About me : multi fandom college student,writer and artist, mother of two fuzzy cats :),a huge sweet tooth, hopeless romantic but currently single ✧∘˚˳
Currently writing for : OPLA ,JJK , Tokyo Revengers, Haikyuu, Alice in borderland, (if you want something that's not included here, you can ask me and tell you if i know them or not!)
Requests : take suggestions and some requests, won't write for characters I'm crushing on ,i dont write NSFW or Yandere✧∘˚˳
And at the end,please dont repost my work on any other platform ;)
Pairing: chishiya x f! reader, brother!arisu x sister!reader
Summary: all you want to do is find your brother in this mad world. you stumble across a certain someone who you believe wants to help you
Warnings: fluff, angst, intercourse implied (no graphic details)
Word count: ~4.8k
Requested by @baylegend6
Betrayal tastes bitter. Forgiveness, even more so.
You wish you could offer it, let it soften the knot in your chest but you can’t. Not when you look at him, crouched across from you in the shadowed silence of the abandoned furniture store, blood drying on his temple, calculating eyes locked on the door. Not when you remember what he did. Chishiya claimed he stayed behind to protect you but you know better. Protection wasn’t part of his plan. You were a pawn once. And no matter how many times you see the ghost of guilt flicker in his eyes, you can’t erase the memory of how easily he used you. Forgiveness is a door you're not ready to open. Not yet.
The King of Spades had come like a storm, scattering everyone like leaves in the wind. You hadn’t been fast enough, not like the others. And now it was just the two of you. You and Chishiya, tucked away between dusty bed frames and display nightstands, hiding like scared animals. He hadn’t left. Said he wouldn’t. Said he wanted to protect you.
But all you could think was: why now?
You first met him during a game of Spades. The kind of game where hiding could mean surviving. He saw something in you that night. Not just fear, but precision, an uncanny ability to vanish when it mattered most. When the game ended, bloodied and victorious, Chishiya approached you with that cool, unreadable face.
“You’d be useful,” he said. “Come with me to the Beach.”
You told him you weren't looking for a team. You were looking for your brother. You had a gut feeling that Arisu was out here, trapped like you were. You had to find him.
“The Beach is a good place to start,” Chishiya said smoothly. “There are a lot of people there. If he’s in this world, someone must have seen him.”
What you didn’t know, what he didn’t tell you, was that he had no interest in helping you find Arisu. He only wanted your talent. Your ability to go unseen. It made you the perfect tool to steal the playing cards Hatter was hoarding.
Once you reached the Beach, Chishiya sought out Kuina. He told her about you, about your usefulness. But Kuina wasn’t like him. She didn’t see you as a tool. She saw you as a person. You clicked instantly. Her warmth was real, not calculated. She didn’t ask much about what you could do, but about who you were. She made you laugh even when the world around you begged for tears.
Unlike Chishiya, Kuina didn’t need a reason to care.
And then there was that rooftop. You had climbed up there, desperate for air, for solitude. But Chishiya was already sitting there.
“It’s one of my favourite spots,” he said simply.
You ended up talking, really talking, for the first time. You told him about Arisu, about your father, the constant comparison to your younger brother, the weight of never being enough. And for the first time, Chishiya dropped his guard, too. He told you about his own father. Cold. Distant. A man who wanted a trophy, not a son. It was strange… how easy it felt, opening up to him. Stranger still was how he opened up to you.
He seemed surprised that you cared. That you listened. But you did. Because behind all his manipulation and deadpan expression, you saw a flicker of someone human.
That moment changed something. Not for you but for him.
From that day, he was always there. Always lingering near. Always watching. Protecting. Talking. And you didn’t mind. Not then. Because you thought maybe he was trying to be something more.
What you didn’t know was that inside his mind, a war was raging. Every time you smiled at him, asked him about his day, looked at him like he was something more than a ghost in this dead world, he felt it. A tightening in his chest, foreign and unfamiliar. He’d never felt anything like it. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything.
And in the end, he made his decision.
He wouldn’t use you. Not anymore.
But then… Arisu arrived. And everything came crashing down.
You couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw him.
“Arisu!” you cried, rushing forward, wrapping your arms around him like you could shield him from this cruel world just by holding tight enough.
He froze for a second, then hugged you back, tighter than you expected.
“I don't want you to be here,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Not you.”
His face was drawn with exhaustion and worry, his arms trembling as he held you. That protective instinct of his took over in an instant. Even in this hell, he was still your older brother. Still the one who worried too much. Still the one who tried to carry the weight of the world.
When Chishiya saw the two of you together, his expression barely changed but something clicked in his brain. You didn’t notice. You were too relieved to be reunited with Arisu.
Kuina leaned against the railing outside the lounge, sipping a soda. Chishiya stood beside her, arms crossed, his usual cool mask in place.
“I’m going to use Arisu,” he said flatly. “For the plan.”
Kuina’s gaze didn’t shift. But the silence that followed said more than words.
“You could use her,” she said after a beat, tipping the can to her lips. “She’s better at sneaking than he is. Quieter. Smarter.”
Chishiya shrugged. “I don’t want to involve her.” That was when she turned. Brows raised, a slow, knowing grin stretching her lips. “Ah. I see.”
“What?” he asked, tone still bored, but his eyes didn’t meet hers. Kuina laughed. “C’mon. I’m not stupid. You get this little sparkle in your eyes every time someone says her name.” Chishiya frowned. “That’s ridiculous.”
She tilted her head, teasing. “You act like she’s a piece on the board. But you’re scared to move her. Know why?”
"No.”
“Because if she breaks, so do you.”
He didn’t reply. Didn’t need to. Kuina smiled into her drink. “You’ll see soon enough. Believe whatever you want for now.” Then she turned away, leaving him there, quiet, still, and deeply unsettled.
Later that night, Chishiya pulled Arisu aside. No pretense. No manipulation. Just quiet honesty. “I’m planning to steal Hatter’s cards. I don’t believe in his revolution. And I don’t believe anyone else will save us. We’ll have to save ourselves.”
And Arisu, who always tried to find the good in people, who just wanted you safe, said yes. Without hesitation. He saw it as a way out. A way to protect you.
He even convinced Usagi to help. She didn’t like it, not one bit, but she trusted Arisu enough to back him up. Even if she thought it was reckless.
And then it all went to hell. Arisu got caught. He was dragged away. Accused of treason. Beaten.
When Kuina came to find you, her face said everything before her words could. “They took him,” she said, voice shaking. “Arisu... he’s hurt. Bad.”
Your world flipped. Your knees nearly buckled. All that relief, that brief moment of peace, shattered in an instant.
And then came the fury.
You stormed through the Beach’s corridors like a thunderstorm. You didn’t care who saw you. Didn’t care who heard. You were going to find him.
And then you did.
Chishiya. Pacing an empty hallway. For once, not composed. For once, not unreadable. He looked up and the look in your eyes stopped him cold.
You walked up to him and slapped him. Hard. “You fucking asshole!”
He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
"You used him!” you screamed. “You got him involved in your plan and now he’s paying for it! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“I didn’t want to use you,” he said quietly. Your breath caught.
“Oh, how noble of you,” you spat, your voice shaking. “You got close to me, made me trust you, and all the while you were playing some long con! I was just a move you didn’t make, right? Some risk you couldn’t take?”
He looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. “I developed feelings for you.”
Silence.
It rang louder than anything.
You stared at him, stunned. Then the tears came. Angry, betrayed.
“That’s supposed to make it better?” you choked. “You think that excuses anything? You used my brother! The one person I came here to find! The only family I have left! You let him take the fall for you!”
“I didn’t want to risk your life,” he said again, more hollow now. “I thought I was protecting you.”
