what was supposed to be a night of quick fun, a good lay with ryomen sukuna quickly snowballed into you ending up pregnant from a one night stand. it wasn't easy, it wasn't something planned, and your baby daddy wasn't exactly eager, but you'd manage. right?
PAIRING: frat bro! ryomen sukuna x nerdy! fem reader (with hints of nerd!jo x reader)
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ content, MDNI. unprotected sex. unplanned pregnancy. the topic of abortion. sukuna being a dick. maybe (probably) inaccurate depictions of frat life. more included in the individual posts.
SERIES MASTERLIST
01. DOUBLE SHOTS AND DOUBLE LINES
you're out of your element at one of the frat parties sukuna's hosting, left to your own devices for most of the night. one thing leads to another, you're in his bed tonight and with a positive test five weeks later?
02. THE NERD WHO STEPPED UP
without a ride and any support, you find yourself at an abortion clinic with your roommateâs best friend, satoru gojo. do you do it, do you not do it, the thoughts haunt you, gojoâs there to stick by your side through it all.
03. FRAT BROâS DILEMMA
ryomen sukuna finally decides to man upâŠ.three months after he spoke to you last. is he too late or will you let him back in?
04. BABY SHOWER BEAT DOWN
the date of your baby shower comes up, with both gojo and sukuna in the same room together. punches land, cupcakes fly, tears fall, all in the span of three hours.
05. GATEWAY TO HEAVEN
gojo satoru manages to reach heaven only toâŠfumble the bag?
06. GOING THROUGH CHANGES
after distancing yourself from both satoru and sukuna, you slowly start to get your life together.
07. COCOMELON AND LATE DINNER
late night cravings after work only means late night dinner with sukuna.
08. FIRST DATE JITTERS
off to a rocky start, you donât expect much from your first date with sukuna.
hi, i wanted to take this chance to say that iâm incredibly grateful for the support that iâve received on this seriesâit truly does mean the world to me. and i do want to apologize for the delay in between rewriting parts and changing accounts, iâm sorry for any inconveniences. overall, thank you.
㠀㠀㠀㠀㠀㠀â nsfw content ahead ! please do not interact if you're a minor
㠀㠀㠀 âââă €đ  IMAGINES .á.á
get(o) cucked ! đ satoru fucking you in front of his best friend after suguru gets dumped
㠀㠀㠀 âââ ă €đ  SHORT FICS .á.á
caught red-handed đ as an assassin, you know exactly which targets are worth your time and which ones are better left for someone less capable. killing gojo satoru should be easy work, but when you find yourself entangled in his sheets, even you have to wonder whether your own confidence is about to get you killed
conventionally yours đ when your childhood best friend, gojo satoru signs you both up for a couple event to win a hatsune miku figurine, you brace yourself to fake it, win the prize, and never speak of it again. unfortunately, neither of you account for the gameshow digging up past feelings and twisting your friendship into something a little more intimate
㠀㠀 âââ㠀㠀đ  LONG FICS .á.á
the art of getting him 37k+ đ geto suguru is everyoneâs first crush. having a crush on him is as hopeless as it is inevitable though your friends quickly disagree that the awe-struck, mouth gaping expression is a strictly you thing, and that he isn't as much of a campus celebrity as you believe he is. regardless, you're determined to put your inability to hold a conversation with him in the past. the solution is simple, you seek out his best friend. if geto suguru is everyoneâs first crush (again, a completely objective statement), then gojo satoru is everyoneâs first heartbreak.
kiss me when you swing by 55k+ đ between a smug academic rival, a masked hero you cannot stop thinking about, and a symbiote threat getting closer by the day, your life is quickly becoming unmanageable. gojo satoru keeps ruining your peace, spiderman keeps stealing your heart, and neither of them seems willing to tell you the truth. as secrets pile up and the city tips further into danger, you begin to realise the person breaking your heart and the one trying to save it may not be two different people at all.
a lesson on love 30k+ đ with your love life in ruins, the last thing you want to do is think about romance. unfortunately, between passive-aggressive notes and an infuriating neighbour named 4B who wonât leave you alone, love might not be done with you just yet
㠀㠀 㠀㠀ââđ MISCELLANEOUS .á.á
how to lose a girl in 10 days đ in which gojo satoru gets bullied onto hinge for being a virgin, girlfriend-less freak and quickly discovers he only has game when he catfishes as "toru", a humble, matcha-loving, wired earphone-wearing, suspiciously faceless man. unfortunately, his plans of being a normal boyfriend to a normal girlfriend shatters when he matches with you, a certified maneater who is determined to unmask his hinge persona by whatever means possible aka a lighthearted jjk smau !!
@GOJOVER do not plagiarise, repost, modify, translate, or feed my work/art to ai
á ËË summary â thereâs no one you hate more than satoru gojo. heâs arrogant and entirely too full of himself. when you agree to be strictly enemies with benefits, gojo takes this as the perfect opportunity to finally make you his.
″ warnings: this mini series will feature adult content and is not recommended to anyone under the age of 18
intro
⊠chapter one: the fuck buddy proposal
⊠chapter two: you're not my type!
⊠chapter three: the conclusion
ê°Â I've already got a taglist going but you can also sign up for tags here! under others just type in: the arrangement series ê±
hi! do you have any long gojo fics? not multiple chapters or anything.
â€ïž long gojo fic recs âââ n(sfw)
đăËłă chasing cars â â â â â
@hotties4gojoâ â ⌠â 6k wc : this is one of my favourite canon compliant fanfictions about gojo ever, the way they write about the angst and the feeling of doom and sadness is so impeccable omg. ăâ
đăËłă pokerface â â â â â
@screampiedâ â ⌠â 5k wc : this is a screampied fanfiction. that's all you need to know to know it's gonna be amazing, just read her whole masterlist omg. ăâ
đăËłă when did you get hot? â â â â â
@po1x3nâ â ⌠â 4k wc : the creator deactivated but the link leads to the fic I reblogged, it's a really good read for nerds lovers! ăâ
đăËłă end of our world â â â â â
@kingkaisenâ â ⌠â 11k wc : the angst and smut in this one is so insane, one of the best apocalypse fanfictions everrrr! ăâ
đăËłă king gojo â â â â â
@tonycriesâ â ⌠â 10.3k wc : since you didn't want chapters I couldn't rec other royal Aus with multiple parts, but this fanfic by Tony is so far the best royal one shot ive read! ăâ
đăËłă stress eating has (delicious) repercussions â â â â â
@iamsocloneâ â ⌠â 8.8k wc : the most accurate husband!gojo fanfic ever with the most scrumptious smut and fluff, like THIS is my man ăâ
đăËłă allowed to love â â â â â
@illumeewâ â ⌠â 8k wc : this one is so sweet and sfw and just UGH its so canon how gojo and you would be like in high school, the ending made me cry ăâ
đăËłă the strongest fake boyfriend â â â â â
@akariroâ â ⌠â 13.8k wc : fake dating au's are always either a hit or miss and this one is a straight hit, it was giving kdrama core omg ăâ
đăËłă seven-forty-seven and other certainties
@sixeyesonathielâ â ⌠â 12.1k wc : athiel is one of the best writers on Tumblr for gojo and this is one of her best works if you want a sfw fanfic, check out her master list!ăâ
đŁČ send ask if you want different fic recommendations, or if you want your fic to be promoted !!!! ïž” áȘ
Plot: A student of alchemy and ancient occulticate practices, you are the only human attending a prestigious university dominated by monsters, with Dragon shifters sitting at the top of hierarchy. Already being an object of curiosity, itâs no surprise you somehow manage to attract the Dragon Princeâs attention and lust- much to your irritation.
Theme songs: Take me back to Eden- Sleep Token, Beast- Mia Martina
Author notes: I donât own the pictures used in the cover and they are only for aesthetic; the Dragon Prince has a humanoid appearance when not shifted with red scales sporadically covering his skin, golden eyes, horns and a tail (his human form kinda looks like that of Dragon!Sylus from Love and DeepSpace but with more gold and red accents than black and gold) . When shifted heâs about the size of a small football field (Iâll see later if we wanna have some smexy time in that form or notđ). Also the reader here is meant to be gender neutral but since I am extracting this from a novel Iâm writing, there might be some fem elements so Iâm doing my best to remove those.
Moodboards; Introductory Edit
Prologue: Dream Prophecy
Part 1: The run-in at the library
Part 2: The Seasonal Festival
Part 2.1: Project Assignment- reluctant cooperation
à»ê±àœČàŸàŒâș Pairings: Knight!jo (Duke!jo) x Princess!reader | Duke!Naoya x Princess!reader
à»ê±àœČàŸàŒâș Summary: A runaway heir of the Gojo clan, Satoru Gojo, escapes his duties and lives in secret as the knight âthe Ivory Sovereign.âprotecting the empire while hiding his true identity. Heâs assigned to guard the emperorâs daughter, but things get complicated when Duke Naoya interferes with her life. As Gojo grows emotionally attached to her, he struggles between revealing who he is and risking his freedom or staying hidden and losing his chance at love.
à»ê±àœČàŸàŒâș Content: MDNI, set in the 1800âs, female reader, knight & princess, slow burn, hidden identity, major angst, eventual smut, betrothed to Duke Naoya, unsaid feelings, heir in disguise, Gojo is wanted, adultery with Naoya and his concubines, major misogynistic behavior from Naoya to reader, formal English.
à»ê±àœČàŸàŒâș Authorâs note: Iâm back after a few months of being on break. My apologies for the long delay of my other fanfics. Of Ivory and Oaths & Temporary Guardian will be my main focus this month. Please bear with me <3
(TAGLIST IS OPEN)
à»ê±àœČàŸàŒâș Chapter 1: Preview
Gojo lowered his sword in a controlled motion, his grip loosening just enough to ease the strain in his arm. Though his body bore the quiet signs of exertion, his expression remained unchanged. Across from him, the knight he had faced studied him briefly before giving a small nod.
âYou are not without discipline,â the knight remarked in a low voice.
Gojo inclined his head slightly. âI am grateful for the assessment.â
Above them, the emperor had already returned to the platform. Soon, several high-ranking knights and officials gathered at his side, their voices low as they conferred. The deliberation was not rushed. Each man was considered with care, their skill weighed alongside their composure and restraint.
Time stretched long enough for unease to settle among the remaining volunteers.
At last, the emperor stepped forward once more. âI have reached my decision,â he declared.
Names followed, spoken with calm authority. Those chosen stepped forward, their relief restrained but evident. Others remained behind, their hopes quietly dissolving as the list continued.
When Gojoâs name was called, he stepped forward without hesitation. âSaouta Shirogane.â
He joined the selected few, standing in composed silence as the final names were announced. Once the selection concluded, the rest were dismissed, leaving only those deemed worthy to remain upon the grounds.
The emperor addressed them briefly, speaking of discipline and continued trials. Yet even as he spoke, his attention did not remain equally divided.
It returned, once again, to Gojo. âSaouta Shirogane,â he called.
Gojo stepped forward, bowing his head. âYour Majesty.â
The emperor descended from the platform, stopping a short distance before him. His gaze was sharp, thoughtful, as though measuring something beyond what had already been seen.
âYou conducted yourself with restraint,â he said. âThat alone sets you apart.â
Gojo remained still. âI acted as I deemed appropriate, Sire.â
The emperorâs eyes lingered briefly on his face, on the faintly concealed features that did not quite belong to a man of ordinary birth. âYou are not as simple as you appear,â he said, not unkindly.
A quiet pause followed before he continued. âThere is a duty I would entrust to you, one that requires both discretion and unwavering capability.â
Gojo inclined his head. âI am at Your Majestyâs command.â
The emperor turned slightly, gesturing toward the distant palace that rose beyond the training grounds. âYou shall not train with the others. Instead, you will serve within the inner court,â he said. âYour task is singular. You are to ensure the safety of my daughter, the Lady of this court.â
A faint shift passed among the nearby knights, though none spoke aloud. âThe princess is not to be left unguarded,â the emperor continued. âHer protection shall be your responsibility, and yours alone.â
Gojo bowed more deeply, acknowledging the weight of the command. âI understand, Your Majesty. I shall not fail in this duty.â
For a moment, the emperor regarded him in silence. Then, as though arriving at a final decision, he spoke once more.
âA man assigned to such a role must not only serve, but embody the authority of that duty,â he said. âYou shall not be known merely as another knight.â
Gojo remained still, listening. âYou will bear a title,â the emperor continued, his voice steady. âOne that reflects both your station and the manner in which you carry yourself.â
A brief pause followed, as if the name itself had already been decided long before this moment.
âFrom this day forth..âthe emperor declared, âyou shall be known asââ
ââthe Ivory Sovereign.â
@YeonaYearns STRICTLY, DO NOT STEAL NOR REPOST ON OTHER PLATFORMS.
Synopsis: A lot can be said about Sukuna. Heâs a true warrior. Beastly. A man fully capable of overthrowing the current regime if he wanted, but chooses not to because heâs lazy. Heâs also irritatingly persistent, that much is known with how many times heâs come into the brothel demanding your presence rather than going with all the other courtesans heâs been offered⊠for free, thanks to the power and status that comes with his name.
