Satoru Gojo had a habitâone you had long since accepted, though it never failed to make you laugh. The moment he spotted you anywhere near a surface remotely suitable for lounging, he latched onto you like a lazy, overgrown cat.
âSatoru, I have things to do,â you protested as he draped himself over you, his long limbs completely engulfing you on the couch.
âMm, no you donât,â he murmured, pressing his face into your neck. âYou have one job. And thatâs being my personal pillow.â
His arms tightened around you as he nuzzled closer, his breath warm against your skin. He was impossibly warm, a human heater, and the way he clung to you like you were the only thing grounding him made your heart squeeze.
âYouâre such a baby,â you muttered, running your fingers through his soft white hair.
âIâm your baby,â he corrected, sighing in bliss. âNow stop wiggling and let me love you.â
And just like that, your plans were forgotten. Because when Satoru Gojo wanted cuddles, there was no escaping.
It was evening by the time you returned from your mission, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. The sky outside was painted in soft hues of orange and pink, the last remnants of daylight fading into the quiet hum of campus life.
Today was your birthday.
Not that anyone seemed to remember.
You had tried not to dwell on it too much, pushing aside the hope that at least your closest friendsâShoko, Suguru, and Satoruâwould do something, anything, to celebrate with you. But the day had passed without so much as a mention.
Shoko had been buried in her work at the morgue, barely sparing you a glance when you passed by earlier. Suguru had been caught up in assisting Yaga with first-years, his usual gentle smile absent as he focused on training. And Satoruâwell, he was nowhere to be found, which wasnât all that unusual, but today, it stung a little more than it should have.
Maybe they really had forgotten.
With a quiet sigh, you walked through the dimly lit hallways, the familiar path to your dorm feeling lonelier than usual. You told yourself it didnât matterâit was just another day, right? Just another evening after a mission, just another quiet walk back to your room.
So why did it feel so heavy?
A small flicker of hope nudged at your thoughts, a quiet voice whisperingâmaybe they didnât forget.
Maybe they were just planning something. Maybe they were waiting in the classroom right now, ready to jump out and surprise you the moment you walked in.
The thought sent a rush of anticipation through you, enough to shake off the lingering disappointment. You quickly turned on your heel, making your way toward the classroom, your heart beating just a little faster.
But as you pushed open the door, the room greeted you with nothing but silence.
Empty.
The desks were neatly arranged, the chalkboard wiped clean, the soft hum of the evening air slipping in through the open windows. No decorations, no hidden figures waiting to jump out, no whispered giggles trying to suppress excitement.
Just an empty classroom.
You stood there for a moment, staring at the stillness, feeling the last bit of hope deflate from your chest.
So thatâs it, huh?
You sighed, forcing a small, self-deprecating smile as you leaned against the doorway. It wasnât like they had to remember. They were busyâShoko with her work, Suguru with the first-years, Satoru⊠wherever he was. It made sense. They had responsibilities, things more important than a birthday.
Still, as you stepped back into the hallway, the loneliness settled in a little deeper.
You walked to your dorm, shoulders heavy with exhaustion and the lingering disappointment you tried to shake off. With a quiet sigh, you reached for the doorknob, twisting it open with a soft click.
And suddenlyâ
BOOM!
Confetti exploded right in front of you, filling the air with bursts of color as a loud, unmistakable voice practically shook the wallsâ
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"
Satoru, the absolute menace, had a party popper in each hand, grinning like a madman as he set off another one just for good measure. "Surpriiiise!" he sang, loud and dramatic, while Suguru stood beside him, shaking his head with an exasperated smile.
Shoko, perched casually on your desk, raised her drink in a lazy toast. "Took you long enough to get here."
Your heart stuttered, eyes widening as you took everything in. The small table in your room, now transformed into the perfect birthday setupâdecorated neatly with soft, glowing fairy lights and a cake sitting right at the center. A ridiculously cute cake, with frosting swirled to perfection, topped with tiny edible decorations and a candle waiting to be lit.
And thenâoh god.
Your bed.
At least ten neatly wrapped gifts were sprawled across it, each in different sizes, some with colorful ribbons, others with bows that looked like theyâd been aggressively tied together (probably Satoruâs doing).
"Youâ" You turned to them, words caught in your throat. "You guys did remember?"
Suguru chuckled, stepping closer to gently ruffle your hair. "Of course we did. You really thought weâd forget?"
Satoru gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Wow, zero faith in us, huh? That hurts."
Shoko rolled her eyes. "Satoru wanted to jump out of your closet for extra drama, but we had to stop him."
"Wouldâve been iconic," Satoru huffed, crossing his arms. "But whatever. Nowâmake a wish, birthday star!"
Suguru had already lit the candle, the warm glow flickering gently as all three of them looked at you, waiting.
And just like that, the weight from earlier melted away.
They did remember. They cared. They had done all of this for you.
With a smile tugging at your lips, you stepped forward, heart full, and closed your eyes to make a wish.
You took a deep breath, the warm glow of the candle flickering against your face as you closed your eyes. A wish.
But what could you even wish for?
With Shoko smirking from the desk, Suguru watching you with that gentle, knowing gaze, and Satoru practically vibrating with excitement beside you, it felt like you already had everything you could ever want.
Still, you silently made one anywayâsomething soft, something simple. Then, with one gentle puff, you blew out the candle.
Cheers erupted around you.
Satoru clapped loud enough to wake half the campus. "YES! Now, time for presents!" He was already halfway to your bed, dramatically throwing himself onto the pile of gifts.
"Maybe let them cut the cake first?" Suguru sighed, dragging him back by the collar.
Shoko leaned over, knife in hand, already slicing into the cake. "Satoru, sit down and behave or no cake for you."
"WHâShoko, thatâs cruel!"
Laughter bubbled up inside you, something warm filling your chest as you took the first bite of your birthday cake. It was perfectâsweet and light, with just the right amount of fluffiness.
Suguru nudged your plate closer. "You like it? We made sure to get your favorite."
You swallowed, looking between them all. "I love it."
Satoru grinned. "Good, âcause I personally handpicked that cake, made sure it was the best of the best!"
Shoko scoffed. "Yeah, and you almost ate half of it on the way here."
Suguru sighed. "We literally had to stop him from âtaste-testingâ the whole thing."
Satoru looked entirely unbothered. "Hey, quality control is important!"
You laughedâgenuinely, happily.
As the night continued, you unwrapped presents one by one, each one making your heart swell. Thoughtful gifts, silly gifts, things you never even realized you wanted but somehow, they knew.
By the time youâd opened the last one, Satoru was already lying across your bed, arms dramatically spread. "BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER."
Suguru chuckled, settling beside him. "Iâd say so."
Shoko, lazily sipping her drink, smirked. "Yeah. You looked pretty miserable before you got here, you know."
You blinked, a little embarrassed. "I just⊠I really thought you guys forgot."
Satoru immediately sat up, eyes wide. "NEVER!" He pointed a finger at you, dramatically offended. "Weâd never forget you!"
Suguru hummed. "Youâre too important to us."
Shoko nodded, lifting her cup. "To our favorite person."
Your throat tightened, warmth blooming in your chest. You looked at themâat your best friends, your family.
"Thank you," you whispered, voice full of emotion.
Satoru threw an arm around you. "No more sappy stuff! This nightâs all about you! So, movie marathon? Midnight walk? Or should we let Suguru braid our hair again?"
Suguru chuckled. "You asked for that last time."
Shoko smirked. "It was funny seeing him struggle with Gojoâs hair."
You laughed, shaking your head. "Honestly? I donât care what we do." You looked at them, feeling lighter than you had all day. "As long as Iâm with you guys."
Satoru clutched his chest again. "Awww, now Iâm gonna cry!"
Shoko rolled her eyes. "You always cry."
Suguru smiled softly. "Then letâs just stay here a little longer."
And so, you didâsurrounded by warmth, laughter, and the people who loved you most.
A/n- First of allâHAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovely reader who requested this! I hope your day is filled with as much warmth and love as this fic (and maybe even some surprise gifts too!). This was so fun to write, and I loved making it as soft and fluffy as possible.
âĄHeâs a menace in bedâlike, an actual problem.
This man is cocky as hell and knows exactly what heâs doing.
He lives for teasingâdragging his fingers over your inner thighs, kissing everywhere except where you want him, making you beg.
And if you refuse? "Oh, c'mon, baby. Just say please, and Iâll give you what you want."
âĄOral fixation? Yeah, he has that.
Loves having something in his mouthâyour fingers, your thighs, your tits, your pussy, his fingers coated in your slick.
Goes down on you like heâs starved, like itâs his last meal.
Holds your thighs open when you try to squirm, moaning into your cunt just to make you feel the vibrations.
"Tastes so sweet, sweetheart. How could I ever get enough?"
âĄHe lives for overstimulation.
He doesnât stop after one round. Heâs insatiable, relentless, hungry for more.
Fucks you through your orgasm, his voice dripping with amusement as he watches you fall apart.
"You can give me one more, canât you? Câmon, baby, be good for me."
âĄHe loves seeing you fall apart.
Watching your legs shake, your breath hitch, the way you grab at him, sobbing his nameâthatâs his favorite fucking thing.
Heâll hold your chin, make you look at him, make you watch how wrecked you are.
"God, youâre so pretty like this, baby. So fucked-out and messy just for me."
âĄHe loves fucking you in front of a mirror.
Heâll press you against it, watching the way your mouth falls open, the way your tits bounce every time he slams into you.
"Look at yourself, baby. Look how good you take me."
âĄHe gets off on making you beg.
Will hover his cock over your entrance, teasing, rubbing the head against your slick folds, but not giving in.
"Say it, sweetheart. Tell me how much you want it."
He waits until youâre begging, whining, eyes glassy and desperateâthen he gives it to you.
âĄHe loves ruining you.
Bites your thighs, leaves bruises, sucks hickeys onto your neck.
Marks you everywhere just so you remember exactly who you belong to.
"Mine," he growls, biting your shoulder as he fucks you senseless.
âĄHe loves when you ride him.
Watching you on top, taking control, using him for your own pleasure? Thatâs his weakness.
"Thatâs it, baby, take what you need."
But letâs be realâheâll grab your hips and start fucking up into you the second you slow down.
âĄHis stamina is actually ridiculous.
Three rounds minimum. No breaks. No mercy.
"One more, sweetheart. I know you can take it."
And somehow, heâs still hard after heâs done.
âĄHeâs obsessed with creampies.
Loves filling you up, watching his cum leak out of you.
"Fuck, look at that. So full of me."
And then he fingers it back inside, groaning about how pretty you look stuffed full.
âĄHe doesnât just shut you up with his mouthâbut his dick as well.
If you talk back, if youâre bratty, if you tease him too much? Oh, sweetheartâheâs gonna fix that real quick.
"You talk too much, baby. Lemme give that pretty mouth something better to do."
And before you can say a word, heâs pushing his cock past your lips, groaning at how good you look with your mouth full.
"That's better. Now be a good girl and take it all, yeah?"
Loves when you choke on him, when your eyes water, when you try to pull away, but he holds your head there, groaning, fucking deeper.
âĄShower sex is his absolute favorite.
He loves pressing you against the cold glass, water cascading down your bodies as he fucks you deep, slow, filthy.
"Shh, sweetheart. Don't wanna slip, do you?" He grins, holding you up with one arm while his cock stretches you open.
Worships your body in the waterâtrailing soap down your curves, massaging your thighs, kissing your neck, sucking hickeys onto wet skin. And get to see you wetĂ2, even better.
Will drop to his knees and eat you out right thereâtongue deep, fingers curling inside you, gripping your thighs as you shake against him.
"Taste even better when you're all wet, baby."
And after youâre done? Heâll wash your hair, massage your scalp, kiss every inch of your skin, telling you how perfect you are.
synopsis- Yoichi nagumo has always regarded the decision of sakamoto retiring from being an assassinâ very blithe, he considered it was very indiscreet of him to leave all of a sudden for someone he claims he loved. After rion akaoâs death and sakamotoâs retirement it was only him left in the JAA. Love? itâs humorous how he'd never understand sakamotoâŠ..or this feeling of care and vulnerability. That's what he thought, until he met you.
series warnings- MDNI, extremely FLUFFY, nagumo gets HEADS over HEELS for reader, NAGUMO is so down in LOVE (wanna cry), baker!reader, ANGSTYYY, comfort, omg sakamoto and shin enjoy teasing nagumo, heisuke as our wingman, explicit SMUT, sloppy kisses, counter sex, unprotected p in v sex, nagumo's DICE, fingering, cunnilingus, wreaking orgasms, semi public(kinda), nagumo CRIES overwhelmed, reader ISN'T AWARE of nagumoâs profession, lots of lies, mentions of assassination exhibition arc, blood, nagumo is ready to tear the world apart for you, order members, omg so much moreâŠ. HAPPY ENDING.
w.c- ch 1- 2.7k | ch 2- ytc
trisha's mail- i am insufferable for characters who wear a baby face and kill mercilessly, thus I had to present my new man, my yoichi a fic, since tumblr doesn't has many, am I the only one who's hooked into sakadays?
đĄCh 1đĄ
Yoichi nagumo stood infront of the sakamoto stores, his back heavy with the compact case of his red tainted weapons. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his brown overcoat, surprisingly warm in contrast to his cold hands he scrubbed clean, washing away the splattered blood from his previous assassination.
His face held a smile. A smile so neat and so polite that it could only be defined as a boastful grin of a liar.
Shall he disguise himself? Maybe play a prank or twoâŠhe will be seeing one of his friends started out with, after so longâ taro sakamoto.
Nagumo darted his eyes, taking full account of the store, which was small and surprisingly neat. It was a two storeyed building, nagumo criticized the open signboard hung in front of the glass entrance. He, then, scanned inside of the store, smile widening a bit when he found no human presence lingering around. How about he disguises as sakamoto himself, plus it'd be fun to see how his old friend reacts after his retirement.
Entering the store, disguised as sakamoto, he went behind the counter and took a seat he supposed sakamoto might take. Spread out on the counter was newspaper folded messily, a cranky cash register, and some small spreads of candy, snacks and other daily convenience necessities. He picked up on the newspaper pretending to read it as he picked up on the dull sound of approaching footsteps.
A guy with blonde hair, middle partition and some shaggy clothes entered, with a green apron and his name batch pinned over it. Shin was printed on it.
Nagumo noticed. âShin asakuraâ and he recognised. The esper guy Sakamoto worked with after leaving the order. He had also heard that Shin had too left being an assassin and joined being an assistant in this store. He searched for a red haired chinese girl, who is also said to have started here a few days ago.
Nagumo waited patiently, subsiding his giggles inside he darted his eyes again on the door seeing a girl enter lazily. Ahh lu shaotangâ the other assistant, whose main job is to make pork buns.
