ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ - the cute rich-boy who keeps on visiting your little ice cream shop likes you?
This was the 6th time this week that he had visited your humble little shop. And today was only Tuesday.
What does he want? Goodness. This much ice cream can't be good for one human being. You thought as you scooped birthday cake (his favorite) into a cone for him FOR THE 6TH TIME.
There were 3 possibilities. He was either a chud, an ice cream enthusiast, or someone with a ton of money to spend. You refused to acknowledge the 4th option that maybe he wanted your number.
The man in front of you was tall, lean, fair-skinned, had absurd white hair, and wore a derpy grin on his face despite looking like a grown ass adult. (Then again, a little whimsy never hurt anyone.)
You hand him his cone, your fingers brush slightly during the exchange, but you try to ignore that. His eyes linger on you a beat too long before he walks out of the shop.
The same thing happened the following week. You'd clock into work, he'd visit 1 to 3 times in one day while looking at you like a lovesick puppy and he'd give you the cash for the ice cream.
You told yourself it didn't matter whether or not he was litterally stuffing his guts full of dairy and cream—this was your job. You couldn't butt in. You shouldn't butt in. But—
"Sir, this is the..." You checked the small slip of paper full of tallies recording how many times he's visited the store this month, "Fourieth time you've came for ice cream this month. Look, I know this isn't my place but I really don't think this is healthy."
A bead of silence followed and his grin expanded, "You noticed me?"
You raise an eyebrow, "It's kinda hard not to when you're our best customer."
He leaned over the counter—not enough to invade your personal space but enough for you to catch a whisk of his expensive cologne.
"I'm Satoru. Satoru Gojo." He extended a hand. You grimaced but shook it anyway. It was warm, soft. Probably smelt like lavender from whatever fancy hand cream he was using.
"Um. Ok? But for your safety, I really don't think you should be taking in this much ice cream daily."
He doesn't seem phased. "I'll stop, only if I can get your number."
The audacity of some men.
You sigh, torn between telling him 'fuh no' and accepting out of concern.
"Fine. Here it is."
"And that, is how we met." Gojo chirps, giving you a side hug. He holds up his hand to show off his shiny diamond wedding ring to Geto and Shoko.
"So you pestered this poor woman and sacrificed your guts because you thought she was hot?" Shoko deadpans.
Gojo gasps, "No! It was more than that!" A beat of silence. "Ok, maybe that's kinda what happened."
Geto rubs his temples, "At least it worked."
Indeed it did.
a/n: im sorry but you've GOT to be rich to buy that much ice cream
gojos favorite flavor is birthday cake because i say so
prepare yourselves; I got an angsty zombie au saved in my drafts and I’m not afraid to use it!
edit: the zombie au is here (...ominous music woooo so scary)
summary: once in a lifetime you'll switch bodies with your soulmate and see the world through their eyes.
sukuna is initially frustrated when he's plunged into darkness in the body of a weak and blind woman, only to discover that there's more to her than he was expecting, leaving him on a mission to locate the shogi-playing courtesan whose soul called out to his.
word count: 11k
content: 18+ mdni, smut, soulmate au, heian era, initially rude sukuna, soft!sukuna, true form sukuna, courtesan reader, sickness, blindness, depiction of violence and death, happy ending, hurt/comfort, honestly its mainly fluff, devoted sukuna, piv, cunnilingus
a/n: after doing my satoru soulmate au i desperately wanted to do one for sukuna so here it is! inspired somewhat by komugi and meruem in hxh and ALSO by lakan and fengxian in apothecary diaries (as someone requested that from me!)
At one point in every person’s life, they will awaken in the body of another.
They will spend their day seeing through strange eyes, living out hours as a person they may have never met, trapped within their new form until sleep takes them and they are released back into their own body.
Those meagre hours are the only chance a person will have to find their other other half, to learn all they can about the body they’ve awoken in. There’s no second chance, no opportunity to swap for a second time.
If one cannot locate their soulmate after the day they’ve spent as them, they can find no further help. All they can hope for, is that they might stumble across their destined lover by mere chance one day.
Or, that their beloved did a better job than they did at piecing together the puzzle.
Sukuna found himself in another’s body in his mid-twenties, awakening one morning in complete darkness, even though he’d been certain his eyes were open. It was a strange feeling at first, a resignation to a suspicion he’d held all his life that there was no destined person for him, giving in to the belief that he’d spend a day floating in nothingness with no other half for his soul to cling to.
His assumption was broken swiftly, at the realisation that he still held some manner of awareness even if his sight was impaired. There was a breeze blowing against his body, chatter sounding off in the distance, and soft sheets were pressing up against skin which surely wasn’t his.
This person, whoever they were, had a body that was exhausted. He ached in places he’d never ached before, his shoulders and upper back straining, like their owner had been carrying a weight beyond their capability. He felt desperately weak in that form, suddenly aware that he only had a human number of limbs to control, and lacked the strength and size he was used to commanding.
In the darkness clouding his vision, he was surprised to find that the blackness wasn’t as deep as he’d originally thought, able to make out fuzzy shapes in the dark which he could only assume made up his surroundings. His hand reached for his eyes, setting his lips into a grim line at the confirmation they were open.
His destined lover was blind.
Disappointment settled into his chest. He had never taken much stock in soulmates in the first place, didn’t really believe in love, but this just furthered his confirmation that the whole matter was a farce. He found respect for the strong - strength was the only thing that truly mattered to him, and yet here he was, in the body of a blind woman.
A feeble little thing hardly able to fend for herself.
What good was she to a man like Sukuna?
A knock on the door startled him. “Are you awake? The madam wants me to help you get ready.”
Sukuna said nothing, trying to figure out why it felt like your body wanted to draw in on itself, your pulse quicking in a seemingly innate reaction to the voice at the door.
“Please, I know you’ve been ill but he’s been calling every day for the past week, the madam doesn’t want to keep him waiting any longer. He’s been bringing forth all manner of threat, and if you’re not careful he’ll buy you out. I know that isn’t what you want. Just let me tend to you and allow him a visit. Keep his temper at bay.”
Sukuna frowned, attempting to piece together what was happening. It was hard without the visual clues of his surroundings, but based on the snippet of conversation he concluded that you were likely a courtesan of some form. Once again, his view of you, and the soulmate system in general, dropped through the floor.
Blind and a whore.
Perfect.
“One moment.” He called out, taken aback by the lovely feminine voice that fell from his lips. It was a soft, delicate sound, one which wouldn’t sound out of place accompanied with a harp. He found himself shocked at how much he enjoyed it, considering saying something else just to hear it again.
Finding the door proved to be a more difficult task than he’d been expecting. He’d already stumbled standing up from your bed, thrown off by his lack of vision and by feet that were ridiculously small compared to what he was used to. His centre of gravity felt all wrong, and his body felt generally unbalanced without his lower set of arms.
Moving at a snail's pace, he made it across the room, impressed that he didn’t run into anything on his journey over. He was grateful for the shadowy outlines present in your visionless gaze, certain that the situation would be made harder without even that as a guide.
Fumbling for the handle, he slid open the door. “Morning. Oh honey, you look like a ghost.” A hand pressed against his skin, and he was ushered over to another part of the room, grateful for the guidance. There was the sound of a chair being moved. “Take a seat.”
Sukuna hesitated, not quite sure where the chair was. He reached out nonchalantly with his hand, trying to feel for it while the other woman’s focus was elsewhere, seemingly rifling through a bag of something. Able to just about make out a black splodge in the centre of his vision, Sukuna took a seat, only to thud down onto the floor.
It hurt. It hurt significantly more than pain Sukuna was used to enduring. He’d experienced all manner of injury - he’d had his blood and guts pouring out onto the floor in the midst of a fight, but somehow this was worse. How fragile was this body of yours? He was glad that he wasn’t born as some weak human, grateful that the abominable aspects of his body increased his strength rather than weakened it.
How could you live like this?
“My lady?” The woman seemed immediately panicked, reaching down and easily hoisting you up by the arm, aiding Sukuna onto the chair. “I’m sorry, you usually tell me you don’t need assistance, I wasn’t expecting-” she cut herself off for a moment, leaving Sukuna in silence and struggling to read the room with no visual cues. “You don’t seem like yourself at all this morning. You’re being very quiet.”
Sukuna said nothing, certain that he could hear the hint of a smile in the woman’s tone.
It was said that when soulmates swapped bodies, you could not under any circumstance tell someone that you were a different inhabitant to usual, else the spell would be broken and you’d both be immediately sent home.
It was an option Sukuna had contemplated the moment the woman walked in, eager to return to his own healthy form. However, he was also a man of great curiosity and it wasn’t like he had much going on at his estate that day anyway. So he opted for silence, figuring he’d at least see, or hear, how the day played out.
There was no harm in that.
Regardless, the woman had seemingly sensed it immediately based on her sudden change of demeanor, but being likely as aware of the rules as Sukuna was, she kept her suspicions silent.
“It's Officer Sugawara who’s set to see you today,” she explained, soft hands running through your hair with a comb, giving Sukuna a shiver of pleasure. “You usually play shogi with the guy for a while and let him get drunk. He’s a proud man who’s desperate for a legitimate win, so you always give him your best and he refuses to give up until he’s too pissed to think anymore. So be on your best game, or he might want to pass his time in another way.”
The warning was clear and Sukuna found himself disgusted. If that man tried to lay a single hand on you while he was inhabiting your body, he’d make sure Sugawara wouldn’t walk out of the establishment alive.
Fortunately, Sukuna was an avid shogi player. He held a great love for the game and was self-assured where his skill was concerned. No one in his estate could beat him, so he was certain he could beat some Officer of the Shogun.
Although, he’d never played it blind - a fact that mildly concerned him.
He hoped the pieces were skillfully made with deep indents, else he’d be completely lost.
“Even though you’re usually talkative with me, you’re not all that chatty with regulars, so it’ll be fine if you stay quiet. On account of you not feeling yourself and all,” she said with a knowing giggle.
It took an ungodly amount of time for that woman to get you ready, and Sukuna wondered how you could bear experiencing such a thing day after day. It seemed such a waste to have so much effort devoted to doing your hair and make-up, and dressing you up, when you couldn’t even see the end result.
For all you knew you could look like a clown.
But Sukuna quickly became certain that wasn’t the case when he was led into another room, your helper grasping his arm in a steadying manner and making sure he was settled down on a pillow before introducing him to a man sitting opposite him. Sugawara wasted no time with greetings, letting out a gasp of awe at your radiant appearance and reaching out to kiss your hand.
Sukuna wanted to reel away at the feeling but remained still all the same. He hoped he didn’t have too much of a scowl on his face.
Even if he didn’t have any interest in you, he didn’t really want to ruin the life of some random blind girl. He loved cruelty, but even for him that felt like an unnecessary slight to a person who was supposed to hold the other half of his heart.
“You look gorgeous. Not sickly at all, might I add. I hope the madam hasn’t been telling lies.”
You were sick - outside of the blindness - Sukuna could feel it. At first he’d brushed off your frailty as something normal for puny little humans, but since rising from your bed he’d become aware that your quivering legs, aching bones and hummingbird heart were far from normal.
“I haven’t been well,” he said simply.
“Oh you poor thing, it's always the most beautiful ones who suffer the most.”
Sukuna found himself wondering what you looked like. He had a vague knowledge of Official Sugawara - he wasn’t an ugly man, certainly not one lacking in prospects by any means. He was powerful in his position in the government, and wasn’t the type who would visit some woman out of pity.
You must’ve been genuinely gorgeous to earn such affection from him.
It was a shame Sukuna would never know.
He wouldn’t look for you once he was back in his own body. He’d move on with his life and that would be that, leaving this day as nothing more than some distant dream.
The games of shogi went by quickly, and Sukuna found that it was easy to slip into your body without arousing suspicion. Once he’d gotten over the original barrier of having to feel each piece for their indents as he picked them up, he fell easily into the flow of it all.
This man across from him seeked little conversation once the games had started, and Sukuna was pleased at how well he was playing that afternoon. He didn’t let the man win once and, as your attendant had mentioned, Suguwara filled himself up with more and more drink. It felt nice to play someone outside of his estate, most of his servants were too afraid to face Sukuna in any sort of test.
It was equally nice to completely destroy a government official with his skill. He was certain this man was having the worst game of his entire life, unaccustomed to this treatment from the lovely courtesan he’d frequent.
But it was at the end of the seventh game, when Sukuna was feeling at his highest, that a disastrous hit would come to his ego.
“You’re really off your game today. I see you really aren’t feeling well,” Sugawara said. There was the sound of shuffling fabric, as if the man had leant forward.
“What?” Sukuna asked, the low disbelief coming out strange in your small voice.
“Your plays are much sloppier than usual. It feels like you’re going easy on me, given you usually destroy me before I can even think about what to do next. Today you’ve been giving me proper games. I don’t like it. You know I hate being pitied.”
Sukuna had to stop his mouth from falling agape.
He wasn’t playing bad games by any means, on the contrary, he was certain that he was playing better than he had in a while, happy to have a new opponent for once. Was this man really saying that you, the normal you, was more skilled at shogi than he was? He really found that hard to believe.