It's been years now. You canât hide from him forever, especially not when your mother, the Madame herself, is starting to grow tired of turning him down.
Cw: explicit smut, profanity, alcohol and tobacco use, historical au, loosely inspired by apothecary diaries and demon slayer, sukuna's a menace, the emperor's afraid of him, readers an oiran (highest rank)
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
notes: lol nvm about the hiatus thing, off we go to delulu land
You're a normal girl in college, a broke little barista and trying your best to keep your scholarships up - Satoru Gojo is not normal, not at all - he's the six eyes, the clan leader, and about to have to marry and take over. The two of you wish for something different when a rare comet shoots across the sky. And that's when you wake up in his body - Satoru Gojo, a powerful sorcerer a world away, and he wakes up in your tiny little dorm bed, with a pair of tits. The two of you stare in the mirror at unfamiliar faces and wonder if any of this is real, and just who the two of you were - could you get back to your bodies, and was a different life really any better?
pairings - Sorcerer! Satoru x fem! reader
warnings Based on the movie your name obviously - it will be very angsty, but also kinda cute - you will keep body swapping throughout, there will be a time difference - fix it fic. Toru is 22, you're 21. size difference to make it more dramatic and funny, canon adjacent (yes, I'm writing him as a sorcerer hehe) Geto never defected, eventual smut, lots of character and plot, emotional - planning on four parts to this. taglist open <3
art by @3-aem of courssee <333
part one
Life was normal before that comet shot across the sky.
You were just a normal college student â struggling in physics, but doing great in everything else. You had a part time job at a coffee shop in your little town, you had a boy you had a crush on and a few friends, but mostly â you studied. You studied till your eyes burned, till they hurt so badly you fell asleep right on your desk, drooling on whatever text book you had.
You didnât come from money â your family in fact was too broke to put you through college, but they loved you, they helped you get financial aid and scholarships so hopefully you could do better than they did. You loved them very much, too, there were video chats every day since you lived in the dorm outside of your city.
Days were just that â normal, as you worked on your degree, a wicked hangover on your twenty first birthday, where you finally got your first kiss. Yeah â you could say you were that much of an introvert, you hadnât even done that yet. You wish you remembered it more, it was something quick and hasty as fireworks went off, it was that time of year when you were born.
Something special, something beautiful, but something wasâŠ
Off.
It was off even that day. Maybe your period was coming or something, but everything on the day of your twenty-first felt off â especially when you got that damn letter saying if you didnât raise your physics grade youâd lose that funding.
Tears blurred your vision as you collapsed onto your bed with that letter, knowing if your parents knew how horribly you were doing they would be so disappointed. You couldnât help but wish for an escape from the crushing weight of all these expectations â many of which you placed on yourself, rushing to take that invite and get positively drunk at a party.
You didnât tell the guy it was your first kiss, you just did that â let him slide his tongue in your mouth and press you against a wall, then it was all a bit of a blur â you heading back to the dorm, sneaking away. Crying yourself to sleep even though you technically âhad funâ.
Why did you feel so lonely, though?
Yet when you woke up, everything changed.
Your body changed.
Your fucking room changed.
You were no longer in your little dorm â youâre in some fancy ass, rich ass room with an enormous bed and black silk sheets. You gasp and worry â did you end up with that dude last night? Did you think you got home but got too fucked up!? Your heart hammers in your chest as you peek down â and then you see it.
You see it and fucking scream so loud, seeing youâre wearing boxers rather than panties â and instead of your pussy, there was a dick. Oh, not a small dick, either â and not a soft one, a fully hard, massive fucking cock was on your body.
âWhat the fuck!? What!?â You jump up and fall, unused to the lanky ass legs that are currently under you, ones that cannot be yours â pale and muscular and so goddamn long. Youâre way too tall, so tall youâd hit your head in your fucking dorm, looking down at everything in shock, stumbling into a dresser.
Even your voice is deep and â sexy!? You rush over to this fancy dresser, gasping as you see a perfect face in a mirror â a manâs face, with beautiful blue eyes and cheekbones to fucking die for. You smack at that face as if reality will hit â seeing chest muscles where your titties should be, blushing in his pale skin as you see that bulge in the mirror.
You're inside the body of the hottest man youâve ever seen in some fancy ass home you could never afford!
âIt has to be some dream,â you curse and rush out, running down spiral stairs â how big is this manâs house?! Itâs a whole fucking confusing mansion, youâre rushing through everything, trying to find some hint of who he could be â of what weird ass fever dream youâre having, when the door knocks. âOne minute!â
Youâre rushing over now, opening it and seeing a dark haired man look at your body, rolling his eyes. âPut on some clothes, Satoru. We have training.â
âTraining?â He raises a brow at you, and you struggle to act normal, searching your brain for anything. âTrainingâŠâ
âYeah, Satoru â training. Just because youâre perfect at everything doesnât mean me and Shoko donât need more practice. We have to set a good example if we wanna teach some day.â
âTeach. ExamplesâŠâ
The man blinks his amethyst eyes, looking right at you now, too close, so close you fucking blush again. âWhatâs wrong with you, Satoru?â
Satoru â who was Satoru?
*****
Satoru was exhausted as he trained his fucking ass off, entirely exhausted â he wanted a break, he wanted a vacation, he didnât want to fight anymore curses, or see anymore of his old classmates die. He didnât want to take over the Gojo family name, and he sure the fuck didnât look forward to the inevitable arranged marriage the elders were about to place on him.
Standing in his shower since he was covered in grime from fucking curses exploding, he couldnât help but wonder what it would be like if he was not born a Gojo at all â what would it be like if instead, he had been someone normal? If he was just a normal guy at college, and not training to teach the newbies at Jujutsu high?
If he were a normal twenty two year old man who wasnât about to have to become the clan leader, and take on all this goddamn responsibility he didnât ask for? Sure, Satoru loved to be the strongest â but that didnât mean he enjoyed the constant effort, the secrets, the lies they told â the way everything fell on him and his friends, all the expectations making him drown.
He was a Gojo â they were the strongest, and thatâs all there was to it. Day in, day out, everything was simple. KIll everything bad, save everyone he could, but goddamit if he wasnât exhausted, if he didnât just want to go be a normal guy â maybe go study physics, study theories of the universe he wishes even he could know more about.
Go look at the stars with a pretty girl and laugh, a girl he chose.
Yet that doesnât appear to be anything he will get â no, he was born a Gojo, and that was that. Even falling asleep in his silk sheets that night, he could not stop his mind from racing, frowning as thoughts raced through his mind at a rampant pace.
How could Satoru Gojo ever live a normal life?
Well, he wondered what normal meant that next morning when he felt hungover â something he never, ever was. Satoru did not drink, it dulled his senses too much, but every now and then he had gone out with Suguru and Shoko, Nanami throwing back whiskey like it was nothing, but he could barely hold one without getting sick.
And does he feel sick â and he feels sad, more sad than before, like emotional in a way he canât remember being. He reached out as he felt tears burning his eyes â that doesnât happen, either. Satoru trained himself not to cry from a young age, but now heâs doing just that, his fingers touching unfamiliar cheeks that were wet with tears he hadn't shed in years.
Unfamiliar.
He looks at this shitty little bed then and screams, plopping out of it â his arms fucking flailing. He canât even take looking at these thighs â not his lanky ass legs, no, theyâre cute thighs, ones he himself would grab and spread if it belonged to a pretty girl underneath him. Cute lil socks on his ankles covered in kittens.
Kittens!?
Satoru stumbles again, bashing his head and feeling hair fall against his shoulders, shocked with that alone, but especially not being white. He stands and rushes to the little dresser â too small for him, everything is too small for him, but he is not six foot four, not one goddamn bit he realizes, looking at his reflection, at the pretty tits half falling out of a tank top spun.
Tits on his body!? He grabs them and squishes them in his hands, confused as fuck now, but he canât help but keep squishing these pretty tits, as if they could rid him of the fucking stress, looking at the unfamiliar face. Softer features than his, completely different in every way â though sheâŠ
He!?
This body was beautiful, this face was lovely, the type of girl heâd flirt with or throw on his charm, but be just a little nervous, a little shy. Her lips are swollen as if sheâd been kissed all night, he knows that look from women heâs been with, that hung over, fucked out look â thoughâŠ
He doesnât feel fucked â well how would he know!?!? He pulls aside those shorts, blushing and then covering back up, the panties were just a little wet, soaking the matching kittens. And thatâs when it hits him, that clenching feeling in his tummy â heâs got a pussy.
And TITS.
Satoru Gojo is aâŠ
Knock knock knock.
Maybe itâs Suguru and this is a joke, maybe this is a curse fucking with him â itâs one of those terrible fucking villains who make his life hell, and heâs cast under something. Or itâs a test â Yaga is fucking with him, making sure he can tell whatâs real or not. Some Gojo initiation.
Anything but what this is â when a girl knocks at the door and smiles at Satoru, leaning against the door and crossing her arms.
âHow was the first kiss, birthday girl?â She teases, Satoru blinks.
âUm⊠kissâŠâ
She says your name then.
Your name, is that your name?
Just who are you?
âAre you skipping physics? Arenât you failing bad?â She asks now, clearly concerned as Satoru sputters.
HIM failing physics? There was no fucking way â well, that and Satoru IS NOT A WOMAN. âFailing? Nah, I donât fail any subject.â
âGirl last night you were a mess about it, whatâs wrong?â She asks again, he shakes his head, well â your head â and your phone is ringing. âGonna get that?â
âYeah.â
Whatâs your pattern!? Whatâs your phone pattern!? He tries so many times he gets completely locked out, cursing. âMaybe youâre still drunk?â
âUm yeah, Iâm gonna take a shower and⊠get it together!â Satoru says, trying to get used to the girlie voice rather than his own, laughing as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck â much softer than his own. When she finally leaves he leans against the door, picking up that phone again â a glittery pink one.
What the fuck?
*****
You were wearing this unfamiliar dark clothing â youâll give Satoru this, the man has taste â it was as fancy as clothing could get. Youâre absolutely sure that it costs more money than anything in your dorm put together, even these shades you have to wear must be expensive.
One moment youâre another girl, the next â youâre seeing curses.
"Focus, Gojo,â Suguru is his name â apparently, the man with the long dark hair, smiling tiredly as he smokes a cigarette. âYouâre off today.â
âRight, focusâŠâ You trail off and sigh, holding up your hand and gasping when blinding light erupts from your palms, obliterating the practice dummies right in front of you. You stare at your shaking hands â huge ones, by the way, all of this goddamn man was huge. âI did that!?â
âRub it in,â Shoko teases, laughing as she leans against Suguru, smoking a cigarette and laughing at you a bit. âWe know youâre the best, Gojo. Stop acting as if youâre like us.â
âIâm notâŠâ You trail off then, focusing on this insane fucking energy again, feeling it course through your veins.
You donât even get tired, like something is regenerating you constantly.
What the fuck was this? What was this power, these creatures, any of it they were talking about? You can only hope when you go to bed tonight, everything is fucking normal â that youâre failing physics, and that youâre not a six foot four rich man who seemingly never gets a break.
And you thought you worked hard.
Every moment of Satoru Gojoâs day was taken up â from training, to this driver named Ijichi who takes him all over, to the next meeting where you have to fucking hope you can keep up this act, a room full of doors, interrogating Satoru about his upcoming wedding.
This man is getting married?
There are photos of prospective brides, and all you can do is shuffle through them, curious when the fuck you were going to wake up and not have a dick.
****
âYou cheated on this test!â The professor of physics comes and yells at Satoru after he aces the test, he raises a brow at her. âNo way you didnât.â
âWhy would I cheat?â
âYou are the worst student in my class,â she slams the paper on Satoruâs desk, a blank test with different questions. âDo this, and Iâll watch you the whole time.â
His classmates â well theyâre your classmates â look at him, all worried, but he aces the goddamn test again, until sheâs sputtering. Satoru can see why you suck at physics, considering how mean she is â but luckily he just knows everything, and she canât argue a second time.
âWell, I guess you pass.â She mumbles, handing him his paper with a hundred percent. âBarely!â
Satoru is tired when his phone goes off â work at six.
WORK.
He has to go work!?
He re-set your pattern to a fingerprint, so he got your phone open â and found just where you work, a little coffee shop. Satoru was a goddamn barista. He was getting bitched out by customers when heâs used to fighting curses â and thatâs the craziest thing of all, besides having tits and a pussy.
He couldnât see well â in fact, your vision was shitty. You had to wear glasses and these weird contact things, and he certainly couldnât see curses â they could be all around, and he wouldnât sense them.
He had to get back to his damn body.
*****
Youâre so tired when you come back to the Gojo mansion you plop in the living room chair, yawning and kicking off his dress shoes, eyes shutting with your head leaned back. Your body is sore, and you still canât sleep â this aching, gnawing feeling of being inside this huge body taking over, wondering just what sort of hallucination you were having.
