bruh tell me why I looked over to my seat partner and there was straight up smut on her damn ipad girl really was on ao3 in school on FULL brightness
⋮ ⌗ ┆ 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ! | okay first off, WHY is this SO FUCKIN EMOTIONAL for no absolute reason. damn. consider this a 1000 follower special! likes & reblogs are appreciated!
NOTE: this is 𝐧𝐨𝐭 romanticising blindess if some of y'all didn't get that. quite the opposite, actually. from how i intended it, it's supposed to show that visual impairment is no issue, and love has no boundaries. 𖹭
[𝜗ৎ] 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 : 2.9k
𝓜𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏! / 2000 𝗙𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟
my husband hates me.
the thought settles deep in your chest like a stone, familiar and heavy, as you lie on the silk sheets of the massive bed.
your fingers trace the embroidered patterns on your robe—some floral design you can't see but can feel beneath your fingertips. the fabric is soft, expensive. everything here is expensive. everything here screams luxury and power and wealth.
but none of it screams love.
you hear nothing from his side of the bed.
the man is so impossibly quiet, it makes your skin prickle with unease. you've been here for three months now. three months as the wife of ryomen sukuna, the king of curses, the most feared ruler in all the lands. and in those three months, he has barely spoken a word to you.
at first, you thought it was a game.
some twisted test of patience. you were clever enough to know that political marriages were rarely about love. you'd been prepared for indifference, for coldness, for a husband who saw you as nothing more than a strategic alliance.
but this? this silent treatment that stretches night after night, this deliberate distance he keeps?
it cuts deeper than you expected.
your hand moves from your robe to your stomach, pressing against the plane of your belly. you're small. you know this. delicate in a way that makes people underestimate you. and blind. gods, the blindness. the one thing that has sent every single suitor running in the opposite direction.
princes would see your face first—the one they called ethereal, otherworldly, beautiful in a way that seemed impossible—and they'd fall to their knees.
they'd whisper sweet words, promises of devotion, declarations of love at first sight. and then you'd speak, and they'd realize your eyes didn't track their movements, didn't meet their gaze. and slowly, painfully, you'd listen to them pull away. hear the hesitation creep into their voices. feel the distance grow until they were gone.
you were used to it.
but sukuna? sukuna had looked at you once, for a single moment, and said yes. the entire empire had been shocked. the king of curses, the ruthless murderer, the emperor who had never shown interest in any woman, accepting a blind bride from a neighboring kingdom? it was scandalous. impossible.
and you'd felt hope.
you hate yourself for that hope now.
because three months of silence have taught you the truth. he doesn't want you. he tolerates you. and honestly? you'd almost prefer cruelty. at least cruelty would be a reaction. at least cruelty would mean he saw you as something worth acknowledging.
but this nothingness? this endless, suffocating nothingness?
it makes you feel like you've already disappeared.
the servants guide you through your days with practiced efficiency. they dress you, feed you, lead you through the palace halls. you've memorized the layout of your chambers, the path to the gardens, the number of steps from your room to the dining hall. you've learned to navigate this world without sight, just as you've always done.
but you can't navigate him.
you don't know where he sits at meals. you don't know if he watches you. you don't know if he even notices when you're in the same room. his presence is a void—a massive, oppressive absence of warmth that you can feel but never touch.
tonight was bad.
you'd been led to the gardens by a new servant, someone who didn't know your habits. she'd taken you left instead of right, and you'd walked straight into a hedge, thorns scratching your calves before she'd yanked you back with a flurry of apologies.
then you'd almost fallen down a staircase—the grand staircase with its uneven steps—your foot catching on the edge, your heart lurching into your throat as you'd pitched forward. a guard caught you just in time.
and the whispers.
you can't see their faces, but you can hear their voices. the concubines. the noblewomen. the servants who think you can't hear them.
"the blind empress."
"does he even notice her?"
"i heard he hasn't touched her once."
"what a waste of a pretty face."
"she must be so lonely."
"she must be so pathetic."
you'd smiled through all of it. kept your head high, your shoulders back, your voice steady. you learned long ago that showing weakness only invites more cruelty. so you'd walked through the halls with your practiced grace, your cane tapping against the marble floors, your face serene.
but inside, you were crumbling.
and now, lying in this massive bed, with your hair spread across a silk pillow and the scent of incense curling through the air, you can feel him beside you. he's so close. you know he's sitting up, his back probably against the headboard, his presence a heavy weight in the darkness.
does he ever sleep?
you've never heard him snore. never heard him shift in his sleep. he's so still, so silent, you sometimes wonder if he's even real.
a long, long time passes. the candles burn down. the incense fades. the night wraps around you like a shroud.
and you can't take it anymore.
"ryomen?"
your voice comes out soft, barely above a whisper. you hate how small you sound. how vulnerable. you'd wanted to sound strong, confident, demanding. instead, you sound like a child calling out in the dark.
silence.
you wait. count your heartbeats. one. two. three. four. five.
just when you're certain he's ignoring you, just when the familiar ache of rejection settles into your chest, a voice cuts through the darkness.
"what."
it's gruff. low. a single word that rumbles through the air like distant thunder. and it's the most he's said to you in days.
you swallow. your throat is dry. your fingers twist in the sheets.
"i...i want to ask you something."
more silence. you can feel him staring at you. you can't see it, but you can feel it—the weight of his gaze, heavy and unreadable.
"ask."
you take a shaky breath. this is it. this is the moment you've been building toward for three months. the question that's been eating you alive, consuming you from the inside out.
"do you hate me?"
the words hang in the air between you. they sound so small. so pathetic. you wish you could take them back, but it's too late. they're out there now, exposed and raw.
"hate you?" his voice is strange. almost...confused?
"because of...because i'm...y'know, blind." the words taste like ash in your mouth. "i know it's...i know i'm not what you expected. i know i'm not the best option. i know i'm—"
"stop."
the word is sharp, and you flinch. your breath catches in your throat. you brace yourself for anger, for cruelty, for him to finally confirm what you've suspected all along.
but instead of harsh words, you feel movement. the bed shifts. his weight moves closer.
and then, without warning, a hand wraps around your waist and pulls.
you let out a frightened shriek as you're yanked from your position, your body colliding with something solid and warm. your hands fly out, grasping at fabric, at skin, at anything. you're on his lap, straddling his thighs, your chest pressed against his. he's so big—so impossibly large—that you feel like a doll in his arms.
"ryomen!" your voice is high, panicked. "what—"
"quiet."
his hand settles on your thigh. it's huge. calloused. rough in a way that sends shivers down your spine. but the touch is gentle. impossibly gentle. he strokes your thigh once, twice, a soothing motion that slowly calms your racing heart.
"you really think," he says slowly, his voice rumbling against your chest, "that i hate you?"
you can't speak. your throat is too tight. you settle for shaking your head against his chest, even though it's a lie.
a low sound escapes him—not quite a growl, not quite a laugh. his hand slides from your thigh to your chin, tilting your face up. his thumb brushes across your lower lip, feather-light.
"open your eyes."
the command catches you off guard. "what?"
"your eyes. open them."
you blink, confused. your eyes are already open. you can't see anything, but they're open. you tell him as much.
"no." his voice is strange. softer. "i mean...look at me."
"i can't see you."
"i know." his thumb traces your jawline. "but i can see you. and i want to see your eyes. please."
please.
the word catches you off guard. the king of curses, saying please? to you?
you don't move. don't breathe. just let him hold your face in his massive hand, his touch devastatingly tender.
"i don't hate you," he says, and his voice cracks on the words. "gods, woman. i could never hate you."
your heart stutters. "then why—"
"because i'm fuckin' terrified."
you blink. "what?"
"do you know what i am?" his hand slides from your face to your hair, fingers threading through the strands. "i'm a killer. i've been killing for centuries. my hands are stained with blood i'll never wash clean. i'm rough, and violent, and i don't know how to be gentle."
"but—"
"but when i saw you..." he trails off. his fingers tighten in your hair, just barely. "when i saw you, i couldn't breathe. you were so beautiful. so small. so... perfect. and i thought, 'she's too good f'me.' , 'i'll break her.' , 'i'll hurt her.'"
his voice drops to a whisper.
