in which the men turn to the AITA subreddit for opinions on their relationship disputes. the comments aren't always the most...supportive
warnings: just fluff and crack, some cursing, some sexual language, prob not the most accurate depiction of reddit (I am not familiar with the platform so I did my best lol), non curse au mostly, NOT PROOFREAD (this was a pain to edit you don't even know so I don't want to hear it)
featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna
why is nanami your favourite? or better said, what makes him so perfect in your eyes?
Have you seen him?
Okay lmfao jokes aside
Beyond appearance, heâs just so relatable. He tried to leave the world that was eating up at him, tried to be ânormalâ and have a safe life. But he couldnât rest easy knowing that by being selfish (not a bad thing at all in this case) he was letting innocent people die in his place. So he returned, and put the life he wants on pause, knowing that every time he faced a curse he might never come back.
His gentleness is honestly what I love most about him. He talks to the girls so patiently, so respectfully. And the way he treats curses, doesnât toy with them, doesnât take pleasure in exorcising them knowing they were once human
Heâs a gentleman through and through
To maintain your good nature is honestly so impressive when weâve seen how sorcerers can be really bad people like Mei Mei, Geto, even Todoâs a pain in the ass
I feel so strongly about this man that I actually experienced grief when he died. Twice. In the manga and then in the anime. HE WANTED TO GO TO MALAYSIAAAAAA
synopsis: sent to get the scoop on a strange cult popping up in a small city near you, you're surprised to discover the (moth)man behind it has more than just charm hiding behind his sly smile. but debunking the local cryptid sightings will be harder than you thought when you're sharing a bed with him!
pairing: mothman!Geto x journalist!Reader
content: mdni, mystery and angst, reader is an investigative journalist, cult leader!geto in a different font lol, gojo being devious and deceptive, mentions of choking, being held hostage lol
"Looking for something?"
Fuck fuck fuck.
Panic seized in your chest, strangling your lungs despite your struggle to keep a straight face. Still on your knees, only wearing Suguru's robe as you slowly looked over your shoulder to see Satoru holding your phone. Leaning against the open door frame, a smirk curled up on his pink lips like he was repressing a laugh.
"My phone," You slowly said. "You wouldn't happen to know where it is?"
He seemed taller from here - imposing as he intently shut the door behind him and strolled over, cocking his head to the side. A couple days ago, you might've thought it was cute.
But his disguise was off. That charming, cheeky guy had given into a cold wall of ice. Something intangible was different, darker.
"Why?"
"I need to check in with my boss," You muttered, although you both knew it was bullshit.
He stepped closer while you scrambled to stand, pulling the robe around you tighter like it wouldn't be easy for him to peel off.
"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow, and the flicker of amusement shining in his blue eyes let you know he knew. It was too late. "Or you just wanna see if that background check he ran on me came back clean?"
Your lips parted, but you couldn't bring yourself to protest.
"I"m squeaky, baby," he hummed, slipping your phone out from his pocket just to show you he had it before shoving it back. Taunting you.
The little game you'd been playing here, rooting through a garden to see what plants were sprouting had turned up bones.
"Why are you here?" You whispered, stepping back just for your back to press against the hard, cold filing cabinet. Who the fuck was he?
"Same reason you are."
You couldn't begin to guess what that meant. You were here for your story. What that might mean to him, acclaim or appreciation or attention, maybe, you weren't sure.
Searching for something more. Rather, to make more for yourself.
His sharp eyes squinted, laughing out loud this time before his stare shifting back towards the door like he heard something you couldn't. Then his focus was back on you, cold and cruel.
You didn't need the background check to know he was dangerous. But you hated not knowing precisely what you were dealing with - especially when you had a feeling it would fill in the blanks. But Satoru had surely deleted it by now. Scrubbed it from anything you could find without leaving.
And if you left, then you'd basically be offering yourself up to Sukuna.
"Suguru's coming," he warned, and you felt the threat underneath it. If it came down to it, who would he believe if you tried to snitch? The girl that he slept with once? Or the his second-in-command? "Play nice."
You started to shake your head, to tell him that he was insane for thinking you would just go along with whatever narrative he'd like to sell.
"Unless you want that little video of you two out there."
Prick couldn't cover it.
And you were pretty sure he'd do it too.
Recording had been hot in the moment. But now that the sun had risen, now that you were reminded just how alone you were, it was just terrifying. It would destroy your credibility. Sure, it might get dismissed as a hoax. But it would wreck the story you'd sunk yourself into here anyway. Reveal where you were - and who you were with - to Sukuna.
You supposed the real question here was, who were you more scared of? The white-haired dickhead trying to what, blackmail you? Or the scarred asshole who would probably prefer to see you beheaded?
The door opened, and you held your breath.
Acutely aware of how you were positioned, pressed against the filing cabinet with his best friend too close right as Suguru walked in, worried about what assumption he would reach.
His antennas twitched.
Nose tilted up, mouth forming a grimace as his hypnotizing stare shifted from you to him then back to you.
"Mornin'," Satoru smirked, like nothing had happened. All chirpy and cheerful, letting his hand drift over your arm before he actually took a away from you.
You didn't miss the fact you were still within his reach.
"What's going on?" Suguru asked, obviously sensing something was wrong, but not avoiding addressing it.
"Caught our guest trying to get her stuff back," He chuckled, leaning down to ruffle your hair. You almost recoiled, forcing yourself to make a neutral face, not sure which he expected from you.
Suguru was looking at you, and you couldn't meet his eyes.
"Why?" He bluntly asked. You stared at his desk instead of him. Pushing your lips together while you tried to work out what to say, before you reluctantly landed on something that was a half-truth. About to tell him that you were supposed to contact your boss, but Satoru decided to speak for you.
"She was trying to leave," Satoru replied, and you didn't even get the chance to properly protest before you felt Suguru's disappointment. Like some physical illness, squeezing all your organs, twisting and turning them upside down as you searched your suddenly blank mind. "Got what she was looking for after all."
He was trying to say you just used Suguru. That you were slimy enough to sneak out in the morning after you had sex with him. Probably implying that you got the answers you talked about before solely through snooping.
You could feel the trust you'd slowly been building together starting to crack, lines spreading across the top and threatening to shatter.
"That's-"
It was like Suguru didn't hear you.
He was still staring at Satoru, like he could see something you didn't in those strange blue eyes of his.
"You're sure?" He said, and you guessed you were right. His faith in his friend ran deeper than his interest in you.
"I wasn't going to leave," You quietly argued, slipping in before Satoru could pipe back up. Your voice was weak, frustration filtering in as you struggled to sound anything other than small. "I promise, I just-"
You could see it in his face that Suguru wanted to believe you. The way his sharp features softened just enough to show his hesitation, but he was holding back. One of his wings fluttered, feathers shifting as his dark stare dragged back over you.
"What were you doing in here?" Suguru soberly said.
"I need my phone," You mumbled. You sounded guilty. You knew it, had conducted enough interview and talked to enough people on trial to pick up on the little things that incriminated someone - even when they were innocent.
"For what?" He followed up, his tight frown just making your fears run even more rampant.
"I'm expecting to hear from my boss today," You answered, and Suguru didn't reply immediately. Just watched you like he could discern what you weren't telling him.
"You could've asked me," He pointed out.
"You weren't there," You reminded him, heat creeping up your neck at the reminder that even after last night, after he let you see him, let you touch him, he still left you there.
"I think she's a liability," Satoru interrupted again.
"What exactly do you suggest we do?" Suguru was being sarcastic, but when you glanced over to Satoru, he was clearly hoping he'd ask something like that.
"Keep her downstairs for a couple days," Satoru said, only pulling back when he saw the way his friend flinched at the idea of keeping you as a hostage. Even if that's what you started here as. "Or her room. Just until we sort out what she knows."
You thought Suguru would say no.
But you were wrong about him too.
He let Satoru take you back, let him lock you up. You tried to stop it, tried to stammer and stumble through reasons not to, wondering how the hell it had gotten so screwed up since you woke up.
At least it was your room instead of downstairs.
"You can't just keep me in here," You huffed, hitting the door until your knuckles were sore. Satoru laughed on the other side of it, making it clear he would and could.
"Boss's orders."
Bullshit.
He was the one that came up with the idiotic idea.
You were fuming, the anger turning into a hot ball choking you up, making it hard for you to think, to form something coherent.
"What did I do to you?"
"To me?" He chuckled. "Nothing."
"Then-"
"It must be frustrating to look for information in all the wrong places," He dryly mocked, and you wanted to scream at him. To call him an asshole and a prick and far more names you might get punished for.
"Why don't you direct me to the right ones?" You hissed back, as hateful as you could muster.
"I made you an offer," He reminded you, and you wondered if this was all because you rejected him - or if he was going to pull this shit anyway. You leaned towards the latter, if only by how bitter he sounded. It was a bit vague, distant.
"I made you one too," You sharply replied. "But I didn't try to ruin-"
"How can I ruin what was already doomed?" Satoru snorted.
"Go fuck yourself," You snarled back, molars grinding as you looked around the small room you figured you'd be confined in for at least a couple days until you could convince Suguru that Satoru was trying to splinter the two of you for whatever reason.
Although part of you was itching to know why, to understand what made him tick and take him apart so you could write it all down.
He made a small sound, another detail you couldn't decipher.
"Why are you doing this?" You asked, even when you doubted he'd give you what you wanted to know. "Suguru's supposed to be your-"
"Leader?" Satoru scoffed. As if it was absurd. More like jealous, a jagged edge cutting into you. "Friend?"
You paused, heart stalling as you struggled to find something smart to say. To cling to your intelligence instead of being a coward.
"No," He kept talking, his voice cutting into you even when a door separated you. "I'm just a lapdog, remember?"
Was Satoru always like this? Had he always felt this way?
Resentment curdling in his stomach, simmering under the surface and strangling him over time, until he couldn't breathe anymore. Until he was a shell of the guy he used to be, plastering on a mask everyone else was too blind to see here.
