amnesia, arguments and..attraction? pt 1 - five hargreeves x reader
reader is gn, & five is physically 19 (as well as you)
november 22nd, 1963
the sun shined down upon the city of dallas, texas, a beautiful day for the land. the view you had of elm street almost felt surreal. your hand rested on your cheek and you lean onto the fence, taking in the peaceful scenery.
“can you pass me the gun?” a stoic aging voice interrupted your admiration of the view. 58-year-old five hargreeves was considered the best of the best at the commission. his clean, swift kills, diligence, and obedience to the commission put him on a pedestal in the organization. yet he couldn’t have done a good portion of it, without you. you two were an undefeated, dynamic duo who worked together like clogs in a machine. hell, you two even won a few awards at the annual commission awards ceremony. truth be told, you and five were close, closer than most. it was like a strange spark ignited your friendship with the man. from being close in age, to fighting together in perfect harmony, the organization was shocked you two weren’t even married.
it was pretty obvious you and five had..something going on. was it the casual brushes of hands when grabbing weapons? the more blatant stares at each other when believed the other wasn’t looking? or was it the oh-so-subtle lean in five did when you talked? the coral-tinted blush that swept over both of your faces when these little moments were nothing to brush over. but did he feel the same way? or was it unrequited love from your end?
you hand five the gun, waiting behind the fence for him to take the shot, yet he paused. he put down the sniper and grabbed some sort of journal. the journal was full of calculations beyond your comprehension. seemed like it was full of calculus, but you could make out one number, a 5.7 circled in dark blue ink.
“five what's all this? you planning on leaving me?” you joke, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “do you trust me?” he says, his green eyes meeting your own.
“of course i do, why do you ask?” you question. why would he ask such a thing? he’s been off for a few days, more in his own world than usual.
a blue, galvanic portal open in-front of the two of you. gusts of wind filled the air, almost sending the both of you backward. five’s hand outstretched to yours, motioning for you to take his hand. his viridescent eyes reeled you in, and without hesitation, you took it. the feeling of his calloused hand felt foreign, and at the same time, you never felt so at home. he led with his left foot, right foot, and you followed. the feeling of stepping through that energy source was unbearable like your cells were being ripped apart one by one and being put back together. you still had no idea what was going to happen, hell you didn’t even know where you two were going, yet you weren’t afraid.
-
april 2nd, 2019
the unidentifiable blue energy source shook the ground around the mourning hargreeves family. the electricity and wind surrounded the group.
“what is it?” viktor asked.
“don’t get too close!” allison interrupted, placing a hand on viktors' shoulder.
“yeah no SHIT.” diego quipped
“looks like some sort of temporal anomaly.” luther answered. he stood in front of his siblings, “either that or a miniature black hole. one of the two.”
“pretty big difference there paul bunyan!” diego joked as the portal's energy thundered and crackled louder.
“OUT OF THE WAY!” klaus yelled as they pushed through his siblings, carrying a fire extinguisher while they were at it. of course, klaus not knowing how to use the extinguisher, they throw it at the anomaly. “what is that gonna do?” allison questions. “I DON’T KNOW. DO YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA?” klaus replies worryingly and defeated. two figures begin to peak through the anomaly
“whoa whoa whoa everyone get behind me.” luther motions. the siblings follow through, except for diego. “yeah, get behind us.” he commands. “i vote for running, cmon!” klaus whines. electricity crackles as the figures emerge. it looks as if it’s two…teens? maybe young adults. the teens fall out of the portal, dropping 15 feet down. the thunder fades as the duo lays on the ground, groaning from the fall.
-
you push yourself up, wincing and hissing as you brush off your clothes that are..much more oversized than you can recall. you turn to your left, a boy, around the age of 19 maybe? he seems to have the same issue with oversized clothing. what confuses you the most is that you have never met this boy before, you don’t know where the hell you are, or who the hell are all these people. “does anyone else see little number five, or is that just me?” a voice says. it’s one of the group's voices. the boy looks down at his clothes, observing his oversized clothes.
“shit.”
“shit.” you both say in sync. the teen turns to you and takes a few steps forward. “who the hell are you?”
“i could ask you the same thing dick.” you retort.
“don’t give me that attitude.”
“i don’t know WHO you are but you somehow brought me here. now your ass is gonna get ME OUT,” you argue with the boy five.
“i don’t have to do shit for you. you got here all on your own." he jests. a voice interrupts, a tall, lean person pushes foward with a black fur coat and smeared eyeliner. "i dont mean to ruin this lovely little couples therapy sesh, but five..it is so good to see you." he leans in for a hug, but is pushed off by five. "klaus, i would rather shit in my own shoe and wear it than be in a relationship with this moronic asshat." he says aggresively while a smile is plastered on his pre pubescant face.
"fuck you." you jibe.
"oh? i wasn’t offering." five retorts, "watch your mouth."
"aren't you blowjob height?"
the blonde tipped hair and the spanish man with the scar stifle a laugh, trying to cover it up with a cough. "allergies, am i right diego?" the woman coughs. "oh yeah allison, i heard they are HORRIBLE this time of year." diego wheezes. they fake cough so much they ACTUALLY start coughing; horribly. you giggle with them. five storms off to the door, almost tripping on his oversized clothes. at that point, no one could contain their laughter. in fact you laugh so hard, you lose your balance and fall over. another laugh can be heard over the commotion. it’s the little dick himself.
"what an asswipe" you thought, but even you can't be mad. it was too funny.
the grand hargreeves estate was not far from being one of the most exquisite and beautiful homes you have ever visited. the dark walnut stained wood accents filled throughout the main floor of the establishment, giving the home a regal feel. “now, let’s get you two out of those things and into something..better.” the curly haired woman says. she turns to you, “my name is allison by the way.” you nod and tell allison your name. “OHH is that italian? french?” the bigger man says, telling you his name as well. “no one cares luther.” five says as he walks down the stairs toward the kitchen.
“shut your mouth.” you spit.
“or what?”
“i’ll make you.”
“aw, that’s cute.”
“bite me.”
“as much as i would love that, i’ll pass.” five nods with a shit eating grin.
“OKAY, i’ve got a couple things that might help you twos..interesting clothing situation.” the pale shorter man interjected. he drops two uniforms, seems like ones in your size. “thanks viktor.” five say. you give your thanks before grabbing the clothes and walking up the stairs. the rooms look like carbon copies of each other, and the majority of them look locked. you jiggle the handle of an unlabeled room. it unlocks and you swing the door open. the room most likely belonged to a young boy: a few race cars scattered across the floor, a rock em’ sock em’ robots poster, and an archery board. locking the door behind you, you plop the clothes onto the neat bed and begin stripping away at your large clothes.
“thanks again vik-.” a muffled boys voice piques your attention. it sounds like he’s right outside the door. the knob jiggles, but no sign of anyone coming in. you continue to throw the uniform top over your head, but a strange noise outside makes you pause. the same noise can be heard again, but this time, it sounded much closer. you pull the bottoms up quickly, but not quick enough.
“could you take any longer? i don’t have all day love.” the annoying pre mature voice rings in your ears once again. “can you.. oh i don’t know, piss OFF?” you bark, feeling slightly violated that he entered without permission. you examine the room once more, then look at five.
“this is your room, isn’t it?” you say with a defeated tone, “sorry.”
“don’t worry about it.” he responds, “just next time ask alright?” he walks with you out the door. you turn your body to reply, but the door is already shut.
“cunt.”
a/n: HELLOOO IM ALIVE and i hope u rly enjoy but i didn’t proofread IMSORYRY☹️
need to come back to this account after 2 years and say what the FUCK was that season it was dogshit. actually disappointing, completely ruined im really sad ):
— in which kento unintentionally proves how much of a husband material he is.
content warnings: fluff, smut, light angst, suggestive, making out, nanami kento being a certified hubby, fiancée!kento, weddings, mentions/implied slut-shaming, reader has horrible relatives, reader is described to be non-traditional, riding, p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, curses still exist but nobody dies (yay!) and geto is mentally fine and a teacher at jujutsu tech <33, im so in love with him, some can be considered bare minimum and subtle but idc if he does it he's the standard, kento loves it when you're checking him out, just kento being a gentleman, kento is so in love with you, you you and you in his mind, reader is just as the same btw, corny ass vow (idk how to write one srry)
wc: 5591 (holy shit lol)
note: im!! so!! head!! over!! heels!!! with!! this!! man!! (it's really not that obvious, right?) he's so dreamy he deserves a lot of kissy kisses and a ticket to malaysia <33 also!! just realized this is my first piece for 2024 tehehe happy new year, everyone! 🎀🎆
best enjoyed with: slut! - taylor swift
that time when you both went out for a picnic
the sunset paints the sky with the most vibrant colors as you and kento bask in each other's presence and sit on a picnic blanket, surrounded by the quiet sways of the green grass, accompanied by some people who decided to hang out around the vicinity.
it's one of those days that kento is blessed by once in a blue moon break from being a jujutsu sorcerer. kendo's always grateful to have this kind of day because it would mean that his hands would spend their time stealing soft touches against your skin instead of fighting curses.
a faint clink can be heard when you and kento toast your glasses together, half filled with your favorite champagne. it's a tad bit sweet to kento's liking as he is not good with sweets, but he opted to bring it to your picnic instead of his favorite whiskey because he knows you love it.
kento watches you put your lips on the champagne flute and drink your sweet alcohol with glee. he takes a small sip from his as he stares at you with admiration.
satisfied with your drink, you set it aside on your coaster as you lean your head on kento's shoulders. "such a lovely day, isn't it?" you say while you close your eyes, soaking in the remaining rays of the sunshine before it sleeps, allowing the night to take over the sky.
kento hums in approval as he puts his free hand on your head, giving it gentle and loving pats as he rests his head against yours, but not before giving you a quick peck. "we should do this more often,"
"i agree; you should ditch gojo more and spend more time with me," you joked, and you heard your fiancée chuckle, "that wouldn't be so professional of me, darling," it's your turn to let out a chuckle.
"it's gojo; being professional is already out of the window."
"you're right, maybe i should," kento jested back.
the two of you just sat in comfortable silence until a slightly strong gust of wind blew in your direction. caught by the shock of it all, you close your eyes and hold your sundress down to avoid flashing the strangers. but before you could even do it, a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.
kento had covered you, so any speck of dust blown by the wind wouldn't be able to get into your eyes. your sundress is also held down by his knees between your legs. when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by your fiancée's face close to yours, assessing you. you suddenly feel your stomach tumble and fill with butterflies.
"are you okay? didn't get anything in your eyes?" he says gently, eyes observing you with worry. you give him a slight nod, "mhm, i'm fine kento, how about you?" kento answered with a hum as he tried to fix your dress and some parts of the picnic blanket that was slightly blown away by the wind.
"i think that's the cue for us to pack up, or do you want to stay for a while?" kento asks you while he starts to pack up some of your stuff into the picnic bag. "we should stay until the sun completely sets, it's a shame to leave while the sky looks pretty."
kento nods and finishes packing before he sits beside you, looking at the view. he then makes your head lean on his shoulders once again, his hands caressing the top of your head. "yeah, i agree, the sky looks pretty." he states.
he feels you nod and continues, "but you're prettier to look at," he says as he looks down at you and to his surprise, he meets your eyes on him. "i could say the same to you, kento," you say before capturing his lips against yours.
kento smiles on your lips before reciprocating your gesture, slightly tasting the remnants of your sweet champagne earlier.
and at that moment, he thought, it doesn't matter if his tongue tasted something so sweet, as long as it's from your lips.
that time when you went christmas shopping
the mall filled with bustling crowds is not a perfect way to spend time with your fiancée. but when this is the only time your schedules align to go for a last-minute shopping to buy gifts for your loved ones, you don't really have a choice.
kento especially noticed how much you were on edge today despite being excited to buy gifts for everyone especially his mentees. you weren't the type to enjoy a busy crowd, so he knows how to elevate your stress.
store after store, he gave you every opinion he had (that you asked for) ever so gently and thoroughly but not too much to overwhelm you since you're technically a ticking time bomb now. kento was attentive at every store you went to and immediately picked out gifts you thought were best to give. he stood up in the busy and long line as he let you sit on the lounge chair present in the store.
by the time you're done shopping, he carries all the bags and refuses to give you any (even the small ones). and when you insist, he gives you an offended look, telling you he can manage.
while you're walking to leave the mall, your stares don't go unnoticed by your fiancée as he sees you mindlessly gawking at his arms that flex every time he has to fix the bags while walking.
and that makes carrying your shopping bags even more worth it to him.
that time when you got drunk at a new year's party
gojo has set a new year's party that includes everyone in jujutsu tech in one of his vacation homes in japan. it was supposed to be a reasonably small party but this is gojo satoru we're talking about; he's going to be extra about anything and everything.
the party is semi-formal and requires everyone to dress up nicely. kento does not enjoy parties, but seeing you dress up in a pretty dress that enhances your assets makes him think that attending this event has benefits too.
the party wasn't uneventful per se, but despite the semi-formal wear that everyone was rocking, the event itself was casual. the house was filled with laughter and noise, mainly from the students and everyone else sharing stories and conversing. an hour or two into the party, you and kento decided to part ways as you go on your way to interact with gojo, geto, and shoko.
kento trusted you enough to be alone with them so he opted to talk with some of his colleagues whose presence calms him (obviously not gojo). he spent his time talking with higuruma, sharing ideals and mundane stuff they both enjoyed doing. it was a calming conversation for both men, who wanted peace and tranquility.
"there's this store that sells rare vintage vinyl; i think you'll love to shop there," higuruma suggests as they talk about collecting vinyl, a hobby they share. kento was about to reply, but even before he opened his mouth, he heard a very loud—
"nanamin!" which made both men turn their heads in the direction where the sound came from.
the voice no doubt belonged to itadori, his face painted with concern as he rushed to kento's area. "what is it itadori?" he asked the young man the moment he arrived while panting.
"your wife! she's—" before itadori can even finish his sentence, kento's already sprinting to where you are, itadori following suit.
kento doesn't need to know what he needs to say; the worry on itadori's face, accompanied by your name, is enough for him to look for you.
turns out you're drunk of your mind.
when kento arrives in gojo's kitchen, it's just you and him having a very drunk and heated argument about whether cereal or milk comes first.