“You weren’t protecting me,” you snapped. “You were protecting yourself. From guilt. From consequences. Don’t stand there and pretend this is about love or care or whatever bullshit excuse you’re using.”
You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, breath shaking. “If you really cared about me, Chishiya, you never would’ve used my family to begin with.”
He said nothing. Just stood there, that storm of emotion behind his calm eyes for once completely visible.
You turned away. And this time, he didn’t follow. But inside, he was spiraling.
His brain, usually so composed, so rational, was screaming. Telling him he should’ve said more. That he should’ve run after you. That he should’ve told you what it felt like to sit on that rooftop with you. That it wasn’t all a lie. That something in him had changed.
But his logic told him the truth: he’d already broken what he was trying to protect. He’d used the one person who meant everything to you. And now he was left with silence and shame.
And the terrifying realisation that for the first time in his life... He didn’t know how to fix what he’d destroyed.
The Beach burned.
It wasn’t literal, not yet, but it felt like it. The game of Ten of Hearts had begun and the safe haven you once believed in had turned into a slaughterhouse. Panic was everywhere. Screams echoed off every wall. People were dragged, accused, executed without thought. The “Witch Hunt” had begun and no one was safe.
In the chaos, Chishiya moved like a ghost. Calm, surgical, precise. While others lost their minds, he retrieved the playing cards, moving through the bloodied corridors as if the world wasn’t crumbling. But even then, you were on his mind.
He had to find you.
You were on the second floor, running between bodies and crumbling dreams, shouting your brother’s name. “Arisu!” your voice cracked but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.
Then you heard it, footsteps behind you. Chishiya. He reached for your arm, but you yanked it back. “Don’t touch me!” you snapped.
“You need to get to safety.”
“All I care about is finding Arisu!”
Chishiya’s jaw tightened. “He’s probably-"
“I don’t need your help,” you cut in, voice like a blade. “Especially not after what you did.”
He looked away briefly but before he could respond, two of the military corps turned the corner, rifles raised. Shouting. No time to think.
You froze. But Chishiya didn’t. He stepped in front of you with infuriating calmness, pressing you against the wall, his body a shield.
You could feel the tension in him. Every muscle tight, his breathing steady. Cold eyes met the soldiers.
Then… silence.
Recognition flickered in the soldiers’ faces. They lowered their weapons. A nod. A tense pause. Then they moved on without a word.
When they were gone, Chishiya turned to face you. Still way too close. You felt your heart race, not from fear. Not this time.
His voice was low. Soft. Dangerous. Intimate. “You do need my protection. Or do you want the military corps to shoot you down before you can find him?”
You hated how close he was. Hated how his scent hit you. Clean skin and the faintest trace of citrus.
It was everything you didn’t want to feel again. The electricity. The way your anger blurred, just for a second, into something warmer. More dangerous.
You said nothing. Neither did he. But everything was said anyway.
You found Arisu on the fourth floor, bruised and limping, but alive. Relief flooded you so hard it made your knees weak.
And then the game was solved.
The Witch wasn’t one of you. The murdered girl, Momoka, had sacrificed herself. The whole bloodbath was built on a lie. A game designed to turn everyone into monsters. You solved it. Together.
But the Beach? It was done.
Then came the face cards.
And the King of Spades.
The world exploded, gunfire raining down from rooftops, bodies dropping in the streets. The air was thick with blood and terror.
You ran.
Arisu, Usagi, Kuina, Ann, and Tatta managed to get a car. You were steps behind but not fast enough.
And Chishiya… he stayed. On purpose. He could’ve gone. But he didn’t.
You both ducked behind a wrecked truck, bullets ricocheting off the metal. Your breath was ragged, adrenaline blinding. When you turned to him, still bitter, still raw, you snapped.
“Why didn’t you go with them?” His reply was simple. “Because you didn’t.”
You wanted to scream. To slap him again. To cry. Maybe all at once. But you didn’t.
Instead, you crouched beside him, panting in the heat of gunfire, heart thudding against your ribs, and whispered, “I’m still mad at you.”
“I know,” he said. “I don’t blame you.”
You refused to meet his eyes. But in some small, infuriating part of you, you were grateful he was there. That you weren’t alone in this war zone. That, even after everything, when it all fell apart again… He stayed.
You would never say it out loud. Not yet. Not to him. But it meant something.
The air was still. The silence outside pressed like a weight against the windows, heavy with the tension of survival. The furniture store was quiet, eerily so, only the occasional creak of old wood or far-off gunfire interrupting the stillness.
You sat on the edge of a display bed, arms folded, legs aching from the hours of running and hiding. Your stomach growled, but you ignored it.
Chishiya returned from the break room, carrying a dusty bag with a few dented cans inside. He handed one to you. Tuna.
You looked at it, nose wrinkling in disgust. “Do I look like a cat?"
He didn’t laugh. He just sat across from you, cracking open his own can, eyes lowered. “You need to eat. Your body needs the energy.” You scoffed, poking at the food with the fork he’d given you. “Why do you suddenly care?”
He looked up. The annoyance was subtle, but it was there, a flicker in his normally unreadable gaze, “Because your well-being matters to me.”
You let out a bitter laugh. “Did it matter when you wanted to use me? Or when you almost got my brother killed?”
That did it.
Chishiya slammed his can down hard enough that the fork inside clattered onto the floor. “I know I made a mistake,” he said, voice sharp, raw around the edges. “You think I don’t wish I could go back and undo it? I do. Every damn day. But it was a necessary move to find the safe. Without that, we wouldn’t have-"
“Yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, crossing your arms, matching his anger. “In the end it worked out. What if it hadn’t? What if Arisu died? You have a time machine hidden somewhere? Didn’t think so.”
Sarcasm dripped from every word.
His nostrils flared. His composure was slipping. “How many times do I need to apologise?” he growled. “I can’t undo it. I can’t change what happened. And I sure as hell can’t change how I feel about you.”
You blinked. His voice cracked, not with weakness, but with the weight of something real.
“It scares me,” he continued, his tone lowering, thickening with emotion. “What I feel for you. Even now, when you’re furious, when I’m furious, it’s still there. This… this thing inside me. I don’t know how to shut it off. I’ve never felt anything this strong. Not for anyone. And I hate that I don’t know what to do with it.”
He looked at you then. Raw and exposed, his voice barely a whisper. “There’s something wrong with me. I’ve always been detached. That’s how I’ve survived. But then you came along and now I feel everything, all at once. And I don’t know how to fix what I broke. I just… I want to make it right. I need to. But I don’t know how.”
You stared at him, stunned. It was like watching a fortress collapse. Like hearing the truth through the cracks. You stood, slowly, and kneeled in front of him.
Your hand reached for his cheek and when your fingers brushed against his skin, you felt him shiver under your touch. His eyes closed, lashes trembling.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” you said softly. “Feelings aren’t your enemy. That voice in your head? That’s the enemy. You’re human, Chishiya. And that’s beautiful.”
His eyes opened. And then he kissed you. Fierce. Hungry. Desperate.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you could dissolve the space between your bodies. His mouth moved against yours with urgency, like he needed you to breathe. Needed you to feel him.
You kissed him back with everything you had. Weeks of tension, pain, longing, it all poured out, consuming both of you like fire.
His hands roamed over you. Your arms, your waist, your hips, gripping, touching, as if grounding himself in your existence. You gasped as his lips trailed down your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. It was raw and real and intoxicating.
The world outside faded. The danger, the death, the chaos, it didn’t exist in that moment.
Only him. Only you.
