations had begun appearing in his newest collection.
The long coat currently resting on Y/N's shoulders carried hints of a sherwani silhouette.
Structured.
Elegant.
Regal.
Gold embroidery climbed across deep emerald fabric in intricate patterns inspired by designs Y/N had shown him months ago.The sleeves were fitted.The collar stood high.And somehow it suited him perfectly.August made another note.Crossed something out.
Added something else.
Y/n shifted slightly.
The movement caused several decorative chains to sway.
Immediately
"Don't move."
Y/n froze:"...You realize people usually say please,Jaan"
August looked up:"I know."
"You choose not to."
"Correct."
Y/n rolled his eyes.Despite his complaints, he remained standing.
Patiently.Mostly.Because this happened frequently now.
Whenever August wanted to test a design, Y/n somehow became involved.
At first it had been practical.A matter of measurements.
Fit.Movement.Functionality.
Then it had become suspicious. Because August apparently designed half his collection with Y/n specifically in mind.
Not that either of them acknowledged this.
"Lift your arm."
Y/n obeyed.August adjusted a sleeve.Stepped back.Looked.Stepped forward again.Adjusted something else.His fingers were careful.
Precise.
Professional.
Yet there was an undeniable gentleness in every movement.The sort reserved for things one valued."You know," Y/N said eventually.
"Hm?"
"The fit could use some gems....and sequins! and some pearls OH AN-."
"When the fit is ready for the details,we will''August said,sowing needles in his mouth as he corrected the hip.
"Can I choose them?''You asked sweetly
''...you can''August said
''ÝAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY''You said,jumping up and down while August continued working.
August placed his hands on your waist ''STAY STILL!''
Y/n could feel warmth creeping into his face.August immediately focused very hard on his sketchbook while holding you. He was trying to completye the motive around the waist area.
Y/n laughed what made August smiled too and grin wide.
every new design inspired by Y/N's culture was proof of something he rarely said aloud.
August listened.He remembered.He cared.And perhaps nothing made that clearer than the fact that every sketch pinned around the workshop walls carried traces of home woven into the fabric.Not because August found the designs beautiful.Though he did. But because the man wearing them was.You spended the evening sitting behind August on his bike while he rode around-you went along with an improtant errand,he ran out of black thread.Stopped in canvas town just for the fun and were now riding back.
The first time people saw Y/N's Vital Instrument activate, they laughed.
Not for long.
The bangles themselves looked harmless enough. Thick metal kadas resting comfortably around his wrists, decorated with small gemstones that glimmered whenever they caught the light.
People underestimated them.
Then they learned.
The moment Y/N activated his Jinki, the gemstones split apart with a metallic click. Segments unfolded from the bangles like blooming steel flowers, expanding outward until two massive rings hovered around him, each nearly two feet across.
The jewels elongated into vicious spikes.The air itself seemed to hum.And suddenly nobody was laughing anymore.Y/n, however, remained exactly the same.
Quiet.Calm.Unbothered-
''AND CUT!'' August yelled,looking at the photo, the fan for the wind-effect was turned off.
''Did you get my good side?''You asked,doing a hair flip.''Oh what am I saying,as if I have a bad side-''
''You blinked''August said,zooming in.
''What?!''
Most people expected someone with a weapon that intimidating to have a larger personality.Instead, Y/n spent most of his free time cleaning.
Not because he had to.Because he liked it.There was something satisfying about taking a cluttered space and making it neat again.Something comforting about order.Which was probably why he ended up spending so much time in August Stiltza's workshop.The room was a disaster.An organized disaster, according to August.A disaster, according to everyone else.
Including Y/n.
The workshop door creaked open.August didn't bother looking up.He already knew who it was.The soft footsteps.The familiar presence.The faint metallic clink of bangles. "Good afternoon,mera Laddduuuuuu."Y/N hummed in greeting.Ladduu (dessert)
August continued working.Y/n immediately began picking things up:"You don't have to do that."
"I'm aware."A pair siccor disappeared from the floor.A stack of papers was straightened.Several tools found their way back to their proper locations.August watched from the corner of his eye: "You say that every time."
"And yet you keep leaving things everywhere."
A pause.
"You sound judgmental."
"I am." Despite his words, Y/N's expression remained completely peaceful.That was another thing August liked.There was a certain quietness about him.
Not shyness.Not nervousness.Simply comfort.Y/N never felt the need to fill silence.He could sit in the same room for hours without speaking and somehow the silence never became awkward.
