satoru gojo x reader, marriage of convenience, pregnant!reader, gojo’s sealing, au where gojo survives, however he doesn’t remember any of it, including you.
part one. | part two. | part three. | part four.
just a marriage of convenience you affirmed to yourself, then why did your hands shake?
why did you reach for your full term pregnant belly? the baby his baby, set to be born any day now.
they told you he was sealed, in a ‘prison realm’. is he hurt? you kept asking. he’s the strongest, they assured. but is he okay? you kept asking and asking and waiting.
you cried yourself to sleep, blaming your pregnancy hormones knowing deep down it wasn’t that.
on the tenth day since gojo was sealed your water broke. with no support due to your friends being busy unsealing him and fighting monstrosities, you fought your own.
the gojo clan collapsed due to his absence, so you drove yourself to the hospital, contractions threatening to kill you.
the nurses kept calling him, your emergency contact. and when he didn’t pick up they let you know. you had no explanation for them.
your first pregnancy and your first delivery.
you were scared, you were so so scared.
you hoped he’d come, walk in with all his blue eyed glory, his presence soothing.
he didn’t, yet the heart still hoped.
and hope did come, in the shape of your daughter.
born a healthy baby, a stark resemblance of him, the same frost-stricken hair with one of her eyes exactly like his. the same otherworldly blue.
you hired a nurse to help you in the early days, managing the baby and yourself after giving birth proving to be much more difficult on your own.
he doesn’t know his daughter was born, and he wasn’t there. he’ll be devastated.
you turned away from any thought of him not making it back to you, bottling everything up until you were hollow inside.
depression hit you in waves, you sat by the window, your daughter asleep in the cot, wishing for his health, and missing him.
missing his smile, his laugh, the way he rubbed his neck when he was nervous, the first time you gave yourself to him. all things rare in your marriage, but still there, still yours to miss.
you wanted to tell your daughter about the two of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to.
the man you got married to, was a shell of a person he used to be, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders, he was distant, unloving. the man you got married to, tolerated you out of obligation.
you’d heard of the old gojo satoru in stories ofcourse.
women around the estate loved to talk.
about his liveliness, his non-serious facade.
all that talk so unfamiliar to you, you searched for pieces of that man in your husband.
you never had a honeymoon with him, too busy with duty, he just didn’t have the time.
newly wed you’d wish for any flicker of his attention. you’d polish plates until they gleamed and glistened. set the table with the finest cutlery, hours spent on making his favorite dishes. just for silent dinner of your words left unsaid.
“how was your day?” you’d question.
“it was alright.” he’d sigh, never looking up, never meeting your eyes.
you’d ask him that daily in the early days, and then later you’d wonder why he never asked anything back. he never asked anything at all.
until, the day you were both called to the higher ups, disappointment and impatience apparent in their tone.
“it’s been a year, why has she still not conceived?”
in that moment, you saw your husbands jaw tick. finally some glimmer of emotion. he turned on his heel and walked out, you following close behind.
“i know it is the reason we are married, but i will never rush you on this matter, do you understand?” his eyes softened talking to you then.
you just nodded, in that moment you longed for more, from your husband.
that night where much was done and nothing was said, you took out a piece of paper and some ink.
a diary entry on a single sheet, held on by flimsy ties much like your marriage.
and you wrote, a small paragraph, yet heartfelt.
"I have dreams of you asking me better questions. Your desire to know more makes the love feel fuller. Then l open my eyes and you're never as curious as I want."
you left the room then, unable to stand the sight of your own emotions written out like this. that piece of paper crumbled up and discarded.
you didn’t know, someone other than you had read those words too.
you wished you had met him, before all of this. before he changed.
you deemed that, that part of gojo satoru had died and whatever was left was now your husband.
you sighed, too tired to cry, too tired to rage.
nine days after your daughter was born, gojo satoru was unsealed.
due to the responsibility of his heir, you were forbidden from leaving the gojo clan’s estate.
your heart leapt and raced, as you heard about the fights and the losses.
the day he bested the king of curses you got a call from shoko, you were his emergency contact after all.
and then you ran.
seemingly enough, you too had become a shell of a person you once were. burdened by duty of giving the strongest a heir, in an unhappy marriage, you had lost the girl you used to be. just as lively as the gojo satoru you heard stories about.
the glimmer of that past self shined then, as you ran up the stairs, round a corridor, down the hall.
you knew he was here, you could feel it.
out of breath and heart in your hands you pushed open the door, delighted at the sight of that familiar luminous white hair, impossible to miss.
but…something was different.
the man infront of you, tilted his head grinning “you must be my wife, that shoko keeps telling me about”
you had never seen him smile like that, so full of life, so carefree.
Synopsis: A hidden passage behind an abandoned mall leads Sukuna and his friends into a place that shouldn't exist. Endless hallways, impossible rooms, and something lurking in the darkness turns what should have been a simple exploration into something far more unsettling.
Cw: Backrooms au, found footage, modern au, characters are in their early 20's which is why they're making dumb decisions, liminal space horror, unsettling atmosphere, horror elements, smut (f), fate unknown
Note: I did a part 2, so if anyone's interested in what happened after, you can find out in Found Footage!
Toji sat on the interior of a small tent he had set up inside one of the empty stores. One hand reached into the package of cookies while his other hovered around the mousepad, making some adjustments to the video he had recently recorded.
Ever since he was a little kid, Toji had been fascinated by abandoned buildings. Exploring them always filled him with excitement and wonder, captivated by the mysteries they carried. Every abandoned place had a story. Most of the time the answer was obvious: a failed business, financial troubles, owners who could no longer keep the doors open. Other times there was no explanation at all, only rumors and unanswered questions left behind to rot alongside the walls. Those were always his favorites.
Abandoned places possessed a strange allure, a magnetic pull that attracted both the curious and the reckless. There was something exhilarating about stepping into a place that time had forgotten, walking through corridors where no one was supposed to be. Dust settled where crowds once gathered, silence lingered where voices had once echoed, and every shadow felt as though it was hiding something just out of sight.
What always excited him most, however, was the feeling at the back of his mind that despite being alone, he wasn't truly alone; and sometimes that feeling turned out to be right. During several expeditions, he had encountered homeless people living inside the buildings. Usually, he would apologize for disturbing them while filming and simply edit that part out later to respect their privacy. Other times he'd ended up sprinting for his life when they decided they didn't appreciate unexpected visitors.
Regardless, he wasn't about to abandon his hobby because of a few bad experiences.
Currently, he was in an abandoned underground mall from the 90’s that he had read about online. The article hadn't specified exactly why the mall had shut down. It only mentioned that an incident had occurred one day, forcing the entire complex to close permanently. The entrances had been sealed off long ago, hidden behind fences and warning signs, but Toji knew exactly where to look for openings forgotten by the public.
Luckily, he had discovered an abandoned warehouse only six minutes away from the mall. The warehouse had been locked down as well, but after years of neglect the chains securing the entrance had become heavily oxidized.
For someone like Toji, that wasn't much of a challenge. The back of his truck was filled with tools for situations exactly like this. All he had needed was a steel strapping cutter to cut away the rusted metal.
Inside the warehouse, he discovered a narrow tunnel leading in the direction of the mall. The opening was partially hidden behind stacked debris and old structural supports, as if it had been intentionally forgotten rather than simply abandoned. Judging by its structure and the faint remnants of industrial markings along the walls, it appeared to be an old cargo route once used by employees to transport merchandise directly into the underground facility, long before the place was sealed off.
Toji hopped back inside his truck and drove through the tunnel. Darkness swallowed everything beyond the reach of his headlights. Concrete walls stretched endlessly on either side, stained by decades of moisture and neglect. The deeper he drove, the quieter the world became. Even the distant sounds from outside disappeared entirely, leaving only the low hum of the engine accompanying him through the darkness.
Eventually, the tunnel finally opened into a section of the mall.
Inside, the first thing Toji did was look for the control room—luckily he was able to locate it quickly. The metal door groaned loudly as he pushed it open, the sound echoing through the empty building. A stale smell immediately greeted him; a mixture of dust, mildew, and old electrical wiring that had sat untouched for decades. Rows of dark monitors lined the walls. Most were covered in a thick layer of dust. Once he spotted the electrical panel, he began flipping switches one by one. A few fluorescent lights flickered awake somewhere inside the building, bathing the corridors in a cold bluish-white glow reminiscent of daylight. Others remained dead no matter how many times he tried, leaving large sections of the mall drowned in darkness.
The silence that followed felt heavier than it had been seconds ago.
Walking to the center of the complex, Toji stopped and stared. The mall contained four levels. The top floor—where he had entered and located the control room—overlooked the third and second levels below. Then there was the first. Even from above, the final floor looked wrong. Dark stagnant water covered nearly half of it, stretching across the abandoned storefronts like an underground lake. The surface remained still, broken only by the occasional drip falling from the ceiling far below. Years without circulation had transformed the water into a breeding ground for mold, algae, and bacteria. The smell drifted upwards through the open center of the mall in damp waves, carrying the scent of rot, mildew, and decaying concrete. The water reflected the surviving cold lights overhead.
After settling inside an abandoned store and setting up his tent, he made sure he had everything he needed before recording.
The mall was far too large to fit into a single twenty-minute video, so he had already decided to divide the exploration into multiple parts. He could practically see the title already. “I Explored a Completely Abandoned Underground Mall (You Won't Believe What I Found)” or something equally ridiculous. Even if he didn't discover anything particularly exciting, there was no harm in making the title more dramatic. More views meant more revenue, and YouTube happened to be his primary source of income.
Toji grabbed another cookie while making the final adjustments to the video. Just as he finished saving the file, his phone rang. It was honestly a miracle he still had signal in a place like this. Only a single bar remained, and he suspected even that would disappear the moment he ventured deeper into the building.
Pulling out his phone, he checked the notification. A message from his girlfriend. She was asking how things were going and how much longer he planned to stay.
Toji immediately snapped a selfie, flashing a peace sign towards the camera.
Toji: Finished exploring the first top floors. Going to check out the second one next so I might head back soon. Still debating whether I want to explore the last floor though. The whole thing is flooded with dirty water up to my ankles, but I could probably just wear some rain boots.
Almost immediately, another message appeared.
Wifey: Be safe.
Wifey: I love you.
Toji smiled at the message, the corners of his lips lifting. He sent back a bunch of heart emojis, followed by a thumbs-up, before slipping the phone back into his pocket.
Time to get back to work.
For a moment he remained sitting at the entrance of the tent, finishing the last cookie from the package. His gaze wandered across the dark store he had chosen as his temporary camp. Sleeping inside an abandoned mall probably wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done, but it certainly wasn't the dumbest either. Compared to some of the places he had explored before, this was practically luxury.
The underground mall remained silent around him. No footsteps echoed through the corridors. No distant conversations. No sounds of traffic from outside. Just the occasional drip of water somewhere on the lower floors and the faint hum of the lights he had managed to bring back to life. The silence was strange, but Toji had grown used to it after years of exploring forgotten places.
Letting out a small sigh, he stretched his arms above his head until his shoulders popped. The mall was massive. Much bigger than he originally expected. Even after spending hours wandering through it, he still felt as if entire sections were waiting to be discovered.
After finishing the last cookie, Toji pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the camera resting besides his backpack. The battery was still good, the memory card had plenty of storage left and he still had more than enough daylight left outside if he decided to head back later.
“Alright,” he muttered to himself.
Leaving the tent behind, Toji walked down the stairs and returned to the same exact spot where he had left off the previous video, which was inside the second floor of a Sears. The upper floor he had already covered, and now he was in the middle floor; unfortunately, he couldn't go any further down yet because it was also covered in dirty water.
He pointed the camera at the store, turning on the light to have some source of brightness. The beam immediately cut through the darkness, illuminating rows of abandoned shelves and display stands that had remained untouched for decades. Dust coated almost every surface in a thick gray layer, disturbed only by the occasional footprint he had left behind during his earlier walkthrough. A few ceiling panels hung precariously above him while others had already collapsed onto the floor below, leaving piles of debris scattered throughout the department store.
Toji adjusted the camera settings one last time before pressing record. A small red light appeared. Instantly his posture changed, the tired explorer disappeared and the content creator took over.
“Okay guys, welcome back to part 3 of my exploring abandoned buildings series, and as you can see we're still at the underground mall where we last left off.” he carried the camera around as he walked through. The flashlight attached to the camera swept across empty aisles and abandoned displays as he slowly moved deeper into the store. “Unfortunately, there isn't much in this Sears store, just the ceiling tiles that have fallen off over time and cracks on the floor. There's also those mannequin stands that were left behind still wearing clothes.”
Toji pointed at a mannequin wearing a red shirt and overalls on top of it.
The mannequin stood completely still near a collapsed clothing section, its plastic face covered in a thin layer of dust. One of its arms had fallen off at some point and now rested on the floor besides it.
“Not really my style, so I'll just leave him be.” he waved goodbye to the mannequin.
For a few seconds he kept the camera focused on it, then he lowered it.
“Actually never mind, looking at him for too long is kind of creepy.” Toji immediately turned away.
The mall remained silent. There were no sounds, no movements, there was nothing. Only the faint echo of his own footsteps bouncing across the empty building.
He continued exploring the structure with the camera recorder in hand, making small silly commentary whenever possible to keep viewers entertained and not leave them alone with the same uncomfortable silence he was experiencing. Later he'd add some soft background music so the video felt more alive than the mall itself.
The deeper he went into the second floor, the more surprised he became.
Unlike the first levels, which had already been heavily vandalized by time and previous trespassers, many of the stores here still contained merchandise. Not much, but enough. Enough to make the place feel less abandoned and more like everyone had suddenly gotten up and left one day without warning.
There was the Sears store, of course, but there was also a RadioShack that still had some old electronics left behind. Old desktop computers sat covered beneath layers of dust. Shelves contained outdated accessories, tangled cables, and forgotten gadgets that probably hadn't been touched since the place closed. He'd definitely come back later for some of those antiques and store them inside his backpack after he finished recording this part.
Then there was a Claire's store too. Toji paused near the entrance and pointed the camera toward a display rack.
“Guys, look at this.” the camera zoomed in. Hanging from one of the hooks was a small TY plushie keychain. Dust covered its fur, but otherwise it looked perfectly intact. “Maybe I'll get this for my girlfriend.”
He gently picked it up. The toy was surprisingly well preserved; no stains, no missing eyes, no tears, just years worth of lint but that could be cleaned off. “Yeah, this one's definitely coming home with me.”
A few stores later he discovered a Hot Topic. The old familiar scribbly red logo immediately caught his attention.
“Oh hell yeah.” Toji laughed.
Unlike the modern stores people saw nowadays, this one still contained older merchandise; and it was the good stuff. A black-and-white striped jumper. A Skelanimals Y2K Kit the Cat tote bag. A vintage Ruby Gloom Leave Me Alone hoodie. Band shirts. Belts. Accessories. All frozen in time. His truck was going to be filled with all sorts of crap after he finished this series. There were simply too many items left behind. Too many forgotten treasures. Too many things he couldn't just leave here to rot. These things deserved to be appreciated. Do you know how expensive it is to buy something that was manufactured in the 90's nowadays? And here Toji was, standing in the middle of what felt like a treasure chest, free to take whatever he wanted.
Continuing down the hallways, he occasionally pointed the camera towards the railings overlooking the lower levels. The view from above made the mall look even bigger. Rows upon rows of storefronts stretched into darkness. Some sections remained illuminated by the lights he had activated earlier while others disappeared completely into blackness.
He had to watch where he stepped. Broken glass covered sections of the floor. Pieces of fallen ceiling littered the walkways. Rotting building materials crumbled beneath his boots. Every step produced a crunch that echoed throughout the abandoned structure. Graffiti covered the walls. Dark stains marked the floors. Mold spread across corners and ceilings in strange patterns. Dead decorative plants remained trapped inside oversized pots, their brittle branches threatening to disintegrate at the slightest touch.
It was beautiful in a strange way. Everything was abandoned, forgotten. Yet somehow preserved, as if time itself had stopped moving within these walls.
For a moment Toji stopped talking. Stopped filming. Stopped joking. Instead he simply looked around. Places like this were the reason he loved urban exploration. Not because they were scary or dangerous, but because they felt like memories made physical. Little snapshots of history left behind for someone else to discover years later. As if he had traveled back in time.
After 20 minutes passed, Toji ended the video.
“Alright guys, that will be all for this part. If you enjoyed this, make sure to keep up with part 4 and perhaps part 5.” he pointed the camera down to the first floor. “Eheheh, I'm still deciding whether to explore the last floor or not, but regardless, if you liked this video make sure to like, comment and subscribe. See you soon in the next video.”
Toji clicked stop on the record button and lowered the camera. The cheerful smile he had been wearing for the audience immediately disappeared. The silence returned. He simply stood there staring at the dark hallways stretching beyond the reach of the lights. It always felt strange whenever he finished recording. One second he was talking nonstop for hundreds of viewers and the next he was completely alone again. There were no comments, no music, no audience. Just him and an abandoned mall buried beneath the earth.
Toji glanced at the camera screen, quickly checking that everything had recorded properly. Twenty-two minutes. Not bad. He could probably stretch this place into another two or three more videos if he explored the flooded floor as well. Assuming he actually decided to go down there.
His eyes drifted to the lower level. Even from up here, he could see the stagnant water reflecting the ceiling lights. The surface barely moved. The smell, however, definitely reached him. Years of mold growing. Rotting debris. Water with no circulation. It looked disgusting. Maybe he should return another day with proper waterproof equipment, or maybe he should listen to his girlfriend and stop doing dumb things for once.
“Yeah right.” Toji snorted. That wasn't happening.
Shaking his head, he adjusted the strap of his camera and began making his way to the stairs that led back to where his tent was on the upper floor. Behind him sat an abandoned Blockbuster. The iconic blue and yellow sign was faded from age but still recognizable. Rows of empty shelves could be seen through the broken glass entrance.
For a second Toji considered going inside. Then again, he'd already spent hours recording. His stomach was beginning to complain. The cookies alone weren’t enough. The tent was warm. And he still needed to edit today's footage.
Blockbuster could wait.
He continued down the corridor. His footsteps echoed softly through the empty mall. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Broken glass shifted beneath his boots. A loose ceiling panel swayed gently overhead. The farther he walked, the fewer working lights there seemed to be. The darkness gradually thickened around him.
Toji shoved one hand into his pocket and let out a yawn. Maybe he had been here longer than he thought. He couldn't even remember what time it was outside anymore. Without windows or sunlight, time felt strange underground. Hours blended together. One hallway looked almost identical to the next, maybe that was why he immediately noticed it. There was a strange faint glow.
Toji stopped walking. His eyes narrowed. “...Huh?”
The glow was coming from the wall.
At first he thought it was a reflection. Maybe the lightning bouncing off a polished surface. But the more he stared at it, the less sense that explanation made. The light wasn't moving. It wasn't flickering. It was just... there. A thin sliver of pale cutting through the darkness.
Weird.
Toji frowned. He had memorized the layout of the mall from the blueprint map he had found earlier and according to it there shouldn't be anything behind this wall. Maybe it was the light reflecting on it, or perhaps his eyes were simply tired. After all, he had been inside this place for hours.
Still, curiosity slowly began creeping into the back of his mind. The same curiosity that had gotten him into trouble more times than he could count.
Toji took a few steps closer. The glow became brighter and brighter. Now he could see exactly where it was coming from, a crack; a very thin crack running vertically across the wall. A crack that absolutely should not have been there.
Toji approached it carefully.
The light spilling through was unlike anything else in the mall. It wasn't like the cool daylight lights. It wasn't white either. It almost looked… artificial.
He leaned closer. There was nothing; no voices, no machinery, no footsteps, not even the distant hum of electricity.
“Hello?” Toji called out, his voice echoed through the corridor.
No response came back.
Toji swallowed.
Now that he was standing this close, he could clearly see the light pouring through the crack. There was definitely something on the other side. Something that wasn't supposed to exist according to every map he had found; and that bothered him, because abandoned buildings followed rules. Maybe not legal and safe rules, but they followed logic. There was always an explanation. A hidden room. A forgotten hallway. An old maintenance area. Something. But this? This made absolutely no sense.
Curious despite the growing unease in his chest, Toji lifted his hand and clenched it into a fist. The logical thing to do would be to knock on the wall. If there was a hollow space behind it then he'd hear the echo immediately. Maybe there really was another section of the mall hidden away from the blueprints. It wouldn't be the first time old documentation was incomplete. Buildings this large often had maintenance corridors, storage rooms or forgotten expansions that never appeared on public records. The more he thought about it, the more reasonable explanations he found. A hidden room. A sealed-off hallway. A forgotten employee area. Anything made more sense than whatever his imagination was currently suggesting.
Swallowing hard, Toji stepped closer until he was standing directly in front of the crack. Up close the wall looked completely normal. If not for the strange glow leaking through the thin opening, there would have been nothing remarkable about it. Yet despite that, his heart continued pounding against his ribs. Something about this felt wrong. Not dangerous necessarily, just wrong; like looking at a puzzle piece that didn't belong to the same set.
“You're overthinking it,” Toji muttered to himself, letting out a nervous laugh that sounded strangely loud within the empty corridor.
Taking one final breath, Toji raised his fist and moved forward. He expected his knuckles to touch the concrete. Instead, they kept going. His entire hand passed through the wall.
For a split second, his brain completely failed to process what had happened. The wall rippled around his wrist like disturbed water before becoming solid again. Toji stared blankly at the spot where his hand had vanished, then reality caught up with him.
“What the fuck?!” he stumbled backwards so fast that his feet tangled with each other. The camera nearly slipped from his hands as he crashed onto the floor. His heart hammered violently against his chest while every muscle in his body tensed.
For several seconds he simply sat there staring at the wall. Nothing happened. The crack continued glowing softly. The wall remained completely still.
Toji wiped the sweat from his forehead and forced himself to take a few deep breaths. Okay. Okay. He definitely did not imagine that. There was absolutely no way. His hand had gone through the wall. Not bounced off it. Not pushed through some hidden door. Gone through it as if the concrete wasn't even there.
The realization made his stomach twist.
For a brief moment he considered leaving. Forget the recording. Forget the mysterious light. Just grab his stuff, drive home and pretend he never found this place. Yet even as the thought crossed his mind he already knew it wasn't going to happen. If he left now, he'd spend the rest of his life wondering what was on the other side.
Slowly, Toji pushed himself back onto his feet, pressing the camera recorder tightly against his chest. His palms felt clammy. His breathing still hadn't completely settled. Despite that, he found himself stepping forward again; one step, then another and another. Eventually he was standing directly in front of the wall once more.
“Okay…” he breathed out shakily. “You're okay.” he ran a hand through his hair. “You know you're not crazy. You saw your own hand go through the wall.” the words sounded ridiculous the moment they left his mouth, yet they were true.
Questions immediately began racing through his mind. What was on the other side? Was there a way back? What if he got stuck? What if this led somewhere else entirely? Another building? Another city? Another country? Hell, what if it wasn't even on Earth? The possibilities were so absurd that under different circumstances he would've laughed.
“Calm yourself Toji, you're alright.” he spoke the words aloud for reassurance. But being the adventurer that he was, curiosity inevitably won. It always did. The same curiosity that had driven him into abandoned buildings ever since he was a child refused to let him walk away now.
“You can do this. You can…”
Closing his eyes, Toji took a deep breath and tightened his grip around the camera. If he was really doing this, then he wanted proof. Nobody would believe him otherwise.
Slowly he stepped inside. The moment his body touched the wall he felt resistance for only a fraction of a second before it gave way. It felt almost like walking through a thin veil hanging in the air. A cold sensation brushed across his skin. The air shifted around him. His ears popped. Then it was over.
Toji slowly released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and opened his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was the color yellow. Every surface around him was covered in faded yellow wallpaper stretching farther than it should have. The second thing he noticed was the sound. A constant buzzing filled the air, low and unending, coming from the fluorescent lamps mounted across the ceiling. The noise seemed to softly vibrate through the room. That’s when Toji realized something. The mall was gone. Completely gone. There were only yellow walls. Yellow carpet. Yellow hallways stretching into the distance.
For the first time since entering the underground mall, genuine fear crawled up Toji's spine.
“Sooo, what was it that you wanted to show us?” Satoru asked, yawning as he relaxed comfortably in the passenger seat of Toji’s truck while everyone else was pressed together like canned sardines in the back.
“You’ll see when we get there.” Toji replied flatly, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead.
“For you to finally text us, it must be something veeerry important.”
“I text you guys, just not in the groupchat.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“When?”
“I text Sukuna like every other day.” Toji admitted.
Satoru dramatically raised his arms into the air. “You text him but not me?” he scoffed. “I’m offended.”
“You’re annoying.”
Yuki, who was squeezed next to you, let out a chuckle.
“Why are you even here Yuki? You’re not even in the groupchat.” Satoru snapped back, feeling a bit humiliated from Toji’s words.
“Choso invited me.” her smile widened as she looked over at Choso, who was squeezed to her other side.
The truck continued down the road while everyone carried on with their usual banter. Between Satoru's constant complaints, Suguru occasionally adding fuel to the fire, and Yuki laughing whenever someone got annoyed, the drive felt normal despite the mystery surrounding whatever Toji wanted to show everyone. Every now and then the truck bounced from a pothole in the road, causing everyone who sat in the back to groan in annoyance as shoulders bumped together again. At this point nobody even bothered apologizing anymore, there simply wasn't enough room.
Eventually the vehicle began slowing down. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as Toji pulled into an empty clearing before finally bringing the truck to a stop.
“Alright, everyone pipe down. We’re here.” Toji announced while stopping the car and hopping off.
As soon as he opened the back door, almost everyone tumbled outside.
One by one everyone climbed out from the back seats, stretching stiff muscles and relaxing their bodies after being seated in uncomfortable positions for so long. Several joints popped, few complaints immediately followed, meanwhile Satoru was already standing outside with a bright smile on his lips, clearly enjoying the fact everyone else had suffered while he sat comfortably in the front seat the entire trip.
According to what Sukuna had told you, Toji texted the groupchat because he had found something “extraordinary,” something nobody had ever seen before, but for whatever reason he insisted everyone be there in person instead of simply explaining it through messages. With nothing else to do, Sukuna accepted and asked if you wanted to go with him. You had agreed almost immediately. Exploring an abandoned building had always been one of those experiences sitting quietly on your bucket list. It was something you had thought about doing before, but never actually committed to. Of course, imagining yourself exploring abandoned places and actually doing it were two very different things.
Still, with everyone else hopping on board, it made you feel safer if anything were to happen. Not that your boyfriend wasn’t strong enough to protect you—far from it actually, but having more people tag along made the whole thing feel less intimidating. Besides, the men would all probably end up doing their own thing while you and Yuki stuck together. It happened every time the group went out. The guys always ended up in one corner talking about some sports match, video game, or whatever random topic had their attention that week, while you and your girl friends managed to talk about literally everything else in existence.
Toji walked to the back of his truck and unpacked a duffle bag before quickly typing something into his phone. “Alright, everyone stay close and follow me. I set up a small tent in one of the stores so we’ll go there first before proceeding to the thing I actually wanted to show you.”
The group naturally split into pairs as they followed behind him. Toji led from the front while Choso and Yuki walked together behind him. Satoru and Suguru stayed side by side, casually engaging in chatter about something neither of them seemed particularly invested in. Meanwhile you held onto Sukuna’s forearm, staying close to him.
The moment you stepped inside, your grip around Sukuna tightened slightly. A chill immediately ran down your spine. Sure, you had wanted to explore an abandoned place before, but wanting to do it and actually doing it were completely different experiences. The air felt stale. Dust lingered in the atmosphere. Every footstep echoed softly throughout the enormous structure. Shadows stretched across corners where the light struggled to reach. The place still felt unsettling.
A quiet voice in the back of your mind whispered that this was probably a bad idea. That maybe you should've stayed home. That maybe some places were abandoned for a reason. You tried your best to ignore those thoughts. Taking a slow breath, you forced yourself to calm down. You didn't want doubts winning before the exploration had even begun, and even so, it was already too late to back out now. The only way home was in Toji’s truck, and you highly doubted he wanted to waste gasoline driving one person all the way back just because they were nervous.
“This way.” Toji turned around for a second, pointing towards a small store tucked away inside the mall before continuing.
The group followed.
“Sooooo, you’re going to tell us what this is about now?” Satoru asked, stretching his arms above his head as he walked. His voice echoed faintly throughout the empty structure.
“In a second.” Toji replied.
Reaching the small store he had been using as a temporary camp, Toji dropped the duffle bag onto the floor and crouched besides it. The store itself looked no different from the others you had passed on the way in. Empty shelves stood abandoned against the walls, dust covered nearly every surface, and part of the ceiling had collapsed near the back, leaving broken tiles scattered across the ground. In the corner sat a small tent, looking strangely out of place amongst the decay surrounding it.
Toji unzipped a duffle bag he had brought with him from the truck. Inside were several water bottles, a granola bar, an apple, a banana, chocolate chip cookies, and a bag of Doritos. There was also a flashlight, a small pocket knife, a compass, extra batteries, and a few other supplies neatly packed away.
“You’re taking us to a battlefield, Toji?” Sukuna snickered after seeing the contents inside the bag.
Toji let out a tired sigh, already regretting bringing his friends here. Ignoring the comment, he continued organizing the contents, checking his camera batteries before placing them inside the bag and closing the zipper.
“I found something strange on the second floor while exploring.” he finally revealed.
Immediately everyone's attention shifted to him.
“What did you find?” Choso asked while holding hands with Yuki.
“Well...” Toji reached down and unfolded one of the blueprint maps he had left nearby. Kneeling on the dusty floor, he spread it open and pointed towards a specific section with his finger. “According to these maps, there shouldn’t be anything behind this section of the mall.”
Everyone leaned slightly closer. The blueprints looked old and worn from how much Toji had been handling them. Various sections had been circled in pen while other areas contained small handwritten notes.
Toji tapped the location again. “But while I was exploring that hallway, I saw a glowing light coming from a crack in the wall.”
“Great, so you saw a lamp shining into another room that wasn’t on the layout map. Is that why you insisted on us coming along?” Satoru laughed teasingly, clearly hoping to get a reaction out of him.
“This is why no one likes you, Satoru.”
“Ouch.” Yuki grinned.
“Not true! Suguru, Shoko and Utahime all love me.” Satoru defended himself.
“Ehhh, debatable on that last one.”
A few chuckles spread through the group. Toji merely shook his head. His friends were all complete idiots.
Part of him wanted to explain everything right then and there. To tell them about the wall, the portal, the strange yellow room on the other side, but the moment he imagined their reactions, he immediately decided against it. If somebody had told him they walked through a wall and ended up in some impossible room hidden behind reality itself, he probably wouldn't have believed them either.
Without another word, Toji folded the blueprint back up and stood. “Come on.”
Everyone followed after him again as he guided the group deeper into the mall. The more you ventured inside, the quieter everything became. Footsteps echoed through the abandoned corridors. The occasional crunch of broken glass sounded beneath someone's shoe. As everyone walked, you found yourself looking around more carefully. The place felt even bigger. Perhaps it was because there were more people with you, allowing you to pay attention to things other than your own nervousness. Storefronts stretched endlessly along both sides of the hallways. Faded advertisements still hung from walls. Mannequins stood motionless inside display windows. Abandoned decorations remained exactly where they had been left years ago.
“Be careful not to slip.” Toji called over his shoulder while leading everyone to the staircase. “That water is dangerous and has a lot of microorganisms. One of them I read about can cause serious injuries to the brain.” then he glanced back at Satoru. “Not that it would matter much in your case, but still, be careful.”
“You truly hate me!” Satoru dramatically placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be wounded.
“Only a little.”
Satoru gasped. “See? This is workplace harassment.”
“You don't even work for me.”
The group continued climbing the stairs. One floor then another. Each level seemed more creepy than the last. The smell of stagnant water became stronger the lower you went. It lingered in the air alongside everything else, creating an unpleasant combination that made you wrinkle your nose.
Eventually everyone reached down to the second floor. Toji slowed to a stop. One by one everyone looked ahead. And there it was, a thin crack running through the wall. Bright light spilled from the other side.
Nobody said anything at first. The corridor had gone quiet. Even Satoru wasn't making jokes anymore.
“...Wooowww...” Yuki gasped softly as she slowly stepped closer to investigate.
Almost immediately, Choso's hand tightened around hers. He gently pulled her back before she could get too close. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea of her touching something strange, especially in an underground building with almost no signal and no signs of civilization nearby.
Everyone stood there staring at the crack in the wall. The light continued shining through the narrow opening, bright and unwavering. It wasn't flickering like the lights throughout the mall, nor did it resemble sunlight. It was simply there, lightening the darkness around it with an almost unnatural glow. You found yourself staring at it too. The closer you looked, the stranger it seemed. According to the blueprints there shouldn't have been anything behind that wall, yet the evidence was right in front of you. A crack on the wall, a light behind it. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, something about it felt wrong.
Suddenly you understood why Toji had insisted everyone come see it in person. No amount of explaining would've convinced you. You had to see it with your own eyes.
“Curious about this I placed my hand on the wall to knock, you know, an echo on the walls to give me confirmation that there was something else on the other side and not just my mind playing tricks...” Toji explained.
“Yes, Toji?” you asked, still holding on to Sukuna’s hand.
Toji took a moment before continuing. His eyes drifted towards the glowing crack before lowering to the floor. He seemed hesitant, almost unsure of how to explain what had happened without sounding completely insane. The silence stretched for several seconds before Toji finally spoke again.
“Well... then this happened...” Toji stepped closer to the wall before taking another step and disappearing.
A breath caught in your throat.
One moment Toji was standing here in front of the whole group. The next he was gone. Not hidden behind something. Not turning a corner. Gone completely, as though the wall had swallowed him whole.
“What the hell?!”
“Where did he go????”
“Toji!”
“Toji, can you hear us?!”
“Get back here!”
Everyone shouted at the same time, voices overlapping throughout the corridor and each other. Panic immediately spread through the group as all eyes locked onto the wall. Your heart began pounding inside your chest. There was no way. That wasn't possible. Walls didn't just eat people, yet you had seen it happen with your own eyes.
“What do we do?” Yuki asked, looking at Choso for answers.
Unfortunately, Choso looked just as lost as everyone else. His hand tightened around hers while he stared at the wall, searching for some logical explanation that simply wasn't there.
For several long seconds nobody moved.
Then Suguru let out a heavy breath through his nose. “Fuck it, I'm going in.”
Before anyone could stop him, Suguru stepped forward. He approached the wall without hesitation, stopped directly in front of it, and walked straight through. Just like Toji, he disappeared too.
“Suguru! Wait for me!” the words had barely left Satoru's mouth before he immediately ran after him. True to form, he didn't stop to think, didn't ask questions, and didn't consider the possibility that this could be dangerous. He simply charged after his best friend and vanished through the wall as well.
“These idiots...” Sukuna grunted, dragging a hand across his face. “Toji too.”
You remained frozen where you stood, staring at the spot where three people had disappeared. It felt unreal, like a magic trick somebody forgot to explain. Your brain kept trying to convince itself there had to be a rational answer somewhere, but every possibility fell apart the second you remembered what you had just witnessed.
“What now?” you asked quietly, taking a small step backwards. “Should we go in...?” your eyes shifted to Sukuna.
For the first time since you two started dating, he looked genuinely uncertain.
“Uh... I mean...” Sukuna scratched the back of his neck. “Do you want to?”
You looked back at the wall. The crack continued glowing softly, completely indifferent to the panic it had caused.
You looked back at Sukuna again. “To be quite honest... not really,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I didn't expect my first time exploring abandoned places to turn out like this.” the words felt ridiculous coming out of your mouth because of course you weren't comfortable. Three people had just walked through a wall and vanished. “But what other choice do we have? We all came in Toji’s car, and he’s the only one with the keys, so it's not like we have much of a choice...”
Sukuna pressed a hand hard against his temple as realization slowly settled over him. Unfortunately, you were right.
“That fucking loser...” he groaned.
Walking home wasn't exactly an option. Not from here at least.
He let out a long sigh before looking back at you. “Just uh… let me know whenever you feel ready. We'll both go through it together.” his hand tightened around yours, enough to reassure you. A silent promise that whatever happened next, he wasn't letting you go through it alone.
Besides you, Choso cleared his throat. “Why don't we just wait for them to come back?” he suggested.
“And if they don't?” Yuki asked, her voice noticeably quieter than before.
Immediately Choso fell silent. His mouth opened slightly before closing again, because he didn't have an answer. None of them did.
The corridor went quiet once more as everyone stared at the glowing crack in the wall. On one side was the abandoned mall. On the other was something completely unknown, something impossible. The thought of stepping through that wall without knowing what waited on the other side was foolish, yet the longer you stood there, the more thoughts began creeping into your mind.
What if it wasn't dangerous? What if whatever was on the other side wasn't bad at all? Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe this was simply another hidden part of the mall. Maybe Toji was playing some elaborate prank. Maybe there was a projector involved. Some kind of special effect. After all, Toji did run a YouTube channel. He recorded videos, edited footage, and spent most of his free time learning new technology. Perhaps this was just another one of his ridiculous ideas to get views online. Then again… even for Toji, this felt extreme.
You shook your head and pushed those thoughts aside. None of it explained how three grown men had just vanished through a solid wall.
Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Sukuna’s hand. “Okay...” you said quietly. “I think I'm ready.”
“You sure?” Sukuna asked, studying your face carefully as if trying to figure out whether you were forcing yourself to do this.
You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced back to the wall. The strange light continued pouring from the crack, illuminating part of the corridor around it. Standing this close, it almost felt as if it were inviting you in. Every instinct in your body told you to turn around and leave, yet another part of you—the same part that had agreed to come exploring in the first place—wanted answers.
“I think so...” you admitted.
“Alright then.”
The both of you turned to face the wall. Sukuna gave the mall a long look before tightening his grip on your hand. Behind you, Choso rubbed his face while Yuki continued staring at the crack with a mixture of fascination and concern.
“Fiiiine,” Choso groaned. “We’re going too.”
Yuki smiled nervously beside him. “Thank the gods, because there is absolutely no way I’m standing here alone.”
“You weren't going to.”
“I know, but saying it out loud makes me feel better.”
You looked over at Sukuna one last time. “Together?”
“Together.”
The two of you stepped closer to the wall. The closer you got, the stranger it looked. The crack itself wasn't particularly large, yet the light coming from it seemed far brighter than what should've been possible. It spilled across the floor and walls around it.
Your heart hammered inside your chest. This was insane. Completely insane. People weren't supposed to walk through walls.
The moment you reached the crack, Sukuna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Ready?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
Despite the fears, a small laugh escaped you.
Before you could change your mind, both of you stepped inside. The sensation was impossible to describe. It felt cold and warm at the same time. Smooth yet rough. It felt as though your entire body had become weightless. The sounds of the mall disappeared. The air around you shifted. Time itself seemed to slow down until everything became strangely distant.
Then it was over.
The ground felt solid beneath your feet once again.
You squeezed your eyes shut. “I-is it safe?” you asked, refusing to open them. “Are we okay?” your grip around Sukuna’s hand tightened.
From somewhere nearby, you heard voices.
“Satoru, stay still. How did you even manage to do this?” Suguru sounded exasperated.
“I just wanted to grab those headphones!”
A short laugh escaped Sukuna. “Yeah, we’re okay. You can open your eyes now.”
Slowly, you did. The first thing that greeted you was the light, a neutral white light. You blinked several times before your eyes adjusted. Yellow. Everything was yellow. The walls. The carpet. The endless hallways stretching beyond the room. The place looked like some strange office building frozen in time.
In the middle of the room sat a mountain of recording equipment: cameras, microphones, headphones, tripods, memory cards, light stands, cables tangled together in massive knots, and right on top of that pile was Satoru.
“Get me out of here!” he complained.
Several cords had somehow wrapped themselves around his legs while he desperately held onto a pair of headphones. Suguru stood next to him trying to untangle the mess while simultaneously questioning every life decision that had brought him to this moment. In the corner of the room, Toji was adjusting his camera settings as if none of this was unusual.
“Where are we?” you asked quietly, still holding onto Sukuna as you slowly observed the room around you.
Behind you, Choso and Yuki stepped through the wall as well. The moment Yuki opened her eyes her jaw practically dropped.
“Woooooooow!” she gasped. “Toji, where are we?!?”
Even Choso looked stunned. His eyes moved across the yellow walls and endless hallways, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
Everyone looked amazed, baffled. No words could properly describe the feeling. Nothing about this place made sense. It felt real. The carpet beneath your feet was real. The buzzing lights overhead were real. The stale air filling your lungs was real.
Suguru ultimately succeeded in releasing Satoru from the cords. Satoru joyfully raised the headphones right away.
“I hope these work when we get back.”
“Dumbass,” Suguru muttered.