The two of you collapsed onto one of the beds, not caring it was a showroom piece, not caring if it squeaked beneath you. Clothes were shed, inhibitions dropped. His body pressed against yours, hot and solid, his hands memorising every inch of you. It wasn’t just lust. It was a desperate craving to feel alive through you.
The neediness of the kiss was now mixed with something deeper. Connection. He kissed you like he was terrified it would be the last time. You clung to him like he was the last real thing left in this world.
And when it was over, when you lay tangled in the warmth of the aftermath, his head resting against your shoulder, breath slow and even.
For the first time since entering this world Chishiya felt calm. Like the storm in his head had finally quieted. Because for the first time… He wasn’t alone.
That night in the furniture shop, after everything, after the pain and survival and anger, you felt peace. Not hope. Not certainty. But peace. A fragile thread tying you to the belief that maybe… somehow… it would all work out.
You and Chishiya became a team. Sleek, efficient, in perfect sync. You beat the Jack of Hearts together.
No tricks. No lies. Just mutual trust and a silent rhythm between you two.
When the next games came, you agreed to separate. Queen of Spades for you, where brute force and agility were key. And King of Diamonds for him, the realm of logic, psychology, and manipulation.
“I’ll come back to you,” he said before he walked off, his voice low. You nodded. “You better.”
The Queen of Spades nearly broke you but Arisu, Usagi, and you made it through. You reunited with your brother through sweat and exhaustion, the bond between you stronger than ever.
After clearing the game, you returned to the furniture shop together. You, Arisu and Usagi. A few days of quiet. Of healing.
One morning, while you and Usagi were out hunting rabbits in the overgrown field behind the store, Chishiya and Arisu sat inside, patching up gear and sipping weak tea.
The silence lingered between them until Chishiya finally said, “I was wrong. About everything.” Arisu glanced over. “What do you mean?”
Chishiya stared at the chipped rim of his mug. “Using you. Back at the Beach. It was the only path I could see at the time, but… I was blind. Because of her. I didn’t want her involved and I thought I could still manipulate the situation. I didn’t just use you. I endangered you. I’m sorry.”
Arisu didn’t hesitate. “I forgive you,” he said easily. “You mean a lot to her. I’ve never seen her care for anyone like that. Just… don’t mess it up again.”
Chishiya smirked faintly. “I’m not scared of you, Arisu.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Arisu replied with a grin. “But she? You should be terrified of her.” Chishiya actually laughed. A soft, low sound. The closest thing to warmth in his voice.
Then came the final storm.
You had collapsed from exhaustion after taking down the last remaining Jack, your body demanded rest. Arisu said they’d keep watch. You closed your eyes, trusting them.
And then Niragi happened. He was a devil made of fire and chaos. And he shot Chishiya. First in the abdomen. Then again, when Chishiya stood between Niragi and Usagi.
He collapsed into the dust, blood spreading fast beneath him. Pale. Slipping. Usagi and Arisu dropped to their knees beside him, hands trembling as they tried to stop the bleeding. But Chishiya… he just smiled.
He looked up at them, his voice barely a breath. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Arisu’s hands were shaking. “We’re going to get help. We’ll-"
“No,” Chishiya whispered. “Leave me. Finish it. You have to end this.”
“But-”
“Don’t tell her,” Chishiya murmured, his breath shallow. “Not yet. Let her focus. Let her survive.”
Arisu swallowed hard.
“But when it’s over,” Chishiya continued, his eyes flickering between them, “tell her something for me.”
“Tell her…” He paused, coughing. “She was the only one who ever made me feel. The only one who ever made me want to live. She gave me something no one else ever could. Not even freedom compares to her.”
Even Usagi had tears in her eyes.
“She was my reason. So if I don’t make it, just- make sure she knows. She deserves to know.”
They nodded silently and left him there, against the wreckage and turned toward the final fight.
The King of Spades fell. Not without cost. But it ended. And then came the Queen of Hearts. The final game.
Arisu and Usagi didn’t return to you. They couldn’t. Not after what happened to Chishiya. Arisu didn’t know how to face you. He couldn’t bear to lie. But he couldn’t bear to break your heart either.
So they played the game in silence.
When the decision came, to stay in the Borderlands or return, you stood at the cracked window of the furniture shop, watching the fireworks explode in the sky.
You smiled. A real smile. “I want to go back,” you whispered. “Back to the real world. Back to… him.”
And somewhere, leaned against a rusted car, drenched in blood, body half-broken but soul still fighting, Chishiya’s lips moved. “I want to turn it down,” he whispered.
Then, the world went black.
You opened your eyes in a hospital bed, the scent of antiseptic thick in the air. Bright light filtered through the window. Machines beeped steadily around you.
Your memories were gone. The Borderlands… just a dream.
You turned your head and saw Arisu sitting nearby, awake, exhausted. He smiled at you but behind his eyes, there was weight. A truth he couldn’t share yet. Not now. Not while you were still healing.
Across the hospital another monitor beeped. Chishiya, freshly pulled back from the edge of death, slowly opened his eyes.
There were nurses, soft voices, the distant sound of carts rolling past his room. But none of it was really registered. His mind held only one name. Yours.
The hospital discharge was unceremonious. A nurse handed you your paperwork and a dull grey sky greeted you outside the glass doors. Arisu was waiting, backpack slung over one shoulder, ready to take you home.
For days, he’d asked you gently, cautiously, “Do you remember anything?” And every time, you answered the same: “No. Nothing.” But he remembered everything. And he was glad you didn't.
At first, you didn’t think much of it. You figured it was the anaesthesia. The trauma. Maybe your brain protecting itself from something terrible. But as the days passed, a strange hollowness settled into your chest. A quiet ache that pulsed just beneath your ribs.
You described it to Arisu one morning over tea, frowning into the mug between your hands. “It’s like… like I’m missing something. I keep waking up feeling like I’ve forgotten something that was once everything. I walk into rooms and expect someone to be there. But I don’t know who. Just-” you hesitated, searching for the right metaphor, "a ghost of a feeling. Like something vital was cut out of me and I’m walking around with the outline still bleeding.”
Arisu looked at you for a long time. Quiet. Thoughtful. He knew exactly what that empty space was. And he knew who had filled it.
That night, he started searching. He spent hours online. Called hospitals. Asked questions. Traced files. It led him back to one place. The hospital where you’d both been revived. And Chishiya was still there.
Doctors were monitoring his heart. He was stable, but they didn’t want to release him just yet.
When Arisu stepped into the sterile room, Chishiya turned his head and the moment his eyes landed on him, hope bloomed behind them like spring through frost.
“Did she make it out?” Chishiya asked before Arisu could say a word. Arisu nodded once. And Chishiya’s breath left him like a prayer. He closed his eyes. Relief washed through him like light.
His fingers twitched where they rested on the blanket. His chest rose slowly, deeply. Like he hadn’t been breathing until that moment.
She was alive. She was here. The world wasn’t completely empty without her in it.
A fragile, aching smile tugged at his lips. Arisu sat down across from him, still stunned. “You remember?”
Chishiya’s gaze turned to the ceiling. “Yes.” His voice was quiet. Reverent. “Nothing could ever make me forget her.”
Arisu felt the tightness in his chest ease. Finally, he wasn’t alone with the truth.
“She doesn’t,” he said. “Not really. Not consciously. But… she feels it. She told me it’s like there’s something missing inside her. Someone.”
Chishiya swallowed. His throat burned. “I miss her,” he admitted. “Even now. Every second. It’s like my chest doesn’t know how to feel without her anymore.”
They talked for a little while longer. There wasn’t much to say, what they shared wasn’t about facts or logic. It was about something bigger. Something truer.
When Chishiya was finally discharged, Arisu didn’t hesitate. He invited him over.