"You could tell me your side," You offered, resting your cheek on the door despite how little you truly trusted him. He had never been some puppy, seeking attention or affection.
If anything, you were pretty sure he'd give you rabies if he could.
"Tell me your story." You continued, still fighting for self-preservation despite the pervading sense of something still off. "I'll-"
"Don't bother."
For a guy who hardly ever kept his mouth closed, he shut up the one time you wished he wouldn't. Walked away from you with heavy footsteps.
Despite your best attempts to pick the lock on the door this time, it wouldn't budge. Had no give, even when you rammed your shoulder against it or tried to kick at it the knob.
You gave up after an hour.
Laid flat in the bed and stared up at the ceiling after you took catalogue of what you had in your dressers and drawers, pretty much just clothes and some papers left. A single pen that barely worked.
Not exactly anything helpful.
You didn't mean to fall asleep - not when it was still daytime. Dreaming that Suguru would come back, that he'd let you explain, where that annoying, grating, friend of his wouldn't be able to butt in.
He would understand. Soothe you like he did after your nightmare. Rub your shoulders and kiss your head and whisper in that pretty voice of his that it would be alright. Go back to pretending you were both normal.
You were barely conscious when your door creaked open, still clawing onto soft pretty images drifting by of warm hands holding onto you to notice the man entering your room until familiar fingers wrapped around your throat.
Eyes flying open, sucking in air as all the sounds you tried to make were snuffed out, grabbing a tattooed wrist.
"Don't break her," Satoru snickered, his voice barely registering in your foggy mind.
"Don't tell me what to do," Sukuna snapped back, amusement etched in every harsh line of his face. Set in that crude smirk of his, entertained by your attempts to pry his hand away from your neck.
What had Satoru said earlier?
Boss's orders?
You were right he was a lapdog. You just hadn't realized whose.
Sukuna had found you, after all. Or maybe this had all been set up from the start - and you'd just been sitting pretty while you played another one of his petty games.
im so fucking nervous for the entrance exam like what if i dont get accepted? what now? one of the reasons why i wanted to go to a univ thats far away from home BECAUSE ITS FAR AWAY FROM HOME and IF i do get accepted WHAT IF I DON'T GET A SCHOLARSHIP??? like bru my broke ass cannot afford the tuition. Im getting so nervous i wanna throw up
ugh im dreading when he gets home tn cause imma stop him in the doorway and suck the soul out of his ugly fat cock.
he's gonna stuff my mouth full until he's in my tonsils and im ugly gaggingâdripping spiddle down the length of his ugly schlong like im on some sukihana time.
all before imma swallow all that man's ugly ass kids to the very last drop.
then imma push him down and stick my tongue up his ugly phat ass swirling it around while juggling his large ugly balls.
ugly toji is going to let out such an ugly moan when i edge him thoâsqueezing his ugly girth at the baseâpreventing his release.
but that's because i can't let all that ugly ass cum ruin my sheets.
hell naw! ugly toji gotta dump it all in me!
he's an ugly feral beast pumping my womb full of his ugly ass cum over n' over n' over. so thats why we gonna ugly fuck all nite on top of a ugly ass pile of money until this man has me ugly crying while begging for more multiple ugly ass orgasms.
ugly toji's stamina is so high and he's gonna fuck my sloppy pussy so for so longâmolding into the shape of his ugly ass girth until pass out from getting my guts shaken repeatedly by his ugly bulbous cockhead reaching into my kidneys.
finally he gonna keep his ugly thick dick inside me all fucking night, plugging me up so there's an ugly ass trail of spunk running down my legs all day tomorrowâ
as a reminder to u and everyone else that he's MY ugly ass man.
yeah nonny u clocked us bad, oops! this is embarrassing for me, truly...
is it just me but why does alcohol taste 10x worse for me? LIKE IVE SEEN MY FRIENDS DRINKING IT LIKE IT WAS NOTHING TO THEM but when i tried it i felt like puking, i dont really drink alcohol so maybe thats the reason why
an. will update this between other works, first 4 chapters are already done though. ;)
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summary â when the world's most brilliant researcher dies in a freak accident, you refuse to accept it as the end. using the resurrection technology you developed together, you set out to finish his life's work, and accomplish the impossible: bringing Gojo Satoru back from the dead. but love and science make dangerous companions, and some boundaries exist for a reason.
word count â 9.9k
content warning + tags â MDNI 18+ ONLY, fem reader, modern sci-fi au, heavy angst, plot with smut, obsession, death, grief, resurrection, pseudo science, some crazy technology, satoru being innapropriate at the worst times
a/n â for @sweethearticism's brutal bakery event â„ïž â„ïž â„ïž
halloween's over, and as always, my tardy ass is late to the party TáŽT but here it is, my version of frankenjo that wouldn't leave me alone. this is a modern interpretation and very loosely inspired by the actual frankenstein. i hope you enjoy it ⥠㹠art: @ _3aem (x), divider: @ saradika-graphics
A storm engulfed the world outside, but inside the research centre, the silence was louder. As loud as the stillness of Satoruâs body, cold and stiff, lying on a metal slab.Â
Youâd lost count of the hours, the days, the weeks. All you knew was that when the alarm rang, you had to return him to the cryochamber, because keeping him out for too long would trigger the decomposition.
But todayâtoday you were going to change that.Â
Today, he would no longer be dead.Â
Even now, your life still revolved around him. You would have it no other way. Even now, when he had no air in his lungs, no rise and fall of the once warm chest you used to lay your head on every night, listening to the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat as you listened to his voice prattle on and on about his latest discoveries like a bedtime story⊠you still heard him in your head.
âCan you imagine it, baby? The shock of the entire medical industryâno, life itselfâwhen we finally crack the code?â Youâd hear his excitement in the darkness of your bedroom. His endless blue eyes steeped with unquenchable passion. âThose narrow-minded dimwits on the board might call us crazy now, but weâll show them, wonât we? Soon, theyâll be singing a different tune.â
âWe?â
âOf course, baby.â The glow of the bedside lamp would catch in his eyes. A glint that never failed to mesmerise you. âWe. Us. Me and you. It wonât feel as good sticking it to them without you by my side.â
âBut this is your lifeâs work, Toru. Iâm just your assistant. I canât possibly take the same amount of credit.â
âItâs ours,â heâd said firmly, kissing your head as if he was sealing his words in stone. âEverything of mine is yours, if not officially now, then it will be soon. Why do you think Iâm marrying you?â
âBecause you always forget to eat unless I remind you.â
âThatâs because I canât live without you. I thought weâd established that fact.â
Youâd smiled and snuggled into him. âWell, Iâm not going anywhere.â
âGood,â heâd said, wrapping you closer in his arms, his scent. âBecause neither am I.â
But he did. Heâd gone and died.
And now you would fix him.
This was not âThe Endâ.
Gently, you smoothed back the wisps of snowy white hair from his face. Your fingers traced his brows, his temple, along his jaw, brushing the pale, grey lips that used to press against yours not so long ago. Your gaze moved first before your hand, to the fine stitches down his chest, circling his right arm, raised slightly against the skin across the width of his stomachâa perfect split, and a reminder of the state heâd been in before youâd patched him upâ
In pieces.Â
You smacked the image away. There was nothing left in you to hurl out, but you refused to remember him that way. Your Satoru was too brilliant, too full of light, too alive. He was too beautiful to be fleeting. Too precious to be taken away so brutally.
And he was yours. He still was.Â
You heard the staccato beep of an access card tapping in, the door sliding swiftly open. A pair of shoes clacked against the tiles. You didnât turn around.Â
âItâs time, doc.â The voice belonged to Shoko, your former colleague before you inherited the research centre Satoru left you in his will. âTheyâre waiting for you to do the final checks.â
You nodded once, your gaze still fixed on Satoru. You should be excited. This was it. You were going to revive him. You should move. Get him to the Infinity Chamber immediately.
But your feet stayed rooted to the floor.Â
You felt Shoko come up beside you. The room was soundless for a few seconds.
âHe looks good, doc. Your suturing is impeccable. Itâs lucky his brain wasnât damaged and all the injuries are neck-down. Cell and nerve therapy was a bitch, but I donât think weâll stand a chance if we have to replace brain matter.â
âIt has to be his brain,â you said. âHe wouldnât be him if it wasnât. And I wouldâve found a way.â
âMmm,â was all Shoko replied. You knew what she was thinking. You knew what they all thought but didnât have the heart to say aloud in front of you.Â
That you were delusional. That despite shutting down every research arm except those that benefited your cause, despite stripping the centre down of non-essential staff and resources, and pouring the entire budget into speed funding Satoruâs wildly controversial Theory of Resurrectionâhis lifeâs workâthe chances of success was next to none.
And if it didnât work, then that was it. You would have destroyed the Gojo familyâs legacy. The board would kick you out and sell the centre. It was a miracle they had agreed to this in the first place. You supposed you had Sukuna to thank for that extra vote, though the man was a cunning bastard, so you were sure his motives were not completely altruistic.Â
Youâd calculated the odds. There was a six percent chance this would work. Only six. All for today. All for him.
Eh, better than five, Satoruâs voice spoke in your head. You clutched onto the sound, but it was like chasing a ghost. A blink, and it was gone.
A water bottle appeared in your vision.
âDrink,â said Shoko.Â
âIâm fine.â
âOf course you are. Youâre also living in hell, and I guarantee you wonât find him there.â She pressed the bottle into your hands. âSo youâre going to drink this, and youâre going to wheel him out of this room. Youâre going to put him into that chamber, and youâre going to face the fact that it might not work. But Iâll tell you somethingâstaring at his corpse for five more minutes isnât going to bring him back.â
Your lips pressed into a tight line. âHow many?â
âAll of them,â confirmed Shoko. âEvery board member, not just Sukuna. Arrived some time ago. And ah⊠Fushiguro Megumi is here too.â
Fuck.
âI see,â you said, keeping your tone steady. âIâgive me a moment. I wonât be long.â
A beat, and then Shoko was retreating. You waited for the sliding doors to seal shut before reaching into the pocket of your lab coat. Your gaze hadnât wavered from Satoru this whole time, and it still didnât as you let the water bottle fall on the floor with a loud thud.