In the corner, Toji finally finished adjusting his camera. A small red light blinked on, indicating that it was recording. Of course he was recording.
“Alright.” Toji cleared his throat. “I did walk around for a bit, but not much. Follow me.”
The group slowly gathered together. Nobody seemed particularly eager to wander off alone. Not in a place like this.
As everyone followed behind, a strange uneasiness settled over you. The room was silent aside from the constant buzzing of the fluorescent lamps overhead. No air conditioning. No distant voices. It reminded you of standing inside an empty building after closing hours, except worse. The air was strangely still. Not oppressive. Not heavy. Almost as if something was missing from it.
As Toji led everyone towards one of the hallways, your eyes drifted to a sign hanging from the wall.
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
The sign looked old, worn, and oddly out of place. Authorized personnel, you thought. Personnel for what exactly? Who would even work somewhere like this? You wondered if this place had once been part of the mall. Maybe some forgotten section hidden behind the walls. Maybe a store that had closed long before everything else.
“Authorized personnel only...” Choso read aloud. “Seems this is our cue to turn back now.”
“Nonsense!” Satoru immediately protested. “We just got here. We have to investigate this place.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea...” Choso replied.
Toji stopped walking then turned around to face everyone. “Okay.” his expression became more serious. “From this point on we're continuing further inside. If anyone wants to turn back, do it now.”
Nobody answered.
You found yourself instinctively moving a little closer to Sukuna.
Suguru and Satoru seemed completely unconcerned. If anything, they looked eager to continue. Satoru's eyes kept wandering down the hallway as if he expected to find something exciting around the next corner. Suguru wasn't much different. While he appeared calmer, there wasn't any sign that he planned on turning back.
On the other side, Choso looked significantly less enthusiastic. His arm remained around Yuki's shoulders while his eyes studied the hallway ahead. The place clearly bothered him too. The problem was that curiosity always outweighed fear.
"What do you want to do?" Sukuna asked quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear.
You hesitated. The sensible answer was obvious. Turn around, go back through the wall, and pretend none of this ever happened. Yet when you imagined leaving now, a different feeling settled in your chest; regret, because if you left, you would never know what this place was. You would spend the rest of your life wondering what existed beyond these hallways.
“I don't know…” you admitted honestly. “I don't feel too sure about this place, but…” your eyes drifted towards the corridor. “I'm intrigued.”
Sukuna nodded. “I feel the same… I think I want to stay too. But I'm not leaving you here alone.”
A small smile tugged at your lips.
You looked down at the carpet beneath your feet. Every part of your brain was screaming at you to turn around. Yet your feet refused to move. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was stubbornness. Or maybe seeing everyone else standing here made the decision easier. Whatever the reason, you eventually sighed.
“We should stay.”
“You sure?”
You bit your lip. Not really, but you nodded anyway. “I think so.”
“Alright then.”
The two of you looked back at Toji.
Across the room, Choso let out an exaggerated groan. “Fiiiiine.” he threw one hand into the air. “We're staying too.”
Yuki immediately brightened up. “Really?”
“No.” Choso deadpanned. “I was planning on leaving you here.”
Yuki smacked his arm.
Satoru laughed. “Excellent decision. I knew you guys would come around.”
“You say that like you didn't sprint through a mystery wall after Suguru without thinking.” Sukuna said.
“I thought about it.”
“No, you didn't.”
“I thought about it very quickly.”
“That's not how thinking works.”
Meanwhile, Toji had already turned the camera back to himself. The red recording light continued blinking. Part of you wondered how he could still be focused on filming at a time like this. Then again this was probably the biggest discovery of his entire career. Millions of people explored abandoned buildings. Nobody discovered impossible worlds hidden inside walls.
“Okay…” Toji spoke into the camera. “We don't know where we are. I found this weird light inside the abandoned underground mall. When I approached it, it led me here.” he slowly turned the camera at the group.
Satoru immediately waved. “Hi mom.”
“You think your mom is watching this?” Suguru asked.
“She definitely will after this.”
Ignoring them, Toji continued. “Me and my friends are going to see what's back here. Hopefully something interesting.”
The moment he finished speaking, he stepped beyond the warning sign. The rest of the group exchanged uncertain glances before following after him.
As soon as you crossed beyond the sign, a strange feeling settled in your stomach. Nothing changed. The walls remained yellow. The lights continued to softly buzz. The carpet felt exactly the same beneath your shoes. But something felt as though you had crossed an invisible line, like the sign had been more than a warning.
The place was huuuge, endless, no matter where you went there was just another opening taking you somewhere else. Every room seemed connected to another, every corridor opening into two more, every turn revealing another section of yellow walls and buzzing lights. It almost felt as if the place was constantly unfolding in front of you. No matter how long you walked, there was always something beyond the next room waiting to be discovered.
At first there was nothing, just big rooms that would echo the footsteps or noises someone made. The group kept quiet, looking at everything in bewilderment and baffled by what they were seeing. Every now and then someone would stop to stare at a wall for a little longer than necessary or glance down a corridor stretching into the distance. The place didn't feel real. It felt like a dream someone had forgotten to wake up from.
At some point, Satoru—as usual—began some meaningless chat, making stupid remarks and occasionally getting a response. The sound of conversation helped. It made the endless rooms feel a little less empty, a little less unsettling. Even if half of what came out of Satoru's mouth was nonsense, it was still better than listening to nothing.
A few corridors connecting the rooms were completely dark, but thankfully the rooms from both ends and Toji's camera flashlight shined inside. Even so, every time the group crossed one of those darker hallways, you found yourself walking a little faster without realizing it. The darkness felt different here. Not threatening exactly, but unnatural.
As the group went deeper and deeper, stranger things started appearing.
There was furniture, but it was all wrong: a table was halfway finished, chairs didn't have their legs, lamps were going through the walls, a desk was stuck on the ceiling, everything was just wrong. It felt like someone had tried to photocopy a room and the image came out distorted. A copy of a copy that kept degrading each time it was reproduced. The longer you looked at those objects, the more uncomfortable they became. Everything looked familiar enough for your brain to recognize it, but wrong enough to make you wish you hadn't looked so closely.
The entrances got weird over time too. At first they were just long empty entrances, but then they got odder. A small square on the center of the wall took you somewhere else. A really slim rectangle led to another corridor. There were rooms completely dark. A piano stuck on the floor. A car that had crashed into one of the walls, dark smoke dust around it. Based on the model of the car, it must've happened years ago. Yet there was no sign of the driver. No belongings. No indication that anyone had ever been there.
“Hellooooo? Is anyone here???” Satoru stretched out his voice, the noise vibrating and resonating throughout the rooms.
As the group went deeper and deeper, more things started appearing. In some places, there were cameras on the doorways with cardboard cutouts of a caveman saying hello in multiple languages. Drawings started appearing on the walls, usually point marks or arrows leading the way. Toji, acting as the group's leader, followed them without much hesitation.
The place felt endless, like a maze. It reminded you of a labyrinth but without the Minotaur... well, at least you hadn't seen one yet. Hopefully things stayed that way too.
Over time, as you continued exploring with the group, your anxieties began calming down. The longer you were here, the more your mind started forgetting the idea that there was something else lurking somewhere within these endless rooms. Perhaps this was proof that once you faced your fears, things became less scary. And they did. What had once felt overwhelming now felt strangely familiar. The yellow walls no longer made your stomach twist. The constant buzzing slowly faded into the background. You were more at peace now, even cracking jokes with Satoru and Yuki every once in a while.
“All these empty rooms, they could build apartments here.” Yuki joked as she looked around one of the larger spaces.
“Would you move in?” you asked her.
“Hmmm...” Yuki thought about it for a second, placing a finger against her chin. “I think I would, though they seriously need to change the lighting and wallpaper. All this yellow is not it. Reminds me of piss.”
You and Satoru immediately burst out laughing. Even Suguru let out a low chuckle. Only Sukuna, Toji, and Choso remained quiet.
“Heyyy, brighten up.” Satoru reached over and shook Choso's shoulder.
“Satoru... let go.”
“What? I'm not doing anything.”
“We need to stay focused.”
“You're too tensed up dude, chill. Nothing is going to happen.”
“You don't know that.”
“If it did, it would've happened already.”
Choso grunted. His response felt different; not annoyed but tired. Over the last hour, he had slowly spoken less and less. While everyone else occasionally got distracted by the bizarre things around them, Choso remained alert. Constantly looking around. Constantly checking hallways. Constantly making sure Yuki remained nearby. The deeper they ventured into the place, the less comfortable he seemed.
From the front Toji called out, “Can you guys keep it quiet? I'm still recording.”
Satoru looked at him and immediately let go of Choso's shoulder, raising both hands. “Alright, alright, sorry...” he whispered before adding under his breath, “party pooper...”
Toji ignored him.
On the walls even more signs started appearing, and Toji seemed far too invested to stop following them. Every new arrow felt like a clue. Every new marking felt like evidence that someone else had been here. He continued leading the group through more and more rooms, the camera constantly rolling as he documented everything. Random holes had started appearing in the floors too, forcing everyone to watch where they stepped.
Eventually the arrows led everyone to a wall covered in scribbles.
The moment you saw it, the atmosphere changed. Unlike the previous markings, these weren't simple arrows or directions. They felt desperate. Messages had been written all over the wallpaper using different colors and different handwriting.
the sound doesn't stop
it knows your fears
it hears me
it hears me
it hears me
God closed its eyes
There were handprints pressed against portions of the wall. A strange smiling face had been drawn near the center, its expression somehow making your skin crawl despite how simple it looked. Near the top—far too high for an average person to comfortably reach—someone had drawn a window with trees and a bright sun outside.
Beneath it another message had been written: if you see it don't move, don't scream, don't breathe. Stay still
You felt your stomach tighten.
At both ends of the wall were more arrows.
The arrow on the right read: Habitable Zone
The arrow on the left read: The End
“Huuuh...” Toji slowly recorded everything on the wall, taking his time documenting every message and drawing. “Habitable Zone or The End...” he muttered. “Well, I imagine The End is just the end of this.”
Nobody said. The lights continued buzzing, but louder now.
Choso finally spoke. “Can't we go through the other side?” he asked, looking around. “We've explored enough and I don't want to take my chances pushing this further. We should all go back. I'm tired, and I'm sure it's pretty late by now.”
“What?” Yuki looked over at him. “You want to go already?”
“Yes...” Choso answered. “I think we should all return.”
“No way dude, this is all too fun and mysterious.” Satoru immediately blurted out.
“Yeah Choso...” Yuki agreed. “We just got here. No way you're tired already. Besides, this is all too cool to quit now.”
Choso exhaled slowly through his nose. “Yuki.” his voice sounded more serious this time, more commanding. “We've been here for more than an hour. There's nothing to see, and to be honest, I don't like being here.” his eyes briefly wandered around the room. “I know you're excited and all, but I don't feel comfortable being here. Honestly, I'd appreciate it if you didn't disagree with me on this one and just came back.”
“Choso.” Yuki scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You say that every time I’m out with your friends. You always want to leave before everyone else.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.” Yuki crossed her arms. “I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t want to start an argument, but it feels like you’re being too overprotective. We’re fine. Nothing is going to happen.” she gestured towards you. “She is here too, and I barely get to hang out with her because we’ve all been so busy lately. Can’t you please do this for me once?”
Choso stared at her. “You don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Yuki immediately shot back. The frustration in her voice caught everyone off guard. “Every single time we go somewhere you act like something terrible is about to happen.”
“Because something could happen.”
“But it hasn’t.”
“Yet.” the answer came instantly. Even Choso himself seemed surprised by how harsh he sounded.
Yuki stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means look around, Yuki.” Choso spread his arms. “We walked through a wall. We’re in some place nobody understands. We have no clue where we are. We don’t know how big this place is. We don’t know if there’s something else here with us.”
“Exactly.” Yuki replied. “We don’t know. We don’t know anything. Which is why I want to keep exploring.”
Choso let out a disbelieving laugh. “Exploring?”
“Yes.”
“You’re treating this like some vacation.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
The argument was escalating now. You could feel it. Neither of them were really listening anymore.
“You know what?” Yuki stepped closer. “I’m tired of you acting like I can’t make decisions for myself.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“It is.”
“No it isn’t.”
“You literally just asked me to leave because you don’t like being here.”
“Because I’m worried!” the words came out louder than intended.
The entire room fell silent; even Satoru stopped smiling. Toji lowered the camera.
Choso closed his eyes, immediately regretting it, but the words were already out. “I’m worried.” he repeated more quietly. “I’ve been worried since we walked through that wall.”
Yuki’s expression softened slightly, only for a second, then she looked away. “Choso...”
“No.” he shook his head. “I’m serious.” his hand moved through his hair. He looked exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally. “I don’t like this place.” his eyes wandered toward the hallway labeled The End, then to the one labeled Habitable Zone, then back to Yuki. “Every room looks the same. We don’t know where we are. We don’t know where we’re going. We don’t know if we can even find our way back.”
The lights continued humming.
“Maybe I’m overreacting.” Choso admitted. “Maybe I am.”
Yuki remained quiet.
“But I don’t want to keep doing this.”
Yuki looked down at the floor, then back up at him. “And I don’t want to leave.”
Choso’s shoulders dropped. For several seconds neither moved. Neither spoke. The two simply stared at each other. Then Choso slowly let go of her hand.
“Fine.” the word sounded defeated. “Do whatever you want.”
“Choso—”
“No.” he shook his head. “I’m not your father. You’re old enough to do whatever you want.” he turned and began walking away. Towards The End. Away from the argument. Away from the room. Away from the buzzing lights that never seemed to stop.
Yuki watched him leave. Something flickered across her face. Regret. Hurt. Frustration. You couldn’t tell. She turned around too. “Fine,” and started walking in the opposite direction.
“Uhhh guys...” you mumbled. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up.”
Neither of them listened. They just kept walking. Further and further away. Disappearing into separate hallways.
“Orrr you can just ignore me.”
The rest of the group remained standing there.
Satoru looked at the corridor Choso disappeared into. Suguru looked at Yuki. Then both looked at each other.
Suguru massaged his forehead. “Satoru, go get Choso and convince him to come back. I’ll go get Yuki and do the same.”
Satoru groaned dramatically. “Alriiiighttt... didn’t think I’d end up playing babysitter in an interdimensional piss maze.”
Despite the argument, a short laugh escaped Suguru. “Just go.”
Satoru saluted. “Yes, sir.”
The two immediately headed in opposite directions, chasing after the couple before they managed to get too far. And just like that, the group became even smaller.
“Of course this had to happen.” Sukuna muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The room felt much larger than before. Only moments ago there had been seven people standing together. The conversations, the jokes, the occasional complaints from Satoru had made the place feel almost normal. Not safe exactly, but manageable. Now half the group had disappeared down separate hallways.
“Toji?” you looked over at him. “Are you, uhhh... going to get them?”
Toji didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the wall of messages. The camera stayed raised, recording it. His gaze moved across the arrows, the warnings, the scribbled notes left behind by people who had apparently been here before.
“Toji?” you repeated.
“Huh?”
Your voice seemed to snap him out of whatever thought process he had fallen into.
He looked over his shoulder. “Oh.” he blinked. “Nah.”
“Nah?”
“They’re all grown adults.” he shrugged. “They can take care of themselves.”
You stared at him. That answer wasn't reassuring at all.
“But—”
“I imagine they'll come back here eventually.” Toji adjusted the camera settings while speaking. “So I'll just continue exploring for a bit before they get back.”
“You seriously don't care?”
“Ehhh...” Toji tilted his hand side to side. “Not really.”
Your jaw dropped slightly.
“Like I said, they're adults. My main focus here is getting footage, not looking after them.”
“Okayyy...”
Part of you wasn't sure whether to admire his confidence or be horrified by it. Maybe both.
Sukuna leaned closer to you. “You know they're usually not like this.” he whispered.
You immediately whispered back. “No kidding?”
Normally, Choso and Yuki were practically attached at the hip. Sure, they disagreed sometimes, but never enough to storm off in opposite directions. Suguru and Satoru definitely weren't the type to wander away from each other either. Something about this place seemed to amplify everything. Every irritation, every doubt, every uncomfortable thought, like the rooms quietly took whatever was already inside your head and turned the volume up.
“Anyways,” Sukuna continued, straightening up. “We should stay close to Toji.”
“Yeah....”
You looked down the hallway where Yuki had disappeared, then to the one Choso had taken. Neither of them were visible anymore. The corridors swallowed people surprisingly fast. One minute somebody was standing there. The next they were gone behind a corner.
A strange chill ran through you. For the first time since arriving, the size of this place truly began sinking in. If someone got lost here… how would you even find them? The thought lingered in the back of your mind as Toji started walking without waiting for anyone, without even checking whether the rest of the group was following. He simply picked a direction and kept moving.
Toji paced a few steps ahead of you and Sukuna, keeping some distance while still recording everything else with his camera.
Honestly, you were starting to regret tagging along. Sure, at first the idea had been exciting and you had completely lost your mind when he walked through the wall, but after spending all this time wandering around with nothing particularly interesting happening, it was starting to become boring. The rooms had felt mysterious at first, every hallway making your imagination run wild with possibilities, but after hours of walking through endless yellow rooms and identical corridors, the novelty was beginning to wear off.
You yawned. “I’m hungry.”
Sukuna chuckled softly. “Yeah, same here.”
You continued walking besides him, your footsteps muffled by the carpet beneath your feet. “You know, I’m starting to regret coming along.”
Sukuna dramatically gasped. “Are you saying I’m boring company?”
You giggled. “Well, it’s not you. I like spending time with you, it’s just that this is boring. We haven’t seen anything interesting, and after a while it gets old seeing basically the same rooms over and over again.” you reached over and held onto his hand.
“I get it.” Sukuna nodded. “Normally we’d find something interesting, but this has just been the same rooms with weird doorways and half-finished furniture.”
“You think Toji remembers how to get back?” you asked, glancing briefly at the front before looking back at him.
Sukuna scratched his ear before replying. “Probably not.”
“Figures. We should’ve left a trail or something.”
“Mhhm.” Sukuna nodded in agreement.
The two of you continued walking behind Toji. The cameraman seemed completely absorbed in whatever he was recording. Every now and then he'd stop to film a doorway, a strange piece of furniture, or one of the countless arrows painted across the walls before continuing onward.
“Hey?”
“Yeah?”
“You think the others are fine? I hope Choso and Yuki make up because it’ll be awkward if they break up. You know, us being friends with both. It always feels like you're forced to choose between one or the other.”
Sukuna snorted. “I get it, but they'll probably be okay. It’s not the first time they've argued before, and when they make up they act like it's their first time falling in love.”
“To be fair, they act like that all the time.” a small smile tugged at your lips. “But seriously, I don't think it was a good idea to split up. Whatever. At least Satoru and Suguru are with them and Toji's not alone.”
“Agreed.”
The conversation died down. At first you didn't notice what had changed. Everything around you looked exactly the same, yet something here in this room felt different. The hairs along your arms slowly stood up. Your stomach tightened. The air had grown colder. Not dramatically colder. Just enough for you to notice, enough for your body to notice before your mind did. Your breathing suddenly felt heavier. The uneasy feeling you had experienced when first entering the wall came rushing back stronger than before.
“You feel that too?” you stopped walking, tightening your grip around Sukuna’s hand.
“Yes...” Sukuna immediately stopped as well. His eyes scanned the surrounding rooms, the entrances, corners, dark hallways, every possible direction. It wasn't panic. It was caution.
Ahead of you, Toji paid no attention to either of you. He remained completely absorbed in recording, almost captivated by whatever thoughts were running through his head. You wondered how the camera was still running, but knowing Toji he probably had enough spare batteries stored away to survive the apocalypse.
The three of you continued walking. The temperature seemed to drop another degree. The lights buzzed louder. The silence felt ominous. Toji walked inside a dark corridor. Without warning he took a sharp turn around the corner. The moment he did, his entire body froze. His posture straightened instantly. The camera lowered. For a second he simply stared.
“What the hell?!” his voice echoed through the hallway, then he ran straight into the darkness.
You and Sukuna looked at each other confused and alarmed.
“What?”
“Hey Toji, wait up!”
Neither of you received a response.
You and Sukuna ran after him. By the time you reached the entrance of the dark corridor, Toji was already gone. Only the sound of his footsteps remained, fading somewhere deeper within the maze.
“Let’s go check it out.” Sukuna said. “We can’t lose him.”
You nodded.
The two of you hurried down the hallway. The darkness swallowed the corridor between the pools of light at either end. Your footsteps echoed as you followed the direction Toji had gone, turning the corner and entering the next room he wasn't there.
This new room was enormous. Much larger than the previous ones. Several entrances branched off in different directions, each one leading somewhere else. You and Sukuna stopped in the middle, looking around and listening for Toji, but nothing came.
“Fuck!” Sukuna cursed. “Where the fuck could he have gone?”
“Toji?” you called out. “Where are you?” your voice echoed down one of the tunnels.
No answer came back, only silence.
“Great.” Sukuna sighed.
“What do we do now?”
Sukuna stood there for a minute, thinking. “We should probably look for him. As much as I want to, we can’t just abandon him.”
You huffed. “So where do we go from here?”
The both of you slowly turned, studying each entrance. Trying to decide. Trying to guess. Trying to find some clue.
“Through here.” Sukuna finally pointed to one of the openings.
“Are you sure?”
“No.” he immediately admitted. “But what other choice do we have? We can’t just stay here.”
“Okay...” you slowly inhaled and exhaled.
“Come,”
The two of you walked towards the passageway on the left, stopping briefly at the entrance. For a moment neither of you moved, silently contemplating the decision before finally stepping through. Almost immediately the temperature returned to normal, or at least as normal as it could be in a place like this. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly. The feeling of being watched faded.
You exchanged a look with Sukuna. “I hope we find him.”
“I hope so too.”
Just as every other hallway this one seemed to lead to more pointless rooms. The two of you continued wandering through the maze. Occasionally there would be a random hole in either the ceiling or the floor leading to even more pointless rooms beyond. Every turn was similar to the last. Every corridor seemed to stretch forever before opening into another room that looked the same. Unfortunately, neither of you had been able to find Toji.
At first you had been hopeful. Every new room made you think maybe he would be standing around the corner recording something weird for his channel. Every distant shadow made you wonder if it was him. But after spending who knows how long walking through endless hallways, you were finally forced to admit the truth. He was lost.
“This was such a terrible idea.” you grunted, facepalming yourself.
Sukuna snorted. “You're only realizing that now?”
“Yes.”
Your legs kept moving, taking yet another turn. The conversation died off again as the two of you wandered through another corridor. The lights buzzed faintly overhead. The carpet muffled your footsteps. Everything felt strangely still, which at this point became normal.
Both of you stopped in a new room, but this one was different. Well, not completely different. It still had the same yellow wallpaper and the same unsettling atmosphere. Yet it was undeniably different. The room was slightly larger than the others. A row of pendant lamps hung from the ceiling, each spaced evenly apart. Bright red signs screamed 'EVERYTHING 50% OFF!' from different corners of the room. There were different types of tables: coffee tables, console tables, round tables and dining tables. There were couches: vintage camelbacks, ottomans, recliners, sofas and armchairs. Beyond them sat complete bedroom displays with different bed frames, nightstands and dressers arranged neatly together. It looked like an actual place, a setting.
“Wait...” your voice came out softer. “Is this supposed to be a furniture store?”
“Ikea?” Sukuna said.
You gently smacked his chest. “Not the time for jokes.”
“I wasn't joking.”
He looked completely serious. You rolled your eyes.
“Even so, why would this be here?”
Sukuna shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno.”
You both slowly began circling the room, staying close to each other while investigating. You peeked inside drawers. Opened cabinet doors. Checked behind furniture displays. Part of you hoped there would be something useful here. A clue. A note. Anything that could explain where you were or where Toji had disappeared to. Unfortunately, the furniture store seemed just as abandoned as everything else. He was such an idiot for running off like that.
“You know what this whole place makes me feel like?” Sukuna suddenly said.
You glanced over at him. “What?”
“It makes me feel like I'm this forty year old guy stuck in a shitty job after my wife kicked me out of the house and I never got to accomplish my dreams.”
You immediately laughed.
Sukuna made a very dramatic face, closing his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows while somehow still grinning. One fist rose into the air, clenched tightly as if he were starring in some low-budget drama.
Slowly opened his eyes again. “You wouldn't kick me out of our house, right?”
The two of you didn't even have a house yet. You just lived together in a small apartment your father had let you borrow while the two of you scraped together enough money for a place of your own. Having only recently graduated from college and started your lives together, things had been challenging at times, but so far you had managed.
“Hmmm.... I don't know.” you placed a finger against your cheek, pretending to think about it. “If you start acting like an asshole to me, I would.”
“Well then, I'll be sure to be careful.”
“Good boy.” you patted his head.
Sukuna rolled his eyes and put on an annoyed expression, but after spending so many years together you already knew he was only putting on a show. The truth was that he loved when you coddled and praised him, but only when alone. If you were ever to do this in front of his friends you were sure he’d kill you and them.
The two of you simply wandered around the store together; opening more drawers, testing recliners, making fun of ugly furniture designs. It was oddly normal. Almost enough to make you forget you were trapped in an interdimensional maze hidden behind reality.
Sukuna's expression slowly shifted into a devilish grin. That immediately made you suspicious.
“Since we're lost and Toji is not around...” he reached into his pocket. “I have a wonderful idea.” he pulled out his phone.
“Which is?” you narrowed your eyes.
Sukuna slowly approached you, placing one hand on your lower back and pulling you closer until the two of you were face-to-face.
“Well, we're alone and there's tons of mattresses laying around.” he gestured to the bedroom displays with his free hand. “I think you can figure out the rest.” his grin widened. He looked far too pleased with himself.
“Seriously? Now?”
“Why not?”
You shook your head. “We're lost in a nightmare.”
“Exactly.”
“That is not helping your argument.”
“It is from my perspective.” he laughed. “Think about it. Nobody’s around, so it’s not like they’re going to notice. Besides, imagine the views we’ll get if we fuck in a place like this.”
You looked around at the strange space surrounding you. It would be like the two of you were having sex in a furniture store, but something about this place wasn’t right.
You bit your lip, thinking it over before eventually giving in. “Okay... just make sure you crop out our faces when you upload it.”
Sukuna walked over to one of the bedroom sets, clicking record on his phone and placing it on top of a dresser to capture both of you as well as the weird-looking background.
“Of course. I always blur out our faces when I upload.” he started taking off his shirt, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants.
You laid on the bed, taking off your clothes as well and getting ready into position. “You even have signal on that thing? Mine wasn’t working earlier.”
“Nah, but after we get out of here I’ll upload it to our shared account. You know, surprisingly, Twitter pays well.”
“Makes sense. People are horny over there.”
You spread out on the bed, shifting to the side with your legs apart. From over your shoulder, you could already see the outline of his erection pressing against the fabric of his boxers. It suddenly became very obvious why he had suggested the idea in the first place. The man had been hard this entire time.
A soft giggle escaped you.
Sukuna leaned over your body, leaving kisses across your face as he immediately got to work, gently pressing his fingers against your clothed womanhood.
A soft sigh escaped you. Neither of you seemed concerned about the endless maze.
Your hand found its way to his dick, slowly stroking him as he continued kissing your cheek and jaw.
The familiar intimacy eased some of the tension that had settled into your body over the past few hours. Being trapped should have felt terrifying, but with him close, it became easier to forget.
Moving across the bed, you came face-to-face with his hardened cock. A smile found its way to your lips as your hand wrapped around his shaft, tapping it gently against your lips before bringing it in your mouth. Slow, steady motions followed as your head bobbed around him, savoring the salty taste of his precum. A deep breath filled your lungs before taking him fully, his tip reaching the back of your throat while your lips brushed lightly against his darkened pink pubes.
“Hmmmphh…” you moaned around him, the vibrations making him shudder as his hand tightened around the back of your head.
Looking up, you watched his jaw hang open as he breathed deeply, eyes squeezed shut while he gently guided your head back towards him each time you pulled away. Fighting the urge to gag, you focused on steadying your breathing against the feeling of him fully sheathed in your mouth.
“Fuuuck…” he groaned, opening his eyes slowly to look down at you.
Without breaking eye contact, you slowly pulled away from him. His hand remained resting on your head but made no move to pull you back. Instead, his gaze sharpened, something darker settling behind it.
Suddenly your hips were in his hands.
With a firm grip, he turned you around until your face was buried in the pillows before dropping to his knees and tugging your panties down. Strong hands settled on your hips, holding you firmly in place as he dragged his tongue across your slit. A bite of your lip did little to muffle the sounds escaping you. Fingers tightened around the pillow instead, knuckles slowly turning white against the fabric. Sukuna pressed the tip of his wet muscle on your clit, flicking your bud rapidly before sliding it back to your entrance. The juices spilled onto his mouth as he continued savoring them, like a thirsty man who hadn’t had water in over twenty-four hours. Sukuna continued. You bit your lip, trying—and miserably failing—to quiet down the moans. Your hands clutched the pillow tightly.
Without a warning Sukuna pulled away. You turned your head to look at him, a smirk pressed on his face.
He pumped his dick three times before guiding himself inside you.
A sharp breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened at the familiar intrusion as he slowly filled you, every inch making your body tense before gradually giving way. Not that you weren't used to Sukuna, but every time he pushed inside it still sent a sudden shock through you, that brief moment of adjustment making your fingers tighten against the sheets.
“Ohh, baby….” you moaned, pressing yourself harder into the pillows while shifting your thighs upward, spreading them further to give him more room.
Maybe it was because the place felt so empty. Maybe it was because everything around felt artificial. Whatever the reason, the need to be close suddenly felt stronger than usual.
Too impatient to give either of you much time to think, Sukuna immediately set a steady rhythm of thrusts. A low groan escaped him as one hand remained anchored on your lower back, keeping you close while the other traveled upwards to unclasp your bra. The garment slipped away seconds later, his touch lingering before that same hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you there as if he couldn't bear to put any distance between the two of you.
Sukuna kept thrusting, his pace slowly losing whatever restraint he had before, each movement growing rougher and more desperate than the last.
Unable to stay pressed against the pillows any longer, you pushed yourself upright until your back rested against his chest. One hand found its way to his neck before tangling into his hair, holding on for support as the uneven rhythm of your breaths mixed together.
“You feel good…”
Sukuna was pounding into you when he abruptly pushed your body forward, the force making him slip out and leaving you feeling suddenly empty. He climbed onto the bed sideways, his legs facing the phone’s camera.
Immediately, you knew what to do.
You moved over, spreading your legs on either side of him as you sat on top. From the vanity mirror, you could see both yourself and him beneath you.
Settling into a steady rhythm, you found your pace. The knot in your stomach tightened little by little, each movement making it harder to focus on anything else. Around you, the lights continued their low flickering, the cold air of the furniture store contrasting sharply with the heat building between your bodies. Both of your noises mixed together, uneven breaths and quiet sounds filling the otherwise empty room. It made it easier to forget where you were.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Sukuna groaned. His hands snaked over to your breasts, fondling them. He had once jokingly called them his “personal stress balls,” though judging by the way he looked at you now, there was nothing particularly humorous about it.
A shaky laugh almost escaped you before it dissolved into another breathless sound.
The longer it went on, the more restraint seemed to leave him.
“Babe…” you whined, pressing your nails on his pectorals, leaving tiny scratches that would fade by morning. “I’m going to cum soon…”
Something flashed across his face at the confession. His grip tightened. He pulled away again, forcing a frustrated sound from your throat before guiding you onto your back. In one swift motion, he lifted your hips and repositioned himself, wasting little time before pulling you close again. Sukuna groaned loudly, any remaining restraint disappearing as his pace became increasingly relentless.
“I’m about to—” you cried out, the words breaking apart before you could even finish them.
“Cum with me.” he whispered into your ear, his voice rough and husky.
The request sounded less like an order and more like a plea. Something in his tone sent a shiver through you.
His grip tightened instinctively, holding you closer as if putting distance between the two of you was physically impossible. Every uneven breath, every sound, every desperate movement seemed to blur together until there was nothing left beyond the overwhelming need for each other.
The two of you came apart at the same time.
For several seconds neither of you could do anything except breathe. Both breaths came uneven and ragged. Sukuna practically collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest pressing against your back as he struggled to catch his breath, his forehead resting briefly against your shoulder.
He placed a kiss on your cheek, sweat still dripping down his forehead.
“You stink.” you murmured against the pillows.
“Like you smell any better.”
The two of you chuckled at the meaningless exchange.
Sukuna painfully moved off you and sat besides you, his back pressed on the headboard. “Wish I had a cig right now.”
“You think this place has showers? I could go for one right now.”
Sukuna sighed, getting off the bed and tossing your clothes back to you before grabbing his own and pulling them on. “Here, put these on before the others come. And no, I don't think so. Well, I haven't seen any, but if I did I'm definitely thinking about doing a part two for this.”
He grabbed the phone from the top of the dresser, clicking the red button to stop the recording before walking back over to the bed. “Uhhh, I'll edit it later.”
Opening the gallery, he gave the video a quick review before making any major changes, like blurring out both your faces.
“Okay...” you lazily reached across the bed, grabbing your clothes and painfully pulling them back on. “You know, next time you don't have to be so rough.”
He paused the video and looked up, giving you a warm smile. “Sorry, angel.” he resumed the footage.
You cuddled against his side and closed your eyes, enjoying the chance to rest. For the first time in hours, neither of you were walking. Neither of you were searching. Neither of you were worrying about endless hallways or where the others had gone off to.
The buzzing lights in the background seemed to grow louder and louder.
Sukuna went quiet for a second, then asked, “Wait... what is that...?” his voice was softer now, kinda confused.
You opened one eye.
Sukuna brought the phone closer to his face and increased the brightness. “Hey babe, do you see this thing?” he shook your shoulder and flipped the screen to you.
Blinking away your exhaustion, you squinted at the footage. “No...? Is there supposed to be something?”
Sukuna frowned. His finger tapped a specific spot on the screen. “Right here in the corner. Doesn't the background look weird to you?”
You looked again, harder this time. The footage showed a dark hallway splitting into three directions: forward, left, and right. There was nothing unusual, at least nothing you could see.
“No. I don't see anything. What do you see?”
His expression slowly shifted. Curiosity. Confusion. Concern. Without answering, he stood up from the bed.
“Ryo?”
With his phone in hand, he began walking towards that same darkened corner visible in the recording. His figure disappeared into the shadows.
“Babe, come back here. There's nothing over there.” you lazily waved a hand, your face still pressed against the cheap cotton sheets.
No answer came. For a few seconds everything was silent. Then suddenly a loud terrifying scream. The sound echoed throughout the furniture store.
Every hair on your body stood upright. A wave of nausea rolled through your stomach.
“Sukuna!” you sat upright immediately. The right part of your brain fought to take control. It was probably a joke, a prank. It wouldn't have been the first time your boyfriend decided to mess with you after sex.
“Ryomen, come back here!”
Nothing, only the noise of the ceiling lamps now becoming louder than before.
The furniture store remained perfectly still. Tentatively, you climbed off the bed slowly. Each step felt heavier than the last as you approached the same darkened corner he had disappeared into. The shadows grew larger.
“Ryo, stop that. This isn't funny.” your voice came out smaller than intended. Your heart pounded violently against your ribs.
As you reached the doorway, your steps faltered, stopping before it. You tried your best to peer through the darkness, trying to find him, trying to hear something, anything, but there was nothing there.
“Ryo... please come back. This isn't funny...” the bedsheet remained clutched tightly around your body as though it could somehow protect you.
Taking a shaky breath, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself, trying your best to feel brave and step into the hallway. The darkness swallowed you almost immediately.
“Ryo... where are you?” your voice echoed into the corridor.
Still no answer from him.
From somewhere behind you a sound. A horrible screeching noise. Getting closer. The movements were fast, too fast.
Your heart stopped. Spinning around, you caught a glimpse of something illuminated by the distant lights of the furniture store. It was a tall dark shape. Its limbs seemed to bend in ways they shouldn't. And it was charging directly at you.
You opened your mouth and screamed. The thing lunged, and everything went dark.
Dividers by: @\somebitchprobably-graphicdump
Note: Ngl I feel like this was a sloppy work, but tbh it's so hot out here I can barely do anything besides be in the pool. Myb guys u_u
.✦ ݁･𝒢.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔･✧˚. looses it when you tease him. 𝟏𝟖 + 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 ꒰Fem!reader ⋮⋮ Nerd!Satoru ⋮⋮ orgasms+ ⋮⋮ overstim ⋮⋮ p in v ⋮⋮ c-pied ⋮⋮ kissing ꒱ 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐁𝐲 : @!xiaoshy_otp on X ꒰ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 ꒱
Satoru was sprawled.
No—flattened.
One leg crooked over the bed, sweat beading along his collarbone, his arms thrown up behind his head like he’d tried to surrender and just… never recovered. His pretty cock lay twitching against his stomach, red and glossy and still leaking, like it was confused about why it had been emptied twice and hadn’t been kissed goodnight yet.
You should’ve stopped.
You really should’ve.
He was glassy-eyed and dumb, breath shaky, mouth parted like he’d just come out of a dream. But you weren’t finished. Not yet. Not when he looked like that—meltingly soft, cracked open at the seams, with all his arrogant charm wrung out between your lips.
Besides… you still had questions.
You crawled up the bed, slow and sweetly. Not wanting to startle him any further...he was fragile right now so you just had to be extraaa careful with him. So you straddled his thigh in your little skirt, the hem sticking sweetly to the backs of your thighs. He twitched. Not just his cock—his whole body, like he knew you weren’t done and couldn’t decide whether to run or beg.
You leaned in. . . just a little.
Nose brushing his, breath hot against his lips.
“Hey, baby?” your voice tender-soft with a hint of faux gentleness.
“...Mmh?”
A soft noise bubbled up from his lips...
“I was studying, remember?” You harped.
He blinked up at you like you’d just asked for the definition of the universe.
“Studying?” he croaked, voice absolutely ruined.
You nodded, all innocent and sweet. “Mhm, and I still have questions.”
His brow furrowed, dazed and confused. “Questions?”
“Math questions,” you said with a little pout. “You’re the smartest guy in class, right?”
“…yes?” He looked like he immediately regretted saying it.
You reached down, lazily tracing his cock with two slick fingers, watching it jump under your touch again like it couldn’t not react to you, even with his poor balls aching and his head swimming. His breath hitched.
“Then help me with this one,” you whispered frustratingly softly, brushing your lips to his ear. “If a pretty girl sucks your cock until you cum… twice… how many times does she get to sit on it before you beg her to stop?”
“Fucking hell—” he gasped, back arching clean off the bed. His hips bucked like his cock was ready to answer before his brain could. “I—I don’t— baby, please—”
“Is that the right answer, hm? Afraid s'not, pretty boy.” you teased with a grin, tugging your panties to the side as you positioned yourself above him, slick already dripping onto his tip. “You can show your working, genius. I’ll be gentle.”
“You’re not gentle,” he whimpered, almost immediately. Hands fisting the sheets again as your pussy brushed the swollen head of his cock. “You’re evil— you’re sweet and cute and I think I’m gonna die—”
You sank down onto his throbbing cock, Slow and messy.. Perfectly taking every inch that was now being hugged by your pretty cunt.
“Ohhh my god— oh fuckfuckfuck—” he cried, voice cracking in your ear as your warm, wet cunt squeezed him inch by inch, already fluttering like you needed this, like you’d been dripping for it since the first time he solved a problem with one hand on his pencil and the other in his hair.
You whimpered too— high and helpless—because he filled you so deep, so fat and throbbing and slippery from everything you’d already taken from him. He stretched you open like you were made for him, like you’d been studying this equation for weeks, waiting for the chance to plug him in and let him ruin your notes.
“Fuck,” you breathed. “You’re still hard. Even after all that?”
His hands slid to your waist, shaking but utterly helpless to stop you.
“I— I don’t— how are you even real,” he whispered, looking up at you like you were a hallucination in thigh-high socks and lip gloss.
You started to move. Not fast— just a little roll, a soft grind of your hips while you clenched around him and smiled sweetly.
“You said I distract you, right?” you murmured innocently, leaning down until your forehead touched his. “Then let me be your favourite problem.”
His head dropped back with a whimper. “Fuck. fuck— you are... you are—”
“Then solve me,” you purred, riding him slow and deep, every soft bounce on his cock, drawing out filthy little sounds from both your throats. “Prove it, dummy.” You moaned. “ Cum in me. Teach me something.” Slurring the end of that sentence, high-pitched and intentionally, into his neck.
Satoru snapped.
His hands gripped your hips like he’d finally remembered how to move, hips jerking up as you bounced down, your soaked pussy sucking him in every time like you couldn’t stand to let him go. You were so wet it was obscene— profound slapping sounds, squelching filth, your juices dripping down his shaft and onto his stomach and down that silvery-white happy trail, clit rubbing on the faint hair there like a second treat.