You didn’t expect visitors. When the doorbell rang, you were curled on the couch with a book you couldn’t concentrate on, your fingers flipping pages you didn’t register.
Arisu stepped inside, holding the door open. "There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
You stood, brushing the blanket off your lap. “Another friend of yours?”
And then he walked in.
Chishiya. A stranger.
He looked a little pale. A faint line of healing still ran under the collar of his shirt. But his eyes found yours instantly.
And your world stilled. It was like something inside you clicked. Like a piece had finally, silently, settled into place.
Your breath hitched. Your fingers curled slightly. Your chest clenched and then softened, warmed, recognised.
You didn’t remember him.
Not consciously. Not clearly.
But you knew him.
Something whispered through you like an old melody remembered in fragments.
A rooftop.
A furniture shop.
The press of lips.
The sound of a voice in the dark.
Arms around you.
He stepped forward, eyes never leaving yours.
And you whispered, barely audible, “I feel like I know you.”
He gave a soft nod. “You do." No more lies. No more pain.
Just the truth.
And the beginning.
Together again.
A/N: thank you for the request! i'm sorry it took me so long to get to it. i hope you enjoyed it ♡
a/n: Kinktober starts tomorrow but I'm sick and on my period, watching Alice in Borderlands season 3. In case you're wondering where this came from.
You first saw him in the sterile white of the hospital corridors, days after the meteor had struck Tokyo. Your memories of the disaster were hazy, everyone’s were, but when your eyes caught his across the ward, there had been that peculiar tug. Familiarity without substance. Recognition without memory. He hadn’t looked surprised, not outwardly; his gaze had been clinical, composed. But he hadn’t looked away either.
You ended up sharing long silences by the vending machines, brief exchanges about how tasteless the hospital coffee was, and conversations that wandered further the longer you stayed. Neither of you could say why you kept gravitating toward each other, but you did.
From there, the orbit never broke.
Years later, you were married. Your life together wasn’t loud or showy, not filled with extravagant declarations. It was quieter than that, steady and unshakable, like the man himself. He was still a doctor: sharp, pragmatic, occasionally sardonic. You were still amused by how little he gave away unless he wanted to. But beneath his careful mask was a devotion that had only grown sharper with time.
Which was why, when you caught something as mundane as a cold, it threw your household into upheaval.
You sniffled, sitting up in bed with tissues scattered across the nightstand. “It’s not serious. I know what to take. I’ll be fine in a few days.”
Chishiya stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, hair a little messier than usual from having run a hand through it too many times. He didn’t argue, but the silence he let hang there was its own kind of rebuke.
You sighed. “Don’t look at me like that.”
He came over, setting a small tray on the bedside table. Steam curled up from the bowl of broth he’d made: simple, no frills, but hot enough to clear your sinuses. Next to it sat the exact dosage of medication, lined up with precision.
“Eat first. Then take these.” His tone was calm, but there was a finality in it.
You narrowed your eyes. “You don’t have to treat me like one of your patients.”
“You’re worse than most of my patients,” he replied smoothly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “At least they don’t insist they’re fine while running a low-grade fever.”
You wanted to argue, but his hand brushed against your forehead, checking your temperature with practiced ease, and you softened. He wasn’t dramatic about it—just efficient, quiet, but undeniably tender in a way that made your chest ache more than the cough did.
“I know how to take care of myself,” you muttered, but you picked up the spoon anyway.
“I know you do,” he said, watching until you took the first bite. Only then did he lean back slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “But I also know the complications I’d rather you not risk.”
It wasn’t hovering, exactly. Chishiya didn’t smother. He simply orchestrated your recovery like one of his cases, meals at the right times, medication scheduled down to the hour, water always within reach. Yet, it wasn’t detached. He lingered at your side longer than he needed to, reading on his tablet while you dozed, slipping the blanket higher when you shivered in your sleep.
By the second day, you were tired of the confinement. “You know, if you keep glaring at me every time I try to get up, I’ll never recover. Stress isn’t good for the immune system.”
“Neither is stubbornness,” he said without looking up from his book. His voice was steady, but the flick of his eyes over the top edge of the page betrayed him, tracking you, making sure you weren’t actually going to try.
“Shuntaro,” you said, more softly this time. “It’s just a cold.”
That finally earned a reaction. He lowered the book, studying you with that sharp, unreadable gaze. For a moment you thought he might relent, but then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Do you know how many times I’ve heard ‘it’s just a cold’ before it became pneumonia? Before it became something worse?” His voice wasn’t raised, but there was a weight beneath it. “You can call it paranoia. I call it not wanting to lose what I have.”
The honesty startled you more than any scolding would have. He rarely bared emotion so plainly, but when he did, it cut clean through your protests.
Your throat tightened, not from the illness this time. “You’re not going to lose me over a cold.”
“I intend to make sure of that,” he said, and returned to his book as though the matter were settled.
And that was the thing about Chishiya. He didn’t need to lace his words with endearments or dramatic declarations. His love showed in the way he stayed, in the bowl of broth cooling on the nightstand, in the precise little pills lined up next to your glass of water. It was in his quiet presence as you drifted back to sleep, knowing he’d still be there when you woke.
hello! may i request chishiya meeting reader who's cheerful and outgoing during games but gets anxious having to wear a swimsuit when introduced to the beach (bc reader's on the heavier side). chishiya helps reader feel comfy but not without him being snarky about it. doesn't have to be full of fluff, just chishiya being chishiya.
I’m sorry this is so late!
Chishiya isn’t the easiest person for me to write, especially involving this kind of scenario, and I have body image issues too so it was hard to not just project onto this too much.
Anyway, I hope you like it, this is like the sixth version..
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Chishiya knew you to be many things but a wallflower was not one of them, so when you started avoiding him and spending more time in your room, he knew very quickly that something was wrong.
He confronted you about it within a day, using Kuina’s ‘concern’ as a guise.
You had said something about not sleeping well recently and he let you off because if he wasn’t able to read you like a book, the lie and accompanying performance was, he had to admit, quite impressive.
The more he thought about this however, the more it bothered him, because you were also not a liar. You were, much to his frustration, a very open, honest and trusting person, and he thought that you trusted him, so what were you hiding?
A few days had passed since he last saw you, although Usagi had mentioned seeing you briefly in the kitchen early one morning.
It was starting to irritate him now.
This was exactly why he didn’t get close to people because if you started to care about someone, their problems started to become yours and his priority was getting out of the Borderlands, not whatever was bothering you.
Yet there he was, standing outside your door.
You opened the door a little, peering through the gap like you might do if you were answering to a stranger, except you knew if would be him.
“Can I come in?” He asked.
You nodded, smiling, a failed attempt to tell him that everything was fine.
He walked in and sat on the chair by the window looking through the gap in the curtains at the pool below.
“Have you become a vampire?” He asked, watching at you sat down on your bed, adjusting your hoodie.
“What?” You laughed, confused by his question. Chishiya was not one to waste his time on idle conversation.
“You spend all your time up here recently and seemingly in the dark. That’s vampire-like, is it not?”
“Oh.. I suppose it is.” You agreed. “But no, I’m still just me."
"Are you sure, because 'just you' would be trying to make friends with the idiots outside, not sitting in here."
You nodded. "I'm sure."
Chishiya thought back to the first few times he met you. You wouldn't stop talking. You weren't secretive and conversation was easy but he watched as you picked at a small hole in your sleeve and wondered why this one seemed so hard.
"If you're sure, you won't mind going somewhere with Kuina and I then, will you?"
You paused, a sigh Chishiya was sure you didn't think he could leaving your lips. "Of course not." You smiled.
That surprised him, but his expression remained neutral.