You fall asleep on that couch, as Satoru crashes face first in your tiny little dorm room, and the two of you wonderâŠ
Will you wake up from this weird fucking dream, of bodies you two can't recognize? Was any of this real?
patreon - comms
as these are short they'll actually be coming out fast hehe - this was eating me UP I can't wait for some juicy angst
gojo fics | in honor of a situationship ending today i present you the better, fictional ending of what bs transpired
-> "fears" [pt. 2 to this]
satoru gojo x non-sorcerer! reader
Synopsis: You consider yourself to be a pretty understanding person, but when the guy you're seeing fails to properly communicate with you, you begin to spiral.
to sum it up: why can't satoru just text you back?!
WC: 7,693
Warning(s): some angst, ends in fluff
There is one thing in this world that you truly can not stand. One thing that drives you insane above all other pet peeves, one thing that you just can't seem to react calmly to every single time it is presented to you.
And that is lacking communication.
When you started seeing Satoru, you didn't expect much from him. Tall stature, ivory hair, dazzling sapphire eyes were only a few signifiers of his popularity with the female population, and unfortunately, with you as well.Â
You aren't quite sure how he roped you in. You'd known him long enough, been friends long enough to give it a little push, to entertain his flirtations just a little bit despite your gut screaming at you to turn the other way, to let him bother some other hopeless case.
But that look in his pretty eyes, the one soft and precious enough to make you give him a chance, the one that led you to subconsciously lower your guard as you gazed into authenticity rather than suave and arrogance for the very first time, is what made you give it a shot. After all, you decided, a few months of knowing someone is enough to have an idea of how they'd treat you on dates, how they'd handle you in a relationship.
And what you do primarily know about Gojo is not his occupation, which he brushes over rather frequently, and not his home life, but his wealth. The man is loaded. You can tell simply by glancing at the time piece wrapped around his taut wrist and the ridiculously overpriced sunglasses that he pulls down the bridge of his nose to wink at you. You know that, even if trying to get to know him romantically ends in disaster, that you'd at the very least get a good fucking date out of it.
But the problem is that it didn't end at just one good date. What you had assumed to be a little fling, a one time outing, a test of his confidence actually turned out to be one of the best dates youâd ever been on. Satoru's a gentleman, in an annoying kind of way. He'll sport that cheeky grin as he holds the door for you and leads you to the finest seat of the establishment, and he'll lounge back in his seat as he gazes at you fondly, lips curving into that devilish smile as the softest of compliments tumbles from them.
He calls you beautiful like it's the first time he's ever said it, and however skeptical you may be, you detect it. You hear it. You see the truth in his eyes, hear it in the stutter of his words that he attempts to hide with jokes and false suave. However pompous Satoru Gojo may be outside of this territory, he's humbled into a rather pathetic sap at your hand, and you... well you like it. You really do.
So you let it sweep you up just a little bit, easing the air as you laugh freely about work stories that he only listens to and does not share himself. And that is another thing that surprises you. He only wants to hear about you, to learn about you, to understand you and your functions and divert from any topic of himself.
You notice it. You've taken note of it ever since you've known him. You thought that going on a date with him would have reduced some of his mystery, but alas, he remains an enigma in your eyes. An overly sweet, rather playfully irritating, gorgeous enigma. Something in your gut tells you not to trust it, but the way your hand slips into his as the two of you stroll the city after dinner says otherwise - or at least says that you don't mind the mystique. That you can play pretend just for a little while.
He tells you he wants to see you again. That he's practically chomping at the bit to take you out once more. That he's got all these date ideas swimming around in his head that have been plaguing him since the very day that he met you. That befriending you has brightened his life, and you allowing him to court you has opened his eyes to the world's beauty even more.
Satoru is all dimpled grins and sweet nothings, and you hate that you love it. You slap him on the chest with a scoff of a laugh and shake your head, but he means every word he says. You know he does. You allow yourself to think he does. Because he doesn't want you to feel as though he's playing pretend. He wants you to feel alive the way you make him feel. He wants you to sink into the notion, and trust that someone like him could actually take care of you.
So you go home after your date and wait for him to text you, to respond to your message saying that you had a great time, that you want to do this again when he's free, but it remains unanswered for a day and a half. And the first seed of doubt implants itself into your gut.Â
He comes back the following night like nothing, responding as though he's answered you in minutes, expressing how much he enjoyed the night and shares your sentiments, and you text him back with a wrinkle in your brow that you try to brush off.
And you try not to be. You try to be the understanding individual that you are, though he still doesn't clarify just what he does for work other than the fact that he works with kids and helps with their training. Training for what, you aren't sure, but you don't push it any further since he does not willingly offer up the information. Perhaps he's just guarded in that realm. Perhaps he signed some NDA. Hell, perhaps work really is digging into his free time. Even when you and Satoru became friends, he never texted all that often. You only are now noticing it because you've stepped into a different territory regarding your relationship, and your heart and mind have inflicted unwarranted expectations onto the man who so desperately wants to see you again.
You're annoyed, but you let it slide. The first time.
you | it's okay i understand, just lmk when you're busy or i'll think you died or something
satoru | that should be the least of your concerns, but noted!!! i'll do better.
And you schedule the next date, and unsurprisingly, your heart tugs into his direction even more. He takes you to an amusement park, something you vaguely mentioned in passing that you'd want to revisit because you rarely got to go as a kid. Hours of cotton candy, kettle corn, ferris wheel rides, and teddy bears later, he looks you in the eye and tells you how much he likes you - even with lingering sugar stuck to your shiny lips and your eyes reflecting the fireworks that burst overhead. He peers down at you with that soft gaze and gentle smile, cheeks warm and hair tossed by summer breeze, and you lean up on your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before he walks you to the car.
Surely, you expect some more conversation when you send him a picture of you and the bear he won from that carnie cuddled up in bed together that night, but once more, a day and a half passes, and he pops in out of the blue, responding like no time has passed again.
You feel yourself growing aggravated, but it's early, you tell yourself. He said he was busy with work, and it was nearing the end of the week, so you grant him that grace. You try your damndest to shovel down the doubts that begin to rise and focus on your own job, attempting to burrow the thoughts of him that begin to swarm your mind at the worst of times.
Then he calls you another day later, and you answer rather flatly.
"Hello."
"Hiii beautiful," Satoru sings into the phone. "What are you up to this weekend? Care to grace me with your presence?"
And his voice, so silky and playful, almost makes you forget your frustrations now that you're actually speaking to him. Almost. "Maybeee," you sigh.
"Uh oh. What's wrong? You hate me now?"
"No, I don't hate you. Stop saying that."
"Then what's wrong? You sound kinda... tired."
You rub your temple as you try to find the words. "Is everything okay with work? You've been really distant."
There's a slight pause. "Have I?" he questions as though he is genuinely confused by the sentiment. "I'm sorry, I honestly didn't realize. I'm not a good texter. You could ask my coworkers. I suck."
"It's fine. I know you're busy - it's just... I mean, could I ask what your intentions are with me?"
"Sure you can."
"...Well, what are they? Is this just a fling... or-"
"God, I hope not!" he chuckles, a hint of nervousness in his tone. "Why... is that what you want?"
"No. I just... if it's what you want then..."
"It's not," Satoru says earnestly. "I like you. I want to keep seeing you and only you. Seriously."
"So not like a fling?"
"Not at all like a fling."
"Okay..."
"Do you want that too? To keep dating me seriously?"
"...Yeah. Maybe," your cheeks flush.
Satoru takes the opportunity to lighten the mood and runs with it. "Maybe?? You tryin' to give me a heart attack?"
You snort. "You're dramatic."
"Only about you, pretty girl."
You close your eyes and exhale slowly. "Then... if we're being serious about this... I really don't care if you're busy. I promise I don't. But I get really weird about communication... and I'd prefer it if you told me beforehand when you'd be busy so I'm not expecting a text from you. Because... you really do respond late as hell. I know that's nothing new, but now that we're seeing each other... I just want more clarification. Is that... something you could do?"
He's silent for a moment, pensive, you think. "Of course it is, (Y/n)," he finally says, the humor leaving his voice. "I know you already mentioned that. I'm really sorry. My job is just - I don't have a lot of free time and things tend to slip my mind."
You store those words in a vault. You slip his mind? Does that mean he isn't thinking about you enough to care to reach out?
You try not to let the thought swallow you, and remain present in his words.
"Those kids must have you running ragged, huh?" you try to joke yourself, hoping for an opening to learn more.
"Like you wouldn't believe," he murmurs. "I'll tell you more about it some other time. Don't wanna bore you with the details."
"You could never bore me..." you trail off.
You hear a smile return. "You like me, huh?"
"Shut the fuck up."
Satoru laughs loudly, and you hate the way your lips twitch to smile as you duck your head and try to force it away. "So mean," he whines. "You could never bore me either, for the record. And I really am sorry about my texting. I get distracted easily."
You roll your eyes, heart pounding in your ears. "Yeah, yeah."
"...Soooo, this weekend?"
"I'm free, you idiot."
And this weekend, he takes you to the fucking opera. Why? God only knows, but he tells you to dress pretty and that he'll pick you up adorned in a dark tux, and the only thing you can think about as you sit on the balcony with those binoculars you've only seen in Pretty Woman is that this man knows exactly how to make you feel like royalty, as long as he's physically with you.
His hand grazes the small of your back and when you turn to look at him with the glitter of your dangly earrings shining against your (s/c) skin, and an awed smile stretched from ear to ear during intermission, he melts. And you do too.Â
And you decide, in that very moment, that the opera is your new favorite place to visit.
"I've never done that before."
Your head snaps into Satoru's direction as he waits for the valet to bring his car around after the show, hand around your waist, his cologne clinging to your fabrics. "Done what?" you ask softly, your head still light from the amazement you witnessed in the form of grand voices that tugged at the strings of your heart.
He looks down at you, lids low. "Gone to the opera."
You furrow your brows, though smiling. "What?" you laugh. "Then why'd you take me?"
He shrugs. "Thought we could experience something new together," he says. "You also said once that your mom used to play a lot of Puccini, so. I don't know. Thought it'd be cool."
Your eyes slim though your heart soars. "Do you even know who Puccini is?"
"He's an opera singer."
You cackle. "He's an opera composer."
"Oh. Well, same thing."
"You're insane," you giggle, holding your abdomen as Satoru's hand glides up the silk of your back.
"Didn't seem so insane when you were crying during the last thirty minutes."
"Hey, I didn't say it wasn't good!" you finally calm down, looking back up at him. You sigh out. "It was really beautiful. I can't believe you took us here off a whim though."
"But you liked it, right?" he smiles with the tilt of his head.
You purse your lips as your cheeks glow with warmth. "I loved it."
His smile warms. "Then my job is done." The atmosphere thickens as he pulls back slightly to lift a hand to the side of your face, slender fingertips gently brushing at something under your eye. You blink, holding his gaze as his hand hesitantly settles upon your cheek, thumb caressing your flushed skin. "Eyelash," he mumbles, voice dipping.
You hardly hear him, the lights of the theatre aglow around you as your faces inches further toward one another. Satoru's bright eyes have grown heavy and serious, pupils swollen with the image of you as the distance between your lips shrinks.
"Was it really an eyelash?" you whisper as he looks over your face contently, completely swept up in you.
"No," he says.
And the distance closes. Your lips meet. His arms encircle you, and you can not go back.
You forget that he doesn't tell you about work like he said he would. You forget that his communication when the two of you aren't physically together is not ideal. You forget it all, and let him kiss you like you mean something to him, and let come inside with you when he drives you home as though he's promised himself to you.
You wake up the next morning to an empty bed and a text saying that he had to run much to his chagrin. But it's Sunday. No ordinary person works on a Sunday, so, rather abruptly, his sound excuse crumbles, and you are left with the empty imprint of his body in your sheets where he held you close.
You text him back expressing how much you enjoyed the night, and like always, nothing comes in return.
You elect to wash the sheets.
The assumptions come flooding into your mind as you busy yourself with cleaning the space after the two of you had left it in such a wreck. He couldn't even bother to straighten up on his way out.
Is he married? Does he have any kids? A secret family? Is he fucking other women behind your back and trying to hide it? Is he even employed?
The possibilities wreck your brain as time passes, and every second he does not respond weighs down on your shoulders, as you begin to think that this was all just a trap - that he successfully baited you into sleeping with him. Using false promises, pretty dates, and his charm to weasel his way into your body, pretending to be enamoured with you as he held eye contact through every second, as he talked you through every second, as he swore to do right by you every second he was inside of you.
And now he's gone. A memory that has tinged itself in resentment with the setting of the sun and his sheer lack of reply. You think of calling him, but you decide that would look desperate. You think of telling him off, but decide that would look too hasty.
You try to understand. Desperately you do, but how can you when you are left high and dry every single time he leaves your presence? How can you when he doesn't bother to think of you when you aren't around? How can you when he doesn't even have the decency to let you know that he's okay? To tell you the truth if he's hiding something? To be up front if he's kept secrets?