“Gonna— haaah— gonna fill you up,” he groaned, eyes wild. “You’re gonna take it all, like-ah hood girl. Fuck! You asked for it— god, baby, you asked for it—”
And when he came— when he sobbed your name, loud and desperately and messy— it was with his arms wrapped around your waist and his cock buried deep, twitching inside you while hot, thick cum spilled into your cunt for the third time.
You collapsed against his chest, trembling, his cum already leaking out of you.
He held you there, breath stuttering, heart pounding under your cheek.
“…You’re insane,” he whispered.
You giggled.
“And you’re brilliant.”
Satoru had swore this was supposed to be actual studying.
Just textbooks. Flashcards. You in your glasses and that oversized hoodie, curled up on your dorm bed like a model student. But it had been ten minutes, and Satoru hadn’t retained a single word of your biology notes.
How could he?
You were seated across his lap, thighs spread over his, your warm, slick cunt snug around his softening cock. That’s right. Still inside you— from round three— and leaking down both of your thighs like his cum had no intention of staying politely tucked away. You hadn’t even let him pull out. Not when he was twitching and whimpering and fucked-out, head spinning from the last time you rode him dumb.
“No distractions this time,” you whispered sweetly, flipping open your textbook on the pillow beside you like your pussy wasn’t pulsing around his overstimulated cock. “You promised to help me.”
He made a broken little sound, almost like a laugh— except he was too far gone to actually find this funny. His hands were limp on your thighs, his shirt rucked up under his ribs, and his pretty white lashes fluttered as he stared up at you like you’d hung the stars and then fucked them into his lap.
“I… I c-can’t think,” he stammered. “Baby, you’re— your pussy’s still— still sucking me in—”
“I know,” you murmured, adjusting your hips and making him whine as your cunt clenched around him. “It’s part of the lesson, remember?. Anatomy.”
You reached down, flicking the page.
“Let’s start with the nervous system.” You trailed your fingertips down his chest, right over his sternum. “What’s this called?”
He blinked. Looked down at your hand. Then back at your face.
“…Uh…”
“Wrong,” you sang, grinding just a little and watching his head loll back with a groan. “That’s your sternum. C'mon, you know this, baby.”
“I don’t— I don’t know anything anymore,” he whimpered. “You fucked it out of me—there’s nothing in there—” He shook his head twice for emphasise.
You giggled, soft and cruel, and oh so sweet.
“That’s okay. We’ll go slow, baby”
Your hands slipped down to his pelvis, pressing just above where his soft, sensitive cock was still buried in you.
“What about this?” you asked sweetly. “Name this bone.”
He blinked through a haze of tears.
“Satoru,” you whispered. “Come on. You’re a genius, remember? Smartest boy in class. Use your big brain for me.”
“Pelvis!” he sobbed, voice a pitch too high. “That’s my pelvis— I swear—”
“Good boy,” you praised, leaning forward to kiss his forehead as your pussy fluttered again around him. “See? You do remember things. Even with your cock full of cum.”
He moaned. Just one long, low sound like you’d unlocked something unspeakable.
“Next question,” you whispered, tilting your hips and earning another desperate twitch from the mess of a man under you. “If a girl rides you three times, takes every drop of your cum, and doesn’t let your cock leave her pussy… what happens if she starts to bounce again?”
His eyes went wide.
“Don’t— don’t you dare—”
You dared. You did.
You bounced. Just once. Then again— slow and careful, grinding over his cock like you were trying to stuff him even deeper. And Satoru screamed.
“NO—no no no—baby please—I’ll cum again— I will—”
“I know,” you whispered, letting your nails trace lazy patterns over his chest, marking his skin, faint red lines appearing now. “That’s why I’m asking.”
“Y-you’re gonna break me—”
“I’m just making sure you learn.”
You picked up the pace.
Slow, squishy little bounces, your soaked pussy sliding down his overstimulated cock like you needed another orgasm outta him, like it had been ages since the last one. And he couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t even beg properly. Just lay there, gasping, moaning, thrashing as your cunt worked him to the edge again.
“Want your answer?” you cooed, leaning down until your lips brushed his ear.
He whimpered.
“She makes you cum again.” Fuck pretty girl. You're gonna make me fuckin' cum again.
And he did.
This time, it wasn’t loud. It was broken. Cracked. A whimper into your shoulder as his body curled, and his cock spilled into you again— barely anything left, but his balls still tried, throbbing weakly as he gave you one more pathetic, creamy mess to claim.
You didn’t move. Just kissed his cheek and sighed.
“Thanks for helping me study, baby,” you whispered against his temple. “I’ll ace my test. And your dick’s gonna get a gold star.”
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ cw: hurt/comfort, jealous megumi, friends with benefits, poor yuji is just minding his business and then a wild megumi appears, piv sex, sub-ish megumi, creampie, megumi does not communicate his feelings at all, mutual pining, adult megumi, adult yuji, 2.2k
note: hiii this is based off of this request i got! he isn't very subby but i tried!
masterlist
you and megumi had an arrangement.
it started one night after a mission that left both of you bloodied and wired, he’d pinned you against the wall of an empty classroom and kissed you like he was starving. neither of you had talked about it the next morning. or the morning after that. it simply became a pattern of late nights, shared showers that lasted too long, and his cock buried deep inside of you.
friends with benefits. that was the label you’d both settled on.
you told yourself it was enough.
megumi never asked for more. he never stayed the night. he never kissed you in daylight.
yuji, on the other hand, had never learned the meaning of personal space.
he hugged you when he was happy. he hugged you when he was tired. he threw an arm around your shoulders while you walked across campus, high-fived you hard enough to sting, and once, after a particularly brutal training session, had scooped you clean off your feet in a celebratory spin that left you laughing and breathless. it was just yuji. that's how he had always been.
megumi hated it.
you didn’t notice at first. but the shifts were small. he stopped answering your texts as quickly. he started finding reasons to leave the common room the moment yuji sat too close to you. when the three of you trained together, megumi’s corrections toward you were sharper, colder. you asked him once, late at night with his mouth still on your neck, if something was wrong.
“nothing's wrong,” he’d said, and then he’d fucked you harder than usual, like he was trying to erase the question from your pretty little head.
you stopped asking.
a few days later, you and yuji had just finished a joint mission report. the sun was warm, the sky clear, and yuji—still riding the high of the mission—had pulled you into one of his full-body hugs without warning. you laughed, hugging him back the way you always did, cheek pressed to his shoulder, his arms tight around your waist.
you didn’t see megumi until he spoke.
“are you two done?”
his voice was flat. you stepped back from yuji and turned. megumi stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable except for the tightness at the corners of his mouth.
“megumi—” you started.
he was already walking past you both.
yuji called after him, cheerful as ever, but megumi didn’t answer. you watched the set of his shoulders and felt something cold settle in your stomach.
later that evening you found him in the library, alone at a corner table with a book he clearly wasn’t reading. you sat across from him.
“what’s gotten into you?”
he didn’t look up. “nothing.”
“it’s obviously not nothing."
megumi’s jaw flexed. he turned the page, still refusing to meet your gaze. then he rolled his eyes in annoyance and went back to staring at the new page.
the silence stretched and frustration burned under your skin. you’d spent weeks pretending his distance didn’t bother you, pretending the way he looked at you didn't make you want to crawl inside of yourself.
“fine,” you said, standing. “don’t tell me. i gotta go anyway. i’m going to the movies with yuji and nobara in a bit.”
that was when he spoke.
“of course you are. you’ve never had any problem being all over him.”
you froze.
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
megumi finally lifted his gaze. his eyes were cold in a way that had nothing to do with the usual quiet intensity he carried. “exactly what i said." he paused, then added, softer and somehow worse, “guess you're just easy that way."
his words landed harsh and deep.
you stared at him for a long second, waiting for him to take it back, to say anything that would make it less painful. but he didn’t. he only watched you with that same flat expression, as if daring you to argue.
you left before he could see the tears welling in your eyes.
the movie ended up being soooo good. nobara and yuji spent the entire trip back to jujutsu high talking over each other about the fight choreography, the soundtrack, the ridiculous plot twist towards the end. you sat beside them quietly, phone forgotten in your pocket, replaying megumi’s voice on a loop.
guess you're just easy that way.
nobara glanced over at you, frowning. “hey. you good?”
“yeah.” you forced a small smile. “just tired. didn’t sleep well last night.”
she accepted it, though her eyes lingered a second longer than usual. yuji threw an arm around both of you, warm and solid and completely unaware. you let him, though it didn’t quite feel the same.
by the time you reached your dorm you felt like complete shit. you kicked off your shoes, dropped onto the bed, and put in your earbuds without actually listening to whatever playlist came on. your phone screen glowed uselessly in your hand while megumi’s words continued to replay over and over.
you tried to put them out of your mind. to focus on listening to your favorite song coming through your earbuds, but you couldn't.
you felt the sting behind your eyes once more. like you were about to cry, when there came a knock at your door.
you pulled one earbud free. “come in.”
you figured maybe it was nobara coming to check on you. even though you had managed to get her to back off, you knew deep down she didn't buy the bs excuse you had given.
the door clicked shut and when you looked up, your breath hitched.
megumi stood just in front of the door, his black hair messier than usual, like he had just spent hours raking his fingers through. for a moment neither of you spoke. then he exhaled, and the careful mask he always wore cracked.
"i'm sorry," his voice was low, and rough around the edges. “i didn’t mean it. not the way it came out. not any of it.” he dragged a hand through his hair again, restless, fingers catching and tugging. the motion left it even messier.
“i know i have no right to be jealous. i know we’re not—” he stopped, jaw flexing hard enough that you saw the muscle jump. a breath left him, controlled but shaky. “that this was never supposed to be anything more than what it is. but seeing you with him…”
his eyes finally lifted to yours. they were darker than usual, vulnerable in a way that made your stomach twist.
“it broke something. i kept telling myself it didn’t matter. that i could keep doing this without wanting more. that what we are is enough. but i was lying.”
your heart was pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat, in the tips of your fingers, in the sudden heat blooming under your skin. you couldn’t look away from him. every careful wall he’d ever kept up between you felt like it was cracking, and the pieces of it were landing right in the center of your chest.
megumi’s gaze didn’t waver. “i want you to be mine,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. "i’ve wanted it for a long time—longer than i let myself admit. i just… didn’t know how to say it without ruining everything. without scaring you off."
the confession hung heavy between you.
you had wanted him too. had wanted the nights that didn’t end with him slipping out before dawn, the quiet sound of the door clicking shut while you stared at the ceiling and pretended it didn’t hurt. you had convinced yourself that he would never want the same things.
your breathing had gone shallow. you could hear it, soft and uneven, in the small space of the room.
megumi took a step closer, then another, until he was standing at the edge of your bed. the mattress dipped faintly when his knee brushed the frame. up close you could see the tension in his throat when he swallowed, the way his hands flexed once at his sides like he didn’t trust himself to reach for you yet.
“i’m sorry,” he said again, softer this time. the words carried the weight of everything he’d held back. “please. forgive me.”
you didn’t answer with words.
you surged up from the mattress, fisted a hand in the front of his sweater—feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric—and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. his breath hitched against your mouth, a low, broken sound that vibrated through both of you.
for half a second he froze, as if the reality of it still hadn’t caught up with him yet. then his hands found your waist, fingers pressing in hard enough to bruise, and he kissed you back like you were the air he needed to breathe.
his hands were everywhere at once—tangling in your hair, sliding down your back, gripping your hips hard enough to leave faint marks. you yanked his shirt up and over his head in one impatient motion; he barely gave you time to drop it before he was dragging yours off with the same urgency, knuckles brushing the undersides of your breasts as the offending clothing came off. shoes kicked away, pants shoved down and kicked off, underwear following in a clumsy, desperate scramble until there was nothing left between you but skin.
he guided you down onto the mattress, the sheets cool against your back for only a second before the solid weight of him settled over you. he braced himself on his forearms, caging you in, and the blunt head of his cock nudged against your entrance.
the first slow push inside you dragged a shared groan from both of your throats. you were already wet for him—had been since the moment he said he wanted you to be his—and the stretch of him filling you inch by inch made your head tip back against the pillow.
megumi rolled his hips in deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in to the hilt, making sure you felt every inch of him, every drag and press against the sensitive places inside you.
the pace was devastating. each thrust was slow enough that you could feel the ridge of him sliding along your walls, the way your body clenched around him on every withdrawal.
“megumi—” his name left you on a shaky moan, breath catching when he bottomed out again. “you feel so good. fuck—so good.”
a low, answering sound rumbled in his chest. he dipped his head, mouth brushing yours as he spoke, voice rough and frayed at the edges.
“you feel so good,” he murmured, echoing you. “so fucking perfect.” another slow, deep thrust that punched a soft cry from your throat. “beautiful, too. you’re so beautiful like this—taking me so well.”
"oh god! nngg—"
his forehead dropped to yours, eyes half-lidded and dark, the intensity in them almost too much to hold. the next words came quieter, spoken between the roll of his hips.
“i want to wake up to you in the mornings. i want to hold your hand where everyone can see. i want to kiss you whenever i want—without having to pretend it doesn’t mean anything.”
your hands slid up the flexing muscles of his back, nails biting lightly into his skin as another moan of his name slipped out of you. “i want that too,” you whispered, the words broken by the steady, deep rhythm of him moving inside you. “all of it—megumi, please—”
something in his expression fractured at the sound of his name on your tongue. he reached between your bodies without breaking the pace, the pad of his thumb finding your clit with unerring precision. he rubbed tight, focused circles over the swollen bud in perfect time with the deep roll of his hips, pressure firm and relentless.
“cum for me, pretty girl,” he commanded, low and certain, eyes locked on yours. “let me feel it. want to feel you cum around me.”
your orgasm hit hard, crashing through you in a sudden, overwhelming wave.
you clenched around him with a broken moan of his name — high and wrecked—thighs trembling against his hips as the pleasure washed through you. megumi’s rhythm faltered only for a second before he followed, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat as he buried himself as deep as he could go and came inside you. you felt every hot pulse of him, the way his cock throbbed as he spilled into you, hips stuttering through the last few shallow thrusts until he was spent.
for a long moment the only sound in the room was the two of you trying to catch your breath. megumi stayed braced over you, still buried deep, the weight of him grounding you back to the present. his eyes searched yours, something raw and almost cautious flickering behind the usual calm.
“so… does this mean you’re mine?” his voice was quiet, and raspy.
a breathless giggle escaped you. you reached up, gently brushed a damp strand of hair from his forehead, and answered without hesitation.
a/n~ thank u to the brilliant anons and comments who wanted me to continue the verse but with the other frat guys!! introducing the gojo verse 😉 enjoy!!
the party is already loud by the time they get there, bass thudding through the walls so hard the apartment feels like it’s shaking. choso stays close to his girlfriend, hand hovering at the small of her back and she keeps smiling at him, soft and reassuring like she always does, and it settles him a little. she’s throwing a party to celebrate end of midterms, something “lowkey”, but it very quickly spun into fifty people crammed into her apartment.
gojo, on the other hand, is already plotting. “i’m telling you,” he says, leaning back against the kitchen counter like he owns the place, hand holding a red solo cup. “tonight is light work. i could walk into any room here and leave with, dunno, minimum three numbers.”
“i’m pacing myself,” gojo shoots back, grinning. “quality over quantity.”
“you just said three.”
“three quality numbers.”
choso’s girlfriend rolls her eyes with a smile. “you’re insufferable.”
“i’m charming,” gojo corrects, already scanning the room, gaze flicking from group to group like he’s window shopping. “there’s a difference.”
that’s when she spots you.
her whole face lights up and she slips out of choso’s arms, weaving through people until she reaches you, and suddenly you’re both laughing about something, arms looping together.
“guys,” she calls, tugging you along, “this is my best friend, y/n.”
you step into the circle, smiling carefully. “hey, guys. hi, choso."
choso gives you a shy nod. “hi, y/n.”
geto smiles, polite but curious. toji barely acknowledges you, already halfway to the drinks.
gojo doesn’t look at you at all.
he’s too busy craning his neck over your shoulder, eyes darting past you like you’re just another body in the way. “minimum three numbers,” he repeats without looking, patting geto on the shoulder. “suguru. i’m seeing options.”
your mouth twitches. “wow,” you say, dry as dust, “don’t all look at me at once.”
gojo finally blinks and slowly he drags his gaze down to you, and his tongue feels thick in his mouth because shit.
you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.
shit, and you're standing right in front of him.
there’s a beat. “huh.”
you raise a brow. “riveting response.”
geto’s mouth quirks. choso’s girlfriend looks between you two like she just lit a match and tossed it into dry grass, and she facepalms.
gojo straightens, like he’s recalibrating mid-conversation, suddenly he's aware he’s been talking at full volume about “quality numbers” in front of you.
“sorry,” he says, recovering fast, flashing that easy grin. “didn’t realize i was being introduced to—”
to someone who looked this good, he wants to say. someone like you.
“someone with ears?” you cut in.
gojo’s mind backtracks for a split second before grin sharpens. “—someone this rude.”
“only rude when i’m annoyed.”
“so all the time?”
“only when people earn it.”
they stare at each other for half a second too long, something sparking, quick and bright and a little dangerous. choso’s girlfriend claps her hands once awkwardly. “okay, perfect, you two can fight later. y/n, drink?”
you nod, letting her pull you toward the kitchen again.
gojo stands there, a little awe-struck. he stares at the space you just occupied, mind still catching up to the present.
geto leans in, voice low. “three quality numbers, huh?”
gojo doesn’t answer. he’s still staring at where you disappeared into the crowd, like if he looks hard enough he can rewind the last thirty seconds and not sound like an idiot.
“…shut up,” he mutters finally, scrubbing a hand over his face.
your friend pours you a drink with a smirk. "so? thoughts?"
"the white-haired one's an asshole," you grumble.
she laughs immediately, bumping her shoulder into yours as she slides a drink across the counter. “gojo? he is, but like…a manageable one. he's actually really sweet. you get used to it.”
“i don’t plan to.”
“mm.” she hums into her cup, watching you over the rim like she knows something you don’t. “we’ll see.”
you take a sip, eyes flicking back out into the living room. unfortunately, the pest is already looking.
gojo doesn’t even pretend to be subtle about it. he’s half-turned toward the kitchen now, cup dangling forgotten in his hand, gaze locked on you and his lips twist into a small smile.
you narrow your eyes slightly.
he straightens instantly, looks away fast. suspiciously fast. for a guy who just spent ten minutes talking like he’s god’s gift to women, he suddenly looks like he’s been caught committing a crime.
you watch him for another second, unimpressed, then turn back to your drink.
“you’re staring,” your friend sing-songs under her breath.
“i’m not.”
“you literally are.”
“i’m observing,” you correct, taking another sip. “like a case study. frat boy in his natural habitat.”
she snorts. “and what have we learned so far?”
you glance over again, just in time to catch gojo pretending to be deeply invested in a conversation with geto, nodding way too seriously at something that definitely isn’t that interesting.
“he’s a fraud,” you say simply.
“ouch.”
“did you hear him? ‘three quality numbers’?” you mimic, lowering your voice into a lazy drawl. “who says that out loud, for fuck's sake."
"well, he didn't think you were listening."
“that’s the problem. he doesn’t think.”
as if summoned by your words gojo looks over again. this time when your eyes meet he freezes for half a beat before he forces himself to walk over, running a hand through his hair.
you sigh quietly. “here we go.”
he stops a step too close, like he misjudged the distance, then leans back awkwardly to compensate. “hey.”
you blink at him. “hi.”
there’s a long, long pause.
toji and geto watch from across the room, snickering.
gojo clears his throat. “so. uh.” he gestures vaguely between you and choso's girlfriend. “you’re… her friend.”
“incredible deduction,” you say flatly. “did you major in that or is it natural talent?”
your friend elbows you lightly. "y/n."
his mouth opens, then closes, before his grin flickers back, a little less steady this time. “you’re mean.”
“you’re observant,” you shoot back.
he shifts his weight. “so what’s your deal?”
you tilt your head. “my deal.”
“yeah, like—” he waves a hand, searching for words that don’t immediately make him sound stupid. “what you’re about.”
“i’m about not giving my number to guys who treat parties like a shopping spree.”
gojo’s ears go a little pink. “that’s— okay. that’s not—”
"oh, it's not?" you tilt your head, stare unimpressed. "cause swear that's what you were yelling about five minutes ago."
“…okay,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to rebuild a sentence from scattered lego pieces. “in my defense, i was not yelling at you specifically.”
you blink. “that’s worse.”
“no, wait—”
“you were yelling at the concept of women in general?”
“no,” he says faster, then winces at how that sounds. “i'm not like that."
you tilt your head slightly. “you introduced yourself like that.”
gojo opens his mouth, and nothing comes out. he closes again.
since when am i at a loss of words?
"you're very articulate," you say, taking a sip of your drink, severely unimpressed.
“i’m usually more articulate,” he says, and immediately hates how that sounds.
you give him that same, blank stare. "sure," you say, flat.
there’s a beat where his brain tries to catch up to his mouth, but they’ve clearly stopped coordinating. he tries again. “i just mean—i don’t usually—i’m not like...stuck on words.”
“you seem pretty stuck now.”
gojo exhales through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair again. you're still looking at him like that - all unimpressed and unfazed. like you don't care that he's satoru gojo.
it's a new feeling, and humiliatingly effective.
because you’re still looking at him like that.
“you’re just...you’re really hard to talk to.”
your expression doesn’t change, but something in your eyes sharpens. “that’s a you problem,” you say simply.
silence again.
he’s not used to silence like this. usually there’s someone filling it for him. laughing, reacting, leaning in. you just stand there, existing,
it makes him feel weirdly off-axis.
from somewhere behind you, a guy calls your name. “y/n! you coming to play?” the guy asks, nodding toward the living room where people are setting up some drinking game.
you glance at him, then back at your friend, who's curled up against choso's arm. “yeah,” you say, already stepping away from gojo like the conversation has naturally ended. “i’ll come.”
just like that, you're gone into the crowd. no look back at him.
“wait,” gojo says, too fast.
you pause briefly, look at him over your shoulder. “what?”
he opens his mouth and nothing comes out again.
for once, there’s no punchline ready. no smooth recovery. no stupid confidence parachute.
just him stupidly blanking. “uh,” he manages finally, then clears his throat, tries again. “nothing.”
you give a small shrug like he’s already been filed away as unimportant, and turn back to follow the group.
gojo stands there, arms limp at his sides.
geto strolls up beside him, sipping his drink. “that went well.”
“shut up,” gojo says automatically, but it’s weak.
geto glances toward the living room where you’ve already disappeared into the crowd. “she’s too pretty for you.”
"shut up," he repeats.
the rest of the party feels like slow motion. the music's still loud, people are still chattering, but his attention keeps snagging back in one direction.
you.
he keeps catching flashes of you between bodies. your laugh when someone says something stupid. the way you lean in when you talk, like you actually mean your words. the way you fix your hair, or how your tongue darts over your lips.
it’s irritating.
it’s worse than irritating.
it’s distracting.
a girl slides up to him sometime later, glittery eyes, thick fake lashes and a practiced tilt of the head. “hey,” she says, hand brushing his arm like it belongs there. “you’re gojo, right?”
“yeah,” he says automatically, still looking past her shoulder.
she leans in a little. “i’ve seen you around campus. you’re kind of hard to miss.”
“uh-huh,” he replies, eyes flicking again.
she laughs softly, clearly taking that as encouragement. “you wanna get out of here? it’s kinda loud in here.”
“maybe,” he says.
she blinks. “or we could just go now.”
“yeah, maybe.” he doesn’t mean to sound bored but you just walked past the kitchen again and someone said your name and you smiled and it did something annoying to his brain.
the girl follows his gaze this time, sees you. then looks back at him, slower now. “oh,” she says.
gojo doesn’t notice the change in her tone, he’s still half watching you across the room like he’s trying to figure out what you’re doing and why it looks like that matters. what guy you're talking to. who's making you smile like that.
“so that’s what this is,” she adds, voice flattening.
he finally looks at her properly. “what’s what?”
she lets out a small, offended laugh. “never mind.” then she scoffs, sharp and unimpressed, and turns on her heel. “weird,” she mutters as she walks off.
gojo stares after her for a second, confused, then immediately looks back for you again.
“dude,” toji calls from the kitchen counter, watching the whole thing like it’s entertainment. “what happened to three numbers? that chick was into you.”
“i didn’t—” gojo starts, “she wasn’t—”
“interested?” geto finishes lightly, leaning against the counter beside toji. “she was, until you spent the entire time ogling y/n like there was no other person in this room.”
gojo tries to laugh it off, but it comes out distracted, thin. his eyes flick again, instinctively, toward the living room, where you were moments ago, but you're gone now.
where'd she go?
his chest tightens with something he doesn’t name.
“you were staring at her like a lost dog,” geto adds, amused.
gojo finally tears his eyes away like it physically costs him something. “i wasn't staring.”
a beat.
toji just hums. “mm.”
"where's choso?" gojo says, rubbing a hand down the back of his neck. "haven't seen that guy for most of tonight."
"eh, i saw him talking to his girlfriend on the balcony a bit ago," toji says, pointing to the sliding back door.
"cool, cool," gojo mutters, pushing his way through the crowd to the back, where choso and his girlfriend are indeed standing, talking to a few guests. (well, choso's standing behind her, holding her hand, and she's animatedly chatting to the group).
she spots gojo and waves. “hey,” she says brightly. "what's up?"
“hey,” gojo replies, slower than usual.
choso glances up. “you good?”
gojo hesitates. “yeah. where’s y/n?”
choso's girlfriend blinks. "oh. she left, like, two minutes ago."
something in gojo’s expression shifts before he can stop it. “left?” he repeats.
“yeah,” she says, oblivious to the way his tone changed. “said she was tired. she had work early tomorrow or something.”
he looks past them again, instinctively, like maybe she’ll still be there if he just checks harder.
choso watches him for a second. “you didn’t notice?”
gojo scoffs lightly, too quick. “i noticed. i just thought she might've been talking to you guys, or something.”
choso shakes his head. "sorry."
gojo's head rushes. how could you leave without him talking to you more? he hand't even gotten your number. he didn't know anything about you.
"fuck," he grumbles, rolling his head back.
your friend stares at him, small smirk playing on her lips. "i'll tell her you're deeply concerned about where she's gone."
"no!" gojo says quickly. "i mean, erm. no, it's chill. i'll see her around."
she hums under her breath as gojo walks away, slumped in defeat.
"gone?" geto asks from inside.
"gone," gojo confirms, slumping back against an empty chair. "i'm so fucked."
"if it's any consolation, she wasn't into you," toji says, and gojo glares at him.
"that doesn't matter. i fumbled," the white-haired man complains, dropping his hand against the side of the couch.
geto smirks. “you didn’t fumble,” he says calmly. “you tripped, fell down a flight of stairs, and took out the railing on the way.”
toji snorts. “landed face first, too.”
“shut up,” gojo mutters, dragging both hands down his face. “i didn’t even get a chance to recover. she just left.”
“you had, like, an hour,” toji points out.
gojo sits up straighter now, shrugging toji's comment off. "i'll just see her again."
toji snorts. “and do what? give a powerpoint apology?”
“i don’t need a powerpoint,” gojo scoffs. “i’ll just talk to her. properly this time.”
geto’s smile is small, knowing. “and what makes you think she’ll give you that chance?”
gojo pauses then his mouth tilts, something sharper returning, something stubborn. “she will,” he says.
toji huffs. “based on?”
“because she didn’t ignore me,” gojo says slowly. “she could’ve. she didn’t.”
geto watches him, intrigued.
“she stayed,” gojo continues. “she argued. she kept talking. if she actually didn’t care, she would’ve just walked away way earlier.”
toji considers that. “…hm.”
gojo glances up, a little more confident now. “and she looked back.”
“once,” toji says.
“still counts.”
geto lets out a quiet laugh. “you’re building a whole thesis off crumbs.”
“it’s a good thesis,” gojo insists.
“it’s a delusion,” toji says.
“it’s optimism.”
“it’s desperation.”
gojo rolls his eyes. “you guys are so negative.”
he leans back again, arms spreading along the back of the couch, staring out at the party that suddenly feels way less interesting. “i’ll see her again,” he repeats, more to himself this time. "i have to."
toji glances at geto, then back at gojo, smirking. “yeah. you’re cooked.”
gojo doesn’t even argue this time. "i'm not fumbling again."
synopsis. Gojo Satoru spends three weeks writing you a letter — 520 reasons, pipe cleaner flowers, gifts and all the words he couldn't say out loud. A letter about love as something you can hold.
pairing. gojo satoru x f!reader
content & warnings. fluff, emotional vulnerability, established relationship, gojo being dramatic, mild angst, tooth-rotting fluff!!
part. read the fic where this is featured in here!
word count. 9.8k+ (sue me)
A/N. this is the full letter from my "Just Because (I Love You)" fic! i highly suggest reading the fic i linked above for context ♡
I don't know how to start this. I've rewritten this opening seven times. You probably think I'm being dramatic. You'd be right.
But I needed to tell you things I can't say out loud. Things I've been thinking about for months. Things you deserve to hear.
So here it is. All of it. 520 reasons. Three weeks of my life. Countless crumpled papers. Too many nights where I sat at this kitchen table, pen in hand, wondering if I was doing too much or not enough.
I'm still not sure. But I'm doing it anyway.
Because you deserve to know. Because I need you to know. Because if I don't say it — if I don't write it down, if I don't give you something to hold — I'm terrified you'll forget. Terrified you'll wake up one day and realize you could do better. Terrified you'll see me for who I really am and decide I'm not worth the trouble.
I know that's stupid. I know you're not like that. But I'm scared anyway. That's what love does to me, apparently. It makes me scared. It makes me want to be better. It makes me want to give you every piece of myself, even the broken ones, even the ugly ones, even the ones I've been hiding from everyone else.
So I'm giving you this. All of it. The good, the bad, the messy, the ridiculous. 520 reasons why I love you. And if you read all of them — if you actually sit there and read every single one — I'll know you really do love me back.
Because who else would sit through 520 reasons?
Just you. Only you. Always you.
1. I love the way you roll your eyes when I call you "shorty" — but you're still the tallest thing in the room to me. You always have been.
2. I love the way you laugh at your own jokes before you even finish telling them. Like you can't wait to find yourself funny.
3. I love the way you squint at your phone when you're reading something small. You look like a very grumpy kitten and I want to kiss your nose every single time.
4. I love that you found my keys in the refrigerator once and just... accepted it. Like that was normal behavior for me. Like you'd already decided I was worth the chaos.
5. I love the way you say my name when you're tired — slow, soft, like you're drawing out the syllables like a secret. Sa-to-ru. Like it's something you're savoring.
6. I love that you steal my hoodies and then act like you don't know what I'm talking about when I ask where they went. I know where they went. They went to you. That's where I want them.
7. I love the way you hum when you're cooking — off-key, completely unbothered, like you're the only person in the world. I stand in the doorway and listen. You don't even know.
8. I love that you brought back coffee beans from Kyoto and told me they were for "special occasions." I use them every day. They remind me of you.
9. I love that you never let me get away with my bullshit. You call me out, every single time, and I pretend to hate it. I don't hate it. I love that you see through me.
10. I love that you also never make me feel bad for having bullshit in the first place. You just... sit with it. With me.
11. I love the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Like I'm a surprise. Like you still can't quite believe I'm real. I feel the same way about you.
12. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me feel like I'm enough. Not because I'm the strongest. Not because I can save people. Just because I'm me.
13. I love the way you defend me when I'm not there to defend myself. You don't even know I've heard you do it. You tell people I'm not cold. You tell them I'm soft. You're right.
14. I love that you don't flinch when I take off my blindfold. Most people can't even look at me without squinting. But you just... you see me.
15. I love that you see me. The real me. The one I hide from everyone else.
16. I love the way you talk to yourself when you think I'm not listening. Full conversations. Multiple voices. It's unhinged and I adore every second of it.
17. I love that you remember things I told you once, years ago. Things I'd forgotten I'd said. You hold them like they matter.
18. I love the way you bite your lip when you're concentrating. You don't even know you're doing it. I have to physically stop myself from kissing you every time.
19. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me feel like I can just be Satoru. Not Gojo. Not the strongest. Just... me.
20. I love that you look good in the morning. Stupidly good. It's actually unfair to the rest of us.
21. I love the way you steal the last bite of whatever I'm eating and act like you didn't. I always save it for you anyway. You know that. I know you know.
22. I love that you never ask me to be the strongest. You just ask me to be present.
23. I love the way you say "we" instead of "I." Like you've already decided I'm part of your future. I am. I want to be.
24. I love that you make me believe in a future. I didn't use to.
25. I love the way you push your hair back when you're frustrated. Like you're physically trying to push the frustration away.
26. I love that you forgive me. Over and over. Even when I don't deserve it.
27. I love that you stay. Even when I'm difficult. Even when I'm distant. Even when I don't know how to say what I need. You stay.
28. I love the way you say "come here" when all you want is a hug. You don't make me guess. You just tell me. You trust me enough to tell me.
29. I love the way you look at me when I come home. Like you were waiting. Like you always were.
30. I love that you make home feel like a person. Like you.
31. I love that you make me feel safe. Safer than I've ever felt in my entire life.
32. I love that you cry at movies. I love that you try to hide it. I love that you always fail.
33. I love the way you sing in the shower — badly, loudly, without shame. I stand outside the door and listen. You don't know that either.
34. I love that you know every word to every song on the playlist I made you. I made it because I noticed you singing them. I notice everything.
35. I love that you noticed me noticing.
36. I love the way you hold my hand in crowded places. Like you're claiming me. Like I'm yours. I am.
37. I love that you're not afraid to claim me. Most people are. You never have been.
38. I love the way you say "I love you" like it's easy. Like it's just a fact. Like the sky is blue and water is wet and you love me.
39. I love that you also don't say it when you don't mean it. You're honest with me in a way no one else has ever been.
40. I love the way you scrunch your nose when you're confused. It makes me want to kiss it.
41. I love that you make terrible puns and then act like they're genius. They're not. I love them anyway.
42. I love the way you defend strangers. People you don't even know. You can't stand injustice. It's the most beautiful thing about you.
43. I love that you fight for people who can't fight for themselves.
44. I love the way you look at me when I'm being vulnerable. Like it's not weakness. Like it's strength.
45. I love that you make me brave. You don't even know you do it.
46. I love the way you reach for me in your sleep. Even unconscious, you want me close.
47. I love the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn't paying attention. Like I was already enough. Just me.
48. I love that you let me hold you. That you trust me with your body. Your heart. Your everything.
49. I love the way you talk about your dreams like they're real. You make me believe they are.
50. I love that you include me in those dreams. Like you can't imagine a version without me. I can't imagine one without you either.
51. I love the way you make everyday things feel special. Grocery shopping. Folding laundry. Sitting in silence.
52. I love that you never take me for granted. Even when I'm being impossible.
53. I love the way you say my name when you're happy.
54. I love the way you say my name when you're mad.
55. I love the way you say my name like it means something. It does. You make it mean something.
56. I love that you text me good morning. Every single day. Without fail.
57. I love that you text me good night. Even when we're in the same room.
58. I love that you text me random things in between. Pictures of dogs. Complaints about your day. Things that made you think of me.
59. I keep all of them.
60. I love the way you eat your favorite food like it's the first time you've ever had it. Like you're discovering joy all over again.
61. I love that you share it with me anyway. Even when you want to hoard it.
62. I love that you never make me feel like I'm competing with anyone. You make me feel like I've already won.
63. I love the way you smile in your sleep. I wonder what you're dreaming about. I hope it's me.
64. I love that you don't try to fix me. You just... stay. In the dark with me.
65. I love that you're not afraid of my darkness. You sit in it. You hold my hand through it.
66. I love that you make me believe I deserve good things. Because you're a good thing. And you chose me.
67. I love the way you kiss my forehead. Like it's the most natural thing in the world.
68. I love that you don't judge me for needing reassurance. You give it freely. Without me having to ask.
69. I love that you make me feel seen. Not just looked at. Seen.
70. I love that you know me better than anyone. And you love me anyway. Because of it.
71. I love the way you whisper things to me in the dark. Things you wouldn't say in the light. I hold them close. I keep them safe.
72. I love that you trust me with those things.
73. I love that you trust me. Completely. Impossibly.
74. I love the way you tell me when I'm wrong. But you say it gently. Like you're protecting me from myself.
75. I love that you don't punish me for making mistakes. You help me fix them.
76. I love that you stand beside me. Not behind me. Not in front of me. Beside me.
77. I love the way you look at me from across the room. Like I'm the only person in it.
78. I love the way you saved the last bite for me. You think I don't notice. I notice everything.
79. I love that you make me feel like the center of your world. You probably don't even know you do it.
80. I love the way you laugh at yourself when you mess up. You don't take yourself too seriously. But you take us seriously.
81. I love that you take me seriously.
82. I love the way you smile when you see me after a long day. Like I'm the best part of it. You are the best part of mine.
83. I love the way you make sure I eat. The way you make sure I sleep. The way you make sure I'm okay. Even when I say I'm fine. Especially when I say I'm fine.
84. I love that you know me better than I know myself.
85. I love the way you stand up for people who can't stand up for themselves. Your strength isn't physical. It's everything.
86. I love your kindness. Your patience. Your generosity. The way you give without expecting anything back.
87. I love the way you love without conditions. The way you love me without conditions.
88. I love the way you laugh when you're trying not to cry. The way you cry when you need to. You don't hide from me.
89. I love the way you laugh when I do something stupid on purpose. It's like you're the only person who gets that I'm not actually an idiot. (Most of the time.)
90. I love that you feel everything deeply. And you let me feel it with you.
91. I love the way you talk about the future. The way you talk about our future. Like it's obvious.
92. I love that you can't imagine a version without me.
93. I love the way you call me first when you get good news. I'm the first person you think of. You're the first person I think of.
94. I love that you reach for me. Even when I'm unreachable. Even when I feel like I am.
95. I love that you stay. You always stay.
96. I love the way you say "I'm proud of you" like you mean it. You make me believe it.
97. I love the way you look at me when I talk about something I love. Like it's the most interesting thing you've ever heard.
98. I love that you pretend to listen to things you don't care about. But then you remember the details. You always remember.
99. I love the way you think about me when I'm not there. The way I think about you when you're not there.
100. I love the way you fill the space when you're there. The way you fill it when you're not. You're everywhere. In everything.
101. I love that you are the first thing I think about when I wake up. The last thing before I sleep. You're in my dreams. You're in my reality.
102. I love that you are my reality.
103. I love the way you make everything better just by existing. You don't even know you do it.
104. I love the way you blush when I compliment you. The way you try to hide it. The way you fail.
105. I love that you are so beautiful and you don't even see it. You are the most beautiful person I know. Inside and out.
106. I love the way you light up a room. The way you light up my life.
107. I love that you changed everything. The way you changed me. The way you made me want to change.
108. I love the way you made me want to live. Really live. Not just survive.
109. I love that you taught me what it meant to be alive.
110. I love the way you make me feel like everything is possible. Like I can do anything. Because you believe in me. Because you believe in us.
111. I love that you keep believing. Even when I give you reasons not to.
112. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me nervous. (I already said this. I'm saying it again because it's still true and I'm still terrified.)
113. I love the way you forgive me. The way you love me through my mistakes. The way you hold me through them.
114. I love that you never give up on me. Even when I give up on myself. You always find me. You always bring me back.
115. I love the way you make me feel worthy. Worthy of love. Worthy of you.
116. I love the way you look at me and I see forever. The way I look at you and I feel forever.
117. I love that you make me believe in forever. Because with you, forever doesn't seem long enough.
118. I love the way you say "we have time." The way you mean it. The way you make me believe it.
119. I love the way you make me feel like we have all the time in the world. Even when we don't. Even when time is the one thing we're not guaranteed.
120. I love that you make every second count.
121. I love the way you make ordinary days feel extraordinary. Like everything is a memory I'll look back on and smile.
122. I love the way you make me smile. Even when I don't want to. Even when I can't.
123. I love that you make me laugh. You make me feel. You make me feel everything.
124. I love the way you let me feel it with you. The way you don't run from it. The way you sit in it with me.
125. I love the way you hold my hand through it.
126. I love that you are my safe place. My home. My everything.
127. I love the way you say my name like you're praying. The way you touch me like I'm holy. The way you kiss me like I'm precious.
128. I love that you make me feel irreplaceable. Like I'm the only person in the world. Even when the world is full of people.
129. I love the way you look at me like I'm the only one. And I feel like the only one.
130. I love the way you make me feel chosen. Chosen by you. Chosen to be loved by you. Chosen to be yours.
131. I love that you make me feel like the luckiest person alive. Because I am.
132. I love the way you love me back. The way you love me fully. Completely. Unconditionally.
133. I love the way you love me like it's easy. Even when it's hard. Even when I'm hard.
134. I love the way you love me through the hard parts. The way you stay through them.
135. I love the way you choose me. Over and over. Every single day. You choose me. And I choose you. Every time.
136. I love the way you make me feel like I'm not too much. Like I'm exactly enough. Exactly what you need. Exactly what you want.