"so i stayed away. because every time i look at you, i want to touch you. and every time i touch you, i'm afraid i'll destroy you."
tears prick at your eyes. you don't understand. you can't understand. this entire time, you thought he hated you. you thought he found you repulsive, broken, worthless.
but he was...
...afraid?
"you don't hate me?" you whisper.
"no." his forehead presses against yours. "i love you. i've loved you since the moment i saw you."
a sob escapes your throat. it's ugly and raw and you can't stop it.
"but you never—you never talked to me—"
"because i didn't trust myself." his other hand comes up to cup your cheek. "because i knew if i started, i wouldn't be able to stop."
"then don't stop."
the words leave your mouth before you can think. they hang in the air, bold and desperate.
"don't stop," you repeat. "please. i don't want you to stop."
sukuna goes still. so still that you wonder if he's stopped breathing.
"you don't know what you're asking."
"i do." you reach up, your fingers finding his face. you trace the planes of his cheeks, the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips. "you're my husband. i want you. all of you."
"i'll hurt you."
"i don't care."
"i'll break you."
"i don't care."
his breath hitches. and then, finally, finally, his lips crash against yours.
the kiss is desperate. hungry. it tastes like three months of longing, of confusion, of aching loneliness. his hand fists in your hair, pulling you closer, and you gasp against his mouth. his tongue slides against your lower lip, asking for entry, and you give it willingly.
he tastes like sake and power and something darker. something that makes your toes curl and your heart race.
he pulls back, breathless.
"tell me to stop, and i will."
"don't," you say immediately. "don't stop."
he groans. his hands slide down your back, gripping your hips, and he lays you down on the bed. you fall against the silk sheets, your hair spreading around you like a halo. you can't see him, but you can feel him—his weight on the bed, his heat surrounding you, his breath ghosting across your skin.
"m'gonna show you," he says, his voice low and rough. "m'gonna kiss every inch of your body. gonna taste you until you scream my name. i want to make you feel so good that you forget every single doubt you've ever had about yourself."
your breath catches. "ryomen—"
"let me." his lips brush against your neck. "let me show you how much i love you."
you nod, unable to speak.
his hands find the tie of your robe. he undoes it slowly, reverently, like he's unwrapping a gift he's been waiting centuries to open. the fabric falls away, cool air hitting your skin, and you shiver.
"beautiful," he breathes. "so fucking beautiful."
you feel his lips on your collarbone. soft. worshipful. he kisses down your chest, his tongue tracing a path between your breasts. his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples, and you gasp.
"sensitive," he murmurs. "good. i'll remember that."
he takes one nipple into his mouth. his tongue circles the peak, slow and deliberate, and you arch into him with a desperate moan. he laves at you, sucking gently, nipping with his teeth until you're writhing beneath him.
"more," you gasp. "please—"
"patience." his voice is a dark promise. "i haven't even started with ya' yet."
he switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. his hand slides down your stomach, fingers tracing patterns on your skin, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. you're already wet—embarrassingly wet—and he lets out a low growl when he feels it.
"fuck," he mutters against your skin. "you're soaked. f'me?"
"yes," you whimper. "only you."
he groans. his fingers slide through your folds, collecting your wetness, and you buck into his touch.
"tell me what you want."
"i want—" you gasp as his thumb circles your clit. "m'want your mouth."
his laugh is dark and breathless. "demanding little thing, aren't ya'?"
"please," you beg. "ryo, please—"
"shh." he kisses your stomach. "i'll give ya' what y'want."
he moves down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire. he kisses your hips, your thighs, the inside of your knees. by the time he reaches your core, you're trembling, desperate, aching.
and then his tongue touches you.
you cry out, your hands flying to his hair. he laps at you like a man starved, his tongue sliding through your folds, circling your clit, dipping inside you. he moans against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.
"taste s'good," he mutters against your skin. "could eat ya' forever."
he sucks your clit into his mouth, and you scream. your hips buck against his face, but he holds you down, his massive hands gripping your thighs. he alternates between sucking and licking, building a rhythm that has you climbing higher and higher.
"that's it," he praises. "let go f'me...lemme taste ya'."
his fingers find your entrance, sliding inside you without warning. two fingers, thick and long, stretching you. he curls them, hitting a spot that makes you see stars, and you shatter.
you come with a scream of his name, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you. he doesn't stop. he laps at you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're sobbing from the intensity.
when you finally come down, he crawls up your body, his lips finding yours. you taste yourself on his tongue, and it's the most intimate thing you've ever experienced.
"m-more," you whisper. "m'want more."
his eyes—you can feel them—search your face.
"are you sure? we can stop. we can—"
"i'm sure." you reach for him, your fingers finding his chest. "i want you...please."
he hesitates. you feel the tension in his muscles, the restraint he's barely holding onto.
"m'bigger than ya'," he says, matter of factly. "a lot bigger. and i have...i have two dicks, woman. i don't know if—"
"i don't care." you pull him closer. "i trust you."
he groans, pressing his forehead against yours.
"if it hurts too much, tell me. and i'll stop."
"okay."
"promise me."
"i promise."
he shifts above you, and you feel something heavy and thick press against your thigh. and then another. two cocks. the thought should terrify you, but instead, it sends a thrill through your body.
he aligns himself with your entrance, and you feel the tip pressing against you. he's huge—so much bigger than his fingers—and you wonder if you can actually take him.
"relax f'me," he murmurs. "breathe."
you inhale deeply, and he pushes in.
just the tip, and you gasp. he's stretching you in a way that's almost unbearable. it hurts. there's a burning sensation, a pressure that's too much and not enough.
"shh," he soothes. "you're doing s'well. so good f'me."
he pushes deeper, inch by agonizing inch. you feel your body struggling to accommodate him, your walls clenching around his length. and then—
a sharp pain.
fuck...you forgot.
you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. he stops immediately.
"did i hurt ya'?"
you can't answer. the pain is fading, replaced by a strange fullness. you feel something wet trickle down your thigh. warm. sticky.
blood.
his eyes slowly flicker down, and you can hear his breath stop. he's tense. too tense.
"fuck," he hisses. "you're—you're a fuckin' virgin?"
you nod weakly, biting your lip. your heart is pounding fast. loud. "is that...bad?"
"no." his voice is strained. "no, it's not bad. i just—fuck—i didn't know. i would have been more careful, woman."
"you are being careful," you whisper, fingers pressing into his shoulders "keep going."
"you're fuckin' bleeding."
"i don't care. please. i want to feel you." you sniffle. god, the pleasure is making you bold. too fucking bold.
he lets out a shaky breath. "you're going to kill me."
but he pushes deeper, slower this time. gentler. his lips find yours, kissing you softly as he sinks into you. the pain fades, replaced by a deep, aching fullness that makes you moan.
when he's fully sheathed, he stops. lets you adjust. his forehead presses against yours, his breath ragged.
"y'feel incredible," he breathes. "so tight. so...fuck...perfect."
"move," you beg. "please."
he pulls out slowly, then pushes back in. the friction is delicious, the stretch exquisite. he sets a rhythm—slow, deep, deliberate—each thrust hitting a spot that makes you see stars.
"ryomen," you gasp. "r-ryo—"
"i know," he murmurs. "i know, doll. feels s'good, doesn't it?"
"yes—yes—"
his hand slides down your stomach, pressing against the slight bulge where he's buried inside you. the feeling makes you moan.
"look at that," he says, awe in his voice. "you can feel me, can't ya'? right here."
he presses down, and you feel it—the outline of him inside you. it's obscene. it's incredible.
"more," you gasp. "harder—"
"y'sure?"
"yes—please—"
he obliges. his pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent. the bed creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with your moans and his grunts.
"gonna come," he warns. "where do you want it?"
"inside," you gasp. "please—i want to feel you—"
he groans, his hips slamming into yours. and then he's coming, hot and thick, filling you so completely. you feel it—his release pouring into you, painting your walls, claiming you from the inside. his cum is already trickling down your thigh, oozing out of your cunt.
at the same time, he's stroking his other cock. you feel the wet spurts hit your stomach, warm and sticky.
he collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you. his face buries in your neck, and you feel his breath, ragged and uneven.