"Let's go then." He said, standing up to leave.
"Wait, " You started. "Now?"
"Yes, now."
"I can't. I-i'm busy." Of all the things you could say..
"Oh?" The signature smirk appearing on the blondes face. "You have a lot to do? In here? This one room?"
A pause.
"..please don't make me go outside." You muttered, barely audible.
"What's wrong with outside?" He asked, leaning against the dresser.
"Nothing's wrong with outside."
"Then what is it?"
"It's me. I don't.. want anyone to see me."
"Care to elaborate?" He asked, sitting on the bed, far enough away to not give the wrong impression but close enough that he could nudge you when you didn't answer quick enough for his liking.
"I don't want to wear that stuff.. I want to wear this." You said quietly, gesturing to your hoodie and sweatpants.
"..I'm failing to see the problem." Chishiya said, for once in his life a little confused.
"I don't want other people to see me in those things. I just.. I don't like how I look, okay.?"
That was the second time that day you surprised him. He thought he could read people. He thought he had you all figured out, but there you were, pulling out a card he hadn't expected you to hold. Insecurity. It actually frustrated him that of all the issues you were facing in your life, this was the one that
got you down.
"How would you feel if the reason you died in a game was because you were too busy worrying about your perceived flaws, and not trying to win?"
"They aren't perceived Chishya." You replied, frustration creeping in and his clear lack of understanding.
"Answer the question." He urged. "Is your stomach, your arms, thighs, whatever it is that bothers you, really worth the space in your head that you could be using for something more productive like staying alive?"
"No. I know it's not but.. It's not a switch I can turn on and off! Do you think I've been hiding up here for fun? That I like being alone? I don't, but I like it a whole lot more than the little voice in my head that tells me I'm disgusting every time I have to put those clothes on."
Early on in Chishiya's medical schooling, one of his tutors spoke about the importance of bedside manner and empathy towards others, and how the 'blonde in the back row over there is severely lacking in it'.
He wanted to tell you to stop being stupid and you were better than this but, then he saw you out of the corner of his eye, wiping tears off of your face and he realised that maybe it wasn't so simple for you.
"There have been billions of humans before you and there will be billions after, so in that sense you aren't important.."
"Jesus Chishiya," You half laughed. "If you're trying to make me feel better.."
"Shh." He hissed. "None of us are important, but, we are unique. No one has ever or will ever be like you. Don't you think you should appreciate the evolutionary process that you are instead of belittling yourself?"
You thought for a moment trying to take in what he said. You supposed that was Chishiya's way of saying you were fine as you were. Tears started to fall in quick succession as you tried hard to surpress a laughing fit, but it didn't work.
"I-imagine telling some-someone that they aren't important.. as a compliment?" You lay back on the bed, trying hard to catch your breath as Chishiya just looked annoyed.
"It wasn't a compliment. A compliment would be me telling you that I think you're beautiful but that wouldn't allowed any room for personal growth."
You carried on laughing for a while longer before you really processed what he said.
"You think I'm beautiful?" You asked quietly, looking up at the ceiling.
"That's all you're taking from this?" He turned around to look at you, the stupid smile he'd grown to find endearing plastered across your tear stained face.
"No." You admitted, looking him in the eyes. "I appreciate what you said before that too."
"Good."
"It doesn't mean I can just 'get over it' though. My brain didn't quite evolve to do that just yet." You grinned, mocking the man now laying next to you.
He sighed, awkwardly patting you on the arm.
"Then I'll have to stick around to keep reminding you, won't I?"
hi! i saw that u write for aib and i was wondering if i can request a chishiya x reader, where they get separated in the middle of a difficult game and ends with the reader badly hurt by another player? idk why but i want something really angsty with a fluff ending (established relationship if possible) <3
A/N: Sure; I followed the concept as much as I could, I hope this is okay!! I need to start writing moreee aghhh I'm doing this final project for my course so it's been a bit hectic haha 😅 sorry for the wait! Enjoy 🖤
WORDS: 1.6K
Chishiya x Reader Oneshot; Smartass
Spades and Diamonds.
You already knew which person had to go where, which one between you and your partner was best for the very different survival games. One was all about using your head, outsmarting everyone to come out alive, and the other was about using your fists, your fight, physical strength rather than mental. And although you wouldn't say that you're the most physical person, especially in the Borderlands, you knew that in all the Borderlands, Chishiya Shuntaro could probably outsmart every single player. Maybe every gamemaster.
It was one of the first things you'd said to him when you met. During the Jack of Hearts, while the numbers of players were dropping on the screen, until it was just you and a handful of apprehensive, strange survivors left, Chishiya had stalked up to you and suggested you team up. The smirk that radiated self-confidence and amusement with the world, barely taking it seriously, but winning every game anyway, just because he could.
"Why don't you go solo?" You had questioned him with a raised brow, slightly defensive after he had called out your behaviour of just tagging along with the group but barely saying a word. You knew that trust was a priceless thing in the Borderlands, let alone in a Hearts game, and no one was worthy of it. "If you're such a smartass."
You thought that might get him annoyed, give him another reason to try and eliminate you from the game apart from being a survivor in the way of finding the Jack, or that you were the Jack yourself. But, if anything, his smirk grew, and those deep brown eyes looked almost curious as they glanced up and down at you.
"If I'm so smart, then what might you be?"
You scoffed under your breath, shrugging and looking away. "Wouldn't you like to know."
"Maybe I would," was Chishiya's answer, and you looked up at him, taken aback. But you could see that he meant it, that curiosity shining through his otherwise blank, assessing features, and so, after getting out of that game alive, and many others with him suddenly at your side, he did know. You both started to know each other, more and more, until you were practically inseparable.
No one announced that you were together. There was no proposal, no question of going out, no massive gesture. You were together before you were together. It only took one sealing kiss, where you were both alone in another long, tense night that somehow seemed a bit relaxed with your company. Chishiya always seemed so unbothered, so humoured by the world and people around him, like it was playing out for his amusement. But now, as you're faced with a dilemma that's hardly a dilemma, he doesn't look so amused. He looks almost as apprehensive as the players around you look when you and Chishiya breeze through the challenges, working together flawlessly. Chishiya found it odd how easy it was to know what the other was thinking almost all of the time during games, to find an interest in someone new and different, until it unfolded into something deeper and more loving. The whole thing was completely alien to the both of you, but you loved it, and let it blossom.
But now, as the large fluttering images of the face cards are dragged through the sky by fat blimps, Chishiya's brows twitch unapprovingly, searching for a solution that will guarantee both of your safety.
"Go," you urge him, and he knows what you mean immediately, staring at you thoughtfully. "It's your game, Chishiya. Go beat the King of Diamonds. I'll manage, I will."
Chishiya doesn't answer for a stretched-out few moments, still looking for another option, a way for you to stay at each other's side like you always do, but there isn't anything. You can't risk losing a Diamonds game, and Chishiya can't risk getting beaten at a Spade game.
"You will," Chishiya says finally, though he's not agreeing. He's making you promise him, convincing himself as well as yourself. You know that he'll have no interest in returning to the real world without you, and by this point, you can't imagine living any way without him. You don't want to, and you won't.
"I will," you repeat, and he nods, not fully satisfied. But it's the best you can do.
"Good luck," he says with a smirk that doesn't quite quirk up fully, and his hand lingers in yours until Arisu and Usagi come over to get you.
Chishiya nods again, letting your hands fall apart, and goes over to Arisu, walking up close to him and muttering some words in his ear. Arisu looks straight at you, then at Chishiya, and nods with a half-smile. Then, he wanders off casually, blonde locks tangling with the light breeze, and you watch after him, hands going cold and lips vaguely swollen.