He sat quietly pretending to read the newspaper.
It wasn't long until both of them started arguing, making Nagumo's dopamine rush through his veins. With a bang on the counter table, shin whined âsakamoto san, we have to fire this girl!â pointing an accusatory finger on his back over the girl with pink jacket, who didn't cared even a bit.
Nagumo contemplated a little what shall he say? Maybe behave a little out of it, it'd be fun to see both of their stupefied reactions.
âNow, now shin!â He said, âWe don't say mean things like that here.â taking both of them by surprise, who aren't able to comprehend how come their boss all of a sudden became so chatty, and started questioning his sudden behaviour.
Its fun, nagumo thought. Why not enjoy it with more spice. âHow rude.â He replied to their thread of questions. âI will kill you.â
And this was enough to gawk both of the assistants, enough to let their jaw wide open touching the floor, but before nagumo to have anymore of fun the door opened again and his friend entered, unphased by seeing his doppelganger infront of him.
Nagumo knew sakamoto realised it was him, but I'd be more fun to attack with a knife to shake up both of the assistants even more. But most of all he wanted to see, if sakamotoâs senses dulled over the span of 5 years.
Instantly he pulled out a knife and stuck it in the newspaper sakamoto picked up, which was disregarded by him a few minutes ago. Tearing the newspaper from the middle he saw sakamoto dodge the attack, before getting hold of a cutter, threatening his neck.
He was no less of a deal too, in a blink his gun stayed plastered to sakamoto's head, before sakamoto pulls back the cutter and draws the blade back in. âLong time no see, nagumo.â His glasses gleamed, as his face fat made his voice sound a little thicker than nagumo had heard years ago.
âI see you can still move, Sakamoto!â He said chirpy, before dismissing the disguise, shocking shin and lu. And it wasn't long for them to throw hands at him. Nagumo was right, sakamoto's senses haven't dulled but it has rusted a bit. He wondered how fast he would have thrown his body to the ground, back slammed on the floor and instead of a paper cutter, sakamoto's hand would have adorned his signature gun he never swapped out after graduating from JCC, if he had not retired already.
Who knew the legendary Hitman would chicken out of the game one day in the name ofâŠ..love?
And get this bulky. For once nagumo thought to slap his huge round belly to see if the fat ripples through.
After another thread of lies, he was bound on a chair by sakamoto's two assistants, it's not like he can't break apart the rope but he just didn't. âthereâs a bounty on sakamoto's head. The reward is one billion yen.â
He explained, as his assistants refused to believe him, but their doubts were soon dispelled as soon as they took down the pizza assassin.
Nagumo only wanted to inform his friend about the bounty on his head. That's why he visited. Or that's what he was trying to tell himself. He didn't quite understand why he visited after so many yearsâŠ.after rion akao died, it was both of them. Nagumo thought since sakamoto is still there it'd be okay. But it wasn't long until he retired saying he fell in love. Sakamoto quitted the order, and eventually wiped his hands of assassination. Without even saying a goodbye. He married and had a child. And nagumo was left all alone. Though he never stopped smiling.
And after 5 years when he learned about the bounty on his friendâs head, he couldn't help but feel a bit odd. What an odd world of liars he lives in?
Akao said she would graduate with both of them. Yet, she didn't.
Sakamoto said he would be there till the end, yet he didn't.
âWhy did both of you left me alone?â He wanted an answer, but he never asked. Knowing one isn't alive to answer and the other would just dismiss his question.
He disposed the body of the pizza assassin near the garbage disposal area. He smiled another gleeful smile, before taking out his fist from his coat pockets and rolled the small white dice on the road.
The dive stopped rolling. One dot. Nagumo chuckled. âI wouldn't consider it unluckyâŠâ he said, before dismantling his compact of weapons as a curved blade of an arms length slipped right through his fingers, which ended up landing into the pizza assassinâs fourth and fifth rib.
A shriek of unpleasant screaming rose through the air, and intensified even more as nagumo twisted the blade with his index and thumb. Filthy red splattered over his silhouette, as if the strokes of a frizzy brush from someone who attempted to paint the crimson flowers of death. How sad he will have to pay for his laundry again.
After changing his clothes, which he always keeps a set of two at hand, he set out his foot towards home. He'd a call from the JAA headquarters, Tokyo to attend the next day. Ofcourse he wouldn't want to get any less of sleep.
He knew sakamoto won't kill anyone, and even though he wouldn't show it on his face, the reason sakamoto stopped killing cringes him. If anything love only brings in vulnerability, and loss of power.
And if anything he'd learned all these years being in assassination field, he knew that power is easy to gain than to hold on. He'd seen his friends gaining the very top before falling down from the peak. Except for sakamoto who chose to step down.
Nagumoâs smile lines faded a bit, expression grave, will he too oneday lose all of it? Nothing is certain in life, it flows and changes its direction like a river, ticks away with time and evolves into new colours with each season. However, ever since he joined the order his season of life has always been the same: the fall.
All the dried crinkly leaves fell off years ago, yet no tree has ever sprouted a lively green. The winter keeps snowing, covering the mud with its dusty white, but the spring never comes.
Nagumo kept walking without noticing where his feets were leading him, his head faced down and hands in his coat, eyes simply gazed over the red old tiles, the footpath, and the small black lines dividing each section. At moments of his trance, he felt someone bumping into him.
He would have normally walked away, without bothering to peer at the person, but for some reason he felt a tug on his right sleeve. The person was refusing to let go. A muscle ticked in his arm, ready on first instinct to throw a punch over the face, âexcuse me?â
A girl's voice?
Nagumo's body soothed as he turned to take proper account of you. Your one hand was clasping over his coatâs fabric, whereas the other was fumbling the inside of her tote bag.
You take out a hello kitty bandaid and shove it towards him. Confused, Nagumo tilts his head, face has regained its merry rictus.
âYes?â
âYour hand is bleedingâŠâ
Nagumo's eyes widen a bit as he speculates his hand and then looks at the bright red stain on his coat. Another laundry. He looked at the cut between his fingers, which must have sliced through when he was pulling out the blades. âIs it?â He faked his astonishment.
âThat seems to be deepâŠyou should disinfect it right away. How did you get hurt?â You bat your innocent eyes at him, before taking a look at the compact case hanging on his back with the help of a strap looped over his body. Nagumo felt his mouth dry. Well umm how does he even phrase it properlyâŠ
âA technician? You carry tools in that?â Nagumo stared at you blankly, as his brain stopped processing his thoughts, âyesâ a lie slipped off pretty easily from his mouth. It's easy and convenient to lie.
You bring Nagumo's hand gently, while applying the bandaid, looped perfectly over his cuts, when he doesn't make the move to accept the help. âYou should take care of yourself.â You say frowning your brows a bit at him.
âYeah I will. Thanks.â
You smile at him before turning and taking your leave. Whereas nagumo stayed glued to the spot, watching you disappear among crowds. He peered down his hand, the hello kitty doodles stared back at him. What just happened?
Ever since that incident nagumo has lost half a quarter of his sleep, astir for no reason. Could it be the pressure of the work and the mysterious massacre caused by slurâ or could it be him drifting into a relentless void staring at the hello kitty band aid given by you which he, for some ridiculous reason, framed it.
Or it could be for the number of times he visited the same alley hoping to catch sight of your fuzzy white scarf and maybe a hello kitty bandaid to offerâŠ
Why was he even doing that?
Has he gone crazy?
Well, probably he has.
Whatever he was, Nagumo had less time to criticize himself for his sleep schedule or find the reason of trigger to his insomnia. He was on a mission to executeâ find the B-grade assassin, who is suspected to have hands knotted with slurâ Edo Nakamura.
And surprisingly enough his last sightings were spotted in the same alley nagumo was granted to lay his eyes on your soft frame.
After collecting several pieces of information about Edoâs past from the mission handler, nagumo noted 3 facts about him.
Edo had a history with an illegal orphanage which was later burned down for certain unknown reasons.
His speciality was poisons. He was among the very few male students from the poison department of jcc. After graduation he joined the Tokyo quarters before vanishing into thin air right when the massacre started.
And lastly, he was said to have a sister.
And that specific sister runs her own bakery, which is also somewhere situated amidst the nooks and hooks of this alley.
Edo is suspected of treachery and might have caused the opening to the breaking of the Tokyo headquarters. And from what the papers suggests, it took less than a millisecond for nagumo to come to the conclusion that Edo might have visited his sister before his traces faded.
And that sister might lead to the advantage of revealing the pathway to slurâs so-called puppet âEdoâ.
âLittle a lotââ was the name of the bakeryâŠ.and it wasn't a hassle when just a few turns led to the vibrant blue of old summer sky drew him in.
Nagumo thought to himself, what'd this serene peace of blue would look like if he rather tainted it with splatters of chaotic blood.
What if the slow tendrils of this freshly baked bread had a hint of metallic, iron like pungency? His lips creaked as corners turn upwards in a gleaming smile. Shall he force edoâs sister to lure him in here and satisfy the itch of his palm?
âClang-dong'
A step echoed as he entered the bakery. It was quiet inside and the owner wasn't seen to be near.
Nagumo swallowed his chuckle. It'd be so fun to break this silent melody with wretched screams. Shall he hide? Oh it'd be very fine to kill them both wouldn't it? the brother and the sister, both? After all, they might feel lonely if one crossed the line of death but the other didn't. Wouldn't they?
âClang-dongâ
âOh, a customer! I'm sorry I wasn't around, what would you need siâ hey aren't you the guy from the other day?â
â...huh?â
âIs your wound healed now?... don't you remember me? I'm the one who offered you a bandaid that day whenââ
Nagumo interrupts, âare you the owner of this bakery?â
âUm yeah?...â You tilt your head in confusion at the black haired guy you met a few days ago. âDo you need something from here?â
âUhâŠyeah anything baked you feelâd be the best.â Nagumo answers after a while. What was it supposed to mean? You were EdoâsâŠsister? The broad plan of executing double murders was long forgotten from his mind, replaced by a dull throb in his chest and ragged breaths.
You nodded your head slipping behind the counter and packing some of the freshly baked blueberry muffins from the oven into the takeout box. Your delicate fingers brushed back your strands of hair, before drawing out a paper bag to proceed with his order.
âThat'd be 3,500 yen. IâŠuh.. packed you blueberry muffins.â You stated, a bit nervously as the huge man kept staring at you with blank eyes.
â...yeah. thanks.â Nagumo handed down the cash to the coin tray on the counter with one hand while the other took his unplanned pakage after shoving his wallet back to his pocket.
Your fingers brushed with his ever so slightly and the dull throb on his chest intensified. He felt delirious, dizzy and unorganised. What was wrong, wasn't he supposed to stop with his bullshit and rather execute his mission?
He didn't stop walking until he was out of the bakery. Or till the some sort of intensified throb on his chest calmed. Only then did he walk back in.
He'd straight go to work. Get the details about edo andâ
âYou forgot something, Sir?â
Silence.
âUhâŠyour name?â what the heck? Wasn't he about to ask about edo?
âY/n. And yours?â You said, shades of faint red painting your cheeks. Your name was so beautiful, he thought.
âyoichi. Nagumo yoichi.â
Back on his way home, he repeated your name several times in several different tones and felt an unusual rush of fervor delight rushing through his veins, similar yet even more intense than when he kills on his missions.
Authors note: Sry I haven't uploaded in a while :( My grandfather died not too long ago and on top of that, i've had no motivation and energy in Ramadanđđ«
Choso would be a flustered and blushing MESS. He is also the kind of man who would love how the sari would squeeze your love handles and belly fat. Heâs like a Victorian child seeing ankles for the first time (as if he hasnât seen you butt booty nakedđ)
You were getting ready for a wedding you had been invited to. You didnât go to weddings that often, and therefore it had been quite some years since you last wore a sareeâresulting in you having to borrow one from your friend which was more petite..Â
Choso had seen the magenta outfit on the bed and the yellow-gold jewelry on the table right by. He had never seen an outfit like this and nonetheless on you. This sparked curiosity on how you would look in this outfit that already looked beautiful by itself. You entered your shared room, finding Choso and smiling at him.
âIâve never seen you inâŠuh, an outfit like this before,â he said as he pointed towards the saree.
âYeah, I donât really like wearing a sareeâ
âWhy not?â
âIâll get ready and show youâ
He walked out of your shared bedroom confused. 20 minutes later you entered the living room where Choso sat and waited patiently. His gaze shifted from his phone towards you when he heard you come down the stairs.
âUgh, I hate how it squeezes my hip dips. My belly too but at least thatâs covered.â
You continued ranting about how you didn't like how you looked in the saree, but Choso hadnât moved his gaze from you the moment you walked into the living room in that stunning outfit.Â
Your face shifted toward where he was sitting, and you waved your hand in front of his face to get him out of his head. âYou okay?â
âUhâŠYeah!â His ears were visibly red. âBut I just donât understand why you donât like the way you look in a saree. I can confidently say that Iâve never seen you look more beautiful. Although you look beautiful every day!â
He walked to you and softly placed his hands on your hips. âAnd I especially love how the saree shows off your love handles. It also makes it easier for me to grab them,â he smiled excitedly.
What did you do to deserve this man. You kissed his lips, leaving a stain from your lipstick. âThanks Choso. Maybe Iâll wear a saree more often if you like it that much?â
âOh my days yes!â He hugged you tightly but quickly realized you had just gotten ready and didn't want to mess up your outfit. âOh sorry, did I ruin your makeup?â
âI couldn't care less,â you said as you looked up at him with eyes full of love. He smiled at you, the corners of his lips reaching his eyes.
It was evening by the time you returned from your mission, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. The sky outside was painted in soft hues of orange and pink, the last remnants of daylight fading into the quiet hum of campus life.
Today was your birthday.
Not that anyone seemed to remember.
You had tried not to dwell on it too much, pushing aside the hope that at least your closest friendsâShoko, Suguru, and Satoruâwould do something, anything, to celebrate with you. But the day had passed without so much as a mention.
Shoko had been buried in her work at the morgue, barely sparing you a glance when you passed by earlier. Suguru had been caught up in assisting Yaga with first-years, his usual gentle smile absent as he focused on training. And Satoruâwell, he was nowhere to be found, which wasnât all that unusual, but today, it stung a little more than it should have.
Maybe they really had forgotten.
With a quiet sigh, you walked through the dimly lit hallways, the familiar path to your dorm feeling lonelier than usual. You told yourself it didnât matterâit was just another day, right? Just another evening after a mission, just another quiet walk back to your room.
So why did it feel so heavy?
A small flicker of hope nudged at your thoughts, a quiet voice whisperingâmaybe they didnât forget.