"i love you," he whispers, gruff. it's funny. you've always thought the word love doesn't exist in his vocabulary. but here he is, saying it over and over again. "i love you so much it terrifies me."
you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer.
"i love you too."
a long moment passes. then another. and then—
"we're going to do that again."
you laugh, breathless.
"right now?"
"after i clean you up." he kisses your neck. "and then again. and again. and again. until ya' can't walk."
"promise?"
he pulls back, and even though you can't see him, you know he's smirking.
"promise."
you're already half asleep when he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like he's afraid you'll disappear. his lips press against your hair, your forehead, your eyelids.
"my wife," he murmurs. "my perfect, beautiful wife."
The days following their reunion, Y/N woke up to good morning texts and silly selfies from Gojo every day.
She told herself it meant nothing. He meant nothing. He was just a piece of her past that never should have resurfaced.
So why was she blushing whenever his name popped up on her screen? Why was she secretly waiting for him to text?
It was confusing.
He was all she could think about.
Naturally, she had been slacking off at work.
Should I text him first? Ask him to meet up? No, that’d be weird, right?
But he had said he missed her.
Now she sat at her desk, completely spaced out, her face warm and the tips of her ears tinted pink. Flashbacks from that bizarre night kept replaying in her head, along with thoughts of her old high school crush and best friend.
Suddenly, she was jolted back to reality by none other than her nasty coworker, who seemed to hate her for absolutely no reason.
“Why aren’t you doing what you’re here for?” he snapped.
“Huh?”
Y/N blinked in surprise. She hadn’t even noticed him approaching.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been careless with your assignments lately and severely distracted. If you’re going to keep half-assing your job, I’ll make sure the boss hears about it.”
His voice echoed throughout the office.
Everyone was staring.
Oddly enough, Y/N’s mind went completely quiet.
Peaceful.
Silent.
How had she endured this for so many years?
How had she let people like him walk all over her without saying a word?
Slowly, she rose from her chair.
All eyes followed her movement.
But something felt different.
She wasn’t afraid anymore nor was she embarrassed.
For once, she wasn’t willing to stay quiet just to preserve her pride.
“What the hell is your problem?” she snapped.
The entire room fell silent.
The bustling office suddenly felt deserted.
The shift was almost over, and everyone was already exhausted and eager to go home.
“I beg your pardon?” he gasped.
“Why don’t you focus on doing your own job instead of scrutinizing my every move?” she shot back.
The coworker scoffed and glanced away, visibly caught off guard by her sudden outburst.
She had never done anything remotely close to this before.
Just what had gotten into her?
The clock struck 8 p.m.
Her shift was over.
Without wasting another second, Y/N grabbed her things, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked out of the building without looking back.
⸻
Later that night, she lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.
All she could think about was what had happened earlier.
Her insomnia was already bad enough, but replaying humiliating moments in her head certainly wasn’t helping.
Then her phone rang.
She immediately reached for it.
The caller ID made her heart skip a beat.
Gojo Satoru.
The very person who had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
“Good evening, honey~”
“What the hell? Do you know what time it is?” she snapped.
“My glorious Y/N, I could ask you the same thing. Why are you awake at such a ridiculous hour?” he said dramatically before lowering his voice. “And don’t lie to me. I know it’s because you missed me.”
“You damn punk—”
Heat rushed to her face.
Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Now, now,” he chuckled. “What are you doing tomorrow? You free?”
His usual cocky tone had returned, and she could practically picture that smug grin plastered across his face.
Only then did she remember.
Work.
She had to go back to work tomorrow.
And she’d have to face the coworker she’d snapped at.
“Oh, shit…”
“What?” Gojo laughed. “Are you that surprised that the great Gojo Satoru is asking you out on a date?”
“Fuck you. I ought to—”
“I bet you’re blushing like crazy right now.”
“I’m hanging up if you keep this up.”
“So, is that a yes or a no?”
The teasing vanished from his voice.
For the first time that evening, he sounded genuinely curious.
I should just call in sick tomorrow.
She hadn’t taken a sick day in years.
Surely nobody would mind.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But only if you take me somewhere nice.”
“You bet I will.”
The grin in his voice was impossible to miss.
“See you tomorrow, babe.”
He laughed softly, and butterflies immediately erupted in her stomach.
Much to her annoyance, she found herself smiling too.
“Good night, Gojo.”
“You too. And make sure to dream about me.”
His deep laughter echoed through the phone once more.
By the time the call ended, her face felt like it was on fire.
Y/N buried her face in her pillow and groaned.
Was she seriously getting flustered just from hearing him laugh?
a/n sorry for the long wait ladieesss, i was really struggling with my life these past weeks and also excuse the short part #dihpressed😵
The days following their reunion, Y/N woke up to good morning texts and silly selfies from Gojo every day.
She told herself it meant nothing. He meant nothing. He was just a piece of her past that never should have resurfaced.
So why was she blushing whenever his name popped up on her screen? Why was she secretly waiting for him to text?
It was confusing.
He was all she could think about.
Naturally, she had been slacking off at work.
Should I text him first? Ask him to meet up? No, that’d be weird, right?
But he had said he missed her.
Now she sat at her desk, completely spaced out, her face warm and the tips of her ears tinted pink. Flashbacks from that bizarre night kept replaying in her head, along with thoughts of her old high school crush and best friend.
Suddenly, she was jolted back to reality by none other than her nasty coworker, who seemed to hate her for absolutely no reason.
“Why aren’t you doing what you’re here for?” he snapped.
“Huh?”
Y/N blinked in surprise. She hadn’t even noticed him approaching.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been careless with your assignments lately and severely distracted. If you’re going to keep half-assing your job, I’ll make sure the boss hears about it.”
His voice echoed throughout the office.
Everyone was staring.
Oddly enough, Y/N’s mind went completely quiet.
Peaceful.
Silent.
How had she endured this for so many years?
How had she let people like him walk all over her without saying a word?
Slowly, she rose from her chair.
All eyes followed her movement.
But something felt different.
She wasn’t afraid anymore nor was she embarrassed.
For once, she wasn’t willing to stay quiet just to preserve her pride.
“What the hell is your problem?” she snapped.
The entire room fell silent.
The bustling office suddenly felt deserted.
The shift was almost over, and everyone was already exhausted and eager to go home.
“I beg your pardon?” he gasped.
“Why don’t you focus on doing your own job instead of scrutinizing my every move?” she shot back.
The coworker scoffed and glanced away, visibly caught off guard by her sudden outburst.
She had never done anything remotely close to this before.
Just what had gotten into her?
The clock struck 8 p.m.
Her shift was over.
Without wasting another second, Y/N grabbed her things, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked out of the building without looking back.
⸻
Later that night, she lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.
All she could think about was what had happened earlier.
Her insomnia was already bad enough, but replaying humiliating moments in her head certainly wasn’t helping.
Then her phone rang.
She immediately reached for it.
The caller ID made her heart skip a beat.
Gojo Satoru.
The very person who had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
“Good evening, honey~”
“What the hell? Do you know what time it is?” she snapped.
“My glorious Y/N, I could ask you the same thing. Why are you awake at such a ridiculous hour?” he said dramatically before lowering his voice. “And don’t lie to me. I know it’s because you missed me.”
“You damn punk—”
Heat rushed to her face.
Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Now, now,” he chuckled. “What are you doing tomorrow? You free?”
His usual cocky tone had returned, and she could practically picture that smug grin plastered across his face.
Only then did she remember.
Work.
She had to go back to work tomorrow.
And she’d have to face the coworker she’d snapped at.
“Oh, shit…”
“What?” Gojo laughed. “Are you that surprised that the great Gojo Satoru is asking you out on a date?”
“Fuck you. I ought to—”
“I bet you’re blushing like crazy right now.”
“I’m hanging up if you keep this up.”
“So, is that a yes or a no?”
The teasing vanished from his voice.
For the first time that evening, he sounded genuinely curious.
I should just call in sick tomorrow.
She hadn’t taken a sick day in years.
Surely nobody would mind.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But only if you take me somewhere nice.”
“You bet I will.”
The grin in his voice was impossible to miss.
“See you tomorrow, babe.”
He laughed softly, and butterflies immediately erupted in her stomach.
Much to her annoyance, she found herself smiling too.