It became comfortable.Eventually Y/n finished cleaning.Then, like always, he claimed his spot.The bed he treats like its his throne.
August had never officially given it to him.Y/n had simply started sitting there months ago.Now it felt strange whenever it was empty.
For a while neither spoke.
The workshop filled with the sounds of tools scraping against metal and pages turning.Y/n sat cross-legged on the bed, reading through an old maintenance manual he had found somewhere.Occasionally he looked up to watch August work.August occasionally looked up to find Y/n already watching him.
Neither commented on it.At some point, August noticed Y/n fidgeting with one of his bangles.The polished metal caught the light.
Something about the sight made him pause:"You wear them all the time."
Y/n glanced up:"The bangles?"
August nodded;"Mhm."
There was obvious affection in the way Y/N's fingers brushed over the metal:"My grandfather wore them....apperantly he crafted them for my grandmother...when she passed he wore it in mourning...but comfort too."
The answer was simple.But it carried weight.
History.
Family.
Memory.
August found himself studying the bracelets more carefully.Not as weapons.As something important.Something treasured.Something carried through generations:"They suit you."
The words left his mouth before he thought about them.Y/n blinked.For a brief moment, August thought nothing of it.
Then he realized Y/n was staring.
Not shocked.Not embarrassed.Just surprised:"You think so?"
August frowned slightly:"Why are you surprised?"
"I don't know." Y/n smiled:"A lot of people just see them for girls...."
August looked back toward his workbench:"You are more to the jewerly-it doesnt define what gender it should wear...."The statement sounded obvious.
The kind that settled gently between people who enjoyed each other's company.Several minutes later August realized Y/N was still smiling.
Not a large smile.Just a small one.Soft around the edges.The kind that appeared whenever he was genuinely happy.And somehow that smile lingered in August's mind for the rest of the afternoon.
Long after the conversation ended.Long after the tools were put away.Long after the sunlight faded beyond the workshop windows.
Y/n rushed to August and put him in a devestating neck hug,pecking him with kisses ''My Jaan complimented me! Mera Ladduu hame pyaar kare he!''My love complimented me! My Ladduu (desert) loves me!
Because for all the sharp edges of Y/N's Vital Instrument, there was something undeniably gentle about the man himself.And August found that he liked having that gentleness nearby.
days at jujutsu high had been rough. gojo had been assigning you on more missions than usual, schoolwork was piling up, and the days somehow kept feeling longer and longer and longer and longer…
your sweet, caring, quiet boyfriend megumi, however, noticed.
he didn’t say anything at first. that wasn’t really his “style” per say. but he saw the way your shoulders tensed a little more, the way you sighed a little heavier, the way your mind always seemed… somewhere else. and he knew he wanted to do something about it.
phase one: questioning
over the course of a few days, you noticed him asking more questions: your favorite candy, your favorite drink, your favorite movie. little details about you, nothing super obvious or out of the blue. you didn’t think much of it. you were WAY too overwhelmed to question it. meanwhile, megumi kept a small notebook by his bedside, carefully writing everything down. EVERY answer, EVERY detail, like it mattered more than anything else. (he’s so adorable 🥹🥹)
phase two: planning
you and megumi had your usual days, set times during the week where you would hang out. always the same, always something you and him looked forward to. but suddenly, he started canceling. it was small excuses. “he didn’t feel good” or “something came up”
it felt weird. a little suspicious. but your stress blurred everything together, and you just brushed it off as him being busy. still, it hurt a little though. you’re boyfriend was being distant, and you didn’t really understand why.
what you didn’t know was that every time he canceled, he was out getting things for you.
walking through stores longer than he ever even cared to, rereading his notes, trying to get everything exactly right. picking things up, putting them back, overthinking it, then deciding anyway.
(and yes, he used gojo’s card lol)
phase three: execution
this was the hard part, getting you to his dorm without raising suspicions. so one day, completely out of nowhere, megumi asked you to come over to his dorm. it wasn’t one of your usual “hangout” days, so you were confused, but you went anyway. he told you he needed help “unclogging his sink”.
you didn’t question it too much. you just put your hair up in a ponytail, and threw on one of his hoodies and a pair of shorts, and walked over.
but when you opened the door, you just froze.
a basket sat there filled with all your favorite things. everything you had mentioned over the past few days, carefully picked out.
your favorite movie was already playing on the tv.
megumi was sitting on the couch, looking at you, a small quiet and proud smile on his face. like he had been waiting for this.
you didn’t think. you just walked over and hugged him as tight as you can. your eyes started to well with tears as you asked him why he would do all of this, when he even had the time. he looked at you for a second like the answer was obvious.