You don't do well with lack of communication. Even if he's a bad texter, your mind does not jump to that simple solution. In the absence of words, your mind jumps into overdrive. You conjure up the worst possible solutions, the most outrageous notions, and you stew in them until you get answers.
So that night before bed, you double text.
you | hey... you good? what did you have to go do?
And you wait with your phone clutched in trembling hands for a text that does not come. So you put his messages on mute, turn over, and try to sleep.
But your heart wails for its capture, as you realize you're falling for someone who can't even text you back. Your dreams are haunted by your anxieties, by the thought of him running off to his family, by the thought of him texting other women, by the thought of him hiding something monumental from you.
Because that is something that you know for certain, that he is protecting something with his life. Whether it is good or bad, you do not know, but you doubt that you will access it any time soon.
The next morning you get up early to go grab a cup of coffee. Your texts remain unanswered, despite having muted his messages, so to drown your irritation, you take a walk to the nearest coffee shop.
On your way out however, you see him. Clad in a dark blindfold that spikes his fluffy hair upward, the same hair that your fingers were entwined in two nights prior, and a strange black uniform adorning his entire body.
But next to him... next to him is a brunette woman with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and heavy, yet entrancing circles tracing under her eyes. They walk closely beside one another. She says something. Satoru laughs. And your heart shatters.
Sheâs beautiful.
Not only did Satoru refuse to answer your text, but he refused to because he was busy with another woman.
And when you look down, that stupid phone of his is clutched in his hand.
You consider yourself to be a reasonable woman. You always try to exercise patience, to see all sides of a situation even if it makes you uncomfortable, to not act with your emotions first but with empathy, for you never know what other people may have going on in their lives.
Satoru told you he'd try, but weeks have passed, and his communication remains the same. And it's not because he's busy, but because he merely does not want to speak to you. Because his time is occupied by another bitch, who he probably ran off to the second he was done fucking you.
Anger bubbles in your gut. You knew it. You knew something was wrong. You knew that someone like him couldn't possibly be loyal to you. You knew that it was all too good to be true, that his silence answered for something he refused to name.
Now you see it. And against your better judgment, against your carefully exercised patience, against your logic, you steep in red. You're hurt, you're embarrassed, you're betrayed.
So instead of trying to understand, you let all of your insecurities and doubts pile up and explode, using them as a justification for what you see. You toss your overpriced coffee to the ground, it splatters at your feet, and you march across the street with steam rising from your head to save you from tears.
Satoru seems to sense you when you are halfway to him, and his laughter dies down. His face drops, and he turns to you in shock, or what you assume to be shock, as you aren't entirely sure due to the blindfold hiding his eyes.
The brunette's eyes float to you after Satoru's attention diverts, and she blinks cluelessly as you stomp toward him.
"(Y/n)!" he starts in surprise, but the very sound of his voice only infuriates you.
"Don't you fucking (Y/n) me. What the fuck is your problem?" you jab your index finger toward him. The brunette's eyes widen slightly, and she slowly looks up to Satoru as if she's caught a child getting in trouble.
Satoru stammers, hands raising at your foreign, accusatory tone. "What are y-"
"You just fuck me after a date and then disappear again? Like you fucking always do?" you shout. The brunette's hand goes to her mouth, but you doubt she's uncomfortable. In fact, it almost looks like she's enjoying this.
It pisses you off.
Satoru's cheeks flush red as he glances over at the woman frantically, then back down at you. "(Y/n), can we talk about this somewhere else?"
"No! No, we can't talk about it somewhere else! Have I not told you a hundred times that I need better communication if this is gonna work? Every time you tell me you'll get better, that you're sorry, but nothing fucking changes! I don't know why the hell I thought it would change after you had sex with me!" you pause to chuckle cynically. "That's fucking hilarious! What the hell was I thinking? That you'd suddenly be loyal to me because you called me pretty and took me out three times? Christ, I'm a fucking idiot!"
Satoru tries to take a step closer. "You're not an idiot," he reaches for you, but you swat his hand away. He reels, stepping back as though you've burned him with clamped, wobbly lips.
"Don't fucking touch me. You can't use me anymore. I won't let you. I'm done. I told you how I feel about this shit, and you've ignored me every single time. I don't wanna talk to someone who doesn't take me seriously and who lies about it."
"But I do take you seriously," he pleads. "I told you, I do-"
"If you did, you would have responded. You would have called. You wouldn't let me initiate damn near every single conversation. You'd hear me when I express something to you," you fume, tears building in your eyes. "How am I supposed to trust you if you can't even do that? If you won't even tell me what you do for work? If you're clearly able to pick up the phone, but not for me? If you're actively with another woman while I wait for you to fucking reply days later?"
The brunette raises her hand slowly, lazily, hesitant to interrupt. "Sorry, but," she starts, and your eyes snap to her heatedly. "I'm his-"
"I don't give a fuck what you are, okay?" you interrupt. Her hand falls and she nods, rather unintimidated. "I'm done. Hear me? Done. Lose my fucking number."
With that, you turn over your shoulder and march back off across the street, leaving Satoru and the brunette to reel in the aftermath of your outburst.
Satoru blinks, watching you retreat with his heart weighing down in his chest. A lump of shame builds in his throat, and he remains rigid as if he is still being yelled at.
"So," Shoko starts awkwardly. "That was her?"
"Yep, that was... that was her," he finally says, dejectedly.
There's a beat.
"You fucked her then left her on delivered?"
"Shoko," Satoru whines, turning to her with a slump in his dejected posture. "Please don't start, you just watched the woman I'm crazy about stomp on my heart and leave it on the pavement to get shit on."
"Okay well, if you're so crazy about her, why haven't you texted her back?"
The ivory haired sorcerer sighs. "Because I'm in too deep."
"Clearly you already were."
"That's not what I-" he glares with a pout at her innuendo, but Shoko looks up at him boredly, expectantly. Satoru groans. "Because I'm a sorcerer and she's not, and the kind of life I live isn't meant for her."
"Then why pursue her in the first place?"
"I couldn't help it," he ducks his head, scratching the nape of his neck. "She's sweet, she's smart, she's... she's strong, and so pretty. Iâm obsessed with her," he shakes his head. "And you know Gakuganji's been sending me on all these stupid ass missions back to back too. He knows I'm gettin' distracted. Between that, and Yuji, and... I just don't wanna hurt her."
"Eh. Too late for that."
"You're not helping," he groans. "I'm serious. What if she becomes a target because I'm around her too much? What if she finds out what I do and thinks I'm crazy?"
"If you like her as much as you say you do, then... I don't know. Just be honest. Just go for it."
"And put her in danger?"
"There's always danger with you around, Satoru. Why should it matter if it means you can be happy?"
Satoru purses his lips. "It matters 'cause I'm not just some sorcerer. It matters because she could get killed."
"Is she worth it?"
He looks off into the direction you stormed off in and his heart aches at the thought of losing you this way. "Yeah," he frowns.
"Then protect her. Sheâs not gonna get hurt with you around."
Satoru turns back to look at his close friend, hooking a finger under his blindfold to peer at her with his icy gaze. "Why are you telling me that?"
Shoko sighs. "'Cause I haven't seen you this happy since Suguru died," she says rather casually, as if the very statement did not send memories flashing rapidly through Satoru's brain. "That and I like her."
"You like her?" Satoru squints his eyes. "You just met her, and she yelled at the both of us."
"Yeah, it was nice to see a woman give you her ass to kiss," she says flatly.
Satoru deflates, lowering his blindfold back over his eyes with a sorrowful exhale. "...It was kinda hot, right?"
"For the love of god. Go fucking text her, moron."
He will, for what you don't know is that every time he leaves you, he sticks around in secret to make sure you get to your destination safely as he watches from afar, six eyes detailing your every move. What you don't know is that during every mission, he stares at the contact picture he's saved of you mid-laugh, your eyes scrunched tight and all pretty teeth of yours on display, just to get him through the day. What you don't know is how he babbles about you, the amazing, gorgeous woman he's seeing that everyone at work thinks is fake, every single chance that he gets, hearts fluttering in his eyes at the mere thought of you, his constant babble in front of his students making them all want to gag.
What you don't know is how silently he yearns for you when he forces himself not to respond, when the fears of what could happen to you as a result of others trying to get to him stop his fingers from clicking the keys. When the higher ups barely allow him a moment to breathe as he teleports between countries long enough for days to slip into nights, and he's only back in time to realize that another day has gone by without him reaching out to you, texting you, hearing your pretty voice, seeing your pretty face.
What you don't know is the toll that his occupation takes on him. What you don't know is who he really is to the world, and how hard it is to balance having feelings for you with taking care of the entire planet.
But you are worth it. He pictures your sleeping form curled into his chest, your makeup smeared and your hair messy, and your heart peacefully pattering against his skin. His heart clenches.
You're so worth it.
"Shoko, tell Yaga I'm taking the day off."
"Ummm, sure, but he's not gonna - " Before she can finish, he's vanished into thin air, and she rolls her eyes. " - like it," she eventually trails off, pulling out her phone and continuing her walk.
You're at the door of your house, trembling with anger, when you feel a strange breeze pick up behind you, and when you turn around, you find Satoru standing there behind you in all of his six something glory.
You jump with a yelp. "How the fuck did you just - what the hell?!"
"Sorry. I'm sorry, pretty. Hey," he reaches for his blindfold and yanks it off. You watch as snowy hair falls back down to frame his face as he tucks the fabric into his pocket to look at you clearly, see you can see him. The pain in his eyes, the regret, the desperation, and you watch with knitted brows, red eyes, and a deep frown. He hates the sight on your face. "I'm sorry. For everything. I'm so sorry."
"Satoru, how did you - " you look around, still confused as to how he just appeared behind you like that, but then you remember your rage. "Whatever. Go away, I don't want to talk to you."
You go to reach for your door handle, but he grabs your hand. You yank it away, turning hotly on your heel to glare up at him. He holds his hands up in defense.
"(Y/n), please. I'm sorry. Just let me explain. You had every right to say what you said back there, but - "
"Damn right I did. You're a liar, Satoru."
"Okay, I'm not a liar. I've never been a liar."
"Then what do you call what I just saw? You were out with another woman! You told me that you were only seeing me!"
"I am only seeing you! That was Shoko, Shoko is my coworker!"
"Your-" you stop yourself, staring hard into his eyes as if trying to read if he's telling the truth. "Your coworker? She's your coworker who you were walking around with on a Monday morning while actively ignoring my texts? And you still won't even tell me where you work! How am I supposed to believe you?"
"Because, (Y/n), I swear to you that she has never been anything but a friend and peer to me. We went to high school together. We work at the same place."
"Which is?"
"I - " he hesitates. "I can't... tell you like this. It's not - it's hard to explain."
"Sure it is," you scoff. "Goodbye, Satoru."
"(Y/n), please," the sapphire eyed sorcerer begs, and he panics the moment your keys jam into the lock and your hand grips that handle tight. He panics, images of Suguru turning his back to him flickering through his head, years of loneliness flashing by, then you. You and your smile, you and your laughter, you and your sunshine that he's somehow turned to rain.
He can't lose you. Not to this. Not to any other threat.
"(Y/n)," he calls you, and when you still don't answer as you push open your front door, the words blurt out. "I'm a sorcerer."
You freeze. Satoru's heart drops to his stomach, his eyes wide, and you slowly turn over your shoulder. "You're what?"
The ivory haired man gulps. "I'm..." he gets lost in your harsh eyes, and all logic fails him. "I'm... that's what I do. I'm a... sorcerer."
You watch him, befuddled. "What the hell is a sorcerer? Like - like DND?"
"Kind of...?"
Your shoulders slump, and you stare at Satoru with a quirked brow. "Are you shitting me? Now you're gonna tell me you have a made-up job?"
"It's not made up," Satoru's voice dips into something more serious.
"Oh really? Then what the hell does a 'sorcerer' do?"
Satoru looks into your innocent eyes and sighs as he prepares to warp your perception of what is real and what is not. He hates to do this to you. He really does, but a woman like you deserves his truth. The good, the bad, the ugly. As long as you'll take him. It's a risk he's willing to take.
Suguru would have had his fucking head for doing something like this.
Your eyes go wide, as the man that was once in front of you completely disappears from sight. Your head jerks back, your eyes darting about the vacant space, and you breathe out a gasp of confusion. Are you hallucinating? Are you going crazy?
You step away from your door, which is now ajar, looking all around you like you've lost your mind, and for a moment you think you have.
"I'm here, pretty."
You rip your body around with lightning speed, shoulders bunched to your ears as you stare wildly at the vision of Satoru now halfway through your doorway. You're frozen with something between stun and fear, and you stumble back, dazed. You look behind you, then turn to face him again as he steps forward. "You - you - how did - you just - "
"I know," Satoru exhales, dimple poking his cheek as his mouth twists to the side. "I know. I'm sorry. That was probably really weird."
"Satoru," you murmur lowly. "How the hell did you just do that?"