“Good night, Gojo.”
“You too. And make sure to dream about me.”
His deep laughter echoed through the phone once more.
By the time the call ended, her face felt like it was on fire.
Y/N buried her face in her pillow and groaned.
Was she seriously getting flustered just from hearing him laugh?
a/n sorry for the long wait ladieesss, i was really struggling with my life these past weeks and also excuse the short part #dihpressed😵
tags : angst :: hurt/comfort :: eventual smut :: old friends to lovers :: slow burn :: canon compliant
wc : 2,2k
Y/n handed over her work to her boss. He stared at the papers like they were written in a different language.
“Is this all? You had so much time.”
“If you keep handing over this dead-end work, I can’t let you work here anymore. This is too plain, too boring, too average.”
The words hit her like paper cuts. She knew she would start crying if she looked him in the eyes now, so she fidgeted with her fingers and stared at the dark brown wooden floor of the company she worked in. Large windows, a faint smell of coffee and sweat lingering in the air. All of a sudden, everything around her seemed so distant, as if this was her first day here. Leaving the Jujutsu world was one of the best decisions she had ever made, right? It had to be. She was a plain sorcerer. Even with hard training from morning to night, she could never compare to her comrades. She was sick of being compared to them. This misery had to end.
Who would have known that living a normal life after being so damaged since childhood would be so difficult?
This whole week had been shitty. It was like the world was playing some huge joke on her that she didn’t know about. Humiliating.
“I’m sorry, I’ll work on it. I promise.”
Outside, it was pouring. The sky was grey. Cars passed by quickly, probably on their way home to their loving families, citizens running with their work bags over their heads to protect themselves from the rain. Y/n, of course, had no car.
Dammit.
She grabbed one of the umbrellas from the umbrella stand, silently hoping a coworker would offer to take her home. But who was she kidding?
They hated her, ignored her, and excluded her. She was never invited to dinners or drinks after work, even when the whole team was. To them, she was always invisible. Someone you could dump your work on because she had low self-esteem and would always say, “Yeah, no problem,” with that uncertain smile.
Y/n couldn’t do it anymore. She hated feeling used. But she was too much of a coward to stand up for herself, too scared to lose the job that didn’t even pay her enough for the work she completed. Oh right, the work that wasn’t even decent enough for her boss not to comment on.
⸻
On her way home, she walked by a new bakery. She had passed it a couple of times, wondering if she would ever find someone to visit it with. She stopped abruptly in front of it. Screw it, she didn’t need anyone to do anything with her.
The doorbell rang as she entered. Her steps steady, the warmth of laughter from the people and the sweet scent of freshly baked cookies and brewed coffee immediately wrapped around her.
“Hello, what can I get for you?” asked a young worker with a cute smile, rosy cheeks, and hair in an effortless, classy bun.
Y/n pointed at the red velvet cake with “Happy Birthday!” written on it.
“This one, please.”
“Oh, how exciting. Is it your birthday?”
“What—oh, no, it’s for a friend.”
Liar.
She handed over the money. The young woman packed the cake into a shiny box with the bakery’s name on it, tied a big golden ribbon around it, and placed it into a paper bag along with a card wishing “your friend” the best birthday ever.
Y/n couldn’t wait to get home, where she could binge-watch her favorite shows and eat the birthday cake she had bought just for herself.
⸻
After searching for her keys for what felt like years, she finally found the right one and entered her apartment quickly. She threw off her wet jacket and her shoes. Later, she took a warm, bubbly bath to calm herself from the stress of the day.
Getting out of the bathtub, she put on her fluffy bathrobe and an expensive face mask. She settled down on the couch and did what she knew best.
The cake was soft inside, with sweet frosting and sprinkles. Y/n had had a sweet tooth since birth.
Suddenly, her mind drifted to a person she hadn’t seen or talked to in years. Gojo Satoru. When they were teenagers, they would go to cafés and bakeries all the time, trying new pastries and milkshake flavors.
He was her best friend. Things got tense when she told him about leaving Jujutsu High, and after that, they never heard from each other again.
She put on her silk pyjamas and lay down on her bed, still thinking about him. All the memories and pain they shared. The times he had comforted her when her parents were being assholes, or when he opened up to her about the struggles of being the strongest. She felt a deep sting in her chest. Suguru had left before her, so that meant she left Satoru all by himself to suffer. She was one of the very few people who knew how he felt inside, how vulnerable he was, like a delicate flower. But he put on a mask and wore it like it was destined to be.
Shit, was she too selfish?
⸻
The next day, she had a day off. Finally sleeping in, she decided to dress up and run some errands in Tokyo. Life in Shibuya was solid, but nothing could compare to the shopping opportunities in Tokyo.
She put down her hair and applied some makeup, not too eye-catching but enough to enhance her natural beauty. A short skirt and a cute blouse. She was ready to go.
Gojo was having an ordinary day. Except the temperatures were pretty high in Tokyo, and Nobara and Yuji had convinced him to take a trip into town after one of their missions. Megumi wasn’t too impressed, the hot weather made him more tense than usual, but he decided to go along anyway.
Y/n was browsing through shops, a few bags in her hand. It felt nice enjoying herself and doing something she liked, like getting her nails done and buying cute clothes, knowing they would probably just rot in her closet.
Y/n was standing at a little market stand when Gojo abruptly felt a familiar cursed energy.
It was her, no doubt, he thought. Leaving the group, he followed the energy, getting closer until the air carried a subtle scent of fresh laundry with a hint of vanilla. Then he saw her silhouette. He knew it was Y/n. He stood there, unable to believe it. All these years he had forced himself to forget her, but now just sensing her made something in him shift. His heart started racing. Raising a hand to his chest to steady himself, he finally walked up to her, closing the distance.
She heard familiar, steady steps and her head snapped toward the sound, first looking down and then up at his dashing face. His beautiful eyes were covered by a black blindfold, different from the round sunglasses she remembered. His snow-white hair had grown longer, sticking up in soft spikes. Her mouth opened, too stunned to speak, before he broke the silence.
“You like what you see, perv?” A wide grin appeared on his face.
“Satoru—” she gasped.
“Long time no see, huh? You look great.”
At long last, she could think straight again.
“Yeah, thank you. So, how’s it going? You still a teacher?” she asked, a little awkwardly, looking to the side.
“Well, of course. Watcha doin’ here? I thought ya lived in Shibuya. Thinkin’ about coming back?” His grin grew even more after seeing her a little red-faced.
“No, I’ll never return. I already told you that. And I’m only here for shopping, so if you’ll excuse me, I would like to continue in peace.”
“Shibuya has a big shopping center. Just say you wanted to see me,” he replied teasingly.
“Oh please. I went all these years without you, I certainly don’t want to see you now,” she bickered back, knowing he wasn’t quite lying.
The three students noticed their teacher’s absence and quickly followed him. But when they saw who he was talking to, they hid behind a market stand to watch.
“Is that his girlfriend?” Yuji asked, confused.
“No way he bagged her. She’s way too pretty for him,” Nobara argued.
Megumi’s eyes widened when he looked at her. Back when she still worked at Jujutsu High, Gojo and she had taken care of him and his sister. She had even acted like a mother figure when he got into trouble at school.
“That’s not his girlfriend. She’s an old friend and a former sorcerer and teacher from Jujutsu High,” he said calmly.
“No way, look at the way he’s looking at her,” Yuji argued.
For a moment, Gojo went silent. His head whipped back, staring at the three innocent teenagers.
“Oh shit, they caught us,” Nobara sighed.
a/n hi ladies this will definitely be a serie and i‘m so excited for this beacause it‘s my first serie everrr😝
sorry to keep you ladies waitinggg, but i‘ve been kinda struggling in life a bit lately so that‘s why theres still no part 3, but i hope I can make it this saturday or sunday ✌🏻✌🏻
Gojo introduced his three students to her. One of them she immediately recognised. Ecstasy filled her eyes as she pulled the dark-haired boy into a tight hug. He tried acting nonchalant, knowing it caught him off guard, and he was happy seeing her too. The brown-haired girl made it clear that she was excited about meeting Y/n and shook her hand aggressively.
“So…” Yuji Itadori clasped his hands before continuing, “…are you two together?”