âHey baby,â you whispered, taking his hand in yours. Like reflex, you waited for his fingers to curl around yours. For his thumb to brush lightly along your knuckles. And when nothing happened, you stroked his instead. âSo, here we are. You couldâve made it easier if youâd sorted out all your files like I told you to. And didnât I say making my birthday your password was too obvious? Anyone wouldâve guessed that and you know it.â
A distant chuckle echoed somewhere in your head.Â
âI wish you could see it,â you continued. Paused. âI mean, you will. When you wake up, youâll see I did everything according to your specifications. No deviations. No variables. Itâs all your design, down to the last decimal. Itâs all you, Toru. It will be all of you⊠youâll be you again.â
You lifted his hand, your other holding the ring youâd been carrying around in your coat pocket for what felt like an eternity, and slipped it onto his fourth finger. A simple platinum band, matching with the one you wore. Youâd picked it out together during an extended lunch break a month before the wedding.
You squeezed his hand, and bent down to press your lips against his.Â
âIâll see you soon.â
Thirty three weeks agoâŠ
âDeath is a process, not a moment. But you already know that.â
You groaned. âSatoru, itâs two in the morning. The wedding is in fifteen hours. We should get some sleep before checking into the hotel.â
âJust humour me for a bit, baby. I think Iâm onto something.â Satoru was already hopping out of bed. He flicked on the lights without warning, temporarily blinding you, and was rolling the whiteboard to the foot of the bed by the time your vision recovered.Â
You stared at him, shirtless and in a pair of checkered pyjama pants, as he uncapped the marker pen, his blue eyes wide awake and bright with that unrivalled ambition you envied and loved.
You sighed and shifted to sit up against the pillows. âAlright, make it quick. I donât want to walk down the aisle with bags under my eyes.â
âIâll still think youâre the most beautiful person in the world.â
You couldnât help the skipped beat in your chest, or the smile that appeared on your lips. âYou want to keep the compliments coming, or tell me your theory?â
âBaby, you underestimate me. I can do both at the same time, and then some more.â Satoru winked, and began sketching.
You watched as Satoru filled the whiteboard with diagrams, his hand moving like an artist with a brush. Sometimes, you swore you saw equations flying out his head, faster than the average human could comprehend. His mind was a marvel, his face was a dream. He was your dream.
The dream you couldnât wait to spend the rest of your days with.Â
"The key isn't preventing death,â Satoru was saying. âIt's reversing it. Death is a cascadeâcellular processes shutting down in sequence. If we can interrupt that cascade, reset the cells' programmed death response, we can bring them back online."
âYes, itâs the basis of your entire research,â you said. âInterrupt cell degradation. Reverse. Reconstruct. Rehabilitate. Regenerate. The Four Râs, as you like to remind everyone. Itâs why weâre building that machine in the first placeââ
âChamber, darling. Not machine. Sounds better.â
âBut why are you repeating this?â
âBecause, my gorgeous soon-to-be wife, I just realised weâre missing an important ingredient.â Satoru proceeded to draw a big question mark and circled it. âWe can revive a body, but what of the soul?â
You lifted a brow. Since when was he suddenly concerned with the spiritual side of things? âYouâre going to have to elaborate, Toru.â
âThink about it, baby. Why am I so madly in love with you?â Satoru grinned. âWhy do I look at you now and think I want nothing better than to take your clothes off? Why do I want to fuck no one else but you?â
Heat prickled up your neck. But you said, âItâs the logic your brain comprehends, as unromantic as it sounds.â
âExactly. Itâs brain chemistry.â Satoru flung the marker pen aside and in the next moment, he was climbing on the bed, and on top of you. âThe soul is tied to the brain.â
His head lowered, lips brushing against yours.
âFeel that?â he murmured. âDo you like that?â
You melted under his gaze.
âYes,â you breathed.
Then he was ripping the blanket away. His hands slid underneath the oversized shirt you wore, up and up and peeling it off you, leaving you in nothing but your panties.
âWhat about this?â His fingers dragged up the middle of your torso, tracing the underside of your breasts. He began drawing slow circles around your nipple.
You arched into his touch. âYesâŠâ
His mouth caught a nipple, and he began sucking. Flicking. His tongue and teeth playing with you until little moans escaped you. âAnd what about now, baby?â
âNghâget to your pointâŠâ
A chuckle. âConsciousness,â Satoru said, as his hand travelled down your stomach, down between your thighs, and with two fingers, began stroking you over your already soaked panties. âOur brains are what shapes our souls. What allows us memory and complex emotions. We can revive a body, but without a soul, without consciousness, the body would be human in appearance but not in essence.â
Your moans grew louder when his fingers slipped underneath your panties, sliding right up the middle of all your aching wetness. Your legs parted wide to give him more access.
âPleasureâŠâ Satoru murmured, his mouth and tongue working up the curve of your neck as his fingers caught your clit, and pinched it.
âAhn! Toruâtake it offâŠâ
His tongue had reached its way along the shell of your ear, but his fingers remained, holding your clit hostage.
âPatience, baby. Iâm not yet done with my demonstration,â he teased, then did the most wicked thing, and began rolling your tight little nub between his fingers. Slowly. So, so slowly.
âOh myâŠâ Your head tipped back against the pillows. You tried to grab hold of Satoru, but he only pinned down your wrists above your head with his free hand.Â
âGod,â he finished what you couldnât, âwhy do I always go crazy for you like this? Why are you enjoying what Iâm doing as much as you do now? Tell me, baby.â
âBecauseânghh! Because itâs you⊠because I only want you, ToruâŠâ
âAnd I, you, my love,â he said against your lips, in a tone so tender and reassuring there was no room for doubt, before finally plunging two fingers inside you, pumping deep. âWhich brings me back to my point. You love it when I fuck you like this because itâs me. Because of all the memories you have of me. Because of what you feel for me. This is what your brain has decided, and because the brain is connected to the soul, one cannot be brought back without the other.â
Somewhere in between, heâd added another finger, making it nearly impossible for you to concentrate on what he was saying. In this moment, with him rocking inside you, hitting you over and over again in that terribly sensitive spot, driving you insane, Satoru couldâve been reciting the ABCs and you still wouldnât have understood much.
âT-toruâŠpleaseââ
âAlmost, baby. Did you forget about my cock?â His fingers ceased its sweet torture, slipping out. The sudden lack of him jarred you, but you could only whimper out a plea.
In one easy motion, Satoru flipped you around and was yanking off your panties. Warm, solid hands palmed your ass, lifted your hips high, exposing all the slick evidence dripping down your inner thighs.Â
Satoru swore under his breath. âFuck, look at you. If this is the last thing I see before I die, then Iâll die happy.â
Your thoughts shattered as you felt the warm press of his tongue. Satoru licked you clean. Licked up all that wetness leaking down your thighs. Then he licked you thereâa single stroke, deep and slow, up your melting core, before narrowing on your dangerously sensitive clit, flicking and sucking and making you lose your mind.Â
Satoru let you come like this firstâon his tongue. With your face buried in the pillows and his buried in your pussy. Your legs were still trembling when you felt his impressive length, rock hard, rubbing against your folds, making you go wet all over again.Â
âYes or no, baby?â he asked, though it was pointless. He already knew what your answer would be.
You mumbled something unintelligent, but wiggled your hips for emphasis. Then felt his tip nudge at your entrance.Â
âWhich brings us back to the missing ingredient,â Satoru said, and a loud moan escaped you as he sheathed the full length of him inside you. He was so impossibly hard and thick, you were struggling to even clench around him. âWeâve only taken four Râs into consideration, when thereâs actually a fifth⊠Resurrection.â
He pulled out, almost to the tip, and slammed back into you. Hard. Fast. Then he did it again, and again, and again. And each time he did it, you felt like youâd died and came back to life.Â
âBecause a soul canât be regenerated,â Satoru continued as his pace increased rapidly, ruining your mind and your insides at the same time. âSo, in essence, our theory is not about reversing death. Itâs about resurrecting the whole self. All the intangibles that make usâfuck, baby, youâre so tight. Youâre choking my cock.â
âS-SatoruâŠâ
âMm?â
âMore⊠HarderâŠâ
âGod, I canât believe I get to have you like this forever.â Satoru did as you asked, fucking you until your cries drowned out the erratic thumping of the bedhead against the wall. Until you could no longer close your mouth. Until nothing existed save the feel of him pumping deep inside youâŠ
The way he filled you so completely, so perfectly⊠it was everything.
He was everything.
Stars exploded in your vision. Your climax came in swift, escalating waves, overwhelming you.
You cried out his name, and it was only then that Satoru finally gave in, driving right over the edge along with you. You felt himâall of himâspilling into you. Heard his deep, unrestrained groan as he spent himself inside you before falling on the bed, half his body still draped on top of you.Â
Satoruâs mouth found yours, his tongue sweeping in and pampering you with gentle strokes while his fingers danced slow, playful circles down your spine. He grinned against your lips. âHow was that, baby?â
You were still out of breath. âI think you know the answer.â
So you told him the truth. âYouâre incredible, Satoru.â
The smile he gave you then⊠you could look at that smile a billion times and still melt from it. âI hope you mean both the sex and my theory.âÂ
You sighed, knowing exactly where he was going with this. âAlright, five minutes. Then Iâm really going to sleep, promise?â
He laughed and kissed your forehead. âAs you wish, my love.â
âWell, for starters, youâre talking about preserving brain activityâcore consciousnessâafter death, not only on a cellular level. Thatâs notoriously tricky. Impossible, some might say, but I know you hate that wordââ
âMost things are not impossible, merely improbable.â
âBut brain function is quickest to deteriorate, so youâll have to find a way toââ
âWe, darling,â Satoru corrected.Â
You couldnât help your smile. âRight, so we will have to find a way to prevent core consciousness from ceasing to exist the moment the heart stops beating⊠save the soul, as you say, from extinction.â You tapped your chin, your mind whirring as his fingers continued their light tracing along the contours of your body. You didnât doubt Satoru had already found the answer, but you loved him all the more for letting you figure it out on your own, even if he wasnât letting you sleep. âThe difficult part is the time constraint, unless we freeze the brain. We already have the cryogenic technology for thatâŠâ
âBut?â Satoru looked at you with hopeful eyes.