"I'm a sorcerer," he says again, like it means something, like it could make any of this make sense. "Certain things I'm able to just do."
"You teleported?"
"Mhm," he finally is able to approach you in your state of shock, monitoring your rapid heartbeat and your doe-like eyes. "I do... a lot of other things, but I - I don't want to overwhelm you."
 Your hands fly to your head. "What the fuck," you breathe out, looking up and down his frame. "I must be - dreaming or something - "
"You're not. I'm real. This is real."
You shake your head. "It can't be."
Satoru presses his lips together, watching you carefully as he holds his hand out to you. "Try to touch me."
You scrunch your nose. "What?"
"Just try it."
Against your better judgment, you do. You inch a finger toward him slowly only to meet an invisible wall that blocks you from coming in contact with his open palm. Your brows knit, and you attempt to touch him again, but to no avail. You poke and poke, then slap a hand against the shield, before ripping away. "Ohhh, what the fuck," you murmur under your breath. âWhat the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.â
"(Y/n), listen. C'mere. Please."
Satoru rushes around you as you turn to mull over what you've just witnessed, dropping his infinity the moment he's holding your gaze again. His hands fly to hold your shoulders, keeping you steady in your stupor. You look down at the hands holding you, wondering how he can touch you now. "Listen, okay? Please, please don't be scared."
"I'm not - scared, I'm fucking confused!"
"I know, baby. I know. And I'll try my best to explain everything, but listen, it's really dangerous that I'm telling you and showing you this, alright? You gotta promise me you won't tell anyone."
You squint your eyes. "Who would I-?"
"Just promise me," he says sternly. For the first time, you see Satoru as he is, firm, a force, a being to be reckoned with. Someone to take seriously. You stare up at him, dumbfounded. "Promise, okay? I don't want you getting hurt."
"...But how - "
"Please, (Y/n). Promise me."
You see the same truth in his eyes that first brought you to him, and you slowly relax as best as you can. "I promise."
Satoru exhales a breath he did not realize he was holding. "Good. Thank you." You nod mutely, still completely awed. Satoru notices and takes the opportunity to continue now that he's got you like this. Now that you'll hear him. "(Y/n), I really like you. I really, really do."
"...What does that have to do with - "
"I like everything about you. I like every moment we spend together. I like holding your hand, and kissing you, and feeling you, and the hardest thing I ever had to do was leave you alone yesterday morning to go to work. My job is... it's hard to explain, but I do work with kids. And I do train them... to become sorcerers. To become strong like me. That may not mean anything to you right now, but it's my life. My whole entire life, and because I am who I am, everyone expects a lot from me, you understand? Every day I have to drop what I'm doing to take care of really fucked up things, and I'm really sorry that I've left you hanging in the process. I'm really, so sorry, princess. I know I said I'd get better with communicating, but it's not really easy to tell the girl you're seeing that I had to go to Italy to exorcise thirty curses - "
"What?"
"Nothing. It doesn't matter. What matters is you. What matters is that I made you feel unheard and tossed aside because I was too scared of putting you in harm's way, or because I literally have no time to myself. The time I do have, I spend with you. And then it's all over so soon and I leave you hating me because I can't be there for you like a normal man. I so badly want to be that for you, but I'm just not. And I'm sorry. I should've found more time, I should've communicated, I should've done anything to make you feel safe but I just did the opposite. And I'll hate myself forever for doing that to you because you⊠because I just care about you so much. And I don't ever want to make you feel the way I have ever again."
Silence swallows you whole after Satoru has ceased his rant. You can feel his fingers lightly digging into your shoulders, eager for you to say anything in return, but you just stare at him in awe, overwhelmed, so so confused... but somehow relieved.
Satoru's brows curl upward. "Please say something. Anything. Say you hate me. Or you think I'm crazy - do you think I'm crazy?"
Your lips part, your eyes glassy. "A little," you say honestly. Satoru bows his head in humiliation. "...But... I think... I believe you."
He perks up immediately, big blue eyes blown wide with hope. "You do?"
"For some reason, yeah. Yeah I do," you swallow hard, still processing. "So that woman-"
"Shoko."
"Shoko. She's also a...?"
"A sorcerer. Yeah. We were going to pick up our kids from a mission."
"Your... kids?"
"Students! Our students!" he clarifies.
"...And you have powers...? That you teach the students? At a sorcery school?"
"...Kind of�"
"And you teleport. And have an invisible forcefield."
Satoru tries not to laugh as you wrap your mind around the concept. "I mean... that's kind of what it is. Yeah."
âO-Okay⊠so, what else can sorcerers do?"
"We're not all the same. Everyone has their own technique."
"Technique?"
"Like a power."
"Oh. Then what's yours?"
Satoru smiles warmly. "Let's not worry about all the details right now," he chuckles. "I just wanna worry about you. Okay? Are you okay?"
You nod stiffly. "Yes. Yeah. I'm just... sorry. I'm sorry."
The reality of everything comes crashing down on you, but surprisingly, not what Satoru has just unveiled, but rather what you said to him on the street earlier. The scene you caused. The accusations you threw. The assumptions you made. How out of character you got.
"Oh Jesus," you groaned, bringing a hand to your head. "You really don't know what people have going on in their lives."
"(Y/n)? You sure you're okay?"
The kindest, most concerned blue eyes follow your every move as secure palms hold you, and you deflate. "I'm fine. I'm sorry. I just realized I cussed you out for no reason. I'm so sorry."
Satoru blinks. "You're not... mad about the sorcerer thing?"
"I mean, I'm still fucking confused, but no... I feel awful that I ripped you apart like that in front of your coworker. Oh god, and I snapped at her. Satoru, I'm really sorry. I had no idea."
"(Y/n)
," he calls your name gently. "How could you have known?" You go to answer, but you can think of no response. "I'm the one who kept you in the dark. I'm the one who hid this from you. I'm the one with a secret identity. You have no reason to apologize to me. I deserved it. From where you stand, you couldn't have possibly known."
"But now I do, and I... I mean, I knew you were hiding something, but... I should've paid more attention?"
"To what?" he chuckles. "I hid this from you every day. There's nothing you could have noticed."
"I notice how tired you are sometimes," you say softly. "I notice how quick you are to take care of everything. To pay, to splurge. Like it's your responsibility."
"That is my responsibility."
"But you do it like you're... trying to be seen... or I don't know.... appreciated," you say, and Satoru's smile slowly fades. "But I appreciate you without all that flashy stuff. And now I understand... you must be a really big deal where you come from. You must have a lot of pressure on you."
You have absolutely no idea.
But he doesn't even bother to confirm or deny. For once, he's happy to hear how a human being perceives him. "I don't know, I should've realized how much you have on your plate instead of constantly thinking about how you could make me feel better. I mean yeah, it sucked not hearing from you, but now that I - I know some shit like sorcery exists, the texting thing doesn't really seem like all that big of an issue. And I really am sorry I yelled at you like that. I swear, I'm not always like that. I just really like you, and when I feel like I haven't been heard or seen, I freak out and jump to the worst-"
You feel hands cup your face and draw you upward, and your eyes go wide as those soft lips press to yours passionately. You hum in shock before sinking into the warmth that you desperately longed to feel again. Your hands go to hold his wrists as you reach up on your tip toes, and his lips slowly mold against yours in three, prolonged smacks.
He pulls away, and you bat the cloudiness away from your eyes as you look up into his own. Satoru beams down at you with a love struck grin, cheeks rosy and pupils blown, snowy lashes low over his irises. He ducks back down to kiss your forehead, and your heart thrums.
"I just told you that I'm a sorcerer, and all you can think about is how you made me feel?" he murmurs sweetly. "What did I do to deserve you?"
"I didn't - do anything?" you say slowly.
"You did," he smiles, skin creasing at the corners of his eyes. "I understand why you yelled, (Y/n). I deserved it. And honestly... I kinda liked it."
You can't help the snort you let out. "You what?"
"I liked that you stood up for yourself. That you don't take any crap. You know your worth. And you should. You're perfect."
"You freak," you push at his chest so that he releases you. His hands fall to his sides, yet his love dazed expression remains as he looks at you. "You're insane."
"I know," he agrees happily. "I really like you."
You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, fighting your smile. "I really like you too," you admit. "But you're a fucking weirdo. Teleporting and shit. What the fuck is that?"
"I know," he says again. "You don't even know the half of it, sweetheart. It gets a lot weirder."
You scrunch your face. "Do I wanna know?"
He shrugs. "Do you? I got all the time in the world."
"I thought you were busy. Don't you have to go to work?"
"Mmmmm, I took off."
"You can do that?"
"Not really. But I'm the big shot around there, so they can't really do shit about it." You look at him skeptically and he grins. "Enoughhh, today's about you, and repairing the damage I've done. So ask me all the questions you want. I'm here. I promise."
You pucker your lips in thought. "No more shitty texting?"
"No more shitty texting. For real real this time."
You turn and gaze at your ajar front door. "Alright. Come inside. I've got two hours before my shift."
You can hardly get your sentence out before he's scooping you up bridal style into his arms and marching you through the threshold of your front door. You squeal, gripping onto his shoulders tight. He kicks the door closed behind you and looks down at you with a devious, heavy haze in his eyes.
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine
-Art in the banner from nek0zuu_ on X-
Pairings- Former Nerd! Gojo and F! reader
Summary - Satoru Gojo was the biggest nerd EVER in high school with you, next door neighbors, study buddies, you were the best friends in the world. Never having the courage to ask you -the 'popular girl' out- you never knew he felt for you. He ended up leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- getting famous with a modeling career, and lost touch with everyone from his old life. While you're working the family pub to help out your parents, years later, he finally comes back to visit, just to have you making his drink. Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin. You feel he's so accomplished now, and you're just a small town girl, but little do you know, you've never left his mind.
CW- Will be explicit and smutty (it's me!?) based on the 2005 Rom com Just Friends - part of my amazinggg moot @indiewritesxoxo's Friday night flicks! đ Nerdjo turned famous and cocky, but he's still just a Nerdjo deep down hehe- he'll have a whole retainer and he'll dance to boys to men a la the movieee
WC- 57k- ongoing
playlist:
Extras- Sukuna's POV here
Kofi link (if you feel generous & wanna buy me a âïž
so i know its been like... 9 months lmao, but I am finally gonna finish this damn story đ„ș they need their end so it'll be out this week! - i am anything if not a completionist đ€
â ongoing case files, tooth-rotting exclusives, and other crimes against literary sanity. updates are irregular, but the delusion is consistent. read tags and descriptions on your own risk.
ౚৠFRONT PAGE EXCLUSIVES .á
â red string of fate collection
ౚৠHIGH-PROFILE CASES: LONG FICS .á
â free throws and figure drawings , told the nerd to film it and he exported inside me instead! , diet pepsi , a treatise on inconvenient attraction , the curious case of satoru gojo , in case of academic emergency, kiss me
ౚৠONGOING INVESTIGATIONS: SERIES .á
â a guide to ditching the worldâs most persistent nerd! , love comes in small sizes , love thy neighbor , kill switch , wanted: dead or wed
ౚৠLOCAL DISRUPTIONS: SHORT FICS .á
â roses bloom the prettiest in ruin , no one else needed to notice , allâs fair , love & war , wherever you want it, baby, iâm taking you there! , bet on blue , ivy , panopticon , illicit affairs , warmth waits here , skip me again and iâll glitch your heart , shy girls suck the best , infinite void? more like infinite errands! , even softer than expected , co-parenting? no. co-pettying. , bite your tongue, i like it better bloody , call it first aid , you ever draw someone so hard you ride them? , your goddess loves you this much , something warm and golden , this love survives bad haircuts
â satoru x oblivious reader , making satoru blush , satoruâs pint sized copy fails the quiz satoru helped him review , satoru being a tease , yandere satoru w/ servant reader , isekaiâd game protag nerdjo x not so npc saintess reader , lost princess reader x etiquette teacher satoru , satoru âhelpingâ you take a pregnancy test , satoru vs your period mood swings , temporarily genderbent satoru showing up on ur first date , satoru bakes cookies , magical girl reader x satoru , delulu & yearning nerdjo x shy reader , kid satoru and shikigami reader <- pt. 2 , pt. 3 , basketball player satoru drawing his artist girlfriend reader , childhood friend satoru carrying you so your socks donât get wet , satoru accidentally tasting your mascara while comforting you , satoru and the five second rule , ragebaiting nerdjo , satoru taking too big of a bite on your cheeseburger , married off to the mysterious gojo heir , cowboy satoru saving you from bandits (youâre one of them) , brushing time with satoru , luxury shopping with satoru , male manipulator satoru and girl failure reader <- pt 2 , satoru and correction kink , soldier satoru and nurse reader , knight satoru and princess reader , photography club pres satoru and journalism club pres reader <- pt 2 , vampire satoru and gf reader <- him eating u out on ur period , love is war: divorce edition , i love you more competition with first year satoru , satoru overdoing it in his first date with you , so-called village guardian satoru and vampire reader , testing a sex toy while satoru watches, corruption + ntr w/ tutor satoru , a whisker away au
Synopsis: Youâve always been the ideal student, balancing good grades and a social life. You are now starting your freshman year of university. After ending a horrible relationship in high school, you swore off boys, devoting your energy to school. But what happens when a frat boy becomes completely obsessed with you?