Nobara nudged him with her elbow and he just looked at her with a big pout. He knew she was curious too.
“Oh god no!” Y/n shot back in an instant.
Gojo dramatically clutched his chest in mock offense.
“Oh, wow, I’m still your little secret?” he pouted before bursting out in laughter.
“Not funny!” you replied.
“You should’ve seen ya face,” Gojo flailed his arms around, still laughing uncontrollably.
The three students were more than confused as Y/n started smacking his arm and pulling on his uniform. How was she this comfortable with him, if he’s just an “old friend”? Y/n wished she could smack that smug grin right off his ridiculously handsome face, but she could barely reach his shoulder. Why did he have to be this tall?
As an apology, Gojo invited her out for dinner so they could catch up. He wanted to hear about her life and, naturally, brag about his own.
He was quick to call Ijichi so that he could pick the teenagers up while he went out for dinner with his old friend.
“We’re going to see you again, right, miss?” Yuji asked and Y/n couldn’t look into his adorable face and disappoint him with a simple no.
“I’m sure you will!” her voice sounded more convinced than she actually was.
⸻
Gojo brought you to the dinner date. It was in a refined restaurant. The guests were all dressed in classy dresses and suits. Y/n felt a little uncomfortable and out of place. The restaurant had bright lights with jazz playing in the background. Expensive colognes lingered in the air, as well as the smell of champagne. That’s when she realised just how rich Gojo Satoru really was.
The server guided them to a table next to the window in a rather calmer spot. Y/n sat down across from Gojo and faced him. He still wore that ridiculous blindfold, and she silently wished he would take it off for just a second to reveal his mesmerizing eyes she hasn’t seen since god knows when.
“You’re staring,” he smirked teasingly at her.
She hastily turned her head away. “No, I’m not!”
“You totally are,” he chuckled now. “So how is your life as an ex-sorcerer? You doing okay?”
“Please don’t call it that, and yeah, I’m fine.”
She was definitely not doing fine. Life was throwing curveballs at her and she felt like a huge joke.But she still managed to force a small smile.
“You know you can tell me the truth. I know when you’re lying. You’re my friend.” His smirk turned into a soft, knowing smile.
“Work is kinda rough, and the people there are really something.”
Normally it was hard for her to open up and vent about these types of problems, but with him everything was so natural.
⸻
Time passed as Gojo listened to her problems. But Gojo always found a way to make her laugh, changing the topic after hearing her out and giving advice. He didn’t interrupt. He just leaned back slightly, listening with an unusually soft expression.
Gradually the conversation slowly shifted into something more casual.
The food was amazing and the conversation went on for hours. Gojo talked about his newest student who ate one of Sukuna’s fingers. Y/n was shocked to hear that the sweet-looking guy really swallowed the finger of a 1000+ year old curse.
⸻
After finishing dinner, he walked her to the train station. It was dark outside and the air was quite cool.
“Give me your phone, I’ll dial in my phone number.”
“Oh, right,” she brought her phone out of her bag and placed it into his hand. “I hope you know that I had to change my number back then.”
“No worries. I definitely didn’t think you hated me and blocked me or anything,” he quipped.
Guilt gnawed at her because she never reached out to him in all these years.
“I’m sorry.” Guilt twisted in her stomach as she looked away.
Gojo scratched the nape of his neck, regretting his choice of words. “It’s alright. I’m sure you had your reasons. Besides, you’re here now, aren’t you?”
Y/n smiled at him a little awkwardly.
He didn’t want to make her feel bad about the situation. It was in the past and he understood why she chose to leave.
When the train arrived, Y/N stepped forward. Just as she was about to board, Gojo gently caught her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.
“I missed you, Y/n.”
Y/N froze, caught off guard by both his actions and his words. He had acted so casual the entire evening.
Gojo introduced his three students to her. One of them she immediately recognised. Ecstasy filled her eyes as she pulled the dark-haired boy into a tight hug. He tried acting nonchalant, knowing it caught him off guard, and he was happy seeing her too. The brown-haired girl made it clear that she was excited about meeting Y/n and shook her hand aggressively.
“So…” Yuji Itadori clasped his hands before continuing, “…are you two together?”
Nobara nudged him with her elbow and he just looked at her with a big pout. He knew she was curious too.
“Oh god no!” Y/n shot back in an instant.
Gojo dramatically clutched his chest in mock offense.
“Oh, wow, I’m still your little secret?” he pouted before bursting out in laughter.
“Not funny!” you replied.
“You should’ve seen ya face,” Gojo flailed his arms around, still laughing uncontrollably.
The three students were more than confused as Y/n started smacking his arm and pulling on his uniform. How was she this comfortable with him, if he’s just an “old friend”? Y/n wished she could smack that smug grin right off his ridiculously handsome face, but she could barely reach his shoulder. Why did he have to be this tall?
As an apology, Gojo invited her out for dinner so they could catch up. He wanted to hear about her life and, naturally, brag about his own.
He was quick to call Ijichi so that he could pick the teenagers up while he went out for dinner with his old friend.
“We’re going to see you again, right, miss?” Yuji asked and Y/n couldn’t look into his adorable face and disappoint him with a simple no.
“I’m sure you will!” her voice sounded more convinced than she actually was.
⸻
Gojo brought you to the dinner date. It was in a refined restaurant. The guests were all dressed in classy dresses and suits. Y/n felt a little uncomfortable and out of place. The restaurant had bright lights with jazz playing in the background. Expensive colognes lingered in the air, as well as the smell of champagne. That’s when she realised just how rich Gojo Satoru really was.
The server guided them to a table next to the window in a rather calmer spot. Y/n sat down across from Gojo and faced him. He still wore that ridiculous blindfold, and she silently wished he would take it off for just a second to reveal his mesmerizing eyes she hasn’t seen since god knows when.
“You’re staring,” he smirked teasingly at her.
She hastily turned her head away. “No, I’m not!”
“You totally are,” he chuckled now. “So how is your life as an ex-sorcerer? You doing okay?”
“Please don’t call it that, and yeah, I’m fine.”
She was definitely not doing fine. Life was throwing curveballs at her and she felt like a huge joke.But she still managed to force a small smile.
“You know you can tell me the truth. I know when you’re lying. You’re my friend.” His smirk turned into a soft, knowing smile.
“Work is kinda rough, and the people there are really something.”
Normally it was hard for her to open up and vent about these types of problems, but with him everything was so natural.
⸻
Time passed as Gojo listened to her problems. But Gojo always found a way to make her laugh, changing the topic after hearing her out and giving advice. He didn’t interrupt. He just leaned back slightly, listening with an unusually soft expression.
Gradually the conversation slowly shifted into something more casual.
The food was amazing and the conversation went on for hours. Gojo talked about his newest student who ate one of Sukuna’s fingers. Y/n was shocked to hear that the sweet-looking guy really swallowed the finger of a 1000+ year old curse.
⸻
After finishing dinner, he walked her to the train station. It was dark outside and the air was quite cool.
“Give me your phone, I’ll dial in my phone number.”
“Oh, right,” she brought her phone out of her bag and placed it into his hand. “I hope you know that I had to change my number back then.”
“No worries. I definitely didn’t think you hated me and blocked me or anything,” he quipped.
Guilt gnawed at her because she never reached out to him in all these years.
“I’m sorry.” Guilt twisted in her stomach as she looked away.
Gojo scratched the nape of his neck, regretting his choice of words. “It’s alright. I’m sure you had your reasons. Besides, you’re here now, aren’t you?”
Y/n smiled at him a little awkwardly.
He didn’t want to make her feel bad about the situation. It was in the past and he understood why she chose to leave.
When the train arrived, Y/N stepped forward. Just as she was about to board, Gojo gently caught her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.
“I missed you, Y/n.”
Y/N froze, caught off guard by both his actions and his words. He had acted so casual the entire evening.
tags : angst :: hurt/comfort :: eventual smut :: old friends to lovers :: slow burn :: canon compliant
wc : 2,2k
Y/n handed over her work to her boss. He stared at the papers like they were written in a different language.
“Is this all? You had so much time.”
“If you keep handing over this dead-end work, I can’t let you work here anymore. This is too plain, too boring, too average.”