137. I love the way you make me feel wanted. Desired. Loved.
138. I love the way you make me feel like I'm everything. Like I'm home.
139. I love that you are my home. My peace. My chaos. My everything in between. My all.
140. I love that you are my reason. My reason to wake up. My reason to keep going. My reason to try. My reason to be better. My reason to be happy. My reason to live.
141. I love that you are my reason. Everything.
142. I love the way you make me believe in love. Real love. Forever love. The kind that doesn't end. The kind that lasts. The kind I didn't believe in before you.
143. I love that you make me believe in us.
144. I love the way you make the world feel softer. The way you make my heart feel fuller. The way you make my life feel brighter.
145. I love the way you make me feel alive. Human. Everything.
146. I love the way you make me feel seen. Heard. Understood.
147. I love the way you understand me. The way you know me. The way you love me. For who I am. For who I'm not. For who I'm trying to be.
148. I love the way you see all of me. The good. The bad. The ugly. And you still stay. You still love me.
149. I love the way you love me through everything. Through the darkness. Through the light. Through the in-between.
150. I love the way you pretend to hate my singing but request songs in the car. Your cheeks go pink when I catch you mouthing the words.
151. I love that you are constant. Steady. Mine.
152. I love that I am yours. The way that feels right. The way that feels like destiny. The way that feels like we were always meant to find each other.
153. I love the way that feels like you were made for me. The way that feels like I was made for you. Because I think I was. I think I was always meant to love you.
154. I love that I was always meant to find you. Always meant to be yours. And you were always meant to be mine.
155. I love the way that feels inevitable. Like fate. Like forever. Because with you, I believe in forever. I believe in all of it. Because of you.
156. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me feel small. Not in a bad way. In the way that makes me want to be bigger for you.
157. I love the way you make me brave enough to believe. Brave enough to hope. Brave enough to love. Brave enough to let myself be loved.
158. I love the way you make me feel safe enough to be loved. Safe enough to be me. Completely me. Messy me. Broken me. Healing me.
159. I love the me that I am now. The me I want to be. The me you help me become.
160. I love the way you help me grow. The way you help me heal. The way you help me love. Love myself. Love you. Love us. Love everything we are.
161. I love the way you make me excited for the future. For tomorrow. For every single day. Because every day with you is a gift.
162. I love that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The best thing that ever will happen to me.
163. I love that you are everything I ever wanted. Everything I didn't know I needed. Everything I didn't know I was looking for.
164. I love that you found me anyway. Chose me anyway. Loved me anyway.
165. I love the way you love me anyway. The way you love me always. The way you love me forever.
166. I love the way I love you. With everything I have. With everything I am. With everything I could be.
167. I love the way I love you more every day. More every moment. More every breath.
168. I love the way I can't stop loving you. The way I don't want to. The way I want to love you for the rest of my life. And then some.
169. I love the way I want to love you in every life. Every version. Every universe. Every timeline. I would find you. I would choose you. I would love you. Every single time.
170. I love the way I would cross universes for you. Tear down worlds for you. Do anything for you. Anything. Everything.
171. I love the way you make me feel like it's all worth it. All of it. Every struggle. Every fight. Every hard day. Every long night. All of it was worth it. Because it led me to you.
172. I love the way you make me believe in everything.
173. I love the way you make me believe in love.
174. I love the way you make me believe in us.
175. I love the way you make me believe in me.
176. I love the way you laugh at my bad jokes. The way you pretend they're good. The way you make me feel like I'm funny.
177. I love that you steal the blankets. I love that you don't apologize. I love that you look so peaceful I can't bring myself to steal them back.
178. I love the way you make coffee in the morning. The way you bring me a cup without asking. The way you remember how I take it even though I change my mind every week.
179. I love that you talk to plants. I love that you think I don't notice. I love that you water them and whisper encouragements like they're children.
180. I love the way you stretch in the morning. Like a cat. Slow and satisfied. Like you're happy to be alive.
181. I love that you make me happy to be alive.
182. I love the way you check on me when I'm quiet. The way you know something's wrong before I do. The way you sit with me until I'm ready to talk.
183. I love that you don't push. You wait. You're patient with me in a way I've never been patient with myself.
184. I love the way you defend me to other people. The way you correct them when they say I'm cold or distant. The way you tell them I'm not like that with you.
185. I love that you're right. I'm not like that with you.
186. I love the way you make me want to be softer. Gentler. Kinder. Not because you ask me to. Because you deserve it.
187. I love the way you say my name when you're asleep. Like you're dreaming of me.
188. I love that you dream of me.
189. I love the way you look at me when you think I've forgotten something. Like you're reminding me without words. I haven't forgotten. I never forget. Not when it comes to you.
190. I love the way you get excited about small things. A good cup of coffee. A sunny day. A song you haven't heard in years. You find joy everywhere. You bring it into my life.
191. I love that you brought color into my gray world. That you brought me back to life.
192. I love the way you hold my hand when you're scared. Even when you're scared, you hold onto me. You let me be your safe place. That means everything.
193. I love the way you trust me to be your safe place.
194. I love the way you kiss me. Slow. Soft. Like we have all the time in the world. Like nothing else matters.
195. I love the way you touch me. Like you're memorizing me. Like you're trying to put me back together.
196. I love the way you look at me when I'm sad. Like you'd do anything to take it away.
197. I love that you'd do anything to take it away. And I'd do the same for you.
198. I love the way you hold me when I'm breaking. The way you don't try to fix it. The way you just hold on.
199. I love that you let me be weak with you. That you don't expect me to be strong all the time.
200. I love that you see my weakness and you don't flinch.
201. I love the way you trace the scar on my hip. The one I never told you about. The one you kissed without asking for the story.
202. I love that you didn't ask. That you just accepted it. Accepted me.
203. I love that you don't flinch when I take off my blindfold. Most people can't even look at me without squinting, but you just — you see me. Even when I'm not trying to be seen.
204. I love that you see me. Even when I'm not trying to be seen.
205. I love the way you looked at me that Tuesday morning. Making coffee. Humming off-key. And I stood in the doorway and thought: oh.
206. I love that oh changed everything.
207. I love that you didn't even know it happened.
208. I love that I'll never forget it.
209. I love the way you make the world feel smaller and safer just by existing in it.
210. I love that you exist.
211. I love that you exist in my world.
212. I love that you exist for me.
213. I love that you get me.
214. I love that you get me in a way no one else ever has.
215. I love that you get me and you still stay.
216. I love that you get me and you still love me.
217. I love the way you squinted at your phone that one time. When you were reading something that made you smile. You didn't know I was watching.
218. I was always watching.
219. I love the way you forgot your keys and found them in the refrigerator. Like your brain was too full of other things to remember where you put them. Like you were thinking about me.
220. I love that you were probably thinking about me.
221. I love the way you said my name when you were tired. Drawing out the syllables like a secret. Sa-to-ru. Like I was something precious.
222. I love that you made my name sound like a secret.
223. I love that you made my name sound like a home.
224. I love that you made my name sound like something worth saying.
225. I love the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn't paying attention. Like I didn't need to perform or dazzle or be the strongest sorcerer alive.
226. I love that you made me feel like I was already enough.
227. I love that you made me feel like regular Satoru was enough.
228. I love that you made me feel like regular Satoru was worth loving.
229. I love that you were right.
230. I love that you're always right.
231. I love the way you don't let me get away with my bullshit. You see through me. Every time. And you call me out. And I pretend to hate it.
232. I love that I don't actually hate it.
233. I love that I love it.
234. I love that I love you.
235. I love the way you save the last bite for me. You think I don't notice. I notice everything.
236. I love that you share your food with me. Even when you want to hoard it. Even when you're hungry. Even when you don't have to.
237. I love that you're generous with me.
238. I love that you're generous with everyone.
239. I love your kindness. The way you defend strangers. The way you fight for people who can't fight for themselves.
240. I love your stubbornness. The way you refuse to let me pay for everything even though I could buy the building. The way you insist on being equal.
241. I love that you're equal to me. In every way that matters.
242. I love the way you bit your lip when you were concentrating. Writing something. Reading something. Thinking about something. You didn't know I was watching.
243. I was always watching.
244. I love the way you pushed your hair back when you were frustrated. Like you were trying to push the frustration away. Like you were trying to be patient with yourself.
245. I love that you're patient with yourself. Even when you don't think you are.
246. I love that you're patient with me.
247. I love that you're patient with me in a way I've never been patient with myself.
248. I love the way you made me want to be better. Not for the world. Not for the mission. For you.
249. I love that you made me want to be better.
250. I love that you made me believe I could be better.
251. I love that you made me believe I deserved to be better.
252. I love the way you looked at me when I told you about the scar on my hip. The one I never told anyone about. The one you kissed without asking for the story.
253. I love that you didn't ask for the story.
254. I love that you just accepted it. Accepted me.
255. I love that you accepted all of me.
256. I love the way you made me feel like I didn't have to explain myself to you. Like you already understood.
257. I love that you already understood.
258. I love that you always understand.
259. I love the way you make me feel safe. Safer than I've ever felt in my entire life.
260. I love that you make me feel like I'm not alone.
261. I love that you make me feel like I'm not alone even when I am.
262. I love that you make me feel like I'm not alone even when I feel like I am.
263. I love the way you reach for me. Even when I'm unreachable. Even when I feel like I am.
264. I love that you always reach for me.
265. I love that you always find me.
266. I love that you always bring me back.
267. I love the way you stay. Even when I'm difficult. Even when I'm distant. Even when I don't know how to say what I need.
268. I love that you stay.
269. I love that you always stay.
270. I love the way you make me feel like I'm worth staying for.
271. I love that you make me feel like I'm worth staying for.
272. I love that you make me feel like I'm worth fighting for.
273. I love that you make me feel like I'm worth loving.
274. I love the way you look at me like I'm not just the strongest.
275. I love that you stay. Even when I'm difficult. Even when I'm distant. Even when I don't know how to say what I need. You stay.
276. I love that you look at me like I'm just Satoru.
277. I love that you look at me like I'm just Satoru and that's enough.
278. I love that you look at me like I'm just Satoru and that's everything.
279. I love the way you make me believe I might be enough.
280. I love that you make me believe I might be enough.
281. I love that you make me believe I am enough.
282. I love that you make me believe I am everything.
283. I love the way you make me feel like I'm the only person in the world. Even when the world is full of people.
284. I love that you make me feel chosen.
285. I love that you make me feel chosen by you.
286. I love that you make me feel chosen to be loved by you.
287. I love that you make me feel chosen to be yours.
288. I love that you're the only person who's ever beaten me at rock-paper-scissors.
289. I love that you're the only person who's ever beaten me at rock-paper-scissors. I let you win, obviously, but still. It counts. (I sulked for an hour after. Don't tell anyone.)
290. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me want to lose.
291. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me want to give up control.
292. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me want to trust.
293. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me want to let go.
294. I love the way you make me feel like I can let go.
295. I love the way you make me feel like I can be soft.
296. I love the way you make me feel like I can be weak.
297. I love the way you make me feel like I can be human.
298. I love that you make me feel human.
299. I love that you make me feel alive.
300. I love that you're here. That you choose to be here. Every day, you choose this. Choose me. I don't know why. I'm not going to ask. I'm just going to keep being grateful.
301. I love that you choose me.
302. I love that you choose me every day.
303. I love that you choose me even when I don't choose myself.
304. I love that you choose me even when I don't deserve it.
305. I love that you choose me even when I forget how to choose myself.
306. I love that you remind me.
307. I love that you always remind me.
308. I love that you're here. Right here. In my life. In my heart. In my everything.
309. I love that you're here and you're not going anywhere.
310. I love that you're here and you're mine.
311. I love that you're mine.
312. I love that I'm yours.
313. I love that we're each other's.
314. I love the way you make me feel like we're each other's.
315. I love the way you make me feel like we belong to each other.
316. I love the way you make me feel like we belong together.
317. I love the way you make me feel like we belong.
318. I love the way you make me feel like I belong.
319. I love the way you make me feel like I belong somewhere.
320. I love the way you make me feel like I belong with you.
321. I love the way you make me feel like I belong in your life.
322. I love the way you make me feel like I belong in your heart.
323. I love the way you make me feel like I belong in your future.
324. I love the way you make me feel like I belong in your forever.
325. I love that you make me believe in forever.
326. I love that you make me believe in us.
327. I love that you make me believe in love.
328. I love that you make me believe in everything.
329. I love that you make me believe in me.
330. I love that you were the first person who saw me cry and didn't look away. You held me. You stayed. You loved me anyway.
331. I love that you make me believe.
332. I love the way you make me feel like I can do anything.
333. I love the way you make me feel like I can be anything.
334. I love the way you make me feel like I can have everything.
335. I love the way you make me feel like I can have you.
336. I love that I have you.
337. I love that I have you and I'm never letting go.
338. I love that I have you and I'm never going to stop loving you.
339. I love that I have you and I'm never going to stop showing you.
340. I love that I have you and I'm never going to stop telling you.
341. I love that I have you and I'm never going to stop.
342. I love the way you look at me when I come home. Like you were waiting. Like you always were.
343. I love that you're always waiting for me.
344. I love that you're always there for me.
345. I love that you're always mine.
346. I love that I'm always yours.
347. I love the way you make me feel like home.
348. I love the way you make me feel like I'm home.
349. I love the way you make me feel like I'm home with you.
350. I love the way you make me feel like you're home.
351. I love the way you make me feel like you're my home.
352. I love the way you make me feel like we're home.
353. I love the way you make me feel like we're each other's home.
354. I love the way you make me feel like I'm safe.
355. I love the way you make me feel like I'm protected.
356. I love the way you make me feel like I'm loved.
357. I love the way you make me feel loved.
358. I love the way you love me.
359. I love the way you love me like it's easy.
360. I love the way you love me like it's natural.
361. I love the way you love me like it's the most natural thing in the world.
362. I love that you're the only person who's ever seen me cry.
363. I love that you saw me cry and didn't look away.
364. I love that you saw me cry and didn't flinch.
365. I love that you're the only person who's ever seen me cry. Not even Suguru got that. Just you.
366. I love that you saw me cry and didn't judge me.
367. I love that you saw me cry and held me.
368. I love that you saw me cry and stayed.
369. I love that you saw me cry and loved me anyway.
370. I love that you saw me cry and loved me more.
371. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like it was okay.
372. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was still strong.
373. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was still worthy.
374. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was still enough.
375. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was still everything.
376. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was still yours.
377. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was still me.
378. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was still Satoru.
379. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like Satoru was enough.
380. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like Satoru was everything.
381. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like Satoru was loved.
382. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like Satoru was yours.
383. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was yours.
384. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was home.
385. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was safe.
386. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was protected.
387. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was held.
388. I love that you saw me cry and made me feel like I was loved.
389. I love that you saw me cry and loved me through it.
390. I love that you saw me cry and loved me after it.
391. I love that you saw me cry and loved me always.
392. I love that you saw me cry and loved me forever.
393. I love that you saw me cry and loved me anyway.
394. I love that you saw me cry and loved me.
395. I love that you saw me cry and loved me.
396. I love that you saw me cry and loved me.
397. I love that you saw me cry and loved me.
398. I love that you know.
399. I love that you know all of me.
400. I love that you're the only person who's ever called me out for being full of shit. Most people just laugh or nod or pretend I'm not a disaster. But you? You know. And you still stay.
401. I love that you know the worst of me.
402. I love that you know the worst of me and you still stay.
403. I love that you know the worst of me and you still love me.
404. I love that you know the worst of me and you still choose me.
405. I love that you know the worst of me and you still see the best in me.
406. I love that you know the worst of me and you still believe in me.
407. I love that you know the worst of me and you still make me believe in myself.
408. I love that you know the worst of me and you still make me want to be better.
409. I love that you know the worst of me and you still make me want to be better for you.
410. I love that you make me want to be better for you.
411. I love that you make me want to be better because of you.
412. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me want to be better. Not for anyone else but you.
413. I love that you make me want to be better with you.
414. I love that you make me want to be better.
415. I love that you make me want to be the best version of myself.
416. I love that you make me believe I can be the best version of myself.
417. I love that you make me believe I deserve to be the best version of myself.
418. I love that you make me believe I deserve to be happy.
419. I love that you make me believe I deserve to be loved.
420. I love that you make me believe I deserve to be yours.
421. I love that you make me believe I deserve everything good.
422. I love that you make me believe I deserve you.
423. I love that you make me believe I deserve this.
424. I love that you make me believe I deserve us.
425. I love that you make me believe in us.
426. I love that you make me believe in love.
427. I love that you make me believe in forever.
428. I love that you make me believe in everything.
429. I love that you make me believe.
430. I love the way you make me feel like I can believe.
431. I love the way you make me feel like I can trust.
432. I love the way you make me feel like I can hope.
433. I love the way you make me feel like I can dream.
434. I love the way you make me feel like I can have.
435. I love that you wore my blue shirt that one time and I couldn't stop staring at you. You looked better in it than I ever have.
436. I love the way you make me feel like I can keep.
437. I love the way you make me feel like I can hold.
438. I love the way you make me feel like I can love.
439. I love the way you make me feel like I can be loved.
440. I love the way you make me feel like I can be yours.
441. I love the way you make me feel like I can be me.
442. I love the way you make me feel like I can be Satoru.
443. I love the way you make me feel like I can be just Satoru.
444. I love the way you make me feel like just Satoru is enough.
445. I love the way you make me feel like just Satoru is everything.
446. I love the way you make me feel like just Satoru is loved.
447. I love the way you make me feel like just Satoru is yours.
448. I love the way you make me feel like I'm yours.
449. I love the way you make me feel like you're mine.
450. I love the way you make me feel like we're each other's.
451. I love the way you make me feel like we're forever.
452. I love the way you make me feel like we're infinite.
453. I love the way you make me feel like we're everything.
454. I love the way you make me feel like we're enough.
455. I love the way you make me feel like we're more than enough.
456. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that matters.
457. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's real.
458. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's true.
459. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's right.
460. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's good.
461. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's beautiful.
462. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's worth fighting for.
463. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's worth living for.
464. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's worth dying for.
465. I love the way you make me feel like we're the only thing that's worth everything.
466. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that matters.
467. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's real.
468. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's true.
469. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's right.
470. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's good.
471. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's beautiful.
472. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's worth fighting for.
473. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's worth living for.
474. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's worth dying for.
475. I love the way you make me feel like you're the only thing that's worth everything.
476. I love the way you make me feel like you're everything.
477. I love the way you make me feel like you're my everything.
478. I love the way you make me feel like you're my reason.
479. I love the way you make me feel like you're my purpose.
480. I love that you drool in your sleep. You're going to kill me for writing this down. It's adorable. I love it. I love you.
481. I love the way you make me feel like you're my home.
482. I love the way you make me feel like you're my peace.
483. I love the way you make me feel like you're my joy.
484. I love the way you make me feel like you're my love.
485. I love the way you make me feel like you're my life.
486. I love the way you make me feel like you're my everything.
487. I love the way you make me feel like I'm your everything.
488. I love the way you make me feel like we're everything.
489. I love the way you make me feel like we're each other's everything.
490. I love the way you make me feel like we're meant to be.
491. I love the way you make me feel like we're destiny.
492. I love the way you make me feel like we're fate.
493. I love the way you make me feel like we're inevitable.
494. I love the way you make me feel like we're eternal.
495. I love the way you make me feel like we're forever.
496. I love the way you make me feel like we're infinite.
497. I love that we're everything.
498. I love that we're forever.
499. I love that I know you're going to make me sit here while you read all of these. I planned for this. I want this. I want you to know exactly how much I mean it.
500. I love that you're reading this right now.
501. I love that you're holding this letter.
502. I love that you're holding my words in your hands.
503. I love that you're holding my heart in your hands.
504. I love that you're holding me in your hands.
505. I love that you're holding us in your hands.
506. I love that you're holding everything in your hands.
507. I love that you're holding everything and you're not letting go.
508. I love that you're holding everything and you're not running away.
509. I love that you're holding everything and you're staying.
510. I love that you're staying.
511. I love that you're here.
512. I love that you're mine.
513. I love that I'm yours.
514. I love that we're each other's.
515. I love that we're everything.
516. I love that we're forever.
517. I love that we're infinite.
518. I love that we're us.
519. I love that we're in love.
520. Because if I get a thousand versions of this life, I'd look for you in every single one.
Okay. There they are. 520 reasons. I told you it was excessive.
I know this is ridiculous. I know this is excessive. I know you're probably rolling your eyes right now, and I can already hear you saying "Satoru, you didn't have to do all this."
But I wanted to. I needed to.
Because words have never been my strength. Not the kind that matter. Not the kind that make people feel seen. I can talk circles around anyone, perform confidence like a second skin, but when it comes to the things that live in my chest like living things — I choke. I perform. I deflect.
I don't want to deflect with you. I want you to see all of me. Even the parts I'm scared to show.
So I made you flowers that wouldn't wilt. I gathered the things you wanted but wouldn't give yourself. I wrote down every reason I could think of — and then I kept going. And going. And going. Until my hand cramped and my eyes burned and the sun came up and I was still writing.
Because I couldn't stop. Because every time I thought I was done, I thought of something else. Another reason. Another memory. Another piece of you I wanted to hold onto.
You probably don't realize how much I notice. You probably don't realize that I've been paying attention since the very beginning. The way you laugh when you're really surprised. The way you hum when you're thinking. The way you look at me when you think I'm not looking.
I notice everything. I notice everything about you.
And I love everything about you.
That's not an exaggeration. That's not me being dramatic. That's just the truth. I love you. All of you. Every single part. The parts you love. The parts you hate. The parts you hide. The parts you don't even know exist.
I love you.
Not because you're perfect. Not because you make my life easier. Not because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me — though you are, you are, you are.
I love you because you're you. Because you see me. Because you stay. Because loving you has made me into someone I actually want to be.
I love you because you're the first person who ever made me feel like I could just be Satoru. Not Gojo. Not the strongest. Not the one everyone needs. Just me. Regular Satoru, who leaves his socks on the floor and sings off-key in the shower and can't cook anything that doesn't come with instructions on the back of a box.
You make me feel like regular Satoru is enough.
That's everything.
So here it is. All of it. Every reason I could think of. And if I missed any — and I know I did, because there aren't enough words in the world to capture everything you are to me — I'll write them down later. I'll keep writing. I'll never stop.
Because you're worth it. You're worth all of it. You're worth everything.
I know I don't say it enough. I know I hide behind jokes and smirks and the mask I've been wearing for so long I almost forgot it wasn't my real face. But with you, I want to take it off. I want you to see the real me. The messy, broken, terrified, hopeful me.
The me that loves you.
The me that can't imagine a life without you.
The me that would cross universes for you. Tear down worlds for you. Do anything for you. Anything. Everything.
I mean that. I mean all of it.
So if you ever forget — if you ever doubt — if you ever wonder if I really love you — come back to this letter. Read it again. Read it a hundred times. I don't care. I want you to know.
I want you to always know.
520 is "I love you" in Chinese internet slang. Wǒ ài nǐ. Very romantic. Very me. But it's also more than that. It's 520 reasons. It's three weeks of my life. It's every piece of my heart, scattered across pages, waiting for you to put them back together.
I hope you understand what I'm trying to say.
I hope you know how much you mean to me.
I hope you never, ever forget.
I love you.
Full stop. No conditions, no asterisks, no fine print.
Just you. Just me. Just this.
Forever.
— Satoru ♡
A/N. the irony of the letter being longer than the fic it's featured in.. 😭💔 if i ever repeated smt, IGNORE IT. im too lazy to re-read ☹️
Plagiarism not authorized. Do not feed my work to AI. Feel free to req!! <3
”Cuz we never go out of STYLE!” -Taylor Swift ft. Frat!Jo x Geto’s sister!fem!reader
Summary:Satoru Gojo is infamous at Jujutsu University. He’s the Football jock, vice president of the frat, Suguru’s bestfriend since childhood, and THE campus Fuckboy. But he’s had a crush on the one girl he absolutely couldn’t have, his best friend’s younger sister. And despite all the rules your older brother had given you since high school, it all seems to fall apart when he’s busy, and you slowly fall in love with Satoru. But he is the Campus Fuckboy. Do you let your guard down?
TAGS:contains (skippable) smut, fluff, angst, swearing, crack, plug!choso,Megumi and Toji are brothers, Itafushi, Suguru is strict, implied past parent issues, drinking, smoking, getting catcalled (and being saved), lots of arguments, hurt/comfort, corny jokes,3 year age gap, lots of teasing, very poorly written smut, n*oya, it’s always fucking raining ic
A/N: woahhh this is my first long fic, if it flops I’m gonna cry. Half way through I dropped it and then picked it up again but then got distracted because I was thinking of a diff fic idea aghh I hate my brain!
Track list:
Style - Taylor Swift
I wanna be yours - Arctic Monkeys
Into you - Ariana Grande
A night to remember - Laufey, Beabadoobee
Bills - Enhypen
Midnight Fiction - illit
Facetime - LNGSHOT
About You - 1975
“Well, If it isn’t Suguru’s pretty and better little sister.” Satoru had announced his arrival quite loudly to Suguru’s and your penthouse, throwing his football bag on the floor . “Please don’t call her that.” His best friend groaned as he tossed his car keys in the pile on the counter filled with keys, coupons and sticky notes, placed his own neatly beside the counter and followed behind Satoru, where he was diving onto the living room’s couch.
You had been standing on the kitchen counter with your laptop and phone as you were trying to study, and had looked up before smiling at the two arrivals. “Is that your new way of greeting me, Satoru?” You teasingly asked. “What? If you don’t want it I’ll call you somethin’ else..” he winked.
“No, you’re just going to call her Y/n. Y’know,Her name.” Suguru intervened, as you tossed him an apple from the fruit bowl close to you. “Yeah yeah, loosen up, man.” Satoru snorted, giving you a chaste wink before acting like he was on his phone.
“If Satoru is here, don’t tell me you guys are hosting another party here. You guys better clean up and get your sweaty bags away from me.” He sleazed a grin. “Why can’t I hang out with the two of my favourite people?” Then he put a hand beside his lips to loudly whisper to you. “And it’s Not Geto..” you giggled, whispering back and matching his facade. “Then who’s the other person?” “Me.” He smugly said and Suguru threw another apple at his head.
Satoru grumbled but jumped up when Suguru hissed loudly. “Shit.” You turned to him, who was staring at his phone. “What? Did we lock someone in the locker room again? Oooor Is it the frat?” “Great. Fucking Fushiguro gambled half the frat’s savings away again.” He cursed under his breath, grabbing his keys again.
“You coming?” He called Satoru. “I’m tireddddd,You’re on your own! I Almost killed Fushiguro once, remember? Come to think of it,I think it was for this exact reason. ” He replied way too jaunty for someone who almost committed murder. You could hear him curse under his breath before he called to you. “I’ll bring back wingstop, don’t cook anything.” “Okay!”
And when the front door slammed shut, it was just you and Satoru. He perked up from the couch, and made his way to sit on one of the counter chairs across from you. “Still studying?” You nodded, sighing. “Not all of us ditch our classes, Y’know.” He raised his hands and dramatically gasped. “You’re so cruel!” “I thought I was your favourite.”
He leaned in, resting his chin on his hand propped up on the table. “Yeah, you are.” You rolled your eyes but slightly blushed, and turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He did. “Aww, someone’s bluushiiing!” “Am not!” “Sure,sweets. You’re cute.” He pulled out his phone and pretended to be on instagram.
“Your phone’s upside down. You’re blushing too.”
“It’s a new trend.”
Despite Suguru promising food was coming, it was nearing 11 at night, and you were hungry. Satoru, who had shifted from the couch, back to the table, and then to the couch again sat up when he heard you sighing, opening a cabinet to find the instant Ramen stash, the one Suguru hated you eating after all the lectures you were given for eating something processed like that.
He let you keep the stash, but being his petty self, made it unreachable on the top shelf for you. You huffed, frustrated before you felt a warm chest behind your back and the scent of expensive cologne and ocean breeze. Satoru nudged your hand before easily reaching to the top shelf, grabbing, coincidentally your favourite ramen and another flavour.
You turned towards him, who grinned while handing you your ramen. “Shortie.” “You can’t be talking, you were two apples tall when you were ten.” You retorted. “Nah, you’re imagining it.” He wriggled his fingers and waved them around you while “oooohing”
You slapped his hands away before turning towards the kettle and turning it on. “How’d you know I liked this flavour?” You smiled. “Lucky guess.” He put his hands in his pockets as you set up the ramen, your back towards you. “Really? You picked the mildest one?” You scoffed when you threw away the packaging and the seasonal packets.
“Oh come on! You pick the spiciest one! Are you even human?” He argues back. And you turn towards him and cross your arms. “Are you just a pussy?” You gave him a mischievous glint and he widened his eyes in realization.
“Oh fuck no, you aren’t catching me dead eating that concoction for living hell!” You gave him a wide smile, leaning in and raising your eyebrows. “Huh, the most feared quarterback can’t handle a little spice? And besides,I thought I was your favourite!” You sang, recalling his words a few hours before. He scratched the back of his neck before sighing, and flicked your forehead. “What do I even do with you?” You cheered and he smiled, sweat beading at what he was just coaxed into.
It was around one when Suguru had stormed back home, in such annoyance that he didn’t even get wingstop. But he noticed yours and Satoru’s laughs from the couch, where some reality tv show was playing, the both of your talking drowning out the intro.
“I’m just saying! If I was there, I’d always be swimming in that big ass pool!” Satoru remarked about how unreal the show seemed. “Can you even swim?” He gasped dramatically. “With a floatie, I can!” You burst out laughing, swatting his arm.
Suguru briskly cleared his throat and the both of you turned around to where he was standing behind the couch. “Hey! Was there a fight?” Satoru cheerfully asked. Suguru sighed. “No, but the funds are gone. Fushiguro’s luck doesn’t exist, leaving us with more than half of our assets gone. If the university finds out, they’ll take this out of our own funds, and won’t grant us permission to do anything for the fraternity.” He then looked up where Satoru quickly took his arm off of you, and then the ramen bowls on the living room table.
“Didn’t realize you two were so.. friendly..” he muttered. You reached out to punch your brother’s arm. “We had to fend for ourselves, it was forced.” Suguru hummed and walked off. “I need a shower. Are you crashing for the night, Satoru?” “Nah, I’m heading out.”
He stood up, grabbing his keys, football bag and phone. You stood up as well, walking him to the door out of respect. “I already know the way, sweets.” He chuckled. “I know, just making sure you don’t die.” “Yeah?” He patted your head, and you realized that he could technically use you as an arm rest because of his height.
“That was fun, apart from when you tried killing me.” He added. He gave you a wave before closing the door into the apartment’s hallway. When you turned around, Suguru was right behind you, and you shrieked, almost running into him.
“Jesus! You scared the shit out of me.” “Was he being an idiot to you?” “Isn’t he always one?” His eyes darkened. “I’m being serious y/n. He didn’t do anything to you, right?” You pushed him away. “Sugu, I’ve no clue what you’re talking about? We were just watching that stupid love island show and eating ramen. That’s it, now I need to go, he’s a bad distraction for studying.”
You walked off to your room, across from Suguru’s. You didn’t want to listen to your older brother’s lectures. “He sure is one, isn’t he..” Suguru muttered.
Rumours of the frat’s little ‘mishap’ spread across campus like it was wildfire during the night. You knew that Suguru would be spending all his free time outside of classes, sorting the mess out as the president of the frat house. Satoru, who was the vice president, didn't take his role seriously.
Around campus they were called the duo, where Suguru, although partied, made sure nobody died during parties, while Satoru was the reason someone almost died, usually a random guy who had even the tiniest bit of ego.
Despite being high on the popularity hierarchy and constantly attending and hosting frat parties, Suguru was strict with you and went to those parties. Any party he wasn’t attending or any party that wasn’t hosted by any of his close frat friends were off limits to you.
“I can’t trust you alone at some party without me watching.” He had argued once when you were upset when you couldn’t party with your girlfriends. “I’m not gonna die if I’m alone for one night!” “How do you know that?” He sharply retorted, and you quietened, looking down at the floor.
He had sighed, before ruffling your hair, in the way he always had comforted you with. “Look, I just wanna keep you safe. You’re all I have left.” He looked away. “If something happened to you, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself. You’re still my baby sister.” “I’m not a baby.” You rolled your eyes, but smiling. “You’re always gonna be a baby to me.” And he shoved you playfully.
He had another rule for you. Under no circumstances could you ever date anybody in the frat. Or anyone in general.
“So you’ve never gotten laid or anything because of his weird ass rules. Got it.” Nobara, your best friend said the next afternoon after that night. “Nope.” You sighed, popping the ‘p’. “What kind of uni year old hasn’t ever been kissed before?” “And you’re sexy, on top of that.” She winked. You grinned. “Not as sexy as you.” “Aw I’m blushing.”
“You guys can’t flirt anywhere else?” Yuji groaned as he approached the cafe’s booth where your friend group was hanging out for the day. “Move over, we have three other people to fit inside.” “We were actually enjoying our ‘date’ until you showed up.” Nobara stuck her tongue out at him to which he stuck his tongue out as well.
“Where’s everyone else? You’re actually early for once.” You asked, checking the group chat and time. “Megs is defending his older brother from the whole frat drama, Inumaki probably got lost and Maki went to go and find him.”
“Oh yeah, Megumi’s brother is Toji. That must be great for a bitchless emo like him. Ow!-” Nobara hissed at your punch. “-Oh, hey Fushiguro.” “Bitchless emo, huh?” Megumi sat beside you, hands in his pockets and rolling his eyes.
“Whatever, anyways, your brother must be pissed at the whole situation.” Yuji who sat across you and beside Nobara turned the attention back onto you. You stirred the melting ice cube in your empty drink with the straw as you sighed.
“Yeps. Gojo’s basically useless- "
"hey, no I’m not!”
You turned to the tall ivory haired man with a compressed T-shirt and black cargos, was he always that defined? His arms were pretty beefy too, veiny all the way to his fingers. “Eyes up here, sweets.”
“Oh, hey Gojo!” You snapped back to him, slightly flushed about..checking your brother’s best friend out. “Where’s Suguru?”
“Pissed at Fushiguro again, apparently his brother was trying to cover for him, bitchless emo…oh, hey Fushiguro-.” “Literally Fuck all of you guys.” “-but yeahh, anyways, I was bored. Oh, you comin’ to the party?”
You raise an eyebrow, confused. “What party?” Satoru clicked his tongue and grinned, giving you a folded lined piece of paper. You unfolded it, where in Satoru’s messy writing, and a bunch of doodles everywhere, was the invite.
“So did everyone get an invite as pretty as this?” “Nopes, only you sweets.” “You’re tung tung tung sacool enough to get this invite. Really?” “Kamo suggested a higher entry fee to get some money back, but the party’s gonna be more than big. This is a free way in. “Hey wait! Choso didn’t say I could get in for free!” “That’s because you’d eat all their food budget.” “I wasn’t talking to you!”
“Suguru didn’t say anything about a fundraiser…” you murmured. And you heard Satoru kiss his teeth. “Yeah.. well.. he kinda doesn’t know.” “What?!” Your whole group exclaims loudly before settling back down, realizing the disturbance you all made in the otherwise calm atmosphere and muttering a few ‘sorrys’
“Geto plans all these parties though!” Nobara countered. “Welllll, sometimes, I do. He just makes sure we don’t get arrested and we have money, which we don’t.” “So how the hell are you pulling this off?” Maki strolled in much too late but listening in, shoving Yuji to make space at the booth seat.
“Heyy Zen’in, you cut your hair? Looks sick.” “Gojo!” “Right right.. sorry. Anyways, this morning I stole his charger, then his knee pads, then his deodorant, and instead of him yelling at me like always, he didn’t even notice. Sooo, the whole day we made plans and since he’s already busy enough with Nanami distracting him, we just moved around.”
Gojo’s phone buzzed then. “You guys should come, it’s in two weeks. Friday night.” He said to the whole group, yet he never broke eye contact with you and he gave you a smile before bouncing off, saluting off and taking his phone call. “Yeah yeah, I know Ryo-“
“So are you going?” Megumi asked, staring at the poorly written invite. “You get in for free.” He added. “Have you not seen my brother?” You groaned. “It’s fine, I guess. I can always go to another party, it shouldn't be that special. Oh, Maki?” “Hm?” “Where’s Inumaki?”
————
You kept the letter folded and underneath a stuffed animal on your desk. The act was cute, and Satoru did say that the invitation was only for you, although you weren’t too sure how you would get past security with such an “exquisite” invitation.
It was a shame for a vip offer to be wasted, you thought. But knowing Suguru, he’d kill you before you could even try to go. Your phone buzzed from two texts from Suguru. “Sorry, I’ll be late. Order some food and save some for me.”
You scoffed, replying with a thumbs up and was about to close your phone until you got a call. “Gojo?” “Heyyy sweets, is Suguru there? He isn’t responding to my texts, bastard.”
“No, he said he was gonna be late. Why, what’s up?” “You wouldn’t mind opening the door for me would’cha?” You strode to the door, where Satoru was leaning on the door frame, his azure eyes half covered by his sunglasses as he hung up the phone when he met you, giving the same grin he always did to you. Seriously, did he just always have that smile?
“What’re you doing here? I just told you he wasn’t here?” He closed the door behind him, slipping off his sneakers. “Practice went late, my car’s in the shop and your bastard brother just left for Nanami's without me. You wouldn’t mind if I crashed with you, yeah?” He shrugged off his wet varsity jacket to reveal the compressed shirt from earlier. You looked out the living room window where it was pouring.
His hair was damp, and he shivered slightly. You frowned. “Did you have any backup plans? Suguru probably doesn’t know you’re even here..” you trailed off, but he took your wrist, his hands were freezing. “I..I couldn’t. My roommate got a girl over so he kinda kicked me out, and you know how my family is.. please?”
You sighed. “Fine, but Suguru can’t get mad at me, I’m helping a friend out.” He gave almost a soft smile, he was so close to your face, towering over you. His lashes were damp and long, as they blinked over his eyes. He took off his glasses slowly; almost as if he didn’t want to, and pulled away. You knew Suguru hated people coming over unannounced, especially when it was just you and one of his fraternity members but Suguru seemed to hate everything, it seemed.
“Are you gonna make me eat that buldak thing again?” He teased. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Sounds enticing, but my brother said to order food. You know how he is with processed foods and basically everything.” Satoru chuckled. “He runs a strict program at the frat and stricter here, what can you do?”
His words rang in your ears. What could you do? Because of Suguru, you had never even held hands with a boy. Any time a guy would ask you out, Suguru would know. And he’d chase them off. But what could you do? Countless arguments with his stupid rules and babying you always ended up in a constant loop of getting nowhere.
Satoru had noticed you slightly spacing out, so he clapped his hands together and caught your attention. “Okay! You want me to order? I guess I owe you?” “Nah, it’s nothing. You don’t have to..” but Gojo refused to listen, already opening up DoorDash. “What are we in the mood for? Sushi? Pizza, Burgers..?”
“Pizza’s fine.” “With or without pineapple?” “Are you serious?” You deadpanned. “Dead serious.” He said, with a straight face to match you.
The pizza arrived not long after, and you grabbed a slice before sitting on the sofa as Satoru followed suit. “So, you coming to the party?” He asked absentmindedly. You groaned. “My brother doesn’t even know about it! He won’t let me go since I’ll have nobody to watch over me.” You mimicked his exact words.
“But I’ll be there, I can keep an eye on you.” Satoru said, a little more serious. You stopped, and looked at him. “You’ll be busy though, you won’t even pay attention to me.” You laughed awkwardly. “Who said that? I do pay attention to you. And why would I be busy?” You raised an eyebrow. Was he dumb?
“Seriously? Won’t you be.. I don’t know.. managing the party or hooking up with someone? You know, your whole title, Gojo the fuckboy?” He slightly flinched at the title. He was infamous for that name. Who wouldn’t resist someone as handsome as he was? Tall, lean, and not only on the football team and defined but a flirt.
Yet it was always the fuckboy, never Satoru Gojo, wasn’t it?
“I can last a night without sex. Doesn’t Suguru trust me?” He half joked. “Well…” “okay fine, maybe not. But, if it’s for your sake..” he leaned in a little closer. “I’ll make sure you’re safe, alright?” Your breath slightly caught.
He knew how to do that, you reminded yourself. You couldn’t feel anything towards your brother’s bestfriend. You should know this! But you nodded, fully believing him, because there was something in his voice that made you want to trust him. To believe in him so badly.