Maybe they were just planning something. Maybe they were waiting in the classroom right now, ready to jump out and surprise you the moment you walked in.
The thought sent a rush of anticipation through you, enough to shake off the lingering disappointment. You quickly turned on your heel, making your way toward the classroom, your heart beating just a little faster.
But as you pushed open the door, the room greeted you with nothing but silence.
Empty.
The desks were neatly arranged, the chalkboard wiped clean, the soft hum of the evening air slipping in through the open windows. No decorations, no hidden figures waiting to jump out, no whispered giggles trying to suppress excitement.
Just an empty classroom.
You stood there for a moment, staring at the stillness, feeling the last bit of hope deflate from your chest.
So thatâs it, huh?
You sighed, forcing a small, self-deprecating smile as you leaned against the doorway. It wasnât like they had to remember. They were busyâShoko with her work, Suguru with the first-years, Satoru⊠wherever he was. It made sense. They had responsibilities, things more important than a birthday.
Still, as you stepped back into the hallway, the loneliness settled in a little deeper.
You walked to your dorm, shoulders heavy with exhaustion and the lingering disappointment you tried to shake off. With a quiet sigh, you reached for the doorknob, twisting it open with a soft click.
And suddenlyâ
BOOM!
Confetti exploded right in front of you, filling the air with bursts of color as a loud, unmistakable voice practically shook the wallsâ
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"
Satoru, the absolute menace, had a party popper in each hand, grinning like a madman as he set off another one just for good measure. "Surpriiiise!" he sang, loud and dramatic, while Suguru stood beside him, shaking his head with an exasperated smile.
Shoko, perched casually on your desk, raised her drink in a lazy toast. "Took you long enough to get here."
Your heart stuttered, eyes widening as you took everything in. The small table in your room, now transformed into the perfect birthday setupâdecorated neatly with soft, glowing fairy lights and a cake sitting right at the center. A ridiculously cute cake, with frosting swirled to perfection, topped with tiny edible decorations and a candle waiting to be lit.
And thenâoh god.
Your bed.
At least ten neatly wrapped gifts were sprawled across it, each in different sizes, some with colorful ribbons, others with bows that looked like theyâd been aggressively tied together (probably Satoruâs doing).
"Youâ" You turned to them, words caught in your throat. "You guys did remember?"
Suguru chuckled, stepping closer to gently ruffle your hair. "Of course we did. You really thought weâd forget?"
Satoru gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Wow, zero faith in us, huh? That hurts."
Shoko rolled her eyes. "Satoru wanted to jump out of your closet for extra drama, but we had to stop him."
"Wouldâve been iconic," Satoru huffed, crossing his arms. "But whatever. Nowâmake a wish, birthday star!"
Suguru had already lit the candle, the warm glow flickering gently as all three of them looked at you, waiting.
And just like that, the weight from earlier melted away.
They did remember. They cared. They had done all of this for you.
With a smile tugging at your lips, you stepped forward, heart full, and closed your eyes to make a wish.
You took a deep breath, the warm glow of the candle flickering against your face as you closed your eyes. A wish.
But what could you even wish for?
With Shoko smirking from the desk, Suguru watching you with that gentle, knowing gaze, and Satoru practically vibrating with excitement beside you, it felt like you already had everything you could ever want.
Still, you silently made one anywayâsomething soft, something simple. Then, with one gentle puff, you blew out the candle.
Cheers erupted around you.
Satoru clapped loud enough to wake half the campus. "YES! Now, time for presents!" He was already halfway to your bed, dramatically throwing himself onto the pile of gifts.
"Maybe let them cut the cake first?" Suguru sighed, dragging him back by the collar.
Shoko leaned over, knife in hand, already slicing into the cake. "Satoru, sit down and behave or no cake for you."
"WHâShoko, thatâs cruel!"
Laughter bubbled up inside you, something warm filling your chest as you took the first bite of your birthday cake. It was perfectâsweet and light, with just the right amount of fluffiness.
Suguru nudged your plate closer. "You like it? We made sure to get your favorite."
You swallowed, looking between them all. "I love it."
Satoru grinned. "Good, âcause I personally handpicked that cake, made sure it was the best of the best!"
Shoko scoffed. "Yeah, and you almost ate half of it on the way here."
Suguru sighed. "We literally had to stop him from âtaste-testingâ the whole thing."
Satoru looked entirely unbothered. "Hey, quality control is important!"
You laughedâgenuinely, happily.
As the night continued, you unwrapped presents one by one, each one making your heart swell. Thoughtful gifts, silly gifts, things you never even realized you wanted but somehow, they knew.
By the time youâd opened the last one, Satoru was already lying across your bed, arms dramatically spread. "BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER."
Suguru chuckled, settling beside him. "Iâd say so."
Shoko, lazily sipping her drink, smirked. "Yeah. You looked pretty miserable before you got here, you know."
You blinked, a little embarrassed. "I just⊠I really thought you guys forgot."
Satoru immediately sat up, eyes wide. "NEVER!" He pointed a finger at you, dramatically offended. "Weâd never forget you!"
Suguru hummed. "Youâre too important to us."
Shoko nodded, lifting her cup. "To our favorite person."
Your throat tightened, warmth blooming in your chest. You looked at themâat your best friends, your family.
"Thank you," you whispered, voice full of emotion.
Satoru threw an arm around you. "No more sappy stuff! This nightâs all about you! So, movie marathon? Midnight walk? Or should we let Suguru braid our hair again?"
Suguru chuckled. "You asked for that last time."
Shoko smirked. "It was funny seeing him struggle with Gojoâs hair."
You laughed, shaking your head. "Honestly? I donât care what we do." You looked at them, feeling lighter than you had all day. "As long as Iâm with you guys."
Satoru clutched his chest again. "Awww, now Iâm gonna cry!"
Shoko rolled her eyes. "You always cry."
Suguru smiled softly. "Then letâs just stay here a little longer."
And so, you didâsurrounded by warmth, laughter, and the people who loved you most.
A/n- First of allâHAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovely reader who requested this! I hope your day is filled with as much warmth and love as this fic (and maybe even some surprise gifts too!). This was so fun to write, and I loved making it as soft and fluffy as possible.
It was evening by the time you returned from your mission, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. The sky outside was painted in soft hues of orange and pink, the last remnants of daylight fading into the quiet hum of campus life.
Today was your birthday.
Not that anyone seemed to remember.
You had tried not to dwell on it too much, pushing aside the hope that at least your closest friendsâShoko, Suguru, and Satoruâwould do something, anything, to celebrate with you. But the day had passed without so much as a mention.
Shoko had been buried in her work at the morgue, barely sparing you a glance when you passed by earlier. Suguru had been caught up in assisting Yaga with first-years, his usual gentle smile absent as he focused on training. And Satoruâwell, he was nowhere to be found, which wasnât all that unusual, but today, it stung a little more than it should have.
Maybe they really had forgotten.
With a quiet sigh, you walked through the dimly lit hallways, the familiar path to your dorm feeling lonelier than usual. You told yourself it didnât matterâit was just another day, right? Just another evening after a mission, just another quiet walk back to your room.
So why did it feel so heavy?
A small flicker of hope nudged at your thoughts, a quiet voice whisperingâmaybe they didnât forget.
Maybe they were just planning something. Maybe they were waiting in the classroom right now, ready to jump out and surprise you the moment you walked in.
The thought sent a rush of anticipation through you, enough to shake off the lingering disappointment. You quickly turned on your heel, making your way toward the classroom, your heart beating just a little faster.
But as you pushed open the door, the room greeted you with nothing but silence.
Empty.
The desks were neatly arranged, the chalkboard wiped clean, the soft hum of the evening air slipping in through the open windows. No decorations, no hidden figures waiting to jump out, no whispered giggles trying to suppress excitement.
Just an empty classroom.
You stood there for a moment, staring at the stillness, feeling the last bit of hope deflate from your chest.
So thatâs it, huh?
You sighed, forcing a small, self-deprecating smile as you leaned against the doorway. It wasnât like they had to remember. They were busyâShoko with her work, Suguru with the first-years, Satoru⊠wherever he was. It made sense. They had responsibilities, things more important than a birthday.
Still, as you stepped back into the hallway, the loneliness settled in a little deeper.
You walked to your dorm, shoulders heavy with exhaustion and the lingering disappointment you tried to shake off. With a quiet sigh, you reached for the doorknob, twisting it open with a soft click.
And suddenlyâ
BOOM!
Confetti exploded right in front of you, filling the air with bursts of color as a loud, unmistakable voice practically shook the wallsâ
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"
Satoru, the absolute menace, had a party popper in each hand, grinning like a madman as he set off another one just for good measure. "Surpriiiise!" he sang, loud and dramatic, while Suguru stood beside him, shaking his head with an exasperated smile.
Shoko, perched casually on your desk, raised her drink in a lazy toast. "Took you long enough to get here."
Your heart stuttered, eyes widening as you took everything in. The small table in your room, now transformed into the perfect birthday setupâdecorated neatly with soft, glowing fairy lights and a cake sitting right at the center. A ridiculously cute cake, with frosting swirled to perfection, topped with tiny edible decorations and a candle waiting to be lit.
And thenâoh god.
Your bed.
At least ten neatly wrapped gifts were sprawled across it, each in different sizes, some with colorful ribbons, others with bows that looked like theyâd been aggressively tied together (probably Satoruâs doing).
"Youâ" You turned to them, words caught in your throat. "You guys did remember?"
Suguru chuckled, stepping closer to gently ruffle your hair. "Of course we did. You really thought weâd forget?"
Satoru gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Wow, zero faith in us, huh? That hurts."
Shoko rolled her eyes. "Satoru wanted to jump out of your closet for extra drama, but we had to stop him."
"Wouldâve been iconic," Satoru huffed, crossing his arms. "But whatever. Nowâmake a wish, birthday star!"
Suguru had already lit the candle, the warm glow flickering gently as all three of them looked at you, waiting.
And just like that, the weight from earlier melted away.
They did remember. They cared. They had done all of this for you.
With a smile tugging at your lips, you stepped forward, heart full, and closed your eyes to make a wish.
You took a deep breath, the warm glow of the candle flickering against your face as you closed your eyes. A wish.
But what could you even wish for?
With Shoko smirking from the desk, Suguru watching you with that gentle, knowing gaze, and Satoru practically vibrating with excitement beside you, it felt like you already had everything you could ever want.
Still, you silently made one anywayâsomething soft, something simple. Then, with one gentle puff, you blew out the candle.
Cheers erupted around you.
Satoru clapped loud enough to wake half the campus. "YES! Now, time for presents!" He was already halfway to your bed, dramatically throwing himself onto the pile of gifts.
"Maybe let them cut the cake first?" Suguru sighed, dragging him back by the collar.
Shoko leaned over, knife in hand, already slicing into the cake. "Satoru, sit down and behave or no cake for you."
"WHâShoko, thatâs cruel!"
Laughter bubbled up inside you, something warm filling your chest as you took the first bite of your birthday cake. It was perfectâsweet and light, with just the right amount of fluffiness.
Suguru nudged your plate closer. "You like it? We made sure to get your favorite."
You swallowed, looking between them all. "I love it."
Satoru grinned. "Good, âcause I personally handpicked that cake, made sure it was the best of the best!"
Shoko scoffed. "Yeah, and you almost ate half of it on the way here."
Suguru sighed. "We literally had to stop him from âtaste-testingâ the whole thing."
Satoru looked entirely unbothered. "Hey, quality control is important!"
You laughedâgenuinely, happily.
As the night continued, you unwrapped presents one by one, each one making your heart swell. Thoughtful gifts, silly gifts, things you never even realized you wanted but somehow, they knew.
By the time youâd opened the last one, Satoru was already lying across your bed, arms dramatically spread. "BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER."
Suguru chuckled, settling beside him. "Iâd say so."
Shoko, lazily sipping her drink, smirked. "Yeah. You looked pretty miserable before you got here, you know."
You blinked, a little embarrassed. "I just⊠I really thought you guys forgot."
Satoru immediately sat up, eyes wide. "NEVER!" He pointed a finger at you, dramatically offended. "Weâd never forget you!"
Suguru hummed. "Youâre too important to us."
Shoko nodded, lifting her cup. "To our favorite person."
Your throat tightened, warmth blooming in your chest. You looked at themâat your best friends, your family.
"Thank you," you whispered, voice full of emotion.
Satoru threw an arm around you. "No more sappy stuff! This nightâs all about you! So, movie marathon? Midnight walk? Or should we let Suguru braid our hair again?"
Suguru chuckled. "You asked for that last time."
Shoko smirked. "It was funny seeing him struggle with Gojoâs hair."
You laughed, shaking your head. "Honestly? I donât care what we do." You looked at them, feeling lighter than you had all day. "As long as Iâm with you guys."
Satoru clutched his chest again. "Awww, now Iâm gonna cry!"
Shoko rolled her eyes. "You always cry."
Suguru smiled softly. "Then letâs just stay here a little longer."
And so, you didâsurrounded by warmth, laughter, and the people who loved you most.
A/n- First of allâHAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovely reader who requested this! I hope your day is filled with as much warmth and love as this fic (and maybe even some surprise gifts too!). This was so fun to write, and I loved making it as soft and fluffy as possible.
BETWEEN FORMULAS, FLOWERS AND FEELINGS - SATORU GOJO
You are the imbalance in Satoruâs logical and rational reasoning.
pairing: nerd! gojo x student council president! reader
summary: being the student council president isnât the easiest job in the world. Itâs not like gojo â with his trademark glasses, his awkward smile hiding the most dangerous brain. because for him, he can resolve every problem, right? there is no formula that can escape his smart mind. not even you. so when he accepts to tutor you, could he really be sure feelings wonât become a new variable?
warnings: +18 MDNI, nsfw, smut, virgin! gojo, first time, oral (m! receiving), pinning, college AU, shojo vibes, quantum physics subject, slight angst, fluff, idiots in love, insecure! gojo, nerd gojo with glasses is hot, art by @/3-aem.
wc: 9,922
Ever since he was little, Satoru Gojo seemed to have been blessed with knowledge.
His very first Christmas toy â when he was finally old enough to have one â was a huge playset containing chemical transformation recipes to prepare by himself, using a handful of formulas and calculations.
When he turned ten, his parents gifted him a kit that allowed him to build his own electric train circuit, which he had to assemble using physics methods so that real electricity could power his trains â and sometimes even his cars.
By the time he reached middle school, scientific subjects like physics and chemistry became his second mother. Nothing escaped him. Formulas, molecular mechanisms, and chemical transformations held no secrets. This passion for complex methods shaped his logic.
For every problem, Satoru always found a solution. To him, the world was nothing but a set of solvable scientific probabilities, where nothing could slip through his grasp.