The words hit her like paper cuts. She knew she would start crying if she looked him in the eyes now, so she fidgeted with her fingers and stared at the dark brown wooden floor of the company she worked in. Large windows, a faint smell of coffee and sweat lingering in the air. All of a sudden, everything around her seemed so distant, as if this was her first day here. Leaving the Jujutsu world was one of the best decisions she had ever made, right? It had to be. She was a plain sorcerer. Even with hard training from morning to night, she could never compare to her comrades. She was sick of being compared to them. This misery had to end.
Who would have known that living a normal life after being so damaged since childhood would be so difficult?
This whole week had been shitty. It was like the world was playing some huge joke on her that she didn’t know about. Humiliating.
“I’m sorry, I’ll work on it. I promise.”
Outside, it was pouring. The sky was grey. Cars passed by quickly, probably on their way home to their loving families, citizens running with their work bags over their heads to protect themselves from the rain. Y/n, of course, had no car.
Dammit.
She grabbed one of the umbrellas from the umbrella stand, silently hoping a coworker would offer to take her home. But who was she kidding?
They hated her, ignored her, and excluded her. She was never invited to dinners or drinks after work, even when the whole team was. To them, she was always invisible. Someone you could dump your work on because she had low self-esteem and would always say, “Yeah, no problem,” with that uncertain smile.
Y/n couldn’t do it anymore. She hated feeling used. But she was too much of a coward to stand up for herself, too scared to lose the job that didn’t even pay her enough for the work she completed. Oh right, the work that wasn’t even decent enough for her boss not to comment on.
⸻
On her way home, she walked by a new bakery. She had passed it a couple of times, wondering if she would ever find someone to visit it with. She stopped abruptly in front of it. Screw it, she didn’t need anyone to do anything with her.
The doorbell rang as she entered. Her steps steady, the warmth of laughter from the people and the sweet scent of freshly baked cookies and brewed coffee immediately wrapped around her.
“Hello, what can I get for you?” asked a young worker with a cute smile, rosy cheeks, and hair in an effortless, classy bun.
Y/n pointed at the red velvet cake with “Happy Birthday!” written on it.
“This one, please.”
“Oh, how exciting. Is it your birthday?”
“What—oh, no, it’s for a friend.”
Liar.
She handed over the money. The young woman packed the cake into a shiny box with the bakery’s name on it, tied a big golden ribbon around it, and placed it into a paper bag along with a card wishing “your friend” the best birthday ever.
Y/n couldn’t wait to get home, where she could binge-watch her favorite shows and eat the birthday cake she had bought just for herself.
⸻
After searching for her keys for what felt like years, she finally found the right one and entered her apartment quickly. She threw off her wet jacket and her shoes. Later, she took a warm, bubbly bath to calm herself from the stress of the day.
Getting out of the bathtub, she put on her fluffy bathrobe and an expensive face mask. She settled down on the couch and did what she knew best.
The cake was soft inside, with sweet frosting and sprinkles. Y/n had had a sweet tooth since birth.
Suddenly, her mind drifted to a person she hadn’t seen or talked to in years. Gojo Satoru. When they were teenagers, they would go to cafés and bakeries all the time, trying new pastries and milkshake flavors.
He was her best friend. Things got tense when she told him about leaving Jujutsu High, and after that, they never heard from each other again.
She put on her silk pyjamas and lay down on her bed, still thinking about him. All the memories and pain they shared. The times he had comforted her when her parents were being assholes, or when he opened up to her about the struggles of being the strongest. She felt a deep sting in her chest. Suguru had left before her, so that meant she left Satoru all by himself to suffer. She was one of the very few people who knew how he felt inside, how vulnerable he was, like a delicate flower. But he put on a mask and wore it like it was destined to be.
Shit, was she too selfish?
⸻
The next day, she had a day off. Finally sleeping in, she decided to dress up and run some errands in Tokyo. Life in Shibuya was solid, but nothing could compare to the shopping opportunities in Tokyo.
She put down her hair and applied some makeup, not too eye-catching but enough to enhance her natural beauty. A short skirt and a cute blouse. She was ready to go.
Gojo was having an ordinary day. Except the temperatures were pretty high in Tokyo, and Nobara and Yuji had convinced him to take a trip into town after one of their missions. Megumi wasn’t too impressed, the hot weather made him more tense than usual, but he decided to go along anyway.
Y/n was browsing through shops, a few bags in her hand. It felt nice enjoying herself and doing something she liked, like getting her nails done and buying cute clothes, knowing they would probably just rot in her closet.
Y/n was standing at a little market stand when Gojo abruptly felt a familiar cursed energy.
It was her, no doubt, he thought. Leaving the group, he followed the energy, getting closer until the air carried a subtle scent of fresh laundry with a hint of vanilla. Then he saw her silhouette. He knew it was Y/n. He stood there, unable to believe it. All these years he had forced himself to forget her, but now just sensing her made something in him shift. His heart started racing. Raising a hand to his chest to steady himself, he finally walked up to her, closing the distance.
She heard familiar, steady steps and her head snapped toward the sound, first looking down and then up at his dashing face. His beautiful eyes were covered by a black blindfold, different from the round sunglasses she remembered. His snow-white hair had grown longer, sticking up in soft spikes. Her mouth opened, too stunned to speak, before he broke the silence.
“You like what you see, perv?” A wide grin appeared on his face.
“Satoru—” she gasped.
“Long time no see, huh? You look great.”
At long last, she could think straight again.
“Yeah, thank you. So, how’s it going? You still a teacher?” she asked, a little awkwardly, looking to the side.
“Well, of course. Watcha doin’ here? I thought ya lived in Shibuya. Thinkin’ about coming back?” His grin grew even more after seeing her a little red-faced.
“No, I’ll never return. I already told you that. And I’m only here for shopping, so if you’ll excuse me, I would like to continue in peace.”
“Shibuya has a big shopping center. Just say you wanted to see me,” he replied teasingly.
“Oh please. I went all these years without you, I certainly don’t want to see you now,” she bickered back, knowing he wasn’t quite lying.
The three students noticed their teacher’s absence and quickly followed him. But when they saw who he was talking to, they hid behind a market stand to watch.
“Is that his girlfriend?” Yuji asked, confused.
“No way he bagged her. She’s way too pretty for him,” Nobara argued.
Megumi’s eyes widened when he looked at her. Back when she still worked at Jujutsu High, Gojo and she had taken care of him and his sister. She had even acted like a mother figure when he got into trouble at school.
“That’s not his girlfriend. She’s an old friend and a former sorcerer and teacher from Jujutsu High,” he said calmly.
“No way, look at the way he’s looking at her,” Yuji argued.
For a moment, Gojo went silent. His head whipped back, staring at the three innocent teenagers.
“Oh shit, they caught us,” Nobara sighed.
a/n hi ladies this will definitely be a serie and i‘m so excited for this beacause it‘s my first serie everrr😝
It was one of the very few days where Gojo basically had a free day from work. Instead of resting and relaxing at home, he decided to bother joining you on your shopping tour.
You were a decent sorcerer yourself, but not as relevant or needed as Gojo. That's why you didn't work 24/7. The school would call if they needed you, but likely you wouldn't be the first they would contact if something came up.
The weather was sunny today. Not the kind where you're drenched in sweat after walking for five minutes, or the kind where you burn up like a tomato when not wearing sunscreen. Just sunny, comfortable weather with a steady breeze.
You took this opportunity to shop for some fancy summer dresses.
When you spotted Gojo in the hallway, not in his uniform but in some classy linen pants and a white button-up shirt-and the most crucial part—he wasn't wearing his usual blindfold, but his dark rectangular sunglasses. God, had he always looked this good? You felt your chest flutter and your heart beating faster.
Why in the world?
Seeing him in his outfit, you also knew he had a day off, and that he would come over to you in just a moment to ask where you were heading-and that when he found out, he would definitely ask to come along.
…
"No," you already stated for what felt like the tenth time, and he wasn't even considering backing out.
"But why~?" he suddenly pouted, blinking his lashes dramatically.
He always knew how to get to you.
"Fine, but-"
"Yayy~" he cut you off before you could finish your sentence and raised his fist in victory.
This was going to be a long day.