He leaned back onto the couch. “Are we watchin’ something?” You picked up the remote. “Guess so, there’s this not so new movie I’ve been wanting to watch, finally came on Netflix..”
While the movie had played, you were so engrossed on the film that you didn’t notice how Satoru wasn’t even watching. Instead, he was watching you come subconsciously close towards him on the couch, slightly shifting towards him as you ate your pizza.
And suddenly you felt his scent, and realized how close you were to him, pulling away.“Oh my gosh! Sorry!” You were about to retreat back to where you were before he chuckled. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. C’mere.” You hesitated before slightly moving towards him again.
Twenty minutes must’ve gone by, and Satoru’s mind was elsewhere. Away from the movie and onto you. How you were so..innocent, not wrapped in a world like this, because of his best friend, who was clearly the polar opposite of you.
You never smoked a day in your life, and Satoru knew that Suguru always gave you snacks and drinks from parties, staying close by and multitasking, as he socialized and made sure nothing happened to you. Just like he always had done since he knew you as kids.
Your bond with your brother was close, seeing as you had moved in with him after your parents finally drove you out. Suguru had always advised you and occasionally begged you to stay with him instead, yet you really did try to tolerate them, but eventually, it was too much. Without Suguru defending you after every fight you had with them.
And he realized as the three of you grew up, that you may have just called him a brother. Despite all the years he’s liked you. Yet Suguru would always keep you away. He didn’t need to say it out loud to know that you were off limits to Gojo. And it should’ve been that way, Satoru thought. Someone like you didn’t need to be with someone like him. The university fuckboy.
Satoru had always liked you. With a soft spot for you, and when he could, he’d try to get close to you. That’s why even though Sukuna was staying at his girl’s place, he pretended that he couldn’t go to his frat’s room. Not like you’d ask questions anyways. He also had hoped that you didn’t realize he purposely got himself soaking after shoving his football bag in his room.
Satoru felt something slightly nudge his chest. As the movie continued on, you felt drowsy. Maybe it was because of Satoru’s scent and warmth. You fought to keep your heavy eyelids open, but closing them felt so easy.
Satoru looked down, where you were breathing softly, unaware that you rested on his chest. His arm that was behind you and perched on the top of the sofa found its way to envelop and curl into your shoulders, slightly patting them.
God, you were so beautiful, with the tv light flickering on your sleeping face. Your lashes were like a blanket for your eyes that he always searched for every reaction after his antics to make you laugh. Your lips slightly parted as you let out a satisfied sleepy hum.
He should’ve pulled away. Should’ve left, or pushed you off. Should’ve woken you up or just anything, but he didn’t. Just kept his arm around you. “Thought you wanted to watch this movie, sweets.” He murmured, softly. You curled into him, and Satoru swore his heart skipped a half beat.
The movie was ending, Satoru could tell because the lead couple were finally reunited for a ‘happily ever after’. He didn’t follow along with the movie at all, all of it being background noise while he listened to your breaths. He felt drowsy, yet stayed awake. In case you needed something.
He heard the sound of keys jingling and the knob twisting before the door opened. Then the heavy footsteps and a frustrated sigh. “Fucking Fushiguro..”
Suguru stopped for a second, watching the tv and then, the back of Satoru’s messy hair on the couch? What the hell was he doing here? and as he moved closer.. he saw you leaned against him?
“What’s going on here?” He sharply raised his voice. Satoru immediately retracted his arm, moving it to scratch the side of his neck while you woke up, confused about the lack of warmth on your waist before pulling away. “What were you doing sleeping on him?”
You rubbed your eyes, still confused. “Hm? I didn’t notice I fell asleep.” You mumbled. Suguru turned back to Satoru. “What about you? What, you just let her do that? That’s my sister.” “Chill out man, what am I supposed to do? Shove her away?”
“Yeah? you guys should have some boundaries, y’know.” He seethed. “Why are you making it so weird? It’s not like I meant to fall asleep on him.” You argued, still sleepy. Your big brother pinched the sides of his nose before storming to his room. “Look, I already have enough bullshit to deal with. I don’t have time for this.”
You heard him slam the door and you looked at Satoru, who was also looking back. He gave a shrug. “I think I should leave now..” he said quietly, and then walked to his sneakers. “What? It’s still raining? Just sleep on the couch.” You followed him, but he stopped you and patted your hair that was messy from leaning on him. “It’s fine, sweets. I’ll uh.. I’ll crash at Kamo’s. Don’t worry about your pretty little head.” He gave himself an excuse to give you a smile before waving and opening the door. “See ya.”
When you closed the door, making your way to your own room, and changing into pajamas you were frustrated with your brother. Why was he being like this? Since the whole money loss thing, he had been so busy, and now he cared about you this much?
You let out a sigh, getting in bed after checking your phone one last time when you heard a knock on the door. You sighed, knowing who it was. “Door’s open.” You called.
You expected and wanted an apology from him, but instead the bastard just gave you a dead serious face, eyes darkened and brows furrowed. “You wanna tell me what I witnessed twenty minutes ago?” You sat up. “What you saw was Satoru, y’know your best friend,the kid I’ve known my whole life and I watched a movie.”
“And you just had to cuddle each other?” “I wasn’t cuddling him!” You exclaimed indignantly. “I fell asleep! That’s literally it! Why are you being so dramatic?”
“Listen, Satoru is my best friend but that doesn’t mean I’ll defend him when he breaks hearts. I don’t know what the fuck you two are doing behind my back, but you should stay away from him.”
“Kind of hard when he comes here almost every couple days, and I’ve seen him as a brother my whole life.” You sighed. “Look. Nothing is going on between us. To me he’s another brother. Dumber, but still there when you aren’t.”
You were lying through your teeth. Brother my ass. The afternoon earlier you were checking him out through his shirt. But Suguru sighed. “Y’know I’m here, just shit’s on my mind.” He said before storming off, not closing the door after you because of course he wouldn’t. You felt bad for lying to him. But you really didn’t mean to fall asleep on him.
That same night, Satoru went to his room, that was empty as his roommate was having the time of his life with his girlfriend. Odd as it was, he kept his room specifically neat. Nobody was allowed to be in his room unless it was him and whatever girl he brought up, only to never remember their name again.
But you were an exception. He remembered yours obviously, and your birthday. He remembered how you smiled at his stupidity then and still now. He remembered how in Highschool he liked you so much, half the time he didn’t even come for Suguru. You were shy of him back then. He was just some random guy with a bad hair cut and a shirt and shorts with mud all over his face, waving to you goofily as Suguru would smack him. You would wave slightly before playing with your dolls again.
He also remembered the first time he had witnessed you getting yelled at by your parents. “Just stay there, man. I’ll be back up in a sec.” Sixteen year old Suguru had rushed downstairs, throwing his controller somewhere. Of course Satoru didn’t stay there.
He took a peek by the stairs, where he saw you, thirteen and puffy eyes as your mother screamed at you. Suguru had gone down and yelled back at them. “Give her a break! She’s just a kid! It’s my fault, I should’ve been watching her.”
He had seen his friend bring you upstairs, to hang out with him and Satoru. You had tried acting cool in front of your big brother’s friend, stifling sniffles. Satoru, not knowing what else to do, gave you his controller. “I think you’ll be better at this than me, huh?” He grinned.
You obviously wouldn’t. But you weren’t going to refuse him, since of how cute he looked.
He remembered when the three of you once you reached highschool, would walk together home. You and him teaming up to annoy Suguru, one time making him scold the both of you. And he remembered the time when during your last year of highschool, Suguru made you move in in his apartment. Satoru and your brother had helped you paint your walls and set up fairy lights and big posters.
But he knew he couldn’t have you. Not when your brother had been shielding you your whole life. So he tried drowning his feelings in parties and random strangers. Hoping that he could move on. But he couldn’t. Even during a haze of pleasure, was he thinking of how you were probably studying, so docile.
The amount of times he had to hold his tongue to not slip out your name while he was balls deep in another girl. And how he dreamed that instead of briefly helping whichever girl he fucked, for somewhat of aftercare, that it was you, and it was him doting on you.
Not any one of his one night stands ever had any love or second meetups. He wouldn’t even remember what she looked like. And the only girl he truly wanted was someone he couldn’t have. Why did he have to make things so difficult for himself?
No doubt would his best friend, despite all the things he had put up with, wouldn’t enjoy the idea of fuckboy Satoru Gojo having a thing for his sister.
He thought of not indulging in any of your shenanigans, just to assure Suguru that his childhood and life long crush for his sister wasn’t there at the bottom of his heart. He didn’t want to be someone who relied on one night stands for the rest of his life.
The big party that your brother still was somehow oblivious to was at the end of the week. It was Wednesday and you were dying to finish your thesis statement before the weekend.
Your friends, despite protests and “we’re not going without you” eventually gave into your reassurances that you’d be fine. You’d doomscroll and hang out with them the next day. You hated the feeling of missing out, but what could you do? “Fucking Suguru Geto.” You muttered to yourself.
You were in the library, after desperately needing a different scene other than your room with Megumi. If only he wasn't actually a good study buddy, and he studied.
“Fushiguro.. Fushiguro..” you nagged. He grumbled. “What.” “Have you asked out Itadori yet?” He elbowed you. “Alright, what are you blackmailing me for this time?” You hummed, satisfied, knowing that the same blackmail trick would work for probably the rest of eternity if he never would grow the balls to ask out his highschool crush.
“Do you know anything about the party?” He set down his pencil he was flicking around. “Go ask your brother?” “God, you’re stupid.” “Yeah, yeah I am now let me study.” You rolled your eyes before having a wonderful idea.
“Hmm, I wonder what if I just called Yuji and told him some juicy gossip.” You purred. “Fuckin hell, okay fine, what?” “I just wanna know what your older brother told you!”
“I mean, he has to be a security guard as punishment, but we all know he’s not doing that. Nanami is supposed to keep your brother away; I’m still not sure why he’s in the frat anyways. And Toji said that technically according to Suguru and conduct shit, that if Suguru finds out, not only is he gonna beat everyone’s ass, but mainly Satoru’s regardless if he planned it or not.. then something else, probably snitching to the administration.”
“Damn, my brother’s a snitch.” You muttered. “Yeah, but then again, if he didn’t manage the parties, they’d probably get arrested or some shit.” Megumi hummed. Then he picked up his phone before hissing. “Shit. Sorry y/n, I gotta go. Itadori just said he got injured during practice. Won’t let anyone else-“ “see his injuries?” You finished, slightly smirking.
Megumi blushed. “Shut up. You got a ride home?” He tossed his car keys. “Suguru’s driving me back home.” You called after him. “You sure?” “Go take care of your boyfriend, buh bye!”
You worked a little more, highlighting notes and scratching them out from the sleepiness that was taking over. You looked out the large window, where it was a storm. You had texted Suguru twenty minutes ago, to which he said he’d be there in five.
“Library is closing.” You turned and took off your headphones to see the middle aged lady with a really bad haircut sneer at you. “Oh, my ride isn’t here-“ “too bad, it’s closing time.”
And now suddenly you were kicked outside. The librarian really didn’t like you or something, you muttered to yourself. The brisk air made you shiver through your thin hoodie and soggy sweatpants. You tugged the sleeves to cover your trembling hands.
You tried calling suguru. But every single time resulted in. The same voicemail of his stupid voice “call you back soon!” “Call me back my ass.” You spat out through chattering teeth.
You should’ve just taken Megumi’s offer before naively believing your busy brother would find the time or remember to take you home. The buses wouldn’t run so late, at eleven at night, unless you wanted to hang out with high and drunk people.
You tried calling one more time before groaning out of frustration, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.Why out of all days would your supposedly protective brother leave you outside to fend for yourself?
You watched your phone battery drain even on low power mode. All those missed calls drained it further all the way to five percent. You could try calling one more time. Or… suddenly, a notification from Gojo’s highlights on instagram reminded you of him.
Your fingers trembled as you opened the app and texted him. He was probably partying right now. Probably across the city.
You:
“Hey, u free?”
Satoru:
“Damnnnnn, someone’s bold.”
“What’s up sweets?”
You:
“Do you think you could pick me up? From the library?”
Satoru:
“Isn’t the library closed?”
You:
“I got kicked out and Suguru isn’t here.”
Satoru:
“You’re kidding.”
“Where are you.”
“Stay there I’m coming in ten”
You:
“Please hurry, it’s cold and I’m scared”
Satoru:
“I’m coming sweets.”
In less than ten minutes (more like three minutes and five seconds), you saw Satoru’s Mercedes approaching somewhat fast before slowing down and reversing to your exact spot. He got out of the car and rushed towards you standing on the sidewalk, beside a street lamp.
“Oh my God, you’re fucking shivering.” Without hesitation, he took off his Varsity jacket, the jacket he was infamous for, and draped it on your shoulders. It was warm, and smelt like him.
He stretched an arm out, and you walked into it, only for him to pull you into his embrace. He felt so warm, so comforting, and so safe. You didn’t even notice tears slipping from you until you tried and failing to hold back a choked sob.
“Aw, sweetheart, it’s alright. Shh, I’m here. C’mon, let’s get you home, m’kay?” You let him guide you to the front door, him opening it and letting you crawl inside.
When he was inside, he turned on the heater. And drove off.
“Fucking hell, what were you gonna do outside like that?” He gritted his teeth, and gripped the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles whiter than their pink undertone.
“Suguru said he’d pick me up when I texted him.. then that librarian bitch kicked me out and I was stuck here.. I was gonna walk home..”
“Dude, your apartment building is like, a whole twenty minute drive away, you could’ve DIED!” You snorted weakly. “No I wouldn’t. Just be sick for a few days.”
But Satoru was dead serious. “I’m actually gonna kill your brother, seriously. What kind of guy promises to take his sister home, and let the rain almost kill her?”
“I’m really tired, Gojo.” You whispered hoarsely. He stopped at an upcoming red light, and watched your eyelids droop heavily. God in the red lighting on a night like this, you were irresistible. “Alright sweets. I’ll get you home.” He murmured.
As you rested, you didn’t notice when the car had made its way to the underground parking of your complex, and hadn’t noticed when it stopped, Satoru watched you for ten minutes.
He hesitated before slowly reaching for your cheek. Just to feel it with his finger. God he just wanted you for himself, like this, except instead of sleeping because your brother forgot about you, you falling asleep, in a dress he bought for you, warm and safe, with his jacket draped onto you.
That’s how it just felt it should’ve been. He brushed your cheek and swept away damp strands of hair from your face.
He couldn’t have you, that’s what hurt. But he could live off of this, right? You had innocently ruined him. Sleeping so safely in his car, in his jacket. You weren’t just a little sister to him, because a normal sane person didn’t think about their best friend’s little sister every waking moment.
He waited for a few seconds of silence before gently rubbing your shoulder. “Hey, we’re home…” he whispered. It took him a few more nudges before you finally woke up, mumbling. “Gojo?” “Y’know, if you slept any longer I might’ve just kidnapped you!” He joked, grinning back into his usual self, like he wasn’t just plain worried for you and mad at your brother.
“That wouldn’t be too bad if it was you.” You murmured, rubbing your eyelids, and indifferent to the mascara being smudged on and underneath your eyes. Satoru pretended those words didn’t mess up his mind for a moment, and helped you out of the car.
“You need me to walk you to your door?” Satoru asked, wary of your brother and his mood at the both of you together. “It’s alright, don’t party too hard, Gojo.” You called after, waving to him before heading inside the apartment basement.
Satoru sat back in his car and hit his head on the steering wheel. He wanted to hit it on the horn and listen to it blare across the quiet parking lot, but he knew better, sort of. He just needed to have you once, just once and he’ll be fine. Maybe it was just some phase. Like he needed to ask you out, you slap him and he goes back to normal fuckboy.
You trudged upstairs, slightly staggering from your dazed and sleepy state. You clung onto Satoru’s jacket, feeling how warm it was and reminiscing the smell of him when he hugged you, like you were delicate.
You unlocked the door and slammed it shut once you went inside. Suguru was standing on the counter, and he ended the call he was trying to reach (yours it seemed like) and stared at you before sighing.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” “Yeah I do, y’know why? Because I was nonstop calling you and you decided to leave me out there in the rain.” You laughed tiredly, with no joy to it. “Look I didn’t even notice, I’m sorry, but you could’ve told me where you were, I was calling and calling-“ “my phone died, okay? I was stranded outside because the stupid library kicked me out, and I was stranded for almost twenty minutes at eleven at night. Happy?”
Suguru exhaled, closing his eyes where his fists were clasped together and propped by his elbows on the marble counter. He looked up again and his pupils dilated. “What’s that you’re wearing?” “A jacket.” “I know that! Why are you wearing Satoru’s jacket?”
You shrugged. “I was freezing, he gave it to me.” And Suguru chuckled darkly. “Ah, so that’s where you’ve been. With Satoru?” His jaw ticked, he didn’t need an answer. “Why? Why not any one of your friends?”
“Because he was the first person I thought of- I don’t know?” You spluttered. Why did it matter? You were back in one piece. You wanted to go to your room, curl up in blankets and drown out Suguru’s droning. “Do you know how stupid you sound right now? The first person you thought of was Satoru, really?”
You wanted to cut in, but he kept going. “You think Satoru’s paying any actual attention to you? Do you think you’re special? He’s probably out right now fucking some chick right now. He doesn’t care about you.” “I never said I thought I was special. I just said that he-“
“Y’know, Y/n? Maybe if you stopped doing whatever you wanted, and stopped throwing yourself at my friends, and thinking you’re special, I wouldn’t have to treat you like a fucking child. Because all you are to Satoru is my little sister, and it’ll always be that way.”
You froze, the words to defend yourself dying on your tongue. You did whatever you wanted? You threw yourself at his friends? You couldn’t even yell or anything.
Suguru wanted to eat his words. He rubbed his forehead. “Look, Y/n I didn’t mean.” “Fine. I won’t. I’ll just let my brother control my life from now on. Because at least Satoru showed up for me. Even if he pretended that I was special.”
You slammed your door to your room shut, and locked it, not wanting him to burst the door open. You threw the jacket onto your bed in a rage, only then to pick it up and neatly hang it, so you could iron it and give it to him the next time he came over.
While you were in the shower to get rid of the rain and the day, those words Suguru had bitterly said to you rung in your ears like a mantra while Gojo’s sweet voice whispered to you, bringing you comfort. If he truly was a fuckboy, then he was a sweet one.
But Suguru was right, you probably weren’t special to Satoru. He was just treating you nicely because you’ve sheltered him from the rain. It was like he was returning the favour. You were probably just a kid to him. He could never like someone like you. Yet you longed for his touch. Almost thinking of what if he was just behind you right now, your head on his chest like it had been so many other times.
But you quickly shook those thoughts away, thinking that it was just the outcome of never having even a sliver of a chance to date someone. All because of Suguru. But what did it matter to him? He says he was trying to keep you safe, but clearly not if he left you in the rain to fend for yourself until Satoru.
You stepped out of the shower, and you heard Suguru’s knocks. “Come on, look, I went a little far but you know how I feel about-“ you drowned the rest of his plea out, a pretty bad one so far it seemed.
You threw the towel in your hamper, with the intent to put it in the washing machine when Suguru stopped pestering you. As you brushed your hands off, the corner of a piece of paper caught your eye. Underneath your stuffie.
All these years of Suguru not letting you do anything, and you had listened. But you were sick and tired of him always ordering you around. None of your other friends had to deal with that. Hell, it wasn’t like he was a saint himself, he was a frat bro for fuck’s sake.
You unfolded the piece of paper, where there was Satoru’s scrawled writing with bad doodles everywhere along with cheesy jokes. You grabbed out your phone, now charging on your bedside table and instantly went to Satoru’s contact.
You:
“Has my free entry invite expired yet?”
Satoru:
“Hmm, I’ll let it slide this once.”
“I’ll see you there, I assume?”
You:
“What do I even do? Show Toji this letter?”
Satoru:
“That be hilarious.”
“Nah, I’ll wait for ya”
A day and a half later, after successfully sneaking out of the house, with a black mini dress paired with large hoops and bold makeup, you and Nobara had found Gojo standing outside, leaning against a wall and teasing his friend, and the makeshift bodyguard for the night.
As you got closer you could see that Toji was going to explode at somebody. “Aw come on Fushiguro, someone’s mad they can’t get some titties?” Satoru mockingly cooed. “I’m gonna fucking kill you one day,” he muttered, lighting a cigar. “Aw, what? Don’t have a hole in your heart or somethin, jeez.”
Satoru looked up and bounced towards you and Nobara. “Hey! Damn, you two! Yo, Toji! They’re good!” He gave a very optimistic thumbs up to which Toji sneered but let you two through.
The fog and blaring laser lights made it hard to see. You could see on one corner people dancing and making out, and the other was where there was a circle of people chanting around on whatever dare it was for spin the bottle.
“Y/n! I’m gonna look for our friends!” Nobara yelled over the loud music. Satoru was nowhere to be seen for now, due to your limited vision, so you went with her through shoving the crowd to find the kitchen, where Inumaki, Yuji Maki and Megumi were lounging like the meet up spot for every party.
“Oh good! Did you get Suguru’s permission or something?” Yuji said. “He doesn’t even know the party is happening.” Maki snorted. “What on earth are you wearing?” Nobara stared down. Yuji’s shirt. “Hey! Megumi said I looked good in it.” He shouted, while Megumi faintly blushed before shoving his best friend, “didn’t say that, just said that’s the only wearable thing you had.”
“Seriously? A “two seater” arrow t-shirt?” You chuckled. “At least Megs said it looked good!” Yuji pouted. “Is the food here drugs or actually food?” “I wouldn’t eat it if I were you guys.” Gojo suddenly popped out of nowhere.
“It literally isn’t hard to buy chips from the dollar store or something.” You argued. “Hey! Kamo’s got a side hustle. He needs money for this. His girl bakes while he just sprinkles in some of this, some of that.”
He stepped closer to you, giving you a thumbs up. “You alright?” You nodded. “Yeah, just used to my brother here I guess.” Satoru leaned down to meet your face, brushing away some hair. “If it gets too much, come find me. I’ll be nearby, alright?” You could feel your ears turn red when his fingers lightly grazed your cheek, all you could do was nod again.
You hated how he made you feel like this, like you were special. You weren’t, were you?
He ruffled your hair, and you complained, swatting his arm as he cackled away.
It was the middle of the party, late at night and more people, if that was possible, had showed up. It was mainly drunk and high people so far. You had danced and played ping pong with your friends, and carefully dodging weirdos around the party with ease.
Well, almost. As you were dancing with Nobara, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around, to see it was one of another frat members, you didn’t remember his name, but he looked awfully like someone Suguru had outwardly disliked.
“You wanna get out of here? Name’s Naoya.”You placed your hands in front of you and waved, to politely tell him no, but he was fucking persistent. “No? C’mon, playing hard to get? I’ll show ya a great time, y’know.” “Please, I’m okay.” He rolled his eyes and was about to grab your hand before you felt a protective arm on your waist.
“Back off, Zen’in. She’s a Geto.” Satoru sneered. You curled into him, seeking safety into him. The blonde man scoffed and crossed his arms. “What? Not like he’s here? It’s free game here man.” “Nah, she’s my girl.” Satoru casually said, with such ease you had to force yourself not to whip your head to him.
“You don’t do ‘my girls’, Gojo.” He tossed his hair. And Satoru’s grip on you tightened. “Fuck off Zen’in, I do now.” You watched the blonde walk off, storming and heard Satoru’s seething. “Hey, do you need a break? You alright?”
You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Yeah, just need a change of scenery I guess.” Satoru gave you a boyish smile, and it reminded you of his smile before he was a frat member. “You’ve never seen my room before, right? It’s pretty sick.”
With your approval, he guided you upstairs away from the party after you texted the group where you were going. You walked through the hallways until Satoru stopped at a door, with his and Sukuna’s name and swear words all over it from an old prank.
When you stepped into Gojo’s separate room, the air felt clearer, and more breathable. You placed your bag down and walked around his room, where posters and albums decorated the walls, and blue led lights lightly flickering. He threw himself onto his bed before sitting back up. “Whaddya think?”
“It’s.. a lot more neater than I expected.” You admit. He shifted his weight onto his knees on the mattress. “I try and clean it up whenever there’s someone important coming.” You moved closer towards the bed. “Yeah? Who’s that someone?” You teased, but a lilt of expectancy that it wasn’t- “well, you..” Satoru said softly.
“Are you just saying that?” You joked. But his expression stayed the same. “Nah, I mean it.” He patted the spot next to him and you hesitantly sat down, crossing your legs. He leaned over a little to reach the mini fridge on the ground beside his bed. “What juice box you want? I got apple, assortment, mango..I probably should throw that one out..""you don’t have drinks or stuff?” You asked surprised.
“Nope!” He said, popping the ‘p’. “I hate alcohol, period.” He gave you the juice box of your choice and he downed his in seconds before sighing, and throwing it, and it perfectly landed inside his small metal trash bin across the room. “Hey, can I tell you something?” You nodded, sipping the straw.
“I don’t really like my fuckboy title.” You straightened your back. “Its like part of your whole persona, though.” He chuckled, no true happiness to it though. “It means that a lot of people can’t trust me. Like your brother.”
“You’re his best friend, how would he not trust you?” He looked directly into your eyes, and raised his hands to your head, smoothing down some loose strands of hair. You leaned into it without realizing.
“He trusts me with a lot of things, just not with you. He never has, and never will.” “What.. what do you mean?” But you had somewhat of an idea he was hinting at. And he knew you knew. He grinned and tilted his head to the side before dramatically sighing. “Do I really have to spell it out for ya?”
His hand that rested on your head found your hand to guide it to his chin. You slightly gasped at the bold gesture. “Gojo-“ Y’know, I don’t like it when you call me Gojo. Like you don’t know me..” he murmured. He nuzzled into your hand and let go of his hand, and yours just stayed put, slightly caressing how soft his face was.
He sighed, his breath warming your palm. “I want you to call me Satoru.. I need you to call me Satoru.. or anything. Just stop acting that we’re just friends. Or we’re just mutuals. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Satoru…” you whispered, his name so foreign yet felt so right on your tongue. He groaned. “Fuck, sweets you don’t know what you do to me.” “Satoru if my-“ “I know.. but you’ll let me be greedy, yeah?”
You shifted a little, nodding eagerly with a little hesitancy. “You haven’t done this before, right?” He asked. You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He cradled your face, rubbing your cheek.
“It’s alright, you trust me, right?” And once you nodded, his lips found yours. You were frozen, unsure on what to do, until you felt him shift slightly to tell you to move with him. You pressed your lips back to him, letting out a tiny sigh.
His hands never left you, but moved from your face to your shoulders, then to your waist where his thumb slightly kneaded the skin. You pulled away to grasp for air. And to meet his face that gave you a reassuring smile. You blushed at his gaze, wanting to look away, but his index and thumb guided your chin back to him.
“If anything feels weird, tell me, alright?” And he kissed you again, but this time his tongue were prying your own open. You gasped but let him invade your mouth, meeting your tongue and swirling around.
You grabbed his shoulders for balance as he guided you down towards his soft mattress, and his hand creeping up your thighs and played with the hem of your small dress. You felt your skin rise slightly as his warm hands felt you.
He pulled back from the kiss, making you slightly whine. “Shh, yeah, I know, sweetheart.” You noticed the string of saliva connecting the both of you together, and he made no action to try and wipe it away, just letting it pull him close back to your mouth again to hover near your face. He toyed with the hem of your dress. “Can I?”
———
“Yes.” He pulled down your thin straps and tugged from there, leaving you in only a bra and soaked underwear, the black fabric even darker. You jolted when he rubbed the damp cotton with the pad of his two fingers. It was embarrassing how sensitive you were next to a pro.
“This for me?” He gave a smirk as the red on your face deepened. He moved to your thighs to kiss and nip at the skin, and made his way up, from your hips, to your waist and collarbone. Your legs were trembling as he held onto them. Finally, he unhooked the back of your bra and slowly took it off, like revealing a delicate gift.
The sudden cold air on your nipples made you shiver and hardened, while Satoru squished them, making you elicit a mewl you have never made. He flicked your nipples as your pupils widened, and mouth hung open. His hands were so soft and gentle.
“Sa..Satoru!” “So sensitive aren’t you?” You pouted and he laughed. “Fine fine, I’ll be nice, sort of.” You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in to tug on his T-shirt. “Yeah? Want it off?” “Shut up.” He raised his hands, still giggling before taking it off himself to reveal his abs.
He didn’t waste time by pulling your soaked panties off, and stuffing them in his pocket since you were too dazed to notice. He stuck his two fingers and rubbed your clothed clit inside your now bare pussy. You yelped as they sank down further before wriggling a little bit, and scissoring the gummy inner walls.
He could feel how wet you were, poor thing hadn’t been touched properly. “You don’t touch yourself or anything?” He rasped, in awe how someone could be this delicate. You shook your head fervently, head bobbing up to meet his eyes, filled with nothing but pure lust. “Never felt good…shit!”
He kept scooping around for your juices, and delving in deeper as your walks greedily sucked him in, causing him to groan. “Fuck, baby.. so soaked and all f’me?” You nodded, whimpering.
“Oh.. Sa..Satoru! Please! I.. feel weird!” “Nah, that’s normal. You’ve never had an orgasm before?” You were so close, buckling your hips to chase the feeling before it went away. “Please! Gonna cum!” “Then cum for me pretty girl.”
His words magically undid you, as you leaked on his sheets and coated his hand. You were almost mortified as he slowly retracted his fingers, thinking of how embarrassing it was to cum all over your brother’s best friend’s hand. But Satoru rubbed the liquid together on his fingers before sucking on it.
“Huh, sweet.” You were too high from bliss to fully realize how crazy he sounded. “Ready for round two?”
He unzipped his jean zipper that had hidden a massive bulge outline, but once he pulled his boxers down with his jeans, his massive cock sprung out, slapping his torso right in front of you. It leaked slightly, glistening while his tip was flushed an angry pink.
Your eyes widened, and his own glimmered in your distress. “Toru.. it’s not gonna-“ “it will. I’ll make sure of it sweets. You just lie there, and let me do all the work.
He shimmied off his pants and underwear before crawling on top of you, just to feel your lips again. You bit his lip almost so hard blood drew out, yet he didn’t care. Your hands roamed around his torso, tracing the lines of his defined body all the way to his hips.
He looked like a Greek god, with how perfect he seemed. His long lashes looked down at you, slightly covering the oceanic eyes that seemed calm until the storm.
“Tell me, you want this cock?” He whispered in your ear. You nodded. But he tutted, clicking his tongue, “ah ah. I need words.” And it felt like your whole vocabulary had been thrown out the window. “Need it! Need it so bad, Toru!” He groaned at the nickname and caressed your cheek before he lined up his cock into your whole.
You jolted when you felt his tip slightly touch around your puffy clit before finally hitting bullseye, and when it did you almost screamed. He was so big that it felt like he was going to tear you apart. You moaned sinfully loud, but the music downstairs was loud enough that nobody probably heard.
“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m only just startin’. Gonna kill me here.” His ivory damp hair covered his vision and he blew on it to see you better. You swore you must’ve looked like a mess. But all Satoru saw was the girl of his dreams, finally here with him after almost two decades of yearning for you.
Your face was bright red, mascara smudging on your eyes as tears from pure pleasure fell down your puffed cheeks. Your lips were parted, letting out beautiful moans like it was a melody. He brought your legs onto his hips as he sank down further.
Once he bottomed out, he moaned your name out, “fuck, baby, tell me I can move. I can move, yeah?” “Please!” He gripped your ass and slowly (almost painfully) moved up before slamming back down into you like a freight train.
You almost screamed there. And he moved into a better rhythm of going and and down, the sound of his cock slipping in and out of you jiggling. You felt the bed rock, and you gripped the sheets. You arched your hips up instinctively to chase the feeling.
“Fuck, you’re sucking me in, can barely move here.” He panted while your walls just greedily sucked him in, like it had no intention of letting him out. Your hair was tousled and spread all over his bed, while he slammed into you and retracted out.
Drool fell from your mouth and before you could even realize, Satoru caught it and kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough of your lips, the cherry lipgloss seeming like a drug to him.
“Toru! M’ so close… so so close..” “yeah? Fuck-me too..” “pull out!” You almost screamed from the overstimulation. You wanted him to stuff you, but you knew he couldn’t. “I will, don’t worry.” As he went in deeper and faster his grip on your thighs and ass tightened.
He kissed the side of your temple, cooing praises at you while you whimpered, nuzzling into his cheek. “So pretty, so cute, so perfect for me. You are aren’tcha?”
Your orgasm crashed down on you, leaving you half sobbing in pleasure and half screaming. Satoru pulled out quickly, and had his cum paint your stomach and his.
——-
The room was quiet other than your pants to recollect yourselves and the heavy bass music downstairs. Satoru watched you and admired how blissed out you were, lips swollen and cheeks pink.
He leaned in to litter soft kisses all over your forehead, cheeks and chin before your lips again, but not as rough. Only sweet, almost innocent compared to what you just did.
“So proud of you..” he murmured as he laid beside you, pulling you close into his embrace, into his chest. You curled inside of him, and he pulled his blanket up to cover your shivering body and his, although his warm heat radiating off of him was warming you up enough.
You tilted your head on his shoulder blade, and he brushed out your hair before nuzzling the top of your head again. He really liked nuzzling you, you noticed.
“You alright?” You hummed, too tired to form words. You laid there for another ten minutes, wanting to fall asleep, but kept fighting the drowsiness. Gojo watched you fight this losing battle before kissing your hairline.
“I’ll clean you up, you rest.” You felt the warmth leave you, as you turned your body to watch him stretch, and pad over to his closet and then bathroom, before coming back with lazily shrugged on sweatpants, a wet towel and a tshirt.
The mattress dipped with his weight as he crawled up to you, pulling off the blanket covering you and pressing the warm towel on you. You whimpered before getting used to the texture. He rubbed your stomach stained with his cum and then between your legs before lifting your back up to pull on his baggy shirt for you.
It smelled like him, despite how worn out it was. He laid you back down with him, and placed you on top of his bare chest. He hummed with satisfaction.
“I’ve always liked you, Y’know. Since we were kids.” He admitted quietly. “But all those girls..” “that was just me stupidly trying to get over you. Never worked, by the way.” You giggled, swatting his chest weakly.
“Your brother had one rule for me, and that was to not date you. Especially when we got into college.” “Why?” He sighed. You looked up at him. “Thought I was a bad influence. That I’d break your heart. And honestly, I thought I wasn’t for you either..”
He exhaled before speaking again. “I hang out with my group, have fucked more girls than I can count, I’ve said shit to girls, and.. you’re.. good, different.”
“I just don’t wanna fuck this up.” He said, almost scared, and unlike the cocky Gojo you’ve known your whole life. “But what about Suguru?” He ran his hand through his damp hair..
“I.. I don’t know. I can’t betray him like that.. but..” your heart sank. “Oh..” of course, he knew Suguru more than you did. That was his ride or die. So obviously, he’d pick Suguru over you, wouldn’t he? Stupid you for thinking you were special.
“I don’t wanna choose, Y’know that, sweetheart?” You didn’t wanna keep talking about it. “It’s fine. I’m sleepy..” you murmured. Satoru grimaced. He knew he shouldn’t have said that. But he held you a little tighter, covering your body until your neck as he pressed lazy kisses all over you to lull you to sleep.
He wanted you. So badly. And then.. there was your brother. He couldn’t have you. Satoru shouldn’t have you. You were right here with him, yet far far far out of reach.
He watched your body relax, soft breathing the exact same when he’s seen you trust him around your vulnerable state. Now this time, naked, in his bed.
He hated how he shouldn’t have done it. Because his heart said he should’ve, yet it hurt. For now, he just held onto this moment of cuddling you. Feeling every part of your body to remember. Inhaling your scent mixed in with his.
You didn’t notice all the calls that you missed from being on do not disturb. Neither did Gojo and his calls. Suguru was livid. He stared at the amount of calls that didn’t go through, almost like the calls you desperately tried making to him a few days prior.
You were woken up instead, by banging on the door. Heavy and angry knocks. And then, the door burst open, the light outside coming into the dark room. Satoru was awake, and immediately covered you with his body as you peeked from behind him. Suguru was there, panting, hair messed up and veins about to pop out of his skin.
“You wanna tell me why the fuck is my best friend and my little sister in bed together?” He asked, gritting his teeth. Your heart pounded in your head, and your grip on Satoru’s broad shoulders weakened. “Hey man, it’s not what you-“ “it isn’t? I mean, it’s pretty clear what I see.”
“Suguru, don’t-“ “you have no right to talk, Y/n.” He snapped. He never had snapped at you this way. It slightly scared you how his actions had drastically changed since this whole incident had started.
“Her dress is on the floor, The jacket she was wearing, she’s in your bed, the missed calls I’ve been making all night. It all makes sense Now.” You were mortified. Your older brother who had just put two and two together, and came to the conclusion that you and Satoru had sex was already gross enough.
Satoru stood out of bed, shirtless and tousled hair, while you followed suit, thank fuck for the oversized t-shirt he gave you. You nervously played with the hem of his shirt, legs still weak and your chest hurting. You could tell Suguru felt betrayed. You betrayed him. And that was the worst part.
“Why?” That’s all he said, Suguru was clearly too stunned, and hurt to say anything else. “I thought you two were my family. But now I don’t even know anymore.” He turned around. “I can report this for unregulated and illegal activity because I never gave actual consent to this, as the frat president. Let’s go, Y/n.”
He walked off, and your chest was still beating fast. It felt hard to swallow. You looked at Satoru who slumped his way and sat on the side of his bed. “Fuck.. this was a mistake.” He ran his fingers through his tangled hair. And those words struck hard.
“A mistake? I thought.. I thought you liked me?” You said hoarsely. “Just go home now. I fucked up, I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.” He was speaking in vague fragments right now. “So.. you’re saying you regret it? You regret what we just did?”
“Fucking go home, Y/n.” He repeated again, louder. He never said your name like that, nor was he ever mad at you. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “I see. It was all fake. You didn’t like me. Just needed to get laid or something.” You grabbed your dress and heels from the floor and snatched your purse on the bed.
“It was my fault thinking I was special. You just used me.” You choked, broken and with no filter. Satoru said nothing. Just heavily inhaled and exhaled. He couldn’t look at you. And you didn’t look back either. You closed the door quietly.
The party seemed to have scrambled after Suguru’s appearance. He was like a monster, it seemed. Suguru was in the car, eyes closed and head leaned back as his hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were pale.
You were so naive to think you were special.
You couldn’t even face Suguru so you opened his car door to the back seats. You watched his eyes flick over you through the rear mirror. “Fuckin’ Hell.” He murmured before driving off. The drive back to the apartment was too quiet.
You could tell that he kept staring at you like he didn’t know who you were. With stained makeup but the dewy afterglow, messed up hair, and hickeys littered all over your body.
He didn’t open the door for you, why would he? But he didn’t stay for you. He slammed his own door when you arrived in the underground parking and walked to the elevator. You followed suit, and refused to look him in the eyes, or even the face.For the first time in a while, you didn’t see him glued to his phone. Instead, he was gazing at the unappealing ground, deep in thought clearly.
The second the heavy door to your apartment opened and shut automatically, you knew you were done for.
He opened his mouth but closed it again, only sucking in some air and started laughing like this was all some joke. You felt like a little girl again, about to get yelled at by your parents.
“I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were.” You mumbled out, refusing to let him walk over you just yet. “Yeah? Then why? Why after I’ve told you countless times to not talk to boys, to not go to parties without me, and most of all, to not stay close to Satoru?”
Nothing. Silence. You had broken every single one of his rules he had laid out and indented into you since you were sixteen. With Satoru who the realization slowly crept onto you.. maybe you weren’t special. But you tried putting it aside, your stubbornness shining.
“And out of all the assholes you could’ve fucked, you chose Satoru.” “I know.” “-My best friend since forever.” “I know.” “The guy who I’ve warned you about your whole life. “I know.” You raised your voice slightly. “You don’t know!” He roared.
You stood there, Satoru’s shirt still draped over your body. You wanted to hide in it. “Do you realize how much I’ve done just to try and keep you safe?” He exhaled, fists clenching and unclenching in time with his deep breaths. “I wasn’t making you follow these rules for fun, or to distance you. I was doing them for you.” You couldn’t take it anymore. “How was this for me?!” You dropped your heels.
“Every single guy on campus knows I’m your sister, and that you’ll chop their heads off if they try getting close to me! I’m always the left out person who can’t go to parties or date in my friend group, and I listen to them laugh about the shit Itadori does, while I just try and smile and pretend that I wasn’t wishing I was there!”
You kept going, words and pent up emotions that had boiled in your turmoil of your head tumbling out of your mouth. “Guys my age and hell, older than me are scared of me because of you! So when one guy is finally giving me attention? Making me feel important? All of a sudden you can’t be happy for me?”