But growing up with barely controllable hormones⊠poor Satoru had experienced firsthand just how bitter that could taste, even at university.
The first time he asked a girl from his middle school to go out with him in his third year, Satoru never would have thought sheâd laugh right in his face before calling him a useless nerd.
He didnât let anything show. And yet, it was from that very day that Satoruâs glasses, his passion for science, and his own self-confidence betrayed him.
He decided to give up on feelings â classifying them as a deceitful, unscientific belief with a complete lack of logic, something better suited for grotesque purposes like the movies or romantic TV series that entertained uncultured people.
Satoru didnât need emotions when logic always prevailed, never once disappointing him.
But upon entering university, he could never understand why â despite his silence and absolute discretion, buried in his studies â his cerulean blue eyes always seemed to find their way back to you.
You were the student council president of the school. Known for your upright mind, flawless organization, and a sense of justice so firm it sometimes bordered on harshness.
You had no time for anyone. You spent your days planning university events without wasting a single second â a notebook always pressed against your chest, and occasionally, a pair of glasses perched on your nose during intense activities like studying for exams or arranging event halls, which were regularly occupied by you and your staff.
What intrigued Satoru the most about you was your logic.
You planned everything, organized everything, all while maintaining grades nearly as excellent as his. You never wasted time hanging around with those ridiculous girls who would likely reject him if he ever dared to speak to them, and he had already admire witnessed you standing up for people like him â those trapped in their introversion and buried in their books â refusing to tolerate the injustice caused by the schoolâs most popular students.
A deep respect radiated from you.
Something Satoru refused to admit. Even though he knew you could short-circuit his brain in an instant.
Like that time when you had asked him for a pen at the library during your study session because he wasnât far from your table. His face had turned crimson, and he could have sworn smoke was coming out of his ears. His mouth â so used to speaking with precision and efficiency â completely failed him in front of you.
The words got stuck in his throat, and the few sounds that miraculously managed to escape were nothing but incomprehensible stutters, earning him a confused frown from you.
In the end, he gave up on any attempt at conversation and simply handed you the best pen in his pencil case â his favorite. And he had almost silently prayed in his head that you would forget to return it so that you would keep it with you.
And he hated that.
This power you had over him â the way you made him nervous, shy, and desperate for you.
Just like in middle school.
Something he had sworn to leave behind.
~~~~
âNO, NO, AND NO!â
The event hall falls into a deathly silence as you shout your words with such force and vehemence that your fists crush the few sheets of paper still clutched between your tense fingers.
No one dares to move anymore â a part of the staff is busy moving boxes of decorations, two others are handing you papers to sign, some are hovering around you with questions, and others are amusing themselves by climbing ladders to place Christmas decorations â as if your scream alone has just pierced through the entire university.
With your jaw clenched, a vein pulsing at your temple, your cheeks flushed with anger, and your throat slightly irritated, you struggle to breathe as all attention shifts onto you.
âI said I havenât decided on the organization of the Spring Formal yet, that nothing is supposed to be taken out, signed, or even requested until Iâve given the order, so what the fuck are you all doing here?!â you exclaim.
You push past the students in your way and snap your fingers at the two idiots fooling around with the decorations.
âYou two â youâre fired.â
Then, you turn to the rest of the group handling the boxes. âIf you donât want to be fired too, hurry up and put that away!â Next, to the members waiting for you to sign papers. âOut!â
As the room empties in silence, filled with sulky and terrified faces at the thought of dealing with you, you take a deep breath before crouching down to the floor, burying your face between your knees, your arms trembling.
There isnât much time left.
Director Yaga has given you a deadline to organize the Spring Formal, leaving you in charge of the theme, the venue, and the entertainment.
But, for the first time in your role, you are literally overwhelmed.
For the first time as well, no inspiration comes to you. The stress of classes, exams happening at the same time as the event date, your poor grades lately, and the pressure your team keeps adding on top of all thatâat some point, you were bound to explode.
With all of this piling up, how are you supposed to manage?
Thatâs exactly what you asked yourself during your class that very afternoon, staring at your 40/100 in quantum physics.
With your heart sinking into your stomach, you hastily shove the paper into your bag, not caring in the slightest if it gets crumpled.
No one must see that the student council president allows herself to yell at her team while having such catastrophic grades. But your overloaded schedule no longer allows you to focus on your studies alone â how can you concentrate and stay organized when all you want to do is throw yourself out the window?
~~~~
âYou need to register to require a tutor.â
âBut I donât need one.â
The male student raises an eyebrow. âSo what are you doing here?â
You scoff. How dare he talk to you like that?
Youâre in the library, one of the most soothing and stressful places in the world. Youâve had to find a way to get your grades up while you sort out your problem with Spring Formal, but in the meantime, you need to find a student who can tutor you without anyone knowing.
So what better way to find out than from the librarianâs assistant â who is also one of the Tutoring Centerâs organizers?
âI need to know whoâs the top student in quantum physics here,â you insist with a firmer tone.
Forgetting youâre at the entrance to the library, you purse your lips, a little embarrassed.
âWe donât have âtop studentsâ, prez,â he replies with a bitter smile â ah, so he knows who you are.
âSo how do you help the students?â you ask with almost indignation.
He shrugs. âIf you need helpââ
âI do not,â you cut him off coldly, cheeks on fire as you adjust your bag over your shoulder. You sigh in annoyance at the studentâs lack of efficiency.
âThen, how can I help you?â He gives you the most impertinent smile in the world, as if heâs just waiting for you to get the hell out.
You tuck a stray lock of your hair back behind your ear before rolling your eyes. âI need to talk to a top student in quantum physics, thatâs all.â
The student looks at his fingernails as if they're the most important thing in the world and mimes huffing. âWe donât have any.â He looks up at you. âIf youâre looking for one, thereâs a nerd whoâs the best in his class.â
Curiosity pricks the back of your neck, causing you to sit up straight. âWho?â
âGojo, I think,â he said, frowning as if to remember his name. âSato-thing, if I remember. Anyway, a nerd. You should know him, I guess.â
You shake your head, eyes almost squinting as you seek the memory of a Gojo name. But nothing comes to mind. So you shrug.
âWhat does he look like?â
âAlbino. Blue eyes, nerd glasses, always dressed in a sweatshirt or shirt and he always has a book under his arm.â
âAll right, thanks.â
Then you hurry out of the library and its oppressive walls, leaving the assistant to sigh with relief â as much as you do.
~~~~
âSo, you are⊠Gojo Sato-thing?â
He has a little disappointed smile. âSatoru Gojo, prez.â With a nervous gesture, he places the strap of his shoulder bag back on his shoulder and adjusts his glasses, which slide down his nose.
You stare at him motionless for a few seconds, speechless at the all-too-perfect likeness of the Tutoring Center managerâs description. Heâs got a book under his arm, a Digimon t-shirt over a dark blue plaid shirt and an innocent look on his face â he really wasnât wrong.
You blink. âUm⊠yeah. Whatever.â
You check that no one in the corridor of the quantum physics wing has left any students lying around who might surprise you with him, then let out an exhausted exhale.
Faced with his 6'3, you owe it to yourself to raise your eyes and chin a little higher.
âI need your help. You're the best physics student in the class, right?â
He turns the toe of his shoe as a tic on the floor and nods imperceptibly.
âPerfect. Iâve got a little problem right now andââ
âDo you need me to do an assignment for you?â he says almost as if trying to divine your thoughts â is that hope you see in his eyes?
âNo.â You knit your brows. âIâm having a problem with my grades and Iâm swamped with my event responsibilities and I'm starting to get grades...â You chew the inside of your cheek to hide your pride before muttering, â...pretty bad. And I donât feel like being given help publicly.â
In his confused expression, you add, âOtherwise it would be a real shame...â
From his height, Satoruâs shyness almost flies away in a gust. Heâs got you there at last. In front of him. Talking about something. Like a dream come true â a reality where he no longer knows what his name is but whatever.
He even perceives a blushing creeping up your cheeks as you drift your gaze a little lower to your own shoes and your lips crumple into an adorably embarrassed and frustrated little pout.
Then of course heâll help you.
He would give you more if he could, and he promises to himself heâll do it.
âSo you need me as your secret tutor?â he clarifies so softly.
You look up at him, clearing your throat. âBasically⊠yeah.â
âFine. I can do that.â A small smile spreads across his pink lips and he digs his hands into his jeans, which are a little baggy for him.
You flicker your eyes, confusion animating your features. âIs that all?â
âDo you need anything else?â And youâd have sworn you saw hope still shining in his ocean-blue irises.
âWhat? No,â you retort incredulously. âBut donât you need something in return? Like, money or something?â
â...No,â he exhales, reducing his smile â though it still lingers. âI donât mind helping you. Just give me your free hours so we can set a date. If thatâs okay with you, of course,â he hastens to add, as if afraid of upsetting you.
Your lips part slightly. âO-Okay,â you finally say. âIâd like to do this as soon as possible.â
âHow about today?â Satoru suggests, with a little more enthusiasm than he had anticipated himself. âOr even now, if you want.â
âNow?â
âYeah,â he says with a happy nod.
âDonât you think itâs a bit too earlââ
Barely ten minutes later, you find yourself sitting next to him once again in the library, which, for once, is not too crowded, pretending to have a casual conversation while, in reality, he is analyzing your failed test papers with an expert eye.
One elbow resting on the polished wooden table, one hand holding one of your sheets between his fingers, and the other with his index and thumb supporting his chin, Satoru lets his gaze travel line by line over your flawless handwritingâso much so that he forgets heâs supposed to be concentrating on helping you.
And not on the pretty way you write the letter âS,â wondering how close heâd be to a cardiac arrest if he ever saw his name written by your hand.
When he finally manages to analyze the mistakes on your paper, Satoru straightens slightly in his seat, adjusting the collar of his unbuttoned shirt that suddenly seems to be strangling him with an invisible noose, despite his neck remaining completely free. His heart pounds at the speed of light â almost literally.
Calculations and formulas have always been childâs play for Satoru; his brain has always been wired for logic, rationality, and the addictive thrill of adrenaline coursing through his veins when he makes a new discovery, a new analysis that falls perfectly into place â like completing a puzzle and watching it come to life, or like a house of cards standing strong until the slightest imbalance brings it all crashing down.
You are the imbalance in Satoruâs logical and rational reasoning.
For Satoru, love is not a science. Itâs just hormones that one must learn to control and not be fooled by.
And yet, even though he has devoted his body and soul to science, his heart will never cease to be yours â under your implacable and irrevocable hold.
Even with all the scientific weapons in the world, he will always be powerless before you.
With a flutter of snowy lashes, he returns to reality, setting his gaze on yours; persistent, waiting for him to say something, to give some kind of critique.
His mouth goes dry, heat rushes to his cheeks as he clears his throat, embarrassed.
âWell, uh... I guess we can start revisiting the notion of The Uncertainty Principle, if thatâs okay with you.â He gives you a quick glance so unconfident that you restrain yourself from doing what you're thinking of: ripping off his adorable cheeks â adorable? Since when do you find nerds adorable?
âOkay,â you say, pulling a draft sheet closer.
As you move your chair closer to his to concentrate better thanks to the proximity, the effect is quite the opposite on poor Satoru. He nearly loses all composure when his trembling fingers close around his pencil.
âW-Well⊠Um, do you want me to give you a quick lesson on this again? You didnât seem to grasp much of the concept.â
âIf you can use simple wordsâŠâ you mumble without much hope.
He swallows hard before explaining, âA rule in quantum physics says: you canât know both the exact position and momentum of a particle at the same time. The more you know about one, the less you know about the other. Got it?â
You squint, uncertain, as you rest your chin in the hollow of your palm. âMh-hmmâŠâ
âSo,â he draws two Delta symbols, each followed by an x and a p, then an equal sign, âthis one represents the uncertainty in position while the other represents the uncertainty in momentum.â He leans slightly forward to clearly define the terms for you before breaking down the formula, trying not to sweat under the ghost of your breath caressing his hand because of how close you are.
âOkay. I donât think I quite got all that.â
âItâs okay,â Satoru replies with a slight smile as he adjusts his glasses on his nose before returning to the sheet. âYou confused uncertainty with actual errors in measurement, and you tried to calculate exact values for both position & momentum, which isnât possible.â He draws an example of throwing a ball vs. tracking an electron. âYou canât pin down a quantum particle perfectly â itâs like me trying to figure out what youâre thinking all the time. Impossible, right?â
â...Right.â
âYou donât understand anything, right?â he sighs, a slight frown curling his lips.
âHonestly? Not a word,â you chuckle, a soft, honest melody that caresses his ears.
âLetâs make it more real for you, prez, then,â he snorts too, wiping away a big smile that deepens his dimples. âImagine youâre running around campus planning this big Spring Formal thing. If I try to track exactly where you are at one moment, I have no clue where youâll be the next second. But if I focus on how fast youâre moving between meetings, I can guess youâll end up in the library⊠but I wonât know the exact second you get there. Thatâs basically the Uncertainty Principle â canât have both at the same time.â
âOhhhh, okay!â you say, a light illuminating your face. But a second later, your features drop. âBut, wait⊠that doesnât make sense. If we have better tools, we can just measure both, right?â
He chuckles softly. âNope. Even if we had the best measuring tools in the universe, the universe itself wonât let us know both at the same time. Itâs not a technology problem â itâs just how nature works.â
You groan, frustrated, and slump over your notes. âPhysics is pain.â
He shakes his head, a lighter smile blooming on his lips. âYouâll get it, I promise. You just need time⊠and a good tutor.â
âYou?â You snicker, but not meanly â just teasing him in this mood that feels so comfortable with him, something you never thought youâd experience. âYouâre losing me more than I was before.â
You both sigh after a while, and he gives you a practice exercise, which you rush to complete so he can correct it.
For the first time in maybe weeks, or even months, you havenât felt this light. Quantum physics has always been a difficult challenge to overcome, despite your habit of planning everything to avoid stress. But sometimes, doing everything alone has led you to not ask for help when you needed it the most.
So when someone reached out and showed you how relieving some of that weight could feel, the sensation sparked a desire in you â one that didnât want this to end.
But youâre afraid it will make you dependent.
So itâs best not to get too attached, right?
~~~~
The following week, even though your understanding of quantum physics has somewhat improved, your stress refuses to do anything but skyrocket toward a full-blown anxiety attack.
Principal Yaga summoned you to his office because some students â the two you expelled last week â went to complain about your nervous and excessive behavior, claiming it warranted psychological support.
Outraged, you defended yourself by pointing out the inefficiency of your team, who fail to meet your needs without considering the mental load that comes with your responsibility as the student council president. And yet, that wasnât enough to calm Yaga, who dismissed you with a stern reminder that if you donât finalize the Spring Formal preparations soon, he wonât hesitate to replace you with a more competent organizer.