What would some blind courtesan know of tactics?
“Perhaps you’ve simply improved,” Sukuna mumbled bitterly, unwilling to accept that your mastery was greater than his.
Sugawara laughed. “How polite of you, my dear. I can assure you that isn’t the case, and we both know it.” There was some shuffling, and Sukuna sensed that the man was climbing to his feet. It was frustrating to have such limited vision, and he was glad to know that he’d wake up the following day able to see the world once more - he couldn’t imagine living like that all the time. “I’ll leave you to rest. When I return in a few days you best have returned to form, or perhaps the nature of our meetings will need to change.”
A heavy hand rested on your shoulder, wet and clammy against the silk you were draped in. Sukuna wasn’t sure if the disgust was born from his own thoughts on the matter, or from an impulsive response from your body. From your attendant’s words it was clear that you would never sleep with the man, likely keeping your shogi skills sharp to ensure he never won.
Once he was gone, Sukuna sat there in silence, thinking on the man’s parting words.
Were you really so talented?
Part of him wanted to convince himself that he’d been playing worse than usual on account of not being able to see the board, making it difficult for him to think out moves in advance, taking more time than normal while he grazed the pieces with his fingers.
But deep in his soul he knew that wasn’t the case.
He’d played expertly, and still that man knew his opponent wasn’t the real you. All on account of how amateur Sukuna’s ability had seemed compared to yours.
And as his day drew to a close in your body, he realised that he had to know. He had to play you, had to see firsthand just how dramatically your skill exceeded his. He wouldn’t believe it until he’d seen it.
The soulmate thing didn’t matter.
But he needed to meet with you all the same.
Just to sate his interest. That was all.
—
Months had passed since the day you’d swapped with your soulmate. Since the morning you’d awoken to a world of light of colour you’d never seen before, and would never see again.
It was a day you’d never be able to forget - the image of the grand estate you’d awoken in seared permanently into your mind, just like the face of your soulmate who had stared back at you in a bronze mirror. You’d gazed upon his body for longer than you should admit to, wondering for a brief moment if you’d misunderstood how humans looked.
That thought didn’t remain for long. It took no expert to understand that the man you’d been paired with was something unique - the very four armed monster who had half of Japan living in fear.
And as such, you wished you could forget your experience in his body, wished you could see anything but his oddly charming face, because your promised beloved was a monster of the highest calibre. But with only one singular day of vision under your belt, what you’d seen wasn’t so easily displaced, and you found yourself thinking of him often with a longing that you knew to be wrong.
You had told no one of the experience, not even your handmaid, who had outright asked what your body swap experience had been like, what your soulmate had been like, claiming that whoever they were had presented themselves as rather reserved when possessing your body. You’d brushed her off with a shrug, claiming him to be some soldier and nothing more.
No one could know the truth. If they knew you to have any link to such a terrible man they might view you as an associate, and someone deserving of death for something you hadn’t asked for.
The workings of fate seemed strange to you. Was it not enough punishment to be born blind? Why would you also be paired with a monster who seemed to view the human race with general disdain? You were certain he cared little for love, his servant had made that clear when you were in his body, so any hopes of having a soulmate had been stolen from you as a result of this pairing.
Part of you wondered if a man so vile as him might even take things a step further and track you down to put an end to your life, insulted by fate to suggest that it could control him in any capacity. Perhaps he would be further insulted to be paired with someone so damaged rather than some untarnished beauty.
You’d always heard he held great hatred for weakness.
Even so, despite your fear and desire to conceal yourself from him, you couldn’t forget him, couldn’t stop the flicker of longing in your chest you were certain all people held for their destined lovers. Because while he was unquestionably a monster, with a throne of skulls you had witnessed through his very eyes, he also seemed to be more than that.
He was a man of great loneliness, living in grand halls with only a handful of servants for company - and all but one of them would scuttle out of the way when he approached. He seemed to hold a great love for art, with his estate packed with paintings and tapestries and great vases, all kept in pristine condition. For a cannibal, he seemed to take great pride in the cleanliness of his surroundings, in the neat nature of his gardens and springs.
Even in his own appearance, he seemed to take great care, for there was no denying him to be a handsome man even with his unique features. He had a voice to match that beauty, one that you could hardly peel from your mind any more than you could forget his image.
His body was hard to maneuver, too big and confusing to control his many hanging limbs. In a way, it felt akin to your blindness, something different to the way humans were built to be, leaving him to struggle with an issue that no one else could relate to. You wondered how it had been for him in childhood - if he’d felt as isolated and scared as you had to know that everyone else was normal in a way you’d never been.
You pitied him, even through all his sins. You felt you could understand at least a piece of him from a day buried within the confines of his skin.
But still, you would never reach for him - wouldn’t poke the bear even if you could understand why it might bite. You were certain that someone like him would be unwilling to hear you out, unwilling to love or reflect on how he became the way he was - he would swipe your head from your shoulders just like everyone else, and that would be that.
So you would stay away, keep your dreams of him locked deep within your chest, and accept that distance was for the best.
There was more to life than soulmates.
Unfortunately, that choice wasn’t yours alone to make.
The madame had knocked on your door early that morning, with the golden light of the sun only just starting to peek in through your window. Lately you’d been having longer lie-ins and taking less clients as the cold of winter gripped the region. Along with the blindness, you’d been born with a particularly feeble body as a result of complications with your mother during her pregnancy, ailments which were always worse for you in the colder months.
Your bones strained as you pushed yourself up to a sitting position, calling for the woman to enter. As much as you longed to slip back into your dream of red eyes peering back at you with fiery desire, you were still beholden to the will of your employer, even in your months of weakness.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” She asked, as she slipped in through the door. You felt her weight dip the bed as she took a seat beside you, a gentle hand coming to rest on your shoulder.
“Mornings are always the worst but I can manage once I’m up and about. Has Sugawara come calling again?” Most regulars were understanding enough of your condition, and those that weren’t would generally be chased off by the madame or unloaded onto another of the courtesans. Sugawara was one of the few that generally wouldn’t accept such treatment, with only eyes for you.
It didn’t matter too much since the man only ever wanted to play shogi, and that was manageable enough even on your worst days. It seemed that he had no intention of laying with you until he’d beat you in a game fair and square, claiming that if that ever happened he’d buy you out and take you home for he would’ve earned your heart.
That talk always made you uncomfortable, for you had little interest in the man, but you were more than certain he had no chance at ever defeating you at shogi, and could therefore never lay claim to you - assuming he kept his word.
“Not Sugawara…” There was hesitation in her voice. “We’ve received a request for our finest shogi player to be sent to the mayor’s home this evening. Apparently the other courtesan houses have received the same request.”
“I didn’t think the mayor cared much for shogi.”
Again, there was a moment of silence. “No, he doesn’t. A rather unwanted guest has taken up residence in his home, and this is the demand that has come of it.” Immediately your blood ran cold, thoughts drifting away from the madame’s continuing chatter to the red eyes that sat so prominently in the darkness of your mind.
There was no question in your mind as to who this guest was.
And to call for shogi players had you certain he was looking for you. Would he execute you when you walked into a room so clearly lacking in vision? Put an immediate end to the one person who could potentially stir his cold heart if fate were to be believed?
It seemed like the only reasonable explanation
The request to send another in your place died on the tip of your tongue as you once again tuned in to what the madame was saying. “...make sure you’re in top form, I’ve heard any who lose to him are immediately disposed of, but I’m sure that man will be no match for you.”
You wouldn’t send another to face their death. You were the only courtesan in the house who was any good at shogi, anyone else would certainly perish. This was a meeting dictated by fate and you had no opportunity to run from it. You would face him head on and deal with your death graciously, greet your end alone in the dark just like everything else you’d ever faced.
“I’ll do my best,” you said to the madame, and that was the final moment you had for yourself, your sacrifice sealed by your words.
The rest of the morning was spent in a frenzied rush, dressing you up and perfecting your makeup, turning you into a sparkling beauty ahead of your presentation to a monster. Based on the quiet nature of your handmaid, the experience felt more like she was dressing your corpse for burial.
Neither of you spoke such a thing aloud, but tears dripped from sightless eyes all the same when she led you out to the carriage, the madam trailing behind her, sending you off with a soft farewell filled with a sense of finality.
—
Sukuna had undergone an annoying few months.
Steadily, he had made his way, region by region, up to the north of Japan in search of a blind shogi player whose skill allegedly eclipsed his own. In each area, he would call upon all shogi-playing courtesans to meet with him and join him in a game, in the hopes that one day it would be you sitting across from him.
So far, he’d been unsuccessful, and had left a growing pile of bodies and burnt villages in his wake, utterly irritated that the thing he was seeking still evaded his grasp. No one had beaten him. A few had come close but none of them had been blind, so he could be certain that they weren’t you.
He was beginning to wonder if you’d gone into hiding somewhere, forsaking your courtesan life entirely in a bid to avoid him. It wouldn’t surprise him - you’d been in his body, you’d seen he was a monster, a fragile little thing like you was probably terrified at the idea of ever crossing his path.
Either way, he’d still persevere. He’d kill every shogi player if that was what it took to get to you.
He’d recently found his way into the mountainous region of Miyagi, where winter was in full spring. Taking up residence in the mayor’s home in one of the more populous towns in the prefecture, he once again started his usual process of gathering the shogi players. Word spread fast and droves of them appeared swiftly, waiting to be called before him.
It went much as usual, with boring girls presenting themselves before him and providing him with equally boring games of shogi. These people were painfully predictable with no appreciation for the art of the game - really it was a gift for him to steal their lives from them, because he couldn’t imagine living while being so pitifully unskilled.
The pool of Miyagi courtesans was gradually running dry and Sukuna was preparing himself for another disappointing journey further north when his luck finally shifted.
He knew he’d found you the moment you walked in through the door.
You’d stumbled in meekly, eyes averted down to the floor as you bowed low and shuffled towards the centre of the room. You were taking care not to raise your head for him to look upon, and he quickly realised you were making your best effort to conceal your blindness from him, like you could keep your identity secret that way.
It was a futile attempt, for the very atmosphere around you felt charged, his heart picking up inexplicably at the very sight of you.
To say you were beautiful was an understatement. Everything about you was gorgeous, from your soft hair to the striking intensity of your unseeing eyes. You wore the finest silks and they hung off you well, complimenting your figure. He found himself eager to touch you, to rid you off your lovely gown and have his fingers against your smooth skin.
But that wasn’t the reason he had come, and he would play you before entertaining any other matter.
“Sit,” he ordered, taking great amusement in the shiver that seemed to run through you at the sound of his voice.
You dropped to your knees on the cushion before the board, hands pressing against the edge of the table. It was the first chance he got to take a proper look at your eyes, expecting them to be clouded over, but taken aback by the lovely colour your irises still held beneath that mist.
“You’re blind.” He observed aloud, taking note of the way your teeth caught your lower lip anxiously.
“I see more than enough,” your response was guarded.
He hummed, a sly grin settling on his face. Idly, he wondered if you could sense it, because you seemed to tense up a little, fidgeting across from him in a way his traitorous brain seemed to register as endearing. “Is that so? Do you see enough to know my strategy before we commence? Or will you disappoint me like the others?”
“You tell me.”
Your words had his heart stirring against his will, impressed by your serenity before him, still sitting up straight and calm despite the fear he could sense within you. You were a woman who held confidence despite it all, harboured strength even in the face of your obvious weaknesses. He wondered what you were thinking, if you believed he was there to execute you for the mere transgression of being his soulmate.
It wasn’t a foolish assumption.
He would kill you without a second thought if you were uninteresting to him.
But he’d reserve that judgement until after you had played. He had been promised someone exceptional and that was what he wished to see, anything less and your blood would stain the floor just like every other woman who had sat before him. Would you still be so calm if you could see the bodies littering the room? He assumed not.
He wondered if you hated him, if you cursed fate itself to be paired with a man like him. Nothing about you gave anything away, all your focus fixed on the board in front of you, your hands moving steadily against the wood of the board, as if centring yourself.
“Shall we begin?” He asked.
“Yes.”
Sukuna couldn’t quite comprehend what had transpired in that first game he played against you.
He had approached things in much the same manner that he always would when playing shogi - opening strong and attempting to completely overwhelm his opponent, and yet somehow he found opportunities snatched from him at every turn.
Nothing seemed to catch you off guard. Any attempted play was greeted with an easy answer from you, as though you were battling a child. You were always three steps ahead of him, never hesitating in the shifting of a piece, moving with a certainty that had him transfixed.
He found that he couldn’t draw his eyes away from you, his struggle on the board forgotten at the realisation he’d been well and truly defeated. There was no point in struggling further - you had swatted him aside in the way that he usually defeated others, and you had done it with no glee or brag, nothing more than passive indifference once the games finally came to an end.
Your shoulders were raised, as if awaiting something you wouldn’t be able to see coming. A strike from him, perhaps? Or the neat removal of your head from your shoulders? The same fate of all others he’d played across the last few months.
But he wasn’t in the position to do anything at that moment, lashes fluttering as he stared at you, his heart hammering against his ribcage.