Tags // Warnings: Eventual Smut, Frat au, fraternities, sororities, strangers â friends â fwb â lovers (more will be added as the story develops).
wish I could see that it feels much better when I'm with you
pairing: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader (university au)
summary: sukuna has a notorious reputation on campus of being terrifying, but it's hard to be too scared of the guy when he shows up to your familyâs failing bakery every day to buy strawberry shortbread.
when your life feels like its falling apart you discover just how sweet he can be.
content: 18+ mdni, eventual smut, university au, FLUFF, angst, humor, slow burn, idiots in love, miscommunication, parental illness/death, grief, money issues, stress and overwork, harassment, introverted reader, both reader and sukuna are kinda insecure in their own way, reader's life is falling apart but sukuna is there to make things better
episode 1: going through it
episode 2: under your spell
episode 3: anyone out there?
episode 4: expectations are too high
episode 5: crush
episode 6: I just don't know right now
episode 7: late nights
episode 8: so come a little closer
episode 9: beating like a hammer
episode 10: stop the world I wanna get off (with you)
   đđ°đđłđł đșđźđżđžđ - 02
đœđźđ¶đżđ¶đ»đŽ! mechanic!jason todd x reader
đđđșđșđźđżđ! jason finally fixes your car, but he has to make sure it still runs properly as well. for your safety, right?
đđźđŽđ! afab!reader, tension, inaccurate car information, time skips
đđŒđżđ± đ°đŒđđ»đ! 4871
đđČđżđ¶đČđ đșđźđđđČđżđčđ¶đđ! find it here <3
the familiar musk of jason's shop filled your nostrils once again.
your thighs were frozen to the thin metal chair that remained beside jason's work station. the rusted legs creaked under your weight, threatening to break with each movement.
you tried not to let your mind wander this time.
the events of the prior night plagued you through visions. his arms â the way they flexed with each turn of the wheel, the way his body leaned closer to yours as he retrieved his sweater from the back seat.Â
his words stuck to your back for the rest of the night. "see you tomorrow, pretty girl,"Â landing and ironing itself to your skin.Â
you recalled his scent â vanilla musk, mint, and the faintest hint of the cigarette he had smoked earlier that clung to the tips of his hair.
in front of you was a familiar scene. dark wash jeans, and a black t shirt. brown boots. body laid supine on a trolly underneath your car.
"how long do you think this will take?" you asked, cringing slightly from the chair's loud screeching.
"tryna get away from me that quickly, darling?" he called back. you hear the smirk in his words. smug bastard. "i'm just getting started down here."Â
"tim said that you said it would be an easy fix,"Â
jason's only response was a hum of confirmation. he hadn't lied â it was an easy fix. but he couldn't bring himself to let you leave just yet. he couldn't. he was selfish, he knew, he wanted to stay in your presence just a little longer. because you⊠you were off limits. you would go back to your life â school, work, tim, your friends. jason didn't believe that he needed to fit into your life alongside those factors.
"that it wouldn't take long?" you continued after his lack of response.Â
"that was before i saw what a mess your car is,"Â
"shark is reliable," your voice rang back defensively. your car was beautiful. a 99 chevy cavalier. perfect for you.Â
"you named your car 'shark'?" his lip curled above his top teeth. of course you had named your car. you had seemed like the type who would. the name was cute, jason would admit, you were cute, but denying it was easier than admitting it.Â
"yeah," your tone was flat, defensive. "it's grey, and strong â therefore, a shark."
"right," jason agreed for your sake. the name of your car didn't change his life in any way. he rolled himself out from the undercarriage and stood in front of the hood of your car.Â
he took a moment to inspect and assess. seeing him in his element was mesmerizing. his calculating gaze showed care and experience. his eyes roved over each part, and how they worked together.Â
"come here," his voice called out, head nodding invitingly. your feet were moving over to him before your brain even realized it was happening. he was a magnet, one that you didn't think you could stay away from even if you wanted to.Â
"see this?" he murmured as he stepped to the side to make room for you. you nodded. his finger remained pointing to a part on top of your engine. "that big thing is your engine. and this is your valve. it's leaking and is what is causing problems."Â
you nodded again in understanding, leaning your upper half closer to inspect it. jason tried to keep his gaze on your car as well, and keep from wandering down your back. but fuck you were so close to him. and the smell of your perfume was flooding his senses. his fingers hovered on the small of your back, fingers brushing the hem of your tank top â black this time, and just as tantalizing.Â
"the good thing is, your engine is fine," he explained. his words were so close to your ear, and you were aware of his proximity to your back. the way his "want me to show you how to fix it?"Â
your head tilted back over your shoulder to regard him. his face was so close to yours, close enough to cause your breath to hitch in your throat.Â
"yeah? so i can take your job?" the corner of your lip twitched upward.Â
jason's expression softened fractionally, his eyes roving over your face. "you think that's how this works?"
words died in your throat. his gaze on you almost stopped your heart. your lips parted to respond, a witty response ready and shaped under your tongue. yet all you could do was press your lips back together and turn back towards the car. jason was entranced by the curve of your mouth. his own mind was short-circuting, just the same as yours. at the sight of your lips pressed together, he took that as a sign to step up closer behind you.Â
"okay," he murmured, his arm circling you. his biceps caged you in, pressing against your shoulders. "we are gonna take this rag and wrap it around here,"
his voice was breathy against your ear, but still low and controlled. his weight against your back was grounding, yet completely debilitating. every ridge, every crevice of his chest pressed into you.Â
"and then, we're gonna pull," a loud pop followed the end of jason's sentence. your eyes remained on your engine under the valve, scanning, questioning.Â
jason's own gaze remained fixed on your face. your fascination, your concern, was evident on your features. your brows dipped slightly as your mind worked around the inner workings of your car â he was speechless by the sight.Â
clearing his throat, he let go of your hand and removed himself from behind you. "and, she's all fixed up,"
you immediately felt the loss. a steady chill crawled up the back of your spine. his chest had been so warm and solid against your back. a small part of you was upset at how easily jason fixed your car. you almost wished there was more wrong in order to spend more time caged in by his arms.Â
"thanks for fixing her up," you turned to face the front of him, gaze lifted to meet his. his height was towering, no matter the size of your own body. he commanded space. took it up without meaning to â without even wanting to. he was inescapable, a large mass that captured your attention. "how much do i owe you?"Â
"don't worry about it," his response was short. dismissive. nonchalant. his arm reached by your head, unhooking the hood of your car and letting it shut.
"jason." you stated, disbelieving. "i'm serious."Â
"so am i,"Â
"just tell me how much i owe you,"
"nothing. was a favour for your boyfriend," he shrugged, his expression remaining unchanging.Â
"he's not my boyfriend," your face contorting into a look of disgust. tim was the last person you would choose to date. especially when there was someone else on your mind, someone who happened to be standing in front of you.Â
"right, well, still a favour for the piece of shit,"Â
you gave him a look at his choice of words to describe tim. there were a few beats of silence between the two of you.Â
"shop policy is that we need to test run the car," he gave you a sidelong glance, his hand brushing over the hood. "make sure it's running properly."Â
"you do this with all your clients?" you raised a brow, unconvinced.Â
"can't let you go unless i know you're safe in that thing," he ignored your question, "in good conscious."Â
"do i get to drive?" you raised a brow.Â
"in your dreams," his voice muttered. he had already opened the passenger door of your car, hand gestured for you to get in.Â
"it's my car and i don't even get to drive," you snarked, slipping by him, your back brushed against his chest again briefly.Â
"as long as you're with me, you don't have to touch the wheel again," jason's voice was barely above a breath, words uttered as he shut the door after you got settled.Â
he hoped you hadn't heard.Â
he hadn't even known why he said those words. he didn't mean them. he didn't know you, and he didn't want to know you.Â
you were tim's friend, not his.Â
ïčâïčâïčâïč
the front of your hood burnt the bottom of your thighs.Â
how you ended up in the meadow on the outskirts of town was beyond you.Â
jason was perched beside you, arms folded as he gazed at the over grown grass.
"this place is quite far from town," your voice drifted into jason's ears alongside the gentle breeze that swayed the grass.Â
he nodded, his eyes fixed ahead.Â
you left it at that, following his gaze ahead. there was peace in the view. an endless expanse of green that contrasted with the cut of the sharp blue sky.Â
"i come here quite often," he responded after a while of silence, turning to gaze up at you.Â
"peaceful," you added. you didn't feel the need to add more, he understand what you were implying with your words. "do you ever go sit in the field?"
he shook his head, "i like to watch from here,"
you pushed yourself off the hood of your car, feet landing on the road below. rocks crunched under the sole of your shoes, dust settling into the ankles of your jeans. "well then, let's go,"
"no," he shook his head, shifting against the hood. he looked down, knowing that if he continued to look into your eyes he would give in. jason felt himself wanting to give him, wanting to do whatever you wanted. and it was terrifying him.Â
you rolled your eyes at his response, "come on, jason,"
he fixed his gaze back ahead, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. it wasn't that he didn't want to â god, he fucking wanted to. he couldn't allow himself to. you were dangerous.Â
you took his silence and nodded slowly. "well, i'm gonna go and enjoy myself. and you can stay here, loser,"Â
you smirked at him, nudging his arm before you turned around and took off running into the grassy area.
the sun cut down through the wind, warming your shoulders. you weren't gonna let jason's reluctance stop you.Â
jason watched you run, watched the way your arms swung by your side. his body subconsciously pushed off the hood, moving to follow you into the sun. you felt like his sun, and he couldn't help but want to orbit around you.Â
he let out a soft huff, his nails biting into his palm for a moment.Â
"fuck," he muttered under his breath before he took off running after you. it felt good, but he wouldn't admit that out loud to you. it was scary how natural this feeling was for him, how easily this path to you opened for him to chase.Â
it was scary how fast jason caught up to you. the head start you had was diminished in seconds. he kept a steady pace just behind you, not yet matching your pace, just watching.Â
the smile you flashed over your shoulder was blinding. jason almost tripped over his feet at the sight. your teeth beaming with genuine joy, your tongue peeking out from behind the top row. and then your laugh. a breathless laugh from the belly that punched into his chest.Â
"tag!" your hand reached back to swat at his arm, while you stumbled over the grass in the process. you righted yourself and cut immediately to the left.
you took off sprinting again in the opposite direction. the melody of your laugh continued to fill jason's void, and he followed without a second thought.Â
he chased after you, breath barely puffing out of his chest. he wanted to prolong this moment for as long as he possibly could, to preserve this memory in locket and wear it around his chest â he didn't even know if he would see you again after this.Â
all he was supposed to do was to fix your car, as per tim's instructions. that was all. it was only a favour. nothing more. yet, it felt like everything to jason in this moment. how quickly his life had been changed within a couple of days was something he was unable to comprehend.Â
his arm circled around your waist, lifting you up into his chest and spinning you around to carry your momentum. you gasped through a shriek, legs kicking into the air at how suddenly you were airborne.Â
"got you," his chest rumbled against your back. his other hand latched onto your thigh to steady you back on the ground.Â
"jason, oh myâ" your hands gripped his arm as the world suddenly spun off it's axis. your foot caught in a hole, your body stumbled forward. the ground was approaching faster than you could process, than you could react. your eyes shut as you braced yourself for impact. you could practically feel your body hitting the ground, the grass catching between your fingertips and sticking under your nails. you were already cringing at the thought. that was gonna be a pain to get out later.
only, you didn't hit the ground â not really. your bottom did, but not as hard as you had anticipated. the back of your head was cushioned, along with your upper back. you realized it was jason by the way his knees thudded against the dirt, bracketing your thighs. jason was practically straddling you. his hand crunched beneath your head before the arm around your upper back pulled you up, hovering your body a few inches off the ground.Â
your eyes were wide and wild, gazing up at him.Â
he was so close.Â
again.
you had seen him up close before, the two of you had shared a few moments in a proximity that was closer than you should have been, but none of those times compared to this.Â
he was right there.Â
small freckles dusting his nose, blue irises that carried hints of green, and complete and utter perfection.Â
and for, jason, god he was speechless. it was instinct on his end, really. his hands moved on their own â thrumming with the desire to protect you. he would let his arms take the brunt of any pain if it had meant you would never see harm.Â
was he that pathetic? that you had managed to have him under your thumb within such a short time of knowing you? clearly, he was.Â
your fingers instinctively curled into the collar of his shirt, keeping him close. your chest was expanding with breaths that never quite sat right in your lungs, leaving you more dizzy than anything else â or was that because you were close enough to smell jason's natural musk?Â
jason lowered your body slowly â hand slipping from under your head, arm uncurling from your upper back and letting you rest on the grass. the green blades framed your head like a halo. angel. you were his angel.Â
he followed you down, unable to put space between your bodies. his hands rested beside your head, further bracketing you beneath him. his eyes roved over your form in concern.Â
"you okay?" he murmured softly. he checked for injuries, anything, he angled his head to gaze at your ankle â the reason why you had fallen in the first place. it looked fine to him, thankfully.Â
you nodded slowly, lips parted in slight shock, eyes still transfixed on his face.Â
"need you to say it. are you in any pain?" he repeated, gazing back into your eyes. "does your ankle hurt at all?"Â
"i'm okay," you swallowed thickly. "my ankle is fine."Â
he accepted your answer, visibly relaxing. "good."