“Satoru doesn’t think you’re important. That’s the truth. He says that he’s liked a girl since whatever, gives her a deep talk, fucks her stupid and ghosts her not even a day later.” Suguru spat out. “When will you realize that he gives everyone attention? He’s the campus fuckboy, not your true love, not someone who likes you, and not someone who will ever like you.”
His words hang in the air. The buzz of the heater heated nothing but background noise so the pain didn’t seep in the apartment. “Thanks. Thanks for thinking I’m not capable for a guy like him.” You laughed, nothing funny to it, except your naivety and humiliation tied to you.
“Why now do you care when all you’ve done is confine me then completely hate on everyone when you had to deal with Fushiguro and his gambling?”
It was his turn to have nothing to say. You knew you were done. You picked up your heels, silently wincing at your strain on your legs, a haunted reminder of your poor decision for the night and headed to your room.
The next day of classes, it rained again. Not strong like a passionate love, but gloomy, with a gray sky and the way that made everything feel dull. There was no Satoru to drive you, not like you should want one, you suppose.
You hadn’t actually talked to Suguru the past weekend. Short and curt conversations met with one word answers. He had offered to drive you to school, and you were too tired to argue.
Suguru was stubborn. You knew this because it was always you who would have to break the silence. And it seemed like during the car ride to school, he was waiting for you to say something. But you just stared out the window, watching the raindrops hit and then leave your window.
“It’s gonna rain in the next few weeks. Make sure you wear warm clothes.” You hummed in dismissal, not wanting to entertain his light, strained conversation. He sighed. “Look, you can’t be mad at the whole world. I shouldn’t have said some things, but I don’t take back my words.”
“I’ll be mad if I want, or do you control my feelings too?” You snarkily retorted. “Let me be. I’m not talking to Gojo. That’s what you wanted, right?”
He parked in his reserved spot, that was at least one good thing riding with him. Your spread out campus caused you to have to take transit to your department, so you gave Suguru a muttered ‘don’t wait up’ and walked to the bus that was waiting for students.
Another two minutes passed, and you scrolled on your phone mindlessly, not registering anything you saw on your feed. All the words were held meaningless when you just read the word by itself.
Slowly, the bus piled up with students, and when the bus was about to drive off to its daily routine of around the campus and dorms nearby, it was suddenly halted by one more student, in a wet hoodie and damp hair.
You looked up instinctively and almost gasped audibly when you realized it was..Satoru?! You hoped that he wouldn’t notice you, but of course, the seat beside you was the ONLY seat available. Unless he’d stand..
“This seat taken?” You didn’t look at him. Just moved your bag to your lap and let him sit. “Hey, y/n..” “not now.” “Come on, please?” “No.” “Can you let me-“ “stop Gojo.” “I just need to explain-“ you whipped your head to him.
“Look, You don’t even take the bus, you have your sports car bought with daddy’s money. There’s nothing for you to explain. You’re just some rich brat who relies on one night stands and your looks with no personality just to get laid. You think it’s funny toying with girls and pretend nothing happened.” You snapped.
His jaw dropped slightly at your words. He slumped back on his seat. “Wow..” he quietly laughed. “Damn.. didn’t know you were carrying all of that hate for me. I came here to talk to you but I guess you don’t wanna talk.” He sounded hurt, and a part of you wanted to take back those words.
“I didn’t-“ “you did, y/n. I get it. You think I was just messin’ with you. But you don’t like me anymore.” He put his hood up to cover his damp hair. “Don’t blame you..I don’t like myself sometimes..”
The rest of the bus ride was silent, and uncomfortable. He got off on a stop before you, grabbing his bag and leaving without saying anything to you, except a look of hurt, and like he didn’t know you anymore. You didn’t know him anymore, or maybe even ever.
Your words replayed in your mind, and his face slowly fading by the second. He knew you knew his situation with his parents constantly kicking him out and switching up on him. The amount of times he’s had to crash at your place or the calls he tried taking in the closet where you could hear through the phone his parents yelling at him, was concerning, to say the least.
Meanwhile Satoru, he thought that you could resonate with him, due to your own parents.
Unlike any other day, he didn’t entertain or talk much during his walk to class. He gave slight waves to everyone who waved at him but didn’t go on. He settled in class beside his frat brother; Choso, who was always on time and always asleep.
“Fuck.. got way too high last night.” Choso groaned, getting up from his sleep and turning to Gojo, and ran his fingers through his black locks.
“My baby brother got laid last night.” He sleazed a grin. “They grow up so fast.. didn’t realize he swung the other way though.”
“Wait what?”
“Yeah, Toji’s younger brother. At least he’s a good influence on Yuji.” “Huh, good for him.” Satoru murmured. “You don’t.. you aren’t mad at your brother?” Choso frowned. “Nah, why would I? He can handle himself. S’long as he doesn’t touch my weed. Why?”
Satoru leaned back on his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I think I fucked up.” “Why? What’d you do?” “I fucked Suguru’s sister.”
Choso straightened. “Are you insane?” He hissed. “That’s why he found out about the party, right?”
Gojo sighed. “Y’think he’s mad at me?” Kamo snorted. “Gee, I don’t know. He’s only made one of the biggest commotion in the fraternity that his sister was off limits.” Satoru shoved Choso. “Alright, chill! Yeah, he’s mad at you. What about her?”
“She probably hates me. I don’t blame her.” “I don’t either.” Nanami walked in, actually prepared for his class. “Dude, you were supposed to distract Geto. What happened?” Kento rolled his eyes. “I was supposed to distract him from the party. I couldn’t do anything when my girlfriend was worried about Y/n Geto and called me frantically. She sees her as a little sister.”
“Respectfully, this wouldn’t happen if it wasn’t for your girl, Nanami.” The blonde clicked his tongue. “No, it wouldn’t have happened if you slept with her. My girlfriend was just scared.” And he walked off, sitting far far away from them, with good reason.
“How’s he still in the frat..” Kamo muttered. “No, he’s right. It is my fault. But God knows when the Getos want to talk to me again.”
——
“Yuji, please don’t tell them..” Megumi groaned, face buried in his hands and mortified as Yuji giggled about the ‘things’ that they did, slinging an arm around his now boyfriend’s shoulders.
“Yeah, you guys all owe me bubble tea. I told you it was gonna be at a party.” Nobara smirked triumphantly. “Tuna mayo.” Inumaki sighed, pretending to open his wallet, and realizing nothing was in it.
Megumi rolled his eyes but met where you were being too quiet. “What, you haven’t teased me this whole time. You doin’ alright?” “M’fine.” You mumbled.
Nobara grabbed your face dramatically. “You’re the worst liar I’ve seen.” “I lie better than Yuji.” You half heartedly protest. “We all do, he’s not part of the contest. But come on, tell us.” Maki pressed.
“Yeah, I want to change the subject.” Megumi raised his eyebrows and you give a sheepish smile. “Well, it’s still about getting laid…” you took an inhale for moral support. “I may or may not have had my first time with Gojo but my brother hates me now and I’m pretty sure Gojo was leading me on.” You said all in a mouthful.
There was pure silence until.. “the fuck did you just say?”
After explaining again about the recent weeks and about Satoru, you took a sip of your room temperature iced coffee. Ew.
“Damn, Suguru must wanna kill Satoru now.” Maki muttered as the rest of the group all processed it. Yuji seethed his teeth. “Listen, I’m telling you this because you’re my friend, but you do realize he is considered the fuckboy..right?”
You groan outwardly, slightly hitting your head on the wooden campus cafe table and burying yourself. “He said he’s liked me since childhood! And he told me he didn’t even like the frat life sometimes. Who stoops that low?”
“I mean I guess it’s weird why he specifically wanted you instead of the other chicks and hell, famous influencers at that party.” Kugisaki mused. “Salmon?” Inumaki asked.
“No, I still haven’t given back his jacket. But I already hated on him on the bus today, he doesn’t wanna hear from me again.” You sighed, blowing a messy strand of hair from your face.
“What’d you say?” “Nothing, just the fact that he’s an egotistical spoiled brat. Which is half true, but still kinda mean. I don’t know what to do.” “Do you still like him?” Maki asked quietly. You paused. Did you? “He probably doesn’t like me.”
“But I’m asking if you like him.”
“I’m.. I’m not sure anymore.”
——
Satoru knew his practice was shit, with Coach Yaga ridiculing him into doing wind sprints across the field. He didn’t even care, or make any joke the whole two hours. Your words from earlier had chanted in his ear like a mantra, and every time the meaning cut deeper. Not because he’d ever heard those words associated with him before, but because they came from you.
You were supposed to be Suguru’s baby sister. Not part of his world. And he dragged you in. No wonder you definitely loathed him. And there was someone else who must’ve loathed him at that moment. He could feel your brother’s sharp gaze on him as he ran across the field in front of the rest of the team.
Suguru’s jaw was ticking. The only time he’s seen his ‘best friend’ the whole day. And how he wanted to smash Satoru’s fucking face. If he was angry at you, he was absolutely seething at the thought of that sleazy grin beside a fucked out you.
When Yaga called the practice short, muttering off about ‘hopeless dumbasses’ the rest of the team, sweaty and covered in grass marks walked off, laughing while Satoru tried blending in the whole group. Suguru stalked behind, his fist clenching so hard his veins just might pop off.
Satoru was taking longer than the rest of the team, they all had yelled at him to hurry up before leaving. Satoru just stood at his gym locker, looking down at his shirtless torso. There was a hickey near his pec that was fading away, like it was also your way of leaving him. It was your hickey, well, you in your panic just held onto his pec a little too hard.
And before Satoru could register anything, he was punched right in the face by a flying fist. Satoru braced himself from falling off balance, being caught off guard and was met with Suguru who was red, eyes sharp and narrow as his eyebrows creased in an unusual shape for him.
Suguru grabbed his friend by his silver chain and slammed him against the lockers.
His usually calm expression was gone, replaced by bloodshot eyes and a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.
Suguru seized the silver chain around Satoru’s neck, fisting the fabric of his shirt with it, and slammed him hard against the row of lockers. The metal rattled loudly through the empty locker room.
“Tell me I went insane,” Suguru hissed. Satoru’s lip split against his teeth. “…You didn’t.” Suguru’s grip tightened. “You slept with my little sister.” There was Silence, maybe in the background a shower head leaking slightly for water drops to fall, to either break or increase the tension.
“Answer me!” “I slept with her, happy?.” And Another punch landed across Satoru’s cheek.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Suguru shouted. “She’s my sister!”Satoru wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, refusing to look away. “You think I don’t fucking know?” “Clearly not. You knew and you still did it?”
“Yeah.”
Suguru shoved him into the lockers again. “Were you high?” “No.” “Don’t tell me..Was she?” “…No, I didn’t let her near any of Choso’s shit.” Satoru answered too calmly for someone bleeding.
“So you both knew exactly what you were doing, and what you were doing to me.” Satoru stayed quiet. That silence was all Suguru needed.
His fist connected with Satoru’s ribs this time, Satoru suppressed his winces, refusing to back down. “Say something!” Suguru yelled and Satoru finally snapped.
“What do you want me to say?” “I don’t know, That it was a mistake!”
“It wasn’t.”
Suguru froze for half a second. Then he swung again.Satoru caught his wrist before the punch could land.“Enough.”
Suguru ripped his arm free.“Don’t touch me.”
“You came here to hit me, not to listen.”
“Yeah, that was my sister you fucked around with.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt her or you.”
“But You already did. She’s not talking to me, I’m not talking to her.”
Satoru’s jaw clenched.
“And whose fault is that? She made her own choice, Suguru.”
“Don’t stand there and act like this is some love story.” Suguru growled, patience waning.
“I’m not acting.” Suguru laughed bitterly. “Then we’re done.”
“Suguru—”
“Its like I never fucking knew who you were.”The words hung in the air, heavier than any punch he’d thrown. Your brother stormed off, leaving Satoru bruised and with a punctured lip.
“Fuck..” the ivory haired boy exhaled, sliding down the wall of lockers. What was he supposed to do?
What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t take back those words. And you refused to talk to Suguru. Not like he could help you anyways.
Thank goodness for your friends, since they practically barged into your room as you were wallowing in misery and regret and dragged you out of there, to Choso’s car, where he was in the front seat, tossing his keys.
“Hey Choso.” You waved at him. “Sheesh, you look higher than me, you alright?” You gave a tired smile. “Never been better. How’s Yuki?” He blushed and looked away, scratching the back of his head.
“Uh… well, you know what? The whole purpose of college is to learn and make friends and memories, not just love and you know-“ “she’s lesbian isn’t she?” “Fuck all of you.”
When you got to the mall, Nobara decided to drag you (and maki) towards a large clothing store. “See you guys on the other side! We’re going shopping!” She yelled to the others who were left behind. “I feel bad for Toge, he’s a third wheel now.” You murmured. “Toge will be fine, let’s talk about you! Retail therapy you know?”
Maki already went to her type of section so, it was just you and Nobara, who was making you try out clothes as she looked for more clothing. You stood in the booth, staring at yourself in the mirror. Nobara had picked out a light pink dress. The straps tied in bows and the ruffles barely to your thighs. It looked too small. “Nobara?” You called for her, hoping to ask for a bigger size.
You huffed after no response, drawing the curtain out where Nobara should’ve been sitting on the tiny seat across from your booth. You looked around, leaning a little. “Nobara?” You heard a low and predatory whistle behind you and you whipped around.
“Damn, ain’t a pretty thing like you so bold,I’ve seen you around .” A blonde haired man and unfortunately familiar face grinned. You crossed your arms around your chest, suddenly realizing how much cleavage the tiny dress had dared to expose. “Hey, don’t be shy now..”
“Fuck off.” You snapped, though a hint of your voice quivered. “Chill, what don't you remember me? I’m Maki's cousin?” He dared to step closer, and you stepped into the booth. But he drew the curtain to expose your booth.
“Get out!” You tried pushing him, but he held onto the doorframe. “Damn, someone’s feisty.” “Yo Zenin, she said to fuck off.” The blonde haired turned his head, to the familiar voice. “You again? What’s it to you, Gojo?” “That’s Geto’s sister there.” Satoru warned.
The Zen’in barked out a laugh. “Oh shit, she’s one of the girls you slept with? Fuck, no wonder Geto hates your ass.” You winced at his first sentence and Satoru’s fist clenched before shoving him. “Fuck off Naoya.” Naoya raised his hands, still flashing a cocky smile. “Yeah? It's not like she’s yours.”
“He’s with me.” You jumped in. Satoru’s grip on Naoya’s shirt loosened slightly. “So can you leave?” Naoya shoved Satoru before walking away, muttering “can’t get bitches nowadays.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, before looking up at Satoru, who seemed to have caught your eyes at the same time as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You alright?” “Yeah. Thanks..” “yeah, sure thing.” He looked away and that’s when you noticed a large bruise formed on his eyes, with his sunglasses covering them. “Hey, what happened on your eye?”
He slightly chuckled, no real laugh to it. “This? Got into a fight with Suguru. Nothing really.” “Satoru..” “y/n, it’s fine..” “no, I wanted to talk about what I said the other day? When I called you a rich-“ “hey, seriously, it’s fine. You’re right.” He turned around a little to not fully face you.
“You know what? I am cocky, I am a playboy, and you and Suguru has every reason to hate me.” “Satoru..” “I’m sorry, I should leave.” And before his back faced you he said one last thing. “You look beautiful as always.” And he walked off, hands in his hoodie pocket.
“Heyy! Oh my gosh, this dress looks-“ “I’m not buying it.” You interrupted your friend who finally came back. You were too drained, even retail therapy made you wake up.
You wanted to go home and cry.
Satoru wanted to go home and cry.
You wanted to have touched his bruise.
He would’ve let you.
You would’ve cradled his face, and scolded him.
He’d nuzzle in and chuckled at your banter.
You would’ve let him kiss you.
And he would’ve said everything that he wanted to say for the both of you.
Satoru couldn’t feel this way about a girl, he was Satoru Gojo the fuckboy. The king of parties. Yet he didn’t want to crash at a party today. He didn’t want to feel anyone else, if they weren’t you. All other girls he’d slept with were experienced, rough, and stupid on his dick.
You made it feel intimate, soft and loving. Not just sex, but every time he snuck around to talk to you. Going out of his way just to interact with you. It was raining again. Of course it was.
He was blocked on all platforms from you. Or Suguru. He didn’t know. Just knew that it was too quiet. He didn’t have his best friend to annoy, and he didn’t have you to keep awake on a Friday, now Saturday 2 am. He had his varsity jacket back, after you gave it back through a chain of people directly to him, though he wished you could’ve kept it.
He watched heavy rain land onto his window before sadly sliding down despite trying to grasp onto the glass. It oddly reminded him of his state. Just a couple days ago had he been hugging you on this bed. If he was crazy enough, he could faintly smell your scent on his bedsheets. No other girl’s perfume scent lasted this long.
Satoru’s phone beside him buzzed and he snatched it before sighing, realizing that no, it wasn’t who he was looking for. Just another instagram dump, and tags of people wishing that the party master was here.
Then, Satoru’s stomach growled. Loudly. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, he couldn’t fathom to eat anything. But he forced himself up. Nothing would probably be open right now, and he didn’t feel like driving. Well, the convenience store a few hundred meters down was.
He took the longer way out of the fraternity, not interested in interacting with the party and being held up. He took the slow elevator ride down, and put his hood up, despite the rain being not as gentle as he anticipated.
The walk was only a few minutes, he could survive. He popped an AirPod in and walked out of the building, with flashing lights and loud rave music that annoyed him at the moment.
He shivered, wishing he brought an umbrella, but didn’t turn back, didn’t let himself turn back. And finally he got to the 24/7 store. The sliding doors opened for him and jingled while the old lady on the register smiled at her. Satoru forced a smile and walked off before she could say anything. He felt bad but he didn’t want to entertain her.
He wandered around the sections, the sounds of the door sliding and the jingle it made followed along with the lady’s welcome as he walked around. Trying to find something easy to make.
Gojo went into the Ramen aisle, with countless types of brands and flavours until he found the pink Buldak one, your favourite-“Huh, I thought you can’t handle spice.” He whipped his head and his eyes found yours. You reached in to grab the packet you wanted.
“You’re still addicted to that hell?” He responded. You slightly smiled. “Careful, maybe I’ll make you eat it again and watch you cry.” “You wound me.” You looked up to see his damp hair, the part that wasn’t covered by the his hoodie from the rain.
“You’re soaked. What’re you doing here this late anyways? Isn’t there a party?” You added the last part with a mutter. “I.. I didn’t want to be there.. and I couldn’t sleep.” Satoru admitted sheepishly. Your eyebrows raised. “You.. you didn’t wanna go to a party.” You repeated. And Satoru shrugged. “Just couldn’t. What about you?”
You sighed, looking at the singular pink Buldak packet in your basket, along with a few other snacks, “same.. and I guess I just wanted some comfort food.” He nodded. “Fair enough. Is it too much to eat with you? Not that flavour though, hell no..” you chuckled, and Satoru’s heart missed a beat.
The two of you after paying sat down onto the stools the store provided. It was silent, as the two of you stirred the noodles from your bowls. His presence was comforting to you, but it felt so strained. “Hey..” Satoru broke the silence . You looked up at him.
“Are.. are we gonna keep pretending we’re strangers?”
You paused, staring into his eyes. Swirled like a tsunami in confusion, sadness, who knew? He then coughed, before sniffling into his hoodie sleeve. “God, you didn’t even bring an umberella or a car?”
He smiled tiredly. “Didn’t think it was too bad out.” Reluctantly you raised a hand out. And you hovered it near his face before you knew what you were doing. You searched his expression for a yes, before placing your warm hand onto his cold and damp cheek, slightly pink from either you or the chilliness.
And Satoru didn’t even notice himself nuzzling into your palm, releasing a relieved sigh. Droplets of water from his ivory locks dropped onto your hand, and you made no sign of pulling away.
“Are you gonna answer my question?” Satoru asked. You paused again, hand still on his cheek as he scooted closer. “Gojo..I.. I shouldn’t have said things like that.. I.. I was mad. Mad because I thought you were leading me on.”
“You had every right to.. I don’t blame you.” Satoru looked away. “Everyone I know, they told me to stay away from you, that I’d just get hurt. But I thought that maybe, maybe you saw me differently. It was stupid, but-“
“you were different. You still are. Who else have I let them stay in my room to get away from the party? Who else do I randomly pick up on the side of a highway? Who else makes me feel so numb I can’t even go to a fucking party?”
He leaned in closer. “Y/n, you don’t understand how long I’ve liked you for. How long I pretended that it was just a phase, despite the fact that I’m still not over it ten years later.” His hands found your thighs, his thumb rubbing your sweatpants. His hood fell off his hair, and his head found your shoulder, burying himself inside of it.
“Your brother hates me. I bet he’s always known I’ve had a crush on his sister. And I don’t blame him, since I’m just a fuckboy. Don’t hate me too.” “Toru..” his wavy hair dampened the shoulder of your hoodie, yet you could care less.
“Look at me.” You whispered. He rose up to meet you, and you could notice how his eyes were glossed as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I love you. Fuck, I’ve loved you for years. I’ve only wanted you, and I just couldn’t figure out how to deal with it. Don’t hate me. Please..” “I couldn’t ever hate you, Toru.” He sniffled, the bottom of his lips quivering as he nodded.
“God, I don’t know how to date. I haven’t done this before.. just hookups and the end, but I don't want an ‘end’ with you. I want to try for you..” you cradled his face before kissing him.
He immediately melted into the kiss, the same cherry lipgloss meeting his tastebuds again. Your hands found and wrapped his neck while his own found its place on the dip of your waist and behind your head, cradling it.
You finally pulled away, wanting to look at him. “Suguru.. he’ll fucking hate my guts. He won’t ever-“ “no.. I’ll talk sense into him. We can talk sense into him, I promise, sweetheart. I love you..” and he kissed you one more time. In the rain, inside a convenience store, over spicy ramen and hoodies at two in the morning.
the strongest (fake) boyfriend | gojo satoru x reader [one shot]
❀ pairing - gojo satoru x fem reader
❀ summary - all you needed was a fake boyfriend to get your family off your back. enter: gojo satoru. queue: corny rom-com movie.
❀ warnings/tags - 18+, canonverse, fake dating trope, clan politics/family drama, one bed trope, semi-public kissing, mutual pining (kinda), enemies to lovers (kinda), acquaintances to lovers (kinda), smut, plot with porn, cum play lite, vaginal sex, praise kink, dirty talk, reader pov, fluff, unprotected sex, kinda comedic if u squint, flirting but not rlly, creampie
❀ wc - 13.8k
a/n - hi guys! my first official one shot so pls be nice lol, its a lot i am a certified yapper i fear. saw this fanart of gojo and couldnt resist tbh hes so yummy, hope u all enjoy! creds to @/naznaz122 on x for fanart
smau link [x]
2012
The great hall feels almost suffocating as you quietly step in, footsteps drowned out by the sound of kimonos rustling and conversation as clan members drifted past in clusters. The lanterns hung, casting a glowing golden light over the polished wooden floors, light catching the wooden frame of carved screens. The air hung heavy with expectations and clan politics, something you’ve grown used to from years and years of attending similar events. A glance up at the railing along the stair landing reveals banners of crests hung, a heavy reminder of the bloodlines that are present tonight as the most powerful sorcerer clans in Kyoto met in this building.
You anxiously smooth the fabric on the sides of your kimono, inhaling a sharp breath as you begin to make your way through the crowd of elders. Most of them were involved in their own conversation, while you were already searching for an escape route before you could even hold a full conversation. Familiar faces of distant family members pass by, offering the very typical questions that always got the same rehearsed responses. A bow, a smile, a side hug while they bombard you with questions.
“Wow, you’ve grown up so beautifully.”
“Thank you,” accompanied by a respectful bow.
“How are your parents? Are they here tonight?”
“Yes, they are.” An excuse for an escape, “I’m actually looking for them now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“I haven’t seen you since you were thiis small.”
“It has been a long time,” they saw you no less than six months ago at the last clan gathering, but you offer a small smile anyway.
These questions were tamer in comparison to the,
“And have you found a suitor yet?” No
“Are you planning on settling down soon?” Definitely not
“You shouldn’t be taking all those solo missions, don’t you get lonely?” Not really no
Every question pricked under your skin like a tiny wooden splinter, just irritating enough to be difficult to dismiss, forcing you to hold your expression steady and tight and spit out some diplomatic yet vague answer.
Everything had always been decided for you from when you were young. When your clan discovered you had cursed energy during your adolescence, a switch had flipped, and suddenly the world felt like it was heavier around your small shoulders. The same sentiment followed through your teenage to young adult years, which led to where you found yourself now, running away to any extended assignments available to sorcerers of your level, anything that would relieve the feeling of being under the l/n clan’s thumb.
You hadn’t realized the tightness in your shoulders or the pursing of your lips until you found reprieve in the landing above the ballroom, shoulders dropping back and facial muscles relaxing. You lean against the carved railing, breathing out a slow, measured sigh as you watch the whirl of movement below, the taste of unspoken words sitting on your tongue. It felt heavy to be back in this room, the weight of familial pressure laid on your shoulders, and you were already looking forward to another assignment that would hopefully take up a decent amount of your time. The hall shimmered beneath you, full of laughter and calculated smiles. The exhaustion of being amongst the clan members hung over you like a dark cloud, but from up on the staircase landing, it felt easier to pretend this was all just a painting–flat, harmless, and far away.
A flicker of white catches your eye, and you glance over to your left. Six–maybe ten feet away– stood Gojo Satoru in a similar position, leaning over the railing. He raises his left hand in a lazy wave, barely flicking his wrist for the movement. You rest your cheek on your own shoulder and sigh, lifting your own hand back with hardly any energy. Social exhaustion had already set in, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to entertain Gojo Satoru at this moment. As if he can sense that fact, he saunters over in about three long steps.
“Madam l/n,” he drawls, grin crooked and voice teasing. You glance up at him as he occupies the space by your side, head tilting in mock formality, “Escaping your familial duties already?”
Your patience–already worn thin from the bombardment of personal questions in the hall below you–began to fray more than it already was. You purse your lips, “Don’t you have more important things to do, Gojo?” Your tone a bit more biting than you had initially intended.
If he noticed, he did nothing to show it, already tilting his head downwards at you, bright blue eyes glancing over the edge of his dark sunglasses frames. His grin widened, curling at the edge of his lips as he was ready to toss something flippant back until a shrill, familiar voice cut through the low hum of the crowd below.
“Oh! Is that my dear Y/N?”
You stiffened, turning halfway. Your aunt beams at you, rapidly approaching with a tall man at her side who is already moving towards Gojo. He claps a strong hand on the sorcerer’s shoulder that would have made you flinch but Gojo remains still, offering a warm smile to your aunt and to who you presume to be his relative. The man announces himself as a distant uncle to him and earnestly shakes your hand.
“What an unexpected–but lovely–couple!” his low voice booms.
You blink. The implication regarding just how unexpected your pairing would be almost makes you roll your eyes because you presume it has absolutely nothing to do with Gojo so much as it has everything to do with you.
A man chooses not to be involved in a relationship and throws himself into his work, he’s seen as an independent leader who’s focused on his career but when you do it, you’re a reckless, immature girl who’s probably gonna die alone, or even worse, won’t pass on inherited clan techniques.
Your aunt clasps her hands together, nodding along eagerly, ”Truly, what a beautiful couple!” Then, in a lower tone as she leans into you, “Posture, dear.”
The urge to roll your eyes comes back along with a sharp snap of irritation that burns your throat–which you swallow down and will your shoulders back and your spine straight– until you realize the context of the conversation. Couple. Your first instinct is to vehemently deny until a thought pops up in your head.
From the corner of your eye, Gojo lifts both hands in an easy denial, fingertips pointed toward the coffered ceiling and a respectful smile on his mouth, uttering the words, “Oh, no, you’ve got the wrong ide-”
Before he could finish, your arm shoots out, looping through the crook of his arm and taking just the smallest step closer to his body. An unnaturally wide and tight smile on your face as you chirp, “Thank you!” You will your eyes forward and glance between both his uncle and your aunt, who have a pleasantly surprised expression on their faces. “It’s … um … a new development?” Your voice cracking against your will.
You risk a glance over and up at him and find that he’s already peering down at you behind his sunglasses. You look up at him with almost pleading eyes, still tightly attached to the crook of his arm and stiff as ever. You almost miss the way his stiff smile fades, his expression faltering before a wide grin finds its way on his face easily, delight glinting in his gaze.
He effortlessly pulls you just the tiniest bit closer, “Thank you, Miss L/N, Uncle,” he says smoothly, “We haven’t had the chance to properly come out as a couple yet, so tonight seemed perfect, didn’t it?”
Your pulse stutters at the sudden closeness, the heat from his arm searing into the hand you had wrapped around his bicep. Gojo easily steers the conversation, laughing with his uncle and trading polite quips with your aunt, who briefly places a hand on his arm while laughing at a joke he made. For once, you’ve found yourself quiet, watching how they were both so easily charmed by his confidence and relaxed demeanor.
It’s not until your aunt pats your arm, cooing at you both, that you realize you’ve tuned out the entire conversation. “It was so nice to see you both,” she smiles and reaches to pinch your cheeks and you begrudgingly let her, “especially together,” she tacks on with a sly wink at you.
You blinked, a beat too late, before chirping back, “Nice to see you both as well!” As your aunt and his uncle drift back and blend into the crowd, you hesitantly turn your head up towards the sorcerer to your right. Gojo is already looking at you with a crooked grin and blue eyes glinting with mischief. A beat. You immediately move to untangle your arm from his like he was on fire, heat prickling your face.
“Wooww,” he draws out, voice teasing, “Who knew little Miss L/N has been secretly in love with me this whole time?”
You huff in response, smoothing down the material of your sleeve as if brushing off the contact and returning to your usual posture. You’ve known Satoru your entire life but you could hardly count him as a family friend or even someone you grew up with. You saw him at the occasional clan gathering, similar to the one tonight, and it became less and less frequent as the two of you got older. Your training got more and more intensive, especially once you started reaching your teenage years and from what you heard, he was shipped off to Tokyo to study at a specialized Jujutsu school. But, on the rare occasion when you did see him, he was nothing short of the worst migraine you’ve ever experienced.
Gojo leans back against the railing again, clearly unbothered, tucking his hands into the wide sleeves of his haori. “Y’know,” he starts and the urge to roll your eyes comes back. You should really stop that. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m not really on the market for a wife right now,” he pauses to look down to make eye contact with you, grin curling a bit wider, “And, trust me, I get it and I’m sure you’re devastated right now which, in all fairness, makes sense. I mean, I’m tall, the strongest sorcerer, strikingly handsome, charming—“
You wrinkle your nose, scrunching up your face in disgust. “Ew, be serious,” you mutter, allowing yourself to roll your eyes for the first time tonight. “I just needed them to leave me alone.” You cross your arms over your chest despite the restraint from your kimono. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in, your shoulders relaxing with the exhale.
A beat.
“Thank you,” you say a little quietly, struggling to make eye contact with Gojo.
He blinks at you, presumably a bit surprised by the sudden change in your rather tense attitude. “You’re welcome.”
-
Soft sunlight peeks through the blinds of your Tokyo apartment as the violent buzzing of your phone vibrating against the nightstand pulls you from your sleep. After a long night of fighting a rather difficult curse, it would be nice to be allowed to sleep in. Your eye is already twitching from irritation as you groggily fumble for your phone. You squint at the brightly glowing screen, tapping the answer button before pressing it into your ear.
“Hello?” Your voice rasped, thick with sleep. Squinting again, you pull it from your ear to double-check the caller ID when the sound of your mother’s voice blaring through the phone speaker shocked you.
“Y/N!”
You wince at the sound, jerking the phone further from your ear. You peel some hair stuck to your cheek from sleep as her words begin to blur together in a tirade far too fast-paced for your still half-dreaming brain to comprehend. You rub your free hand over your face again, attempting to rub the sleep away so you can at least try to make sense of the noise. It sounds like a jumble of nonsense to your half awake consciousness, something about your father and the clan, something else about—
“—seeing Gojo Satoru—“
And that causes your eyes to snap open. You’re fully awake and shoot up in bed, blanket slipping from your shoulders onto your lap. “What?” you ask almost incredulously. You’re simultaneously shocked and confused, unsure of where she could’ve heard something so outrageous. “I’m not—“
Oh. Oh.
You think of the chandelier-lit ballroom, your aunt’s shrill voice and his uncle’s booming laugh. You had honestly only planned to use Gojo as some sort of scapegoat, an out to the otherwise nagging conversation you would have had with your aunt. It was such a ridiculous conversation that you had honestly completely disregarded the entire situation the second you walked away rather awkwardly. And now it’s all coming back to bite you in the ass.
You press the phone mic to your shoulder to cover your childlike tantrum as much as you could while you groaned and kicked the blanket off your body. You look at the time. 8:12 am. Definitely too early for you to deal with all of this right now.
“Y/N, are you listening?” your mom’s voice snaps, drawing your attention back to the conversation, utter disbelief in her tone, “I just cannot believe you didn’t tell us you were seeing Gojo Satoru out of all people!”
“Yeah, Mom,” you clear your throat, trying to will the rasp from sleep away. “I- um- it’s really nothing serious. I don’t even know if you could call it … seeing each other.”
Which, technically, wasn’t a lie. You definitely couldn’t call it seeing each other.
“Don’t be silly, y/n,” your mother shot back immediately. You start to tune her out again while she rattles off. Something about settling down, finding a suitor, having an heir, passing on the clan’s cursed technique. You stare at the space on your wall, mostly focused on how you’re planning on handling the Gojo situation while your mom continues on about clan politics sandwiched between personal criticism.
You sigh, breaking her lecture, “Okay, mom, I have to go.” Your fingers absentmindedly rub your temples as they threaten to split open.
“Alright, sweetie. Bye, love you! Don’t forget!”
You blinked. “…Forget what?”
“Dinner with the Gojos!”
The line went dead before you could protest. You fall backwards onto the bed, dropping your arm with the heavy weight of the phone onto the bed, both arms fully extended. You comb your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame the mess that sat on top of your head, letting out a deep exhale. You stare at the ceiling as if it would offer some sort of divine intervention and at this point, you really hope the sky would open up and swallow you whole.
Dinner. With the Gojos.
You sit up again as an almost outrageous idea came to you. Not quite divine intervention, but you’ll take it.
-
The cafe was overstimulating to say the least. The pastel colored walls, decorated with hand-painted fruit, were enough to give you a headache, but paired with the little white lace doilies under the plates, it was all a bit overwhelming. The display case near the register was littered with intricately decorated cakes, and the smell of sickeningly sweet desserts clung thick in the air. Yet somehow, you were not surprised that this was Gojo Satoru’s meeting spot of choice.
You sit across from him at a small heart-shaped table that hardly has enough leg room for you, let alone a six-foot-three freak. You look at the plate in front of Gojo, a white and baby blue elaborately frosted cake slice, adorned with sliced strawberries. He’s already got a fork in hand. You glance down at the drink in front of you, colorful swirls and whipped cream stacked high in one of those warped, wavy milkshake cups. You absentmindedly begin to use the plastic straw to swirl the drink around, mixing the bright colors into something muddy.
You blink at Gojo across from you. “You like this place?” you mutter, unable to hide the genuine surprise behind your voice. He’s practically beaming at the slice of cake in front of him, and you watch as he moves the piece of cake on the fork to his mouth. He lets out a dramatic hum of pure enjoyment and you can tell his eyes are shut behind his sunglasses.
“Oh yeah,” he manages to get out between chews, nodding as he’s still chewing. “Had a girl take me here once.”
You want to roll your eyes. Of course, he had. You could practically see her now–head over heels and hopeful, probably so excited to take him to what was likely one of her favorite cafes in Tokyo just for him to eventually dump her. And then, in typical Gojo fashion, he stole it from her and claimed it as his own. That poor girl probably never set foot in here again, nursing her wounded pride every time she unfortunately had to pass this street corner. All because the cafe was forever branded with his name now. Like a man would. You feel bad for the girl.
You watch as he shovels another bite of cake into his mouth, blissfully unbothered, and let out a sigh. “Word got out that we’re dating,” you lower your voice, raising your fingers to do air quotations, “Which, by the way, was probably from your uncle.” That just gets you a nonchalant shrug from Gojo. “Anyways, I was just thinking-”
“Ooh, dangerous,” he teases, mischief glinting in his eyes over the rim of his sunglasses.
“Look,” you continue, ignoring his comment and crossing your arms over your chest, “And please don’t let this go to your head but I feel like this may work.” He sets his fork down with a soft clink, one eyebrow tipped upwards. “I just,” you glance around the cafe, refusing to make eye contact, “It just gets a little exhausting, y’know? Everyone’s so focused on clan politics and passing on cursed techniques. I just kinda want everyone off my back and it worked in that conversation with my aunt so maybe if we just.. I don’t know,” you take a sharp inhale, “pretend to date–just for a little while–they’ll back off.”
You purse your lips as he looks at you, expression almost unreadable, nodding silently while you talk. You start fidgeting in your seat a little, hands toying with the lace doily placed under your slowly melting drink. “And only for a short amount of time. And then we can have some crazy natural-disaster-level breakup and they’ll never bother us again.” You add the last part for drama.
Surprisingly, he listens without interrupting and you almost want to make a comment but decide to bite your tongue. He leans back in his chair, relaxed and shrugs, “Okay. Let’s do it.”
You blink, a little caught off guard, fully expecting some theatrics from him. “That’s it…?”
“Mm,” he hums, shrugging and draping an arm over the back of his chair. “Simple enough.”
“It’s not simple.” You scoff, a little defensive.
“Isn’t it?” He suggests easily, eyebrows raised in mock curiosity.
Something about his response causes irritation to prick under your skin. You tighten your crossed arms around yourself, “Well, no, it’s not. There’s… um,” you purse your lips again, glancing down at the table before making eye contact with him again, “I have terms and conditions.”
A lopsided grin finds its way onto his mouth, “Okay. Shoot.”
“No touching,” you state firmly.
He hums again, tilting his head to the side a bit, finger tapping his chin as if he were in deep thought about a world-shattering problem. “Kinda hard to be fake dating if we can’t touch.”
You open your mouth, and then close. You hadn’t thought about that. Frankly, you hadn’t really put much thought into any details about this entire situation. “...Fine. But don’t go getting any ideas.” You narrow your eyes at him accusingly.
“Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn't.” He practically drawls his words mockingly and the irritation is back. You almost want to snap at him, asking what he meant by that, but instead you choose to roll your eyes, which, unfortunately, gets a chuckle out of him.
“And we only appear at clan-related events together. No extra stuff.”
“Okay,” he replies easily, too easily, that same playful smile tugging at his mouth.
“…And I get to break up with you.”
That earns a real laugh out of him, bright and unrestrained. “Is that really realistic? C’mon.”
You scoff, refusing to even dignify that with a response and take an angry sip from your straw.
“Alright, alright,” he lifts both hands in mock defense, fingertips pointed to the ceiling, “I suppose you can break up with me.”
“Okay,” you say, chin tilted high, satisfaction curling in your chest for some reason.
“Alright.”
“Okay.”
“Do you always need to have the last word?” he asks in that same teasing tone that you’re really starting to hate.
“Yes.”
-
The first time you and Gojo play couple is at your family home in Kyoto, a month after your scheme. You’ve honestly been trying to figure out how to get out of it for weeks but to no avail so there you find yourself sitting beside Gojo at the long, low table on a zabuton cushion. The shoji screens had been pushed open to reveal the carefully manicured gardens outside, allowing a welcome breeze to enter the room. Every elder, clan higher-up, even distant relatives with any sort of valuable opinion sit lining the table, stiff posture furthering the heaviness of formality in the air.
You sit on your knees, hands placed in your lap, twiddling your fingernails to anchor yourself somehow. Meanwhile, beside you, Satoru is fully lounging, long legs stretched out comfortably under the table and one elbow propped up lazily on the edge, supporting his chin. His sunglasses catch the warm glow of the lantern light, hiding his eyes but you can practically feel his stare. The first course comes out, a clear soup with vegetables, and you accept it graciously, hoping that it gives your nervous hands something to do. As you raise the soup spoon up, the voice of an elder cuts through the quiet clinking of porcelain.
“y/n, didn’t you grow up with Satoru?” he questions. Technically, you had but you would hardly consider each other acquaintances. Even now, as you sit practically shoulder to shoulder with him, you wonder if you could even call yourselves acquaintances. “What brought you two together so suddenly?”
You pause, lowering the bowl back to the table. Your brain is scrambling for anything even remotely acceptable to say. “Uh,” you manage to squeak out, “It was pretty sudden for me too. I guess, when you know, you know?” You glance over at Gojo who still has a lazy tilt to his head, hoping for rescue from your weak answer.
“Mm,” Gojo hums, tipping his head back like he was considering the question seriously, “I like to think she’s had a crush on me since we were kids, but it took her until now to come to terms with the fact that she’s been in love with me this whole time.”
