୭⋆*｡ ₊̣̇.ෆ.₊̣̇. ୨୧ – when suguru said he’d love you even after death, he really did mean it. he just didn’t think it’d end up like this. ˃̵ᴗ˂̵˚♡˚‧⁺༄
includes : fem reader & angst 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
━✧˖° ʚ🌠ɞ ✧･ﾟ : *✧ ･ﾟ: *. ・ ･ﾟ: ೃ࿔ *:･ *·˚ ᝰ̟۟
suguru comes home a few days after the night parade of a hundred demons.
after you spent three nights crying, staying awake, waiting for him to come back.
you’re sitting on the front steps of the temple when he emerges from the brush, bloodied but it doesn’t look like he’s been hurt. someone else’s?
his hair is all down, hanging low in front of his face. he has a slight limp in his walk.
“there you are.”
he groans out.
you’re frozen. you can’t do anything but stare.
nanako and mimiko told you just a few hours ago that satoru gojo killed your lover.
so why is he walking right up to you now?
“suguru.” you slowly rise to your feet, meeting him halfway. the first thing you do is wrap your arms around him, then check for any injuries.
“what happened?” you ask, glancing to suguru who still had his head down. you sigh and cup his cheek with one of your hands.
he immediately leans into your touch and his shoulders slowly fall as he lets out a sigh of relief.
“what happened with gojo?”
“i’m here now.”
suguru never dismissed you like that before. there were no secrets in your relationship, especially during times like these.
“suguru-“
“god, you really are gorgeous, (name).” suguru finally looks up, meeting your eyes and if you looked hard enough you’d say he smiled right at you.
“he was right.”
you hold both his cheeks in your hands and lean closer, brushing his nose against yours. like habit, you begin to brush his hair out of his face to get a good look at the man you love.
your eyes glaze over as you lower your hand to his chest. not touching, fingers hovering just above his chest like you touch his soul underneath.
whatever you feel, it isn’t him.
“who are you?” your voice trembles. you start to pull away, and his hands splayed across your waist drag you closer. you hate how familiar it feels.
“look at me. you know who i am.” he says with a scoff that you would’ve laughed at any other day.
“you don’t even walk like him.” your voice breaks on the last word. you start searching his face for any ounce of humanity, any trace that says suguru is still in there. not this… thing.
kenjaku lets you examine him for anything that might explain why this is happening, that this is all a dream, that it’s just some shapeshifting curse user impersonating him.
suguru was right.
you are the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.
kenjaku’s felt it before. when he took over kaori and got to see for himself just how much she loved jin.
but this, this is something deeper than love.
obsession, maybe?
suguru loved you more than kenjaku could ever imagine humans were capable of.
but then again, suguru was never just a human. that’s what made him so perfect for him, like they were destined to be together just as you and him were.
on the fatal blow, suguru closed his eyes and he saw gojo. his parents. his friends. him and shoko sharing a cigarette. gojo again.
but then, there was you.
it always has been you.
there was still residue of your name on suguru’s lips, all the things he never got the courage to say to you sitting heavy on his chest when kenjaku got a hold of him.
he got curious.
intimate memories you shared together, memories you both thought nobody would ever touch came rushing back to him, and for once it didn’t feel out of place for him.
he didn’t feel like an intruder at all. which is why he was able to come to you so easily.
“you’re not him…” you say just above a whisper. through his bangs you catch a glimpse of sutures on his forehead.
you don’t think twice before you grab him and stare at the stitches going across the top of his head.
“what is this? what did you do to him?” you exclaim and kenjaku snatches you up roughly by the fabric of your sleeves.
“stop. he didn’t like fighting you.”
“you’re not him!”
“we are-,” kenjaku stops himself and clenches his jaw. he shuts his eyes for a minute, muscles tensing as he catches himself.
“i am the new him. he didn’t even know how to use his own technique properly, and this is the man you fell in love with?”