…
Later, you both went into different shops, trying on clothes and dresses. Though nothing caught your eye, Gojo didn't stop motivating you to continue searching.
He talked a lot about his students and how exhausting his work was. As a sorcerer yourself, you knew the challenges that came with it, but if you were already struggling, just how hard was it for him?
After a while, he saw a boba shop and dragged you in to get two large milk tea bobas with caramel syrup drizzled on top. You can't lie, he had good taste.
You passed many small boutiques until that one shop with the most gorgeous summer dress you had ever laid eyes on, displayed on one of the mannequins.
Practically sprinting into the shop, you left Gojo with the drink you had shoved into his arms before entering. He stood still for a second, shocked at your drastic movement, before following you inside.
You tried it on immediately, along with a few other skirts and blouses you thought were cute for going out. The dress was flowy, in a baby pink shade with little flowers at the bottom that slowly faded upward in the same tone. You fell in love with it at first sight.
This was the dress. You silently thanked Gojo for not letting you leave without buying anything, because fate had brought you here.
Nervously, you stepped outside.
"How do I look?" you asked, expecting Gojo to answer jokingly, telling you it was the ugliest thing he had ever seen on you.
Instead, he was in awe, seeing you in that stunning dress. His mouth wide open.
"You look... really beautiful," he murmured.
Gojo was flustered. His cheeks turned a rosy shade, and his ears bright red. You couldn't help but giggle at the way his eyes never left yours.
Gojo and flustered in the same sentence?
When you tried to take off the dress, the zipper got stuck, and it was hard for you to reach it. Thankfully, your best man was there to help. Calling his name, he got up faster than you could blink.
"I need help with this dress," you asked innocently.
Gojo just stood there like you had asked him to undress and do you right there in the changing room.
"Huh?"
"The dress, it's stuck," you repeated.
"Oh, right," he responded, sounding slightly disappointed, as if he wouldn't have minded undressing you in that changing room.
He entered the tiny room and tentatively placed his hands on your back. You flinched at the sudden touch. The proximity made the room feel even smaller. He wrapped his fingers around the zipper, gently pulling it down, revealing your whole back.
Then he slowly returned his hands to his pockets, acting as if his body wasn't desperate for your touch.
You thanked him with that sweet smile of yours, your eyes still sparkling with excitement because of your find.
Gojo was already at the door, waiting for you.
Just as you were about to pay, the woman at the front told you that "the handsome tall man" had already paid.
"You shouldn't have done that."
"But I did."
"Why?"
That made him think for a second.
"You looked so happy with it, and also you were taking too long, so praise me for my kindness," he joked.
You laughed at his respond and thanked him.
a/n yes, that is my boba order 🙄 and yes, it really is that good 🙌🏼
the kitchen smells like garlic, butter, and whatever expensive seasoning satoru bought last week because apparently “regular salt is boring.”
you’re standing at the stove stirring dinner while quietly regretting ever teaching your husband how to cook.
not because he’s bad at it, unfortunately, he’s annoyingly good.
but because now he treats the kitchen like his personal playground whenever you’re inside it.
“whatcha makin’?” satoru asks for the fourth time in ten minutes.
you don’t even turn around. “food.”
“woaah,” he gasps dramatically behind you. “really?”
you sigh.
already, you can feel him hovering nearby.
he never just stands normally either. no. he leans against counters dramatically, stretches himself over your shoulder unnecessarily, or wraps himself around you like an oversized cat who thinks personal space is offensive.
today seems to be one of those days.
before you can react, long arms slide around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his chest.
“satoru,” you warn immediately.
“what?” he hums innocently against your shoulder.
“i’m cooking.”
“and?”
“and you’re attached to me.”
“exactly.”
you close your eyes briefly. this man.
“go sit down.”
“don’t wanna.”
of course he doesn’t.
he rests his chin on your shoulder now, white hair tickling your cheek while he watches the pan like he’s genuinely interested in what you’re doing.
“…yer stirring too aggressively.”
you stop mid-motion, then slowly turn your head toward him.
“i’m sorry?”
“mhm,” he nods seriously. “the vegetables are scared.”
you stare at him flatly, he grins immediately.
there it is.
that stupid grin that says he knows exactly how annoying he’s being.
“you’re unbearable,” you mutter, turning back toward the stove.
“but ya love me.”
and you can’t even argue against it. because you do, way too much honestly.
you try focusing again, ignoring the way his fingers lazily tap against your stomach while he sways both of you side to side slightly.
for exactly twelve seconds.
then,
“baby.”
you sigh. “what.”
“kiss.”
“i’m cooking.”
“multitask.”
you snort despite yourself. instantly, he notices.
“there’s the laugh i wanted,” he says proudly.
you roll your eyes. “you’re acting like a child.”
“yeah, but i’m your child.”
“that is absolutely not romantic.”
“worked though.”
before you can respond, he suddenly steals the spoon from your hand.
“satoru-”
he takes a dramatic taste directly from it, humming thoughtfully like he’s judging a five-star restaurant.
“…needs more love.”
you blink.
“love?”
“mhm.”
“that’s not an ingredient.”
“sure it is.” he points the spoon toward you accusingly. “yer cooking while annoyed at me. the food can tell.”
you laugh again, quieter this time.
he’s impossible.
and somehow fully aware that making you laugh is exactly how he gets away with everything.
he beams the second he hears it, immediately tightening his arms around you.
“there it is.”
“you’re insane.”
“and yet ya married me anyway.”
fair.
you shake your head, reaching for the spoon again, but instead of giving it back immediately, he lifts it higher out of reach.
“satoru.”
“say please.”
you narrow your eyes. “i’m going to hit you with this pan.”
“violent. scary. terrifying even.”
“…satoru.”
he grins, then finally hands it back only to immediately steal a kiss from your cheek while you’re distracted.
you let out an annoyed sound, but he just laughs softly against your skin.
“worth it.”
you swear he gets clingier the longer you’re married. not less.
because now he follows you everywhere around the apartment like he physically cannot handle being more than three feet away from you.
and the worst part?
you’re used to it now.
used to the random kisses, the constant touching and the dramatic whining whenever you don’t give him attention immediately.
“baby,” he says again suddenly.
you point the spoon toward him threateningly. “if you ask for another kiss while i’m holding hot oil, i’m divorcing you.”
he gasps loudly.
“wow. so this is what our marriage has become?”
“you caused this.”
“false,” he says immediately. “i’m adorable.”
you finally turn toward him fully, raising a brow.
“…adorable.”
“mhm.”
“…not annoying?”
“both can exist.”
you hate that he’s right.
satoru notices your expression immediately and lights up like he’s won something.
“you think i’m cute.”
“i think you should leave my kitchen.”
instead of listening, he pulls you closer again, large hands settling against your hips this time.
then, without warning-
he buries his face into your neck dramatically.
“missed you today,” he mumbles.
your expression softens instantly.
ah.
there it is, underneath all the teasing, he just wanted attention.
you sigh quietly, setting the spoon down before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.
immediately, he melts against you, completely.
“you saw me this morning,” you murmur.
“too long ago.”
“…you’re needy.”
“only for you.”
his voice is quieter now, warmer.
and suddenly the teasing husband act slips just enough for you to see the softer part underneath it.
the real part.
you smile despite yourself, scratching lightly against his scalp.
“okay,” you whisper. “you can stay.”
he lifts his head immediately, grinning like he just won the lottery.
“sick. what’re we making?”
a/n : first time writing for gojo 👀👀 yall is this mic on 👀👀. tysm for reading and other than that theres nothing more to add !!
your ”friend“ and you are having a movie night except things end a little different than usual…
Pairing : Gojo Satoru x reader
cw : fluff::both characters are teens! :: friends to lovers
word count : 1,45k
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶︶⊹ ︶︶︶⊹ ︶
Actually, your whole friend group, which includes Shoko, Suguru and Satoru, was supposed to have a fun movie night today. But Suguru had a date with this sweet girl he had met walking to the bus station after a mission, and Shoko was having some kind of family emergency, which you didn’t quite catch when she explained it to you.
So that leaves just you and Satoru. It should feel normal to be in a room, on the couch at night, close together with a friend, right? But actually, you were freaking out. After what happened between you two a few weeks ago, you couldn‘t stop thinking about it.