âBut the soul isnât cellular. Itâs immaterial.â
His answering grin told you that you were close.
âEven if we do bring back consciousness, we donât want it to be a blank slate,â you continued. âWe want it the way it was before death. We want to retain memoryâŠâ It hit you then. Your eyes widened at Satoru. âSo we back it up. We copy neural activity in the brain before it dies and upload it back in later.â
Satoru leaned in, and pecked your lips as reward. âBy the way, have I told you Iâm crazy for you?â
You laughed. âEveryday. Donât stop.â
âOh, as if I will,â he said, pulling you in for yet another kiss. âYouâre stuck with me for the indefinite future, baby. Youâll soon get sick of hearing it, but Iâll continue saying it anyway.â
You reached for his beautiful face.
âNever,â you said.
Satoruâs smile was tender. âIâll hold you to that.â He kissed your palm, your lips again, and then he was pulling away to slip out of bed.Â
Your brows furrowed. âI thought you promised we were going to sleep?â
âHuh? I thought you were going to sleep.â He was already pulling open the dresser drawer. âIâm going to the lab. Donât wait up for me, okay baby?â
 âWhat? Are you serious?â You sat up straight now, back stiff. âSatoru, you have a wedding to attend. Our wedding. Canât whatever it is you want to do wait for just one day?â
âIâll meet you at the hotel. I need to make some new adjustments to the chamber. Iâm thinking of calling it the Infinity Chamber. Has a nice, ring to it, no? Infinite life. Infinite time. Very mythicalââ
âSatoru, donât,â you warned. âJust forget about work for twenty four hours. Thatâs all Iâm asking for. Please.â
âBaby, you know itâs not just work to me.â
âThen what am I? Just some girl youâre marrying?â
His hand paused midway to his backpack on the armchair. Satoruâs gaze found yours across the room.
âIs that what you think?â he said, his tone gentle but serious. âBecause to me, youâre my equal. In every measure.â
âSatoru, donât you dare walk out that door. Iâll kill you.â
âBaby, we both know you wonât.â
âWanna bet?â
âThen Iâll win,â he said.
âDonât be so sure.â
âWell, I am. Iâll win because youâll let me. Because you love me.â
He winked, and blew you a final kiss.
And then he was gone.Â
Satoru never turned up at the hotel. Youâd waited at the lobby for an hour, and when he hadnât answered your call for the sixteenth time, you went to check in to the suite you thought youâd be stepping in together with him.Â
As the hours until the wedding drew closer and closer, youâd finally hit the last straw of your patience and sent Suguru to the research centre to drag Satoru over. It didnât matter if you had to marry him in his lab coat. It was better than marrying his ghost.
The call came thirty minutes before it was time for you to walk down the aisle. The guests had arrived. White roses covered every surface of the ceremony hall. You were in your gown, veil draped over your head, chewing on your lip when Suguruâs name flashed on your phone.Â
Youâd laughed first. Youâd thought it was a joke. A bad one. Suguru had to repeat it three times before you were running to your car.
But still, you didnât believe him. Not until you reached the lab. Not until you saw Satoru.Â
Theyâd categorised it as an accident. The security cameras confirmed Satoru had been alone. Youâd seen the time stamp. It happened while you were sleeping. Heâd forgotten to turn off the main power, and was ripping out some components from the cryochamber, presumably to move to his new Infinity Chamber, when the door malfunctioned, and sealed him inside.
Hours. Satoru had been stuck in there for hours. In a temperature of minus two hundred degrees celsius, slowly freezing. His blood solidifyingâŠ
And like brittle ice, he simply broke apart.
As with every task that involved touching Satoru, you were the one who performed it. The human mind was fallible, so it was natural for them to make mistakes, but you less than others. Satoru was unmatched, of course, but since he was out of commission for the time being, the next best person you trusted was yourself.
You were not unaware that Shoko and the team, as well as every board member, had their eyes on you the moment you wheeled Satoru into the Infinity Chamberâmore a tall, circular room that resembled the inside of a silo, with large lamps fixed onto the generous, three-storey high ceiling, clinical light glaring down as rigid and impersonal as the spectators watching you from above, shielded behind a circumference of glass.Â
Well, you supposed âimpersonalâ was being unkind to your team. Suguru was Satoruâs best friend, after all. Correctionâhe is. Perhaps unforgiving was a better word. Theyâd understood why youâd put all of their jobs and livelihoods on the line for this, but it didnât mean they would forgive you for it.Â
And then there was the boy. Megumi. You could practically feel his gaze burning into your back as you hooked up the last of the dozens of tubes connecting Satoru to the walls of the Infinity Chamber itself, because that was what this room wasâone giant machine built to execute the last of Satoruâs âFive Râ Principle:Â
Resurrect.
You checked the tubes again, checked the wires, checked the position of the helmet fastened over Satoruâs head, then checked everything again before finally forcing yourself not to prolong this any further. You hated leaving Satoru alone, but you needed to be in the control room, and no one could be in the chamber while the procedure was taking place unless they enjoyed being electrocuted.
You went through a steel inforced door that took you up a set of winding stairs straight to the control room, where the chatter immediately died a quick death the moment you stepped in.Â
No doubt they had been discussing you. Not like you gave a shit. You were used to it by nowâthe whispers behind your back, the glances shot your way when they thought you werenât looking. The furrowed brows and downturned lips, and perhaps worst of all, the knowledge that none of it was out of hate but pity.Â
âDoc,â Shoko nodded in greeting, the others mimicking her gesture, albeit in silence. âAll screens are live. Perfusion system is loading, should be ready to go in three minutes.â
You turned to Suguru, who was positioned in front of a wide monitor, the screen filled with lines and lines of ever-shifting numbers. You asked him the same question you did everyday.
âHowâs it reading?â
And Suguru answered you as how he always did. Calmly. A little bleak. âWeâre still at a 0.0000033 percent loss. Nothingâs changed since the soul mapping. The system shows his neural patterns are still processing information at an unnaturally high efficiency. His consciousness is more than active, doc. Itâs fully functioning, fully realisedâitâs like Satoru canât shut up in there. Typical of him, I guess.â
âWe should have just made him a new body,â Nanami remarked from where he stood monitoring the blood tanks. âBy my calculations, it would have lowered the risks by precisely sixteen more percent.â
âYeah, but then weâre wasting the original body,â Haibara pointed out. âWe canât just throw him outââ
âWeâre already copying his brain. I donât see whatâs theââ Nanami cut himself off, glancing for half a second in your direction. He cleared his throat. âItâs done anyway. The best course now is to proceed as is.â
Itâs all noise, baby. Block it out. Satoru spoke in your head. You have me.Â
Without thinking, you walked over to the wall of thick glass. Below, Satoru lay unmoving, in the exact same position as when youâd left him. You couldnât explain it, but even now, a tiny, microscopic part of you still thought he might just wake up on his own. As if heâd merely decided to take a very, very long nap. It was ludicrous since you were the one who had put his body back together. But when it came to Satoru, your own brain tended to override most rhyme and reason.
âEverythingâs good to go,â said Shoko, pulling you from your thoughts. âWant to do the honours, doc?â
Your gaze narrowed on the small green button raised against the main control panel. You approached it, reaching out a hand, fingers hovering.Â
You think I canât do it, baby?
I think you can do anything, Toru.
Do you doubt me?
Never
âNever,â you whispered, and pushed the button.
It was as if the chamber itself had come to life. The great whir of a beastly machine waking up from an eternal slumber. Invisible currents coursed through the air inside the cylindrical shaft where Satoru lay alone, hooked up to the tubes that were now pumping synthetic blood into his body. You thought you saw him twitch. You blinked. It was just electricity. But thenâ
âDocââ It was Shoko, her tone uncharacteristically shaken. âPeripheral nerve activity detected. We're seeing reflex responses. His motor neurons are firing."
âPerfusion efficiency at ninety-two percentâŠninety-threeâŠninety-eight...â Nanami added, similarly unable to hide his surprise. âCapillary beds are accepting the new blood flow. Oxygen saturation levels are rising steadily. No adverse reactions detected. This is⊠unprecedented.â
âAh, guysâŠâ Haibara announced. âThe ECG just detected a heartbeat.â
Your breaths stilled.
âFuck me.â Suguru jolted from his seat. âDoc, you should come see thisâall of you should see this. The upload⊠it's working. His consciousness is downloading into the biological brain. Neural pattern fidelity is nearly perfect. I'm seeing unified brain activity. He's not just alive. He's conscious. Heâs⊠heâs coming backââ
But while everyone rushed to Suguruâs monitor, your feet were moving in a different direction. In the next moment, you were flying back down the stairs and slamming through the door into the Infinity Chamber.Â
And just as your gaze snapped to his body on the metal slabâ
At the same time, a voice came through the chamberâs speakers.
âOh my fucking god, Satoru. Are you serious? Of all the times, nowâs not it.â
âSuguru? That you? Tchâsome friend you are.â Thirty three weeks of stillness, but now Satoru was tipping his head up at the control room. âIf youâd just answered when I called you, then I wouldnât have turned into a block of ice, would I? Because I wouldâve forced you to come to the lab.â
âSo you do remember dying?â It was Shoko this time.Â
âI remember freezing my ass off with no way out of that bloody cryochamber. Doesnât take a genius to know what came next.â
âThatâs a ninety nine percent memory retainment.â Shoko gave a low whistle. âImpressive work, doc. You did it.â
âOf course she did. Sheâs myââ Satoru paused, his gaze finding yours again. âFuuuuck⊠baby, Iâm sorry. I missed the wedding, didnât I?â
You didnât answer him. It was as if your mind had glitched while trying to process if this was real, or if you were actually hallucinating. If somehow, somewhere in the process of trying to bring him back to life, youâd lost your mind and ended up in the loony bin, and that all of this was happening in your head.Â
âBaby, youâre shaking.â Satoru made to stand but was jerked back by the tubes connected to his body. âOw, damn itâfuck.â He gripped a tube, about to yank it off, but then had the common sense to drop it when he saw blood still pumping into him. His arms reached out towards you. âCome here, baby. Itâs me⊠I promise.â
But before your feet could decide to function, the door to the chamber opened. Two figures strode in. Both, you recognised. Both, you could do without seeing.