"no! that's so stupid, cereal should come first, think about it you stupid idiot, if you pour milk first, you'll miss the chance to fill the bowl with so much cereal!" your fiancée sees you standing on gojo's kitchen island alongside him, slurring your words as you sway the glass of wine in the air, threateningly spilling as you keep on moving.
gojo scoffs at your argument, "maybe t'was the point! it's all about ratio, how else can you enjoy cereal when there's too much cereal and little room for milk!" he barks back, holding a—
is that a massive cup of sunrise tequila? no wonder he got so drunk, kento thought as he sighed.
"there's no such thing as ratio for you, gojo! you're the same person who adds too much pineapple on pizza that it becomes disgusting!" you shouted at gojo's face as you continuously pointed at his chest with your index finger.
across the kitchen island stood geto and shoko with unamused faces, looking like they were just waiting for everything to die down on its own. kento sighs and asks them, "did they have an alcohol-drinking battle again?" and all they reply is a solid nod.
"gojo got too competitive and drank that sweet poison, which led to this... argument," shoko adds, looking at both you and gojo incredulously. "they immediately started gulping down the alcoholic drinks right after midnight," geto said, a chuckle threatening to leave his lips.
"please help me break them up," your fiancée kindly pleads to geto and shoko. they immediately showed empathy to their former junior and decided to hold gojo back together while kento held onto you.
it took almost half an hour to break you and gojo apart, not to mention the commotion and your silly drunk discussions that blew out of proportion because the both of you are just so passionate and no one would back down without a fight. after successfully separating the two of you, kento immediately guided you away from the party and to your car, not without leaving shy goodbyes to the people he would face along the way.
the drive back home was thankfully not chaotic, but it was definitely filled with your drunken chatter as you slur words kento can barely make out.
getting you to your shared home was relatively easy; you were patient enough to let kento walk you off to the front door and remove your heels before gently placing you on the couch.
he was about to let go and grab some water until you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to your face; kento felt his heart race. "hey there," you whispered against his lips, distance threateningly close.
kento could smell the alcohol on your breath, probably a mixture of beer, wine, and then some. still, he couldn't bring himself to care when he knew your lips would probably taste slightly sweet. "have you ever been this handsome, kento?" you ask, your voice dripping honey despite being out of your mind, trapped in your own drunken bubble.
"maybe that's just the alcohol's doing, darling," he jokes.
"no no, i think i already saw this face years ago."
"really?"
"really. you look even more handsome now, you should give me a kiss," you say as you pucker your lips, slowly leaning towards his.
kento couldn't even say no even if he didn't want to (not that he will ever not want to kiss you). he decides to give you a swift peck just to entertain your shenanigans, but when he is about to let go, you deepen your kiss, tightening your wrap on his neck, forcing him to lean forward and straddle you with one of his thighs digging on the couch.
he can taste the red wine you had recently drunk, and he's confident he can get drunk with your lips alone. kento's mind went hazy as he moved against your lips languidly, letting himself drown in your kiss. he wanted this to last longer, even take it further, but alas, kento has always been a man of self-control, so he lets go of you, not before giving you one last kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen.
the whole night, kento tends to your every need that you couldn't do. he had prepared you a warm bath, removed your makeup, and did your skincare for you that he knows at the back of his hand. he had lathered you up with your favorite lotion, dried your hair (not without a fight since your drunk self found the hair dryer too loud), and kissed you good night before tucking you to bed, leaving a pack of aspirin and a water bottle on your nightstand before sleeping.
the morning after, you woke up to the smell of your favorite soup and your fiancée insisting on feeding you even though you told him you could manage.
you make sure to pay him back really well that same day.
that time when you attended a family reunion
it's always this dreaded day you always wanted to avoid but couldn't.
you would rather stay home with kento rather than attend a gathering that will just piss you off, but your mom had pleaded with you to come— "so that they won't gossip about you," she said.
you know that's a lie; whether or not you attend, they'll always find a way to talk about you anyway; there's no winning. but since you wouldn't want to let your mother down, you suck it up and prepare for it regardless.
what makes you nervous is that this is the first time Kento has come along— or more like you let him come along.
you had heard complaints from your relatives about not meeting kento when he was still your boyfriend, and now that you're engaged, you should've at least let them meet him. you begrudgingly agreed, but it doesn't mean you're not nervous.
your relatives have been annoying throughout your life, always meddling with things they shouldn't even care about.
it always started with asking about your weight change, school activities, grades, chosen course, and relationships, not to mention the ever-so "you should do better" undertone in all aspects of your life. and for some reason, always making you feel small is included in their mandatory list to piss you off.
you know that once you let them meet your now fiancée, they would bombard him with questions and annoy you and him for the rest of the day. you only keep up with the tradition because your mother is too kind to tell them off, laughing awkwardly when they berate you and always giving you a silent apology through her eyes.
it wasn't her fault; you just wish she'd shut them off.
kento had noticed your change of behavior ever since this morning while preparing in your home. you had been silent and spacing out, only replying when he had finally snapped you out of your daze. he doesn't know what the deal was with your relatives, but all he knows is that your mood drastically changes whenever they're involved in the conversation, and that's enough for him to tell you that they're not really good news.
"are you sure you want to go, honey? we can always drive back home," kento said with worry, cutting through the thick tension in the car. "it's fine; I can handle it; we're almost there anyway. it would be a waste if we turn around," you tell him with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.
Kento replied with a small smile, taking your hand to his face and kissing your knuckles, "just know that i'll always be there, alright?"
you nod, feeling slightly relieved, before looking out the window to drink in the scenery as you pass by.
it turns out you can't handle it.
you thought your relatives would be a little tamer because you have someone over, but you were totally wrong.
ever since you both arrived, your aunties had surrounded kento and bombarded him with questions. from his age, degree, university he graduated from, where you met, wedding date, monthly income (which is incredibly embarrassing), to how many children he plans to have.
most of it wasn't a problem, but your blood boiled the moment they asked about what he saw from you.
this would've been such a sentimental moment if it weren't for your auntie's sarcastic tone, as if the question was meant to belittle you, to make you feel like you're not worthy of him.
when kento was about to open his mouth just to pour out how much he loves you and how he's lucky to have you, one of your aunties butt in with their loud mouth.
"well, she isn't really a traditional partner isn't she?" she said, a smug smile forming on her ugly and wrinkly face. "yeah, i mean, i assume with a fine man like you wouldn't be attracted to someone like her," another one added.
kento clenches his fists as he felt fury fire inside of him. how dare they think about you like this and talk about you like this, like you weren't just in front of him, seething in pain and anger.
he was about to give a proper and calm response when your uncle had spoken, "besides, she dresses like a... you know," then an ugly cackle. "a what?" your auntie had joined, taunting him to say the word.
"oh, you know, like a sl-"
that was the final nail in the coffin. his words are cut off when kento angrily smashes both palms on the table, seemingly angry, forming an angry red aura you have never seen. "i've had enough," he started, while all eyes are on him, including yours.
"i will not allow any single one of you to disrespect my wife any longer. i will not tolerate your old and immature ways of talking about her. i've been patient enough, but this bullshit is something I will not allow," kento's vulgar choice of words has made everyone's eyes at the table grow wide, shocked.
"i would say this respectfully, but you guys weren't to my wife either, so please, i'll say this once," he inhales, trying to calm himself down.
"fuck off," kento declares before taking your hand and exiting the venue.
during the walk to the car, he had been slowly calming himself down. once you reach it, kento holds your face gently, "i'm sorry for the outburst there; i just couldn't stand them disrespecting you any longer, so I had to." he says before putting a gentle yet quite long kiss on your forehead.
once he lets go, he sees your face. your eyes had been filled with tears, and it broke his heart. "that's fine, i've been wanting to tell them to fuck off for years anyway. if anything, i should thank you," a smile spread through kento's face before opening the car door to let you in.
once the both of you are finally settled in your seat, you ask, "by the way, I just noticed you called me your wife; what was that all about?" you ask him out of curiosity. he knows you're happy about that based on how happy your voice sounded when you asked him.
"i'm just so sure you'll end up with that title anyway, unless you're having cold feet?"
"oh god, no! i'm just touched, 's all," you shrugged as you settled in your seat, a smile stretched across your face.
kento chuckles and leans forward to kiss your cheek before starting the engine and driving off.
your mom visited you and kento later that week, saying she was happy she was finally not invited to the next reunion. she then made you your favorite dishes as an apology for that day.
you don't mind what gossip they would come up with next, not when you have the kind of man kento is.
their little toxic gossip train had nothing compared to the love that kento gives you every single day anyway.
that time when you asked him to be rough
the night is still young and cold but kento does know how to make it hot.
his hands fumble the plush ass as you keep on taking his cock, sloppily riding him as you let your hips and thighs do the work. your cunt meticulously takes all of him, molding your walls just like it was made for him. "hah, faster darling, please," kento pleads, voice broken and desperate for release.
his calloused hands caress your body gently like you are someone sacred, a figure that shouldn't be harshly touched or you'll be condemned, the same hands that used to exorcise and kill curses without a single thought. and yet with you, he carefully carries them lightly, holding onto your waist, not too tight enough to leave you in pain.
you feel your stomach tie into a knot, slowly feeling yourself come to a climax, "shit, kento, you're so big, mngh, make me feel so full," you say through gritted teeth, further speeding up your pace. the sound of your thighs slamming against his echoes through your bedroom, accompanied by your ragged breaths and kento's broken moans of pleasure.
your fiancée's hands then find their place back on your ass, squeezing it tight, but not too much, guiding you to bounce on his cock more as he feels himself closer. "s'good for me, yeah? taking me like a good girl?" kento looks at your eyes lovingly, his brown orbs touching your soul. you nod, not finding the words to say, mind too hazy to answer as you keep on taking his dick, taking him in like you always do.
"yes, oh god, yes, kento— please, inside— me," were the only words you managed to let out as your movements kept on getting sloppier and sloppier each moment passed by. he knew what it meant, and who he to deny such a polite request?
kento let himself release inside of you with a groan, making sure every drop of his cum is given to you.
your pants envelope the room as you both try and catch your breaths— then a beat of silence.
you take kento's face in the palm of your hands and caress his cheek, "you know, i sometimes wish you could be rough," you say as you observe his sexed stupor, "i occasionally get rough on you, don't i?" he asks, eyebrows raised with confusion.
"no, like i mean, rough rough," you emphasize, "you're always so gentle. you don't think i can handle you?" faux sadness evident in your voice, one that your fiancée can never say no to, not when you're asking this nicely. "oh darling, i'm sorry, i will do it next time," he coos, fixing the loose strands on your hair by tucking them behind your ear.
"we can do it now?" you suggest, making the corner of kento's lips perk up, "oh? you sure you can handle it?"
"i know i can handle it," you say as your voice rang with confidence.
you knew kento had it in him to be rough, but good god, you never expected him to be this good.
he had given you a more than good fucking, which leads you drooling on your sheets, with your back arched, ass up, and your hands held behind by kento as he drills his cock into your sopping cunt. his hands left prints on your ass and thighs, which left a delicious burn on your skin. "want to take my babies, don't you?" kento says as his hips meet your asscheeks.
"mnghh, yes, daddy! full— 'f your babies!" that was enough for him to unload himself inside of you, burying himself deeper to make sure you'll take all of it before he pulls out.
you were about to sit up, panting, when you felt kento's large hands wrap around your neck from behind, squeezing it while the other was pulling your hair.
"who said i was done with you, pretty?" the deep timbre of his voice went straight to your pussy.
this side of your fiancée is undoubtedly a pleasant surprise.
the following day, though, you were treated again like a queen, a bath ready for you by the time you woke up, surrounded with fresh flower petals that he had taken the time to buy from your nearest flower shop, and your favorite candle burning alongside your bath products. kento also insisted on giving you a full body massage to ease any tension and muscle ache.
you asked for it anyway, but you also don't mind this kind of treatment from him every now and then.
that time when you had a cold
you woke up feeling like absolute shit.
you don't know when or why it happened; it just did.
your head was throbbing the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at the sun rays that peeked through your windows. your body felt heavier than usual, and your shoulders felt sore. kento had taken notice of this as soon as he woke up, tending to your every need.
it pains your fiancée to see you in such a state, voice hoarse, your sniffles meet with a crumpled-up tissue near your nightstand, a mucus-filled cough every now and then, and an occasional "my throat hurts" whenever you speak. you had begged him to bring you some slightly cold water along with your food because lukewarm water doesn't hit just the same. but being the ever-responsible adult that kento is, he says no, leaving you sulking as you begrudgingly eat your food with a frown.
taking your medicine, though, is a different kind of task.
you stall every single time, finding it hard (or hating) to swallow the pills. even more so if he gave you water with a dissolved effervescent tablet, claiming it's too gross to drink, even if it doesn't really have any flavor. whenever you're sick, this is always the obstacle he has to face.
"please give me some juice or candy kento; it'll help when i drink the medicine," you begged, adding a touch of cooing pleases to make him say yes.
"i think the sweets you ate are what led you this way, darling," he says, which practically means no.
a pattern he noticed is that whenever you eat too much salt or sweets without drinking the right amount of water, it always leads to you getting this sick. "it'll just be a little sip, please? baby?" you had finally hit a new low, busting out the occasional nickname when you need something from him.
"you're a big girl, honey; you can drink this. here, i'll cover your nose for you," at this point, you just let him do it; there's no way you'll be able to convince him. you reluctantly nod and decide to drink the medicine instead.
kento pinched the sides of your nose together, effectively covering the smell, or lack thereof (he doesn't even know why he covers your nose, he just knows you'll take it if you don't smell anything). your face scrunched as your tastebuds are met with an unfamiliar and unwelcome taste, but you drink it anyway, your throat desperately chugging it so you can be done with it right away.
once you felt that you had finally consumed all of the medicine, you immediately let go of kento's hold on your nose, quickly reaching out to the glass of lukewarm water on your nightstand. after you drink enough to allow the aftertaste of the medicine to go, you place it back and let yourself lie in bed.