Your pulse spikes and you whip your head toward him. He has nothing to offer you but a lazy, playful grin. You give the elders a tight-lipped smile in agreement and return to your bowl. You hear some soft murmurs echo around the table and you’re unsure what the general consensus is.
You’re nearly finished with your soup by the time another elder speaks up, “Do you think your kids will inherit limitless like Gojo or the l/n clan’s technique?”
The question about kids has you almost choking on your soup but Gojo answers smoothly, “We’ll be happy with either one.” You nod along, not trusting your voice after nearly swallowing a carrot.
By the time the second course arrives, the conversation has drifted from you and Gojo and there’s now the low hum of everyone engaged in their own private conversations. The servers bring out a new set of plates with slices of sashimi. You reach for your chopsticks and unfortunately, make the mistake of making eye contact with Gojo next to you. He’s already got a happy smile on his face, chopsticks in one hand.
“Open up, my sweet princess,” he commands, far too loudly. Your eyes widen in surprise as he begins to lift a piece, moving it towards you with exaggeration. You worriedly glance around the table where all eyes are now locked on the two of you, silence falling on the room. You can feel the heat pricking at the back of your neck, rising to your ears, a nervous smile twitching your lips. More murmurs are going around the table. You hesitantly allow him to feed you the piece of sashimi, pursing your lips as you chew. You can hear your mother’s delighted aww from a few seats down but you’re more focused on the rather disapproving look on the elders’ faces.
You pinch his leg under the table, hard. He doesn’t flinch.
As conversation begins to pick back up around the room and the elders return to discussing training reports and cursed technique theory, the room begins to buzz again with low, polite chatter. You lean into Gojo, eyes darting around the room, voice low and sharp, “What are you doing?” You grit out.
“Getting them to disapprove,” he murmurs back, chewing happily. What a glutton. You frown. “Working great though, don’t you think?” You figure it’s a decent plan. If the elders think the two of you are inappropriate and disapprove, it’d be a much easier out than staging some elaborate breakup. Gojo gives you no time to respond before he’s curling up his thumb and pointer finger to pinch your cheek. He coos at you loudly, which earns more stares from everyone seated at the table. You jerk back, eyebrows furrowing at him which only earns you an obnoxious laugh.
You settle back into your seat and go back to eating the meal in front of you, a little frustrated. You really feel like he’s enjoying himself far too much and suspect he may be having more fun messing with you than actually following through with his plans.
The third course comes out and at this point, you’re more focused on what outrageous scheme Gojo may have planned next rather than the actual food. The next plate of food is placed in front of you and as you’re leaning in to take your first bite, Gojo leans over and places a wet, sloppy kiss on your cheek, paired with an obnoxious smooch noise. And there it is, he is definitely having too much fun with this.
But you figure it must’ve done its job because the table immediately ripples with scandalized murmurs and you’re sure you hear the word “improper” being thrown around somewhere. You throw him something of a fake smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and you know he understands the sentiment behind it when he flashes back a crooked smile, teeth showing.
Once the table had been cleared, both you and Gojo seemed to be under the impression that you had acted just the perfect amount of provocatively to stir some troubling thoughts with the clan elders in both of your families. That is, until you’re approached by an elder bearing a bright smile, “I have never seen a couple so perfectly balanced.” Your smile fades. You shoot Gojo a look. “How sweet of you to feed her, Satoru. Usually it’s the woman who cares more about the man but it’s clear that it goes both ways. You really are the yin to her yang.”
Your smile is fixed, tight, and as respectful as you can make it, until the elder rejoins the crowd. You’re surprised to be approached by several others who are practically singing your praises.
You ground him. He’s so attentive, feeding you and fussing over you. He brings out your responsible side. Your love feels so authentic and natural. How promising a match you two are. How wonderful a union between the two clans must be. Everyone is so hopeful for an heir from your union.
You turn to face Gojo once the dinner guests stop approaching the two of you. He has the audacity to look rather pleased with himself meanwhile your pulse is thrumming in your ears. You let out a slow exhale through your nose, forcing your shoulders to relax. You’re a bit more than mildly annoyed that Gojo’s plan backfired, which is really your fault for listening to him in the first place.
But… maybe this would be better. If everyone really thought you were this dazzling couple then hopefully the “breakup” would be so devastating and messy that your family would be kept at bay for years.
-
The Zenin estate is ornate and maybe even gaudy to say the least, with polished stone walls and a courtyard garden with gravel raked into harsh, perfect lines that brought you more anxiety than peace. If your family home seems to be suffocating with expectations, the Zenin home would have asphyxiated you. A few weeks following the Gojo and l/n clan dinner, the Zenins are hosting their own banquet of sorts. You slip into the estate, peering at the guests who have already begun mingling. You’re hardly a few steps in before a porcelain sake cup is handed to you, giving you something to do with your hands. You down the drink the second it’s in your hand. You need something in your system if you’re planning on getting through tonight.
You’re lingering near the edge of the room, nursing your second beverage, eyes glancing around the room. The hum of conversation fills the room, everyone speaking in low voices and you can’t seem to tell if they’re just pleasantries or complicated clan politics. You feel the shift in the air before you hear the voice.
“y/n.”
You turn to find Naoya Zenin approaching, unhurried steps and a sharp smile. Almost fox-like.
“Naoya,” you acknowledge, lips curving into the most polite smile you could manage. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You’ve really grown into yourself,” he says. You feel his gaze sweeping over you and you suddenly feel exposed. Gross. Your eyes glance over to the exit, wanting to leave. “Beautiful, really. I almost didn’t recognize you at first.”
You purse your lips as he takes a step closer. You resist the urge to take a step back to put some space between the two of you. His posture is casual, relaxed, but the way his gaze lingers, floating on your figure makes your skin crawl. An attendee passing by replaces your empty cup with a new one. You sip on it awkwardly.
“Strange, isn’t it?” he speaks smoothly, “You’re here alone–er, with me rather and Gojo is nowhere to be found.” You curse Gojo for his habit of always being late. You awkwardly shift your weight on your feet, watching as his smile deepens.
Before you’re able to respond, he lets out a low chuckle. “So sudden though, you and him.” He leans in a little closer. “Wouldn’t you say?” Your body stiffens and you’re scrambling to find something–anything to say in response when a familiar voice cuts clean through the air from behind you.
“Sorry, I’m a bit late.”
Relief slams through your body and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Gojo’s presence left the room significantly quieter than before as you watch him approaching you and Naoya, moving through the crowd as though everyone bends around his existence. He slides into place beside you effortlessly, as if he just belonged. His arm finds its way around the small of your back, his hand resting firmly on your waist, steady and grounding. You don’t think you’ve ever been so relieved to see him before.
He looks down at you from behind his dark sunglasses, peeking over them. His eyes, pale blue and warm, were almost a comfort after your rather agonizing experience with Naoya.
“You look stunning,” His voice softens, gaze locking with yours. His thumb rubs against your waist. “Did you wait long?” Your pulse stumbles, for some strange reason. You’re hoping the dim lamp lighting would do a good enough job at concealing the heat rushing to your neck and ears before you could steel it. You open your mouth but nothing comes out so you just shake your head, dumbly.
He finally averts his gaze ahead of you, a small grin present on his face. “Naoya.”
“Satoru.” Naoya acknowledges, his smile shrinking and his eyes narrowing just slightly.
“I really hope you weren’t saying anything untoward to y/n.” Gojo’s tone comes off as easy, almost playful and you wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it wasn’t for his hand tightening on your waist just the slightest bit, still gentle but did not go unnoticed by Naoya if his eyes flickering downwards meant anything.
Naoya lets out an easy chuckle, low and dismissive. “Of course not, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The silence that follows is deafeningly loud. A clash of ego, sharp and invisible, their gazes are locked in a battle of wills that makes the air feel taut. You could practically cut the tension with a knife. You clear your throat, unsure of what to do and settle on shifting awkwardly where you stood.
Gojo breaks the silence with a light pat of his free hand to Naoya’s shoulder, casual grin returning to his face. “Good talk, bud. y/n and I have a few more people to check in with.” His hand still firm at your waist, he steers you away, effectively tucking you into his side like it was your assigned spot. His touch is practically a searing heat through the layers of fabric of your clothing. With your pulse hammering, you down your second drink. You’ll definitely need more of these with the way the night was going so far. You take another drink from a passing by attendee and tip your head back, ignoring the sting of the sake in your throat as you let Gojo lead you into the crowd.
The two of you were making easy small talk with passing clan members, which you will attribute to Gojo. As much as you hate to admit it, he actually could be very charismatic despite his arrogance and his tendency to make everything a joke. A majority of the questions revolve around both of your latest missions, inquiries about your relationship with Gojo, those ones mostly you handle because you don’t trust him after what happened last time, and updates on your family. You try to give as vague and polite answers while Gojo keeps the conversation light, throwing in quips here and there and you notice that everyone seems to find him quite charming. The stiff conversations begin to feel a bit suffocating so you find yourself sipping at sake simply to relieve some tension.
“Slow down,” he whispers, teasingly, leaning down so close you can feel the ghost of his breath against your ear. You stiffen, heat crawling up your neck that you write off as a result of the alcohol. You nudge him with your elbow, hearing him hum at your lack of response, and turn your attention back to the conversation at hand.
The sun set outside some time ago and while the alcohol is doing its purpose in making you feel somewhat lighter in the stuffy environment, your shoes are currently pinching at your feet, causing painful, grating steps as you become tense from the repetitive conversations.
“C’mon,” Gojo murmurs, tilting his head toward the garden just beyond the open shoji screens. You let him lead you outside, hand still floating on your waist. You’re grateful he noticed your discomfort. The cool night air feels heavenly against your flushed skin, the gentle breeze more than welcome.
You both step off the veranda into the soft grass of the garden. You slip out of your shoes, leaving them abandoned in the grass beside you. Instant relief floods your feet and you’re too happy to feel your toes in the grass. You reach over, lifting a foot to rub at your arches.
“Here,” Gojo says, extending an arm out to you.
You grab on automatically, using him to steady yourself as you knead at your foot. “Thanks,” you respond, glancing up at him briefly, “for this. And for saving me. Again.”
He throws back a grin, tilting his head up to the sky as a light breeze passes by, “All in a day’s work of a fake boyfriend.” He shrugs casually. A laugh slips out of you, looser and freer than you normally would be sober. You watch his grin grow a bit wider at the sound of your laugh.
You remove your hold of his arm, satisfied with the work you’ve put into relieving the aching soles of your feet. As you straighten to place both feet on the grass, you nearly lose your balance, whether it’s from the alcohol or the uneven ground.
Gojo’s hand is instantly at the small of your back, steadying you, his touch warm and firm. Your breath catches and you freeze, looking up at him. His warm hand felt like it was practically burning a hole into your already flushed skin.
A beat.
“You can… let go of me now,” you speak softly, voice lacking the usual bite that comes with speaking to him.
His eyes widen for a second before he retracts his hand. He recovers with a teasing grin, “So clumsy, I thought I told you to slow down on the sake.”
You huff in response, feigning annoyance but the rapid heartbeat in your chest is betraying you. You make a vow to never drink around him again if this is how you’re going to be around him under the influence. Your eyes wander over to the hall, glinting brightly into the night through the open screens where you notice a few groups of clan members looking out into the garden at you and Gojo.
Gojo’s eyes follow your gaze and he takes a step closer to you, hands on your hips, urging you forward. He pulls you into him, just enough that your bodies are nearly brushing, the sudden movement has you bracing against him, both palms resting flat on his chest. You ignore the firm muscle you feel under your hands and focus instead on the steady thrum of his heartbeat. That doesn’t help.
“They’re watching,” he murmurs to you, voice pitched low. Your eyes are on him now and even in the darkness, you can still see his bright blue eyes. You nod in response, a bit breathless. From the alcohol, you tell yourself.
One of his hands remains on your hip, anchoring you there while the other lifts to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek. You’re certain you must be absolutely flushed and you’re more than thankful it’s so dark outside.
“I- The rules- No touching!” you barely manage to squeak out. This earns you a chuckle from him, low and warm.
“Okay,” he responds easily, dropping his hand from your cheek to your hip. But he doesn’t make any movements to remove his hands from your hip.
You flick your gaze sideways, back towards the hall where there are still watching eyes. Naoya is among them, his stare sharp and smug, watching from the shadows. You think of the audacity he has to insinuate that you and Satoru were lying about your relationship, regardless of how true his assumption was. You also think of his disgusting, lustful gaze, objectifying you like you were a piece of meat. The thought makes your blood boil again, the memory of his smug smirk burned into your mind and hot in your chest, judgment clouded by liquor and pride.
“Kiss me.”
Gojo blinks. “What?” he asks, incredulously.
“Don’t make me say it again,” you mumble, lifting your chin stubbornly.
You use your grip on the fabric on his chest to gently tug him down, closing the distance by getting on the tip of your toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. It’s all very clumsy and maybe even a bit awkward. Since you pulled him into it, your lips aren’t quite aligned and you almost fall into him but he steadies you, both hands tightening their hold on your hips. Once he has you steadied, he leans down into the kiss and deepens it, one hand traveling from your hip to the small of your back where he splays out his hand to press your body to his. Your hands slide up his chest to loop around his neck and you almost want to open your eyes to take a peek into the estate to see if there were still any prying eyes.
You finally pull back, settling back flat on your feet and suddenly you’re no longer feeling the effects of the alcohol. You clear your throat, afraid to make eye contact so you avert your gaze over to the hall where everyone has seemingly scattered from where they were gathered, watching the two of you.
“They’re gone now.”
-
The inside of your Tokyo apartment is currently in a state of disarray but you choose to blame it on the back to back missions you’ve been getting, which has also been affecting your sleep. You’re sitting on the floor of your bedroom, half-heartedly packing clothes. You know that you should have started packing sooner but you’ve been running on fumes for the last two weeks and to be quite honest, you didn’t even feel like thinking about the onsen trip your mom sprung on you.
You will admit you regret procrastinating especially because—you glance at the clock, it reads 8:02am—Gojo is supposed to be here any minute now. You can also admit that another reason you’ve been burying the trip in the back of your mind is because you and Gojo left off on a rather awkward note—at least for you. You had kissed. You could only be thankful that he acted so nonchalant about it after that it diffused some of the tension. Besides, it was your idea and it made sense in the grand scheme of things. That along with the fact that it was nearly two months ago brought you some semblance of peace.
You fold a set of pajamas into your bag. Aside from the kiss, you aren’t absolutely dreading having Satoru there like how you’re dreading a family trip. He can be funny sometimes, despite annoying you the other half of the time. Even though he’s a headache, he’s been making these clan events a lot easier on you. People like him and that means he took up a lot of attention in a room, which meant less of it smothering you.
Your familiar ringtone goes off from the living room so you trudge over there, barely having the energy to make it. Gojo Satoru. Of course he’s someone who would rather call than text.
“Hello?” You pick up your phone, holding it to your ear.
“Your chariot awaits!” Gojo’s voice blares through the phone. You’re too tired to berate him about yelling so early in the morning.
“The chariot will have to keep waiting,” you sigh into the phone, moving towards the bathroom with the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder. “I’m still packing.”
“And you say I’m not punctual,” he teases.
“You can wait inside,” you suggest, before adding, “if you want.” You hear some shuffling in the background that you ignore, turning your attention to packing your toiletries into a pouch.
There’s a knock on the door that you hear echo through your phone. You pad over to the door, swinging it open to find Satoru leaning casually against the door frame. You end the call and slide your phone into the pockets of your sweats, stepping aside so he can come in. He toes off his shoes at the door.
“I’m almost done, I’ll be quick.” you state, “You can, um, have a seat on the couch.” And then shuffle over to your bedroom. Again, inviting him in was technically your idea but something about having him in your apartment felt so unexpectedly… intimate.
He sat on your couch, sprawled out, taking up the entire space with his long legs stretched out beneath your coffee table. You glance at him as you’re moving around your apartment, gathering everything you’ll need to pack for the weekend. It seems like he’s playing Temple Run or something similar, volume up so you’re able to hear the theme music. He would play games with his volume up.
You mentally go over your packing list, making sure you weren’t forgetting anything before you’re lugging the duffel out into the living room from your phone. When you finally zip it out and start moving towards the door, Gojo pops up easily to follow you. You shut the door behind the two of you and start fumbling with your keys to lock the door, duffel weighing heavy on one shoulder. He plucks the bag from your arm, swinging it over his own shoulder.
“Thanks,” you say automatically, locking the door and pocketing the key. You realize the word is so familiar now, that you’ve been saying it a lot around him. It’s almost replaced your urge to roll your eyes around him all the time.
Downstairs, the morning air is still crisp and the sun is getting a bit higher. The city moves loudly around the two of you. You watch as he sets your duffle bag into the trunk beside his as you slide into the passenger seat.
“Thanks for driving,” you offer as you reach over to buckle your seatbelt. “You really didn’t have to.”
“And what kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” he shoots back, grinning at you as he takes his place in the driver’s seat. You snort, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
The first half hour goes back fairly quickly. The hum of traffic mixing with whatever playlist Gojo has playing in the background keeps the the time flowing and by then, you’re ready to catch up on some much needed sleep. You have your chin resting on your fist and your head leaned against the window. The city is now melted into stretches of highway and the sun is higher in the sky now, warming the car through the window and your eyes begin to feel heavy.
You swear your eyes were only closed for a second before—
“Let’s play a game.”
Your eyes snap open. There’s that urge to roll your eyes again. You lift your head from the window and turn it the slightest bit, just enough that you’re able to glare at him from the corner of your eyes. “I’m tired, Satoru.”
“You can have your rest and relaxation at the onsen,” he responds cheerfully. For some reason you highly doubt that to be true. “The game is: name all the things you like about me.”
A laugh rips through you, bursting out before you could even try to stop it. “Oh, you cannot be serious.”
“Go on,” he encourages, tilting his head towards you. “I’ll even start the list if you need help—number one, devastatingly handsome.”
That gets another laugh out of you and this time you do roll your eyes at him. “Hmm,” you pretend to think. “I like when you’re quiet,” you tease, settling your head back against window and closing your eyes.
He barks out a laugh in response and you peek your eyes at him. “That’s never happened before, you can only say things that are hard, true facts.” You make a mental note that means he thinks that being “devastatingly handsome” is a hard, true fact.
-
The rest of the car ride goes by fairly quickly once Gojo decides to focus instead on the playlist he has playing. The quiet ryokan lobby smells like polished wood. The woman behind the counter smiles politely as you approach the desk. She slides a lacquered key across the counter after you give her the reservation details your mom had sent you earlier. You murmur a thank-you, slipping the key into your palm. You turn to walk towards the rooms and you can feel Gojo’s presence behind you, duffle bags slung over each shoulder. He walks behind you, his slow long strides making up for your fast smaller ones.
“I can carry it myself, y’know,” you mutter, glancing back at him. He’s very committed to this boyfriend bit.
“I know.”
The hallway stretches out, long and quiet, with sliding doors on either side. You can feel the warmth from the faint steam curling from somewhere deeper in the inn. You find your room number and slide the door open, stepping onto the tatami. You toe off your shoes and leave them by the door. A low table sits in the middle of the room, a teapot resting between two teacups, and two cushions below the table. Gojo leaves the duffels near the cabinets and starts to circle around the room.
You kneel next to your duffel, fishing for your toiletries bag, while Gojo starts opening up every drawer and cabinet in the hotel room. Once you’ve found the bag, you pad over to the bathroom, sliding the doors open. You hear the sound of the veranda doors sliding open.
“Ooo–look, we get our own onsen,” you hear Gojo calling from just outside the doors.
“Nice,” you call over your shoulder absentmindedly, distracted by unpacking your toiletries bag. Once you place your toothbrush and shower products in their respective areas, you peek out from the bathroom to see what he was talking about. You see steam rising from a private stone bath from behind the doors. You blink. The image of sharing the onsen with him flashes through your mind.
“Don’t go getting any ideas.”
You disappear behind the bathroom door to get ready for the planned dinner banquet that your mother had told you about. You tie yourself into the pale green yukata that was provided, sash snug across your waist. Once you think you look presentable enough for your prickly family members, you slide the door open, smoothing down the folds in your yukata.
You’re met with Gojo on the other side of the door, facing the other way so he can adjust the sleeve of his matching dark blue yukata. He tugs on it lazily, collar gaping just enough to show his collarbones. A grin twitches on his face the second he turns to see you.
“Cute.”
You shoot him a flat look. “Don’t.”
You move around him, stuffing your feet into the provided sandals. You see him grab the room key from the corner of your eye before shutting the door behind the two of you. You make your way through the polished hallway with him following closely behind. As you approach the banquet hall you pause, mostly to collect yourself but when you look up at him, he extends his elbow toward you. You blink and take his arm, feeling grateful to have him here to calm your nerves.
The room is buzzing with conversation as the two of you step past the open shoji doors. The low long tables stretch across the room, porcelain bowls with broth placed at every seat. The smell of incense mixed with food fills the air and you don’t realize you’re actually starving until your stomach growls as a reaction. You take a seat on one of the cushions, Gojo sliding into the one next to you. You smooth your yukata over your knees to give your hands something to do.
Your aunt from across the table leans forward, “How was your last assignment, y/n?” She offers you and Gojo a small smile.
You blink, expecting a question with a little more bite. “Oh, um, fine,” you’re careful with your response because you’re a bit caught off guard.
“That’s good,” her eyes soften as she glances between you and Gojo. “I’m glad you’re keeping busy.” While you’re sitting stiffly, Gojo is beside you, nonchalantly picking up a piece of food with his chopsticks. “And you, Gojo? Keeping yourself busy?
“Oh yeah,” he nods, leaning back easily. He sets his chopsticks down on the rest. “Lots of exorcisms, paperwork, and now I get dragged along to family trips.” He grins, teeth flashing, and puts his free hand over the one you had resting on the table, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. For some reason, this felt more intimate than the kiss even. You look up at him but his eyes aren’t on yours; they’re looking around the room, holding eye contact as he’s engaged in conversation.
The meal unfolds with a rhythm that you aren’t used to–calm, almost pleasant. The constant questions regarding your relationship have dwindled; no one is reprimanding you for not settling down, for constantly going on long missions, it was–for the first time ever–not stressful.
After the dinner ends, you and Gojo shuffle back to your room, bidding everyone a good night. He slides the shoji door shut softly behind him, muffling the chatter of your family members down the hall. The room is quiet now, dark since the sun has long set so the lanterns cast warm, glowing light against the tatami and pushed-together futon. You blink when you see it, one large blanket spread across the whole thing.
“Cozy,” Gojo says from behind you, his tone teasing. You turn sharply and you’re unsure what the look you give him holds but he follows with, “Uh–I can sleep on the tatami mat if you want.”
You huff at the suggestion. “It’s fine,” you start tugging your pajama set from your bag, “We’re both adults.” Once you free your pajamas from the duffle and start moving toward the bathroom, you glance over your shoulder, “No touching!” You warn, narrowing your eyes at him as you slide the bathroom door shut.
“Don’t worry,” you hear his low voice come from some distance behind the door, paired with a chuckle, low and soft, the kind that curls around your ribs for some reason. “I wouldn’t.” You roll your eyes at that.
You take your time in the shower, letting the steam fill the small space and the hot water melts some of the stiffness from your muscles. You have your hair pulled back with a fluffy headband as you step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in the ryokan’s soft towel. You step to the mirror to do your skincare, applying the moisturizer to your skin when you figure it would be a shame not to use the private onsen.
You peek past the bathroom doors once the towel is secure around you, “Gojo?” you call out softly. The room is empty, the futons remaining untouched.
Silence.
He probably left to grab some sweets since there weren’t any desserts at the dinner. That glutton. You pad over across the tatami, pushing aside the door to the veranda letting steam drift into the room. You look down and see him, leaning against the stone edge of the bath, facing you. His white hair was damp, curling lightly at the ends, and you watch as a droplet falls from his hair and cascades down the sharp plane of his shoulder. It looks soft.
You blink. “Hey–I was gonna use it.” You tighten your grip on your towel instinctively.
He looks up at you, his nonchalant demeanor seeping through his words, “Well, I got here first.” You’re sure he just enjoys messing with you at this point.
“Okay.” You respond, glancing around the veranda. You choose to focus your vision on the bamboo wall built to close off the onsen from the rest of the inn. “Get out.”
“Wow, harsh,” he chuckles, as if truly surprised you were being so demanding. He leans back further against the stone edge, “We’re both adults, right?” His tone is playful, like he’s looking to get a rise out of you by using your words against you. You refuse.
You press your lips together in a thin line, “Fine.” You close the sliding door behind you and take step further near the onsen. “But close your eyes.”
He sighs dramatically. “Yes, ma’am.” For once, he’s not wearing his sunglasses and you watch as he raises his hands to place them over his eyes. “See? Perfect gentleman.”
You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you and you place your towel to the side, heart pounding in your ears as the cool night air kisses your bare skin. You slip into the steaming water, grimacing as the heat wraps around you. You sink down, allowing the heat to rise up to your chest and shoulders, soothing your muscles. The surface of the water laps at your collarbones as your move into the onsen, finding a seat across from Gojo.
“You can look now,” you mumble, grumpily, once you’re sure the water is fully covering your body. You fold your arms across your front for extra security.
A chuckle comes from him before he drops his hands lazily from his face. The dim lamplight cast shadows along the planes of his chest and shoulders and even worse, his pale blue eyes seem almost different beneath the light. You feel your stomach twist. You shift against the stone edge, tearing your eyes away from him and towards to surface of the water, like you’re suddenly very interested in the ripples.
After a moment, you swallow hard and drag your gaze back up, willing yourself to stare off into the distance, admiring the greenery.
The steam curls around the two of you in lazy ribbons, softening the lantern light as the sound of cicadas fill the night. Your body is lowered, tucking your knees to your chest and the water is grazing just below your knees. You rest your chin on your knees, glancing at Gojo from across the bath. He’s sprawled wide, both arms outstretched resting on the edge and his damp hair sticking up in all directions, defying gravity.
“Hey,” you say, voice low, “when I asked you to fake date me—“
Gojo’s face snaps into a sly grin instantly, “Oh, you mean when you begged and pleaded and cried for my hand in marriage?”
You snort, rolling your eyes and you move your knees from your chest to splash water at him. “No, you freak.” Laughter bubbles out of you, slipping before you can contain it. He shifts to dodge the splash of water.
The smile on your face settles a bit and you lean by against the stone again, looking up into the sky, “Why did you agree so easily?”
His grin softens, he’s silent for a second before, “To be honest? I don’t know.” You give him a deadpan look. “I guess…” he starts tapping his fingers lightly on the stone where his arm rests, “You just seemed so—serious about it. And it’s really no sweat off my back to help you out.”
You feel your chest tightening and you hum, breaking eye contact with Gojo to trace mindless patterns on the stone. “Yeah,” you breathe out, “it just gets really exhausting sometimes?” You can’t seem to look him in the eyes, “Just feels like there’s so much pressure to settle down, produce an heir–it’s all just so… old-fashioned. It feels like I’m just my ability first, someone to maintain the gene pool, a sorcerer second, and… myself, last.” Your voice cracks so you look away again.
Your words hang heavy in the mist. For a while, the only sound is the faint ripple of water between you. You wonder if you just overshared, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.
When you finally glance back at him, his eyes are already on you, soft and unguarded.
“I get that.” And it sounds sincere.
You clear your throat, still feeling a little awkward. “Anyways,” you splash at the water, trying to clear up the tension, “Enough trauma dumping.”
“Could’ve been worse,” Gojo grins, “At least you weren’t crying on my strong, broad shoulder.” You snort and flick water at him. You look down at your hands and see that the skin at your fingertips is starting to wrinkle.
“I’m gonna start getting ready for bed,” you start moving towards the edge of the bath, “No peeking.” You narrow your eyes at him pointedly. He grins and puts his hands up in mock defense then goes to cover his eyes. You climb out of the onsen, unable to hide the smile creeping up on your face.
By the time you step out of the bathroom, fully dressed in your pajama set, Gojo is already moving around the room, towel hanging loosely around his neck. He uses to towel to rub at his damp hair. You stand there, arms limp by your side, lifting up one foot to rub at the other ankle. You pad over to the side of the futon furthest from the door and start shuffling under the covers, laying flat on your back, tucking the fluffy blanket under both arms.
You hear him snort from across the room, “You sleep like a vampire.”
“I just haven’t gotten comfortable yet,” you shoot back defensively. You hear some shuffling, the towel hitting the tatami flooring as he drops it onto the floor in a careless heap, and then he’s sliding under the covers beside you. You’re a little nervous to make eye contact so you keep your focus on the ceiling. You feel him stretching beside you, extending his limbs out obnoxiously before he tucks himself in with a long, content sigh.
For a while, it’s quiet aside from the sound of cicadas humming outside.
“Sooo,” Gojo drawls, “you ever fake break up with someone before?”
You don’t turn your head, just huff through your nose in amusement, lip twitching. “What kind of question is that?”
“I’m just saying,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “If we’re doing this right, we should go all out. Something really dramatic, like in public, tears, maybe I should throw myself on my knees.”
You snort, “Such a performer, you’re enjoying this too much.”
“I’d be such a good fake ex too,” you can feel him nodding, the rustle of his damp hair against the pillow, “The best, actually. You’d definitely come crawling back.”
You let out a small laugh at his confidence. “Yeah right, you wish.”
You hear the futon rustling beside you as he shifts positions. “I’d get flowers delivered to your house everyday, huge, ridiculous bouquets. Everyone would think I was obsessed with you.”
“Yeah and obnoxious,” you add. “They’d probably wonder how horrible of a boyfriend you were to me too.”
He squawks at that, defensive, “Fake news. I’m the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.”
“You’re the only fake boyfriend I’ve ever had, Satoru.”
“See? The bar is mine to set.” he says in response. That gets him a laugh, one that bubbles out from your chest.
There’s another moment of silence, only the sound of his gentle breathing filling the air. “Y’know,” you start, “I used to think you were really annoying.”
“Oh yeah?”
You nod in response, “We barely saw each other and everytime we did, you would always mess with me.”
“Hey! You used to steal my Digimon cards, you were just jealous.” he sneers, teasing you.
You laugh again, “That was only once! And it was only because you stole my kikufuku.”
He hums beside you, probably thinking about how delicious your stolen dessert was. “And what about now?”
You pretend to think about it, humming, “Still pretty annoying.”
He lets out a laugh from his belly and you can feel his shoulders shaking with his laugh.
Another beat of comfortable silence. You shuffle a bit to get comfortable, pulling the blanket over your shoulder and roll over to your side, only to find him already facing you. Your eyes widen for a second. His pale hair is tussled, falling haphazardly across his forehead and even in the dark, it seems like his eyes are glowing.
You blink. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he whispers back, voice low.
He’s so handsome like this, in the low light of the night. He looks so soft like there’s no Gojo reputation here, no expectation of being the strongest, just Satoru. He looks almost boy-like.
Your mind flickers, against your will, to the younger version of him. The boy who you only saw every so often but would tease you relentlessly, annoy you with his arrogance from across the room. Such a pest.
And he’s still doing it. Your thoughts are interrupted when his long fingers reach out and pinch at your cheek.
“Hey!” You protest, jerking your face away simultaneously as you shove his arm away, “I said no touching!”
You angrily jab a finger into his cheek. “You said no touching!” he moves to swat your hand away and you push him again in retaliation, hoisting your body up on your elbow for leverage. He shoves you again, using his entire upper body for momentum, laughing in your face obnoxiously as you fall backwards. You rise so you’re balancing on your knees, eye level with him again and place both arms on his shoulders to shove. His hand grabs onto your elbow for support and you’re falling forward with him. You catch yourself from toppling over him against the futon, grinning in victory once you have him pinned down.
He’s looking up at you, eyes widening a bit in surprise, messy hair falling onto his forehead and the pillow below him. You have your knees caging him in at either side of his hips, arms on either side of his head. Your breath stutters and you push yourself up so you’re in a seated position, sliding back a bit until you feel something beneath you.
“I-uh,” you stammer, eyes wide to match his. You’re in a very compromising position and you try to ignore the heaviness beneat you. “Sorry.” You breath out and you’re almost frozen in place. You both stare at each other for a second, chests heaving and you’re not sure if it’s from the fighting or from where you’ve both found yourselves.
His hands raise to your hips and he pushes himself upwards, capturing your lips with his. Your body stiffens for a second, heart racing and you wonder if he can feel it when you both fall back, your fronts pressed together. His lips are warm and soft. The sheer intent in the way he’s kissing you is enough to make your head spin. He tilts his head, his hands tightening their grip on your waist as he deepens the kiss. Your hands curl at his chest, gripping onto the fabric of his t-shirt like it’s a life line.
The kiss is hot and insistent, messy in a way that makes your stomach lurch and you’re clinging onto him desperately. The futon shuffles as he moves beneath you and as your hips sink flush against his, you feel him. You rock against him without thinking about it, mostly because you’re a little curious and his hands on your hips encourage the movement. His tongue slides against your lips and you tilt your head, allowing him in. He hums into the kiss, clearly pleased, and the sound shoots straight through you to your core. One hand leaves your waist and slides up to the small of your back, fingers splaying to press you closer to him, your bodies flush.
You roll your hips again, purely experimentally and it suddenly makes sense why he acts the way he does when you feel him, hard under the thin layers of fabric separating you. The friction is almost blinding. A broken sound comes from your throat and he swallows the sound eagerly. His hands travel down until they’re over the plush of your ass and you feel him squeeze, groaning into your mouth, the sound raw and unrestrained.
Your head gets a little bigger with the thought that Satoru Gojo, probably one of the hottest people you’ve ever seen, is getting this worked up over you. His hands are everywhere, squeezing gently at your thighs before moving up over your ass and up your back.
Your pulse is roaring in your ears. He sits up a bit, moving you with him as you continue moving your lips against his. He moves the two of you until you’ve got your back pressed against the futon. He pulls away, breaking the kiss, foreheads knocking together clumsily as your breaths hit each others face, warm and rapid. His eyes, blown wide and vibrant blue, search yours for a second. He pulls back a bit further, watching you now splayed out underneath him, your chest heaving as you’re still trying to catch your breath.
You only give yourself a few more second to breath before your arms are looping around his neck, pulling him back down to catch his mouth in another kiss.
He starts dragging his lips along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of wet kisses. The air feels cold on your flushed skin as he moves along your neck. Each kiss he leaves sends a shockwave of heat, sparking low in your stomach. One of his hands rest on your thigh while the other slips under your shirt and higher, skimming along your ribs and wrapping around, right under your tit.
He groans, the low sound vibrates against your skin. Your back arches into him as he kisses and nips at the exposed line of your collarbone, lips travelling down the edge of your pajama neckline. Heat shoots through you.
You move your hands down from his neck, palms sliding against the expanse of his back, feeling the solid muscle moving under thin cotton, then up past his defined biceps to his broad shoulders, the fabric bunching with every shift. He’s a lot more muscular than you had thought, strong muscle hidden under his usual baggy clothes. You feel the need to feel him without the layer of fabric in your way.
“Satoru,” you barely manage to get out, voice quiet and breathy, tugging at the hemline of his shirt, “Take it off.”
You hear the mischievous grin before you see it, feeling the edges of his lips curling against your skin and he stills for a second, “Oooh bossy,” he lifts his head from your chest, “Kinda hot.”
You roll your eyes and almost say something snarky in response but he sits back on his heels, the air nipping at your skin where your bodies were flush, and in one smooth motion, peels his shirt over his head. The fabric drops forgotten to the floor and he’s bare above you, hard muscles illuminated by the low light from outside the room window.
Your breath catches. Long lines of muscle cut sharp and you watch as the hard planes of his chest rise and fall steadily with his breathing. You swallow, eyes dragging over him before you could stop yourself. You force yourself to tear your eyes away, leaning your body upright to tug the thin fabric of your sleep shirt over your head and you toss it to the side.
Gojo’s gaze drops instantly and you feel the heat rising up your neck. “My eyes are up here,” you say as dryly as you can muster.
He hums in response, his strikingly azure eyes drag up slowly, “Don’t worry, I like those too.”
You don’t have time to come up with a snarky retort because his mouth is back on you, your words catching in your throat. The both of you fall backwards onto the futon, his hand pinned beneath your back and the futon since he had tried to soften your fall.
His mouth travels down again, leaving hot and wet kisses in its wake, to the swell of your chest, teeth nipping lightly at the skin. His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, causing you to arch your back into his body. His free hand slides higher, palm cupping firmly around your breast, thumb brushing over the nub. Each flick of his tongue sends sparks shooting through you as you clutch helplessly at the strong lines of his back, feeling the flex of muscle under your fingertips.
His hand slips lower, dragging down your bare stomach, past the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your breath hitches as he pushes aside the fabric of your panties, calloused fingers spreading you open. Your entire body jolts when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, delibrate circles. His thumb drags from your opening and then back up to your clit. “Fuck,” he groans against your tit, teeth grazing on the sensitive skin as his thumb works you lazily, “you’re so wet.”
You writhe beneath him, “More,” you gasp into the air, hips curling up to meet his hand.
“So demanding,” he pulls back from your chest just enough to glance up, lazy grin on his face, “Maybe ask nicely.”
You groan at that, jerking your hips again, “You’re really gonna make me ask?”
His thumb slows until it’s barely moving, the sharp absence makes you whine, head tipping back against the pillow. You want to strangle him. He’d probably like that, masochistic bastard.
“Fuck–” you groan again, “I hate you.” You squeeze your eyes shut, “Please, Satoru.”
“Please, what?” he teases, tone smug with delight. He starts moving his thumb again, painfully slowly.
“Please, more,” you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t currently completely overcome by the agonizing need to cum right now. “Please make me cum.”
He hums in response, grin widening against your skin and his hand shifts lower, one long finger presses inside you, sliding out at an easy pace. The stretch is delicious. You let out another whine, arching into him. His mouth returns to yours, catching your whine in a deep, hungry kiss, drinking in the sound. You moan into the kiss as he curls his finger, dragging against the spot inside you that makes your thighs clench. His thumb circles your clit, moving faster, more deliberate than before.
“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips, his voice rough and shaky. “Can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” His words go straight to our core and you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders, leaving crescent shaped imprints in his smooth skin as you grind down against his hand. He slides a second finger into you and you welcome the stretch as he quickens his pace, thumb rubbing stars at your clit. You openly moan, unable to hold back, and he swallows the sounds you make. Your body trembles against his as his body covers yours wholly.
“Satoru,” you breathe out, “I’m gonna–”
“Yeah?” he pants into your mouth, kissing you harder, lips moving against yours. “Let me feel you, baby.”
Your back bows from the futon, toes curling as pleasure rips through you. Your legs threaten to clamp shut, he uses his other arm to curl under your leg, pinning it where it is. You break the kiss, head tipping back, eyes screwed shut as your orgasm tears through your chest and down your spine. He slows down as your body shudders against him, your death grip on his shoulders loosening.
He slides his fingers out and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. Your vision is still coming back when he brings his hand up to you, two fingers glistening with your release. He has that lopsided grin on again.
“Open.”
You mindlessly do so, his fingers slide past your lips, and your tongue swirls around them instinctively, tasting yourself. Your cheeks heat under his gaze. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, satisfied smile on your face when he finds they’re now clean. Your chest is heaving as you look at him–really look at him, lips swollen, pupils blown wide, hair sticking up in all directions, he looks so desperate for you and it’s really doing something for your ego.
“Satoru,” you pant, “I need you, now.” He freezes for a second, eyes widening before he moves quickly, fumbling with the waistband of his pajama pants, nearly falling over in his haste. Meanwhile, you’re faring no better as you shimmy out of your shorts as fast as your trembling body allows, pulling your panties down with them.
Your heart is hammering in your chest as he falls forward above you again, bracing himself on his elbows, the warm skin of his body pressing on yours. Your gaze drops helplessly, your breath catching as he pumps himself, thick and heavy in his hand. Oh. Suddenly every cocky, arrogant joke he’s ever made makes complete sense.
He drags himself along your slit, groaning lowly as he collects your slick to coat himself. Your entire body shudders as his tip catches along your clit and you bite your lip to keep from releasing a sound. He pushes slowly into you, the stretch welcome but has you gripping onto his bicep regardless. Your thighs tighten instinctively around his hips as you continue to adjust to his size. He presses a kiss to your shoulder then another behind your ear as he pushes himself in slowly, hips flush to the inside of your thighs.
“Fuck,” his mouth brushes against your ear and you feel his teeth catching, “you feel so good.” The stretch eases until it fades into the feeling of fullness, the burn turning into a pulsing heat. He starts to pull back, slow at first, dragging it out and groaning as he pushes back in.