There had been no lie told about your skill - on the contrary, you had exceeded his expectations spectacularly. He wanted to play you again and again, wanted to witness the beauty of the way you played, wished to spend hours lost deep in thought considering how he could even begin to pick you apart in a match.
He could spend years sitting across you, gazing upon your lovely form while you worked away in silence with such unquestionable mastery.
No wonder Sugawara had been disappointed in Sukuna’s ability. He couldn’t hold a candle to what you were.
“How?” He asked, unable to think of another word to offer.
Your head was still lowered, eyes fixed elsewhere. He wished you’d look at him, allow him a clearer view of your face, but it occurred to him that such a request may not be easily granted with your lack of vision. You would never be able to lock eyes with each other - it would be something entirely meaningless for you.
“You aren’t all that good,” you spoke softly, a smile playing on your lips.
Sukuna disagreed with your sentiment, considering he’d never been beaten before, but perhaps you’d consider all his previous opponents to be genuinely pitiful at the game.
“So, will you take my life now? Or is that reserved for the losers?” You asked.
“To take the life of someone I could not best would be cowardly and pointless,” he said with a snort. “How would I ever grow to be better than you if I extinguished you from the world? Don’t be foolish. We will play again.”
And again you played.
Game after game until the sun began to rise in the sky, and Sukuna could sense exhaustion drifting through your fragile form. You were shivering from the cold, and he had Uraume bring in a robe to wrap around you, keenly aware of how sickly you seemed to look beneath all the beauty. You were setting up the board for your tenth match when Sukuna finally put an end to things.
“Enough. I would take no joy in defeating an exhausted opponent.” He rose to his feet, stretching as he moved. He wasn’t keen on remaining still for long periods of time, but you seemed accustomed to it, staying deathly still upon your cushion, uncertainty evident in your posture.
“Then, you will send me to my home?” You asked.
“No.” The word escaped him before he could stop it.
He did not wish for you to go anywhere, lest you slip from his grasp never to be found again. It was because he wanted to play you more, that’s what he told himself, but there was more to it than that, and in his soul he knew it.
He never wanted the image of you on your knees before him to slip away, never wanted to lose the pleasurable feeling of warmth that swelled in his chest with you there within his gaze.
“You’ll accompany me to my home, and we’ll play until I’m satisfied.”
—
Weeks had passed since you’d arrived at Sukuna’s estate in the Hida Mountains.
You’d been given no time to bid goodbye to the women at the only home you’d ever known, swept off in a carriage down south where you had to relearn your surroundings in a totally new environment.
Of course, it wasn’t the first time you’d been in the estate, but that experience made little impact on the ease of traversing around with no vision. You had to move slowly, fingers brushing on blurry objects shadowed in the darkness, hoping you didn’t trip over something or walk into a screen door.
For the most part, you were left to your own devices. Sukuna had spoken little to you on the journey home, opting to ride on his horse rather than in the carriage with you, and he’d been equally elusive in his own estate, leaving you in isolation for days at a time.
You couldn’t complain, for your days were spent in peace and serenity.
You would take long walks in the breeze of his garden, have his servants read aloud to you, and practice playing the erhu. On days where it was particularly cold and the chill seeped into your bones, you would remain in the grand bed he had provided and find greater comfort than you ever had in the old bed you’d laid upon in the courtesan house.
The only obligation you ever had to fulfill were shogi games. And during the times that he wasn’t absent from the estate, those would take place every evening, in Sukuna’s own private quarters.
It was an odd decision, considering that the servants played shogi out in the garden, where a proper table was set up for that purpose. But it seemed that Sukuna took care in ensuring your meetings were private - a decision you didn’t dare read into too deeply.
You didn’t dare read into any of his behaviour too deeply, lest you rip your own heart from your chest.
That first meeting with him had been like nothing you’d ever experienced - genuine desire overcoming you at the deep tone of his voice. Even knowing that he could cause your death with little effort, you couldn’t bury the lust within you, a fire that only burned stronger with each encounter with him.
It was hard to hold it together, to pretend that you wouldn’t fling yourself into his arms given the chance, but you tried all the same, keeping yourself distant and cold, like you didn’t dream of him between your legs each night, imagining the sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings against your ear.
Whether he felt the effect to the same extent you did, you weren’t sure. You were certain you’d never know. His interest in you was surrounding shogi, and shogi alone.
One evening, you were sitting across from him having played a handful of games, finding victory had fallen into your hands even more easily than normal. Sukuna seemed distracted by something, the sound of fidgeting settling in your ears. He hadn’t moved to start a new game, and based on the shadowy shapes in your vision, you could only assume he was leaning forward upon the table, bringing him close enough for his breath to fan your face.
“I killed today,” he said. Those were the first words he’d spoken to you that evening - you always followed his example with conversation, if he was feeling chatty you would indulge him, if he wished for silence you would give him that too.
You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with that statement, nor were you certain what type of response he was seeking, so you offered him a hum of acknowledgement and little more. You didn’t wish to think of the death that stained his hands, but nor did it build your animosity towards him.
To some extent you could understand lashing out at the world when you were someone so desperately lonely as he was. Part of you believed that if you hadn’t been so frail perhaps you’d lash out at the world for your own condition. His primary servant had told you he’d been despised throughout his life, and when you find only cruelty in humans it's difficult to cling to kindness.
Sukuna wasn’t so simple as a mere monster. You’d understood that in the day you’d spent in his body, and had only further confirmed it by the intelligence he displayed when you’d speak over games of shogi. He had a great admiration for art and skill, and had seemed rather taken when you’d recited poetry, responding with verses of his own.
He was a multi-faceted man, and much of what you saw only seemed to further your attraction to him, even knowing it was wrong, even knowing you’d be hated for it. For once, you felt you’d found someone who understood what it was like to be you, to be cut off from the easy lives lived by most others.
A soul that entwined so perfectly with yours, even if he’d never be aware of such a thing.
“Do you wish to know who I killed?” He asked.
“I know few people, my lord. I doubt a name would mean anything to me.”
“This one might. I’ve heard you’re familiar with Officer Sugawara? He’s one of the Shogun’s men?”
Thoughts of your regular flickered through your mind. If you were being honest with yourself, you were glad to not have to see him anymore - him or any of the other clients you’d been forced to take. Courtesan life had been difficult for you, forced into it thanks to the conditions of your birth and kept there by a disability that made it hard to escape the life for something better.
Life in Sukuna’s estate had been easier, especially as the weeks passed and you grew more comfortable in the belief that Sukuna wasn't going to steal your life from you. You’d lived in fear of Sugawara buying you out, of being forced to live like some doll in the house of a terribly boring man whose voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to your ears.
“I know him.”
“Knew him, would be more apt. His body lies at the foot of the mountain.” Sukuna spoke matter-of-factly. “He came to claim you from me. I refused and we couldn’t reach an amicable agreement, so I dealt with it another way.”
You weren’t sure how to react, struggling to process the words. That Sugawara would follow you down to Hida already came as a surprise, you hadn’t known how deep his devotion ran. But somehow, you found yourself rather taken by Sukuna’s decision, by the certainty in his choice to keep you.
To kill a man whose death could cause him issues with the Shogun might as well have been an outright confession of love.
Sugawara’s death meant little to you. Men like that died all the time, and they saw women as little more than pretty objects to own. Sugawara had seen you as an impressive party trick, a clever cat rather than a human with depth and desires of her own. You hadn’t wanted to be his, wouldn’t have liked for Sukuna to surrender you to him.
“Are you irritated with me? When I controlled your body you seemed repulsed at his presence. Perhaps you have a heart too soft for blood and death.”
“No- I-” You hesitated. “Did you do this to protect me?”
There was silence for a moment, and you longed to see his facial expression, but were forced to settle for the hint of confusion in his tone. “Of course. I’ve protected you since bringing you here. You can hardly protect yourself.”
You couldn’t find it in you to be offended - he’d been in your body, he knew of your frailty better than anyone.
“Why? Just because you enjoy shogi so much?”
“Somewhat. Though I must confess, lately I have been losing interest in the game. I feel I’ve come up against an insurmountable wall.” Panic filled you immediately, mind running at a million miles a minute as you analysed his statement. If he was growing bored of playing would he cast you aside? What use did he have for you if not shogi?
But then again, why would he kill Sugawara if he was moments from disposing of you?
“Perhaps it is the fault of my own discipline, for I’ve found it hard to focus on the game for quite some time now.” He hesitated, and you found yourself flinching at the feeling of a soft hand caressing your cheek, leaning into it once you overcame the initial shock of touch. “It is difficult when you have a beautiful woman sitting across from you. It’s even harder when my soul calls for you whenever you're near, drowning out any thoughts I might gather of strategy.”
“Oh.” You weren’t sure what to say, wondering if you should pinch yourself, for many of your dreams centred themselves around such a confession. But the touch had never felt so real before, large fingers brushing against the soft skin of your face.
“I wonder if I’d be more focussed if I admitted fate might make some sense after all. I have never denied myself anything before now, and I’m tired of denying myself you. You have captivated me thoroughly, and I believe the hole in my chest was carved out to allow you to one day settle there.”
The words were by far the most romantic statement anyone had ever uttered to you. In your time as a courtesan you’d heard plenty of cheesy and affectionate lines, ones you’d brush off and forget by the time the client was done with you. Sukuna’s words would burrow into your heart and remain there for as long as you drew breath.
Could anyone fault you for loving a monster who would speak such beauty to you? Could you be hated for finding one who had been cursed by the world just like you had?
“I have no care for the Shogun’s men,” Sukuna continued, “in my eyes they are little more than flies most of the time, an annoying thing to be ignored unless they brush too close. Would it amuse you to know I killed Sugawara out of jealousy? To hear that my chest tightened at the idea of you being taken from my side?”
“Because you enjoy having such a capable rival in intelligence?” You asked, a wry smile creeping onto your face.
“Because I enjoy you.”
It was clear he was waiting for you to say something. The words that had poured from his mouth were unlike any he’d spoken before, and although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the sense of restlessness that gripped his body.
You would not leave him in uncertainty.
“I have only ever seen the world through your eyes,” you confessed shyly, “the only face I see in the endless darkness is yours, and I dream of it every night.” Sukuna’s fingers twitched against your face. “If you’ll have me, I am yours.”
“Even though I’m a monster?” He asked. There was no remorse in his tone, nothing to suggest that he was pained over who he was, it was just an honest question for you to answer as you wished. “You were scared of me when we met. I know you hid yourself from me after discovering our connection, eager to ensure our paths would never cross.”
“Because I believed you would kill me. I thought you to be a man who would stamp out any notion of love and eliminate me along with it.”
He hummed in acknowledgement, failing to deny your statement. You knew it to be true - if you had lost your shogi game on that first meeting, he would’ve done exactly that. It was in his nature to love only that which piqued his interest.
“Especially to be paired with someone so weak, I thought you would consider it an insult.”
He scoffed. “You are far from weak, I’ve found it impossible to best you.”
“I meant physically,” your voice went small. “I did not imagine the King of Curses would favour a sightless woman, nor one so easily broken.”
He was silent for a moment, seemingly processing your words. “I was small and frail once. Perhaps frailer than you. I wish someone had valued me then for my other virtues. I’m big enough and sharp enough to make up for your failings and you are clever enough to cover mine.”
Your mind was reeling at the idea of him admitting to having failings. Your heart stirring at his affection, and his easy desire despite your condition.
“I had not imagined a soulmate to be so well suited to me, for my tangles with fate have always been cruel,” he said. “But you’re something different, something I need at my side, and I will be your eyes, your protector, whatever it is you want in order to keep you there.”
“Oh.” You were positively blushing, whole body trembling beneath the weight of lovely words spoken in that deep voice of his.
Your soulmate wanted you.
A man hated by the world and filled with hatred in return had a space carved out for you, a space for love you hadn’t known him capable of.
You’d loved him from the first time you’d met him, drawn to him by an inexplicable force which seemed to grip him just as hard.
Soulmates really were wonderful.
Silence had settled between the two of you, only broken as the table screeched across the floor, the barrier between you removed. Sukuna shifted forward and an arm came to rest around your smaller body, pulling you towards him. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss you could only describe as sweet.
He didn’t dominate you in the manner you believed a man like him would, instead he took his time, mapping out your lips and drawing you closer to him, letting you bathe in the warmth of his body against yours. It was almost like he was trying not to scare you, aware that you couldn’t see anything he was doing and trying to move slowly as a result.
You wouldn’t have minded either way, your fingers clinging to the biceps of his upper arms, desperate for more of a touch you’d only ever dreamed of.
People always said that to finally touch your soulmate was a euphoria like nothing else, and you truly believed them to be right. Your head felt like it was swimming, chest swelling as if Sukuna’s own soul had wriggled beneath your skin to intertwine with your own.
It was a little overwhelming.
“How I long for you,” he murmured against your ear, breaking the kiss. “I was foolish to have not had you the moment I laid eyes on you, I’ve ached for your touch longer than I care to admit.”