"i'll prepare you dinner, and i'll be back, alright?" kento takes away your glasses and places them on the tray he had brought them with. he was about to leave the room when he felt you tugging on his shirt "hm? do you need something?"
you shake your head, "no, just... thank you,"
a small smile spread on his face, your fiancée takes his free hand on your head and gently ruffles your hair, "this is nothing to thank about darling, i'm just doing my job," he bends down and gingerly places a long kiss on your forehead, "i love you, get some rest."
you nod, but not before giving him a small smile back.
that night after you had eaten your dinner and drank your medicine (albeit hesitantly), you spent the night with kento caging you in his firm, warm arms.
you feel yourself get better by then.
that time when you got married
when you walked down the aisle, kento looked at you like you had hung the stars for him. his eyes sparkle as he sees you wearing the gown you've been working on for months; even kento himself can't believe he's seeing an angel.
is this what heaven is? is this a dream? are you even real? how lucky is he to be with someone like you?
kento always believed you're out of his league, someone out of reach, and like the stars from the sky, the only way to capture your beauty is through his eyes. but he couldn't believe that the universe was on his side, fate working its way to make him yours, and he happily obliged.
cupid had shot him through the heart, and you stole it, and he can't even be mad at it. he'd happily give you all of him at the snap of your fingers. let himself be bare to you; let himself mesh with you. your soul, senses, beliefs, and love clouded onto him.
he consumes every single aspect of you within him, lovers stitched together by fate that no one can even cut.
kento sees himself becoming one with you, so he will never regret the time he got on his knees to present you with the prettiest ring he could ever find, but nothing can compare to the beauty you carry, not even this ring.
when you accept him with a delighted "yes," kento swears he's the luckiest man alive ever, blessed by your whole being.
so when you finally reach his side, everyone becomes a blur, his eyes focused on you the whole time, soaking in your beauty; he can't believe this is the face he's going to see every morning for the rest of his life.
"hey handsome, you look great," you say, holding kento's hand. "i could say the same to you, pretty," he replies, and he had to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.
and comes with the exchange of vows; kento feels slightly nervous but proud because he gets to declare his love for you in front of the people you both cherish most.
he clears his throat before opening up the letter in his hands and looks at you with such love and contentment.
"to the person who helped me see love in your form,
you've always painted colors on my blank canvas, and i cannot thank you enough. you shed light when i'm in my darkest days, have been with me through my stormy nights, and share my gloomy days.
you have been the compass to my lost soul, guiding me to the presence i know as love. you give harmony to my life as your laughter always brings music to my ears; your voice reminds me that you're here with me. you had composed the greatest symphony that sang its way to my heart, making me bare my soul, something that i will never regret," kento pauses, his voice croaked, words stuck in his throat as he tries to stop his tears from spilling. he fails to hear the audience coo in awe, focusing on you.
he continues, "loving you became my eternal pursuit, my garden whose roots are planted deeper than the sea where my endearment continues to blossom.
every step with you feels like a dance, one that i will not get tired of swaying my heart with. your hands had made a map of my body and soul, imprinted the images of love one couldn't see, and only i could feel.
and the only time i get to call something home, i stare into the deep abyss of your eyes and see myself tangled with you.
with you, i am willing to get even our souls intertwined, dancing through life as we face the uncertainty together, with love ink deep within my veins.
to my anchor, my only solace, the only anthem my heart will forever sing,
i hope the warmth of your arms will forever embrace me, even after death." the attempt to keep his tears falling fails, so does the audience, and so did you.
your eyes filled with tears, but one that's full of love. your heart feels so full that it's threatening to spill out of you. you love kento so much that it hurts; it aches to the core that someone could ever love you this much.
and you're forever thankful.
that day, your promises to each other are officially sealed with a kiss so intense and wedding bands that even evil couldn't break, that no trespassers shall get into and rip your bond away.
when kento's lips met yours, it was soft, it was warm, it was sweet, it was comforting.
finally, your husband thinks.
that day sealed the chapter to your newfound forever.
another note: i'm not so proud of the vows i made but i hope it captured kento enough lol srry 😭
"Malaysia... That's right, Malaysia. I should go to Kuantan. I'll build a house on an empty beach. The books I have bought but never read has piled up like a mountain. I want to read them slowly, as if I'm retrieving the lost time."
summary: you ignore satoru after being convinced he’d never return your feelings, what happens when he does?
pairing: teen!satoru gojo x fem!reader
genre: fluff (angst if you’re sensitive??)
word count: around 3.5k
warnings: swearing (i think-), there's like one kiss as well
notes: wtf is this, not proofread so there's bound to be mistakes. shoko kept autocorrecting to shook while suguru kept autocorrecting to sugar
"suguruuuu! she's still avoiding me!" the white-headed boy complained as he dropped onto the bed next to his best friend.
"you mean (y/n)?" suguru asked without sparing him a glance, eyes glued to his phone as he payed no mind to his friend as he carried on scrolling.
"obviously, who else?! i haven't had a proper conversation with her in ages and it's starting to piss me off!" satoru crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows in frustration which suguru rolled his eyes at.
"stop overreacting, it's only been a couple of days. i'm sure she just needs more time" he said which was true.
“it feels like it’s been months - years even!” the six-eyes user continued to whine while suguru’s eyes twitched out of annoyance, he was close to kicking him out his room.
it was true that this behaviour had been going on for the past few days, satoru would come barging into suguru’s room uninvited and complain about the same thing every single time. you. suguru wasn’t sure how many more days he would be able to last.
“well think about it, are you sure you haven’t done anything for her to start acting like this out of nowhere?” suguru tried to get satoru to stop complaining and maybe think about the situation for once.
satoru’s protests died down a bit upon hearing his friend’s words. he sat up straight and placed a hand on his chin as his face scrunched up in thought.
"i don’t think so..." he mumbled. he shut his eyes and tried to jog his memory back to your past interactions incase he had made a mistake anywhere.
———
"hey (y/n)! wanna grab something to eat after class? this new bakery opened and we just have to try it!" satoru came up next to you, disabling his infinity and slinging his arm round your shoulder like he usually does.
for some reason however, he felt you tense up.
"um... i don't actually have any money with me. sorry." you uttered out not looking at him but instead trying to get out his grasp.
satoru found this odd, normally you’d be just as excited as him to visit new stores, on top of that you always forced him to pay regardless. so why were you acting so strange?
"that's fine i'll pay!" he reassured keeping up his joyous aura, perhaps you were feeling sad and needed cheering up.
"oh uh... actually i have to go and clean my dorm, it’s kinda messy." you said and this time before he could respond you freed yourself from his grasp and rushed out the classroom towards your dorm leaving a confused satoru behind.
he stood still staring longingly at the door where you had exited ignoring the snickers that rose from shoko and suguru. were you okay? he could obviously tell you were lying, but maybe you had your reasons?
'she's probably just tired.'
is what he told himself, but he still couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong.
———
satoru wandered round the campus looking for you, it was yesterday when you oddly avoided him but today was now saturday. there was formally no class on saturdays but you guys were still set missions.
he soon stumbled upon an empty classroom and found you sitting there alone doing nothing in particular. unconsciously, he smiled to himself as he entered the room.
"(y/n)! i got assigned a mission but i don’t have anyone to go with, wanna come?” he asked. in reality, it was supposed a solo mission but his automatic response was to immediately come find you. the two of you were both well aware that he most likely didn’t need your help, truth be told he just wanted to spend more time with you.
you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat and played with your fingers as your eyes looked left and right, trying to avoid eye contact with him.
"i don't know i’m not feeling well... maybe next time gojo."
the male visibly froze at your words. gojo? what was with the last name? what the hell happened to calling him satoru and ‘toru and all those other silly nicknames?
was this some sort of prank? were you just joking about like you’d usually do? at least that’s what he hoped was the case.
he never got the chance to ask as you scurried off leaving him wondering again, were you okay?
———
satoru had ran back home as fast as he could after realising he had forgotten his lunch. he was planning on stealing from his three friends but suguru immediately shut off the idea forcing him to leave to fetch his lunch.
he returned at record speed and dramatically entered the classroom where you, suguru and shoko were already eating.
usually you’d sit next to him with shoko opposite you and suguru opposite him, but ever since friday you had swapped seats with shoko so you were next to him or opposite.
of course he noticed this but felt too embarrassed to say anything about it, the avoidance was still evident and he didn’t want to pressure you.
but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel annoyed
especially in this moment when he came in to see you laughing along with the other two, more so at suguru as you held onto his shoulder leaning into him trying to stabilise yourself from the amount of laughter.
the sight was an eyesore for him.
it wasn’t the fact that you were touching suguru so casually that annoyed him, no, you were all good friends and suguru knew of satoru’s crush on you.
the problem was the fact that he had not once seen you that comfortable with him ever since a few days ago. you never laughed him with like that nor even gave him a mere high-five. heck, you wouldn’t even look him in the eye anymore
an ugly feeling brewed inside his chest as he looked at sight, it was the first time he had felt something so - so horrid. never would he have thought he would ever actually feel jealous.
and he knew it was wrong. suguru was his best friend and he trusted him enough to know he didn’t have any intentions. but that didn’t help the feeling feel any less worse.
his dramatic entrance clearly wasn’t dramatic enough as none of you noticed his arrival, he quietly went to take his seat next to shoko and placed his lunch down on the table not uttering a word.
the laughter from the three of you died down upon satoru’s arrival. suguru and shoko quickly picked up on his behavior and asked him if he was alright knowing he was the type to be loud and make a scene.
you kept quiet but looked at him silently, painfully wishing you could say something. you cared about him, a little too much than you wanted but it hurt seeing him like this. he held his head low not saying anything at first until he looked up, straight at you.
his eyes met yours and you could’ve sworn you shivered. his eyes were always something that you weak, his sunglasses lay low of on the bridge of his nose revealing those endless cerulean eyes.
you quickly averted your to avoid his gaze, any longer looking his eyes and you were sure you would’ve melted right there. it wasn’t fair that he could make you feel so vulnerable with just a simple look.
sighing slightly you got up from your chair and picked up your lunchbox, you were more or less done anyway and didn’t want to sit around any longer. you definitely did not want satoru figuring out anything either.
but just as you were about to leave and head back to your dorm, your felt a hand grasp onto your wrist stopping you from leaving, you dreaded to look back as instead you looked down on the ground.
“are you okay (y/n)?” satoru asked his soft gaze on you, his voice barely above a whisper.
you looked up and past him at suguru and shoko giving them a distressed look in case they would come and help you but they both simply ignored you which you know they did on purpose.
satoru was still waiting for your response, he saw your eyes shift over back to the table but kept his eyes on you. you were forced to look back at him.
“i’m… fine goj-”
“gojo? what, are we on last name basis now (y/n)?” he cut you off before he could hear you finish off his last name. he hated it. if you acting distant wasn’t enough to show the distance between the two of you, calling him by his last name definitely was.
you probably called suguru by his first name.
feeling the grip on his hand suddenly tighten around your wrist made you wince slightly, but you shook him off and walked away.
“just leave me alone…”
———
satoru let out a sigh. none of it made sense, he was sure he hadn't done anything to trigger this behaviour, nothing that he could remember at least. it must of been someone else's doing...
he slowly turned his head towards his friend who seemed to be enjoying the silence now satoru had shut up.
would he..?
he was sure he wouldn’t, suguru wasn’t that type of person. but still he had to check.
"hey suguru..." the black haired boy noticed satoru from the corner of his eyes, he raised a brow and let out a small ‘hm’ to indicate that he was listening.
"did you maybe... tell (y/n) anything?" satoru asked quietly and they both kept quiet before suguru couldn’t help but laugh which satoru started to visibly panic.
"what, about what your massive crush on her? i wouldn’t be surprised if she already knew." he replied which only made the white-haired boy freak out even more.
"h-huh? but how?” satoru asked still in disbelief.
“are you serious? you’re so fucking obvious it hurts.” suguru said as he started laughing to himself.
to say satoru was at lost for words would be an understatement. realisation washed over him as he figured that probably why you were avoiding him.
"then, i have to go see her." he stated with his newfound confidence.
suguru immediately stopped laughing after hearing this and sat up as well. he faced satoru properly before speaking.
"satoru, i was only joki-"
"I need to go see her." he said standing up and off suguru's bed.
suguru frowned at this, you had told him and shoko the real reason for avoiding satoru and they agreed to keep quiet. but neither of them thought you were taking the right approach.
suguru wasn't sure why you didn't want to admit your feelings to satoru but he wanted to respect your decision regardless. of course, even though he was tempted to, he never told you that satoru returned your feelings. he was a loyal friend.
but him coming over to your dorm and forcing his feelings upon you? it was bound to go wrong somewhere, suguru could feel it, this was satoru we were talking about here. so he opened his mouth ready to stop him but closed it once he realised...
satoru had left.
~~~
"cmon (y/n), why won't you just tell him already?" shoko was in your dorm sat next to you on the floor for the nth time this week ushering you. at this point you were sick of hearing the same thing over and over again.
"shut up. it's not as easy you think..." you replied crossing your and looking down at the floorboards.
"but he likes you and you like him! why can't you two just be fucking normal for once and get together?" she groaned.
"he doesn't like me, stop making stuff up!" you shot back, you hated when she'd try and give you false hope.
she looked at you dumbfounded.
"please tell me your joking. that dork is always looking at you during class with the most lovestruck look ever, he always buys stuff for you, he always takes you out, every time you're gone on a mission that he can't tag along he looks so worried as if he's about to wet his pants-"
"he's just being a nice friend! if i start thinking about in that way then it'll be humiliating for me..." you said.
"a nice friend!? when do you see him doing all those things for me and suguru huh? just admit it (y/n) he's in love with you!"
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
you both slowly turn your heads towards the door of your dorm where the sound came from and heard a familiar voice from the other side.
"hey (y/n), you in there?" the voice called and you froze.
"shit it's him!" you panicked as shoko merely smirked.
"come on (y/n)! you can't avoid him forever. i'll go get the door" she said getting up and walking towards it.
"no!" you whisper-shouted but she made no hesitations in her movement.
you jumped onto your bed so you weren't within sight of satoru when the door opened as shoko made her way to go and open it.
"(y/n)- oh shoko what are you doing here?" gojo said trying to mask the look of disappointment on his face.
"hey satoru! me and (y/n) were just talking about you." she said grinning widely confusing satoru.
"ok... well, is she still here? i kinda wanted to speak to her." he said rubbing the back of his neck.
shoko turned around to be face you, you formed your arms in an 'x' position and shook your head vigorously indicating that she should say no.
it was either she must've misunderstood or she ignored it (probably the latter). either way she turned around to satoru and said:
"yep she's still here!"
you were definitely going to kill shoko later.