"Come on," Usagi tells you with a smile, patting you on the back, "let's go."
You do go. And you do the best you can do. You feel like Chishiya's watching you every step of the way, like he watches the Borderlands' events in half-hearted amusement. It's like he's leaning forward in his seat, pools of deep brown searching the screen you're running through, dodging attacks and bullets and shielding your ears from the bangs and cracks of the King's gun. There's so much blood, more blood than you thought was possible to come out of anyone. The stinging smell of iron makes you feel sick, all the while you fight to the death. Usagi and Arisu and everyone are beaten and broken, right up until the King is defeated. But by then, everyone is defeated.
Even you.
You feel almost guilty, along with the rush of other emotions; shock, dread, fear, pain, desperation. You can't bleed out on him now. Not when you've come so far. Not after you promised.
Arisu and Usagi make it towards you, helping you up and practically carrying you out of the game zone, Arisu screaming for help, help for another person, despite his cuts and bruises and blood staining his skin. Overhead, you hear two blimps boom up in flames, falling apart and to the ground in crashes, the card images flailing and burning, as dead as the countless bodies sprawled on the floor.
Two booms.
You smile despite yourself. You knew he'd do it. The smartass.
"Chishiya!" you hear Arisu scream, and Usagi supports your weight as Arisu stumbles over to the blonde-haired man, grabbing at his arm. "Help us. Help her. I tried, but there was so much..."
So much blood. So many bullets. Arisu had tried, and he hadn't failed. But now, as your blurring sight latches onto that all-too-familiar figure who walked quicker than normal to get to you, you feel as if you've failed. All in a moment, one shot from the King at the nearest moving thing was all it took to make you collapse, all of a sudden losing the invincibility you had with your other half.
The blurring made the Borderlands and its sounds fade in and out, in and out, until you were able to blink a neutral, albeit run-down room into view. It was the back room of some kind of shop, with you lying back atop a table, your shot wound being patched up with delicate, expert hands and concentrating, meticulous eyes. Those eyes flick up to meet yours before they're back on the wound, and Chishiya's white, plastic-gloved hand pulls out a bullet. You wince, expecting more pain than you get, and watch him groggily.
"Isn't this supposed to hurt?" you find yourself whispering, and Chishiya shakes his head, not looking up.
"I gave you some pain relievers I found. Don't fidget, I'll mess this up."
You smile and roll your eyes. "I won't argue with a doctor."
"Good," he says with an absentminded, small smirk, carefully stitching up the hole and pulling a bandage closer to the table. "I know what I'm doing. Fortunately for you, the shot missed a vital organ, though the blood loss could have cost your life if I didn't stop it when I did."
You bite your lip, peering at your flushed, angry skin around the wound. "Oh. Thank you."
He hums in acknowledgement, putting the needle and thread down to unravel the bandage. "Stop fidgeting, you little annoyance."
You bite back a smile at his amused, fond tone, one you'd grown to love hearing, and started hearing more and more. But your smile fades as your thoughts run away with you, until you end up blurting them out.
"I'm sorry."
Chishiya glances up at you. "What for?"
"Getting shot," you mumble. "I know I promised. It was just really... I didn't die."
"You didn't die," Chishiya confirms. "That's what matters, isn't it? You kept your promise. And life and death here isn't something you can so easily promise."
"No," you agree. "I know. But you can. You're such a smartass, I knew you'd waltz out of that game alive and alone."
Chishiya smirks properly at that. "I'm still the smartass? I thought you would have started treating me nicer now I've saved your life and you've saved mine."
You frown at the last statement, confused. "I saved your life? How?"
Chishiya simply smiles, fastening the bandage and admiring his work. "You have. Maybe not from a gun. But you have."
You're lost for words for a short while, blinking at him. "Really?"
Chishiya nods, sitting beside you and reaching out hesitantly, stroking a piece of your hair so delicately, like you could break with a single hard tap.
"Really. You," he whispers dramatically, as if he's telling you his biggest secret, "are my biggest and best reason."
And then, just like that, he's back up and packing the medical aids away, looking over his shoulder at you with his usual, infuriating amusement and perceptiveness.
satoru gojo absolutely adores it when you wear nothing but his button-down shirts around the house. there's something about seeing you in his clothes, the fabric hanging loosely on your smaller frame, that makes his heart skip a beat.
he especially loves it when you wear his white dress shirts, the ones he usually wears under his jacket when teaching. the crisp, white fabric contrasts beautifully with your skin, and the way the shirt skims your thighs is enough to drive him crazy.
sometimes, when you're lounging on the couch reading a book or watching tv, satoru can't resist sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. he'll bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.
"have i told you how good you look in my shirt?" he'll say, his lips brushing against your skin. "what a shame that i have to take it off you."
you'll turn in his arms, your hands sliding up his chest and around his neck. "oh really?" you'll tease. "and what if i don't want to take it off?"
satoru will grin, his hands already working on the buttons of the shirt. "then i guess i'll just have to find a way to persuade you."
thinking about how satoru would be in shock when—after a year—he sees you in heaven, all pretty and youthful. thinking about how he would both hate and love for you to be there.
satoru’s death was never something that weighed lightly on your mind, it was never something that you took lightly.
think about it, your treasured husband, the one who is—used to be—the strongest, suddenly passing and leaving you behind. just how were you supposed to be okay with that?
the worst of it? you didn’t even get to prepare yourself, you allowed yourself so foolishly to think that he’s untouchable, he’s the strongest, the worst would be a scratch—maybe even an injury at most.
not death.
and god—how you missed your love, how your heart ached and wept for him everyday you rolled over onto his side of the bed, refusing to stain his pillow with tears because, in your imagination, satoru would be home soon and he would sleep soundly beside you, and he wouldn’t want your tears to wet his pillow, right?
oh, your baby.
“what are you…doing here?” finally, your husband’s voice, a melodic tone, oh so comforting to your ears—rang out, the shocked look adorning his features would’ve been enough to make you laugh if it weren’t for the tears welling up in your eyes.
it may have been a bit of a reckless move on your part, it may have been selfish, but you had enough. you needed to see him, and glimpsing him in your dreams was just not enough.
which is why, when a particularly strong curse struck you right in the chest—cutting through flesh and deep enough to cause immediate bleeding, you let it happen.
“finally…” you could only mumble as you barely held back your tears, not believing that this was finally real.
which is why, when shoko had hurried over to heal you once you were in her infirmary, you had begged her not to, you cried and cried—begged for her to let you die, to not heal you—to let you finally see your husband.
“why are you…” gojo paused, his eyes narrowing in pain at the sight of the tears in your eyes. why were you crying?
was it because you thought you’d never see his face again? the gojo infront of you was in his old jujutsu tech uniform, his youthful features the same he had when he was only seventeen, your heart warmed at the sight.
not like the last time you saw him where blood was pouring from his mouth, face contorted into something akin to resignation.
“toru…” you breathed out, trembling hands gripping the hem of your jujutsu tech uniform—the one you used to wear when you were a teen—not tattered and dirty like how it was seconds before you died.
and how gojo’s heart constricted in his chest as soon as he heard that name. they say you don’t feel sadness in heaven, where you’re supposed to be happy and compensated after all that you’ve been through.
satoru doesn’t think that’s correct, not with the way he always thought about you during the time he’s been here.
“you’re not—you’re not supposed to be here.” because as much as he missed your warm presence, he knew that you shouldn’t be here.
he was aching to pull you close, to keep you here, but you should be alive right now—not here with him, you should be living the life you deserve.