His fingers moved down to your robes, and your breath hitched at the touch. You were no stranger to sex, your job had required it, but the feeling as he undressed you wasn’t like any previous encounter you’d had. What regulars thought of your body was insignificant to you, sex was nothing special with them, just something you had to do if you wished to make a living wage.
This was the first time you’d ever been touched for free by someone you desired, and you felt suddenly nervous at your frail body being judged beneath his crimson gaze - especially when you couldn’t look upon him in the same moment. There was no distraction in the darkness to keep you from worrying about how his gaze might burn through you, imagining discontent on his handsome face.
A cold chill caught you once your robes fell, leaving you kneeling and exposed in front of him. A soft breath fell from his lips, fingers moving delicately from your shoulders down to your breasts, as if checking you were truly real and there before him. More heat flooded you as his finger brushed over your peaked nipple.
“Beautiful. If I didn’t despise the idea of sharing you with another I would paint you like this. Your body is worthy of that reverence.”
“I think my mind is probably more splendid.” You confessed. You had no eyes for awareness of your appearance, and had subsequently never really relied on it. People had said you were lovely, but you could never quite believe it, assuming that they were taking pity on you for your blindness.
“Your mind is exceptional. If I cannot beat you at shogi soon I have half a mind to ask you to assist me with real life strategy,” he said with a chuckle, fingers still trailing a slow path down your body. “But it doesn’t make your body any less lovely, and you cannot deny such things since you’ve never seen yourself. Let me be your eyes and tell you that you are breathtaking.”
A shyness overcame you at those words, head angled downwards as if it would hide your blushing state from him. He raised your chin with a finger, his nose bumping yours before capturing your mouth in a kiss once more, bringing you close against his bare chest. You were so lost in the comfort of the kiss, that you found yourself completely caught off guard when something wet swiped against your stomach and breasts.
Flinching in surprise, you drew yourself back in an attempt to understand what was happening. Sukuna laughed, a hand moving into your hair comfortingly. “It's my tongue,” he spoke easily.
Frowning, you found that his answer didn’t make sense, because still the wet appendage explored your breasts, sending your heartrate flying as it flicked against your nipple with impressive accuracy. How could he be speaking but also doing that?
“There’s a mouth on my stomach. Perhaps you didn’t notice when you controlled my body.”
You were ashamed to admit you hadn’t noticed such a thing. Sukuna had been naked when you’d awoken in his body, and you’d been quick to dress him up in robes, feeling rude to intrude upon the body of another without consent. You’d very intentionally not paid too much attention to the workings of his body, not when the first thing you’d seen was the oddity he sported between his legs.
The memory that he had two of what most men only had one, suddenly had you feeling a little nervous in your position. You had no time to voice such nervousness before he was picking you up, allowing his second tongue to continue its onslaught while he carried you over to the bed, depositing you down upon the silk.
His weight moved on top of you, and he swallowed a gasp with his lips as his monstrous tongue shifted its attention from your breasts down to between your legs, dexterously finding a path between your things and lathering your pussy with attention while Sukuna consumed your mouth. Tears pricked in your eyes at the sensation, unaccustomed to a feeling like that.
In all your years as a courtesan, you’d never been eaten out. Men didn’t come to brothels to serve women, they came to have their own needs attended to, and you’d done that in whichever manner they desired. You were grateful to have never experienced that feeling before, because it was a blessing to have Sukuna be your first.
Pressure built in your stomach over a series of minutes, overwhelmed by the way he seemed to be everywhere. A tongue between your lips, another between your thighs, hands squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, more hands gripping your hips, pulling you up onto his secondary tongue to allow it a better angle to overwhelm you.
For the first time, you started to understand how Sukuna must feel whenever he played you at shogi - stumbling blindly in the dark whilst overcome from all angles with no means of knowing what was going to come next. It was pleasure in its highest form, and you were quick to cum with a yelp of his name, tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.
Sukuna broke the kiss, breathing heavily against your ear. It was a sound you enjoyed, one you could listen to all day if he’d allow you. “I have imagined you beneath me like this every night this week,” he mused, “my imagination is hardly as pleasant as having the real thing. You taste much sweeter than my mind could conjure.”
Again, you were flushing red. “Y-you can taste me through…that?”
“Of course.” You were certain he was grinning, “And I’m glad that I can.” His secondary tongue was still moving slowly through your folds, lapping up the remnants of your first orgasm, teasingly flicking against your clit and making your shudder.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, breathing quietly together. You weren’t sure what Sukuna wanted to do next, but for a moment you were happy to savor the warmth of his heavy body, twitching while he lazily continued his attention to your body. How you longed to see him, eager to witness the expression he was wearing while he attended to you.
All you had to go off was the erratic beating of his heart where his chest was pressed against you.
“Let me have you,” he murmured against your ear. “Let me make you mine.”
“I’m already yours.”
“Is that so? Then let me make it official.”
He shifted atop you, withdrawing his secondary tongue. In the absence of that heat between your thighs, you grew suddenly aware of a heavy pressure against your leg. Your mind jumped to the image of his cocks that you’d filed away in the back of your mind, gut twisting at the thought of either one of them pressing into you.
Sukuna chuckled from above you, a hand coming to stroke your hair. “You’ve seen them, haven’t you?”
You nodded.
“I can tell, you’ve got that scared little look on your face. It’s fascinating, when you play shogi you’re unreadable, but outside of that? You’re practically an open book with your emotions always written across your face.”
Pouting, you let humiliation wash over you. Nobody had ever told you that before. It was hard to guard one's emotions when you had no measure of how the faces of others looked. That was something you’d have to work on. At least you had the good sense to give nothing away when you played shogi.
Another laugh echoed from his lips. “Even now I can see your panic. It’s very endearing.”
Any protest or response you had for him faded away into the recesses of your brain as he shuffled on top of you. He maneuvered you carefully into a new position, raising your legs and placing them up atop his broad shoulders. You were grateful for your flexibility in that moment, because the size difference between the two of you made that no easy task.
Sukuna was watching you from above while he positioned one of his cocks between your legs, running it steadily through your wet folds in a way that had you shivering with desire, still not fully recovered from the actions of his tongue. You were quick to discover that his focus was on his lower cock, as the upper one bumped pleasurably against your clit.
“You know,” he mused, stilling his movements. “I’m surprised you struck no deal with me. It is what I had imagined you would do.”
“What?”
“I’d assumed I would ask for more and you would refuse me. I’d thought your respect was tied to shogi, that you would refuse anything from me unless I was capable of beating you.” Your mind moved to Sugawara as you connected the dots. Sukuna believed you’d made that deal before, as if that tiresome Official hadn’t dictated those rules of his own choosing.
Shogi was a game you adored, mainly because it was an activity you could excel at even without sight, unlike many other courtesan pastimes such as painting, which would forever be an impossibility for you. But it was by no means something you made all your decisions on, nor were you particularly interested in the skill of others.
If someone could defeat you, you would congratulate them for their win and move on, it would ultimately mean little.
To you, it was little more than a game. To various men, it seemed to be something held in much higher regard - a true mark of intelligence rather than a game for which one could learn and remember strategies to allow them a win.
It mattered little to you whether Sukuna could defeat you or not. Your affection for him wasn’t tied to it in any manner.
“To make such a demand would be wasting my own time. Why would I turn down a man I desire over something so trivial? Besides, my bet with Sugawara was made to ensure I never had to lay with him, that is not the fate I want for us.”
“So you believe I am incapable of winning?” He asked, with greater disappointment than you’d been expecting.
“I do,” you said with a giggle, “just as I am incapable of emerging victorious in a battle. We all have our strengths.”
A yelp fell from you as he pushed the tip of his cock into you, catching you unawares. “Yeah?” He asked, pressing deeper into you, his fingers tangling tightly into your hair. “Rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
You couldn’t help but laugh again - even in the midst of the dull pain of him driving into you, there was something so endearingly pathetic about his words.
“I am. But you’re free to challenge me whenever you like.”
He was silent as he bottomed out inside of you, his face falling to your neck and leaving a trail of kisses and bites along your skin while he allowed you some time to adjust. You were grateful for his consideration of your wellbeing, fingers digging into his skin, your gut aching as he leaned forwards over you, pushing your legs higher on his shoulders.
There was no question that he was the largest man you’d ever had inside you, practically tearing you apart with his intrusion, but after a few minutes of stillness you found yourself able to relax, the panic exhibited by your body slowly dissipating as you accommodated his size.
“I will challenge you whenever I like,” he whispered against your ear. “After this, the cloud of lust you’ve placed in my mind will be thinner, and I will beat you with ease.”
“Oh, I’m sure-”
Your snarky response was promptly cut off as he withdrew himself from you, only to swiftly fill you up once more, pulling a desperate cry of his name from your lips. There was no second adjustment period given, instead you found yourself clinging on for dear life as he filled you over and over again with swift and deep thrusts that had your eyes rolling back.
One of his hands moved to your stomach, pressing down against the bulge where his cock would press up inside you. It was clear he was fascinated by it, finding great enjoyment in you being claimed by him. You were certain he was no virgin, but it seemed that you were the first woman who meant something to him, the first one who was worth something beyond carnal pleasure.
Legs quivering beneath the weight of his thrusts, you appreciated the way two of his hands came to rest on your thighs, keeping you steady with each brutal snap of his hips. You were crying and whining, your hands blindly reaching for him but finding him just out of range in this position. Seemingly to appease you, he leant further forward, really testing the flexibility of your legs as he practically folded you in half.
Lips pressed against your forehead affectionately, and you enjoyed every single second of his attention, mind floating off on a cloud as your gut tightened with each careful stroke, your walls flexing around his cock. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a feeling only heightened by the erratic contact of his higher cock rubbing up against your clit.
“You feel so good, fuck. I can’t last like this,” he grumbled, never losing pace. It stroked your ego to know of his desire, to understand just how much he’d been holding back since your first meeting. It was everything you imagined the joining of two soulmates would be - desperately euphoric and overflowing with pleasure.
Sex had never felt so good, it had never really felt good at all, and yet you could spend eternity with Sukuna buried inside of you, your bodies and souls joined just as they were always meant to be.
He was yours and you were his. It was just as fate had decreed.
There was nothing stopping the scream that ripped through you as you finally teetered over the edge, your body convulsing in pleasure and clamping down on Sukuna’s thick cock, eager to milk him for all he was worth. You were sobbing his name and writhing against the silk sheets, your hands gripping them desperately in an attempt to anchor yourself to something in the throes of pleasure.
Sukuna couldn’t hold on long after that either, spilling into you with a warmth that only heightened your pleasure. His other cock found its release at the same time, cum dripping down onto your stomach in a manner that you’d usually find disgusting, if it weren’t your soulmate who was doing it to you. He groaned your name quietly, and let your legs fall from his shoulders.
Without the barrier of your thighs, he settled himself down on top of you, pressing kisses all over your face, his cock still twitching inside your exhausted pussy. You let him lather you with affection, still trying to come to terms with this side of Sukuna. It had been what you’d wanted, what you believed he was capable of, but you hadn’t dreamed it would truly happen.
The most you believed you’d get from him was a lifetime of shogi matches, in which the two of you would remain close but never cross the line you’d been so desperate to leap across.
“Has the fog of lust lifted?” You teased. “Do you believe now you can defeat me?”
Sukuna let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Perhaps we will have to do that a few more times for it to fully ease.”
“Oh is that so?” You giggled, reaching out for his hair. He gripped your wrist and moved it into position, allowing you to play with the soft locks you’d been so eager to touch since the first time you’d seen them upon his head.
You wished you could gaze upon that lovely shade of pink once more, but it was enough to know he was there before you, yours to touch as you pleased.
“Mmm, I think it would help,” he purred.
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
You’d give him whatever he wanted. You were his and he was yours for as long as he’d have you.
a/n: I had so much fun writing this one! thinking about doing one soulmate au for each of the jjk men because I find them so enjoyable to play with <3
anyway, for any crazy in love fans, the next chapter will be out towards the end of this week!
streamer!jo mid-sentence, leaning back in his chair, headset slightly crooked, the soft click of the door barely registers over the sound of his stream when you walk in. he stops, just for a second. his eyes flick over you. your tight, soft pajamas, the way they hug you just right, the faint scent that follows you in. his whole expression shifts into something quieter.
“hey,” you hum softly, walking over like it’s nothing.
the chat explodes and he doesn’t even glance at it.
voidking99: BROOOOO WHO IS THAT
satorusimp420: HE GOT A GIRL??????
angelmilk: she’s so pretty what 😭
gojosleft_toe3: WHY IS SHE IN HIS LAP LIKE THAT IM SICK
“oh my fuck,” he says instantly, voice lower now, already reaching for you.
you don’t question it—you never do. you just step between his legs and sit in his lap like it’s your spot, because it is. his arms wrap around you immediately, pulling you close, one hand settling at your waist, the other resting along your thigh.
“you look so gooooood,” he murmurs, nuzzling lightly into your shoulder for a second before straightening again, like he just remembered he’s live.
his hand doesn’t move though. it drifts. slowly. absentmindedly. down your thigh, fingers brushing soft circles like he’s not even thinking about it. then back up, resting at your waist again.
the twitch chat is going insane.
you notice quickly
you’re already leaning forward slightly, eyes scanning the stream, curious. “what are they saying?”