———
the silence in the room was deafening.
shoko had left leaving just the two of you there alone together. you sat on your bed as satoru sat on the floor.
this was most likely the awkwardest interaction you had had with him. even when the two of you first met as first years last year it wasn't awkward. you two hit off straight away and had been best friends ever since.
was it your fault for wanting something more?
you tried to look anywhere but at him, which was hard when he was staring at you intently with his sharp blue eyes.
when one time your eyes happened to lock with his, you gulped nervously as you both stared at each other, no words being said.
you noticed the look on satoru's face had changed, turning into one of worry and guilt. the sight of this made you frown but you were still too scared to say anything.
is he mad at me?
of course he's mad at you, he has every right to be. you've been giving him the cold shoulder for the last few days with no explanation of course he's mad-
"(y/n), did I do something wrong?" his voice cracked a little at the end breaking you out of your train of thoughts.
it pained you greatly to see him so fragile. this was satoru gojo we were talking about. one of the, if not the strongest sorcerers around. the power to probably destroy the school if he wanted.
yet there he was, sitting cross-legged in front of you and on the verge of tears. the sight almost made you too tear up, you had never felt so guilty before.
"no! you haven't done anything..." you quickly said looking at him before looking away once again.
"then why? why won't you look at me? why won't you talk to me? why are you avoiding me?" he said raising his voice a little but it still had a weak undertone to it.
you didn't know how to respond. you most definitely weren't going to explain the truth and spill your unrequited feelings for him just for this whole situation to get worse.
instead you hung your head low and fiddled with your fingers nervously. struggling to find any words at all. it was pathetic really.
but then, out of nowhere, your crush came straight up to you and clasped your hands in his.
you looked up at him at loss for words and mouth agape. he was looking back at you, his azure eyes showing signs of hurt, desperation and... love?
"please (y/n)," he started "you mean so much to me, i can't just let this- us, go." he pleaded looking you straight in the eye, not backing down for a second.
"i- uh i-" you stammered as your face flushed with embarrassment. you never thought he would care so much, that was until he next statement came.
"i like you (y/n). i mean it, i really do. i know you might've figured it out already but i just wanted to say tell you myself." he said going over your hands with his thumb, a soft smile on his face as he caressed them.
the way he called your name, the way he looked at you, the small blush on his face that was hard to miss. all these small details you suddenly started noticing you got you thinking the thing you wouldn't dare to hope.
he likes me back..?
you were so shocked that you didn't realise that you hadn't given him a response yet. satoru took this silence as a bad sign and let go of your hands, backing up a bit. his face morphing into one of regret.
'of course she doesn't feel the same, she's been ignoring me this whole time.'
"look, just forget i said anything." he let out a sigh "sorry what was I thinking-"
"i like you too, satoru." you cut him off giving him a smile. the one thing he longed for that he hadn't received from you in a long time.
a smile also tugged at his lips when his name left your lips and fell upon his ears, another thing he had longed for.
he quickly embraced you in a tight hug pushing you onto your back as you both lay on top of your bed, his head hidden in the crook of your neck.
the two of you stayed there holding each other for a while, taking in each other's presence. both silently glad that things weren't just back to normal, they were better.
he suddenly broke the hug for a second, pulled away and just simply looked at your face. you watched to see his eyes slowly wander down to your lips and then back up to your eyes, leaning in closer ever so slightly so that the two of you were face to face. he gave you a loving look as he place his palm on your cheek.
"can i...?" he murmured bringing his head closer so your noses were practically touching, you could feel his warm breath on your lips as he asked the question.
smiling nervously, you gave him a small nod. after receiving permission then wasted no time capturing your lips in a kiss.
both of your eyes flutter shut as his lips moved slowly against yours, his hands trailed to hold your waist as you put your own arms around his neck.
he pressed slightly harder into you as the kiss goes deeper, it was as if all the pent up desperation and seclusion from the past few days was all being poured out.
he kissed you with emotion, to show you that he really meant it.
and you felt like he meant it as well.
after a while when you had both ran out of breath, you pulled apart, you panted slightly as he let out a few shaky breaths but you both continued to stare deep into each other's eyes. as if being lost in each other's gaze was all you ever wanted to do.
he gave you a stupid grin before hugging you once more.
"i love you, (y/n)" he said in gentle voice slightly gripping harder onto your back as if he was afraid to let you go.
you hugged him back just as tight smiling to yourself. you never would've thought things to end up this way...
▸ I'LL MEET YOU FOREVER IN THIS MEMORY. - GOJO SATORU. forbes30!gojo
synopsis: he'll argue it's fate — a divine moment — that he's always in your proximity, and you call it bullshit. he says his class was in the same building, panting with a sweat pebbling on his forehead, yet you've seen him run across campus just couple minutes prior as he awkwardly stood in front of you. he's a man on a mission, determined to succeed. to have you finally fall for him.
content: wc: 6.6 k (sigh), fluff, light cursing, uses of she/her to align with the original au but the fic can be read without it. reader lovingly calls him stupid for one part and is shorter than him because the man is canonically tall af. petnames (babe, sweetheart, angel). slight nsfw towards the end, Gojo calls himself daddy in one scene just for jokes. college forbes30!gojo !!
There was nothing but the sound of chalk hitting the board, the frustrated sighs of students trying to keep up, and the monotonous tone of Takashi sensei talking that filled the lecture hall.
Students hastily typed on their electronics, while others chose to go old-fashioned with simple pen and paper.
But for Gojo Satoru, none of that mattered, really.
11:47.
Impatiently shaking his legs, his body just barely fitting in the cramped seat, uncaring if the attendant in front of him sent multiple glares for his crude manner of bumping his knees against the back — why the hell were these spaces always so damn cramped?
Satoru released another long sigh as he clicked open his phone to check the time, again.
Infuriatingly, it was still fucking 11:47.
It'll take me about six minutes to get to the quad, and another five to make it to the east building...
“Dammit,” Satoru cursed, his supposed whisper radiating a bit too loudly throughout the silent hall as he slumped further into his seat groaning as his impatience imbued his mind with thoughts.
One more minute and it’ll be just enough time to make it over —
“Gojo-kun,” releasing an annoyed sigh, “would you mind sharing with the class what could’ve gotten you so possibly worked up today?” his professor questioned without even turning his back to look at who just so rudely interrupted his class — again.
What excuse should I make today? Maybe I can leave now and act as if —
“Gojo-kun?” The professor's voice laced with irritation as he put the chalk down, the click of the powder hitting the rail echoed throughout the auditorium — no one dared to speak a word — not especially when the semester was so close to ending.
“Can you answer this question because you seem to be awfully more interested in something else rather than studying for your exam tomorrow?”
maybe I can ask her to study for finals? Oh, that’s good… I can show how studious and dependable I am, and then maybe she’ll fall for me. Goddamn call me a genius! But wait — fuck, I can’t use that because —
“Satoru, uh… sensei's coming,” Gojo felt a nudge on his side, his colleague nervously squirming in his seat, whispering to get his attention but yet it went unacknowledged — far over Satoru’s head — surely, the man currently had other priorities than to be rotting in business calculus.
Business calculus… the bane of his existence, his utter torture of attending every session, a complete fifty minutes wasted three times a week just for him to sit there and ponder about something else — most of the time, it was him getting antsy to get to you.
It was much to everyone’s surprise that he even went to all his lectures — the one student no one ever expects to have perfect attendance for a class he gives two shits about — well, he does give a shit because it’s all for his plan.
….
“So tell me why you’re trying to take this class?” His best friend glanced over Satoru’s shoulder.
“Don’t bother me, I can’t multi-task,” Gojo murmured, ignoring his raven hair friend as he lightly bit his lips, furiously typing up his course number into the system, his back hunched as he anxiously stared at his loading computer screen, “never thought getting a class would be so stressful," Satoru groaned.
“Why are you so stressed, it’s unlike you,” Geto’s voice was serene, “and what other dumb shit are you up to?” he chuckled while taking a sip of his coffee.
“It’s not dumb,” Satoru shot back.
“You tested out of calculus, Satoru.”
“So what?” he grumbled — just a couple seconds more…
Geto didn’t quite understand why Gojo had to go to such lengths, completely acting out of his character as he pitifully waited for his screen to load.
He’d never seen his friend so riled up about something so simple. The last time Satoru got like this was a couple of years back when a small pastry shop he searched online closed an hour before they got there. His defeat and whines were understandable since the trip took three hours by train.
But this… yea, Suguru couldn’t quite put a finger on it… well not until a very minor dialogue he had with a certain someone, such small talk that even he forgot that it occurred a semester prior.
“Are you by chance doing this because —”
Cutting him off, “fuck…” was all Suguru heard as his best friend rested his forehead on his arm, body slumping from the adrenal fatigue.
In bold, a message read:
Congrats! You have successfully registered for all your classes
Perhaps, it wouldn't hurt to learn a bit more about limits and infinities, Satoru thought before taking a nap in the library.
….
Or I can ask if she can help me study. because she’s good at that, right? she’s always at the library, always ignoring my texts because of her goddamn exams…
Gojo pondered, crossing his arms with his index and thumb rubbing against his chin, his cheeks squeezed while furrowing his brows.
but fuck, that means I won’t be able to talk to her because last time — I mean, it’s been a month since then, maybe it’ll be different now, I figure we got closer. she's smiling a bit more and we’ve gone on a couple of dates… I suppose —
…
“Psst,” Gojo harshly whispered from across the table, “psst!”
Glaring at him over your laptop, eyes sparkling and round, face needy for attention, “what do you want?” You spat out.
“Just wondering,” Gojo chirped, his ears perked in your direction with his elbows resting on the table, body leaning towards your direction, “Have you fallen for me yet?”
“No, you’re not my type.” you retorted emotionless.
“What’s your type then?” Gojo countered, unfazed, smiling as he challenged your words.
“Someone, not Gojo Satoru.”
“Well, aren’t you spicy?” He stretched out his legs while leaning back on his chair, boyishly smiling with his arms thrown behind his neck, the lean physique of his body outlined in this position — he looked hot, no doubt about that, and… he knew that.
“but i’m just going to tell you now,” cocking his head to the side, licking his soft lips that shined a pretty pink, confidently proclaiming,
“there will come a day when your words will bite you in the ass.”
“Did your parents ever teach you about having some class —“
“Can you guys lower it down, or move someplace else?” a student hushed, stating through gritted teeth as he witnessed the tortuous and unforgivable sight of you both, love, bantering in the library of all places.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, apologetically smiling at them before facing forward to meet your stalker — you swore he was stalking you because there was no way he and you could have this many “random” encounters, that would work out so perfectly with him just magically appearing wherever you go — it's bullshit you thought, especially when his acting skills weren’t necessarily that great…
“Hey babe,” Gojo cheekily whispered,
“I’m not your babe,” you hissed back.
“Ooo, so you like the sweet pet names huh? Noted,” he nodded, the curve of his lips turned upward, humming a tune while he typed something on his phone.
you couldn’t tell what annoyed you more, his devilishly handsome smile, or the fact that your heart was beating in unrhythmic patterns the more you talked with him.
A facade maybe, but you’ve come to undeniably enjoy his rambunctious company despite him getting on your nerves.
“Then, sweetheart, do you wanna —“
“No.” you numbly stated while typing away at your report.
“But I didn’t even get to —“
“Still, no.”
“Fine…” for a moment Satoru slumped into his chair, before quickly asking again, “how about —”
“No.”
Smiling as he rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward as he pushes down your laptop, his long, pretty fingers lightly tapping the case, “Do you hate Gojo Satoru?” His words slyly spewed out of his lips, anticipating your shy face when he catches you slipping for saying ‘no’ without much thought.
“Yes.”
“Boo,” Satoru pouted while retreating to his side, slumping his back to rest his cheeks on his textbook as he closed his eyes.
With your screen down it was easier to take notice of his features. Not that you were blatantly indifferent about his looks — everyone knew Gojo Satoru was handsome — but you rarely got to see him for who he was underneath all the layers of superficial worth people praised him for.
There was a lot on his shoulders from the brief mentions about his family and childhood that you could sense. It was easy to tell that behind all the crazy and loud was a little boy hiding his loneliness and pain under a mask and careless demeanor.
You noticed his lips were mildly protruding out, his brows slightly furrowed and his white hair gently frayed down on his forehead with his lashes long and occasionally fluttering. His skin was unblemished and his jaw was sharp yet his face still held the youth of his age.
He’ll soon prepare to work for his family business, learning about the intricacies of the business and possibly becoming one of those cutthroat bosses you’ve seen in the dramas.
He’ll probably grow a bit more — he’s been working out a lot Gojo would say, proven by the multiple thirst traps he’ll post. His arms were getting a lot more defined, and his abs… oh, you didn’t mean to take a peak. But guess you did have a front-row seat to his almost topless torso when he mindlessly pulled up his shirt while he took off his sweatshirt.
can't say you disliked the view.
You remember feeling warm that day — stomach fluttering with something, while your back felt gently embraced with his scent and clothing.
“You checking me out?” Gojo muttered without taking a glance at you, pulling you back into reality.
“N-no!” you quickly looked away, opening up your laptop as you grimaced at the harsh stares you got from those around you for the noise, “j-just wondering if you were going to study or not?” you murmured, hiding your face behind your laptop and your cheeks starting to feel hot.
“For someone so smart you ask dumb questions,” Gojo chuckled as he stretched out his legs, his feet purposefully tapping against yours, “what does it look like I’m doing, sweetheart?” he quietly mumbled before his voice started to fade out, “you know,” silently yawning as his body curled inward — all 6’3’’ of him on the small desk that barely housed his long legs — the tapping of his foot now softly, soothingly, rubbing against yours, “you gotta work smarter, not hard…er…”
You weren’t sure if the man before you was a complete idiot or a genius. but for unknown reasons, this guy surprisingly scores the top grade in his classes when his only method of “studying” is sleeping with his head on top of his textbook — surely, the world isn’t fair.
Despite the little snore you heard in front of you, with the light grunts he made from the uncomfortable position, you couldn’t help but fondly look at the guy in front of you.
Smiling — yea, you’ve been doing that a lot these days.
You decided — maybe, opening up wouldn’t be so bad…
For you, you remembered it was the first time you felt odd in the stomach. A bit like butterflies as you watched him doze off to sleep, trying your absolute best to restrain your hands from moving a piece of hair that covered his face as he slightly drooled while you studied. You’ve been catching yourself stalling time to meet him where he supposedly just ran into you — he was nice and the epitome of warmth, and you liked that in your dull world.
But for Satoru, it was another failed attempt to get closer to you.