“because i love you. and you’ve been stressed.” he paused before adding quietly,
“it’s not a big deal. dont cry.”
his voice was still firm, still very him, but something softer underlying in his tone.
you just shook your head and held onto him anyway.
you ended up curled into his side, tucking your head into his chest, the movie playing in the background while you went through the snacks he picked out just for you.
and for the first time in a long time, everything felt quiet.
the stress, the noise, all of it just faded.
and sitting there with him, you realized something.
he really was the perfect boyfriend.
authors note: EEK my first ever megumi fic! i’m new so if you have any advice or tips pls lmk! looking for moots as well :D
Zanka remained motionless, his eyes darting in every direction except yours. First, he saw your lips, glistening with that pretty gloss you loved to wear; then he saw your nose; your cheekbones; your ears and those earrings he'd given you a while ago.
'I want to kiss her,' he thought. 'If I kiss her now while she's talking, she'll think I want her to be quiet.' 'But she looks so beautiful.'
His hands remained still and firm on your waist. He hadn't even noticed his thumbs moving, gently caressing you through your uniform.
He was still sitting while you stood between his legs, drying his hair with a small towel.
"Suddenly a storm broke out," he said. "Too bad Enjin wasn't there to shield us with his umbrella." You chuckled, shaking his hair until it was dry.
"A little rain never hurt anyone, but you should still change your clothes before you catch a cold."
You set the towel aside, both of you still in the same position until he finally looked you in the eyes. He began to tell you about the mission, his hands tightening around your waist as you started to comb his hair with your fingers and play with it.
He had become so accustomed to your presence that even his hands sought some kind of contact with you.
He instinctively pulled you closer whenever he could, and when the scent of your perfume reached his nose, he felt like he was in heaven.
"I'll go change then," he whispered, finally standing up.
"You'll come back with me, right?" You asked, with puppy eyes.
"Always," he answered, planting a kiss on your lips and inwardly cursing having to leave, even for five minutes.
[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― 15 f!reader , 15!chuuya , fluff , rooftop scene , ability use , stargazing , dazai interruption , reader from the city
based on this request
you grew up in the city where the sky never really went dark. it was always tinted, orange, hazy, swallowed by streetlights and windows that never seemed to sleep. stars were something you read about in books, not something you actually saw. something drawn in diagrams or printed on classroom posters that tried to pretend the world above you was clearer than it really was.
so when you hear about real stars being visible, it sounds like something made up for people who lived somewhere else.
until chuuya drags you onto a rooftop at midnight like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
you expect smog. you expect city glow. you expect disappointment, honestly.
instead, he’s standing there already waiting, hands in his pockets, looking far too serious for someone who definitely did not explain any of this properly.
“you’re late,” he says immediately when you step out.
“you told me to meet you on a roof at midnight,” you reply. “that’s not a normal request.”
he clicks his tongue. “just look up.”
you do.
and there’s nothing.
just the usual city haze swallowing the sky whole.
you let out a small breath. “chuuya, i don’t think-”
“shut up and wait,” he mutters, stepping behind you.
then the air shifts.
not violently, just subtly, like gravity itself is being adjusted. his ability activates quietly, controlled, careful in a way he doesn’t usually bother showing the world. and then the first light appears.
a small glow.
then another.
and another.
they rise into the air around you like they’ve been pulled out of nowhere, drifting gently, weightless and soft. not real stars—he told you that immediately, but glowing points of light shaped into something close enough that your brain doesn’t know how to handle it.
you freeze.
because it looks like the sky finally came down.
“what-” you start.
“they’re not real,” chuuya says quickly, like he’s afraid you’ll misunderstand. “just light constructs. and my ability messing with gravity. don’t get weird about it.”
you turn your head slightly to look at him.
he’s not looking at you. of course he isn’t.
“…i’m not getting weird,” you say softly.
“good.”
there’s a pause.
you look back up as one of the glowing points drifts closer, hovering near your hand like it’s waiting for permission.
“…it looks real,” you whisper.
chuuya’s voice drops a little when he answers. “yeah. i figured you deserved to see it properly.”
that lands somewhere deep in your chest.
because he’s not looking at the sky anymore.
he’s looking at you.
your fingers lift slightly, and one of the lights settles into your palm, hovering there weightless and warm like it knows it belongs to you.
you let out a quiet laugh.