The mere thought â no, the haunting fearâof being replaced like a cheap supermarket doll plagues your nights with nightmares.
So, the obvious anxiety growing inside you bleeds into the most crucial moments â the moments when youâre supposed to stay focused instead of silently wallowing in your situation.
âNeed help, prez?â
Ripped from your daze, you lift your gaze to the voice beside you, only now realizing that heâs been sitting next to you since the start of the lecture â completely unnoticed, completely ignored.
Itâs Satoru, his laptop open in front of him, a small, friendly smile turned toward youâand only you. That tiny detail sends a strange, foreign wave through your stomach â not unpleasant, though.
âOh, youâre here,â you mumble, turning your attention back to the professor.
âSince the very start, yes,â he replies, his voice softer now, tinged with a faint hint of disappointment as he twirls his pencil between his long, nimble fingers.
A silence settles between you, neither of you seeming inclined to break it.
In the lecture hall, only the sound of keyboards clicking and the amplified voice of the professor fill the large room. You try your best to follow along, scribbling notes as diligently as you can, but at this point, it feels like trying to form words by randomly pressing keys â you understand nothing.
âNeed help?â
You slowly lift your head toward the familiar voice.
âYou can explain it to me later, you know?â you mutter, careful not to let anyone else overhear your conversation â it could cost you.
âAnd we could save time by explaining it now.â His tone is soft, rational, kind, altruistic â every synonym that embodies maturity and gentle responsibility.
Heâs made of sugar. Just for you.
You sigh, finally giving in with a nod, as Satoru flips his laptop into tablet mode to explain the purpose of the chapter â the name of which youâve only just learned, despite an hour and a half of lecture on Wave-Particle Duality.
âSo,â he says, writing the formula on his tablet with a stylus. âThe general concept is quite easy. Quantum objects â like electrons â can act as both particles and waves, okay?â
You nod, leaning in closer to his shoulder to observe the definitions of the formulaâs terms â a faint scent brushes against your senses. Clean laundry and a subtle drop of cologne. The scent imprints itself in your lungs pleasantly enough that you have to mentally slap yourself to keep from getting distracted from Satoruâs explanations.
He glances at you with those sharp blue eyes and raises an eyebrow. âYou know what wavelength means?â
âItâs just for light, right?â
He snorts quietly. âParticles.â
âOh.â
He holds back another laugh and continues his explanations.
Several minutes later, you find your eyes glued â no, entranced â by Satoru, this nerd with glasses that hide a brain far too brilliant for you. Maybe even for the entire university.
You notice it in everything he does â setting aside his physical appearance, which youâre starting to find cuter and cuter without even realizing it â every cell of his body breathes science, logic, the thirst for discovery. His brain analyzes every possibility, his fingers manipulate rationality, and his glasses help him weigh the pros and cons. His long, straight nose gives him an infallible instinct, a sixth sense that never fails, and his smile â his pretty, thin, pink lipsâilluminate hypotheses with a dangerously innocent charm.
But he himself doesnât even realize it.
âSee? Itâs like⊠imagine if you could be both a super serious president and a total mess at physics at the same time. Oh wait â thatâs already happening,â he teases, a playful, cute smile blooming on his lips as he glances at you with sparkles in his eyes.
Oh, that damn smile.
And without meaning to, you join in his laughter, covering your mouth with your palm so as not to be heard as, for the first time in weeks, a weight is lifted from your shoulders. The little analogy that might have irritated you a few days ago seems silly to you. Why do it when heâs here?
The bell rings, announcing the end of class, and the hubbub of the students urges you to put your things away as much as possible before the teacher gives you more homework than you already have just to understand the lecture.
With your bag slung over your shoulder, you make your way towards the exit, at the end of the herd of students who have made you lose sight of Satoru. A little disappointment contracts your heart, but after all, why should he be waiting for you? There was no need. Youâre not friends. Just two students who are nice to each other (well, mostly Satoru).
So as you walk out of the lecture hall, you almost come face to face with a 6â3. Your nose collides painfully with a hard, bumpy surface â wait, of abs?
Impossible.
A hand much larger than yours wraps around your elbow to steady you and meets your eyes down on your wincing face.
âOops, sorry,â Satoru apologizes as his smile evaporates. âAre you okay? I just wanted to wait for you.â
Was it abs?
âNo worries, I'm fine,â you assure with a smile as self-conscious as it is forced, one hand rubbing your sore nose. âThat's sweet.â Then you look away to calm the blush that spreads like a puddle from your neck to your scalp and pray it's unseen.
âYou sure?â he insists with a concerned frown.
â...Sure.â
Once your face has cooled, your eyes stare at the spot on his torso where your nose collided. That flat spot under the shirt that appears a little less to you now, seen up close. It's as if with every swell of his breath, you can see the beginnings of an abdominal bulge, but you shake your head to get this far-fetched idea out of your head.
Letting your hand fall back, you offer him a more confident smile and lead the way. âShall we?â
With a slower nod, he follows you.
To bridge the silence between the two of you in the deserted corridors, you nudge him in the ribs and say, âYou know, I still donât get how you find physics fun.â
He feigns pain and smirks â does he only smile when heâs with you?
âI donât find it fun, strictly speaking, but really very interesting. At least, enough to make me face my major.â He pauses to give you a teasing look. âAnd I still donât get how you survive on four hours of sleep.â
âI am a vampire,â you grin stupidly, âI love working at night. I feel productive.â
âI see that. Your bags speak for you,â he chortles.
âFor real?â you mouth, running your fingers over your dark circles as if to check his words when it makes more sense to look in the mirror rather than feel you up.
âJust joking,â he murmurs, dropping his gaze on the floor a second before looking up back at you. âBut you seem very stressed lately, am I wrong?â
You donât answer right away, reluctant to tell him about your doubts and whatâs been bothering you for weeks. But you can. This is just two friends from the same quantum physics class strolling around campus at the end of a long day, isnât it?
But maybe not close enough for him to be really interested in you? Maybe heâs just asking questions out of politeness and not out of any real concern for you. After all, youâre not really close.
âIt's alright, just uni and student council stuff, as always,â you murmur with averted eyes. âWe also need to plan our next tutoring session.â
âYeah...â Satoru shoves his hands in his pockets and lets silence fill the gap between the two of you before resuming. âMaybe we could do it somewhere else this time, couldnât we?â he offers without much hope in his voice.
You knit your brows. âWhat?â
âI mean... do youâuh, never mind.â
You raise an eyebrow. âHuh?â
He seems to chicken out and look away but you catch it before he could hide it â the tips of his ears are red.
âNothing. Just... youâre really into this whole Spring Formal thing, huh?â he mumbles.
âOf course. I have a lot of work to do on it. But what were you asking me?â you insist with a softer tone and your hand wrapping around his arm â remarkably built, you note internally.
He finally twists his neck toward you to face you, lips pursed into a conflicted pout.
âYouâre going to refuse.â
âYou didnât even try to ask,â you almost in a mid gasp and chuckle.
He runs a hand through his tousled snowy hair, then slips it around the back of his neck, rubbing it like a nervous tic. âI see that youâre stressed â even if you deny it. So would you accept to... maybe do work on our tutoring lessons in a better place?â He panics slightly under your unfathomable gaze, just waiting for the next part of his words. âI mean... I know a place where it could be less stressful and more relaxing because you deserve it... But of course,â he adds hastily, âit doesnât commit you to anything and you donât have to accept and we can totally carry on doing it at the library because really itâs just a stupid idea and I should just keep my mouth shutââ
âSatoru.â
His heart stops beating and he thinks his brain has short-circuited as he realizes itâs the first time you've said his first name in that tone.
Softly, reassuringly, and with obvious joy.
âOf course Iâd like to work with you somewhere else. It means a lot to me that you thought of me like that,â you say softly as you stop in front of some stairs so you can look him straight in the eye. âI can give you my phone number and youâll just have to send me the address, howâs that?â
Okay. His brain really has just short-circuited.
He doesnât even remember how he managed to hand you his phone and record your number, wish you a good evening and return to his dormitory after being subjected to your beaming smile â of a particular radiance heâs never seen before on your face in all the time, however long, heâs spent gazing at you wherever you are â radiant even.
Lying on his bed, he stares at the ceiling. The silent night allows his thoughts to grow louder, as if several were trying to express themselves at once.
However, one image takes root in his eyelids when he closes them before sleeping.
You.
~~~~
âYou shouldnât have.â
âDo you really need to make this even more embarrassing?â
You shake your head. âItâs not fair.â
His features sag, and he lets out a tiny sigh. âJust please, accept it. I made it for you.â
At your feet lies a picnic blanket with red and white checkered patterns. On top of it are homemade sandwiches, cans of fruit juice, berries, cakes, and even a tub of ice cream resting inside a mini cooler. Satoru has even arranged the space to avoid a chaotic mess while working and has brought ultra-comfortable cushions to make the tutoring session as pleasant as possible.
He canât do this.
Not with you, who arrived at the quiet, sparsely crowded city park, right under the most magnificent Japanese cherry blossom tree.
The cool breeze blows gently around you both, sweeping away a few strands of your hair that youâre forced to tuck behind your ears.
âSit your ass down,â Satoru mumbles, looking away to hide an obvious embarrassment, though his hand pats the empty space he left just for you.
So, reluctantly, you sit cross-legged, grabbing a random sandwich â just so he wonât sulk â and try not to cry because itâs so ridiculously delicious. The berries couldnât be fresher or juicier than any youâve ever tasted, and not to mention the cakes he brought. The majority of the food is sweet â his sweet tooth showing up a little too obviously.
âHope it tastes good,â he adds, his lips forming a slight pout.
âNever ate something that good,â you respond, mouth full of food. âYouâre an angel.â
The word makes him freeze for a solid thirty seconds before he shakes his head and lets his gaze drift away â always avoiding â toward the nearby lake.
The ground is sprinkled with pale pink petals, blending into the vibrant green grass of this March afternoon. A few birds chirp in the distance, hardly anyone comes near your secluded spot, and the peaceful silence reigning over the park creates the perfect environment for getting work done.
Swallowing his own mochi, Satoru watches you take out your notes on the latest physics chapter, and instead of sitting across from you, he allows himself to settle beside you this time â without you pulling away.
He was hesitant from the start and may never be able to stop feeling nervous around you. No matter how often heâs around you or how much more familiar he grows with your presence, he canât control those sudden spikes of nervousness that hit when heâs already comfortable â only for one small action or movement to give his poor little heart a crisis.
You hand him the exercises you worked on last night, and while he reviews them, you take out your planner and notepad â the ones you carry everywhere (even to bed and the bathroom)âto go over the organization of the upcoming Spring Formal.
An event thatâs happening soon. An event with absolutely nothing planned yet.
You quietly jot down notes on possible themes, but after another glance at the endless, sprawling branches of the massive cherry tree, you sigh and toss your notepad aside onto the picnic blanket. No ideas in sight. You have no choice but to admit your incompetence. Your failure is inevitable.
âHere.â Satoru hands you back your corrected exercises, and you quickly scan through them.
Since the beginning of your sessions with him, you have to admit â youâve improved.
This time, there are fewer scribbles and corrections from Satoru. Your formulas and applications are more precise, clearer, and better developed. All thanks to your hard work and Satoruâs expert guidance â the science genius himself.
There are still some non-negligible mistakes to fix, but at least the encouraging smile from your tutor warms your chest, silently telling you that youâre on the right track.
âThis is really not bad,â he murmurs softly near your shoulder. âYouâre seriously improving.â
âThanks to my good tutor,â you reply, nudging him playfully with your elbow.
âWhat flattery. I donât deserve this much.â Yet his so-called humility is betrayed by the deep red blush dusting his ears.
âQuite the opposite. I wish I could pay you back somehow.â
âYou donât need to. I told you it was my pleasure to help you.â
âAnd I feel bad about it,â you confess in a whisper.
âDonât,â he insists â and dares to wrap his slightly trembling, warm hand over yours on the blanket.
Your heart flutters, like a butterfly trying to take flight, only to be tossed around by the wind.
âThank you,â you whisper, with more honesty than youâve ever given anyone.
âFor being a good friend? Donât worry, Iâm glad to have you as well, honestly,â he murmurs back, punctuating his words with a light squeeze of your hand.
âAnd Iââ he clears his throat, â...really appreciate you.â
Friends. Appreciate you.
âI appreciate you too. Really. Iâm sorry if I mess up every move you try with me to help me,â you add with an apologetic smile. âStress always ruins my life.â
âI told you that you couldn't deny it.â He raises his eyebrows and lift up an uncertain arm â seeing you not reacting has reassured him enough to pluck up the courage to pass it around you to console you. âTell me whatâs wrong.â
You let yourself go against him, burying half your face against him. âIâm in deep shit about organizing the Spring Formal. I havenât prepared anything, I have no idea, and yet Iâve got plenty to do. Mr. Yaga warned me that he might replace me if I went on like this, and I feel like everythingâs going to shit,â you say in a breath, a tiny barrier of vulnerability cracking.
His arm tightens in an attempt at comfort. He nods slowly, inhaling long breaths of fresh air before making a clicking sound with his tongue.
âWhereâs your notepad?â
You hand it to him without protest, and he immediately grabs it and flips through it. Then, when he finds a blank page, he grabs a pen lying near the two of you and jots down a few sentences, the words of which you can only read when he hands you the notebook.
âAn alignment of the planets?â You raise a curious, surprised eyebrow.
He nods with his chin and sketches a smile.
âIt only happens in spring, practically. And there will be one before long.â He squeezes his arm around you again and chuckles. âA theme about planets might be nice, donât you think?â
Lips parted, you gaze into the azure sky. Himself a little disarmed by your lack of reaction, he frowns without giving up his smile and softly pronounces your first name.
With zero control over your movements, thereâs nothing to stop your lips from pressing tenderly against Satoruâs smooth, soft cheek â a firm but gentle kiss leaving an invisible, indelible trace on his radiant skin as you pull away to look into his eyes again.
âYou're an angel,â you repeat a second time.
Well, the second time too, when Satoruâs heart, no longer knowing how to beat, simply stops beating.
~~~~
âMove them a little more to the rightâ Yes, thatâs perfect.â
Your trusty notepad clutched against your chest, you admire the preparations unfolding in the venue for the upcoming Spring Formal, where the theme of planetary alignment is set to make this yearâs university event truly unforgettable.
Finally, youâre no longer spending your time yelling at your team and barking orders fueled by the vibrant sparks of your stress. Instead, youâre giving clear instructions, each one accompanied by an encouraging smile for everyone.