“how dare you? you don’t have the right!” you push him back, tears collecting on your waterline. “you dug up my dead. turned him into a second skin. how fucking dare you?”
kenjaku stands in front of you, stunned.
you’re completely crying now. you don’t care. if crying could bring back suguru, you’d cry until your ribs shattered and your throat went dry.
there she is, kenjaku thinks. in all your glory, there you are before him. all the good parts and the bad parts. magnetic, strikingly beautiful, hard-headed, easily blinded by your emotions.
these were all things suguru had once said.
and you hate how this puppet master repeats them back at you like he’s mocking you, reducing the years you spent together to nothing but just character development for his vessel.
something flickers behind kenjaku’s gaze. it’s borrowed. it doesn’t belong to him. nothing does anymore when he’s in front of you.
“he didn’t fight very hard when i took him.” he smiles sharply.
a crack echoes throughout the empty space. the slap you deliver rings through the air like thunder, like lightning over pure ocean.
but nothing about this body is pure. not anymore.
━✧˖° ʚ🌠ɞ ✧･ﾟ : *✧ ･ﾟ: *. ・ ･ﾟ: ೃ࿔ *:･ *·˚ ᝰ̟۟
a/n : wrote this while listening to ethel cain i am actually sick
Any song of Maria Elena Walsh (but especially the world upsidedown), those big parks with a lot of things to climb and slides, chicken nuggets I used to take it a lot to school.
@hi-im-pluton @monebula-muses @heeysaki @turtlevariabilis @brain-rot-tmnt @starchild917 @soaptastesfunny and open tags
I just woke up and I don't remember all my mutis ;(
Niño caníbal (cannibal child), i remember my older cousin singing this for me and my twin and making "scary" faces for us to laugh. Yeah, same as my twin parks and the club that my family and I used to go to the weekends. It's not a food but i remember when my dad bought me and my sisters some sweet treats after school.
i had a huge frozen obsession when i was little elsa was always my favorite, so “let it go” stayed on repeat. chuck e. cheese was the place for me because i spent so much time there with my friends and had a bunch of birthdays there too. and party cake little bites were basically a lunchbox essential since second grade (still one of my favorite snacks lol).
sorry for late response but thanks for the tag! childhood is such a funny concept lol.
3 things that remind you of your childhood- a song, a place, a food
for song, probably any song from 'Descendants' cause that was my childhood 😭 for place, my old childhood home with a hole in the wall (very nice memorie). and for food, this is kinda weird, but the flat kinda cheese. like, the sliced cheese (american cheese?). i have this distinct memory from when we first moved into our new house. and the first thing i did was go to the fridge and eat a piece of cheese on its own 💗
suguru geto takes care of his sweet girl when she's sick :(
the rain is absolute misery against the bedroom window, that matches exactly how your head feels. your throat is scratchy, your limbs feel like lead, and the fever has left you trapped in that horrible, shivering limbo where you’re simultaneously too hot and too cold. you’ve buried yourself under three different blankets, trying to shrink away from your misery.
you hear the front door click open and closed, followed by the soft, familiar thud of suguru’s boots being kicked off in the entryway. usually, he’d call out a quiet greeting, but the house stays entirely silent. he already knows you're sick; you had texted him a weak, barely coherent message hours ago before passing out.
the bedroom door creaks open, letting in a sliver of warm hallway light. suguru stands in the doorway, already wearing his comfortable sweatpants and a soft, worn-out black t-shirt. his long dark hair is pulled up into a loose, messy ponytail with a few stray strands framing his face. his expression instantly softens the second his eyes land on the pathetic bundle of blankets on the bed.
"oh, my poor girl," he murmurs, his voice dropping into that incredibly low, honey-sweet tone he only uses when it’s just the two of you.
he doesn't immediately climb into bed. instead, he pads softly over to the side of the mattress, kneeling down so he’s at eye level with you. he reaches out a hand, his long, elegant fingers brushing a few damp strands of hair away from your forehead. his palm is cool against your burning skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch, letting out a weak & pathetic sigh.