He remembered waking up in an empty library — alone. he swore he rested his head for no more than thirty minutes, but how the hell was the time three hours past that?
Stretching as he released a low groan, his gaze foggy as he squinted his eyes to look for you, only to frown when he realized you were nowhere to be seen.
“dammit” Satoru grumbled while quickly packing his bags, “I wanted to buy dinner —”
A neon post it leafed its way down to the table, planting face down as Gojo slowly blinked in confusion while touching his forehead.
Picking up the piece of paper, it read:
Hey loser, you were mumbling about some food while you slept, so I got you dinner and placed it next to your backpack. go home and eat ( :
p.s. also, stop bothering me, weirdo.
p.p.s. you know you drool while sleeping?
Dumbfoundedly wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Gojo wasn’t sure if he was blushing from embarrassment or the fact that you were the first girl to buy him dinner — well, it wasn’t in the typical romantic sense… but who the fuck cares, it’s the fact that you bought him dinner; therefore, a step a closer to his goal. So he wins.
Carefully folding the note and placing it into the safeguard of his wallet, Gojo quickly strapped on his bag as he gently held onto his dinner, cradling it like a prized possession, mentally noting what to use for his excuse tomorrow while he made his way down the stairs to the exit.
The air felt oddly cold for the summer. the slight breeze brushed against his face, the ends of his hair tickling his cheeks as he breathed in the damp air.
Everything felt good — right almost despite his lost chances of getting dinner with you. Perhaps he can save that for another day.
“Just you wait,” beaming up at the moon lighting up the campus, his blue eyes sparkling as Gojo declared, “you will be mine.”
…
“ — Gojo-kun,” his professor called out. His impatience ran thin as he tapped his foot against the floor, “if you don’t answer, I will fail you —”
“Sensei, the limit just simply doesn’t exist — it’s limitless.” Satoru nonchalantly responded, cooly peaking at his watch now — maybe the time would read faster with that — but the second hand still stayed the same, seconds excruciatingly feeling long.
“No matter how difficult you propose this function, if the derivative doesn’t exist, nor will its limit.” Gojo continued to calmly iterated his reasoning.
“But doesn’t this point here,” pointing at the board, the chalk panging against the surface, “exist?” his professor challenged, “it’s a point on the graph.”
“Well, no matter how far you stretch this graph within the axes, going as far as trying to touch the asymptotes, it will never. because the limit will always be limitless since the function at those points won’t exist. So, no, that point isn’t on the graph.”
“And what about here?,” pointing to the chalkboard,“what is your answer, Gojo-kun?”
“Assuming you only have one x to one y, then the answer is simple. By definition, the limit will exist if the points on both sides of that graph approach the same point. To find that point, well that depends on the graph given. And looking at this graph, no. there are two points that are open.”
It should be about damn time.
Gojo felt his blood rushing through his body, heart anxiously pumping with each heavy thud drumming to his ears, the only sound audible that his brain could decipher instead of the pointless questions his professor was asking — why was he making it so goddamn difficult.
His urgency spiked up as adrenaline pumped through his body, anxiously shaking his leg, Gojo clicked his phone open again, his large hand covering the device as he peeped down.
11:48 — shit.
“Well, what about when —”
“Shit, I'm late,” Gojo cursed, frantically packing up his bag and zipping it up.
“Excuse me?” His professor frowned, obviously taken aback by his student’s daring use of profanity in his lecture.
But paying no mind, Gojo quickly stood up and paved his way out, harshly whispering past with a light smile as he hugged onto his bag, “Psst, sorry, going through!” doing his best to swiftly move through the cramped isles while his giant, uncaring if his lanky build caused a nuisance in the middle of the lecture, unbothered if his professor was done talking to him or not,
“Gojo-kun?” His professor was flabbergasted at his student’s rude ignorance.
“excuse me, sorry!” Satoru cheekily exclaimed while finally making his way out.
“I haven’t dismissed —”
“Sensei sorry!” Gojo exclaimed while opening the lecture door, ready to sprint out, “I promise, I’ll pass your exam tomorrow!” he blurted, voice fading off into the distance and Gojo now nowhere to be seen.
“... at least don’t sit in the middle if you’re always going to barge out like that,” his professor murmured to himself, massaging the bridge of his nose as he sighed.
Yet the only response he got was silence, the awkward creaking of the door closing, and the clock striking the end of his lecture.
“Fuck,” he panted while brushing his fingers through his hair, a little damp from his sweat, his chest huffing from the sprint across campus as he looked at his watch, brows furrowed as his eyes searched everywhere for a glimpse of you.
“Not there,” he mumbled, gazing to his side, “no, not here,” frustratingly turning around as he scanned the area just in case you slipped out the back door, his eyes loosely looking past a couple of figures, “damn it, not here too.”
“What’s not here?” he heard a soft voice from behind him.
“Just looking for someone,” without processing, Satoru blurted out, “uhm… sorry just talking to myself —” Gojo mumbled as he slowly turned around, impatient that someone was taking away his precious time to find you.
Call him a dreamer but he was still hopeful that you possibly didn’t just leave — I mean how could you, when he made it a point to always see you after class, you couldn’t be that clueless.
“You’re late,” you stated, trying to stifle your laugh, his busy eyes quickly changed to ones of nervousness as he registered who was exactly in front of him. His clear, azul eyes were imbued in sheer panic as his expression dwindled to eventual ease as a droplet of sweat ran down from his temple.
“Oh god, uhm,” scratching his head as he awkwardly looked off to the side, whispering under his breath, “I- I ended class a little late, but great to see you again,” he tried composing himself while smiling — the one that made his lips twitch from nervousness.
“I see,” you hummed, “you seem out of breath, Gojo,” you teased, remembering just how frantic he looked minutes prior while running over.
You ended class a bit earlier, wondering if he’d be waiting outside like he normally did, pacing back and forth to make it seem like he simply ran into you — how utterly stupid was he?
But it was you that would giggle, feeling the type of happiness that made your heart full and cheeks hurting — guess you were the stupid one for falling for such an act.
So you decided to wait today, standing off in the corner to witness how he would stage his act — you just didn’t expect him to be in such a panic rush trying to get here.
“Yea, y-you know those stairs, it gets me all the time,” Gojo stiffly laughed as he fisted his hand behind his back, trying to steady his breath and nose from embarrassingly flaring.
“Satoru,” giggling as you peeped up, noticing just how much taller he was compared to you while his hands nervously twitched and cheeks rosy despite his firm stance that his class was only but a few steps away from yours, you couldn’t help but smile at his innocence, “there are no stairs in this building.”
“Satoru, huh… that’s a change… sounds so nice rolling off your tongue,” he pondered while staring at your lips. It was cute and just perfect as you said every letter, every syllable of his name —
“Earth to Gojo Sa-to-ru,” waving your hands, tip-toeing to get his attention.
“Ah, right…. Sorry,” he mumbled, shyly looking away only to take a quick glance at you looking up at him.
“So…” cocking your head to the side, eyes doe-like while looking up through your lashes, “ what’s the plan for today? You softly chirped.
“uhm,” eyes widen, shocked at your response, “what?” his voice was unexpectedly sharp.
“I asked what are we doing today….” Rolling on your heels, “I-isn’t that why you’re here?” you nervously asked.
“Just like that?” Gojo glanced at you, eyes full of suspicion.
“What do you mean?” you questioned, lips starting to form a pout as you awaited his answer.
“Sorry,” he sighed, stretching his legs out to match his height with yours, “didn’t mean to sound harsh,” he apologetically whispered while gazing into your eyes.
“It’s just that you always reject me… I - I mean,” holding his hands up, shaking in defense to not offend you, “don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it,” furrowing his brows as he shook his head, “no, no, let’s retract back. I’m thrilled that you’re asking me. It's just that…” his voice slowly fading as if embarrassment finally caught up to his head.
“It's just what?” you softly mumbled.
“Well,” sighing, “I had all these excuses planned out just in case you said no,” he confessed as he pulled his phone from his pocket, “It’s all in my notes app.”
“Notes app huh?” your lips twitched from trying to contain your laugh.
“So what was the excuse for today? or… ” you teased, gently hitting your elbow against his arm, “should I say no, so your efforts don’t go to waste?”
“Thought we could go for coffee after I uncoincidentally bumped into you after your class,” Satoru shrugged.
“Coffee sounds nice,” you hummed, “you’re buying?”
“Here gimme,” he softly encouraged, quickly taking your bag and swinging it over his shoulder, “I mean, I do owe you one for bumping into you that one day.”
“Ah, so you do admit, that was your fault,” you jokingly glared, “the headache you put me through because of your stupid five hundred dollar shirt,” you grumbled.
“Well technically it was a bit more,” he grinned, “but not really, I believe in fate,” he winked, “it was a divine moment.”
“You’re ridiculous,” rolling your eyes, “but I need to study.”
“I have an excuse for that too.”
“And what could that be?”
“I got an exam tomorrow, so you can watch me be handsomely studious,” Satoru smiled.
“For what class?” stunned to hear Gojo Satoru and studying be spoken in a sentence together.
“Business calc,” he frowned.
“Oh my god! Who’s your professor?” you beamed.
“The one and only Takashi sensei,” Satoru chuckled, softly patting your head as he couldn’t resist your cute enthusiasm.
“What?” your voice suspicious, yet you had no resolve to remove it — it felt nice, his hands were big… you realized.
“Nothing,” biting his lip to contain his laugh,” it’s just… that’s the most you’ve shown interest in me.”
“Whatever…” you huffed to flush out the embarassment, “I have him next semester —”
“I know,” he softly responded, his words going unnoticed.
“— and I’m worried because math isn’t really my forte,” you honestly confessed.
“That’s why you have me!” he stood with his chest tall, his thumb pointing at himself, “I’ll be your dependable, hot tutor that you fall in love with.”
“You’re ridiculous…”
Winking, “I don’t charge pretty girls like you —”
“So you’re telling me, you tutored other girls by being their hot and dependable tutor?” you raised a brow, standing to one side as you crossed your arms.
“What? N-no, that’s not it!”
“mhm, yea… playboy,” shaking your head,” so why are you taking business calculus? Thought you tested out of it, no?”
“Well… a man has his reasons,” he cheekily stated.
“And how does that help me to study?” raising one brow as you questioned his logic, “ I thought your method of studying was sleeping on your textbook.”
“Okay wow, I was not prepared for that. You’re making it difficult for me again, but you know what?” pulling his sleeves up as he stood tall in front of you, “I’m prepared for your rejections. And in answer to that, then we can study together.”
“But you talk too much, and snore when you fall asleep.”
“Not true,” Satoru murmured, “Suguru said I was generally a peaceful and quiet sleeper.”
“Explain generally,” you eyed him suspiciously, “and I didn’t know you both were like that,” giggling, your heart slowly expanding in adoration the more you talked with him, “... sleeping together and such.”
“We just had one too many nights where we would pass out a little drunk after a party,” scratching the back of his head, “and m-my body runs a little hot… so…”
“So…?”
“So, Shoko may or may not have some photos of us,” Gojo’s face started to contort in disgust, “cuddling…”
“But aside from that,” he tried defending himself, “I’m very great to sleep with!”
“Sure…” you gave him a teasing glance, “I’ll ask Geto the next time I see him about that.”
“Hey…” suddenly stepping closer to you, his voice serious yet soft. He was careful to not overstep any boundaries you might have placed, slowly reaching down to grasp hold of your fingers,
“just give me a chance yea? I’ll be good, I- I won’t snore, I won't drool, and I’ll only talk when I need to, hmm?” he reassured
You can almost feel the sore desperation in his voice as you feel the feathery grazes of his fingers against yours; his breath held as he anxiously awaited your answer.
“Okay,” you softly mumbled.
“Great,” releasing his breath, “you won’t regret it, I promise,” Gojo whispered while smiling.
“Hey Satoru,” you lightly called out, his name perfectly rolling off your tongue — so delicate, so pretty.
“Mhm,” he invited you to continue.
“Did you run here?” You questioned, playing with your foot as you rolled a rock on your shoe, “you’re normally not so out of breath.”
“Pssh, no,” he awkwardly laughed, “I told you my class is in this building as well —“
“Stupid, come here,” you murmured, pulling him slightly down, taking a piece of your sleeve as you tiptoed to reach his face. Gently dabbing the small droplets of sweat under his soft white bangs, “next time don’t run. And finish your class, Sensei’s going to hate you,” you softly told him.
“I- I told you,” blushing because your face was way too close — dangerous even — examining your features, ‘pretty’ he thought as he watched you concentrate on him,
“I just happened to have class —“
“I’ll be waiting next time, so take your time coming,” you smiled, looking into his eyes before quickly flattening your feet, “it’s quite far to come here from across campus, no?”
Satoru just gives in, like the hundred different times where he willingly lost to you, “Not as hard as scoring a date with you,” he smiled while spreading his feet out to make it easier for you to continue.
“It’s not a date,” you mumbled, your cheeks feeling hot as his soft eyes gazed at you, his two hands lightly placed on your hips to draw you closer.
“It is so definitely a date,” Satoru professed, “and I can just tell,” his voice feathery and light, “that we’ll have many more.”
10 years later —
The light scratching on his pen against the document loomed in his office. Ijichi, his most trusted secretary anxiously waited for his boss to finish signing his papers, watching guard just in case he didn’t go running off before finishing all his duties — again.
“You don’t need to stand there hovering,” Gojo nonchalantly stated, his wrist gently peeking through his cuffs, his watch shining with every stroke of his name.
“Well, these reports are important that you have them signed by today,” Ijichi nervously answered.
“Do you have it ready?” Gojo responded without removing his gaze from the file he was reading just before signing.
“I-I do, the flower shop did say it was difficult to find the specific color, but they made it work. I’ll bring it over when you’re done… and reservations have been made, sir.”
“Perfect, because…” his voice calm and emotionless, his hair once perfectly set in the morning, now just a little frazzled from his busy day, his tie now loose from his stress, “this should be the last one I do,” Satoru smiled while giving his secretary the folder.
“Sir, uhm you still have —”
“I’ll do them tomorrow,” Gojo stood up, reaching over to grab his coat, quickly throwing it over his broad shoulder.
“B-but!” Ijichi was frantic, his eyes shaking at the visible stack of papers Satoru had yet to sign — and oh, god, he didn’t even get to read over the file for tomorrow’s presentation.