âMaybe we could add midnight blue velvet curtains,â Satoru suggests, leaning over your shoulder, his chest brushing pleasantly against your back as he glances at the list of missing decoration orders. âWe could stick fake stars on them, and itâll draw more attention to the planets. What do you think?â
âI like the idea,â you giggle, despite the way your insides somersault when his warm breath grazes your ear, sending waves of goosebumps down your skin. You jot down a few notes as Satoru leans in even closer, gently resting his chin on your shoulder. âNot surprising, coming from the quantum physics genius of the entire university.â
Even though thereâs nothing official between you â not if you ignore the feelings and trust that make Satoru more confident and relaxed in your presence â nor any concrete relationship, the warm intimacy settling between you two is anything but uncomfortable.
Itâs like a mutual friendship, fully acknowledged by both of you, yet intertwined with threads of love left unspoken â often betrayed by moments of closeness like this one.
âYouâre gonna make me blush again,â he admits with a light laugh, soft and delicate as a cherry blossom petal.
âOh yeah?â You turn your head toward his â just enough for your faces to be so close that the tips of your noses brush. âWhy?â
He sighs, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment before opening them again. âYou know whyâŠâ
âIâm clueless when it comes to guessing thoughts, my hot nerd tutor,â you coo, a little grin spreading across your lips â those same lips he wanted to kiss until he couldnât breathe anymore for the rest of his life.
âMaybe I could show you, then.â And gently, he places his hands around your waist, an easy, soothing smile on his face. âIs that okay if I do that?â After your nod, his smile grows even wider. âAlso, could we do our next session at my place? I canât stay at the library today because my mom is waiting for a package while sheâs at work, so she asked me to take care of it.â
âOf course.â You take note of his suggestion while the rest of your team rushes to decorate the room and move boxes â some opened, some not. Then, you turn back to him, feeling the slight tremor of his hands against your body, the way the blood rushes alarmingly fast to his face, and how his eyes avoid yours.
âBlushing?â you giggle.
âYouâre not embarrassed? I meanâ Itâs my place, not my dorm or the library, you know,â he mumbles.
You graze a kiss on his soft cheek and grin. âYouâre freaking cute.â
âIâm not joking,â he whines lowly, a small, worried furrow forming between his brows.
âAs am I.â You give his arm a little squeeze. âEverythingâs gonna be alright. I donât mind having you all alone in your house, though.â
And you burst into laughter when he chokes on his own saliva at your words â having never seen someone turn so red before.
~~~~
âI knew you liked physics, but not that much.â
Before coming to set foot in Satoruâs room for the first time, you expected to be dealing with a simple, uncluttered, organized room, and above all far more filled with bookcases overflowing with books rather than...
...the opposite.
Stepping into Satoruâs room feels like entering a nerdy galaxy of controlled chaos. His desk is cluttered with thick physics textbooks, some stacked neatly, others left open mid-read, pages filled with complex equations you canât even begin to understand. Among them, a few manga volumes peek out, half-hidden like a guilty pleasure. Above, a whiteboard covered in messy formulas and doodles dominates the wall, the marker strokes chaotic but somehow full of purpose. His ceiling is scattered with glow-in-the-dark stars, forming actual constellations if you look closely, and a floating moon lamp sat on his nightstand, casting a soft glow over his unmade bed.
Everywhere you turn, there is something to mess with â a plasma ball that lit up at your touch, a Newtonâs Cradle clicking rhythmically on his desk, even a weird futuristic clock displaying time in some incomprehensible format. His monitors hum with life, one running a sci-fi screensaver while another had what looks like a physics simulation heâd probably forgotten about.Â
And yet, despite the overwhelming nerd energy, it was⊠comfortable. Lived-in. A place where ideas sparked and theories came to life â exactly what you could imagine his space would be if youâd thought things through a bit more.
âWow,â you murmur, entranced. âItâs⊠just beautiful. Like a museum.â
âHeh? Youâre flattering me really too much,â he chuckles nervously, scratching his neck where his undercut is. âBut Iâm glad if you like it. I want you to feel home,â he adds softly.
âHome?â You turn to him with a slightly embarrassed and moved smile. âYouâre my home, actually.â
Nothing you say makes sense. Your racing heart lets your mouth babble nonsense and scare Satoru away. Youâre far too embarrassingâ
âI feel the same for you.â
Like a needle piercing a balloon, your vital organ explodes in your chest.
The next second, your brain regains control and orders your legs to move towards him, until your torsos brush against each other and your breaths mingle, giving birth to a gentle flame that burns only to be consumed.
Satoru whispers your name. âCan I try something?â he mouths.
You nod imperceptibly, your gaze lost in his ocean eyes.
Tenderly and with the most delicate gentleness, he cups your cheeks, tilting your head so that your face faces directly forehead to his. So close, you have a detailed view of the number of his light eyelashes, the different shades of blue mingling in his irises, the pleasant warmth of his tepid breath against you.
Then, his lips brush yours first, as if testing your reaction. But when your fingers latch onto his light-brown V-neck sweater, he feels the pressure rise in his blood and slowly, but suddenly, crushes his lips against yours.
Itâs not rushed â just a soft press of lips, tentative, almost careful. As if he's afraid of breaking something fragile. So to encourage him, you sigh softly in contentment, then tilt your head the slightest bit to fit better, closer... Your hands remain gently clasped to his sweater.
He seems to get your message, because the next thing you know, heâs relaxing, moving more slowly and comfortably against yours. The world outside that moment doesnât exist. Just him, just this â his lips, softer than you expected, the careful way he kisses you, as if he is memorizing every second of it. Time stretches thin, and even when you finally pull apart, neither of you move far.
Slowly, you open your eyes, only to find him already looking at you. His gaze is different now â quieter, warmer, like he is seeing you in a way he never had before.
For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence is soft, not awkward, filled with a kind of understanding that doesnât need words. And then, just barely above a whisper, Satoru exhales a quiet, shaky laugh.
âOh.â
Just that â like he hasnât expected this, like heâs still processing the fact that it happened at all. And maybe itâs the way he looks at you, stunned and a little breathless, or maybe itâs just the warmth still lingering between you, but you find yourself smiling, a tiny, barely-there curve of your lips.
âYeah,â you murmur back, voice quieter and warmer than you intended.
Neither of you moved away. Not yet.
You lower your head, a hot flush creeping up your cheeks and neck, and that's when you also understand where his âohâ is coming from.
Oh.
While he turns away to hide his face in his hands and prays to be buried in a grave on the spot, you burst out laughing â a frank, non-judgmental laugh. Simply savoring this pleasant moment with him (albeit with one small problem).
âJust with a kiss? Satoru, I swear youâre the cutest!â you continue to laugh, half-folding with your arms hugging your belly.
âItâs not f-funny!â And the poor guy doesnât even dare turn around as he adjusts his pants, which is where his âproblemâ lies.
Smiling, you move closer to him, your lips still prickling from the perfect kiss. One of your hands slips to his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. âItâs okay.â
âItâs not,â he mumbles, hiding his face again from your sight.
âIt is,â you insist, wrapping your hand around his wrist to look at him. âIâm not judging you, I swear. Itâs not like you can control that, is it?â
âI know, butâ Itâs so embarrassing. I feel like a poor virgin nerd that â well, Itâs not like I am not butââ
You freeze, slowly losing your smile. âWait⊠youâre a virgin?â
He nods, a little shameful pout creasing his lips.
âIââ you trail off. Taking a short breath, you lower yourself a little more to look at him as he covers his crotch with one hand. âI can help you with that, you know.â
His eyes widen, heart hammering in his rib cage. âW-What?â
An umpteenth laugh shakes your chest. âI mean, yeah. I donât mind and I like you.â Then an idea pops into your head, like a lamp regaining its light. âLike, it would make up for the effort you put into helping me get good grades. What do you think?â
He straightens abruptly and gently but firmly pushes your hand away by the wrist. A serious look despite his embrace adds.
âNo way. I already told you I donât want anything in return.â
âBut itâs just to please you,â you insist, flickering your eyes. âDonât you want to know how it feels?â You take a few steps forward until you can wrap your arms around his perfect torso â the ideal balance of slim and muscular.
Your chin rests on his breastbone, a little imploring pout on your lips.
âCâmon, just an oral, I promise. I want to return the favor.â
He swallows hard, lips parted as if the words are stuck somewhere between embarrassment and want. His gaze flickers between your face and the floor, a mix of reluctance and curiosity in his eyes.
âBut Iââ His voice cracks slightly, a nervous laugh escaping him. âI donât know what Iâm doingâŠâ
You smile, a quiet, knowing smile, and slide your fingers slowly down his arm, your touch lingering on his skin. âItâs okay,â you say, your breath barely above a whisper. âIâll guide you.â
You can see him shiver at the words, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You take your time, moving in closer, making sure to leave no space between you. Your lips brush against his jaw, a delicate kiss that makes his entire body stiffen for a split second. He doesnât pull away, though, and thatâs enough to encourage you to go further.
âJust relax,â you tease, pulling back slightly to look up at him. âI promise Iâm not going to bite.â
âI know, I just need to sit a bit,â he whispers, a wave of uncertainty in his eyes.
You pull away from him, feeling the palpable tension between the two of you. âOf course.â You take his hand in yours and guide him onto his bed. When he sits down on the mattress, you find yourself kneeling between his legs.
As your hands busily unzip his straight gray twill pants, you maintain eye contact. âTell me if itâs too much or if you wanna stop, okay love?â
Love.
He nods gently, his elbows pressed into the softness of the mattress to get a view of your movements without him lying down completely. Lips trembling, Satoru feels obliged to bite them to calm himself as the heat almost suffocates him while all he has left is his boxer shorts hiding his growing erection under the thin fabric.
You can feel the air thickening between you, charged with the kind of quiet intensity that makes your pulse race. Your fingertips wrap around the waistband of his boxers and tug them down gently, letting the fabric rub against his length while heâs hissing.
âSweetheartââ
âRelax, Iâm just getting started,â you chuckle fondly.
When the underwear is pulled down, his erection springs free, slamming on his half-covered abdomen. The poor little thing, left alone, twitches painfully â dragging sounds like cute and innocent whimpers from Satoru â like itâs begging for your touch for a decade.
You curl your lips together, genuinely stunned by his size. 7 inches isnât nothing.
âSo youâre packing this from the start?â
âIâ NoâŠâ He sighs, clenching his jaw as his eyes flutter closed. âPlease, itâs already embarrassing.â
âBut why? Youâre beautiful, Satoru. And Iâm not talking about your dick,â you snort. Your gentle, affectionate tone makes Satoru forget how to breathe and open his eyes again. âYouâre beautiful on the inside too.â
âYouâre only flatteringââ
âI am not,â you state firmly, getting up from your knees to straddle his hips and cup his cheeks until they puff like mochiâs and heâs pouting.
Fucking adorable.
âHave you ever been into a relationship?â you whisper after pecking a kiss on the corner of his lips.
He shakes his head, stuttering a no.
âSo can I call you mine? Because Iâd be yours if I could,â you mutter next to his jaw where you peck another kiss that makes him shiver and grip your hips with his hands.
He opens his mouth to say something and hesitates. âA-Are you sure?â he asks, eyes filled with doubt. âIâm a nerd andââ
âAnd my type is nerd guys,â you cut him off before pulling him into a passionate kiss. He gasps, tightening his grip on your as his lips gently taste your and steal his breath away. âI love you, Satoru.â
âLove you more. Since the first time I laid my eyes on you,â he murmurs back between kisses, eyelids shut.
You slightly pull away, a smile springing to your lips. âPinning on me for so long? Aw, sorry to have been blind for this long too, then.â
He resists the urge to take you in his arms and lets you back down onto your knees, this time with his oversensitive cock throbbing in your hands as you begin to stroke it up and down, base to tip with all the slowness you can manage so as not to make him cum too quickly.
Satoruâs hips jerk up instantly, his chest rising and lowering because of his stuttering breath.
âYour hands feel so good and soft,â he whispers, sliding his big hands up to your shoulders, which he gently massages to relax you too. What a gentleman. âSo much better than mineâŠâ
âYeah? You like it?â Eager to please him for his first time, you place a kiss on his angry red tip, licking a little strop with the tip of your own tongue.
âHgnâ easy,â he pants, hands shaking slightly as they interrupt their massages on your shoulders when yours lead them on your head, tangled with your locks. âWhat are youââ
âYou can use my hair, if you want.â And you punctuate your words by taking his length back between your hands and kiss the fat head. It twitches in response, stealing little giggles from your sweet lips. Beads of precum leak along his length, helping you to wet him enough to stroke him faster as you part your lips and slide them down the length of him.
Satoruâs breath hitches when you take him, sucking in slow, deep strokes as your hand grips the base of him. You pull back slightly, your lips sliding back up, and you hear him groan, a sound that makes you ache. You repeat the motion, taking him deeper, sucking harder as you run your tongue along the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your mouth before you pull back again.
âFeel good?â you ask sweetly.
âYouâre perfect,â he breathes out â even whimpering in neediness, âthank you so muchâŠâ His hands tighten in your hair, pulling you even closer, but itâs not enough.
You donât stop. Instead, you take him deeper, your lips tightening around him as you move faster, the sound of your mouth on his cock filling the room, drowning out everything else. Satoruâs breath grows shallow, irregular, his body starting to tense, his legs flexing as he tries to hold back.
But you can feel it. The way he is so close, the way his body is winding tighter with every flick of your tongue. His fingers pulled at your hair, unsure to guide you just how he wants because what you were doing is already something heâll owe you all his entire life â he is desperate, needing his release.
âF-Fuck,â he stutters, fingers digging in your scalp deliciously for you pleasure. âI love you, but please, gânnaââ
ââcum? Yeah, do it, love,â you purr affectionately as you teasingly suck his sensitive tip until heâs whining and fighting for his hips to not thrust up and hurt you.
He is there â at the edge â his cock twitching in your mouth, and you know he canât hold on much longer. With one last deep, slow pull, he cums, his hips jerking as he releases into your mouth with a long, desperate groan. You swallow every drop, sucking him clean, your hands gently massaging his thighs as he slowly comes down from the high.
Satoruâs breath is ragged, his body shuddering as he slowly opens his eyes. He looks at you like youâre some sort of angel from heaven, and you smile, wiping the corner of your mouth before standing up.
âFeel better?â you ask teasingly, your voice light despite the heat still pooling in your stomach.
He sighs deeply, rubbing his eyes before carefully sitting up and hugs you in a tight embrace. He blows kisses all over your face, murmuring thank yous and how much he loves you and you find yourself in awe.
âYouâre welcome, itâs the least that I can do for you, after all.â You press a big, firm, and sincere kiss on his cheek, and cannot stop smiling.