“what do you mean? this is just where I’m supposed to be.” you hummed, pink lips curving up into a small smile, feeling your nose burn with the tears you’ve been holding back.
at long last, your husband was infront of you once more.
satoru felt his knees go weak at the sight of your smile. you looked so radiant, so youthful—glowing.
you carried the looks of your teen self, in your school uniform, hair done the way you used to wear it back then. you carried no scars on that pretty face of yours, just how he had always preferred you to be, free from the injuries and scars and harm of the jujutsu world.
“you won—you won the battle—“ his voice shook, cracking at the end, those pretty eyes of his welling up with tears, “baby, you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to live a happy long life—you told me you wanted to—“
your eyes widened. there he was, your husband, crying, tears leaving his eyes and dripping down his sculpted features, eyes narrowed in…disbelief? pain?
gojo satoru was crying for you, for your sake, he was coming apart so undone just for…you.
his beloved wife. his bride.
“i wanted you to—live a happy long life. i didn’t want you to die so early, you don’t deserve that—“ he felt his breath hitch, caught in his throat as his shoulders shook.
he knew that you were finally supposed to be happy in heaven, but he couldn’t fathom the thought of you dying.
a small chuckle left your lips, almost as if in disbelief of how he uttered those words out, “how was i supposed to live without you, ‘toru?” your hands reach out, gently cradling his face, eyes soft.
his chest tightened, your use of past tense—was—it all only solidified the fact that you were dead, the fact that you were here because of him.
“you should’ve lived a long life—“ his heart ached at the past tense, “you should’ve retired, and lived the life you’ve wanted. you shouldn’t have died…not after everything.”
he feels your hands around his face, soft and not calloused with scars and years of training, not like how it used to be.
it felt so comforting, so real.
he loves and hates it at the same time,
he hates it because you had always told him that you wanted to live a long life, to retire from being a sorcerer and experiencing what you didn’t get to when you chose to become a sorcerer.
you wanted to take care of yuji, megumi, and nobara; to give them the motherly love they never received.
he took that away from them—and most importantly, you.
“come on, shhh…don’t cry.” you mumbled, eyes softening as you looked up at him, feeling your breath hitch at his tears, “it’s been a year since i’ve seen you, and you greet me with tears?”a small chuckle left your lips, thumb wiping under his pretty eyes.
but he also loves it, because it’s a reminder that all the suffering is over.
“i wrote you a letter…i told you to live on without me. why do you never listen?” despite his tears, he found a small smile forming on his lips, a sense of familiarity sparking in him at your soft voice.
death was a normal part of a sorcerer’s life, satoru knew that best, yet his irrational thoughts just seemed to take over when it came to you, death should’ve never followed you.
“you seriously think it’s that easy? that i’ll be able to live normally and happy just because of a few words on paper telling me to?” you let out a small huff, thumb brushing away a stray tear under his eye.
“that letter, i ripped it.” because it signified the end, that he left them for good, and you couldn’t allow that.
a small laugh left him at your words, shaking his head fondly at your stubborn nature, he was glad his death didn’t seem to affect your feisty nature, “hey, that’s mean, yknow! I spent so much time on them!”
“yeah yeah. the kids…they kept your letters though, megumi even laughed at your little note to him.” you hummed, a fond look in your eyes as you recollected his laughter, “they miss you so much, ‘toru. i did too.”
his heart stopped in his chest—ironic how it did that when he was already dead, you really just achieve the impossible with him, don’t you?
“nothing has been the same ever since you left.”
and those words, they push him over the edge. he wastes no time in wrapping his arms snugly around your waist—where they belong—lowering his head into the crook of your neck, smelling the scent he used to go crazy over.
a small sigh left your lips as you ran a hand through his hair, feeling your neck become wet, “ah ah, no more tears. we’re supposed to finally be happy here, no?”
and you were right, what use was it crying over your death and grieving over it here? would crying bring you back to life where you deserved to be? no. besides, you were finally together again, with him only being gojo satoru here, not the strongest—never again.
“you’re right.” he cleared his throat, backing away and unwrapping his arms from around your waist, instead reaching for your hand and grasping it in his own large one, “c’mon then, i’m sure you want to see suguru. oh, haibara and nanamin too, hm?” he flashed you a small teasing grin, feeling his heart soar—he was finally with you, without any worries.
your eyes brightened. oh right, you forgot they were here too!
you excitedly tugged on his hand, “well, come on then! i have so much to tell you about what happened after you and everyone left!” even though the words tugged at your own heart, you still persisted.
he chuckled, shaking his head fondly, “yeah? good thing you have a cute voice that i like listening to, then.”
you let out a teasing scoff, before suddenly pausing, blinking once, twice, then beamed up at your husband with sincere eyes—his heart stuttered in his chest at the smile, the one that made him fall for you over and over, each and everytime.
“shoko says hello, by the way.”
you relayed her final words to you. after all, she was the one who allowed you to finally go.
it’s over. and you couldn’t be anymore happier.
just a lil smth i wrote while i couldn’t sleep in the morning hehe :pp i miss him so much gahhh u guys don’t understand 🥹 is this the same gojo and reader from his n his stupid infinity? hehe, guess we’ll never know! also, i was going thru the tags n i saw “gojo come back” tag HAHA it was so funny omg 😭😭 i miss him!!!
hoshina soshiro is very she-fell-first-but-he-fell-harder trope coded.
i think we can reach a consensus here that hoshina is not difficult to like and in this case, to romantically have feelings for - one way or the other i think the officers of the third division harbor some form of admiration for the guy. and you are no exception.
but hoshina did not get recruited as a defense officer to fall in love. he doesn't mind that people develop a crush on him, but when he started noticing you being a bit weird and awkward around him, he gets slightly annoyed. he's the vice-captain and he needs all of his subordinates to be thinking straight around him. he cannot deny you are one of, if not the best, in your batch - you can even get promoted to platoon leader if you want to. hoshina doesn't want your potential to be dampened by your infatuation, so he tells you to stop feeling whatever feeling you have towards him. "is that an order from my vice-captain?" you asked. he gave a one-word reply to you in a firm tone, "yes, it is".
he drove himself crazy the next days and weeks because you did not only follow his instruction, you also went above and beyond by completely avoiding him like he carries the plague. this says a lot considering it's hard to hide from a man who leads the training sessions you are supposed to attend. time passed, and he learned to miss your presence - he started to reminisce about how different it is when you were a constant inclusion in his everyday life, and how dull things are for him now that you have effectively ghosted him.
but you weren't really gone - you are a third division defense officer so you are still beholden to your sworn duties and obligations to protect your country from kaiju threats. but in an attempt to neutralise a kaiju one time, you have hurt yourself - injured to the point that even vice-captain hoshina soshiro himself got scared he was going to lose you.
"don't get attached to any of your teammates," is something he would tell the new recruits during their initiation as members of the division. hoshina soshiro wished he could have listened to himself.
when you regained your consciousness at the hospital, hoshina was the first person you laid your eyes on. he's fallen asleep while sitting uncomfortably in a chair beside your bed, his hand holding yours, your fingers intertwined with his.
a/n: anon requested. will there ever be a time i don’t end something with dialogue? also no warnings just fluff and flirting.
↠ subtle affection prompt drabbles
he’s late, as usual, satoru is late. you can’t really fault him for it, he’s a busy man. but this restaurant is unfamiliar, and you didn’t much like unfamiliar. the god awful neon lights flashing everywhere and bustling laughter fill the atmosphere, making you involuntarily tense up. you’d even pulled out all the stops for tonight, it’s been awhile since your boyfriend had free time to take you out. your hair and makeup were impeccably done, dress tight in all the right places. you even wore his favorite perfume; with notes of redcurrant, rose and vanilla. you looked hot, you knew it and apparently so did he.
you’re sitting at the bar of the restaurant, nursing your favorite drink. it all starts with a charming smile, a bit too polished to be entirely innocent. he sidles up next to you, with this fake confidence oozing out of him. "hey there,” he starts, with a voice that was almost grating, black hair slicked black and a rolex on his wrist that he tries to flex as if that meant anything. "what's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?"
you can’t help but roll your eyes internally, keeping your polite, albeit fake, smile in place. “waiting for someone,” you reply curtly, hoping it would be enough to deter him. instead, he leans closer, his cologne invasive and too strong, hitting your nostrils like a train.