âHuh, so youâre actually alive.â Sukuna picked off some imaginary dust from his creaseless suit, his tone managing to sound both amused and scathing all at once. âI was expecting some sort of trickery. A hologram, maybe. At most, a robot. Who knows what theyâll come up with to prevent the board from selling this place off.â
Satoru snorted. âYouâre lucky there were cameras, or I wouldâve found a way to frame you for my murder. And a robot? How insulting. No one can be me but me.â
âEvidently. A robot would know when to stop talking.â
A step behind Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi stood glaring. Not at Satoru, but at you.
He looked more dishevelled than last youâd seen him during the reading of Satoruâs will, in which a mini skirmish had broken out among Satoruâs relativesâwho hadnât bothered showing their faces until that dayâwhen the Gojo familyâs lawyer had announced that the entirety of Satoruâs assets were to be split equally between you and Megumi. An adopted son and a not-yet-wife.
And like you, Megumi hadnât given a flying fuck about the inheritance. What he did care about was the one clause Satoru had somehow had the foresight to include in his will. That the decision on what to do with his body would be solely up to you. Satoruâs own messed up way of showing you he meant it when heâd once told you, âI belong to you.â
Megumi had wanted a funeral. You didnât. Megumi had wanted to say his goodbyes. You didnât. Megumi didnât want Satoru to be tampered with, to be experimented with. You didnât see it that way. And that was how your relationship with the boy had soured to this point.Â
âI hope youâre happy,â he said to you. He might as well have spat in your face.Â
Satoru must have sensed the tension, because he immediately dropped his verbal sparring with Sukuna. âOh? What seems to be the problem, Megumi-chan? I thought youâd be glad to see me.â
But Megumi wouldnât even look at him. His eyes stayed on you like daggers slicing into your skin. âThe Gojo Satoru I know is dead. ThisâŠthing you createdâwith fake blood and a fake brainââ he laughed, bitterly. âAnd now youâre pretending heâs real? What a load of bullshit.â
He didnât wait for a reply and stormed out of the chamber.Â
âHeâll come around,â Satoru said, but still, heâd winced. âAlright, welcome partyâs over, everyone. As nice as I am to look at, I donât really want to sit here naked with my dick hanging out for much longer. So if all of you could kindly piss off, that would be amazing. Iâd like a moment with my wife, please.â
Sukuna scoffed. âWell, if youâre in good condition to yap incessantly, then I expect youâll be in good condition for a board meeting tomorrow. Ten oâclock. Donât die and be late again.â And with that, he was out the door.Â
Shokoâs voice spoke through the speakers. âWeâre going to stop the perfusion, Satoru. It should be safe to remove the tubes. But me and the team will need to stick around in case of anything⊠unforeseen. Just pretend weâre not here.â
The whirring of machines faded, steeping the chamber in a new silence. Once again, you were alone with Satoru. But this time, youâd finally accepted he was truly breathing.Â
âBaby? Talk to me.â Satoru flashed you a nervous smile. âYou havenât said a word.â
You moved.
And the moment you did, you couldnât stop.Â
You reached for him. Your hands were on his face, moving down his neck, his chest. Over the very real beat of his heart. And when you felt his hand on yours, the pressure of his very real touch, your voice broke.
âIâwe should try taking the tubes out.â
It was lame. You should have told him you missed him. You should have told him all the things you wanted to tell him in the months he lay lifeless while you pieced him back together. How you refused to let a single drop of tear roll down your cheek, because it would mean that you had something to cry about. How the entire research centre thought grief had turned you into some mad scientist who was obsessed with creating your very own Frankenstein, and that you almost believed them⊠almost.
But you didnât tell him those things. Because those things no longer mattered.
Slowly, you removed the tubes from him one by one. Satoru just sat there, watching you work, his fingers playing with your hair, grazing down the back of your neck, applying gentle caresses here and there until the last of the tubes were gone.Â
âTry standing up,â you said, your voice too thick to hide the emotions threatening to burst out from within you. âI need to check your sense of balance.â
Satoru nodded and wasted no time hopping off the table onto his feet. He grinned, and did a little spin. Like he was modelling for you. âNice stitching, baby. I think I prefer myself like thisâadds a lot of character, you know?â
âIâll get you some clothes.â
But he caught your wrist then, pulling you tight against him. His arms enveloped you, fingers lifting your chin to meet his gaze.Â
âIâve missed you too,â he said, stroking your cheek.Â
The way he spoke, softly, his cadence perfect and familiar and exactly as you rememberedâit really was him.
Your lips trembled, betraying you as you peered up at him.Â
âNever again, Satoru,â you said. âOkay?â
He leaned in. âI promise, baby.â
And when his mouth brushed against yours⊠when you parted your lips, feeling his tongue sweep inside you, meeting his every stroke and caress with your own⊠it was like everything that had been blocking up your insides for so longâthe sand in your lungs, the pain in your chest, the hollow pit in your stomachâall of it became but a distant memory.Â
Your kisses grew hungry. You couldnât stop touching him. You needed to bottle up all of his warmth and preserve every ounce of this moment because you couldnât bear to lose another second with him.Â
âHey,â Satoru murmured against your lips. âEasy, baby. Iâm right here.â
A smile cracked through some forgotten place in you. âWell, deal with it. All my kisses have been one-sided for months.â
âI bet I still taste good dead.â
âThatâs not funny, Satoru.â
He laughed. âWeâll see if it is sixty years from now.â
âWhy sixty?â
He grinned, and then he was pulling you in for another kiss. âThatâs what husbands and wives do, donât they? Grow old together.â
Like wildfire, news of the scientist who died and came back to life spread across the globe, saturating every media outlet, baffling entire religions, upending the medical world and whatever long held beliefs they had been preaching on the subject of mortality.Â
The headlines were calling it a miracle. Churches called it blasphemy. The medical journals were split between praise and skepticism. The National Registration Department had never had to rescind a death certificate eight months after registering it. Gojo Satoru, billionaire scientist, child prodigy, TIME 100 most influential individual, the worldâs sexiest man alive for six years running, and former corpse, had become a global sensation as the man who had defied death.Â
And you were right there in the spotlight alongside him. Satoru had made sure of it, insisting that your name was listed first in the accreditation for his now infamous Theory of Resurrection. Whenever he was asked, Satoru always drove in the fact that though he was the mastermind behind it, you were the one who saw it to the finish line.
âExecution is worth infinitely more than mere ideas,â heâd point out in all the interviews while refusing to let go of your hand.
Naturally, with any bizarre phenomenon came the conspiracies. There were those who accused Satoru of not being human, instead believing he was some kind of top secret, hi-tech artificial intelligence the government was testing out as a weapon for modern warfare. The ufologistsâ deductions were much simplerâthat extraterrestrial beings had abducted Satoru, conducted experiments, and placed him back on earth as one of them.Â
In answer to these wild accusations, Satoru had only one reply. âWhether Iâm an alien or the Terminator, at least Iâm a damn good looking one.â
Well, if there was a truth you could confirm, it was that he still fucked you like a feral beast.
After three weeks of monitoring at the research centre, Shoko and the team had determined Satoruâs condition as stable, and the board finally allowed him to return home with you. The moment the both of you stepped through the front door, it was like Satoru was a man on a mission.
âTo make up for lost time,â he said as he tore off your clothes, and took you against the wall. âItâs lucky you didnât have to sew my cock back on as well.â
âIf youâd lost it, I wouldnât have brought you backâahn!â
He laughed as he thrusted deep into you, filling you up so completely, making you take in every inch of him until there was no doubt that he was here to stay. Inside you. With you. âAnd here I am thinking you fell for my incredible mind.â
âItâsânghhâToru, youâreâŠâ
âWhat is it, baby?â Another thrust. Your moans filled the foyer. âTell me, what am I?â
âEverything,â you breathed. âYouâre everything, SatoruâŠâ
His gaze softened, and when his lips found yours, his kiss was tender. Warm.Â
Alive.Â
You let him pick you up, clinging onto him as he carried you to the bedroom and gently laid you on the sheets. You didnât let go. Not when he sheathed himself in you again. Not as his mouth claimed every part of you as if he never wanted to forget the very shape of you. Not while your bodies moved in sync together, while you cried out his name over and over again as he brought you to the edge, and went right over it together with you.Â
You still didnât let go as your head rested in the crook of his arm, your palm on his chest, over his beating heart. Your fingers traced the thick gash spanning across his stomach. It was still too early to remove the stitches, but he was healing up nicely. You wanted to believe scars could be beautiful, too.
âYou can close your eyes, baby. Itâs alright.â
You peered up at Satoru, not understanding at first.Â
âYouâre exhausted,â he said. âI bet you havenât properly slept sinceââ
âDonât, Toru. Iâve heard that word enough. I donât need you saying it too.â
âThen what do you me want to call it?â
âYou didnâtâyou were just absent. Thatâs all.â
âWell, Iâm here now.â Satoru trailed his fingers down the curve of your back. âAnd Iâm going to marry you. Weâll have that wedding I stupidly ruined. Weâll take that trip to Paris and never see the sights, because Iâll be fucking you so well you wonât want to leave the hotel.â
A soft laugh escaped you. âWhat about all the improvements you want to make to the Infinity Chamber? Itâs going to be a tight schedule. All the major hospitals have already placed their orders, and Sukuna wants to release the first commercial model by early next yearââ
âBaby, if thereâs one thing I learnt from dyâmy absence, itâs my priorities. Work can wait. Never you. Never again.â
You hugged him tighter. âIs that a promise Iâm hearing, Gojo Satoru?â
He beamed. âI donât have to promise anything, baby. Iâll show you. Just sit back and see for yourself, Iâllââ
Satoru paused. His brows furrowed.