~~~~
The main room is bathed in a deep blue, soft, ambient light, the atmosphere almost otherworldly. Stars shimmer faintly on the walls, and delicate, hanging lanterns cast a stunning cold glow, like constellations scattered across the ceiling. The whole room seems alive, breathing with energy, as guests drift through the space, their laughter and chatter blending into a gentle hum.
At the center of the hall are huge telescopes, available for anyone curious enough to observe tonightâs planet alignment. The most important event of the Spring Formal.
Around the perimeter, tables are set with shimmering candles, their flames flickering softly, casting shadows on the faces of the students whoâve come to admire the setup. The smell of roses and lavender lingers in the air, mixing with the faint scent of freshly baked treats at the snack table. It feels like a dream â a celebration of the night sky brought to life.
Satoru stands beside you, his hand lightly brushing against yours as you both take in the beauty of the room. His smile is small but warm, his gaze drifting from the decorations to the crowd. Thereâs an unspoken pride in the way he looks at you, knowing you had a hand in making all of this happen, bringing the theme of the planets to life with such care.
âThis is... perfect,â he says, voice soft but full of admiration. His words are simple, but they carry weight. You feel a soft warmth settle in your chest at the sincerity in his tone.
A small smile blooms on your lips. âYeahâŠâ you agree, turning to face him fully, now a grin spreading across your face. âIt really turned out great. Thanks to you.â
His cheeks tint pink at the praise, and he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant, but the pride in his eyes is unmistakable.
âYou really made this all come together,â he says, voice full of admiration. âItâs amazing.â
For a moment, you simply smile at each other, a comfortable silence settling between you. The warmth of his gaze makes your heart flutter in your chest.
âWant to dance?â you ask, already knowing his answer, but wanting to ask all the same.
He hesitates for a moment, that same shy, unsure side of him creeping back, but the smile on his lips says everything.
âYeah,â he says, his hand finding yours once again, this time with more confidence. âIâd love to.â
As you both step onto the dance floor, the lights change again, and for a moment, the two of you are surrounded by the glow of the stars and lanterns, your bodies moving to the soft music that fills the room. Itâs not a fast, frantic dance â just slow and gentle, like youâre in your own little world. You feel the gentle sway of the music, and the weight of everything around you fades, leaving just the two of you in perfect harmony.
Maybe itâs the magic of the planets aligning, or maybe itâs just him â but either way, you think, you wouldnât mind orbiting around Gojo Satoru a little longer.
a/n: there we go! I AM DRAINED BC OF SCHOOL AND COURSES GUIDANCE BC LAW IS SO HARDDDD!! hum hum, beside that, i hope you guys had a nice week and that you are all taking care of your little faces (if not i'm gonna do it for you). writing this felt like... refreshing? i mean, nerdjo is the little mochi i'm eating when i go to the supermarket lol. and gosh, he's so cute that i'm going crazy haha.
reblogs, comments, and likes are very appreciated as always <3
Yandere knight!Suguru Geto x royal!reader, crumbles of lady in waiting utahime x reader
Tw: mentions of blood and murder, yandere themes, suguru's obsessed.
A/n: This took everything out of me to finish in one day, i lost the earlier draft and had to restart all over again. It turned out better than the original, tho. It's 7 pm over here, and my brain is begging me for a rest. Please let me know if you find any errors >0<
-> amazing devider by the amazing @uzmacchiato (they're so delicious)
Synopsis: Durring the wee hours of the morning, word reaches you about your favorite knight. You rush to meet him only to learn about yet another one of benevolent efforts.
Before you stands a vicious beast.
Suguru is dreanched in blood. He looks like a wild animal with all of the red painting his armor crimson, his heavy panting doesn't help his case, making him seem impossibly more feral. But, you know he's anything but. He further proves you right when he swiftly moves to close the distance between you by enveloping you in his arms and holding on as tightly as he can. You can feel his shaky breaths against the side of your neck, his tears catching on quicky after as well.
The blood is seeping into your clothes, lines of red intertwining with threads of silk, binding you to him. And you know suguru well enough to discern that this was indeed the intention.
"Sugu-" steel poleyns crashe against the marble floor, halting you in your tracks, you don't get to finish your sentence before your knight kneels on both of his knees, hands gripping your garments for dear life, face hidden in your lap. Suguru crumbles to the ground and so does the illusion of a monster.
A sigh of relief makes its way out of his throat, he shifts his body to wraps his arms around your waist. You stand there in the silence that follows, dreading the moment you have to ask.
"Its not my blood" the answer to your unspoken question reaches you in the form of a raspy breathless whisper. "Don't worry, your highness" suguru mutters before burring his face deeper, basking in your presence.
"I see..." the relief in your tone isn't lost on your knight, you can feel his content smile before he nuzzles deeper against your lap.
"In that case uhm....if you..if you don't mind, who exactly-"
"Don't mind that"
He almost snaps. The shift in his mood is loud and clear, it's like your question startled him, it has even him stumbling for an adequate follow up.
"Please. Your highness, don't stress yourself. Its my duty to protect you, no matter the cost"
The knight is not delusional enough to believe his own lies. Of course, he knows the noble man who was on his way to ask for your hand in marriage didn't pose any immediate danger. Of course, he understands that your marriage would be beneficial for the nation, of course he knows such extreme measures aren't necessary. You have your fair share of tricks. Your influence is nothing to scoff at, but not even you can sway the king when it comes to deplomatic matters such as these. Your father is a tough cookie, something suguru won't entertain. So it's his responsibility to shield you from what you can't handle.
"Alright then...i understand. Enough said" he doesn't have to say it outloud for you to understand. It's an open secret that suguru would go to unimaginable heights to insure your happiness, be it plucking fresh berries for you, or disposing of your suitors. It's what a faithful servant does, it's only natural. However, the topic of your marriage in particular, seems to stand out to him.
Suguru wants to believe that this is all for you. He wants to say that your smile is the only reward he would claim. But he knows his sword won't show any mercy even if you approve of the admirer.
The sight is straight out of a tragic opera. You look like lovers like this, a man on both his knees, his sweetheart in his arms, both covered in a blanket of red. The gruesome factor adds to the appeal. It's such a twisted yet intimate display but a shamless one given your status.
your attempt to pull away from the embrace is futile, Suguru only pulls you closer, and you'd be a foul to think you can match his strength.
"Suguru, we can't stay like this forever, come on you need to clean up before one of maids sees us like this"
Before one of the maids sees us, huh.
Your knight entertaines the idea for a moment, to be seen like this with you, this close and personal, your nonechallant reaction is just the cherry on top, already used to the knight's antics, he always acts like he has something to prove, as if he hadn't done enough of that already.
Suguru doesn't respond, he doesn't move from his position either, like a stubborn oversized guard dog, you have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to snap out of his love stick trance. The knight meets your eyes with his own pair, a devoted expression overtaking his visage. One that tells you he would throw himself back at the blood bath as many times as you ask.
"Let's get going. I need to change first. I don't want Utahime to worry"
Your lady in waiting is not going to like this one bit, for somone who fusses over the smallest paper cuts she detects on your fingers, she is not going to let this go no matter how much you explain.
Suguru's mood visibly sours, the smallest mention lf the servant woman bringing him back to reality. Suguru would love nothing more than to rid you of her, but you've made it abundantly clear that Utahime is off limits.
"Must you really mention her every time we are together, your highness? Am i not enough for you?"
You chuckle in response, and it's enough to bring his spirit back up. He takes both of your hands in his before giving them a squeeze, his lips follow soon after, pressing a long almost desperate kiss to the back of your hands, his thumbs linger on your knuckles long after he pulled his face away. Coating them with blood. Coating your soul with his love. His unconditional devotion.
An exasperated sigh from you is all it takes to bring him back on his feet, his smiles is fond, genuine, one of an innocent man, not suitable for a murderer.
"Shall we?"
He offers you his arm to hold, and you waste no time clinging to him. You don't get to do this anymore, you don't get to spend time with him like this, not when you're of marriageable age, not with all these little insects the king keeps sending your way, eager to have you married and out of his hair, something about inssuring the pure royal lineage before his majesty passes away, honestly suguru prays the old man gets on with it already, bite the bucket and leave you be. Suguru certainty won't shy away from spilling your father's blood if he kept causing you problems.
Suguru walks you to your powder room to clean up then to your chambers. Usually, you'd invite him inside for a late night cup of tea and a chat under the stars in your balcony. But the angry ravenette woman by the chambers door shooting daggers at your knight is enough to make you reconsider. It seems you'll have to cut your little midnight adventure short.
Utahime pulls you inside with a gentle hand on the small of your back. She closes the doors behind you both but not before throwing one last glare at the long-haired man. He stares back at her with just as much malice, something you don't see. Your lady in waiting rushes to over and begins to examine you, all while muttering incoherently under her breath.
"That senseless brute! I don't trust him one bit. Who does he think he is? Men can be such a pain! What did he want from you this late, your highness?"
Your sweet melodious laugh greets her ear and puts the woman at ease.
"All is well utahime, please don't worry"
Your hand finds her shoulder to rub soothingly, kind kind eyes meet her own, grounding her instantly, Utahime's tirade meets its end the second she gazes at you.
"He was just delivering something to me"
"A-at this hour?"
"Yup!" Your cheerful response leaves her speachless, utahime believes that no matter how much time you spend together, she will never be able to predict your antics.
And so he sighs.
"Your highness.....what am i going to do with you?" It's a light hearted question, never in a million years could she be upset with you.
"Yooouuuu could get us a glass of wine and join me in the balcony" you leave her no room to argue, making a B-line to the mentioned destination with a happy pep in your steps, mind clearly occupied. A moment later she joins you with a bottle of alcohol and a pair of stemware.
Under the moonlight Utahime clocks the blood under your finger nails.
âĄSynopsisâĄ- When Satoru returns home with your five-year-old daughter, she excitedly shares her dayâonly to drop an unexpected request. Seeing her friends with their little siblings, she decides she wants one too. Now, with wide, innocent eyes, she turns to you and Satoru, waiting for an answer neither of you were prepared for.
The moment Satoru steps inside, your five-year-old daughter clings to his leg, her face scrunched in deep contemplation. You barely get a chance to greet them before she stomps over, crossing her arms.
"Mommy," she starts, her tiny voice laced with determination. "I need a baby."
You blink. "A... baby?"
"Yes!" she whines, flopping onto the couch dramatically. "All my friends have little brothers or sisters! Hana, Yuto, even that meanie Reira! But me? I have nobody! Itâs not fair!"
Satoru, unhelpfully, clicks his tongue. "Tough luck, huh? Must be lonely."
You shoot him a look, but he only shrugs, smirking. Meanwhile, your daughter sits up, her big, watery eyes locking onto you like a weapon. "Please? Iâll take care of them, I promise! Iâll share my toys andâ and even let them play with my dolls!"
You sigh, kneeling beside her. "Sweetheart, having a baby isnât that simple. It's a lot of responsibility."
"But I want one!" She throws herself back again, legs kicking against the cushions. "Daddy, tell Mommy!"
Satoru hums, rubbing his chin. "Well, love, if our little princess wants a siblingâŠ" He turns to you, blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Should we start working on it?"
You gape at him. "Satoru!"
"What?" He gestures at your daughter. "She has a solid argument. We should at least consider it."
Your daughter nods eagerly. "See?! Daddy agrees!"
You pinch the bridge of your nose. This was going to be a long night.
You inhale deeply, gathering every ounce of patience in your being. "Sweetheart," you try again, voice soft, "having a baby isnât just about wanting one. Babies cry a lot, need a lot of care, andâ"
"I love babies!" she interrupts, sitting up on her knees. "I want to take care of one! I can do it, I promise!"
Satoru, the enabler, nods solemnly beside her. "Sheâs got a point. Sheâs very responsible."
You deadpan. "She once put her cereal bowl in the fridge because she thought it would turn into ice cream."
Your daughter gasps, flailing dramatically. "Mommy, pleaseee!" Her tiny hands clutch at your arm, eyes glassy and pleading. "Iâll be the best big sister in the whole world! I'll teach them how to color andâ andâ I wonât even get mad if they mess up my toys!"
You raise a brow. "Really? You cried for an hour when your teddy bear fell on the floor."
She pouts, crossing her arms. "That was different."
Satoru leans back, arm draped over the couch as he watches, far too entertained. "Sounds like sheâs pretty serious about this," he muses, grinning. Then, in a stage whisper, he adds, "And between us, I wouldnât mind trying for another oneâŠ"
Your entire face heats up. "Satoru!"
"What?" He feigns innocence, winking at your daughter. "Mommyâs just shy. But donât worry, princess, Iâll convince her."
Your daughter claps excitedly. "Yay! Daddy's the best!"
Oh, this was a conspiracy.
Satoru stretches, turning to you with a lazy grin. "So, sweetheart, what do you say? Want to give our little princess a teammate?"
You exhale slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose as your daughter bounces beside you, eyes wide with hope.
This was going to be an extremely long night.
You sigh, shaking your head as your daughter clings to your arm, eyes still wide with expectation. Satoru chuckles beside you, his amusement evident, but as you glance at him, his expression softens.
âSweetheart,â you start gently, brushing a stray hair from your daughterâs face, âhaving a baby isnât just about playing together. Itâs a big responsibility, and Mommy and Daddy have to be ready too.â
Her lower lip trembles. âBut I am readyâŠâ she mumbles.
Satoru reaches over, ruffling her hair with a small smile. âYouâd be the best big sister, no doubt about that,â he murmurs. âBut sometimes, these things take time.â
She huffs, puffing her cheeks. âI donât like waiting.â
Satoru gasps dramatically. âWhat?! My daughterâimpatient? Impossible!â He tickles her side, making her giggle despite herself. âWherever did you get that from?â
You shoot him a look. âDefinitely not from me.â
He winks, but then his fingers find yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze. When you turn to him, heâs not teasing anymoreâhis gaze is steady, warm, and understanding.
âHey,â he murmurs so only you can hear. âNo pressure, alright? This is your choice too. If youâre not ready, thatâs okay.â
Your heart melts at his sincerity.