“seems like you’ve been waiting to long,” he says, grin widening as he runs a hand through his gelled hair, “see, me…i’d never leave a girl as pretty as you waiting.” he flags down the bartender, his beady eyes not leaving yours which makes you shift in your seat.
you glance around anxiously, checking the entrance, hoping desperately to see that familiar head of snowy white hair and those perpetually hidden eyes. part of you wants to just get up and leave, but you stay seated. you turn to the man, ready to tell him off when you feel a familiar presence behind you.
“sorry i’m late, love.” satoru says, his hand falling to the small of your back. his fingers press gently into the fabric of your dress, and the contact sends a shiver through you. not because you're startled, but because it’s comforting. he always knows exactly how to calm your nerves in these little ways.
as if on autopilot, you lean back into his touch, the tension in your body melting away almost immediately. he doesn’t need to grip tightly or make a show of possession; the subtlety is exactly what makes it so powerful.
“didn’t mean to interrupt,” satoru continues, his voice smooth as silk. he doesn’t remove his hand, and you can feel the slight, almost imperceptible movements. a thumb rubbing gently, a slight increase in pressure, all affirming you that he’s here now.
when you look behind you see satoru standing tall and effortlessly confident, his blue eyes twinkling behind his thick shades. a crinkle of his ever confident, but ever attractive smile touching his lips as he takes in the scene before him. he’s every bit as handsome as the first time you laid eyes on him. perhaps more so with his eyes fixated on this strange man, satoru’s expression is relaxed, almost bored, but the hand on your back carries a weight of silent authority.
"satoru," you breathe out in releif.
he grins, all too pleased with himself. "sorry i'm late." he leans down, his breath tickling your ear. "looks like someone decided to start without me."
you can almost hear the pout in your voice. "i didn’t ask him to."
satoru chuckles softly “of course not," he murmurs. he lifts his shades, his pretty blues taking in your appearance, checking you out and it’s not subtle at all. "but how could anyone resist coming over to someone as stunning as you, though? and wow do you look stunning.” his smile grows. “how’d i get so lucky?”
you feel your heartbeat pick up despite yourself. satoru always had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, his sole focus despite the bustling world around you. his hand remains steady on your back, the simple gesture grounding you.
"i’m the lucky one…" you finally manage to reply, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze. his blue eyes are still fixed on you, it's like he sees right into you, and you think he probably does.
"you’re not wrong there." you and satoru were always doing this, flirting, quite blatantly at that
you hear someone clear their throat and snapping out of it you both look beside you. shifting your attention to the man who had been trying, and failing, to gain your interest. with a raised eyebrow and a slight tilt of his head, satoru's expression doesn't change from its relaxed demeanor. “oh…forgot you were here.”
the man, sensing he’s outmatched, offers a tight smile. he checks his watch and without a word bustles away.
you chuckle lightly, fondly looking back to that beautiful man with the snowy white hair. “were you jealous?”
“me? nah. can’t help my girls so pretty.” he leans in to place a small kiss against the skin of your forehead, lips soft and warm. he rests his forehead against yours for a moment, looking into your eyes.
“well, maybe a little.” he admits, “let’s go eat now shall we? i’m starving.”
satoru asks you to be his valentine every year without failure
he will do the whole routine of buying you balloons, writing you a love letter, giving you a plush holding a pink or red heart, a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers, boxes of chocolate and a nervous smile on his face as he asks you.
“will you be my valentine, sweets?” his heart pounds in his chest every year, eager to see you smile widely, roll your eyes at him and tell him yes.
“you know I’ll always say yes, angel boy” you grin, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing soft kisses to his cheek. “you don’t have to do so much every year y’know,” you assure him, struggling to find a place for the newly acquired gifts.
“oh but i do,” he defends, “need to show you that my love grows only stronger for you every year,” you can tell by his slightly puffed chest he’s proud of how eloquent he sounded.
“and I’m thankful for it every year,” you reply, following satoru to the kitchen as he puts the flowers in a vase, throwing out the ones he’d bought you only two weeks ago and replacing them with the fresh valentines bouquet.
he’s be sure to make plans for the two of you, be it a cozy afternoon in with your favorite takeout or a home cooked meal, or a reservation at a restaurant or a picnic he’d set up, he would always find the time for you.
and every year satoru would have the same blooming feeling in his chest and in his stomach, face flushed when you said yes and pressed kisses over his face, telling him you love him.
“my forever valentine” you’d mumble at night, smiling as you watched your lover giggle at the words.
“i like the sound of that, sweetheart,” he whispered, “my forever valentine.” he places a kiss to your forehead before you cuddle into him closer, the smell of his body wash filling your nose.
gojo would live up to the nickname; always making sure you were his valentine before the 14th came along, never missing a year since the two of you got together. it wouldn’t matter if he was across the world on the 13th, he’d be in your arms by the 14th, eyes full of love and heart thumping to same beat as yours.
a/n: something short and sweet before Valentine’s Day <3 hope you guys enjoy :3
the winter breeze is bloodthirsty, greedy, biting at any flesh you dare leave exposed to her icy fangs. you underestimated just how vicious the winds would be, lacking in layers amidst these freezing temperatures.
your phone gives a quick succession of ‘ding!’s and you know it’s satoru because he’s the only one who rapidfired texts to you in such a manner.
it’s tempting to pull out your phone and see what goofy messages he’s sent you this time—what animal pictures or funny photos he always has on hand. but your fingers are numb. the tips are frigid and cracked, painfully cold and it hurts just to wiggle the digits, but it’s about the only thing you can do to keep them from going too stiff.
“do you always ignore your poor boyfriend’s texts?”, a familiar voice asks behind you.
satoru laughs when you whip around to gawk at him, because how did he even sneak up on you? the question never leaves your lips, instead interrupted by a harsh shiver from your head-to-toe, one that wipes the smirk right off satoru’s face.
“oh, baby…”, he sighs. “c’mere.”
satoru tugs you closer to him, and it feels like the bitter breeze has been blasted out of your vicinity. you have a split second thought—‘his infinity’—before he’s cupping his larger, mittened hands around yours. gently, like delicate china, and he moves them up to his lips.
“dummy.”, satoru scolds as he looks over your pale knuckles and fragile fingertips, tutting at you and his unamused pout brings forth a sheepish smile to your lips.
he leans forward to press soft kisses to your palm, your fingers, and then he heaves a first large, warm exhale over your hands. it’s a soothing relief; peppermint-scented breaths especially effective now that the icy winds are kept at bay.
satoru huffs and puffs to defrost your frigid hands. his white lashes have fluttered shut, brows slightly furrowed as he works on getting your hands back up to a proper temperature. he looks pretty, a light red dusting over his nose and cheeks, up to his ears. the sight sends a warmth blooming throughout your heart, more so when satoru opens his eyes again and captivates you in those glittery, winter blues. being this close to him, literally in his space, as he catches and holds your gaze—it feels extremely intimate.
“there, all better.”, satoru hums, coating your hands in a few more lingering kisses. “thank you, satoru.”
and you just giggle, roll your eyes, relish in the newfound heat within your hands. “thank you, satoru.”