âToru?â Your smile vanished as he suddenly jerked upright, and stumbled out of bed.
Satoru was coughing. The coughing turned into heaving. He was doubled over, clutching his stomach.Â
Red spilled out his mouth. Globs of it, fresh and dark, splattering across the white carpet.
Someone was screaming.
It was you.
Of all the fucking things that had to go wrong, why did it have to be his immune system?
Your jaw was tight as you read the report, your eyes burning holes into the file as if you could force the words to magically reshuffle and change the diagnosis.Â
But nothing changed. Satoru was dying. Again.
âWeâll rush a stem cell transplantation,â you said. âWeâll develop new immunosuppressants. Weâllââ
âThose treatments take time, doc,â replied Shoko. You hated the tone she was using. It was too gentle. Too final. The kind of tone doctors used when they were required to deliver bad news to patients. âIf it were a normal autoimmune disease, weâd probably have a chance. But Satoru isnât normal. At the rate his immune system is attacking⊠itâs like a war inside him. His body is shutting down too rapidlyââ
âHow long?â you asked, already knowing the answer. But your brain refused to accept it, instead seeking out someone, anyone, who might tell you otherwise.
The team fell silent.Â
âHe wonât last the hour,â Suguru finally said. âIâm sorry, doc.â
You pitched the file across the Infinity Chamber. The papers came loose, flapping about midair before scattering soundlessly onto the floor. On the operating table where Satoru lay motionless, those blue eyes lost under closed lids. Unseeing.Â
Heâd fallen into a coma before the ambulance arrived. Simply keeled over, face down in a pool of his own regurgitated blood. No hospital would be able to treat him, so youâd screamed at the paramedics to take him straight to the research centre. Everyone had seen his face on the news, and it didnât take much convincing for them to oblige your demand.
His skin was greying again. The pink in his cheeks, his lips, had faded to an ashen pallor. His breaths were waning. Those fucking tubes were stuck in him once more.
âBrain activity is flatlining,â Nanami reported, his expression grave. He added, quietly, âYou might want a moment alone with him, doc. He canât respond, but he can still hear you.âÂ
Your fists were balled, nails puncturing through the skin of your palms.Â
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
This wasnât happening. You werenât going to let it happen.Â
You werenât going to fucking say goodbye.
âActivate the resurrection procedure,â you said. âNow.â
Someone touched your shoulder. You flinched back.
Shokoâs hand retreated. âDoc,â she said, carefully. âWe never calculated for a second time. Itâs too much. The process will fry his organs. The synthetic blood might destroy his natural cells.â
You spared her a single glance. âDonât make me repeat myself.â
No one moved at first. Then, Haibara spoke.Â
âShe wants to try, guys.â He wouldnât meet your eyes as he said it. âWe should let her try.â
A sigh. You didnât know from who. You didnât care.
âEveryone to the control room,â said Shoko. âNanami, reduce perfusion speed by half. Suguru, watch the readingâthe moment his consciousness hits zero, weâre uploading immediately. Haibara, see if you can block some of the electro current. Satoruâs still alive. We want to jolt his system, not subject him to an electric chair. Docââ
âIâm staying in the chamber,â you said.Â
âItâs not safeââ
âIt will be if you block a portion of the electro current, which you are. Either way, Iâm not leaving him.â
âIf weâre going to do this, we should get moving,â said Suguru. âWe have less than an hour now, and Iâll have to recalibrate the neural mapping.â
There was nothing to recalibrate and you knew it. Shoko might not have given up on you, but Suguru had accepted the fact that convincing you to do anything else was a lost cause. You suspected heâd understood this a long time ago. He was the one who had found Satoru in the cryochamber, after all. The one who had to call you while you waited in your wedding dress.Â
But you didnât need him to understand. You didnât need a friend. You didnât need compassion.Â
You needed Satoru back.
The team left you alone and hurried to the control room upstairs. You positioned yourself beside the operating table, and waited your second eternity. But you were used to waiting by now. Youâd waited for him to offer you a spot on his research team, waited for him to notice you as more than an assistant, waited for him to ask you out for a quick lunch at that dingy sandwich joint staff liked to go to when they were sick of cafeteria foodâŠ
You waited for him to love you. So death could go fuck itself if it thought it could rip Satoru away from you after youâd spent all this time waiting.
You counted each shallow rise and fall of his chest. Saw the moment it stopped moving before the machines around you started buzzing. You stood, numb, as the chamber youâd finished buildingânot for humanityâs advancement but for one personâcame alive around you in a flurry of mechanical droning.Â
All the while, you watched him. Until you chewed the inside of your cheeks raw and your vision blurred from refusing to blink. Until you spotted the twitch of his finger. A fluttering of long, white lashes.Â
Satoru groaned. His eyes flew open, then he was fumbling upright.Â
A small cry escaped you, and then you were holding him.Â
âItâs alright,â you said when he looked at you, dazed and confused. âYouâre alright now.â
âIâŠâ Satoru hesitated. âWhere am I?â
âAt the research centre. You had an accident, but everythingâs okay now. Youâre okay.â
âI see. I think I remember. Just⊠give me a moment. My head feels like someone cracked it open with a hammer.â
You helped him to unstrap the helmet, and draped your lab coat over him. Continued to hold him steady as he studied the tubes running out his body.
âSo I died,â he said.Â
âFor a short while, yes.âÂ
âAnd you brought me back.â
âI always will, Satoru.â
Those blue eyes searched yours.Â
âYouâre very beautiful,â he said. âBut Iâm sorry, do I know you?â
âSatoru, I told you itâs not funny.â
He blinked. âRight, ah⊠so I do know you. I mean, it feels like I do. It feels like Iâve known you my whole life.â
You stared at him.
Satoru stared back. âShit. Iâve said something wrong, havenât I?â
The speaker crackled. A grim voice cut through the chamber.
âDoc. SatoruâŠâ Suguru sounded too calm. âSo this is whatâs going to happenâIâm going to read you the diagnosis, and then me and the team⊠weâll wait for your decision. But, doc, I think this time you should let Satoru decide.â
Suguru didnât wait for an answer and continued. âYou died twice, Satoru. We brought you back using your Theory of Resurrection. Do you remember your theory?â
For a long moment, Satoru didnât speak. His eyes darted from you up to the control room above, and then around the chamber, assessing. Processing. As if a flurry of information was running through his head at lighting speed to reach a conclusion.Â
âI think I understand now,â he said, slowly. âAnd I can guess where this is going. Whoever you are, give it to me straightâand donât bother explaining my theory. I know what I created.â
Silence.
âWe couldnât recover a portion of your memory, Satoru. Your body is rejecting the neural upload⊠among other things.â
âPlease, I forgot some things. Iâm not an idiot.â Satoruâs gaze settled back on you, on the matching rings on both your fourth fingers. He mustered a grin. âWell, at least I was lucky enough to find someone like you, even if I canât remember how.â
You didnât know when youâd started shaking.Â
Suguru spoke. âSatoru⊠your body is shutting down. The synthetic blood weâre pumping in is keeping you functioning for now, but the moment we shut off the tubes, youâllââ
âIâll die,â Satoru finished. âTook you long enough to say it. Kind of figured that out since I woke up feeling like shit.â
âYour consciousness is currently at thirty three percent retainment. We can try to bring you back again, but from the reading, retainment percentage will only go down. Youâll probably lose another fifteen percent if we go through with a third procedure.â Suguruâs voice hitched. âIâlisten Satoru⊠even if we succeed, you wonât be yourself.â
âAgain, Mr. Obvious, Iâm not an idiot. And I can hear you sniffling, by the way. Whatâs your name?â
âSuguru. Weâre friends.â
âWell, Suguru, if weâre really friends, then I think you know what to do.â
âNo,â you whispered. Then louder. âNo. Thatâs not what weâre doing. Weâre not going toââ
âHey, come here.â You froze as Satoru took your hands in his, gently pulling you closer. He shifted, wincing as he stood, and wrapped you in his arms.Â
The world slipped away from under your feet. There was only him. Soft, white hair falling over deep blue eyes. His pale, tired face, still perfect. The pressure of his hands around your waist, lifting to cup your cheek. The stroke of his fingers against your skin. The way he was looking at you, like heâŠ
âIâm sorry, baby.â His lips were on yours as he spoke. âDo you hate me?â
At last, you broke. Your face crumpled. Your composure went. You stopped caring if he could feel your body shudder.Â
âNever,â you said.
âDo you love me?â
Your laugh was bitter. âI canât believe youâre even asking that.â
You felt his fingers tighten a fraction around your waist. âThen, do you know that I love you?â
âIââyou could barely choke the word out. Because the truth of it was more than you could handle. It was easier to beg. So you did. âPlease donât leave me.â
Satoruâs smile was oddly relaxed. Almost relieved. As if heâd lost something important and had found it. âIâll still be around, if you want me to. Right here,â he said, and gently tapped the side of your head. âAs long as you live, so do I.â
âItâs not the same.â Your vision blurred. âItâs notâitâs not everything. Itâs not you...â
âMy love, you know as well as I do that I wonât be me even if I stay.â He kissed you. Kissed away the damp streaks flowing down your cheeks. Gently. Slowly.Â
âIâll find a way,â you tried again. âThereâs always a way. Nothingâs impossible, only improbable. Thatâs what you told me. There has to be anotherââ
âYouâre right, there always is. Doesnât mean you should go searching for it.â
âNo. I refuse.â You were shaking your head violently. âDonât do this to me. If you donât want to try, I will. Iâll fix it. All you have to do is wait. I wonât stopââ
He hugged you tighter. You felt his lips on your hair.
âLook at me, baby.â
You screwed your eyes shut. If you couldnât see the what was written so clearly on his face, then it wasnât true.