His pace begins to pick up as his hips start snapping faster into yours, your broken moans spilling out shamelessly. Each thrust hits deeper, sharper, sending you spiraling further into the heat curling low in your belly. You hook your ankles around his waist, pulling him deeper as each drag of his body pressed flush against yours.
“Fuck,” he moans against your kiss-bitten lips, “You’re so–fuck–pretty like this for me.” He pants against your mouth, kissing you rough and wet between his words. Even during sex, he still couldn’t stop talking. You want to tease him but instead, you whimper into the kiss, unable to form a coherent sentence.
You’re clinging onto his sculpted muscles, every single nerve ending in your body is lit up, your entire body still sensitive from your last orgasm. You throw your head back, vision hazy as you let out small cries with each movement of his body against yours. Your head lolled back, eyes hazy, your cries echoing off the paper walls.
His arm loops under one of your legs, hoisting it up so it rests on his shoulder. The stretch from the new angle has you seeing stars. “Oh my god,” you manage to get out, “Sa-Satoru.” You feel him grinning against your mouth again.
And then, his mouth is back by your ear, voice breaking between ragged breaths. “You have no idea–” he grunts, pace faltering for a second, “how long I’ve been wanting to do this.” He punctuates his words with sharpened, faster, harder thrusts.
His words catch you off guard and it takes your brain a second to register his words through the roar of blood in your ears but your eyes fly open when you do. The drag of his cock hitting deep has your back bowing off the futon again and you can barely manage a broken, “W-what–?” but you’re interrupted by your body clenching around him, his warm breath at your ear.
He shifts a bit, pulling back just enough to slide his strong hand on the underside of your thighs, pushing them up to your chest. The new angle is doing absolutely sinful things to your brain as he hovers over you, watching himself sink back into you. His grip tightens on the backs of your thighs, pinning you open beneath him. At this point, all you can manage to say between moans and cries is his name.
Heat shoots down your spine as he lets out a guttural groan, moaning your name, voice ragged. Each thrust drives into you further, relentless and all you can do is claw at the futon beneath as your body jolts underneath him, your hands searching for purchase. He’s digging into you, the feeling overwhelming, toe-curling, every nerve sparking.
“Fuck,” he curses, “I’m about to cum.”
You slip your hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. You draw little stars against it, fingers quick and desperate, trying to keep up with his pace. The added friction sends a broken moan spilling from your lips. You watch as his eyes snap to where your fingers are moving where you’re both connected, jaw clenching. He curses again, voice cracking as sweat beads at his temples.
He picks up his pace again, rhythm faltering, rougher, sharper. You feel yourself fluttering, tightening around him, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with each slap of his hips against your thighs.
“Satoru–” you gasp, voice cracking, “I’m about to–”
“Fuck, wait–” he manages to choke out, hips stuttering, “Are you on birth control?”
You nod, frantically, eyes squeezed shut. A groan tears from his throat, raw and wrecked, and your second orgasm rips through you, body clenching hard around him, vision blurring around the edges. Your back moves to arch but he’s still got your trembling thighs in his grip, keeping you pinned down to the futon. You bite your lip in an attempt to hold back your broken cries, drawing blood.
The sight of you cumming beneat him along with the feeling of you fluttering around him is enough to push him over the edge, his rhythm faltering then breaking. “Fuck,” he curses again, hips jerking, each thrust desperate and uneven until he slowly stills, pulsing as he releases inside of you. He balances above you for a moment, the room silent aside from the sound of your ragged breaths. You feel him pushing in and out of you again, shallowly, fucking his cum back into you before he’s pulling out. You whimper at the feeling.
He’s still got his hands pressing your knees to your chest though his grip is looser, using his hold on you to gently push him back up onto his knees and he’s watching the mixture of both of your fluids slowly leak out of you. He uses his pointer finger and middle finger to push it back into you and the corner of his lip quirks a bit.
“Maybe we should give them an heir.”
a/n - eee it's my first time posting on tumblr so i rlly hope u guys enjoyed! tbh it was a lot longer than i expected it to be, probably won't be posting a lot of long works like this but sth ab clan leader gojo just gets me going also this was kinda sorta canon divergent srryyy thank u for reading! :3
the strongest (fake) boyfriend [gojo satoru x reader] texts
collection of texts between you and gojo satoru based off my enemies (minor inconvenience) to lovers fake dating au one shot !
one shot link [x]
a/n this is prob just pt 1 of many lol, i’ve never made an smau before so this was fun ! i rlly wanted to make a pt 2 to tsfb and i thought up some of these texts while rereading lmao, y/n takes annoyance to lovers very srsly
these texts are from before they hook up ! i just rlly like exploring reader kinda opening up to gojo veeery slowly
"i had a really good time tonight," you say as you come to a stop at your doorstep. gojo doesn't even look like he heard you — too busy staring at you like you hung the moon.
eventually, he snaps out of it. "o-oh yeah, me too. we should totally do it again sometime. if you'd like." he looks down at his feet, cheeks already flushing a pretty pink.
"i'd like that very much." you smile up at him and he thinks he's going to pass out. slowly, you lean in until your lips were only a hair's breadth away from his.
"are you sure about this?" gojo asks you as if the answer wasn't already obvious enough. "what does it look like?" you deadpan and he huffs out a laugh before closing that nonexistent distance between you.
your arms loop around his neck and he grabs your waist to pull you closer. "been wantin' to do this for a while now," he murmurs against your lips. your mouth parts for him and he delves deeper, kissing you like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your lips. his hands flex at your waist like he’s not quite ready to let go.
beep. beep.
you both freeze.
gojo pulls back just enough to glance down, and you follow his gaze to his smartwatch, glowing innocently in the dark.
“abnormal heart rate detected.”
you blink. then bite your lip.
gojo glares at it like it betrayed him personally. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”
you burst out laughing. “are you okay?” you sputter between giggles. “no, actually,” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “this thing’s a snitch.”
“you’re really that worked up over a kiss?”
“i’m really that worked up over you,” he mutters, clearly not meaning to say it out loud. he covers the screen with his palm like it’s embarrassing. “no, i’m just—” he clears his throat. “—very fit. obviously. peak condition.”
your eyes flick back up to his—his ears are a little red. “right,” you say, smiling. “so this had nothing to do with the kiss.”
gojo stares at the watch for a second. “…it’s broken. has to be.”
you raise a brow. “you sure? you looked a little...flushed.”
he scoffs. “flushed? me?” he waves a hand. “please. my heart rate didn’t even budge. if anything, i’m probably clinically dead. that’s how calm i am.”
without another word, you reach up again, hands curling around the collar of his jacket as you pull him back in. this kiss is slower. a little deeper. you don’t rush it—and you feel the exact moment he melts into it, hands settling on your hips like he’s forgotten all about trying to act composed.
beep. beep.
you pull back just slightly and glance down. the screen glows again. gojo lets out the quietest “oh my god.”
you bite your lip, trying not to laugh. “still very chill?”
he drops his forehead to your shoulder. “i’m never gonna hear the end of this, am i?”
“nope,” you say brightly, arms winding around his neck. “but i do appreciate the honesty. from you and your watch.”
synopsis. Gojo Satoru's been working on this for weeks. Late nights, crumpled paper, messing up the folding, starting over. He wanted to give you something that showed how much you mattered. (He's never been more nervous in his life.)
pairing. gojo satoru x f!reader
content & warnings. fluff, established relationship (dating.. yes), love letter, gift giving (LOTS of em), soft gojo, vulnerable gojo, reader cries (happy tears!!), you two live together, he gives it to you himself and now he's flustered <3
series. part 12 of the "Satoru as Your Boyfriend" series!! all parts will be found here!
word count. 6.7k+
A/N. creds to @suupersonic for the div !! read the whole letter here!
Satoru had written 117 words before he crumpled the first page.
He stared at the fresh sheet. Pen in hand. Nothing came.
You didn't know this. You were asleep in the bedroom, buried under the duvet you'd stolen sometime around 2 AM, your breathing soft and even, your hair spread across the silk pillow like dark water.
The lamp on your nightstand was still on, casting a warm pool of light that didn't quite reach the doorway. Your phone had slipped from your fingers, screen still glowing with some article about attachment styles you'd been reading, something about love languages and emotional availability that had made you hum thoughtfully and then drift off mid-sentence.
Satoru sat at the kitchen table in the dark, a single desk lamp throwing his long shadow against the wall like a second self, and stared at the A4 sheet in front of him.
It was midnight. Maybe later. Time had become slippery, unimportant, ever since he'd started thinking about this. About you. About the way you looked at him sometimes, like he was already enough, like he didn't need to perform or dazzle or be the strongest sorcerer alive. Just him. Regular Satoru, who left his socks on the floor and sang off-key in the shower and couldn't cook anything that didn't come with instructions on the back of a box.
Regular Satoru, who was apparently terrifying.
He picked up the pen. Set it down. Picked it up again.
The blank page stared back at him, patient and terrible.
He'd written letters before. Mission reports with their clinical precision, formal requests to the higher-ups that he drafted with biting sarcasm and then edited into something approaching professionalism. The occasional note to Shoko, usually something stupid like "You're welcome" after she'd patched him up, or "Buy your own damn coffee" when she was being particularly annoying. Nothing that mattered. Nothing that required him to be seen.
But this was different.
This was you.
He started writing.
"I don't know how to start this."
The words looked wrong as soon as they hit the page. Too apologetic. Too small. He crossed them out with a single violent slash, the pen digging into the paper hard enough to leave an impression on the sheet beneath.
"I've been trying to find the right words."
Crossed it out. Worse. Pretentious. Like he was writing a movie script instead of a letter to the person who'd seen him cry twice and hadn't told anyone.
"I love you."
He stared at it.
It was true. It was insufficient. It was three letters that couldn't possibly contain everything he felt, everything you'd become to him, everything he was terrified of losing. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
So he kept writing.
The first page took him three hours. He wrote and crossed out, wrote and crossed out, until the paper was more scar tissue than sentence, until the words were buried under layers of revision and doubt. Finally he crumpled the whole thing into a ball and threw it toward the trash can. It missed, bouncing off the rim and rolling under the table to join the growing collection of failed attempts.
He started over.
The second page took him two hours. Better, but still wrong. The tone was off — too formal, like he was addressing a colleague instead of the person who knew about the scar on his hip from a curse he'd never told anyone about, who'd kissed it without asking for the story behind it.
Crumpled. Tossed.
By the end of the first week, he had twelve crumpled papers on the floor and one page that almost felt right. Almost. He'd written about the way you laughed, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn't paying attention, the way you made the world feel smaller and safer just by existing in it.
But when he read it back, it felt flat. Like he was describing a stranger. Like he'd captured the shape of you but missed the weight, the heat, the impossible reality of you.
He kept the page. Set it aside. Started over.
He kept going.
It happened gradually, the way important things often do. He was making coffee one morning — the good kind, the beans you'd brought back from that trip to Kyoto, the ones you saved for special occasions while he secretly used them every day because they reminded him of you — when he realized he wanted to give you more than just words.
Words were his weakness, always had been. He could talk circles around anyone, perform confidence like a second skin, but when it came to the things that mattered, the things that lived in his chest like living things, he choked. He performed. He deflected.
He wanted to give you something you could hold.
Something that would stay with you even when he couldn't be there, when missions pulled him away for days, weeks, or maybe even months, when the distance felt like a physical weight between you. Something that wouldn't dissolve the moment he stopped speaking.
So he started gathering things.
Small things. Things you'd mentioned in passing, your voice casual, unaware that he was memorizing every word. Things you'd looked at a little too long, your gaze lingering before you remembered to be practical, to be sensible, to be the person who didn't expect grand gestures from the strongest sorcerer alive.
The bracelet, first. You'd pointed at it in a shop window three months ago, your finger hovering over the glass for half a second before you moved on, said something about it being pretty, kept walking. He'd gone back that same afternoon, bought it with cash so there'd be no record, hid it in his sock drawer beneath a pile of mismatched pairs you were always threatening to organize.
You'd never mentioned it again. He wasn't sure if you'd forgotten, or if you'd convinced yourself it didn't matter, or if you were simply waiting to see if he'd been paying attention.
He had been. He was always paying attention.
The candies next. The ones from Harajuku, the shop you'd dragged him to on a rainy Saturday, your hand in his, your hood pulled up against the drizzle. You'd bought three boxes of the strawberry-filled ones, eaten them all in one sitting while you watched some documentary about deep sea creatures, and then claimed they were "too sweet" when he asked if you wanted to go back.
He'd memorized the shop. The color of the packaging, soft pink with gold lettering. The way your eyes lit up when you found them, the way you hummed while you walked, swinging the bag like a pendulum of contentment.
He bought five boxes. Hid them in the back of the pantry, behind the rice he'd never learned to cook properly.
The candles came after that. You'd been browsing online one evening, your laptop balanced on his thighs while you scrolled through pages of scented candles with names like Midnight Garden and Rain on Warm Pavement. You'd paused on one — vanilla and sandalwood, simple, clean — and made a soft considering noise before clicking away.
He'd memorized the brand. The scent. The way you'd looked at the screen like you wanted it but wouldn't buy it for yourself, some voice in your head saying it was too indulgent, too unnecessary, too much.
He bought three. One for the bedroom, one for the bathroom, one for the living room where you spent Sunday mornings reading on the couch. He imagined you lighting them, the soft glow on your face, the way you'd smile without knowing why.
The makeup was harder. He knew nothing about makeup — had never paid attention beyond the way you sometimes traced dark lines around your eyes that made them look even more devastating, the way you'd press color onto your lips and then complain about having to be careful not to smudge it.
But he'd seen you. In the mirror of a department store, testing a lipstick on the back of your hand, making that same soft considering noise you'd made with the candles. You'd looked at the price and put it back, smiled at yourself in the mirror like you were reminding yourself you didn't need it, and walked away.
He went back the next day. Stood in front of the display like an idiot, overwhelmed by the rows of color, the foreign language of shades and finishes and formulas. A saleswoman had helped him, mercifully unimpressed by his hesitation, and he'd left with the lipstick you'd tested — Ruby Velvet, the name printed in gold — and a small palette of shadows in warm browns and soft golds that the saleswoman said would "bring out your eyes."
He'd wrapped them in tissue paper, tucked them into the basket, and hoped you wouldn't think he was trying to change you. He just wanted to give you the things you wanted but wouldn't give yourself.
The playlist was accidental, almost. He'd started a note in his phone on a whim, adding titles in the dark while you slept beside him, while you showered and sang under your breath, while you cooked breakfast in his too-big t-shirt and didn't realize he was listening. Songs you hummed while folding laundry. Songs you requested in the car, claiming they were "just catchy," your cheeks pink when he caught you mouthing the words.
He didn't know what he was building yet. He just knew he was collecting pieces of you, hoarding them like treasures, and that eventually he'd need to give them back in some form that made sense.
But the flowers.
The flowers were where everything changed.
He bought real lilies first. White ones, your favorite, from the florist two blocks away that you always stopped to smell when you passed. They were beautiful, perfect, and they would die in a week. Not that he wouldn't buy a hundred more just for you.
He stared at them on his kitchen table, their petals still wrapped in plastic, and felt something twist in his chest. Temporary. Everything was temporary. Missions and moments and the fragile peace between disasters. He wanted to give you something that would last.
The idea came from nowhere and everywhere — a craft he'd seen in a shop window once, maybe, or a tutorial he'd half-watched while waiting for a mission briefing, or simply the desperate need to build something with his own hands that wouldn't fade. Something he could control, could shape, could make permanent in a life where permanence was rare.
He'd never been good at making things. At creating. His whole life had been about destruction — cursed energy and violence and the weight of being the strongest. But this was different. This was for you. And somehow that made his clumsy fingers feel capable, his uncertain hands feel steady.
Pipe cleaner flowers. He could make them. He would make them.
The first attempt was a disaster.
He bought white pipe cleaners from a craft store in Shibuya, feeling ridiculous and conspicuous, the strongest sorcerer alive purchasing art supplies like a middle schooler with a diorama due. He watched a tutorial on his phone, following along with fingers that had killed special grade curses but couldn't seem to bend wire into anything resembling a petal.
The first lily looked like a sad weed. Crooked petals, uneven stem, the whole thing listing to one side like it was drunk. He stared at it for a long moment, then carefully set it aside and started over.
The second was worse.
The third made him want to throw something.
He kept trying. He bought more pipe cleaners, different gauges, different colors. He stayed up late, bending and twisting until his fingers hurt, until the pads of his thumbs were raw from the metal edges, until his eyes burned and his shoulders ached from hunching over the table.
He wanted to make you something that wouldn't wilt.
Something that would last. Something he had built with his own hands, imperfect and real, the way he wanted to be for you.
By the end of the week, he had seven pipe cleaner lilies that looked almost like flowers. The petals were still slightly uneven, the stems a little wobbly, but they were recognizable. They were his.
He arranged them in a small basket, tucked among the real lilies he'd bought, and felt a strange pride mixed with terror. You would know. You would see the uneven petals, the places where his fingers had slipped, and you would understand what he was trying to say.
He hoped.
He started the letter over again.
The gathering had changed something, shifted his understanding of what he was trying to build. It wasn't just words anymore. It was a world, a collection of moments and objects and feelings that he'd assembled like a shrine to the fact that you existed, that you chose him, that you stayed.
He wanted the letter to match. To be perfect, yes, but also to be endless. Something you could keep unfolding, discovering, returning to. Something that felt like him: messy, excessive, unable to stop once he'd started.
He wrote 520 reasons.
He knew it was ridiculous. He knew it was excessive, the kind of gesture that would make Nanami sigh heavily and Shoko make some comment about his ego. But he wanted you to see proof - to hold proof - that he loved you in a way that couldn't be undone.
"520 is "I love you" in Chinese internet slang," he told himself, late at night, surrounded by paper and pipe cleaners and the quiet of an apartment that felt empty even when you were sleeping in the next room. "Wǒ ài nǐ. Very romantic. Very me."
The paper piled up. He bought A4 sheets in bulk, the good kind, heavy enough to feel substantial in your hands. He wrote and wrote, the numbers marching down the margins like a private army of confessions.
1. I love the way you roll your eyes when I call you "shorty" — but you're still the tallest thing in the room to me. You always have been.
89. I love the way you laugh when I do something stupid on purpose. It's like you're the only person who gets that I'm not actually an idiot. (Most of the time.)
He wrote about the tiny things. The way you squinted at your phone. The way you forgot your keys and then found them in the refrigerator. The way you said his name when you were tired, drawing out the syllables like a secret.
112. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me nervous. (I already said this. I'm saying it again because it's still true and I'm still terrified.)
He stopped there, pen hovering over the paper. The apartment was too quiet. He could hear his own heartbeat, the distant hum of the refrigerator, the city waking up beyond his windows. He thought about your face when you read this, the way you'd probably laugh at number 47 and get stuck on number 112, demanding to know when he was nervous.
He kept writing.
156. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me feel small. Not in a bad way. In the way that makes me want to be bigger for you.
His hand was shaking. He set down the pen and went to make coffee, needing the ritual of it, the mechanical motions of filter and water and waiting. The sun was fully up when he returned, painting his kitchen in gold, and he sat back down to continue.
203. I love that you don't flinch when I take off my blindfold. Most people can't even look at me without squinting, but you just — you see me. Even when I'm not trying to be seen.
He wrote through the morning. Through the afternoon, skipping meals, skipping calls from Nanami that went to voicemail with increasingly terse messages. The numbers blurred together. He wrote about your morning hair and your terrible puns and the way you bit your lip when concentrating. He wrote about your kindness, your stubbornness, the way you refused to let him pay for everything even though he could buy the building.
289. I love that you're the only person who's ever beaten me at rock-paper-scissors. I let you win, obviously, but still. It counts.
300. I love that you're here. That you choose to be here. Every day, you choose this. Choose me. I don't know why. I'm not going to ask. I'm just going to keep being grateful.
He stopped again. His eyes were burning. He'd been awake for thirty hours and he still had two hundred twenty reasons to go, but his hand was cramping and his chest felt too full, like something was trying to escape.
He thought about giving up. About throwing the whole thing away and buying you something instead — jewelry, probably, something expensive and easy. Something that didn't require him to be this exposed.
But then he thought about your face again, really thought about it, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn't paying attention. Like he was already enough. Like he didn't need to be infinite or strongest or anything at all.
He picked up the pen.
365. I love that you're the only person who's ever seen me cry. Not even Suguru got that. Just you.
400. I love that you're the only person who's ever called me out for being full of shit. Most people just laugh or nod or pretend I'm not a disaster. But you? You know. And you still stay.
412. I love that you're the only person who's ever made me want to be better. Not for the world. Not for the mission. For you.
499. I love that I know you're going to make me sit here while you read all of these. I planned for this. I want this. I want you to know exactly how much I mean it.
520. Because if I get a thousand versions of this life, I'd look for you in every single one.
He finished at 3 AM on a Thursday. His hand was cramping. His eyes were burning. But he looked at the pages spread out around him and felt something shift in his chest — a quiet satisfaction, a quiet hope.
He hoped you'd like it.
He hoped you'd understand.
The pages were done, but the letter wasn't finished.
He sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by 520 reasons, and realized he had no idea how to give them to you. A stack of paper felt wrong — too clinical, too much like homework. He wanted you to discover them, to unfold them like a secret, to feel like the words were endless.
He taught himself to fold.
Not origami — he wasn't patient enough for that, and his fingers were too clumsy from years of fighting. But nesting. Each page folded inside the next, creating a chain of revelations, so that when you opened one, another would fall out. He wanted you to feel like the letter was endless. Like his love was endless.
It took hours. His first attempts were bulky, the folds uneven, the pages refusing to nest properly. He started over, again and again, until his fingers remembered the motions, until the paper began to cooperate, until he had something that felt like magic.
He added three small envelopes to the back, each labeled in his careful script:
Open when you miss me.
Open when you're mad at me.
Open when you need to remember.
He didn't know what to put in them yet. He'd figure it out. He had time.
He held the finished letter in his hands and felt something shift, some tectonic plate in his chest settling into place. This was it. This was regular Satoru Gojo, or as close as he could get — a man who spent three weeks on paper and pipe cleaners because he was too scared to say three words out loud.
He was terrified.
He waited three more days.
Not because he was having second thoughts — though he was, constantly, waking up at 2 AM convinced this was a mistake, that you'd think it was too much, that you'd finally see how desperately he needed you and run the other way.
He waited because he wanted the right moment. Not a birthday, not an anniversary, not any occasion that demanded reciprocation. Just... a Sunday. A regular Sunday where you had nowhere to be, nothing to do, no performance required.
He cleaned the apartment on Saturday, which you would notice and comment on, which would make him defensive and pleased in equal measure. He threw away the crumpled papers, the failed pipe cleaner attempts, the evidence of his obsession. He arranged the real lilies and the fake ones in a basket, added the bracelet in its velvet pouch, the candies, the handwritten playlist with its notes in the margins.
Track 3: "you sang this in the shower once, badly, I loved it"
Track 7: "you smiled when this came on at the convenience store, i bought the album"
Track 12: "you cried to this in the car and pretended you weren't, i didn't say anything but i wanted to pull over and hold you"
He wrote them late at night, hunched over his phone, your breathing soft in the next room. Each note was a confession he couldn't make in person, a piece of evidence he'd been paying attention all along.
Sunday morning arrived like a held breath. He woke before you, which was unusual — you were typically the early riser, the one who brought him coffee in bed and laughed when he groaned and pulled the covers over his head. But today his eyes opened at six, his chest tight with anticipation, and he lay there in the dark listening to you breathe until the sun finally crept through the curtains.
He bought your favorite pastries from the bakery three blocks away, the ones with the red bean filling you pretended not to love because you thought they were "too sweet." The woman behind the counter smiled at him — she recognized him now, had started setting aside the best ones when she saw him coming — and he felt a strange warmth at being known, at being regular, at being someone who bought pastries for the person he loved.
You arrived at noon, letting yourself in with the key he'd given you six months ago. The sound of the lock turning still made his heart stutter, still felt like a gift every time. You kicked off your shoes in the entryway, called out a greeting, and he stood in the kitchen with the basket hidden behind his back like a teenager with a crush.
"Something smells amazing," you said, rounding the corner, and he watched your face cycle through expressions: surprise at the clean apartment, delight at the pastry box on the table, confusion at the way he was standing, too still, too obvious.
"What?" You narrowed your eyes, playful suspicion creeping in. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're about to propose or tell me you're secretly a curse in disguise."
He laughed, too loud, and ran a hand through his hair. "Neither. I just— have something for you."
Your suspicion deepened, but you were smiling, curious, setting down your bag and accepting the pastry box he thrust at you like a shield. "Satoru, you look like you're about to throw up. Are you okay?"
"Fine. Perfect. Never better." The words came out automatic, his usual deflection, but his hands were shaking when he retrieved the basket from behind the couch. He'd arranged everything carefully that morning, the lilies nestled together, the pipe cleaner flowers tucked among them like secrets, the envelope heavy and waiting at the bottom.
He held it out.
You set down the pastry box, suddenly serious, and took the basket with both hands. The weight of it seemed to surprise you — you shifted your grip, feeling the bulk, and looked up at him with questions in your eyes.
"You made this," you said. Not a question. A statement of fact, delivered with the quiet certainty of someone who knew him, who could read through his performances to the truth underneath.
"Maybe." His voice came out steadier than he felt, his usual smirk sliding into place like armor. "Or maybe I just wanted to see if you'd notice the difference between a store-bought gift and something that actually required effort." He paused, couldn't help himself. "Spoiler: you always do."
You ignored him, peeling back the cloth lining he'd spent twenty minutes arranging. The white lilies came first — fresh, fragrant, their petals still dewy from the morning market. He watched your face soften, watched your fingers hover over the petals, and felt something loosen in his chest.
Then you saw them.
The pipe cleaner flowers, tucked among the real ones. White lilies, carefully shaped, slightly uneven, obviously made by human hands. His hands. He'd sat at this same kitchen table and twisted wire into flowers because he wanted you to have something that wouldn't wilt, something that would last, something he had built for you with his own clumsy fingers.
Your throat tightened. He saw it happen — the way your breath caught, the way your eyes went bright with something he couldn't name.
"Satoru," you whispered, and his name in your mouth still felt like a miracle, like something he didn't deserve but couldn't stop wanting.
You kept exploring. The velvet pouch, the bracelet sliding into your palm, your fingers tracing the chain he'd memorized for months. The candies, your favorite, the ones you'd claimed were too sweet. The CD case, the handwritten playlist, the notes in his messy scrawl.
Then — the candles. Three of them, wrapped in tissue paper, vanilla and sandalwood rising up to meet you. You pulled back the paper and stared at them, your breath catching, because you remembered this. You remembered scrolling past them, wanting them, telling yourself no.
"Satoru," you whispered, and he made a small nervous noise, not quite words, his hand finding yours.
You kept going. A small bag at the bottom, something heavier. You opened it and found the lipstick — Ruby Velvet in gold lettering — and the palette of warm browns and soft golds, the ones you'd tested in the department store mirror and put back because they were too much, because you didn't need them, because you were always telling yourself no.
You looked up at him, and your eyes were bright, wet, and he was pink and defensive and terrified.
"I didn't know if I got the right ones," he said quickly. "The woman at the counter helped me, I don't know anything about makeup, I just— you looked at them, and I wanted—"
You kissed him. Hard, sudden, the lipstick tube pressing into your palm like a promise.
"You were paying attention," you said against his mouth. "You were paying attention to everything."
"Always," he admitted, and his voice was small, honest, nothing like his usual performance. "I pay attention to everything about you."
And then — the envelope.
You looked back up at him. He was diverting his gaze now, his hands shoved in his pockets, his jaw tight. Every instinct screamed at him to perform, to deflect, to make a joke and retreat behind his mask. But he stayed still. He let you see him.
"Satoru..."
"Just—" His voice cracked slightly, and he hated it, hated how exposed he felt, how small. "Just open it. Please."
You opened the envelope carefully, like it was precious, like it mattered, and something in his chest ached with gratitude.
Inside was a single folded sheet of A4 paper. You unfolded it, and a smaller folded piece fell out. Then another. Then another. They were nested, each page folded inside the next, like he'd been unable to stop writing, like the words kept multiplying, like he had more to say than any single page could hold.
You spread them out on the couch. Page after page after page. His handwriting was messy, sometimes neat, sometimes so careless you could barely read it. He'd crossed things out, rewritten them, added things in the margins. Some pages had coffee stains. One had what looked like a tear drop, smudged into the paper — he hadn't known you'd be able to tell, hadn't thought about what he'd be revealing.
You started to read.
"I don't know how to start this. I've rewritten this opening seven times. You probably think I'm being dramatic. You'd be right."
You laughed, bright and surprised, and Satoru felt something loosen in his chest, something he'd been holding tight for weeks.
"But I needed to tell you things I can't say out loud. Things I've been thinking about for months. Things you deserve to hear."
You kept reading. He watched your face, the way your expression shifted from amusement to something softer, something deeper. You read about the first time he knew he loved you — not a dramatic moment, nothing cinematic. Just a Tuesday. You'd been making coffee, humming something off-key, and he'd watched you from the doorway and thought: "Oh."
You looked up at him, and your eyes were bright, and he wanted to look away but couldn't.
"You never told me," you said.
"I couldn't." The admission felt like pulling a splinter, painful and necessary. "I didn't know how."
You kept reading. He watched you read about the tiny things he'd noticed — the way you squinted at your phone, the way you forgot your keys and then found them in the refrigerator, the way you said his name when you were tired. The way you made him feel safe. The way you made him feel like he wasn't alone, even when he was surrounded by people who needed things from him, expected things, wanted pieces of him he didn't know how to give.
Then you reached the reasons.
I love that you make home feel like a person. Like you.
I love that you're the only person who's ever made me feel like I can just be Satoru. Not Gojo. Not the strongest. Just… me.
I love the way you say "we" instead of "I." Like you've already decided I'm part of your future. I am. I want to be.
You stopped reading. Your hands were shaking. He saw your eyes go wet, saw you blink rapidly, and he felt panic rise in his chest — he'd done too much, been too much, exposed too much—
"Satoru." Your voice was thick, heavy with something he couldn't name.
He looked up. His ears were red. His face was pink. He felt like he wanted to disappear, wanted to rewind time and give you something simple, something easy, something that didn't require him to be seen.
"When did you—" Your voice broke. "How long did this take?"
He shrugged, looking away. "A while."
"Satoru."
"Three weeks." The admission came out quiet, almost ashamed. "I kept messing up the pipe cleaners. I wanted them to be perfect."
You stared at him. Then you looked down at the pages spread out around you, the pipe cleaner lilies in their basket, the bracelet in your palm. Three weeks. He'd spent three weeks on this. Staying up late, folding and refolding, bending wire into flowers, rewriting and starting over. All for you.
"Read it to me," you said.
He blinked. "What?"
"Read it to me. Out loud."
"Wait, sweetheart—"
You held out the first page. "Please."
His face was red. His hands were shaking. But he took the page from you, cleared his throat, and began to read.
"I don't know how to start this..."
His voice was rough at first, hesitant. Nothing like his usual theatrical confidence. He stumbled over words, backtracked when he couldn't read his own handwriting, made self-deprecating comments under his breath that made you smile.
But as he read, it steadied. Softened. He read about the first time he knew he loved you — that Tuesday morning, the coffee, the humming, the "Oh," that had rearranged his entire understanding of himself. He read about the tiny things he noticed — the way you squinted at your phone, the way you forgot your keys and found them in the refrigerator, the way you said his name when you were tired.
"Sa-to-ru," he imitated, and you laughed, and he smiled — his gaze on you — small and private, the real smile he saved, just for you.
He read about the quiet moments. The way you made him feel safe. The way you made him feel like he wasn't alone, even when he was surrounded by people who needed things from him, expected things, wanted pieces of him he didn't know how to give.
"You make me feel like I can just be Satoru," he read, and his voice cracked slightly. "Not Gojo. Not the strongest. Just... me."
He kept going. The funny ones first — the blue shirts, the drool, the time you'd beaten him at rock-paper-scissors and he'd sulked for an hour. Then the tender ones — the way you saved the last bite for him, the way you pretended to hate his singing but requested songs in the car, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn't paying attention.
Then the heavy ones.
"I love that you were the first person who saw me cry and didn't look away. You held me. You stayed. You loved me anyway."
He stopped. Swallowed. You reached over and took his free hand, threading your fingers through his, and he felt something settle in his chest, something that had been wound tight for years.
He kept going.
"I love the way you made me want to be better. Not for the world. Not for the mission. For you."
"I love the way you stay. Even when I'm difficult. Even when I'm distant. Even when I don't know how to say what I need."
He reached the final page. His voice was barely a whisper.
"Because if I get a thousand versions of this life, I'd look for you in every single one."
He set the letter down.
Neither of you spoke for a long moment. The afternoon light shifted through the window, gilding the paper in gold, and you thought about all the versions of him you'd seen today. The engineer, precise and frustrated. The writer, messy and vulnerable. The man who was terrified of being too much and not enough in the same breath.
Then you leaned over and kissed him.
Soft, slow, full of everything you couldn't say. His lips were warm and soft, and he made a small, surprised noise against your mouth before his hands came up to cradle your face, gentle, reverent, like you were something precious.
"I love you," you said against his lips.
"I know." His voice was rough, wrecked, nothing like his usual confidence.
"Say it back."
"I love you too." He kissed you again, deeper this time, and when he pulled back he was smiling — not the smirk, not the mask. Just him. The real him, the one he hid from everyone else, the one he'd built pipe cleaner flowers for and written 520 reasons for and was still somehow afraid of losing.
"Next time," he said, "I'm leaving the letter and running."
"No, you're not."
"No," he admitted, resting his forehead against yours, smiling. "I'm not."
You sat there together, the nested letter spread across your laps, the pipe cleaner lilies catching the afternoon light, and you thought about love as a physical thing. Something you could hold. Something that wouldn't wilt.
Something he had built for you, piece by piece, because he didn't know how to say it any other way.
"Hey," you said, after a while.
"Mm?"
"The pipe cleaner flowers are my favorite."
He laughed, bright and genuine, and pulled you closer. "Of course they are. I made those."
"I know." You kissed his cheek, felt the heat of his blush against your lips. "That's why."
You stayed there until the sun went down, reading the letter again, slower this time, asking him about specific lines, specific moments. He told you about the failed prototypes, the crumpled papers, the three AM research sessions on paper engineering. You laughed until your stomach hurt, until he was pink and defensive and happier than you'd ever seen him.
This was him, you realized. This was the person he was when no one was watching, when he wasn't performing, when he was just trying to love you in the only way he knew how: completely, excessively, without knowing how to stop.
"I want to read the envelopes," you said, reaching for the back of the letter where three small packets waited.
He caught your hand, brought it to his lips. "I didn't write them yet."
You blinked. "What?"
"I didn't—" He laughed, sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. "I got to 520 and my hand was cramping and I thought, I'll do those later, and then I never did."
"Satoru." You stared at him. "You gave me empty envelopes?"
"I gave you the idea of envelopes," he corrected, grinning now, his confidence returning now that the danger had passed. "Very romantic. Very mysterious."
"You gave me three pieces of paper with nothing on them."
"Potential," he insisted. "I gave you potential. And a promise that I'll fill them eventually."
You laughed, helpless, leaning into him. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm your ridiculous," he agreed, and kissed your forehead.
You sat in silence for a while, the letter spread across your laps, the empty envelopes tucked back into their pockets. You thought about the gesture of them — the intention, the promise, the admission that he would keep writing, keep trying, keep finding ways to tell you what you meant to him.
"Hey," you said, after a while.
"Mm?"
"Track 12 on the playlist." You were quiet for a moment, your thumb tracing circles on his palm. "You seriously wrote that I cried?"
"Of course," he confirmed, his voice soft. "I wanted to pull over and hold you. I didn't know how to say that either."
You felt your face heat. "You weren't supposed to actually write that down."
"I write everything down," he said. "Everything about you. I can't help it."
You turned to face him, this ridiculous, excessive, completely overwhelming man who had built you a mechanical love letter, left three envelopes empty out of exhaustion, and was somehow still afraid it wasn't enough.
"Read me one more," you said. "Just one. Your favorite."
He groaned, long and suffering, but he was smiling, and he reached for the pages, and he found the one he wanted.
"Number 300," he read, his voice steady now, sure. "I love that you're here. That you choose to be here. Every day, you choose this. Choose me. I don't know why. I'm not going to ask. I'm just going to keep being grateful."
He set the paper down. Looked at you, really looked at you, his blindfold askew and his eyes — his real, beautiful, terrible eyes — fixed on yours.
"That's the one," he said quietly. "That's the one that matters."
You kissed him then, soft and slow, and you didn't make him read the whole thing again. You just held him, and the letter, and the promise of empty envelopes that would one day be filled, and you thought about love as something endless, unfolding, always becoming.
"Hey," he whispered against your hair.
"Mm?"
"I'm going to write those envelopes," he said. "I promise. When you need them, they'll be there."
"I know," you said. "I'll remind you."
He laughed, bright and genuine, and pulled you closer, and you stayed there until the stars came out, two ridiculous people in love, surrounded by pipe cleaner flowers and 520 reasons and the quiet certainty that you would choose each other, again and again, in this life and any other.
A/N. a VERY very special thank you to my lovely @ver2xq for reading this fic b4 i posted cz i was overthinking whether i should post this or not <33
Plagiarism not authorized. Do not feed my work to AI. Feel free to req!! <3
locking him out after boy's night | him eating out a pudding cup goes viral
"she was hitting on you."
and you looked sorta like you wanted to hit him, brows pinched together tight and lips pushed out in a familiar pout.
"she asked what time it was," sukuna grimaced, holding up his wrist like his watch was proof. heat already coiling in his stomach at the idea of how hard you'd probably fuck him later, nails dragging down his shoulder blades as you bounced on his cock to claim him as all yours.
"she just wanted an excuse to touch your arm," you scoffed, flicking him in the forehead before picking up the full shot the bartender just slid over, bringing it up to your lips and swallowing the acrid alcohol without so much as flinching.
"did you have to bring her tonight?" gojo whined on his other side, tugging on the hem of his shirt and rolling his eyes while you cut him a sharp glare. as much as he previously enjoyed breaking up your bar fights, he didn't want gojo so much as touching you.
"i'm going to the bathroom," you surprisingly muttered, more mature than he expected as you sat the empty shot back down and shoved your purse into his arms.
he should've known better.
because ten minutes later, he was pushing through the packed club to find the bathroom - and found some dipshit dancing with you instead.
his hands on your hips as they swayed in time with the music, your tiny little red dress rolling up high on your thighs as you leaned back against him, that annoying little smirk on your lips like you were just waiting to be discovered. batting your lashes up at him when you looked up, pushing out a glossy bottom lip as you said something soft enough for only him to hear.
and that asshole just ate it up.
blissfully unaware he was just a pawn being played with.
besides, who wouldn't want to be your toy? it was the only thing you ever made easy.
your eyes locked onto his, glittering mischievously before you ran your hand down his forearm, tapping twice on his watch as your mouth started to move again.
asking him for the fucking time.
all of sukuna's sensibility sucked out of his head as he stormed over, grabbing you by the wrist and tugging you against his chest as you scoffed at him like he was the crazy one here.
"get your hands off my fucking girlfriend."
"chill, dude," the loser huffed, holding his hands up defensively. "i didn't know she had a boyfriend."
sukuna made a sound, gritting his teeth as he started to step back.
"fuckin' slut."
sukuna blacked out.
and the next thing he knew, he was being pried off of him in the middle of the dance floor, knuckles dripping with blood as his fist connected one final time with his busted lip.
shit.
"lucky i didn't knock out your goddamn teeth," he spat at him, shrugging off gojo's hands as he felt himself being pulled back by his clothes.
a bouncer was there two seconds later to yank him out anyway, but he was focused on you, making sure you were by his side while he got screamed at for starting a fight.
he was sick of this place anyway.
grinding his back molars as they pushed both of you out the side exit, shouting to not come back or they'd call the cops, the same blah blah blah he'd heard too many times before.
"kuna," you whined, leaning your head against his shoulder as he flexed his bruised fingers. "did you have to get us kicked out?"
"he called you a slut," he grunted.
"i think you were just jealous," you hummed, the corner of your mouth curling up a tiny bit as he slung an arm around your shoulder.
"yeah right," he sarcastically muttered, lying through his teeth as someone called his name. glancing over his shoulder to see gojo throwing a hundred dollar bill at the bouncer, probably bribing him not to call the police before jogging to catch up. "let's just go home."
"oh?" you pouted again, lips pursed together as you followed his attention back to where gojo was standing. "maybe i should ask gojo if he wants to keep the night going."
"don't even think about it," he grumbled.
"don't think about what?" the idiot in question asked as he caught up.
"you wanna be the one to take me home?" you purred, deceptively soft and sweet as you smiled at gojo.
"if you say yes, i'll have to kill you," sukuna deadpanned, staring him down as he squeezed you closer.