“Satoru-sachou, the Chairman will be there for tomorrow—“
“And the flowers are beautiful, she’ll love them, thank you,” Gojo warmly smiled while taking a whiff of its scent, walking past the frazzled man to a mirror to quickly freshen up his white hair and clothes, reapply your favorite cologne and spray some mint into his mouth.
“Satoru-sach —”
“Relax, when have I ever worried you?”
'always,' Ijichi thought.
Nonchalant and unbothered as he fixed his tie, “It’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, and you’ll be fine,” Satoru stated as he took one look at the mirror, his sharp cerulean eyes looking at his secretary, “go take the night off, you look exhausted.”
You! You are the source of my stress and mental breakdowns! Ijichi wanted to scream.
While making his way to the door, Satoru quickly noted, “I’ll be here in the morning with all of it finished,” he stated before leaving his office.
At a loss for words, helpless in front of his careless boss, Ijichi just stood frozen, mind racing at all the changes and accommodations, the phone calls and e-mails he’d have to make to fit into Gojo’s schedule because he knew for sure… Gojo Satoru will not be here bright and early in the morning to finish his work — especially when it is date night.
“I should just quit,” falling to his knees, defeated by his boss’s carelessness to simply skadoodle off on a date when he was one impacted by the brunt repercussions of his actions, “surely he wants to kill me with all this— ”
Disrupting his internal monologue, “Ah, I almost forgot,” Ijichi’s mortal enemy spoke while opening the door and holding onto the knob, “I booked a small vacation for you and your wife for this weekend, it should be in my drawer,” the man simply blinked in response, “and don’t call me until I text you, I got important business for tonight,” Gojo warned before his voice quickly changed to that of pity, “yea… you definitely need that break,” he stated as he shook his head and closed the door again.
Registering what just occurred, Ijichi grunted as he lifted himself up, brushing his knees as he walked towards Satoru’s desk, lightly skipping as the scales of his exhaustion flaked off from the caring act of his boss, “Well, guess I gotta start sending those emails now…” Ijichi hummed.
…
“Traffic doesn’t seem too bad,” Gojo muttered while looking at his phone’s navigation, his steps pacing as the clicks of his heels echoed through the halls of the empty parking garage.
Sliding his hand behind the handle, the car automatically turned on as he opened the door. Lowly grunting as he entered his Bentley, his eyes quickly scanned his back seat from the rearview mirror, his mind recalling a moment a couple of days prior that left you rather speechless in his arms — hot and sticky as he reconfirmed once again his love for you in a rather lustfully carnal matter.
He could do that with you — boyfriend privileges.
It’s not like he picked out this specific car, testing out the back specifically for its… spacious seating and tinted window. Totally didn’t bring this car to work today because he wanted to test those specifications out again… but only if you were up for it.
And stepping on the gas pedal, Gojo drove out, the light screeches of his car heard from inside.
“Daddy’s coming, sweetheart,” Gojo chuckled while firmly placing a grip on his wheel, his vacant arm resting on the side.
Though a decade has gone by, Satoru still feels the same giddiness that he did when he was eighteen. He’s gotten taller, bulkier in his frame, and styled his clothes better from the god-awful sweats he always wore — though you still seem to always complain if he wasn’t wearing his specific gray ones, he doesn’t blame you. It makes his dick look nice.
He kisses you a lot better than the sloppy ones he gave you in his teen years. He gets to wake up with you — face cutely bloated, tummy peaking through his loose shirt, legs entangled with his as he takes in your beauty. He likes that, all of it.
He reads and understands your quirks before you even tell him. And strangely so, when you have a headache, well god be damned, he had one too.
He’s become more influential and held power to his name, leading a multi-billion company, but in the privacy of his home, he was still silly, honest, and vulnerable. Contrary to the changes throughout the years, Satoru was still the same — a lovesick man.
Despite your harsh decision to break up with him from a simple misunderstanding, Gojo never held it against you. He’s grown to understand and works to amend the loss — together. It was his time to grow, his time to expand his horizons and his time to explore his options. But guess fate was really on his side because he walked back to where it all started with a fresh start — finding you two years ago at a college reunion.
Life was good for Satoru — better when you came back into his world. Mornings weren’t so tough and nights didn’t feel so lonely. His mundane days of meeting and mediocre dates were of the past. Now, even the simplest days felt refreshing.
Looking out as he drove through the highway, a couple minutes from your workplace, he watched the city’s skyline sparkle in the dark. He recalled the days when he looked out the night sky, thinking if you were happy, wishing he could just understand why you decided to leave him — only for him to make some regrettable choices of relying on alcohol and texting quick fucks, slipping into weakness during the quietest of times.
It’s often when everything was quiet that felt the loudest — the most difficult to bear for him.
But now, when he sees the night sky he can’t help but feel warm with a slight tingling resonating from his core because even if it's quiet, he isn’t alone — you’ve nestled into a portion of his heart that he could never forsake, nor did he want to.
She’ll like that, Gojo thought while looking up, making a mental note to mention it to you later.
He felt his heart beating fast as he imagined what face you would make when you would see him today — happy, relieved, excited? Or did you happen to have a bad day, the exhaustion dripping from your slumped shoulders simply needing a hug with light kisses as he expressed his love?
And parking his car, carefully grabbing the bouquet as he took another whiff — he doesn’t remember flowers smelling so beautifully fragrant when you weren’t in his life, but strangely now… it does.
“Yellow tulips are my favorite,” you mentioned once while Satoru dropped you off at your dorm.
“Why,” he asked. Repeating ‘yellow tulips’ in his head multiple times just so he can type it into his notes app later when he is alone.
“Just cause… they’re beautiful and they symbolize hope and happiness,” you softly said, “I like to think there’s something out there I can be hopeful for… and maybe find the answer to finding true happiness, if that even exists, ” you shyly confessed with a gentle laugh.
And grabbing hold of your hand, gently bringing it up to his lips for a soft kiss, specific to a finger on your left hand, Satoru marked a promise, “I’ll buy you all the yellow tulips in the world, till you find that answer.”
Obviously, no flower could come abysmally close to your natural scent when he held you tightly in his arms, naked bodies touching as he breathed into your skin.
And he hoped the time he spent with you was a step closer to finding your true happiness because, to him, you meant the world.
“She’ll be out in a few, so...” he murmured while taking a look at his watch, briefly scanning the entrance to find a good spot to wait.
“There should be perfect,” he whispered to himself as he made his way to the corner — a place difficult to see through from the dangling tree leaves and vines.
Satoru couldn’t help but pleasingly reminiscence the times when he would run from his lecture to pick you up. Who can blame him, he was a man on a mission to find his princess — just so happens that she broke his heart eight years ago — but who the fuck cares about setbacks, things were good now.
He feels his heart beating, the familiar thumping in his chest as he waits for you. The usual sweating of his palms as he checked his phone for the time again, mentally groaning as time seemed to be infinitely fixed. Good thing there was no sensei asking him useless questions as he nervously waited.
“I’ll see you next week, have a great weekend Tanaka-san.”
Gojo could realize that voice anywhere.
There you were, waving goodbye to a fellow male coworker that he had never liked — the lovely Tanaka-san, you always had so many great things to say about. He should just have you transferred to his company, you’ll thrive, and even have a chance to expand your talents … but you’ll give him an earful if he does.
But that’ll be a conversation for another day when he’s more willing to put up a friendly fight with you.
Because right now, he had a mission — one he’s been striving for since eighteen.
“Ah, fancy I see you here,” Satoru voiced out, coming out from the dark with a hand behind his back, “must’ve been fate that we meet,” he stated with a wink.
Rolling your eyes with a chuckle, turning around to see your boyfriend walking over, “did you run here? Or…” you hummed while looking over to find his Bentley parked on the right, “are you gonna tell me you work here too?”
“Neither,” he shrugged while walking, “just came here to ask a pretty girl out on a date, that’s all,” his voice soft yet enticing as he now stood so closely in front of you.
“Oh, I’m sorry but I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend,” you looked around, your knees feeling weak when you caught his confident smirk, the sweet scent of his cologne hypnotizing your senses, “have you seen him? He’s really handsome, you know?” you played on.
“You do?” Satoru warmly stated as he gave you the bouquet he was hiding behind his back, his fingers gently resting on your hips as he pulled you in, your dainty heels standing in between his larger dress shoes while he pressed a warm kiss to your cheek, “Bet your handsome boyfriend doesn’t have flowers for you like this, no?”
“He gets them for me all the time,” you took a whiff of the rose and caught sight of the yellow incarnation of hope, “and always picks me up from work even though it drives his secretary insane.”
“Pssh, what a bad boyfriend,” he whispered with his gaze traveling to your lips, “you should totally dump him for me,” he pitched while cupping your face, lips teasing to touch, the slight minty breeze of his breath warming your cheeks, as he slowly closed the impending gap between you two,
“what do you say, sweetheart? Give me a chance and I’ll treat you to more than just coffee for our date tonight.”
note: hope you all enjoyed! it was rather difficult to pull out this piece because I was heartbroken from the last jjk chapter... but all is well now because gojo is healthy and well in the forbes30! universe. this was a headcanon that spiraled into a 6k fic... and hopefully i'll be able to expand on the other hc's i have for him, without breaking the word count rip
Summary: Every morning waking up next your boyfriend is nice. Although… it’s even nicer when you know both of you have a day off all to yourselves. When you make pancakes for breakfast… you thought it’d be innocent. His caressing and kisses get distracting… and you should’ve known better than to get sucked into it. Especially when using a hot pan.
You woke up next to your boyfriend as usual. A smile on your face as you untangle from his arms and sit up, stretching your arms over your head. You then feel the bed shift slightly and hear a tired groan. You smile and face your boyfriend. “Good morning baby” you say and see him look over in your direction.
“Good morning Schatz…” his voice is laced with sleep. He reaches a hand up to your face, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb. He slowly sits up, moving next to you. His large hand moving to your back, easily pulling you in so you’re nuzzling against his chest. “We have the whole day to ourselves baby…” softly tracing his skin with the pan of your finger.
“I know… and I can’t wait to spend it with you however we want” his voice was raspy, and his accent was thick as he spoke. You noticed it was more noticeable right when he wakes up, it made you feel lucky, being the only person to hear it so early in the morning.
You shift to look up at him, to your dismay he has his sniper hood on but you know not to mention it. Instead wrapping both your arms around his neck before leaning up and kissing his cheek through the fabric. “I’d be up for some breakfast? Maybe make some pancakes together?” you spoke softly and the deep hum in his throat more so resembled a growl.
He nods his head and then leans down placing a chaste kiss on your lips thorough his hood. It made your cheeks flush, a sight that always made him hazy, dizzy on the drug that was you. “I like that idea”. At that you stand up off the bed heading to the closet.
You open the doors of König’s closet, which has now been invaded by some of your own clothes. Yet you grabbed one of König’s shirts, putting it on over your bare figure, fabric falling to cover up your underwear, it’s large size swallowing you up. Behind you the sound of heavy footsteps can be heard, large arms then wrap around your waist.
“You need anything baby?” You ask, referring to the closet, you feel him place his head on yours. “Nein. Danke Schatz” You smile and with that you both made your way towards the kitchen. As König followed you, he kept a hand intertwined with one of yours the whole time. Not wanting to slip from your grip for a single moment, in a way you were his charging port.
You smile and as you reach the kitchen you look at your boyfriend, taking in his outfit, or… lack thereof. He stood there, wearing only his boxers. Had it been earlier on in your relationship, he would’ve shifted under your gaze, bouncing on his feet shyly. but now? he felt his most comfortable around you, loving how only you saw him at his most vulnerable. “You want to take a photo liebling? Make it last longer” he teased and you just blushed, clearing your throat.
“Let’s get cooking!” You say excitedly and notice through the holes of his hood how his eyes narrow, a telltale sign that he was smiling. You both begin to grab all the ingredients, moving around the kitchen in a majestic flow, you’d been there countless times, you and König had found a perfect rhythm.
Once you have everything set out on the counter, you place a big mixing bowl at the center, you once again feel your brick wall of a boyfriend press against your body, his arms circling your waist. You shake your head. “Aren’t we supposed to be making this together?” teasing him as you feel him rest his chin on your shoulder.
“We are… I’m just letting you take the lead” his hand then moves from around your waist passing you the whisk. “See? I’m helping” his voice sending vibrations through you as his lips rest against the skin of your neck. You shiver slightly but just chuckle. “Mhm. Sure baby.” and take the whisk.
You place all the ingredients into the mixing bowl, the entire time König’s lips were stuck to your neck, leaving soft kisses, making sure each one was placed perfectly. Taking a second or two to relish the feeling of your skin against his lips before moving them.
You then begin to mix the ingredients using the whisk, you feel a soft bite at your skin and gasp softly, you turn slightly in his arms to smack his chest. “König! I’m trying to focus” your tone teasing and your smile wide, it only makes him want to bite you more, get more of a rise out of you, hear more of the soft chuckles that leave those perfect lips of yours.
“Why don’t you be good and get the pan ready while I mix hm?” You say tilting your head, your tone demanding but soft. König let’s out a disappointed groan but nods, pulling away. “Fine.” He sounded defeated and you just chuckle at the small tantrum he’s throwing.
You continue to mix the batter while he grabs a pan, and then places it on the stove, putting some oil in it before looking back at you with gentle eyes. “All ready for you mein liebling” your eyes focus back on him as he speaks, you smile and stop mixing the batter. Now smooth and the texture silky.
“The batter should be ready too” you say and place the whisk in the sink before grabbing a small spoon, scooping up a little bit of the batter and tasting it. You hum softly and lick your lips. Watching how his eyes were trained on the spoon, unable to push away the rather dirty thoughts he had as your tongue came out and licked at the dip in the metal.
“I thinks it’s ready baby, you wanna try it?” You say softly, he can immediately pick up on the seductive tone laced in each word. You place the bowl on the counter and stand there, still smirking. He narrows his eyes slightly before he cautiously nods his head. The way you playfully bite your lip has him curious to what you were up to. He lifts his hood above his lips to accept a taste.
You don’t leave him wondering for long as you go to grab more batter from the bowl using the spoon, but at the last moment you stop. Then, in one fluid motion, you drop the spoon into the bowl, reach a hand behind his neck and pull his face towards you, kissing him passionately. Letting him taste the batter on your lips and tongue. Before pulling away and whispering softly against his lips.