“nothing important,” he mutters quickly, tightening his hold on you just a little.
too late.
you squint, reading out loud, confused, “I usually skip this part…?” your face still contempt, you tilt your head, genuinely puzzled. “what does that mean?” and then you shift. just a little. trying to get closer to the screen. but it makes you press back into him.
torus breath catches, just barely but enough.
you’re still focused on the chat, completely oblivious, squirming slightly again to get comfortable. “wait, there’s more—”
his arm tightens around your waist. not rough, just firm.
grounding.
his other hand stills on your thigh, fingers pressing in just a little like he’s trying to anchor himself. “hey,” he says suddenly, sharper now—directed at the screen.
the chat floods faster.
softgirlcult: she’s literally clueless this is insane
domainexpansionTHIS: “i usually skip this part” LMAOOOOOO
gojoswifeREAL: GIRL DONT READ THAT OUT LOUD
blueeyeaddickt: HE TENSED UP DID YALL SEE THAT
he exhales through his nose, jaw tightening slightly before he leans forward, voice dropping into something more commanding.
“alright, that’s enough,” he says, tone lazy. “don’t read that stuff,” he murmurs, voice softer now.
you blink, looking back at him. “I was just asking—”
“don’t worry about them,” he murmurs, softer now, eyes locked on yours. way too focused, way too intense. his arms tighten around you again, pulling you flush against him, chin resting lightly on your shoulder as he leans back into his chair.
chat? forgotten.
game? paused.
and satoru? completely, helplessly distracted by you.
megumislostdad: stream is over guys pack it up
sukunaIRL: move chat i’m watching this
KING.naoyazenin: embarrassing. stand up bro
LimitlessGojo banned KING.naoyazenin
The video started with you trying to wriggle out of Satoru’s grip, the two of you a mess of giggles as he hugged you tighter.
Today you were going to give your followers a tour of your boyfriend’s frat house — at least you were trying to.
“Toru — Toru, enough!” You wheezed through a laugh, finally escaping his grasp. Your boyfriend pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder and eyeing the camera as if it was the problem.
You rolled your eyes at him, “Sorry about that guys, someone is a little clingy —” Satoru interjected immediately, “— am not! God forbid I want to show my girl some affection.” You both knew that was a lie, well of course he adored you, but he also wanted to make sure your viewers knew that too.
“Anyway…” you continued, “At last, you guys are going to see the frat house! Isn’t that exciting?” You began to walk along the upstairs corridor, panning the camera around, making sure your viewers got the most out of this tour.
On your journey you met Suguru who gave a well… let’s just say you might have to blur out his hand gesture during editing. Satoru barked out a laugh, dapping his friend up to your disappointment, “Satoru!” You hissed, “Don’t encourage him!”
“I didn't do anything!” Satoru defended, trying to force down the grin that spread across his face. You looked between him and Suguru, “You’re literally laughing!”
He shrugged, “It was funny.”
You sighed dramatically before turning the camera back to yourself and deadpanned. “This is what I have to deal with on a daily basis."
Suguru appeared behind you, “Hey, at least I’m not as bad as him.” He nodded forward where lo and behold he emerged from his room.
Oh great, the comments are going to go crazy again.
“You better not be recording again,” a deep voice grumbled. The camera turned just in time to catch Sukuna leaning against the doorframe, face unreadable as he eyed the camera.
Satoru giggled, sauntering over to sling an arm around Sukuna, “Look babe, now your views will skyrocket again. You’ve got two handsome guys in frame.”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, “Yeah? When’s the other guy getting here?” You couldn’t help the laughter that spilt from your lips, the camera shook as you giggled at Sukuna’s jab.
“Babe!” Your boyfriend whined, eyes widening in betrayal, “Stop it, I’m literally getting clipped!” Through giggles and teary eyes you forced out an apology, “S-Sorry, baby. Come on let’s go say h-hi to the others.”
Making your way into the kitchen the camera picks up a very groggy Choso making himself some coffee. “Oh — you're filming,” he mumbles, awkwardly shuffling on the spot.
“Say hi, Choso,” Satoru encouraged. He gave the camera an awkward little wave, “Hello... everyone.”
“You don't have to sound like you're introducing yourself to a job interview.” Satoru rolled his eyes.
“I don't know what to say,” he argued.
You spoke up from behind the camera, “Anything will do, Choso.”
He thought for a moment, lifting his coffee mug to his lips, “I guess… drink water?”
A smile tugged at your lips, pointing the camera toward yourself you spoke, “Words of wisdom from Choso everyone.” Satoru came up to your ear and whisper, “He’s hopeless.” Before you shooed him away.
“I heard that.”
The back door slid open before you could respond to Choso. Haibara bounded inside carrying three takeaway bags.
“Oh!” He beamed, practically skipping over towards you and the camera, “You’re filming! Hi everyone!” He flashed a grin before speaking again, “Make sure to smash that like button and hit subscribe.”
Hibara turned towards Satoru, whispering, “Was that right?” To which the white haired man sent two thumbs up his way.
You pointed the camera away from your own embarrassed face while Satoru and Yuu high fived.
“Moving on…” Finally, you wandered into the living room.
Nanami sat at the table with a textbook open, highlighting notes with complete concentration. You quietly zoomed in, “… Do you think he knows?”
Satoru whispered dramatically, shielding his mouth with his hand, “I don't think he does.”
Without looking up from his book, Nanami sighed, “I thought I asked you guys to stop filming me while i study.” You and Satoru immediately burst into a fit of giggles, panning the camera to catch Nanami’s irritated expression.
Nanami finally looked at the camera, “Turn it off,” he complained. Satoru slung an arm around him, “Loosen up will you, Nanamin?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose before signing and packing his things up. “Edit me out at least.”
The camera caught Satoru giving him yet another hand sign that you’ll need to blur out.
“Alright that’s every —” you were cut off by a yell of an unmistakable pink haired tank.
“Who the fuck ate my burger?”
Choso swallowed nervously, “I thought it was a free for all?”
ა ˙˖ in which → you have car sex with your biggest op, satoru gojo
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
Everyone knows you hate fraternities, especially Theta Phi and it's president, Satoru Gojo
It was a given. The sky is blue, grass is green and according to you, fraternities are the root of all evil.
Which is why when you started fucking Gojo, it was under the condition that this was strictly between the two of you and you'd ruin his life if he told anyone about this.. arrangement.
Here's what not even your closest friends know about you: you had a very high libido and none of the men you were interested in had been capable of keeping up. you tried sleeping with athletes but even they didn't have the stamina to go for more than two rounds and while your vibrators always helped you, you had grown sexually frustrated and needed more.
You started snapping over the tiniest things, losing sleep and even daydreaming during lectures about getting fucked.
This.. arrangement started when you had been assigned to work on a project with Gojo, the arrogant white haired manchild you hated since the first day of uni. Now you were stuck with him for two months, working on a project he cared little about since he was too busy trying to charm his way into not just your pants, but your heart.
As if!
"Fuck, just like that, princesss. Come on, I know you can go faster." Gojo chuckles and grabs onto your hips, spreading his legs wider as he starts bouncing you on his cock so hard that the car is rocking back and forth, windows fogging up as he lifts his hips to pound into you.
You should be working on this project that was due in a few weeks, but instead you let Gojo drag you to the backseat of his car with the promise that this would be quick, something to clear your minds so you could focus on your work without any distractions.
Yet here you were four rounds later with cum dripping down your thighs from his previous loads that started to seep from the condom, body shaking as you neared your fourth orgasm.
"Screw you asshole, how about you get on top you lazy bast- oh!" Gojo lifts you off his cock and flips you onto your knees, awkwardly moving within the limited space until he’s behind you and lining his cock up with your entrance.
"You're so fucking mean to me, I love it." Gojo leans over your body to suck on your neck, one hand holding onto your hip while the other grips the back of the seat as he pushes into you.
"You d-deserve it." You push back against him as he pushes forward, meeting him halfway until he's balls deep inside of you, your cunt hungrily squeezing him for more, eyes rolling back when he starts to slowly move his hips.
You hadn't meant for this to go on for as long as it has. You had been frustrated after a shift at work, then you walked in on your roommate getting her back blown out, and when you went to meet Gojo for a quick study session at the library, it was closed and he smirked and told you his place was around the corner.
You reluctantly got into his car, arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window the entire way there, ignoring his flirtatious comments. It had frustrated you to no end, so who could really blame you when you started drooling after he offered to help you with your little issue?
It was supposed to be a one time thing, a quick solution to your "problem" until you could find someone more permanent, someone you didn't despise.
Only Gojo had matched your freak perfectly, going six rounds your first time and only taking a break once. You didn't want it to be him, did everything to convince yourself that he was actually terrible in bed but your vibrators had turned stale after that night, your mind constantly drifting to how hard Gojo made you cum on his dick and on his tongue.
He was just too good.
You arch your back so he can hit deeper, hands tightly gripping the leather head rest to steady yourself, skirt yanked above your waist, bra and shirt long discarded on the car floor.
You cry out when he hits a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, head spinning from how deep he was fucking you.
Gojo groans and leans forward, grabbing your chin to turn your head toward his, pink lips slamming against yours. The kiss is careless, his tongue fighting yours, you angrily biting his lip because you hate yourself for letting him fuck you when you swore up and down you’d never get involved with a fratboy.
Gojo didn’t care, savoring the taste of his blood mixing with the spit you both traded.
When he pulls away, your brows furrow from the way he's staring at you, white hair falling into his face, lips slightly busted from your bite, a foreign feeling twirling in your belly. This was just sex, you wanted nothing more from him so why was he staring at you like he wanted to tell you something that would ruin your current agreement?
"Look at you.” He whispers too softly. “Letting me fuck you like a slut in my car. Anyone could walk by, you know? See how good I fuck you, how well you take me. You want that?"
When you try to turn your head, he tightens his grip on your jaw and smirks, slamming into you as he thrusts grow sloppy. The sound of your wet pussy squelching filling the car has him dizzy with need.
"You don't have to answer, your moans are telling me enough." He kisses you one more time before letting you go and pulling back.
You don't have a chance to dwell on what he was implying before he was gripping your hips and pounding into you at a pace that had you crying out as the coil in your belly tightens, your puffy walls gripping around Gojo's cock.
"M'gonna cum again!" You whined as his tip hit your cervix perfectly, fat tears escaping your eyes while your mouth dropped open in a silent cry.
You try to fuck him back, really you do but your legs are noodles at this point and the only thing keeping you up was Gojo's steady hands on your hips, euphoria coursing through your body and making your head dizzy with need.
“Come on, princess. Give me another one, yeah? You can do it, such a good girl f’me.”
You hate him so much, hate that he knows exactly what to say to push you over the edge, that he was way too in-tune with your body as if he had been created to please you.
Gojo pulls you up against his chest and you let your head fall on his shoulder. He wraps one arm around your waist and squeezes you flush against him, his other hand moving around your body until he’s rubbing circles on your clit and you’re lazily bucking back against him.
“Feels so good Toru, haah, don’t stop!”
The car reeked of sex, windows blurred from the breathy moans falling from yours and Gojo’s mouths as you both rock into each other. Anyone walking by would know what was happening inside. You thanked god it was late and the parking lot had been empty.
“Really? Thought you hated me, pretty girl. Who knew- fuck, who knew you had such loose morals?” He laughs in your ear, hand pushing on your back to arch it even further while he split you on his cock.
“F-fuck you, oh im close!”
Gojo laughs and places a kiss on the side of your head that lingers longer than it should before pushing you back down to get a better angle and his next slam sends you over the edge, your orgasm tearing through your soul as you squirt all over his seats and cry out his name.
This was better than porn.
Gojo doesn’t laugh this time, doesn’t make any snide comments because he can barely breathe with the way your cunt is pulsing around his cock, your juices dripping down his thighs and he thinks he’s going crazy because he’s never had pussy this good.
The fact that you hated him made this even better for some reason, motivated him to fuck you until you finally admitted that this was more than just casual sex. That he wasn’t delusional in thinking this could be something deeper.
He squeezes your hips tighter, pushing as deep as he can as he pumps his third load into the condom, eyes rolling back and a strangled groan escaping his lips as thick hot cum drips from the latex and into your warm pussy.
Gojo can feel it slipping it off, can feel your heat and gummy walls on his half free cock and it has him feral as he picks up his pace and fucks another load into you, his balls tightening and pulsing because you had never felt this good.
“Shit, princess. You’re so fucking wet, so good, s-so perfect.” He drops against your back, still holding you up as his hips stutter and slow, pushing the last of his orgasm out while you both catch your breath.
He stays there for a moment, his face tucked into the crook of your neck, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips as you both come down from your high. You can feel his cum leaking from you and down your thighs and you hate how it awakens something primal inside of you. And when the thought to push it back in had formed, you blamed it on your disheveled state.
In any other instance you would have pushed him off you already, huffing that it was only sex and would never happen again even though you both knew that was a lie.