"sorry," you blurted out, anxious from how close he was. from how you could count each and every single one of his eyelashes as they were attached to his eyelid.
"for what?" his voice was barely above a whisper. the breeze flowed through the grass, kissing over your cheeks and sending hair fluttering across your forehead. he brushed the strand back, memorizing the texture under his thumb. he knew why you were apologizing, and it was unnecessary. though, he recognized your words are more instinct than a genuine apology.Â
your brain blanked, subconsciously pulling him closer by the collar. closer. closer. it wasn't close enough.Â
jason followed willingly. it would agonize him to deny you right now, to deny himself.Â
his head dipped down, the tip of his nose brushed against yours. his shaky breath fanned across your lips.Â
"angelâŠ" he whispered, eyes squeezing tightly. it was as if the darkness behind his lids could stop him, stop his desire for you. stop the fire that was spreading up his neck â one that could only be extinguished with the press of your lips.Â
he wanted it so badly, wanted you. he knew you would taste good under his tongue, that you would mold perfectly with him. his fingers dug into the ground, denting the dirt with the force of his restraint.Â
and when your hands slid up from his collar and onto his neck, jason knew he was done for. he was gone. completely at your mercy just by the touch of your fingertips. his neck burned at the spots where your skin met his. he was ready to carve his heart out of his chest and hand it to you with his own hands. his chest plating armour, his protection, his walls that had shielded the parts of himself that he refused to show the world melted instantly with a flash of your smile.Â
"jayâŠ" your voice was barely above the wind in his ears, but it cut through nonetheless, grounded him back to the moment where your chin was tilting up towards his mouth.Â
oh god, no
he cleared his throat and slid onto his back beside you. the clouds, bright and blinding against the warm blue, were the most interesting thing jason could look at right now. though his eyes were desperate to settle back onto you.Â
he wouldn't give in. not yet at least. maybe not ever. you would never be his.Â
a spiked ball made it's way down your throat, forcing, shoving, tearing down any words that were about to leave your mouth. the pressure between the two of you was bordering on unbearable.Â
you were so close to kissing him. so close. his distance was necessary. you never should have gotten that close to jason â close enough that you had felt the cool air from his nose brush your cheeks. though, feeling him pull away stabbed your heart deeper than you cared to admit.Â
"hey, jason?"
he hummed in confirmation
"what were you doing under my car for so long?"Â
"what do you mean?"
"well, it was the valve that was leaking right? you said that's under the hood. why were you under my car for as long as you were? you were also inside, like under the steering wheel. what was that?"Â
jason remained silent. he didn't have a good enough excuse that didn't make him sound like a fucking idiot. after finding the initial cause of your car problems, he found another, and then another. and then it turned into him fixing whatever he could with the equipment that he had on hand â anything to keep you in the shop a little longer. just a little longer.Â
"you know, just stopping some fluid leaks, making sure nothing was rusting. the oil pan gasket is down there, and your transmission," he kept his eyes trained on the sky, hand resting under his head. the same hand that was under yours. the same one that was just gliding through your hair and oh how he wanted to grab onto the strands andâ "oh, and your exhaust. that needed to be touched up. i actually put some paste on there so it should be good for now, but you'll need to come in again soon for me to actually fix itâ"Â
"jason,"Â
"yeah," his own rambling had caught him off guard, but the way his heart was practically beating out of his chest was getting increasingly harder to ignore. his heart was still beating wildly out of his chest from almost kissing you.
"what the hell does any of that even mean?"Â
"basically, you had more work that needed to be done than just the valve,"Â
"what?" you sat up, your lips jutting out in a exasperated pout. "why didn't you tell me? you have to let me pay you."Â
"like i said earlier, i owed tim," he responded, propping himself on his elbow to face you. the sun floated just above your head, bathing you in its ethereal glow. the rays caught on your hair, glittering the wild strands that were mussed from the grass.Â
"yeah but not for all of that,"Â
"well. if you wanna repay me so bad, then you can,"Â
you nodded in relief. "okay. how much do i owe you then?"Â
"i want youâ"Â
the shrill of your phone ringing in your back pocket cut jason off abruptly. in a way, he may have been relieved that he never got to finish his sentence. you. i want you. he wouldn't have been able to take them back, no matter how much he may have meant it.
too much. way too soon.Â
"hey," you pressed your phone to your ear. your fingers absentmindedly picked at the strands of grass beneath your feet.Â
"what time are you coming over?" tim's voice rang through the speaker. loud. jason cringed at the sound.Â
"huh?" you shifted, sitting up a little straighter. right. tim and you had plans tonight. dinner tonight at the manor, upon bruce's insistence. on days that you and tim had planned to hang out, you usually ended up in the manor. it was more comfortable for you guys rather than your shitty apartment.Â
"b's asking, alfred's already started on dinner," tim says, you cam practically see him shaking his head. "so, what time should i tell him? also, why is your location off. i tried to check if you were at home and it says 'location not found'"Â
"oh uh, i don't know. i'm on a walk right now, i'll be there in 'bout an hour?" you were distracted. jason was just laying there still, beside you, pretending not to listen but you know he was. the twitch of his nose when tim had mentioned bruce had given him away.Â
"''kay, perfect, see you, and fix your location," tim waited for your own farewell before hanging up the phone. you let your phone drop into your lap, falling back into the electrically charged quiet that seemed to continuously engulf yourself and jason.Â
"tim?" jason mumbled.Â
you nodded, a thick glob of saliva catching in our throat. "dinner at the manor tonight."Â
right. jason knew that. dinner at the manor tonight, as bruce had said in the family group chat.Â
he knew he had to drive you back, to let you go. you car was fixed now. it was over. your car was fixed, and you were gonna go back to your life now. the dream bubble, the rose coloured world that jason had been fantasizing with you was now grey.Â
but he wouldn't complain. he would let you go. and maybe, he would get to see you again.Â
ïčâïčâïčâïč
the manor had been bustling upon your arrival. you still felt like you were in a daze from your earlier encounters with jason.Â
he was⊠different. not what you had expected.Â
your first impression of him might have been skewered by tim, and the front that jason put up. the glares, the stone mask that he wore â you saw the softness that lay beneath it all.Â
you were currently at the dinner table â seated beside tim â though you could still feel the grass tickling your ankles and jason's steady weight on your chest. you had been so close to kissing him, barely a centimetre between you.Â
"so your car is alright then?" bruce's voice brought you back from your dream.Â
"hm? oh! yeah, it's all good," your shoulders squared, spine snapping straight. the smile that plastered across your face felt gooey. "jasonâ"
"âlittlewing?" dick's voice rang out in shock, his gaze fixed above your head. a lull settled over the room as the rest of the party's attention followed dick's. you slowly turned your head, your breath catching at the sight.Â
speak of the devil.Â
jason. he had stood in the entryway of the dining hall â the same navy blue jeans, leather jacket stretched taut over his strong form.Â
everyone's gaze were on him, but his were on you.Â
"jason! what a pleasure," bruce smiled, standing in greeting.Â
"why are you here?" tim blurted out.Â
"for dinner?" jason deadpanned.
"yeah, but why?"Â
"i'm part of the family, aren't i? do i need a reason to show up for family dinner?"Â
"how did you know this was happening,"
you elbowed tim hard enough that he flinched. his fork clanged against his plate at the force of his knee hitting the table.
"i'm in the groupchat, dumbass," jason's eyes narrowed at tim, a scowl forming across his mouth.Â
"âyes! you are, no you don't need a reason, and we are so happy you're here," bruce's voice cut in quickly, breaking the squabble. his tone directed at tim. he stood up as well to welcome jason into the room.Â
"come sit, littlewing, alfred already set up a seat for you," dick's words barely registered in your mind. jason had looked different, smaller, younger. dick's hand patted the space next to him, across from you, the only empty seat. until now, that seat had always remained empty â set up with a plate, cutlery, and a glass â but empty. now you knew why.Â
he took his spot, sliding comfortably into the seat and letting dick clap his shoulder in friendly greeting. jasons eyes shifted from dick, to bruce, and then to you. darker, pupils dilated, head tilted slightly to the side as he took in your appearance again. outfit less casual, your hair done in a way that he could tell you put effort into â though he thought your hair would have looked nice regardless how you wore it.Â
jason's gaze was hungry. devouring, though it wasn't because of the food that was being served in front of him, but because of you.Â
dinner continued without a hitch. the dymanic didn't change when jason arrived, it molded around him â like he had always been there.Â
the conversion flowed between everyone, changing constantly from someone's interjection. the only thing that didn't change was jason's focus on you. when he spoke, when he wasn't speaking. it wasn't the whole time, but it was enough for you to notice it. to feel it burning into your face from where he sat directly in front of you.Â
eventually, after the second course of dessert, you excused yourself to the washroom.Â
a break was needed.Â
while you had developed close relationships with all of tim's family members, they still managed to overwhelm you very easily.Â
the washroom was a moment of repreive in the chaos that was confined within the walls of the manor. you could still hear the arguments, the debates, the loud voices that knew how to speak above one another.Â
you took your time on the way back, slow measured steps that followed the dark lines of the mahogany flooring. you didn't hear the footsteps behind you, didn't sense the presence that lingered too closely behind you for just a second too long before wrapping an arm around you.Â
a large hand covered your mouth, the other pulling your body into the opened doorway beside you. once your back was against the wall, you realized.Â
jason.Â
he was close again. body pressed up against yours intentionally. he was warm in a way that was devastating â a warmth that you so desperately wanted to sink into, but you knew you couldn't.Â
"what are youâ" your voice muffled against his hand, palm sliding against your cheek and cradling your head.Â
"i should have kissed you earlier," his words cut you off, hanging in the space between your mouths. his gaze was fixed on your lips, centimetres away from yours. "i should have. i need to. been thinking about it since i met you, angel, fuck."Â
he was practically pleading. his whispered words were shaking between his lips.Â
please. please, let me kiss you.Â
"we⊠jason, we can't," your voice was just as soft, hands exploring up his arms and onto his shoulders. broad and thick under your palms. the desperation was burning the room, a fever beginning to heat up your spine.Â
"we⊠yeah," his forehead softly hit yours, eyes shutting tightly. his nostrils flared with restraint. his other hand tightened it's grip on your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer to him.Â
"they're gonna be looking for us, we need toâ"
"fuck. i can't. i'm sorry," jason murmured, his snapping open to gaze at you one last time, there was a hint of apology swimming in his eyes, deep and longing beneath the surface.Â
in another life, i would make you stay a gojo satoru (fix it) series
pairing âžș reincarnated!gojo x reincarnated!reader
summary âžș you are a sorcerer, married to your husband who bears the burden of being the strongest. firsthand, you watch the love of your life fall apart, the world burdening him until, finally, he dies at the hand of sukuna. as you watch him through the broadcast, you blankly volunteer to be nextand you die, praying to whatever merciful god out there that, in another life, you and satoru get the happy ending you both deservedâ
until you wake up from your dream, gasping.why the hell was your dream so vivid? you were some sort of magician? with a smoking HOT husband? and why the fuck does the guy that's ten minutes late to the first day of lectures look EXACTLY like him?
warnings âžșeventual smut fluff and angst (the holy trinity), hurt/comfort, reincarnation fic, basically you and gojo have a miserable life in canon and get reincarnated into a modern au where i fix everything and give you the romcom you deserve, canon typical violence, jjk manga spoilers, mentions of blood and injury, major character death, fem reader implied
masterlist
01 âžș What a Weird Fucking Dream
the first day of your semester is precendeted by a very odd dream involving sorcerers and a hot ass husband. which you then see in lecture (3.7k)
02 âžș Note to Self: Don't Call Random Guys your Husband (soon!)
All Gojo had to do was Apologize but he was too blind to see that he was losing something so dear.
The silence in the apartment didnât just sit there; it heavy-pressed itself against your chest, thick with the scent of his cologne and the sharp, metallic tang of a dying argument.
Satoru had left three hours ago. The front door hadnât slammedâno, he was too untouchable for something as mundane as a slammed door. It had just clicked shut, a final, mocking punctuation mark to a fight that had stripped you raw.
You looked at your hands. They were shaking.