“What do you think? Does it taste good?” You watch how his eyes slowly open, widening. Not having expected that. The kiss made his heart ache and it felt as if it was going to burst from your affection. His voice is low when he responds “It tastes perfect… but you taste better Schatz” his words making you blush again but chuckling as you see the effect you had on him with just your lips.
“Good… let’s start cooking some pancakes then” you hand him the mixing bowl, grabbing a spatula and walking to the stove, where the pan is already sizzling. When you walked away his head turned trying to follow your lips, he walked after you as if you had a leash on him. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but he loved it when you teased him like that, drove him mad with such simple acts.
He didn’t need to say it for you to know, you loved making any little thing sensual just to watch how it effects him. You decide to tease him a little further and turn your head, smiling innocently “Come on, be a good boy and pass me the bowl” closing off the statement with a wink.
He was frozen in place, a blush settling on his cheeks feeling, oddly, small despite his large and threatening figure. You always managed to get him like this, he loved it because you only ever did it in private, relishing this part of him as something only you saw. “Y-yes Schatz” he mumbles and shuffles forward, although it only took 1 large stride for him, placing the bowl on the counter next to the pan sat on the stove.
"Here you go." he whispered again softly and then wraps his arms around your waist gently, before nuzzling his face into where your neck meets your shoulder. His way of trying to hide his blushing face from you, even though he had his sniper hood on, you’d know. Despite his attempt, you can feel his slightly shaky breathing against your neck, as if he was trying to calm himself, making you smirk.
“That’s my good König, my sweet big bear” you only teased him more, knowing that nickname always made his skin heat up. This time it did much more than that, you felt him melt against you at your words, he wanted to be completely enveloped in you and your presence, he couldn’t let you get away with this relentless teasing though, so he bites softly at your skin making you yelp.
You chuckle but understand, stopping your teasing before he melts into a puddle on the floor. You focus on the pancakes, using a measuring cup to get equal amounts of batter each time. Pouring it into the pan watching as it forms perfect circles. Letting them sit before flipping them when they reach a smooth golden brown.
König was no longer in a state to help you make the pancakes, so he just went back to kissing your neck as he was doing before. The fabric of his hood tickling your collar and the back of your neck softly while his lips placed gentle kisses against your skin.
His eyes watching you make the pancakes, thinking about how you managed to do something so simple in such a skillful manner. They looked delicious, and he felt himself salivate slightly at the sight of them.
You chuckle as you felt his kisses get wetter, playfully remarking “someone’s hungry” which only earned you a soft hum and a muffled response. “I cannot help it mein Schatz. They look delicious. I’m sure you put a lot of love into them”
You feel his kisses move to just below your jaw and cheek, finding yourself suddenly unable to stand still and began to shift in place. Your cheeks tinting a soft red at his praise and his affectionate kisses.
“Aww König… that’s really sweet of you to say. There is definitely a lot of love in these pancakes” you say and continue to make the pancakes as König showers your neck in kisses. You then slightly turn your head to look at him face to face.
“But if I didn’t put enough… I’m more than happy to give you the rest of my love later” you wink at him and then lean forward giving him a soft kiss. He closes his eyes when your lips touch and he leans forward kissing you deeply. When you pull away he hums softly.
You felt an amused but fond smile grow on your lips and look back at the pancakes. When you do, he goes back to kissing your cheek, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. Pulling your body closer against his chest. You blush slightly, and let out a giggle as his kisses trail down your nape. You try to shift away slightly but his arms keep you in place.
“König~ if you keep kissing my neck like that I won’t be able to focus on the pancakes” you go back to flipping the pancakes and transferring them to the plate, stacking them up into a pile. You then pour more batter into the pan.
Its then that König gets a bit more confident, seeing the impact his kisses have on you. He smirks against your skin and speaks. “Well Schatz, I suggest you try your best… because I refuse to stop showing you just how much love I have for you”
The vibration of his voice sent shivers through your body, hearing his deep voice so close to your ear put you in a haze. You can’t help how your eyes flutter slightly and you bite your lip. Nothing felt as nice as König’s soft lips against your skin. That coupled with the soft sensation of the fabric of his hood against your collar… it was enough to have you weak.
You just try and focus on flipping the pancakes again but blush more and more at his growing affection. His kisses lingering more, him getting more playful and biting at times, nipping at your skin, loving how your breath hitches slightly.
“Ah! König hun~ you’re distracting me” you say again, chuckling softly. Slowly feeling yourself melt in his arms with each kiss, feeling so small in his presence. “I know…” he says and you just shake your head. He simply wanted to watch you melt… placing kiss after kiss on your neck, wanting to see you crumble a little bit more.
“You’re so bad…” you say and hear him chuckle lowly. He immediately retorts back. “I’m bad? And what about you Schatz, hm? You’re the one trying to avoid my kisses” he continues to kiss your neck, wanting to watch you shift in his arms, and you’d be damned if it didn’t work.
You scoff and shake your head “Oh really? You’re trying to turn this on me now?” You keep your eyes on the pancakes, flipping them. “The only reason I’m ‘avoiding’ your kisses is because I don’t wanna burn the pancakes” with that you place the pancakes on the stack. “Now…”
You pour the last bits of batter onto the pan. “Just a few more left to make baby, then we can eat” you say, hoping to get him to stop his kisses a little bit. Instead he persists, leaving a particular harsh bite on the skin between your neck and shoulder.
You gasp, he smiles at that and then comments “that’s alright… I found something better to eat” you hum softly at his words, the possessive and teasing nature to them had your focus drifting. He goes back to kissing softly, you no longer trying to stop him.
You simply tease “is that so? Well… how about you save me for lunch?” He chuckles at your words as his lips move up to your jaw, closer to your lips. “I like the sound of that…” his tone was low and you slowly turned your head to face him.
He leans forward and kisses you softly, you close your eyes, enjoying how he hums against your lips. You melt more into his arms, their grasp around your waist feeling like the only thing that keeps you standing. Your whole body relaxing under the softness of his kiss, unfortunately, that included your arm that was making the pancakes.
One second you felt nothing but König’s love and affection, and in the next you felt searing hot pain against your wrist as it touches the rim of the pan. Your eyes open in an instant, crying out in pain, before roughly stepping away from the stove.
“AH! GODA- SHITSHITSHIT!” you dropped the spatula into the pan, your other hand moves to grab your wrist like a vice. The strength of your retreat was enough to cause König to stumble back, unwrapping his arms from your waist. You clench your eyes shut, and double over as you can still feel the sting of the burn coursing through your body.
König felt frozen in place, not yet realizing you got burned “Schatz! What’s wrong?!” He simply watches you with wide eyes, waiting for you to say something. You rush over to the sink, softly pushing past him, and begin to run lukewarm water over the burn, feeling your eyes well up.
He moves to stand next to you at the sink, spotting the red mark across your wrist, putting together what happened. “Oh god, are you alright? Do you need any help?” There was clear panic in his tone, not knowing what to do or how to help you, trying to find a way to soothe you as much as he could.
You couldn’t ignore the feeling of agitation creeping up on you. Unable to push away your racing thoughts; “I should’ve focused on the pancakes’ was the first… leading to ‘how could I let myself get distracted?!’ ending with ‘why couldn’t he just listen and not distract me!’. You didn’t want to be angry with him, but as a few tears ran down your cheeks, and you heard him ramble, trying to help, you just felt overwhelmed.
“It’s fine! I just burned my wrist on the pan… I don’t need any help, I’ll take care of it myself.” there was a grimace on your face, your tone hostile and frustrated. You weren’t even looking at König, keeping your eyes on your wrist, watching how the water runs over the burn… noticing how it begins to blister.
He was taken aback at your tone, but he understood. You were in pain… he wouldn’t blame you for getting harsh, deciding to just stand next to you. At his silence you felt yourself tense, his presence making your skin crawl, not knowing what to do after your slight outburst.
“J-just turn off the stove…” you mumble softly, some of the harshness gone from your voice. König just nods and walks off, going to turn off the stove. At the sound of his footsteps walking away, you let out a sigh of relief, just needing to be alone for a moment. You begin to softly caress the burn with a thumb, hissing slightly at the feeling.
When he comes back over to the sink, he leans forward, trying to get a better view of how bad the burn was. When he spots the redness of it, and how it was practically imprinted across the entirety of your wrist, he couldn’t help but scrunch his eyes slightly, just imaging the pain you must’ve felt.
“If it’s too painful… we can just stay home?” He spoke softly, nervous and clearly worried for you. He looks back up at you, not able to look into your eyes as they were still focused on your wrist. “Would you rather do that?” he leans to your face, going to place a kiss on your cheek through his hood.
At the last moment you pull away just enough for him to miss. You loved his affection but right now there was irritation simmering in you, unable to get out of your head the fact that you told him not to distract you… told him that you needed to focus. You then spoke, voice still stern, but less harsh. “No. I don’t want to cancel our day out”
He couldn’t help but be hurt at the way you avoided his kiss, slowly stepping back, deciding to give you space. He nodded at your words and then listened intently as you spoke again. “Can you just go put the pancakes on the table and get us some plates and cutlery… I’ll be over in a minute”
He muttered out a soft “Alright…” before walking away from the sink. You catch the small sigh he lets out, easing your irritation slightly as you begin to regret the tone you spoke to him in. He walks to the pantry to grab the plates, setting them out onto the table, alongside a napkin and cutlery.
Once everything was set he looks over at you, by now you turned the water off and just softly ran your thumb over the blistering burn. “Schatz?” He approached you with slightly hunched shoulders, gauging your demeanor for any anger or irritation. By now it had faded away.
“Do you need anything else?” He asked and you turned your head to face him, your face no longer in a grimace, your expression reading indifference. You look at him for a moment before glancing down at the ground. “C-can you grab me the burn gel… and a bandage” he nodded and went off to grab them.
When he came back, you were sitting on your chair at the table, still looking at the burn. König moves to kneel in front of you, placing the gel and bandage on the table before softly taking your wrist in his hand. “Here… let me” he spoke gently and you didn’t stop him, just nodding your head.
His eyes looked at the burn, brows furrowing at the blister that had formed. He grabbed the gel with one hand, while the other held your wrist, thumbs softly caressing your skin just below the burn. Before placing on the gel, he leans down kissing at the burn softly, making eye contact with you as he did. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks slightly flush.
When he placed the gel on your burn, you hissed out slightly at the stinging pain, watching as he began to wrap your wrist in a thin layer of bandage. “There. All better” following his words he leaned down again, lifting his snipers hood enough to place a kiss on the bandage, before pulling away.
König begins to stand up but stops as he feels your hand circle his forearm, he looks at you questioning, your eyes looking at your lap. “Thank you König…” he kneels back in front of you, placing both his hands on your thighs, running them up and down your skin softly. “Of course Schatz.” He doesn’t move, sensing your unease, and at your sigh he waits for you to speak intently.
“I’m sorry for getting harsh. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I was just irritated that I did something as stupid as look away from a hot pan” you chuckle softly, seemingly at yourself. König smiles, and at his silence you finally look up at him, brows furrowed in guilt, expression reading as apologetic.
“It’s okay Schatz, it was partly my fault too. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away with my kisses… should’ve been more careful” leaning forward he kisses your cheek and you smile at him. “Still… it’s not like I was fighting you off” you give him a small wink and he chuckles.
König turns ever so slightly to kiss your lips, both your eyes closing for a moment, lips moving naturally. Soon after he pulls away and the smile on his face was complete visible to you, able to spot his teeth ever so slightly through the part between your lips.
“How about we share a nice breakfast together and then we go out and do whatever you wish hm? What do you say mein Schatz?” his voice gentle, as if talking to a deer. Reflecting his smile you respond with a simple “As long as it involves you… I’ll be happy”
A/N: Just a little idea I had after seeing all the TikToks and now I am yanked onto the Ghost train. I used to watch my brother play the game but that was a while ago so bear with me here. (advice or little pointers are much appreciated). I also might make this into a short story or add another part to it, let me know y’all. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!
Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.
Warnings: language, fluff, angst
You were assigned to the team as their personal physician, as requested by the higher ups in order to make sure the soldiers stayed in best health, both physically and mentally. You used to work at your local hospital before you were offered the position.
You knew the dangers and the risks involved, but you were in debt and had student loans that needed to paid. So after much hesitation, you accepted the offer, eventually being convinced by the fat paycheck.
You remembered the day you were first introduced to the team, the way everyone's eyes glued to you like a hawk, their large forms towering over your small frame in the room while you picked at the skin around your nails in nervous habit.
They were curious to say the least, wondering what the hell someone like you was doing in a place like this. And since when did they get the chance to have a full on doctor to treat them, usually they were offered combat medics. You had guts, that's for sure.
You on the other hand were nervous, frightened even, with the thought of living in the same quarters of men wrapped up within the tumults and afflictions of war without a single clue as to their current psychological state. You had seen the worst of men and humanity growing up and you no idea who these soldiers were, what they were capable of, or what their intentions might be. Maybe you should have requested that briefing before you hopped on that plane.
Amongst all of their gazes, you had failed to notice a certain masked individual in the far back of the room, his form shrouded amongst the others as he studied you. His eyes, hidden underneath the grooves of his mask that only seemed to be darkened by where he stood blocked by the only source of light, watched your every movement, from every gesture of your perfectly manicured fingers to every smoothing of the lint-free fabric of your sweater to the way you kept shifting your weight from one foot to another.
One thing was apparent; during the entire length the high ranking officer next to you introduced you and debriefed the men on what was expected and such, you had not uttered a single word, minus the small polite and somewhat strained smile on your face while your eyes told another story. Why the military truly hired you, he may never know.
After being shown your little office and workspace including your room, you were quick to settle in, decorating the area to the best of your abilities with what you had taken with you from back home in order to bring some life into the dull and two-dimensional area. If anyone questioned you on it you would just say that your own sanity is extremely vital in order to ensure quality treatment for your patients.
Once everything in your office was set up, you threw on your white coat and retreated yourself to your office space, sitting at your desk and hastily going over the files that you had completely forgotten about that were given to you regarding the soldiers' previous health before they come pouring in reporting symptoms of god knows what. Best be prepared. Jesus how many bullet wounds can a single individual have.
The soldiers were advised to do their routine physical examinations with you so the first one to come waltzing in through your office door was none other than Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a cheeky grin plastered on his face and much too excited for his own good. That boy's got a crush on you I swear. To be honest I'd be lying if I said the whole team didn't have a schoolboy crush on you.