"you're burning up a bit, sweetheart," he says gently, his thumb tracing a comforting line over your cheekbone. "have you taken anything yet?"
you shake your head under the blanket, blinking heavily up at him.
"alright. stay right here. i'll be right back, okay?"
he disappears back down the hallway, and you can hear the distant, comforting sounds of him moving around the kitchen. the soft clink of a ceramic mug, the low rumble of the electric kettle, and the opening of the medicine cabinet. even though you feel terrible, the sheer routine of him taking care of you makes you feel a hundred times better.
when suguru returns, he’s carrying a small tray. on it is a glass of ice water, a steaming mug of honey-lemon tea, and two small pills. he sets it down on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the mattress, the bed dipping under his weight.
"come here, let me help you up," he whispers. his large hands slide under your armpits, effortlessly lifting you up against the headboard so you can sit upright. you complain weakly about the cold air hitting your shoulders, but he just chuckles softly, pulling one of the thickest blankets up around your chin like a cocoon.
he holds the glass of water to your lips, letting you take a few small sips before handing you the medicine. once you’ve swallowed it, he guides the warm mug of tea into your hands, keeping his own hands wrapped around yours to keep them steady as you drink. the warm liquid instantly soothes the scratchiness in your throat.
"good job," he murmurs, taking the empty mug and setting it aside. "c'mere, sweet girl."
finally, suguru lifts the heavy blankets and slides onto the bed right beside you. he pulls you straight against his side, tucking your head securely into the dip where his neck meets his shoulder. one of his long arms wraps around your waist, pulling you so close that you can hear the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart. his other hand goes straight to your head, his long fingers gently massaging your scalp in slow, repetitive motions that instantly start to dull the pounding headache behind your eyes.
"close your eyes," he whispers against your hair.
you twist your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, shivering slightly as another wave of fever-chills hits you. suguru notices immediately. he shifts, pulling the blankets all the way up over both of your shoulders and pressing his entire, warm body against your back to act as a human radiator.
"don't come any closer," you mumble, your voice thick and stuffed up as you try to pull the blanket higher over your face. "you're going to get sick if you kiss me."
suguru just lets out a soft, amused huff, completely ignoring your warning as he sits down on the edge of the bed. he reaches out, gently tugging the edge of the blanket down just enough to reveal your eyes and your flushed, pink nose.
"i don't care," he murmurs softly, a tender smile playing on his lips.
before you can protest again, he leans down and presses a warm, lingering kiss right to the center of your forehead, then another one to the tip of your nose. he lingers there for a second, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from your watery eyes.
"if i get sick, then we can just stay in bed and look after each other," he whispers, sliding under the covers to pull you close against his chest. "now stop worrying and close your eyes, baby."
with suguru holding you like you're the most precious, fragile thing in the world, the misery of being sick starts to fade into the background. surrounded by his scent, his warmth, and the steady rhythm of his breathing, your eyelids grow impossibly heavy, and you finally drift off into a deep, healing sleep.
rain softly tapped against the window while you were folded under a blanket on the couch, fast asleep.
satoru walks in, drenched from the rain. he shrugged off his soaked jacket and kicked off his shoes. he sighed, walking into the living room,
“baby, im home.” he calls out softly.
silence.
he frowned, that was unusual.
“baby?” he calls out again.
silence again.
it was only 5pm. there was no way you’re sleeping, satoru thought, until he saw you.
laying there like a cat, your lips slightly parted, both hands under your head.
“god baby..” he murmured, unable to hold back the smile forming on his face. he crouched down beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
youu looked so soft, so peaceful. he couldnt remember the last time he has seen you like this. no cute pouty lips or furrowed brows. just you... he couldn’t help himself.
his thumb traced your cheek just for a second before he leaned down, softly and carefully pressing a light kiss to your forehead.