You exhale, squeezing his hand back. âI know.â
Your daughter watches the silent exchange, then sighs dramatically before crawling into your lap, small arms wrapping around you. âOkay⊠but if I have to wait, can I at least have ice cream?â
Satoru gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. âA genius bargain! Negotiation skills on point!â
You roll your eyes, but you canât help but smile. âFine. But only one scoop.â
Your daughter squeals in victory, and Satoru beams. âGuess itâs a win for everyone, huh?â
As he presses a kiss to your temple, his touch lingering just a little longer, you realizeâno matter what the future holds, youâd never have to face it aloneâĄ
A/N -I hope you liked this cute lil drabble that had been on my mind for a whileđ€âĄ
summary â every ending has a before. before you became his partner, his everything, his one true love, and before the world demanded his sacrifice. before all that, there was just thisâsatoru gojo, alone in an empty apartment, bleeding from a wound that should never have touched him, thinking about the one person who could distract him enough to lower his defences. this is where it began. long before that last december morning broke both your hearts.
word count â 2.7 k
warnings â 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content (masturbation), angst, mentions of blood, violence and death, unhealthy relationship
author's note â so hear me out ! i wanted to write a horny scene and used this couple of "last december morning" again bc i love a good unhealthy couple but now it turned out horny AND sad. idk something about men jerking off to the thought of their girls not wanting them drives me insane haha. anyway, i hope you find the glimpse into the "before" of this story somewhat interesting (and spicy). weird combo but you shouldn't be suprised at this point with me.
masterlist + ao3 + support my writing
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The apartment felt emptier than usual tonight.
Satoru closed the door behind him, wincing as freshly healed skin pulled tight across his ribs. A simple mission, they'd said. Three mid-grade curses on the outskirts of Tokyo. Nothing that warranted his attention, really, except higher-ups insisting he "maintain field presence." One curse had slipped through his infinityâa momentary lapse in concentration. Nothing his reversed cursed technique couldn't handle, but enough to leave him tired, hungry, and irritable.
And alone.
He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter, making his way to the fridge. Empty, save for something that might have once been takeout and a bottle of water. He grabbed the water and drank deeply.
He was distracted.
Distracted.Â
How fucked up is that? No one made him lose focus.Â
No one until you.
He thought he'd be alone at the mission siteâpreferred it that way. Solo missions meant no one watching, no one to slow him down. Then you had appeared.Â
He'd turned instinctively towards your presence, strange how he wasnât able to not do itâfollowing the subtle scent of your skin, the sound of your breathing. Distracted for just a fraction of a second. That was all it took. His infinity flickeredâjust for a heartbeatâand the curse's attack slipped through. Pain had blossomed across his side, hot and sharp, like being branded with molten metal. For a moment, genuine surprise had registered on his face before he'd eliminated the curse with a single blast of cursed energy.
No one else would have noticed. No one except you.Â
Your eyes, for a strange, terrifying moment, had flickered with something he couldn't decipher. But then you looked away and he never felt so bereft. He wondered what had gone through your mind in that secondâwhat you had felt.
Satoru removed his blindfold and rubbed his eyes, blinking as his vision adjusted to the dimness of his loft apartment. He needed to sleep. To shower. To eat. To stop thinking about you.Â
He grabbed the water and collapsed onto his couch, stretched his legs across the coffee table and ordered takeaway on his phone. He leaned his head back, eyes tracing the city skyline stretched ahead in the ceiling-to-floor windows.Â
He shouldn't think about you so much. But god, he couldn't stop. Your face haunted himâthe way your eyes had narrowed when he'd stepped closer after today's mission, eyes pointedly not looking at the blood seeping through his shirt, the way you'd sidestep whenever he tried to walk beside you. Most people either feared him or fawned over him. You did neither, and it was driving him insane.Â
Three months of missions together and you still acted as if working with him was a punishment. You were efficient, powerful, and completely unimpressed by his status. You cleared battlefields with surgical precision, your technique complementing his in a way that should have made you the perfect partner.Â
If only you didn't hate his guts.
"Do you ever take anything seriously?" you'd asked him today, after he'd made a joke aboutâhe can't even remember anyway. It sure was lame.
"Only the important things," he'd replied, watching the setting sun catch in your hair and repressing the need to drown in the taste of your lips.
"Like what? Your hair products?"
He'd laughed, partly because it was funny and partly because your annoyance was somehow endearing, even as it clenched around his heart like a fist. You'd just rolled your eyes and walked away, leaving him to wonder how your lips would feel against his, if they'd be as soft as they looked, if you'd kiss him back with the same fierceness that fuelled your dislike for him.
He slumped forwards on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. What is it with you? Why couldnât he get his head around you? And why did you look... scared when he got injured today? Why did you always help him hide his weakness? Like that night when the brightness became too much and his eyes gave out, leaving him blind and disoriented in the middle of a battle. Why didn't you report it to the higher-ups like protocol demanded?
He remembers it clearly. That night at the dingy ramen shop. After a mission gone wrong and a fellow sorcerer's body lay cooling on concreteâSatoruâs fault, because his cursed technique faltered when it shouldn't have. Both of you exhausted, covered in grime and blood that wasn't your own, too tired to maintain the usual pretenses. Just two people sharing a meal at 2 AM because nowhere else was openâand neither wanted to be alone.
"Why'd you cover for me today?" he'd asked suddenly, chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth.
You'd looked up. "Cover what?"
âMy eyes gave out. You knew what happened."
Your eyes had dropped back to your bowl. "People are already terrified enough without knowing that the technique of the 'untouchable' Satoru Gojo has an expiration date."
"Didn't know you cared about my reputation."
"I don't." A pause as you pushed noodles around. "I care about what happens when people lose hope. When they realize their heroes are just... people."
"I'm your hero? I'm flattered."
"Don't be an ass, Gojo." But there was no real bite to it. "This job is shit enough without thanks, without recognition. People living their happy little lives, never knowing what's sacrificed to keep them safe. About the bodies we bury. The least we can do is not scare them more."
He'd stared at you then, wondering what you meant. But now, looking back, he understood. You weren't protecting himânot necessarily. You were protecting what he represented.Â
In a world where nightmares tore through reality, the strong couldn't afford to appear weakânot even for a moment. Their strength wasn't just about powerâit was the thin barrier between ordinary people and existential terror. If the untouchable could be touched, if the invincible could bleed, then what hope was there for everyone else?
You understood that balance, that necessary illusion. The way fear operated on both sides of the equationâthe fear they used to fight curses, and the fear they kept at bay for everyone else. A delicate balance of terror and comfort that kept the world turning.
"It is pretty shitty sometimes, isn't it?" heâd said. It was not a question.
Your eyes had met his, and for the first time, there was something like understanding between you. "Yeah. It is."Â
You'd gone back to eating and the moment passed. But something had shifted that night. Something that made him equally terrified as he was certain about it.Â
It was in that moment, under the flickering lights of a 24-hour ramen shop that cast shadows like bruises beneath your eyes, with your hair falling from its tie and dried blood still crusted under your fingernails, that Satoru realized he was falling for you.Â
Someone who had seen his weakness and kept it secret, not out of pity or protocol, but because you understood how fear structured their existence. Understood the burden of strength in ways others didn't, couldn't. But now he was alone.
He could call you. Should call you, really.Â
But what would he say? That he was sitting alone in his empty apartment, thinking about the way your brows furrow in concentration and how fucking cute that makes you look? How beautiful you are, even battered and covered in dust? That he thinks about that night at the ramen shop constantly? That he wants to tell you, yeah, this job is shitty, but you make the endless cycle of violence bearable?
That he missed you?
That he was afraidânot of dying, but of leaving you behind in a world full of nightmares?
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Probably Shoko checking if he'd healed properly. Or maybe Yaga with details about tomorrow's mission. For a second, he entertained the wild fantasy that it might be you, but quickly dismissed it. You'd rather tear your own skin off than reach out to him voluntarily.Â
It was just the delivery appâfood arriving in twenty minutes.Â
Plenty of time to shower and change before his dinner arrived. Plenty of time to think about tomorrow's mission briefing, where he'd see you again, where you'd probably ignore him or, if he was lucky, tell him off for something. He shouldn't be looking forward to it as much as he was.
What would you say if you knew the great Satoru Gojo was sitting alone in his empty apartment, obsessing over the exact shade of annoyance that colored your eyes when he said something particularly outrageous? That he deliberately said increasingly ridiculous things just to see your reaction? That sometimes he expanded his domain more than necessary, knowing you'd call him out on it, just to have another moment of your undivided attention?
Pathetic. And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about the split-second today when you'd almostâalmostâsmiled at one of his jokes before catching yourself.
Or the way you'd pushed your hair back from your face after the fight, chest heaving slightly, a single bead of sweat trailing down your neck before disappearing beneath your collar, making his mouth go dry with the sudden urge to follow that path with his tongue. Even the memory of it now made his body heat, imagining what it would be like to have you beneath him, that look of annoyance shifting into something else entirely as he pinned your wrists above your head andâ
Fuck.Â
He has to stop.Â
This was ridiculous. You couldn't even stand to be in the same room with him for more than five minutes, and here he was fantasizing about you fucking him.Â
Satoru walked to the bathroom. He splashed his face once, twice, three times, watching droplets cling to his white lashes in the mirror. "Get it together," he told his reflection. "She hates you. She'd sooner punch you than kiss you."
But that was part of the appeal, wasn't it? The way you challenged him, refused to be impressed. Everyone else was so damn predictable, but youâyou were something else entirely. And he found himself constantly wondering what ran through your mind when you looked at him. Did you ever think of him, too? Did he flicker across your mind, even for a moment, when he wasn't around?
It didn't matter. You would never look at him the way he wanted you to. Never want him the way he wants you.Â
With a frustrated groan, Satoru pushed away from the sink and made his way to his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through mission reports and messages.
His thumb hesitated, then opened his photo gallery. There you wereâa photo he'd taken secretly during a mission debriefing. Your head was slightly turned, profile caught in the afternoon light filtering through the windows. You were focused on something someone else was saying, completely unaware of his phone. The slight furrow of concentration between your brows, the set of your jaw, the way your fingers idly played with a penâyou were breathtaking, even in your complete disinterest in him.
âThis is pathetic,â he thought, even as his body reacted treacherously to the image. He felt his pants tighten and threw the phone down beside him with a curse, draping his arm over his eyes as if blocking out the world might erase the heat building in his gut.
It didnât. If anything, it made the image of you sharper in his mindâyour voice cutting through the briefing with that cold edge you seemed to reserve only for him, the way your eyes narrowed whenever he opened his mouth. He hated how much he loved it.
His free hand twitched at his side, fingers brushing the waistband of his sweatpants. He groaned, low and frustrated, shifting his arm just enough to glare at the ceiling. "Sheâd kill me if she knew," he muttered. But the reprimand did nothing to stop the slow slide of his hand downward, fingertips grazing the fabric where it tented before he squeezed himself through the sweatpants. He bit down on his bottom lip.
He snatched the phone back up, thumb hovering over the screen as if he could will himself to close the gallery and toss the damn thing across the room. Instead, he swiped back to the photo.Â
You.Â
Always you.Â
The way your hair fell just slightly out of place, the subtle defiance in your postureâit was maddening. He'd spent months trying to crack that wall you'd built between you, throwing quips and smirks your way, only to be met with your biting sarcasm or, worse, the way you simply looked away and acted like he wasn't even there. And yet here he was, alone in the dark, undone by a single stolen picture.Â
You hated him, sure, but he'd always been good at wanting what he couldn't have. And right now, in the quiet of the night, with nothing but your photo and this problem in his pants, he could pretend that hate wasn't the only thing you felt.
His hand slipped beneath the waistband, a sharp breath hissing through his teeth as his fingers curled around himself. His head tipped back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut before he gave in fully, shoving the fabric of his sweats down.
His tip was already slick with precum that glistened faintly in the low light. He cursed under his breath as he wrapped his long fingers around the base. Grip firm, almost punishing, as if he could squeeze out the maddening obsession with you that had rooted itself in his brain. His thumb swiped over the sensitive head, smearing the bead of moisture there, and he groaned low in his throat.
He pumped his hand faster, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the silence of the room. He thought about the way your voice would snap his name in anger, how your hands might feel shoving him backâor, fuck, pulling him closer. His strokes grew rougher, more desperate, fingers tightening as he dragged them up and down his length. His cock throbbed in his grip, veins pulsing under his fingers, and he couldnât stop the mental image of youâbeneath him, that fierce mouth of yours whispering his name, your body close as he moved against you. The thought alone nearly undid him.
His head tipped further back, throat bobbing with a choked moan as he chased the edge. His palm twisted over the tip again and his hips bucked up, fucking into his fist. "Fuckâ" The words broke off into a moan, his whole body tensing as the release hit him hard. Cum spilled over his hand, coating his fingers and dripping onto his stomach. He kept stroking through it, slower now, drawing out every last shudder until his muscles went slack and his breathing leveled out.
For a moment, he just lay there, chest heaving. He glanced at the phone againâyour face still there, indifferent and perfectâand let out a weak, breathless laugh. "Youâre such an idiot, Satoru," he muttered, wiping his hand on the edge of his sweatpants before dragging them back up. Even spent, the ache for you didnât fade. If anything, it settled deeperâstubborn as ever.
He raked his clean hand through his hair, tugging hard at the white strands as if the sting could snap him out of it. It didn't. The need lingered, gnawing at him. He wanted you, needed youâyour sharp tongue, your genius mind, your body under his hands, not just thisâstupidly jerking off to a stolen picture like some creep. Just another cruel reminder of what he didn't have, couldn't have.Â
He had to do something about it soon, had to make you see him, hate him, feel him, or he'd lose his damn mind entirely.
The doorbell rang, jerking him from his thoughts. Food deliveryâright. He'd almost forgotten.
As he pushed himself off the bed, adjusting his pants and composing himself, a slow smile spread across his face. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd try something different. No more playing it safe with stupid jokes and showing off. He'd find a way to make you notice himâreally notice him.
God, was that what it felt like to be cursed by love?
Never would he have thought that years later, on a frost-bitten December morning, he'd finally tell you he loved youâright before he walked away to die.
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author's note â now, i'm sure we all wonder why even my horny posts get sad but i can't answer you that, so we'll leave it at that. thank you for reading this glimpse into the beginning of what would become such a complicated love story. i'm also working on a potential part two of "last december morning" hehe.
maybe the cruelest curse be loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you, but sometimes the sweetest blessing is being seen for who you truly areâeven for a moment. with that i'm going crying in my corner. until next time ! <3
ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here.
And of course, Iâll definitely do your request! Itâs such a sweet idea, and I love that you sent it in for your own birthdayâthat makes it even more special. It might take a little time, but Iâll make sure itâs worth the wait. Hope youâre treating yourself today too!đ«¶
About: You moved in recently and exchanged numbers with the guy next door.
TW: drinking, break in (kind of) stripping (in a funny way, TRUST ME) and embrace the embarrassment 𫶠FLUUUUFF
A/N: rlly long slow update i have no motivation and had to catch up on school, anyway pt 3 will prob be made!! Hope u enjoy :3
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A/N: Ty sm for reading xoxo, and to the ppl who followed me im gnna give u a big big big smooch on the lips. Anyway!! Comment down if you would like to be tagged in pt3, and please interact if you liked it! eheheh (pt3 will have writing :3)