Just a few weeks ago, when he brought you to your dorm after a party were you were drinking just slightly too much, you kissed him and he pulled away immediatly. What you didn’t remember was that he told you it was wrong because you were too drunk. Then he put you to bed and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before wishing you a good night.As drunk as you were, you fell asleep right away.
The next morning, you woke up regretting all of the shit you did that night. Why does this stuff happen to you? I mean, Gojo Satoru wasn‘t a bad-looking guy, hell, he was the complete opposite.
This man looked like he just popped out of a fashion magazine, with his hair always done and face soft like an ice cream mochi. But you convinced yourself that you just found him attractive and you were totally not into him, right?
Then why did you kiss him?
You saw him in class that day, but he (strangely) didn’t bring it up or tease you for it like he normally would. But you felt him staring at you while walking. His eyes never left you while you were training or even just talking to your friends.
This is humiliating.
Why did you do something so embarrassing? Just how much did you drink that night that your thoughts won and you kissed your best friend?
He wasn‘t avoiding you, but he definitely kept his distance. And so did you. You were only together in groups, and both Suguru and Shoko noticed your strange behavior. But of course, you didn’t tell Suguru and obviously not Shoko. She would make fun of you for it till the day they put your casket six feet under the ground.
And now that white-haired man was sitting right next to you on the couch, with a bag of chips and a drink in his hand. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a white shirt that lifted whenever he slid his dark, round sunglasses up. You couldn’t help but stare at his perfectly trained body and his V-line whenever his shirt lifted slightly.
Ever since he entered your dorm that night, he had that grin plastered on his face, like he knew way too much.
Also, this was the first time you were so close since the incident happened, and it couldn’t feel more awkward from your perspective. He, on the other hand, was as talkative as always, being annoying and asking questions throughout the entire movie just to get on your nerves because he knew how much it bothered you.
He loved seeing your flustered face whenever something annoyed you, the way you would frown. He would die just to stare at your beautiful face forever.
Yes, Satoru had a big crush on you since the day you met. Everyone knew about it except you. And Suguru always told him to finally confess. Even Shoko helped him by telling him the things you liked in a guy, but he was too afraid to ruin the friendship you had.
It’s pathetic, if you think about it. The strongest, scared? That can’t be right. He‘s the strongest!
That was until you made that stupid drunk mistake by kissing him.
How was he supposed to get you out of his mind now?
Even now, he was just remembering the way you gazed at him, how your soft lips felt against his for that brief second before he pulled away. Fuck, it took him so much willpower not to pull you closer.
Just as the movie finished and you wanted to get up to grab a glass of water, he held you by your wrist.
“Are you leaving me?” he asked, meeting your gaze. Bright blue eyes locking with yours.
You were surprised by his sudden question. Why does he care whether you’re leaving or not?
“I just want some water. Do you want some too?”
“I can’t forget what happened…” he stopped for a second before continuing, still holding your wrist—not painfully, but enough that you couldn’t pull away.
“…I think about you all the time. I can’‘t get you out of my head especially after that kiss.”
What? He was the one who pulled away. Is this some kind of prank to embarrass you even more?
You gasped at his words, lips sligthly parted, and he used that moment to gently close the distance between you and press his pink lips on yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, as if he was waiting for you to stop him.
”Tell me to stop, and I will.“ he murmured.
He was now placing kisses on your neck and colarbones , hungrier and more fiercly.
But you didn’t say no , a part of you knew it was wrong, that you‘ll ruin your friendship but another part needed him more than anything.
Your hand moved up instinctively, fingers brushing through his hair. He exhaled softly, like he had been holding his breath for far too long. His hands placed on your hips and waist keeping you close to him.
”Satoru… don’t stop“ you whispered.
He froze for a moment glancing at you. Is this real?
A soft smile appeared on his face something filled with love and warmth unlike his usual cocky smile.Then he continued to lock lips with yours.
In no time, you were laying down with your back pressed on the shallow couch and Satoru right on top of you. One hand on your hip, keeping you steady, and the other caging you in. His kisses were getting hungrier and more lustful.
Swiftly, he took off his shirt, revealing his milky skin, broad shoulders, and abs. Your fingers brushed over his muscles as he slipped his hands under your shirt and searched your face for approval. You nodded in response as he stripped off your shirt, and quickly after that followed your bra, leaving you bare-chested in front of him. He studied your body, kissing every part of it. This was the moment he waited for ever since he met you.
“Why did you pull away that night and why did you avoid me till now?” you thought out loud. As soon as the words escaped your mouth, you regretted it.
“You were drunk, dummy. I want to kiss you while you’re 100% fully present,” he grinned at you.
You couldn’t help but blush at his response.
“I thought you were embarrassed about it, so I let you calm down before we had a real kiss,” he grinned even harder now.
Even while making out with you, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“You don’t know how long I waited for this,” he spoke in between kisses.
“You know how cute you are when you shut up?” you returned, still in shock from what he said a second ago.
He chuckled, and his low voice gave you butterflies in your stomach. You felt his smile on you as he was kissing you a little above your belly button.
The makeout session turned into the deed rapidly. He was gentle, as if he was holding something extremely fragile.
Right after you both finished, he rested his head on your still bare chest. You held him by the shoulders and caressed his cheek.
“You know I like you,…a lot, right?” he asked quietly.
“What, like a friend?”
“No, I love you.”
Your heart skipped a beat before racing again.
He chuckled before joking how your fast heartbeat was so obviously because of his charisma and attractive being.
You rolled your eyes slightly, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.
“I love you too.”
You held him tighter and lay there comfortably for a good minute.The silence wasn’t awkward, it was rather calm.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” you sighed eventually, breaking the silence.
“Without me?” he asked dramatically, placing his hand over his chest as if he had been wounded.
A small smile tugged at your lips.
God, how were you going to explain this to Shoko and Suguru?
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶︶⊹ ︶︶︶⊹ ︶
a/n I‘m really afraid of writing detailed smut I think yall noticed 😣 but let‘s hope that‘ll change so I can improve my writing😤
You just came out of the shower, putting on your expensive body oil and lotion that Satoru had gifted you on a random Tuesday. It was pretty late, and he was still out on a mission.
Just thinking about your husband fighting curses while you were at home in your fluffy bathrobe and cat slippers made your heart ache. Poor him, you thought. Nobody except you knew how hard it was for him, even if he was the strongest. He was still human and had a heart.
After drying your hair and slipping into your pajamas, ready for bed, you heard the front door open and close again. Quickly, you walked to the bedroom door, but before you even laid a finger on the doorknob, somebody burst the door open. Satoru was standing there, his hair a mess and his blindfold loose around his neck.
He immediately put his hands on your waist and pulled you into a deep hug. He buried his head in your neck, and his snowy-white hair tickled your collarbones. Your hand started stroking his soft locks gently. Slowly, he tilted his head up, and for a long second, you just looked at each other before he lightly pressed his lips onto yours. It was slow and gentle like he was trying not to break you.
“Long day?”
“Mhm.”
“You want me to warm up some food? Or a warm bath? At least change your clothes.”
…
“Satoru?”
You called his name softly, his head still buried in your neck. You’d think he had already fallen asleep if you two weren’t standing.
“Don’t wanna talk, just want to be with you,” he muttered.
After a while, he finally agreed to change into his pajamas after taking the fastest shower he had ever taken.
You sat upright while Satoru lay on your lap on the large king-sized bed. His hands held your hips in place as your hand caressed his soft white locks.
“It’s funny, you know. I’m supposed to be the strongest 24/7, but with you, I can finally forget about that title. I can just… just be me.”
It was hard for him to show vulnerability, or rather, he was never allowed to show it. Ever since he was a child, his future had been written. But then you came into his life and changed that. He was so thankful for your presence that no words could truly express it.
“I love you,” he muttered and hid his face deeper in your lap because this really was the only place he wanted to be for the rest of his life: with you.
“I love you too, Satoru,” you whispered back before closing your eyelids and drifting off to sleep
a/n yo ladies I literally wrote this at like 3 am and also this is my first post so yepp. Also i‘m planning on writing longer fics but holy shit nobody told me how long it takes and how much you have to change in the process😪
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