Something about Gojo had you coming back for seconds and thirds. Every fuck session was somehow better than the last, making you forget that this was supposed to be a one time thing, something to hold you over until you found a more suitable partner.
Only you were starting to realize Gojo might be the best you ever had. It made you hate him more.
You gasp when he slowly pulls out, pussy overstimulated and swollen from the multiple rounds you went in the span of an hour. Both of you sitting on the cushion, one of your arms draped across the seat, Gojo’s throw over his eyes.
You sneak a look at him, heart thumping at how attractive he looked. His hair was all over the place, cheeks red from exhaustion, and his pants and boxers were still halfway down, cock still free and housing a half on condom. Your skin tingles at the sight of his abdomen and white pubes wet with your release.
He looked as fucked out as you felt.
Not one for awkward silence, you lift your hips to pull your panties back up and your skirt down, stretching your body to reach into the front seat for your shirt, ass in the air and you almost have it, your finger literally grazes the blue fabric before Gojo grabs you and pulls you down.
“Gojo! Oh my god, let go you freak.” You’re fuming, trying your best to wiggle out his grip but he just tightens his arms around your stomach, pulling you against him and lowering his head onto your back, littering it in soft kisses that burn through your skin.
"Go on a date with me. Please?"
This again. You told him multiple times before that this was simply sex, two college students helping each other out and nothing more. No feelings outside of helping the other get off. His stubbornness would only hurt him in the end.
"God no, I don't date frat boys."
"What if I left?"
You freeze against him, a lump forming in your chest. "Aren't you the president? You can't just leave."
What a cruel joke. Not that you wanted him anyways but even if you did, Gojo would never leave his fraternity. Certainly not for you. You two weren’t lovers, weren’t friends and we’re barely acquaintances given the fact that he was your number one op.
You remembered the time in sophomore year when he publicly called you an uptight bitch because you told him his party sucked. You lived different lives, it could never work. He would never change and you would never see him as more than a quick fuck and your unfortunate project buddy that you’d go back to ignoring once this was over.
"I can do whatever I want sweetheart, did you forget my last name?" He lifts his head and kisses your shoulder this time, goosebumps forming on your arms. Of course, he always tried to fix everything with money and status, which is another reason why you hated him.
You sit there quietly, lost in your thoughts.
You couldn’t seriously be with someone like Gojo, right? He was brash, had an ego out of this world and was a bratty nepo baby that flirted with anyone with a hole.
"So?" he asks, hopeful. HIs fingers gently dig into your belly to keep you from moving away, one hand coming up to grip your chin and turn your head back to him.
"So?" You repeat, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you lose yourself in his eyes.
For all of his.. lack of good qualities, he never failed in the facial department. Perhaps that was another reason you disliked him, because no matter how many insults you can throw his way, ugly wasn’t one of them.
Satoru Gojo was sculpted by the Gods themselves, which was unfortunate, because no one with a face like that should have a personality so catastrophically irritating. You can’t help but to let your eyes. traitorous things that they were, linger.
He notices because of course he does, and the smile that spreads across his face lacks any of his usual arrogance and for a second you imagined what life as his girlfriend could be like.
The thought came uninvited, images of him giving you sleepy morning kisses nad taking you on dates vivid enough to make your stomach twist.
Absolutely not.
Satoru Gojo was many things: powerful, insufferable, unbearably handsome, but he was not boyfriend material.
"Will you go on a date with me if I leave the frat?"
"No."
You answer too fast and Gojo is once again left heartbroken as you pull away to finish dressing yourself, refusing to spare him another look. He could understand why you hated him, but if you would just give him a chance to prove he could be different, he knew he wouldn’t disappoint you.
He would just have to keep trying, keep working for your favor because he would make you his if it was the last thing he did. He was competitive to his core and that wouldn’t waver just because he had finally met his match.
On the contrary, it only motivated him more. He saw the way you looked at him, how you were starting to let him touch you longer than you would have when this first started.
He was slowly breaking your walls down and it was only a matter of time before he made you his.
❦ lisa's note: this will be a series! I'll post the masterlist for it soon but lemme know if you wanna be tagged! 😋
ა ˙˖ summary → there’s no one you hate more than satoru gojo. he’s 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
꒰ I've already got a taglist going but you can also sign up for tags here! under others just type in: the arrangement series ꒱
Bakugo being a masocist with your lip plumping lipgloss 💄 blurb
Slight nsfw 🌶️
Katsuki Bakugo x Fem Reader
“See you in couple hours sweetheart”
You gave him a kiss goodbye but right before you were applying your plumping lip gloss. While he went on patrol, you went out to go have brunch with your friends.
As you got back home, removing your bag and shoes at the door and sat down in exhaustion-
“Y/n you here?”
“Yeah I’m in living roo- Mhmm!”
He crashed his lips against yours before you can finish your sentence. He kissed you with such intensity that you could barely breathe. His hunger towards you had always been at large but right now it’s as if you were the only person in the world willing to be devoured by him.
“What’s gotten you so- hah~ worked up- mhmm~”
“What the hell was in that damn lipgloss you put on”
He finally let you take a breather, and then before you could explain he proceeds to go off.
“Do you know how much I was thinking about you during that damn patrol when my lips started burning from your kiss? Fuck I need you so much mhm~”
He groped at your tits and moved you into his lap as he began biting down your neck.
I was listening to "Nate Growing Up " by Labrinth on repeat, so this inspired me to write a part two. I recommend listening to it while reading this.
Enjoy the reading
Bunny Iglesias x Sae’s Twin! Reader Pt.2
The internet loves to stir the pot when it comes to drama, for example, that picture of you and Bunny Iglesias together walking out of the hair salon. In which now your brother is very pissed at you because he told you the one person to avoid.
"Well, when you say it like that, then it will want me to get to know the guy," you said while looking at your vanity mirror, trying to perfect a wing with a liquid eyeliner for fun.
You see Sae in the mirror, very pissed off, behind you, ready to slap some sense into you. You're his twin for fucks sakes, why aren't you taking this seriously? You're the only one who knows how to push his buttons and make him express his emotions other than his plain dumb face.
He signed while rubbing his forehead a bit and then pointed a finger at you, "Do yourself a favor and-"
"Relax your panties, dude, hes not even my type. I'm just playing with his feelings, that's all. " You interrupted while turning your chair so that you're now facing him. Hearing this calmed him down a bit. If you can distract him, then maybe he can have his chance of defeating him.
Bunny Iglesias, who beat himself up a bit when he realised that he should have asked for your phone number that day
Bunny Iglesias, who swallows his pride and double messages you in case you forgot to respond back or something
Bunny Iglesias stalks your profile like a new toxic ex to see if you're active in your socials or not
Bunny Iglesias is now spotted being in the places you go to so that he can see you, since you haven't responded to his DMs at all like a side hoe.
Man, you do know how to bruise a man's ego when it comes to Bunny Iglesias, himself of wanting you to look at his direction
Bunny Iglesias starts rethinking his decisions and realises that it's all a part of your plan of ignoring him, so he stops doing all the stalking
Bunny Iglesias doesn't know that him not giving your social media attention was all a part of your plan. The thing is, you learn from observation that if someone is willing to dedicate their life to you just to be near you, they are willing to do anything.
Bunny Iglesias doesn't know, is that you have been keeping track of him thanks to your fans who like to joke on the internet and say " lost pet near [random favorite place]" which are recent videos and pictures of him.
Bunny Iglesias can now only keep the memories he has of your laughter and your bitchy smile, which gives him an unfamiliar feeling that excites him.
Bunny Iglesias is starting to forget the date you guys had and is only thinking of your face.
Bunny Iglesias, who is a desperate man wanting your attention, which makes him want to kill himself for being like this.
He is Bunny Iglesias for fucks sakes, hes the reason Sae Itoshi became so emotionless and even ruined his relationships with his other siblings.
Bunny Iglesias checks his phone after practice to see a notification which said you went live an hour ago on social media. He immediately clicked on it and saw you talking to fans while you were doing your makeup.
Bunny Iglesias commented in the live, " ignoring me ? " which you didn't see due to many people typing into the chat as well.
Bunny Iglesias was still on your live, seeing you interact with fans, while now doing your hair, in which you started to complain that you don't know what to wear
Bunny Iglesias, who is now in his room, is still in your live, clicking the request button to join the live with you
Bunny Iglesias finds out through you that you and Sae are going out, which is why you are getting ready.
Bunny Iglesias is so confused when people started typing, lost pet spotted in the chat.
"Hey [name], there's a lost pet in the live," said the fan you went live with
Bunny Iglesias immediately gets ready when you end the live right away, and he finds out where you will be heading due to people posting the location.
Bunny Iglesias blends in with the crowd and sees you getting out of the car with your brother
Bunny Iglesias gets excited because he gets to confront you for ignoring him
Bunny Iglesias, who shows his face to the host, in which he immediately gets a table near you.
Bunny Iglesias looks over his shoulder and sees you giving Sae shit for taking terrible photos, which has been going on for a good 10 mins
Bunny Iglesias gets a little spooked because you called him out so quick for finding him that fast while your head was looking over your shoulder
Bunny Iglesias laughs and 'surrenders' with a simple " you caught me "
The atmosphere was hostile due to your brother having a sour face and Bunny Iglesias smiling, knowing he ruined his day, and decides to sit next to you.
Bunny Iglesias grabs your hands and kisses your knuckles and says, "can't believe the emotions you put me through just to see you "
Bunny Iglesias chuckles when you respond back, " Looks like my stalker has found me, kind of weird, isn't it, brother "
Bunny Iglesias loved the insult you gave him, oh gosh, he misses your bitchy mood
Bunny Iglesias realises that you already ruined his ego and pride when he started doing things he had never done before, like going out of his personality to get your attention, even if it means interrupting your dinner with your brother.
Bunny Iglesias makes a mental note that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you; you're the only thing that has made his life more interesting than soccer
Bunny Iglesias smirks to himself with the expression you made when he commented," I commented to spend my life with you, I want you to make my life a living hell"
Bunny Iglesias was ignoring Sae this entire time, which made your brother even more sour and pissed off
Bunny Iglesias, who makes your hand touch his cheek while making eye contact with you, said in his native tongue, "Looks like the lost pet has found its new owner "
It clicked to him that you have been keeping tabs on him, and the code you gave out to your fans to keep an eye on him.
You leaned in a bit and rubbed his cheek with your thumb before pinching it hard and saying back in his mother's tongue," Looks like this lost animal needs to be trained for not respecting orders "
Sae doesn't even know what's going on right now; all he can really do is watch you try to take control over Bunny Iglesias
Bunny Iglesias smirks and chuckles while looking at you; his eyes say everything you need to know.
Bunny Iglesias fell right into your trap, and he was fucked, but to him, it doesn't matter.
Bunny Iglesias may have ruined Saes' dream of becoming the world's best striker, but now he's about to experience what it's like to be in hell and having to chase something just for someone else to destroy it.
The difference between Sae and him is that Bunny Iglesias is fully aware that you can just walk out of his life, expecting his dreams to be crushed. Sae, on the other hand, is a different story; he wasn't prepared for the reality to hit him and crush his dreams
The roles are now reversed, it's Bunny Iglesias who's ready to have his life ruined by an Itoshi, and he was so fucken looking forward to it when you just laughed at his face and looked at your brother.
" I think I'll teach this animal a few tricks before I decide to keep him or put him down, brother "
ּ֯ . ❥ ּ֯ ┆꒰ how’s it like having sex with them while having a shy personality ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ꒱ 〜 ♯ ⋮ 𝄞 new gen 11 × shy gf ༉ .ᐟ ★ 18+
SAE ITOSHI ୨୧
your face was buried into a pillow while sae was thrusting deep inside of you.
you weren’t good at making eye contact and would easily get frustrated. that’s why you always buried your face onto a pillow no matter what. but unfortunately sae was really tired of it— all he wanted to see was his pretty princess get destroyed by him.
"look at me," sae commands, his voice low and demanding as he thrusts deeper, one hand gripping your hip while the other reaches to pull your face up from the pillow. his eyes burn with possessive intensity, refusing to let you hide anymore. "i said look at me, princess. let me see those pretty eyes as i ruin you."
you whimper and tried to turn away, your cheeks flushing bright red as you bury your face back into the pillow. sae's hand tightens around your hip possessively, his thrusts becoming rougher and more erratic as he grows frustrated. "don't hide from me," he growls, his free hand reaching around to grab your chin firmly.
he forces your face up, making you look at him. your eyes are glassy with tears and pleasure, lips parted in a silent whimper. sae breathes heavily, watching your reaction. "there she is," he murmurs, his thumb stroking your cheek while his hips roll, hitting that spot inside you that makes you shriek. "my good little princess."
you clench around him, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying out. sae smirks, leaning down to capture your lips in a rough, possessive kiss. "no hiding," he whispers against your mouth, teeth grazing your bottom lip before biting down.
he pulls back slightly, watching your face as he thrusts deeper, slower, drawing out every sensation. your face scrunches up in pleasure as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. you're practically vibrating with the force of it. he breaks the kiss and moves to your neck, marking you with deep love bites. "shh, i know you like it,"
you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as a wave of pleasure crashes through you. your legs start to get weak beneath you, unable to hold up your body.