How had it gotten this bad? Satoru Gojo was the strongest. He reminded you, the world, and himself of that fact every single day. But somewhere along the line, that strength had curdled into a suffocating arrogance. He was so wrapped up in his own godhood, so utterly obsessed with the narrative of his own infallibility, that he had forgotten how to be human with you. He couldn't admit he was wrong. He couldn't clear up the misunderstandings that had been piling up like kindling between you for months. When you asked for explanationsâwhere he had been, why he had left you behind, who he was protecting when he was supposed to be protecting youâhe merely smiled that blinding, infuriating smile and told you not to worry.
âIâve got it covered, babe. I always do.â
But he didnât have you covered. He was letting you drown in the quiet spaces he left behind, assuming your love for him was an infinite resource, as boundless as his cursed energy.
You were drained. You were so deeply, agonizingly tired. And the worst partâthe part that made you want to scream until your throat bledâwas that you still loved him. You loved the boy beneath the blindfold, the one who used to let his guard down when the world wasnât watching. But you couldnât survive on crumbs of a ghost anymore.
With a numb, mechanical precision, you pulled your suitcase from the top of the closet.
Every item you packed felt like a betrayal. You took what you could fit: a few sweaters, your journals, the mundane pieces of a life you had tried to build in the shadow of a god. You left behind the shirt of his you used to sleep in. You left the jewelry heâd bought you to apologize for missed anniversariesâexpensive trinkets meant to buy your silence.
When the suitcase was zipped, you sat at the small vanity table. Your reflection looked hollow, dark circles bruising the skin beneath your eyes. With a trembling hand, you grabbed a piece of scrap paper and a pen.
Satoru, you wrote, your breath hitching. I canât keep waiting for a man who is already gone. You never cleared the air. You just let me choke on it. I love you, but I am empty. Don't look for me.
You didn't sign it with "Love." He already knew that part, and it hadn't been enough to make him stay. You set the note on the dresser, placing his silver house key directly on top of it so it wouldn't blow away.
You were going to catch the first train out at dawn.
The night dragged on like a slow execution. You lay on the edge of the mattress, the sheets freezing against your skin. Every creak of the floorboards made your heart leap into your throat, thinking, Heâs back. Heâs coming up the stairs. Heâs going to open the door, pull me into his arms, and finally, finally say heâs sorry.
But the door never opened.
When the weak, grey light of morning began to filter through the blinds, the space beside you remained pristine and untouched. He hadn't come home. He hadn't even bothered to check if you were still there.
A choked, pathetic sob escaped your lips as you finally stood up. You hadn't slept a wink. Your mind was a vicious loop of what-ifs. If you left now, was it truly over? Could you really walk away from Satoru Gojo? Did anyone ever truly walk away from him, or did he just let them drift out of his orbit when he was bored?
Your feet carried you to the station through sheer muscle memory. The morning air was biting, stinging your raw eyes.
Now, you stood on the platform. The translation phone was clutched so tightly in your hand that your knuckles were white. Your suitcase sat in front of you, a stark barrier between your past and your unknown future.
Huuuuuuuuuuh.
The distant whistle of the train blew, a mournful, screeching sound that echoed through the concrete station. The tracks began to vibrate.
Within minutes, the massive metal beast pulled up, hissing steam and screeching to a halt. The doors slid open. You watched, frozen, as a handful of sleepy commuters stepped off, their faces blank, rushing toward their mundane lives. Other people boarded, shuffling past you.
Your phone screen stared back at you. Your thumb hovered over his contact name. Just Satoru. Not a nickname anymore. Just him.
Just call me, you prayed to whatever cruel gods were listening. Answer the phone. Say anything. Just give me a reason to kick this suitcase into the tracks and run back to you.
You pressed call.
You held the phone to your ear, counting the seconds.
âThe mobile customer you are trying to reach is currently unavailable or outside the coverage area. Please leave a message after theââ
A hollow laugh escaped your lips, turning into a shaky breath that fogged in the cold air. Unavailable. Of course he was. He was the strongest; he didnât need to be available to anyone.
The train conductor called out for final boarding. The whistle blew againâa sharp, deafening blast.
You lowered your phone. You didn't leave a voicemail. There was nothing left to say that hadn't already been ignored. Grabbing the handle of your suitcase, you lifted your chin, blinked away the tears that threatened to blind you, and stepped onto the train.
As the doors slid shut with a heavy, definitive thud, you felt a piece of your soul snap cleanly in half.
Across town, high above the Jujutsu High campus, the wind was biting and clean.
Satoru sat on the edge of the roof of one of the traditional shrines, his long legs dangling over the eaves. His blindfold was off, stuffed carelessly into his pocket. His striking blue eyes, usually vibrant and electric, were dull, staring unseeingly at the treeline as the sun slowly crept over the horizon.
His phone lay a few feet away from him on the wooden tiles. Dead.
He knew exactly where his charger was. It was plugged into the outlet right next to your side of the bed, where he usually left it because he was too lazy to buy a second one. It had died somewhere around two in the morning, but he hadn't cared enough to go inside and plug it in.
He was angry. Mostly at you, but beneath that thin layer of childish spite, he was furious with himself.
The argument from last night replayed in his head, each word cutting deeper now that the heat of the moment had passed. He remembered the look on your faceânot the anger he was used to dealing with from superiors or enemies, but the absolute, crushing exhaustion. He had seen the way your shoulders slouched, the way your voice cracked when you told him that his silence was killing you.
He should have cleared up the misunderstanding. He knew he should have. It would have taken two sentences to explain that the secrecy wasn't because he didn't trust you, but because the higher-ups were watching his every move, searching for a weaknessâsearching for you.
But Satoru didn't do explanations. He didn't do vulnerability. To admit that he was trying to protect you from his world was to admit that he couldn't completely control the world. It was an admission of a limitation, and Satoru Gojo did not have limitations. So instead, he had mocked your anxiety. He had chosen to be smug. He had chosen his pride over your peace of mind.
âYouâre overreacting,â he had said, a casual wave of his hand dismissing the tears in your eyes. âIf I wanted to leave you, Iâd just do it. Stop suffocating me.â
The memory made his stomach twist into an uncomfortable, burning knot. It was a ugly thing to say. He knew it the second it left his mouth, but his stubbornness had anchored him in place, refusing to let him apologize. So, he had walked out, thinking a few hours of breathing room would make you realize how ridiculous you were being.
He sighed, leaning back against the sloping roof, resting his weight on his elbows. He felt like this was far past a simple conversation now. Heâd have to bring home those expensive sweets you liked from the bakery near the station. Heâd have to endure your quiet treatment for a day or two, let you vent, and maybeâjust maybeâheâd mutter a half-hearted "sorry" while pulling you into his lap. Youâd forgive him. You always did. Your love for him was a constant, fixed point in his chaotic universe.
The wind blew softly, ruffling his snow-white hair, carrying the scent of pine and early morning dew.
And then, through the quiet breeze, a sound drifted up from the valley.
The train whistle.
It echoed once, a sharp, distant cry that cut through the morning stillness.
Satoru didn't move, his eyes tracking a bird flying across the sky.
Then, it blew a second time. A longer, more agonizing note that sounded almost like a weep.
"Jeez... you can really hear those things from far away, huh..." he mumbled to himself, his voice raspy from the cold and the lack of sleep.
He stretched his long limbs, a lazy yawn escaping him as he finally pushed himself up into a standing position. He rubbed the back of his neck, squinting at the rising sun. It was still incredibly early.
A small, confident smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he thought of you. By now, you were probably still tucked under the heavy blankets of your shared bed, the anger from last night fading into grogginess. Youâd be waiting for him. Youâd complain about his cold hands when he crawled back into bed, but youâd still let him hold you. You always waited.
"Time to go home," he murmured, picking up his dead phone and sliding it into his pocket.
He adjusted his blindfold back over his eyes, blocking out the world, completely blind to the fact that his world had just boarded a train and left him behind.
The train ride was agonizingly smooth. The rhythmic clack-clack, clack-clack of the wheels against the tracks felt like a countdown, distancing you further and further from the life you were tearing away from.
You pressed your forehead against the cool glass of the window. The city was fading, replaced by sprawling fields of green and grey.
Your phone buzzed in your hand. Your heart stopped. You tore your eyes open, looking at the screen with a desperate, pathetic hope that made you despise yourself.
It wasn't him. It was a calendar notification. Satoruâs day off.
You closed your eyes, a single, heavy tear finally escaping and tracing a wet path down your cheek. He wouldn't even know you were gone yet. He was probably just getting back to the apartment, walking up the stairs with that casual, arrogant stride, expecting to find you exactly where he left you.
You wondered what his face would look like when he saw the note. Would he be angry? Would he break something? Or worse... would he just shrug, crumble the paper, and throw it in the trash, relieved that the burden of your expectations was finally gone?
The uncertainty was a physical pain, a dull ache in your chest that made it hard to breathe. You clutched your jacket tighter around yourself, pulling your knees up to your chest on the fabric seat. You were completely alone. You had chosen this, you reminded yourself. You had chosen survival over a love that was slowly turning you into dust.
But as the train sped up, plunging into a dark tunnel, you realized that surviving didn't mean it stopped hurting.
Satoru unlocked the apartment door with a quiet click.
"I'm home," he called out, his voice deliberately soft, testing the waters.
Silence answered him.
He smirked slightly, stepping inside and kicking off his shoes. Still mad, he thought. Classic.
He walked down the short hallway, the floorboards creaking under his weight. The apartment felt strangely cold, the air stagnant, as if no one had breathed in it for hours. He bypassed the kitchen and headed straight for the bedroom, expecting to see a lump under the duvet.
The bed was empty. The sheets were pulled neat, but they were cold when he reached out to touch them.
"Hey," he called out, turning around. "If you're hiding in the bathroom, I brought those strawberry daifuku you like. Don't be petty."
No response.
Satoru frowned, his Six Eyes picking up the distinct lack of cursed energy signatures in the room besides his own. You weren't here. A spark of irritation flared in his chest. Had you gone out this early just to avoid him?
He turned to walk toward the closet, intending to change out of his uniform, but his foot caught on something on the floor. He looked down.
It was a hairpin. Yours. The one heâd offhandedly mentioned looked nice on you a year ago, the one you wore almost every day. It was sitting alone on the hardwood floor, dropped and forgotten.
A strange, unfamiliar coldness began to creep up Satoruâs spine.
He slowly turned toward the dresser.
There, sitting in the center of the dark wood, was a small square of white paper. And resting on top of it, catching the morning light, was his silver spare house key.
Satoru stared at it. His brain, usually capable of processing infinite amounts of information in a fraction of a second, completely stalled. He walked over to the dresser, his movements suddenly heavy, the casual grace gone from his posture.
He picked up the key. It felt freezing against his palm.
He unfolded the note.
As his eyes scanned your handwritingâthe messy, hurried slant of your penâthe world around him seemed to lose its color.
I canât keep waiting for a man who is already gone... I am empty... Don't look for me.
"What?" Satoru whispered, the word sounding hollow in the empty room. "What is this?"
He read it again. And again. His six eyes searched the paper, analyzing the ink, the microscopic tears where your hands had shaken, as if he could find a hidden meaning, a punchline to a joke that wasn't funny.
Don't look for me.
"No," he said, a sudden, sharp spike of panic hitting his chest like a physical blow. "No, no, no."
He threw the note down, ripping his phone from his pocket. He remembered it was dead. With a frustrated curse, he practically tore the charger from the wall, forcing the plug into the phone. The screen lit up with the charging icon. He waited, his chest heaving, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
Come on. Come on, damn it.
The phone finally buzzed to life. He didn't even wait for the home screen to fully load before he slammed his thumb against your contact name and pressed it to his ear.
âThe mobile customer you are trying to reach is currently unavailableââ
He hung up and called again.
âThe mobile customerââ
"Answer the phone!" he roared into the empty apartment, his voice cracking with a raw, ugly emotion he hadn't felt in years. "Answer me!"
He dropped the phone onto the bed. He spun around, tearing open the closet doors.
Your side was half-empty. The suitcase was gone. Your favorite jackets, your bootsâgone.
The realization hit him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath straight out of his lungs. You hadn't just gone out for a walk. You hadn't gone to a friend's house to cool off.
You had left him.
Satoru stumbled back a step, his hand flying to his mouth. The arrogance, the god-complex, the untouchable barrier of his Infinityâit all crumbled, leaving him raw and bleeding in the center of the bedroom.
The train whistle.
The memory of the sound flashed through his mind, deafening and mocking. He heard the train whistle go off... once... then twice.
You had been at the station. While he was sitting on a roof, feeling smug and sorry for himself, thinking you were tucked safely in his bed waiting for his forgiveness, you were standing on a cold platform, pulling a suitcase, leaving him behind.
He could have stopped you. If he hadn't been so stubborn, if he had just come home last night, if his phone hadn't been dead, if he had just teleported to the station the moment he heard the whistleâ
But he hadn't. He had assumed he had time. He had assumed your love was a guarantee.
Satoru sank to his knees on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. The note lay on the floor by his feet, a stark reminder of his failure. For the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo felt completely, utterly powerless.
The strongest man in the world sat alone in a quiet apartment, clutching a silver key, suffocating in the space you had left behind.
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