âPlease, baby,â Satoru said, lifting your chin. âI want to get a good look at what my soul cannot deny.âÂ
You wanted to scream. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to burn down this whole fucking place, with you and him in it, so you wouldnât have to live through what was coming next. So you wouldnât have to feel yourself tearing apart inside.
Not yet. It wasnât enough. The time you were given with him was simply too short. It should be more. It should be sixty more years like he promised.Â
You werenât ready to let him go.Â
But you knew you had to. Because it was what he wanted. Because he didnât want you to lose him slowly. Because he was losing himself. Because he couldnât be brilliant without his memory. Because he would no longer be Gojo Satoru, and he didnât want you seeing it.Â
Because he loved you.
You looked into his eyes⊠the eyes you once thought youâd be looking at forever.
âThereâs my girl.â Satoruâs smile destroyed you. âBetter holes in my brain than yours, because I donât want you forgetting Iâm yours. In every lifetime. Can you do that? Can you remember that for me?â
 It was the same before, and it was the same now. You would do anything for him. So you nodded, and told him what he wanted to hear. âYouâre too much for me to forget so easily, Satoru.â
 He laughed and kissed you again, long and slow, and for a moment, nothing existed but the warmth of him that filled you.Â
âCome here, baby,â he said. âLet me hold you.â
You let him pick you up and place you on the metal slab. You laid down with him, your head on his chest like how you always fell asleep, curled up against him. Your legs tangled with his, his arm under and around you. Your hand in his, where it belonged.Â
You couldnât say how long you stayed like that. Talking. You told him about the day you met, how heâd asked you to marry him one random morning to make you feel better about the coffee machine breaking down. He laughed and told you that he must be quite a catch for you to say yes to such a lame proposal. Then he told you his vowsâthe vows for a wedding you would never have.Â
Somewhere in between, Satoru must have signalled for Suguru to stop the perfusion because the whirring in the chamber faded. You ignored the silence. There was only him. His voice. The press of his body against yours. His fingers wrapped in yours as you moved yourself up, placing your face so close to his that his features became indistinct, and you began to lose yourself in them.Â
You held him as he slipped away. As his chest slowed and his skin turned cold. You told him it was okay for him to close his eyes, and right before he did, you told him you loved him.Â
You held him long after his heart stopped beating. Long after the team had left and your muscles had gone stiff from lack of movement. Long after his soul had departed to a place you couldnât reach. And when you finally let go of him, it was to pick up the metal helmet from the floor.Â
You placed it over your head, and sat back down beside him.
âSystem override,â you said, your voice calm. Flat. âPassword: Replacement.â
Satoru was wrong. Heâd theorised Five Râs, ending with resurrection. He never considered a sixth. But you did. Youâd figured out the final âRâ to the equation.
A computerised voice droned through the speaker. âSystem override. Affirmative. Existing consciousness detected. Permission to erase for remapping.â
âPermission granted.â
âAffirmative. Accessing stored neural data for replacement. Confirm subject.â
âGojo Satoru.â
âAffirmative. Neural data for subject, Gojo Satoru, confirmed for replacement with existing consciousness. Requesting password for final permission.â
Your gaze fell on Satoru. You took his hands in yours, and brought them to your lips.Â
sleeping around with the staff at your shitty waitressing job can't go that wrong...right?
synopsis: feelings and fucking should be kept separate. especially in the work place. so how come it hurts so bad to watch the hot bartender who brought you home last weekend flirt with pretty customers? and how far will you go to get over him - or under someone else?
pairings: Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Nanami x Reader
content: mdni, angst and fluff, restaurant AU, waitress!reader, bartender!Geto, waiter!Gojo, chef!Sukuna, manager!Nanami, also includes food runner!Choso, mentions of past friends-with-benefits, emotional hurt, complicated feelings, anxious/insecure reader, awkward conversations, nanami is so sick of them lol
divider by @/saradika-graphics !!
"You can't be fuckin' serious."
The piercing in Sukuna's eyebrow twitched, groaning as he grabbed the paper from your hand. You didn't know if he was glaring at you or it.
"This is the last ticket," You murmured, lips pressing together in a little pout as he sighed and called out to one of the few cooks left to re-fire the grill. "They want it to-go."
You leaned against the counter, rummaging through the pockets of your apron where you'd stuffed the cash tips you made for your phone. Pulling it out to briefly check the time, grimacing at how close it was to closing - and how annoying it would be to get your last table out of here on time.
Without Satoru to pick up some of the slack, you'd been short-staffed on the floor, and you yet again had the misfortune of being last one there again after the rest of them were cut. Stuck finishing up duties, all the silverware rolled and dressings done, but unable to sweep or mop until the restaurant was cleared out.
Still, you'd prefer to finish up without the judgey stares and catty whispers of the rest of the waitresses, most of them giggling and gossiping about the idiots who'd been brawling over you. So maybe it wasn't all that bad.
A few minutes had turned into a few hours, too busy flitting from table to table, bussing them and taking out orders, although you still hadn't found enough time to talk to Nanami.
He'd been busy too, in his office or handling problems with irritated customers who seemed to always have something to complain about.
You had missed messages from both the men currently competing for your - affection? Attention? You weren't sure what they wanted from you. Just sex or maybe screwing the other one over?
Scrolling through some of them only put a frown on your face, Satoru begging you to call him when you got off, texts filled with pouting emojis and apologies you didn't think he really meant. Suguru's were shorter. Simple.
I'm sorry.
Can we talk soon?
I know I've been a fucking moron.
He'd been a moron for months - what were you supposed to do about it now?
Even when he wasn't around, you missed him. But you didn't want to. Didn't want to feel anything outside of apathy for him. Tell yourself he was only a coworker until it became the truth.
You sighed when you dropped your phone back in your apron, running over your mental checklist on what to do next when someone called your name.
Nanami was cleaning his glasses with a cloth, blond brows knitted together when he slid them back up the pretty slope of his nose and fixed his stare on you.
"Can you come back to my office now?" He asked, his voice low and serious. You wondered if you were about to get suspended - or if you would just be scolded for your after-work activities.
"I'm waiting on food for my last table," You awkwardly murmured, looking back at Sukuna. He glanced back up at you, a glint in his dark stare as he locked eyes with you. You didn't know what expression he was making, how he felt when his face was always carved out of stone, hard and sharp. Sukuna didn't crack - but you were ready to crumble.
The past twenty four hours felt like a month, stress threatening to make the thin thread to your sanity snap.
"Choso can take it out," Nanami said, authoritative without trying - waving his hand towards the dark-haired man who was attempting to clean up.
"O-okay," You bit your lip, begrudgingly following behind him as he led you back to his office.
He opened the door for you, standing in the threshold while he held it so you had to slip past him, your dress brushing against his slacks. Nanami slowly shut the door behind you, grabbing out the small chair opposite of his desk before pulling it out for you to sit in.
"Did I do something?" You asked after you sat, fiddling with your fingers in your lap as you looked at everything except him. The stacks of documents neatly placed. The light from his computer flashing against the wall. The filing cabinets organized by years and months lining the wall.
"Not you," He replied, all collected and measured. He was the kind of confident you had never been comfortable with. Self-assured, like he had all these answers you were always searching for.
You knew what he was trying to say. You hadn't done anything. But the idiots you'd been with had.
It felt like you were a little kid again, getting scolded by the teacher for some stupid shit your friends pulled. Back then, you didn't exactly get to pick who you called that - clinging to whoever would let you hang around them.
Even now, were you all that different?
Letting Satoru and Suguru play tug-of-war with you because it was better than being alone?
"I can't tell you what to do with your free time," He started, and you held up your hand.
"I'm not going to, um, you know, do that with either of them anymore," You interrupted before he could get the wrong idea. Before he could slot you in with the other problems and put you on a suspension too.
Nanami's eyes crinkled behind his glasses, veins on his arm bulging as he sat down in his chair and leaned across his desk.
"I'm glad," He said, and there was something not-so-professional in his deep hum. "But that wasn't why I asked you in here."
"Oh," You blinked. "Then-"
"I've been interviewing for another waiter," He explained, and you nodded along, playing with the hem of your uniform. "I'd like you to train him when he starts."
You swallowed hard, a dull pain in your chest when your lungs constricted mid-breath. Training was shitty - but you couldn't complain when you needed this job more than you disliked spending an entire shift babysitting someone who barely listened to you.
Who knows?
Maybe he'd be nice - maybe you'd make a friend.
"Sure," You softly answered. "Tomorrow or-"
"Next week," Nanami corrected, and you just nodded again. Feeling like a limp doll, too tired to do anything except agree.
More than anything, you were dying to just go back to your own place, to bury yourself underneath your blankets and sleep it all off.
"Is that all then?" You asked, palms pressed down on the handles as you got ready to stand up.
"Do you have a ride home tonight?" He asked, and your lips parted.
Technically, no.
But you were planning on asking Choso or seeing if you could hitch a ride with Shoko once she finished polishing glasses behind the bar. You figured one of them would say yes. Hoped that you wouldn't have to risk asking Sukuna for a ride on the back of his motorcycle or spending the money you just made on an Uber.
"I was just going to ask whoever was left if they could drop me back off," You mumbled, standing up just to bump back into his desk. Your side still hurt from where he accidentally hit you with the door before, a sharp ache that throbbed when you moved too fast.
"I'll take you," Nanami insisted, running his fingers through his pretty blond hair as he stood up too.
"You don't have-" You awkwardly protested, shaking your head with faint humiliation at your boss feeling the need to do something like that for you.
It was kind of silly, knowing he was the same age as you, and somehow feeling so much smaller when he was around. Nanami was put-together, composed in a way you couldn't be.
"It's nothing," He shrugged, broad shoulders wrinkling his finely-pressed button-up.
Right. Nothing.
He led you back out, his long fingers drifting against your back again before you walked out the door. Professional. Polite.
And you still caught your gaze drifting back over your shoulder to him when you went back into the kitchen, brain feeling all funny and fuzzy as you tried to focus on your tasks at hand.