The men were quick to warm up to you, relieved to have a gentle soul in their midst after all the shit that goes down outside, you were like breath of fresh air. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to bring a doctor on board, as quiet and reserved as you were. They speculated you were just shy, the reason why you never spoke much, not knowing that you just couldn't hold a conversation if your life depended on it, especially around those you weren't close with. At first they couldn't tell because of your major rbf.
During their routine check-ups or whatever issue they had going on, they would do most of the talking, which was a good thing on your end because it helped you to piece together their temperaments. Thank the lord no one is a psycho murderer. Oh wait.
Soap is the most chattiest of them all. Boy wouldn't shut his mouth when he sat in your office. He's super flirty. But not as flirty as Alejandro.
Ghost on the other hand was reluctant to step into your office for his check-ups. After all he was usually the one to tend to his own wounds or just push through whatever it is that is going on, so he did not know what all the fuss was about in having to get his health checked. So when you call out his last name more than once might I add, clipboard in hand and scanning the area for whoever looks to be headed in your direction, he can't help but heave out a sigh, trudging over to where you stood, your clean white coat a stark contrast to the rest of the environment as you leaned against your door to hold it open.
You muttered out a small hello to which he let out a small huff as you moved aside to let the man enter, watching him walk into your office and seat himself down. That man intimidated you a bit not gonna lie. Not only could you not see his face but he had also not said a single word to you. And not to mention he was absolutely huge as compared to you, even more so in person. You also had heard a lot of stories from the other guys.
"How is your day?" You ask, shutting the door behind you as you briefly read over his previous but extremely short records on your clipboard. There's barely anything on this man. Does he not get ill?
Ghost is quiet at first, watching your eyes scan over the clipboard and curious to know just what is on those papers before your eyes flit up to meet his and catch him off guard, which causes him to answer abruptly. "Fine."
"Okey dokes." You give a quick smile.
Did you just say okey dokes.
Clearing your throat, you go over to where he sat and set the clipboard down on the table next to you beside your laptop. You didn’t have to read his body language to know he did not want to be here at all. So you were going to do him a favor and make the appointment as quick as possible.
"So do you have any allergies to any medications, any allergies I need to know of?" Your fingers hover over the keyboard of your laptop as you turn to face him, only to be met with an expressionless skull of a mask and the expressionless eyes beneath. Oh boy this session was going to be something. You had heard of how he had never shown his face, so you made sure not to question on it.
"No ma'am."
"Are you currently taking any medication?" You ask the same standard set of questions you have asked every single patient of yours, typing as you go.
"No ma'am."
Any previous illness? Disease?"
"No."
The more you ask him questions, the more he strangely finds it easier to answer. Your voice is surprisingly soft, warm even, like the start of autumn, and he finds it comforting to listen to. Or maybe it's just some technique doctors learn during training in order to relax their patients.
"Do you have any history of smoking, alcohol, or illicit drug use?"
".......sometimes I'll have a smoke, and a glass of bourbon." He's almost waiting for you to hand him a pamphlet about the dangers of smoking.
"How many times would you say?" You ask for details, your eyes still glued to the screen of your laptop as you await his answer.
Ghost is a bit confused by the amount of questions you ask, but he also has not been to the doctor's so how would he know. "Um I don't know."
"A rough estimate is fine."
"Not much, maybe 2-3 times a week or so when I'm not on duty."
"How many times a week do you exercise?" You feel silly for asking this question to a man like him but it's all part of the procedure and you almost pray he doesn't hate you for it.
"Every day." So no pamphlet?
Jesus this man has more discipline than you. You can barely get up in the morning.
"Okayyy." You mutter out, more to yourself as you enter in his responses.
Ghost finds himself watching you from his seat on the chair, his eyes tracing over and studying your features as you type away on your laptop. He thinks you're really pretty but either doesn't want to admit it or just flat out does not know that he finds you attractive.
There are certain details about you that he can't help but find himself intrigued by, like the small black outline flower tattoo on your hand that was located near the area of your thumb, running along the curve to meet the knuckle of your forefinger. He's curious as to the meaning behind it, if there was one. He wanted to ask what type of flower it was, perhaps it was your favorite? It would give him an idea as to what flowers to get you.
"Have you ever been hospitalized, had any surgical procedures done or been treated for any chronic conditions?"
"No." Ghost shakes his head before remembering his wounds from combat, wondering if that is something you should know. "Just the bullet and knife wounds from combat. Nothing too serious."
Jesus fucking christ. You were willing to bet he treated those wounds himself.
Ghost is not a fan of hospitals. Pretty sure this dude just looks up YouTube tutorials on how to fix himself instead of just going to the doctor like a normal human being.
"When was the last time you visited your general practitioner.......or just any doctor in general?" You ask the last question, willing to bet it never.
There was silence on his end as you looked towards him waiting for an answer, the clicking of your keyboard coming to a stop and only loudening the silence. Ghost could not remember the last time he had been to a hospital or even scheduled a visit. And as you looked at him, your eyes almost staring into his soul, still waiting for a response, he could not help but feel a tad bit embarrassed, as if you were judging him for not being a responsible adult. Also it didn't help that you were goddamn pretty.
"I'm gonna take that as a very long time, the last time being the prehistoric ages, correct?" There's the slightest hint of a tease in your voice.
"Uh.......yes ma'am." Ghost squints his eyes at you as you go back to typing on your keyboard. Did you just.............did you just call him…..He does not know how to feel about that. Did you just try to crack a joke? He always thought doctors were the serious type.
"Okay then." You straighten up, grabbing your sphygmomanometer off the table and turning yourself to face him. "Is it okay if I check your blood pressure?"
The man is stunned. No one has ever asked his permission for anything before. He's so used to either taking orders or giving orders that he doesn't know how to respond and stares at you for a moment, forcing his brain to process what to do next before eventually giving a nod.
"Is it okay if you take your jacket off so I can get a clearer reading?"
He nods again, still in shock as he takes off his jacket, leaving him in his black long sleeve thermal. He's almost thankful he wasn't in his full tactical gear, having to imagine you standing there waiting for him as he removes every single piece of equipment off his torso.
"Thank you." You give him a short smile, placing your hand under his tricep and gently lifting his arm in order to wrap the inflatable cuff around his bicep. You almost blush at the mere size of this man's arms. "Now you're just going to feel a slight pressure okay."
Ghost can't help but feel a slight warmth spread to his cheeks at the way you handle him with such care, as if he were the small delicate thing and not you. Now he knows why the others were so giddy after leaving your office.
As you place your stethoscope on his forearm near his elbow to listen to his blood pumping through the artery, your other hand pumping air into the cuff using the inflation bulb with your eyes glued to the numbers on the gauge, he can't help but to notice the old Donald Duck watch that sat at your wrist, the ones with the moving arms and the vintage style black leather straps.
And as he further investigated your attire, he noticed a few other details, like the colorful glittery badge reel in the shape of a pill container with the words "licensed drug dealer" printed on it that was attached to your scrub top, the glitter sticker with the words "I'm nicer than my face looks" as well a few Disney character stickers and the little frog looking keychain that hung off of your badge. He was wondering what the hell that thing was. Your accessories were awfully colorful for a general doctor. Something was telling him you either used to work with families or children. Whatever the hell managed to bring you to such a drastic change.
You brought him out of his thoughts as you shifted from your position, unwrapping the inflatable cuff from around his bicep and placing it back on the table before typing the results into your laptop. "Okay," You adjust the ear pieces of your stethoscope back into your ears as you turn back to him, "I'm going to perform some auscultations, which is just listening to the sounds of your heart and your lungs so if you could just sit up straight and relax that would be wonderful."
Simon straightens up his posture as you place your free hand on his shoulder, at this point you're not sure if you're steadying him or yourself, your fingertips just barely grazing across the bottom of his neck. He doesn't know why but, it's as if your fingers are directly touching the skin underneath, despite the fabric of his mask that separated your fingers from his skin. Your hands feels hot, like really hot and he has no clue why.
The soldier only feels his cheeks warm up even more so now as you inch closer to carefully place the diaphragm of your stethoscope on his chest, your head tilted and your eyes lowered to the floor as you listen for his heart beat. He gets a whiff of your perfume and he finds himself drawn to it. You smell like something along the lines of jasmine petals, geranium, myrrh, frankincense, and a hint of sandalwood. Now he definitely knows why the others are fawning over you. Poor Simon is praying you don't hear how his heart is nearly racing. He does not know why he is feeling this way and it slightly bothers him in the way that he has no clue what it is he is feeling.
He catches how your brows slightly furrow at the center and his heart skips a beat. Now he's fucking embarrassed and this man rarely ever is embarrassed. Maybe he's even starting to panic. Can you tell? Do you know? You open your mouth to say something but he quickly interrupts he just got back from a run so you dismiss it with a shrug, placing the diaphragm on his back now and asking him to give you a couple of deep breaths.
"Okay. Take a deep breathe in, breathe it out. Breathe in, and out."
He complies with your instructions, breathing in slow and deep breaths as you go from one side of his back to another.
"Good job." You remove the earpieces and let your stethoscope hang around your neck as you go back to your table, recording in more info. Hang on did you just, did you just tell a grown 6'4" man good job.
Even Simon is confused. Like bitch.
"Okay, so we're all done with that." You inform him, before going over to one of the drawers and sliding it open. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to have some blood work done on you, just to make sure there are no underlying issues that need to be taken care of."
Simon is silent so you turn to him. "Is that okay, Ghost, is that what the others call you? Would you like me to call you Ghost?"
Goddamn you're too polite. "That's fine by me ma'am."
"Perfect. Now is it okay if I take your blood sample?"
Ghost nods, so you grab the tools necessary and place them on the table next to you.
"Could you please roll your sleeve up and make a fist for me? Thank you." You ask him once you sanitize your hands and throw on a pair of fresh gloves. You grab the tourniquet and catch sight of the tattoos that cover his forearm as you tie the tourniquet around his arm above the elbow. You're curious to know the story behind them but you have a feeling he's not one for storytelling or just talking in general so you remain silent. You tear open the small packet of the alcohol wipe and apply it to the area. The chemical is cool against his skin as you sanitize the area before letting it air dry. Simon can't help but notice how small your hands are.
Simon watches you intently as you work, the way you are so focused and so precise with each step, and yet so gentle. It's almost cute.
"You're just going to feel a little pinch." You tell him in a soft tone, a tone you were used to using on all your little patients before inserting the needle into his vein. As if the man hasn't been shot or stabbed and god knows what multiple times before.
At this point Simon doesn't even notice the needle in his arm, he's too focused on the details of your face. He can sense that you're nervous around him and he feels bad. Even though he's just met you, the last thing he wants is for you to feel scared or unsafe around him. And even though this whole situation is awkward for him since he never was a fan of visiting the hospital, you're their physician, and at the end of the day you're there to patch them up. So he comments on your dark circles, thinking you haven't gotten any rest since you arrived here. "You look tired."
"............that's just my face." You give him that distinct smile, the same smile you have given anyone who ever commented on them as you connect the vacutainers to the needle to draw his blood, your eyes glued to the dark red liquid seeping through the thin clear tube before pouring into the sample tube.
If you thought it was quiet before, well you are most definitely wrong because the silence is absolutely deafening now.
Simon nearly punches himself for his stupidity. Why in the bloody hell did he say that of all things. He wanted to tell you he liked your dark circles but decided to bite his tongue instead. Now he's definitely not going to say another word. Better yet, once he leaves your office, he's not coming back. He's just going to avoid you at all costs in order to save both you and himself the embarrassment. He's willing to bet the others handled this way better than him.
"But I suppose I am a bit jet-lagged though. Haven't really gotten any rest since I got on that plane." You add. "I appreciate your concern."
You most definitely said that to make him feel better about himself, Simon thinks to himself as he stares at the wall and avoids your face. There was no other reason.
Once your done drawing his blood you ask him to hold the piece of cotton pad down onto where the needle was punctured as you open up the drawer where the gauze is located. "Do you have a favorite color?"
Did you just ask him his favorite color? Simon stares at you blankly. Were all doctors this odd?
"I'm guessing you like black?" You pull out the roll of black gauze, displaying it in front of you with the most deadpanned expression possible.
You've got jokes. Simon thinks to himself. If he had looked a little closer he would have noticed the ghost of a smirk on your lips.
"You should see the colors the others picked." You tease as you wrap the gauze around his arm at the elbow, making sure it isn't too tight but also not loose enough to the point where the cotton pad underneath slips out.
Simon narrows his eyes at you. Bloody fucking hell. The others picked a color?
You're pretty sure Gaz requested you get an Elmo print one he saw online once somewhere. Soap asked if there a print of the Scotland flag available. The look of hurt on his face when you said there wasn't so you improvised and gave him both the blue and white gauze. You gave him a Dum-Dum lollipop to make him feel better. The others may have also gotten a lollipop as they left your office, especially after seeing the special treatment that Soap received. Were they jealous? Maybe.
Once you tell the man he is all good to go and that you will call him once you're done getting the results from his blood sample, he nearly jumps out of the chair and bolts out of your office. He prays some unknown miracle happens and that his blood sample magically disappears so that he doesn't have to face you, firmly believing he insulted you and that you thought he called you ugly when that is not what he intended. I am telling you this man does not know how to compliment. They should make a guidebook for dummies specialized just for him.
You watch him disappear out your door with a quirked brow. Well that was fucking weird.
When Simon leaves the area he finds Soap lounging about on a chair with a sucker in his mouth.
"The hell is that?" Simon squints at the sergeant.
"Mph mph." Soap's voice comes out muffled.
"What?"
Soap pauses and turns to see Ghost looming over him. "It's a Dum-Dum."
"A fuckin what?"
"Y/n said they're called Dum-Dums." Soap pulls it out of his mouth, twisting the stick of the lollipop around in his fingers as if he were inspecting it. "This one's a cotton candy flavor."
"She gave you a fuckin lollie?"
"It's pure dead brilliant I tell ya. Why, did she not give ya one?"
More silence. Simon would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't a tad bit butthurt.
"Maybe you scared her." Soap jokes.
Simon lets out a grumbled incoherent huff and walks away.
Soap just shrugs and pops the lollipop back in his mouth.
Simon has a feeling he is going to go to bed thinking about his actions.
I FINALLY STARTED WRITING PART THREE OF AAA IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT i started my apps recently and i haven’t had the motivation to write at all BUT I FINALLY HAVE A STORYLINE IN MIND. also this will be the last part of aaa!!