“this is insane.”
“you’re welcome,” he mutters.
another light drifts around your shoulder, then another, until the space around you feels like it’s been filled with a private constellation only you can touch. chuuya shifts his hand slightly and they respond, moving with him like an extension of something much gentler than he usually lets himself be.
for the first time, the sky doesn’t feel unreachable.
it feels close.
like it’s staying.
you don’t realize how quiet you’ve gone until chuuya speaks again, softer now.
“…you okay?”
you nod slowly. “i didn’t know it could look like this.”
he exhales through his nose, something almost embarrassed in the sound. “yeah, well. city lights suck.”
you glance at him. “you did this for me?”
“don’t make it a big deal,” he says immediately, but his ears are faintly pink. “it’s just easier than dragging you out of the city.”
you smile a little.
and before you can answer, another voice cuts in from the stairwell.
“awww, how romantic.”
both of you freeze.
of course.
because dazai is leaning against the doorway like he’s been waiting specifically for this exact moment.
“i step away for five minutes and you two start building a private galaxy,” he sighs dramatically. “chuuya, i didn’t know you had it in you.”
chuuya does not look amused.
“leave.”
“no, continue,” dazai says, strolling closer. “i’d like to observe the emotional atmosphere. very poetic. very-”
“dazai.”
“yes?”
“i will throw you off this roof.”
you squeeze chuuya’s hand lightly before he fully combusts.
he exhales sharply, but he doesn’t pull away from you.
the glowing stars continue drifting slowly above you, unaffected by dazai’s existence, as if they’ve collectively decided he is not part of the experience.
you tilt your head back slightly.
“i’ve never seen stars like this before,” you say quietly.
chuuya looks at you for a second.
then at the lights.
then back at you.
“…good,” he says softly. “then i did it right.”
for a moment, even dazai is quiet.
just a moment.
then, “i’m telling mori you built a romantic light show,” he says brightly.
chuuya immediately lunges.
you laugh, stepping back just enough to avoid getting dragged into whatever violence is about to happen.
and above all of it, the fake stars keep floating, soft, glowing, patient, like a sky that finally decided to come closer just so you wouldn’t have to look at it alone anymore.
boyfriend!megumi who remembers every single one of your anniversaries, no matter how ridiculous. first date, first kiss, first time you brushed hands—whatever it was, he always remembered. when you’d tease him about it, his ears would flush pink as he muttered, “shut up,” while holding out a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
boyfriend!megumi who notices every one of your hyper fixations. new favorite band? you’d find their albums and posters slipped under your door. hooked on a new game? he’d silently hand you a gift card so you can buy all the skins you want.
boyfriend!megumi who lets you steal all his hoodies. you claim you “haven’t seen them anywhere,” but they mysteriously go missing right after he gives you one. he never complains and thinks you look better in them than he ever could.
boyfriend!megumi who lets you play with his hair. the two of you would be sprawled on the couch, watching a show as you run your fingers through his messy hair. you hum softly as you do so, and he leans into your touch like it’s nothing.
boyfriend!megumi who complies when you ask him to try a new recipe you’re working on. even if he’s convinced it’s a biohazard, he taste tests without a word and gives you a nod of approval that makes you beam.
boyfriend!megumi who lets you do his skincare. he’s skeptical of the weird pink liquid you’re patting into his skin, but since you love it, he sits still and lets your work… though not without the faintest scowl crossing his face.
boyfriend!megumi who always offers his jacket. you insist your outfit is fine but megumi knows better: you’re going to be cold later. one shiver from you and he’s already shrugging his jacket off and putting it over your shoulders. “thank you,” you smile. “if you get sick, i get sick,” he shrugs, like it’s nothing. but you know megumi, and you know he cared for you in a way no one else could.
boyfriend!megumi who studies with you. even if you’re working on completely different things, he sits by your side, occasionally passing you snacks or refilling your water, silently keeping you company until you’re both too tired to keep your eyes open.
boyfriend!megumi who pretends he doesn’t care when you fall asleep on him, but he adjusts his position so you’re more comfortable and doesn’t move for hours just to avoid waking you.
boyfriend!megumi who doesn’t say “i love you” a lot, but shows it in every small action—walking on the outside of the sidewalk, remembering your order without asking, leaving space for you beside him like it’s reserved just for you.