"Your table left," Sukuna grunted, tossing a few loose bills at you that you had to catch. It took a few fractured seconds for you to figure out what it meant - that he'd actually been the one to bring out their food instead of Choso.
"Oh, um, thank you," You murmured, flustered as you smoothed the cash out and added it to the rest in your apron. "I appreciate-"
Sukuna just huffed at your gratitude, waving it away and walking to the opposite end of the kitchen, leaving you to stare at his outline.
You finished up the rest of your stuff for closing shift, pausing by the bar to tip out Shoko, who was too preoccupied looking through her purse to spare you more than a quick glance as you counted out your tips for the night. You slid over her share, about to say good night before she nodded towards where your last table had been, now wiped down and cleaned courtesy of Choso.
"Don't think they'll be coming back," She dryly said, and you squinted, trying to figure out what she was getting at.
"Huh?"
"They tried to stiff you," She casually said, snorting a little. "Sukuna scared them into leaving a tip."
You made a sound that was half a laugh, too stunned to think it was anything other than a joke.
She didn't chuckle though, pretty fingers snaking out to snatch over her tip out from you. "Thanks."
Shoko was blunt, but she didn't care at least, didn't treat you any differently. But that was probably because she was better friends with Suguru and Satoru than the rest of them. Except for Utahime - but she also hated Satoru, so maybe Shoko was just used to being in the middle.
Dealing with stupid shit came with the territory.
So really, why had you ever expected anything else?
You should probably just be glad they did it outside of the restaurant rather than in the middle of the floor.
"You ready?" Nanami murmured in your ear when you finished mopping, holding out his jacket like he expected you to take it.
Everyone else had left, even Sukuna who had seemed uncomfortable when he walked out the door, holding onto his helmet and throwing you a strange look before he disappeared into the dark night.
"Mm, yeah, think so," You confirmed, taking off your apron, rolling it up to put back inside your purse, pretending you didn't notice him offering his jacket as you walked out the door.
He locked up behind both of you, and you started towards his car in the corner of the lot. It was clean, well-kept, just the kind of tidy you expected from him. Not that new, but something reliable.
You pulled up his contact in your phone while you waited for him to unlock the passenger door for you, sending him your address, although you supposed he probably had it on file somewhere. He didn't say anything when he opened your car door, reaching past you for the handle to let you in.
Despite both of your attempts at casual conversation failing miserably to start with, you eventually settled into a semi-comfortable silence, listening to music on the radio while he drove you.
"Can I walk you up?" He asked once he parked back at your place, sincerely offering.
He was just being nice.
So of course, when you were unlocking the door, you were obligated to return his sincere sentiment and invite him inside for something to eat.
You just hadn't expected him to say yes. That he'd actually help you put together a cute charcuterie board, piecing together crackers and cheese and rummaging through your fridge and pantry to find stuff for it. Snacking together and offering to put on some music, actually falling into normal chatting before he noticed the bottle of wine on your counter and asked for a glass.
Were you bad at saying no? Sure - but you also didn't really want to with him.
He might be your boss, but he felt like a friend walking around your cramped living room, looking around before settling himself down on your ratty old couch.
It creaked under his weight, and you excused yourself to change into something more comfortable. Pulling on one of the few cute pairs of pajamas you had, returning to pour yourself some wine and walking back over to him. Already taking a swig, not to get drunk, but to loosen up. Make yourself more likable.
There was enough room next to him on the cushions, but you couldn't bring yourself to take it.
"It's not my place," Nanami started talking, one hand wrapped around his wine glass while the other worked to undo the top button of his shirt, your stare catching even lower as his surprisingly thick thighs spreading out. "But if you're trying to have your needs met, those idiots are not the ones to go to."
You giggled a little, crossing your legs as you sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, sipping on your own glass before snagging something off the board.
He was right. He always was.
But it was a little funny to hear him talk about something vulgar, your sex life suddenly seeming comical under the influence of alcohol.
"I don't exactly have that many options," You admitted, shrugging a little.
Nanami scoffed, rolling his amber eyes before they centered back on you. "That's not true."
"You wouldn't get it," You shook your head. "I doubt you've ever had trouble dating."
From his perfect hair to his perfect face, clothes styled and fitted and his muscled frame, he was the guy any girl would want to marry.
To your surprise, Nanami shook his head like you were wrong, bringing his glass back to his mouth.
"I don't have time to date," He dismissed.
"So? I'm sure you still have sex," You retorted, and you saw how his brow arched, like his first instinct was to scold you for saying something inappropriate.
"I've been busy," He muttered, and you didn't really know how to respond.
The back-and-forth fading back into awkward avoided glanced as you drained the rest of your wine glass until there was nearly nothing left.
"Oh, yeah, I mean, I get it," You eventually said. Between studying and your shifts and scrambling to make it to your classes, you barely managed to make it back to bed to sleep most days.
"I just mean, they're emotionally stunted," He continued, as if clarifying his point would make a difference.
"Yeah," You stifled a laugh, masking the bitter taste on your tongue at the mention of them. "I know."
"You shouldn't have to deal with that just to have decent sex," Nanami wryly said, his mouth grimacing like he didn't like the thought of you and them at all.
"It almost sounds like you're volunteering," You breathed, trying to turn it into a joke.
Waiting for him to reject it as silly. But he didn't stop staring - and it struck you that he was serious.
"I could satisfy you better than either of them could," He shrewdly offered, as if this was a business proposal. "No strings attached."
the wife pov (1) â satoru's pov (2) â first love pov (3)
your finger was the one he put a ring on.
everyone knows that youâre the one who wears his last name. the one sharing a bed with him every night. the one doing his laundry. the one preparing him breakfast and dinner. the one waiting for him at home. the one where his vows lies.
yet, even after being the one in many thingsâ youâre never the one who he devoted his love and soul to.
satoru is devoted to you, as a husband. no more, no less. itâs his duty which he has to perform flawlessly to perfection, like he always has. the truth of your arranged marriage always haunts you, even in your sleep.
and it cuts through you all the time, without fail.
when you found a picture of that woman in his wallet some nightâ you didnât say anything. lips shut tight like you always have. forevermore.
sheâs a beautiful woman. youâve heard people describe her as having a gentle soul and poise demeanor. a perfect match for satoru whoâs in need of someone to keep him grounded.
gentle always followed after your name, too. but not like hersâsomething you compare yourself to, staring at the mirror, once in a whileâitâs a different form of gentle. the kind that someone whoâs, undoubtedly, be the one who satoru devoted his love and soul to.
the woman in the picture is whose existence youâve become sensitively aware of after the engagement happened. after all that whispers? no matter how hard you try, it lingers, following your every step.
âitâs really tragic, no? both gojo and that woman. having to end it all for his duty.â
âmaybe. thatâs expected, i think. no matter how high on the top satoru gojo is, no matter how much privilege being the strongest gave himâ they always find a way to make him bend over the rules.â
âseriously, you guys are not giving the fiancee enough credit! imagine being her, a total nightmare.â
even months later, you still find yourself being able to recite those words in your sleep. itâs suffocating, really. how the truth chases you down even when youâre unconscious.
âsatoru ⊠who is she?â
he tensed. no name drop, no pictureâ nothing. but, he knows in a heartbeat who you were referring to. you, on the other hand, can feel the way your heart drops before it shattered as he muttered the answer.
â⊠my ex, first love.â
the way that sentence left his own lips was enough to send you buried six-feet-under. his tone, a softness you never heard before, taunting you. it sends chills through your body.
you really did take away his life, his freedom.
worst. youâve taken away their love and crushed it by existing.
âoh, i see. sheâs beautiful.â your statement was pure, no malice in it. she is beautiful. but despite your own words, you feel the world crumbling under your feet.
you didnât pester him, continue acting as the lovingly doting wife you are, all while a void started to grow in you.
even if he canât hear it, you promise with your lifeâ he'll own his life.
it wasnât surprising when the next day everything in the house is clean and tidy, too perfect. no trace of you were seen there, sparing him from you that he was forced to have.
sparing him from longing and pain of what-if and what-could-have-been, with her.
his clothes are all iron. the fridge and pantry is filled with everything he loves. all his necessities that were running out, youâve stock it up. the delicate hands of yours have also prepared him meal plan, for the last time.
and that night, for your last act of love as his wife and someone who loves himâ youâll give him the freedom he yearns for.
satoru, light of my life,
the glass is held firmly on your hand as you slowly bring it towards your parting lips. your intense gaze watching how the liquid starts to run dry from your glass down to your throat.
for everything weâve shared and everything youâve done for me, thank you.
under your touch, the glass slips and shattered. crashing against your shared bedroom floor, echoing through the silence as your body stumbles before fell hitting the ground.
no matter what anyone says, youâre my favorite, always.
in the emptiness of the house that was never yours to live, no one was there to watch how the foam started forming in your mouth. the sounds of your strangle breath was aching to hearâ filled with defeat, helpless, and somewhere in the back, relief.
i have no regrets in life other than holding you back from the life you dream of.
your body that was uncontrollably shaking as it takes in the source of satoruâs freedom finally comes to a halt.
these past few months of being your wife have brought me happiness that no one had ever given me. truly.
a pair of bright eyes that were always searching for his ocean blue eyes, the one you find yourself diving in every time, now dull and drains off color, staring empty at the endless darkness.
iâm sorry for all the mess and pain iâve caused you. never in my life, the thought of hurting you crosses my mind. so, please ⊠have a good life after this.
and on your shared bed, a letter, as well as your ringâback in its boxâis placed there neatly, waiting for him to come. waiting for the rightful owner to wear it.
i love you, my light, my sirius.
even though you canât see the way his face bathes in sunlight in the morning anymoreâ youâre relieved that the end of your life is the new start of his, the freedom, that you promised to him.
for you, iâm letting go.
after all, even if the world turns upside-down, you know his love and soul is never yours to keep.
DEAREST â very messy writing and all, but i love angst! (i said as i get dragged into an asylum)