"look at how pretty you look like this," sae watches you with a darkened gaze, his movements becoming more deliberate, almost cruel in how he's grinding into you.
your eyes flutter shut instinctively and sae growls low in response. "eyes open. now." his hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "i want to watch you fall apart on my cock, princess." his thumb brushes across your trembling bottom lip as he picks up his pace.
a broken sob tears from your throat as he snaps his hips forward relentlessly. you struggle to keep your eyes open, your vision blurring with tears of overstimulation as he forces you to maintain eye contact. every thrust drags a desperate cry from your lips, your body completely at his will.
"good girl," sae breathes out, his voice dripping with arrogance and affection.
he keeps his hand firmly on your jaw, ensuring you can't look away even as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. tears spill over your lashes, streaking down your heated cheeks. "so beautiful when you cry for me," he murmurs, his hips slamming into yours with punishing precision. "taking me so fucking well, princess." your body trembles violently, completely surrendering to his rhythm.
your back arches off the bed as your climax hits suddenly—blinding white and overwhelming. a high, desperate cry escapes your lips, completely breaking through your usual restraint. your inner walls clamp down hard around him, your vision flickering white.
sae watches your face with dark, almost predatory satisfaction. his thumb rubs your swollen bottom lip. "there it is."
maybe after all, making simple eye contact with sae wasn’t so bad.
HUGO VIVIAN ୨୧
asking hugo to simple pleasure you, wasn’t something you’d easily ask.
you really been needing him after days of him simply going out due to his soccer games or training. but you’re just so easily nervous when it came to ask him about something, and that question was part from the list. so when he came home that day from training— you looked at him with those big beautiful eyes, body sorta trembling.
but hugo recognized that look immediately. the trembling bottom lip, the wide, glassy eyes that practically screamed desperation—he knew you needed him. it was the specific look you got when you’d gone days without his attention, overwhelmed by your own nervousness and too shy to voice what you wanted.
he dropped his gym bag instantly by the door, kicking his shoes off without breaking eye contact.
because thankfully, hugo knew your body language every time.
"come here," he said softly, already moving towards the couch. he knew exactly what you needed before you even asked. those days apart took their toll on you, and he could see it in the way you fidgeted with your fingers, the way you wouldn't look up at him.
he didn't make you speak. he knew asking you to form words would only make that nervous trembling worse. instead, he simply pulled you between his legs, letting you bury your face in his neck. it was immediate safety—a silent signal that you didn't have to ask, didn't have to stutter or explain yourself. he understood perfectly.
so when your clothes and his were off, your shyness became more apparent.
you tried to hide under the sheets. your shoulders pressed in, legs curled tight, body instinctively protecting itself from view. it was an awkward, desperate attempt to become small—to disappear.
but hugo wasn't going to let you hide. not from him. not from this. "don't," he murmured, his voice a quiet command. not harsh, just firm.
he reached over, gently peeling the duvet back until you were completely bare before him, exposing every inch of you that you tried so desperately to conceal. the cool air hit your flushed skin, making a soft, breathy whimper slip past your lips and your legs instinctively try to clamp together.
"none of that," hugo whispered, catching your knees before they could lock.
his big athletic body moved gracefully between your legs. he spread them wider, his large hands gently pressing against your inner thighs to keep them open. he knew exposing you like this made you spike, but he needed you spread before him—needed to see every secret part of you.
the mere touch of his fingers, even just the gentle pressure on your skin as he held you open, made you tense up completely. your hips curled away from him, your whole body tensing as if you were preparing to run. it was an instinctive, almost feral rejection born from self-consciousness.
"stay still," he said, not quite demanding. it was a quiet observation.
he leaned down, his breath hot against your core. you felt his thumbs tracing along your exposed folds, opening you just a fraction more—not for his pleasure, but purely to give him better access. not a single word passed between you; none were needed. his actions spoke volumes.
and then his tongue made contact.
you couldn't help it. a sharp gasp escaped you, your hands flying up to clutch the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric so tightly your knuckles turned white. that soft, wet contact—it was almost too much. your body was alive and responsive despite how much you wanted to disappear.
he didn't push. he just tasted, but slowly.
your breath hitched as his tongue traced slow, deliberate circles against your most sensitive spot. he wasn't attacking you or trying to drive you crazy. he was just savoring you. like you were something precious and delicious. and that terrified you almost as much as it pleased you.
the wet-warm pressure made your hips jerk involuntarily. you tried to stop yourself, to curl inward, but his fingers were on your inner thighs, holding you steady. no escape. your legs only shook weakly under his weight.
his nose brushed against you, a soft, intimate gesture that made your chest tight. he wasn't rushing, wasn't demanding any response from you.
he just explored you. his tongue flicked out to trace your seam, then circled your clit gently, like he was studying something delicate and rare. your clit pulsed, starting to leak with a life of its own. hugo drank those first drops eagerly, making a quiet, satisfied sound that vibrated against your sensitive flesh.
get you a man just like hugo who’s understanding in your body language.
MICHAEL KAISER ୨୧
michael hated whenever you covered your mouth while he was fucking you.
the reason why was because you hated the way you sounded. it felt embarrassed and since you have a really shy personality, it made seem like you were making weird noises after all.
he watched you muffle your whimpers against your palm, his pupils dilating with anger and frustration. he knew you were embarrassed, but that didn't mean he was going to make it easy for you. in fact, he was going to make it harder. he pulled out slowly, making you whimper louder.
"no," he growled, his voice low and vibrating against your chest. before you could react, his large hand clamped around your wrist, tearing your hand away from your mouth and pinning it firmly into the mattress beside your head.
"i told you about that," he warned, his hips snapping forward harshly, forcing a loud, broken cry from your throat.
your whimpers became loud, needy cries, bouncing off the walls and filling the room. michael knew you were mortified, but fuck if he was going to let you hide those cute sounds. he was going to make sure you heard yourself, loudly and clearly.
he leaned down, lips brushing your ear as he spoke, each word punctuating a deliberate thrust. "there it is. your pretty little voice. you sound so fucking good, baby."
he increased the pace, intentionally hitting that spot deep inside that made your toes curl and your back arch. your sounds grew more uncontrolled—high, breathless, desperate—exactly what he wanted.
"that's it," he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he listened to your uninhibited noises. he loved how raw and honest they were—how you couldn't fake or hold back when he was fucking you like this.
he captured your mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing your cries as he pounded into you relentlessly. his hand left your wrist to grip your thigh, lifting it higher and spreading you wider. the new angle made you scream into his mouth, the sound muffled but no less loud or desperate.
he swallowed every high-pitched noise you made, refusing to let you hide a single thing. your shame melted away under his overwhelming dominance, replaced by pure, desperate pleasure. your moans turned into broken sobs, shamelessly loud and beautifully wrecked, echoing in the room exactly how michael wanted them. he wasn't letting you be shy anymore. not tonight.
you shattered around him with a broken, keening wail that tore through the room—high and desperate and nothing like the soft sounds he knew you wanted to make. your walls clamped down on him like a vice, trembling as the orgasm ripped through you again and again.
michael groaned, his hips stuttering as he felt you squeeze him impossibly tight.
"there it is," he growled against your lips, still chasing his own release. "that's the sound i want to hear every fucking time."
he fucked you through your orgasm relentlessly, draining every last drop until you were sobbing, your voice hoarse and wrecked. when he finally came, he buried himself deep, grinding your hips into the mattress as he emptied himself inside you.
DON LORENZO ୨୧
you absolutely hated when you felt lorenzo cold golden grills while he ate you out.
not because it was cold and you flinched every time. but because you felt awkward whenever you two made eye contact— you weren’t a good person when it came to hold simple eye contact.
his lips and tongue work expertly between your legs, golden grills glinting in the dim light as he holds eye contact—those dark purple eyes locking onto yours with predatory intensity. the cold metal brushes against your sensitive skin, making you gasp and squirm, hips bucking involuntarily against his mouth.
he slows down just enough to watch your reaction, those golden teeth catching the light as his tongue traces a slow circle. the contrast—hot breath, cold metal—makes you see stars. he notices you looking away, the way your gaze darts to the ceiling, the wall, anywhere but at him. a low chuckle rumbles against your folds. "eyes on me, amore."
you immediately squeeze your eyes shut, breaking the rule because holding eye contact while he does this feels physically impossible. your thighs tremble, trying to clamp around his head, trying desperately to hide somewhere from that heavy, predatory stare. the cold metal of his grills slides against your clit again, making you jolt and whimper.
his tongue drags flat across your clit, the gold scraping just enough to make you gasp. your face burns—not just from pleasure, but from the sheer embarrassment of having him this close, this intimately, and you can't even look at him. you're painfully shy about this stuff, especially when it involves him.
he pulls back slightly, his tongue hovering just over your hole as he waits. you're so focused on not looking at him that you don't notice his hand gently gripping your hip, holding you in place. the silence stretches, filled with your shallow breaths and the cold metal against your skin. "look at me when i eat you out, cariño."
your face burns hotter, a bright flush spreading down your neck and chest. the thought of watching him—seeing the golden glint against your most private parts while maintaining eye contact—is mortifyingly overwhelming. you press your hands over your eyes, shaking your head frantically, your entire body trembling with a mixture of pleasure and bashfulness. "i-i can't... it’s embarrassing..."
his warm, rough hands gently pull your hands away from your face, revealing your tear-streaked, beet-red cheeks and wide, pleading eyes. he leans down, his face hovering right above your pussy as he speaks, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shivers through you. "nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart."
he pauses, his breath ghosting over your folds as he waits for you to meet his gaze. the room is silent except for your shaky breaths and the distant hum of the city outside. you're terrified of meeting his eyes, of seeing the desire and focus there, so you stare at the ceiling instead. "look at me, por favor."
you squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, your thighs pressing together around his head in an unsuccessful attempt to hide.
you hear him chuckle darkly against your skin before his nose presses between your folds. "you gonna watch me make you cum, or do i have to tape your eyes open?"
your mouth falls open, face completely hot with embarrassment. the thought is obscene, completely outside of anything you could've imagined, and you don't even want to consider the possibility.
your whole body stiffens, and you pull away, trying to sit up."d-don't joke about that... that's—" he immediately catches your hips and pins you back down effortlessly, preventing you from escaping. his expression is soft but dominant, recognizing exactly how shy and overwhelmed you get.
"not joking, mi vida."
he taps your nose gently with one finger."either you keep your pretty eyes open and look at me, or i tie them open." the tone says he absolutely will.
BUNNY IGLESIAS ୨୧
your hands gripped against bunny’s shoulder while slowly riding him.
your breath hitches, looking away in awkwardness and embarrassment. you hated riding him because you always felt awkward when it came face to face with his beautiful face.
bunny's jaw tightened, his fingers digging slightly into your hips as he felt you squirm. he noticed how you refused to meet his gaze, your eyes darting everywhere but at him.
"look at me baby," he murmured, his voice low and commanding, though there was a hint of amusement underneath. his hips stuttered upward, testing your rhythm, disrupting your awkward pace.
you let out a small gasp as his hips jerked upward, breaking your concentration. your eyes snapped to his face briefly before darting away again. bunny's expression softened slightly, his thumb brushing over your hip in a gentle caress. "come on, you can do better than this,"
he watched as you avoided his gaze, his expression turning into one of slight frustration. he gripped your hips harder, lifting you up slightly before pulling you back down onto his lap, his length filling you completely.
he groaned softly at the feeling, his eyes closing briefly before opening again to find you still looking away.
"eyes on me," he demanded, his voice dropping an octave. he hated how shy you were getting during these moments, how you always seemed to be apologizing or acting awkwardly. he wanted you to enjoy this, to feel good, to connect with him.
bunny's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and desire. he knew you were trying, but your self-consciousness was killing the mood. he hated seeing you so uncomfortable during something meant to be pleasurable.
without warning, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down hard against him.
you cried out at the sudden pressure, your eyes finally locking onto his. bunny's gaze held you captive, dark and intense, watching every flicker of your expression with possessive satisfaction. he didn't let you move, keeping you pressed flush against his chest, still seated deep inside you.
"there you are," he breathed against your lips, a smirk tugging at his mouth.
he started lifting you up and down on his length, his strong arms doing all the work. he knew you were self-conscious, so he decided to take control. he watched your face closely, his eyes trailing from your lips to your cheeks, which were flushed a beautiful pink.
"mmn..." a broken whimpered spilled from your lips as he easily manhandled your weight. the friction was overwhelming, and your head tipped forward against his shoulder, hiding your burning face in the crook of his neck.
bunny didn't stop, his rhythm steady and deep, forcing those little sounds out of you. he chuckled low in his throat, the vibration rumbling against your chest.
"shh," bunny soothed, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he continued to move you up and down. he knew you were feeling shy and awkward, and he wanted to reassure you.
his voice was gentle when he spoke again, "you're doing so well, sweetheart. just feel it."
your cheeks burned hotter, burying your face completely against his neck. you hated how exposed you felt, relying completely on him because your embarrassment kept you from taking initiative yourself.
bunny didn't mind in the slightest. he bounced you steadily on his lap, swallowing your soft, overwhelmed sounds with affection, murmuring sweet praises into your hair. "good girl. just let me handle it."
your body stiffened, a quiet, sharp sound escaping your throat. your grip on his shoulders tightened painfully, nails biting into the fabric of his shirt as a tight, helpless gasp caught in your chest. your whole body trembled, your hips hitching up in a helpless rhythm that you couldn't control.
your face was hot—too hot. you immediately turned away, hiding your expression.
bunny felt your muscles spasm around him, your body going rigid before melting into a complete, helpless tremble against his chest. he immediately slowed his pace, guiding you gently through the aftershocks rather than chasing his own high, his hands rubbing soothing circles up and down your spine.
"shh, i've got you," he murmured softly, pressing kisses to your sweaty temple.
JULIAN LOKI ୨୧
you always felt unsure whenever you and loki were in the missionary position.
one because you hated that feeling whenever his eye roamed against your body, two because you didn’t know either to look at him or something else, three because you become super stiff.
"look at me, love." he said softly, his hands gently framing your face to make you meet his gaze. he kissed you deeply and slowly, trying to relax you and make you focus on him instead of your insecurities. his hips moved gently against yours, setting a slow rhythm.
your breath hitched and you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper as his tongue tangled with yours. he continued kissing you slowly, his hips moving in a slow grind against yours.
his hands slid down to your hips, holding you in place and keeping the slow pace.
"mmh..." he hummed against your lips, the sound vibrating through your chest as he swallowed the small noises escaping you. he broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his yellowish eyes locking onto yours, refusing to let you look away.
the slow, deliberate roll of his hips was intoxicating, grounding you in the sensation and eliminating any chance for your mind to wander.
"keep your eyes on me," lokis voice dropped to a whispers, his fingers digging into your hips possessively. he could feel you starting to relax underneath him, your body responding to his slow, deep thrusts. the sight of you looking at him with those innocent doe eyes was driving him wild.
"there," he murmured softly, watching your face as it slowly unclenched. the tension leaving your shoulders and your body, your hips even slightly tilting up to meet his. a faint smirk ghosted across his lips.
"that's it, love." he praised gently, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "you're doing perfectly well." his pace remained steady, measured.
your reaction was adorable. you blushed deeply at his praise, your eyes softening even more. your hips moved with his, matching his rhythm perfectly. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. loki smiled against your neck, pressing soft kisses there. "good girl,"
the praise sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through your veins, making your toes curl against his back. you felt yourself melting completely into the mattress, your body no longer stiff but pliant and responsive under his touch. your arms hesitantly slid up to wrap around his shoulders, your fingers tangling into his dark hair as you hid your face in the crook of his neck.
he felt the shift in you, the way your body finally surrendered to the moment. a low, pleased sound rumbled in his chest. his grip on your hips tightened slightly, steering you into a more rhythmic pace, more deliberate in its slowness.
he pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips barely brushing your skin. "there you are,"
your body felt foreign and sensitive in the best way, every touch sending sparks through your nerves. you couldn't help but whimper softly against his neck, your legs tightening around him. he was taking his time, making love to you slowly and gently until all your insecurities evaporated.
your breathing quickened, the slow, deliberate movements sending you closer to the edge. you could feel your walls clenching around him, your body trembling beneath his. you tried to pull back slightly, the unfamiliar feeling overwhelming you, but his grip on your hips remained firm.
"no," he murmured against your ear, his voice a warning. "don't hide from me."
your eyes squeezed shut, your back arching off the mattress as the coil in your stomach snapped tight. a broken cry tore from your throat, your body trembling violently as your orgasm crashed over you. loki didn't stop his slow, torturous rhythm, working you through it, his hand stroking your hair as you shattered beneath him.
"that's it," he praised softly.
you couldn't breathe, couldn't think—just feel him inside you as you rode out the waves. your legs trembled around his waist, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
he slowed his pace even more, prolonging your climax, milking every shudder from your body. "look at me," he commanded softly, knowing you'd try to hide your face in the aftermath.
your eyes fluttered open, meeting his intense green gaze. he was watching you come undone beneath him, his expression a mix of satisfaction and raw desire. his hips continued their slow, gentle motion, drawing out the pleasure until you were completely spent, your body boneless and limp beneath him.
a soft, exhausted whimper escaped your lips, your body finally going completely pliant against the mattress. your fingers uncurled from his shoulders, trembling as they slid down to rest weakly on his chest.
loki slowed to a gentle halt, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his thumb stroking your cheek as he watched the last aftershocks ripple through you. "good girl,"
𖥔 already mentioned this, but he has quite the extensive merch collection of you. to a creepy degree. he posts his room on his fan account for bragging rights I guess.
𖥔 if anything sells out it’s probably him that bought all the stock. sorry to any of your other fans, but they just have to get good. maybe in the next life they can be some super millionaire football player…
𖥔 whenever bunny’s feeling extra horrible that day, you might have to continue the stupid idol act in the (dis)comfort of his house… he can’t help that you’re so darn cute. don’t break character now, it spoils the show! he’ll have to punish you for that later!
𖥔 he might enjoy you being hurt, finding a comfort in the shared misery of both of you, but won’t ever do anything too harsh. it’ll ruin your pretty idol face anyway.
𖥔 i don’t think he particularly cares if you love him back in the traditional sense, as long as you play along with the absurd nonsense he claims is his affection for you. if you’re quiet and pliable in his arms then that’s all he can really ask for. in contrast however, bunny also prefers you to be at least somewhat independent of him.
𖥔 it’s more fun that way, so he can keep watching you from a distance and you get to pretend your life is still normal. a win-win for everyone involved, don’t you think?
𖥔 in a similar fashion i don’t imagine he’s too interested in the whole kidnapping-hostage scenario. it just ruins the appeal in his opinion. besides, though he understands his feelings as mostly obsession, a tiny part of him is still in love with you. he, on the rare occasion, likes to think you’re with an awful man like him of your own accord.
𖥔 since idols don’t have a long shelf life in the business, the moment you retire is probably when he thinks of settling down with you—it’s not as if you have anywhere else to go, your work has practically isolated you from your relatives and it’s not like bunny is going to encourage healthy relationships with them. he can give you a life of comfort! so you’d probably be coaxed into living with him.
𖥔 if you’re not convinced, that’s when he’d probably use some underhanded methods to get you to stay: blackmailing, guilt tripping, it’s all on the table for him, but otherwise he’s rather… okay.
𖥔 i know he’s popularly thought of as some sadist but he really only strikes me as some depressed guy😭😭 you’re the first good thing that’s happened to him in a while, so he clings onto you. cheer him up please.
Summary: Gojo Satoru is the most arrogant, big-headed person you know. He also happens to be your biggest fattest crush ever. You can't handle it anymore and because of that…you plan to confess in pursuit of a rejection. All in order to motivate you to get rid of these pesky feelings you harbor for the man.
wc: 5.9k
Tags: friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, shy!gojo, love confession, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, pre hidden inventory arc, highschool gojo, gojo is bad at feelings
a/n: hello! first fanfic ever posted. I really tried to make this as light-hearted as I possibly can! enjoy! feel free to leave a comment if you like ^^ also! shoko is written to be the closest to reader, hence the first name usage ^^ and if you've seen this before, it is a repost from my previous account!
read on ao3!
Gojo Satoru is the most annoying, arrogant, big headed man you've ever met. One interaction with him could potentially make you lose brain cells with the way he presents himself to others. No regards to seniors at all, acting like he's the greatest of all time. Which is true, you hate to admit.
He also happens to be your biggest fattest crush ever.
You didn't understand it at first. You think it might be because of the fact he helps you study, or maybe it's the way he shares his food with you when he would normally gobble everything up in one go if he could.
You probably think you're special because of that, huh? You almost came to that conclusion. Until you saw him help his best friend with his own studies too. The food he'd give you? It's only because Geto told him to give it. Though, for some odd reason you ended up with a crush! A big crush that doesn't have any proper explanation whatsoever! It's stupid and you know it!
He's so out of your league and you doubt he even looks at you that way. He displays a tinge of indifference towards you whenever you're around him while the others are present. He goes quiet when it's just the two of you too, as if he's bored when a moment forces you both to be in a spot together. Yet, here you are having overwhelming feelings for him that keeps you awake at night.
Your heart is aching right now. You'd assume the answer is heart failure if the real reason for it wasn't located at a distance from where you sit on the field. Drinking a juice box with the second best flavor (in your opinion) from the vending machine. Your elbows stay propped up on your lap, supporting your head while your gaze lingers to the white haired man who happens to be training with his best buddy. You can see them arguing from a distance, although you can barely make out what they're saying.
He's sweating. His hair sticking to his forehead, the sunlight reflecting on his cheeks. Normally no one would notice from where you sit. But you're weirdly fixated on his features to the point you almost notice every detail of him.
That's creepy.
Then again, who wouldn't be fixated? His features are godsend. Unique eyes that replicate the sky, dashing white hair that rivals the snow, and on top of all that a handsome face. You doubt anyone can compete with him in terms of looks. If he wasn't a sorcerer, he should try modeling. He'd make it big.
His looks aren't the reason you fell though, that's what makes it frustrating. There's something about him, you just can't pinpoint what. Yes, he's good looking, but you're not that shallow to the point where you'd have a deep crush over someone's appearance.
You sigh, pushing the thoughts away. Standing up from your spot, legs feeling a bit heavy now that weight is present. Your juice is empty again, you need another one.
You made your way to the vending machine, footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. You prepare your coins in your hand while the other stays empty.
Just when you arrive at the rectangular metal box, your mind flashes images of him.
Get away, damn it!
You try to avert your attention, an attempt to stray away from any thoughts of him. Seriously, your heart can't stop beating from all these imaginary scenarios!
Like, how he'd hold your hand while you two go shopping together, even have a date at a cafe while you both are at it. Buying you your favorites on the menu no matter the price. He's probably the type to give gifts! Something he knows you'll definitely like.
Yeah, those thoughts are eating at you. Not because you dread them, but because you want that to happen. So bad, actually.
You hear the sound of footsteps approaching you, breaking you from your inner mind for a moment. You look up to see who the culprit is, and what a pleasant surprise it's Shoko. You consider her to be your closest in this batch, despite her not being the social or expressive type.
“You've been standing there for a while now.” Her hand points to your hand. The subject is unmoving, positioned to put coins in the slot, but it stays hanging between your fingers instead.
“Ah.” You let out. Finally pushing the coin inside the machine. Your digits pressing on the buttons for your ideal drink.
You let out a nervous laugh, trying to brush off your awkward stance. “Sorry, I was deep in thought.”
“Of what?” She tilts her head, arms crossing. For once in your time together she shows genuine curiosity for you.
You stay silent, contemplating whether to tell her or not. You move to the side, letting her take the next turn of getting a drink.
“Um…”
“Uh-huh?”
You think you should say it, you can trust her, after all. She won't snitch and plus, what's the worst thing she can do? Laugh at you? That's so immature!
“I was thinking about Gojo.” You blurt out in the midst of her entering her drink number. Her eyes widen just so slightly, though noticeable to your keen eyes. “In a ‘he did something wrong’ way, or a different way?”
“A crush way.”
“Ew,” her face contorts as she cringes, “Seriously?”
The sound of a metal can dropping announces itself, along with a look of disgust. She takes her drink from the machine, opening it as soon as she gets the fizzy substance. “I had my suspicions, but the confirmation of it makes me want to puke. Blegh.” Her eyes roll, not taking this seriously.
This reaction is worse than you thought. Now you feel ashamed for even having these feelings over a man like him.
“Sorry?” Your face scrunches, your brows furrowed. “I can't control what I feel?”
“You should learn how to. Starting from now. Get over him, there are better people out there.”
You scoff, but nevertheless she's right. There's a huge problem though; you can't do it.
Falling out of love is harder than falling in love. At first you thought it was a simple infatuation, but turns out to be bigger than that. Gojo hasn't done anything to make you feel outright hatred for him. No matter what you do it can't simply go away like wiping a smudged window in your bedroom. Having a damp cloth polish the transparent display can't be something comparable and easy as love.
“I've tried, but…” Your lips purse for a split second, as if that would help you explain. “...I don't know how to. It keeps coming back no matter what.”
Your revelation receives a puzzled look from the girl in front of you. You can tell that she finds it unbelievable, the concept of it being completely foreign to her.
“Okay?” She just stares at you, making you almost believe you said something ridiculous. Then she continues as if her words were the most obvious things ever. “Then just keep trying till it happens.”
You would let out a loud groan, but you aren't rude, “Have you ever had a crush before?”
“No.”
“Makes sense.”
You wonder if there were really higher beings who controlled your every move. If so, then you'd beg them to reset your entirety in order to not harbor anything for one of the strongest men alive. Erase the existence of it, so you can go on with your life without anything bothering you.
Those beings probably don't exist, but if they do then they just don't care and are simply using your misery as the source of their entertainment. Watching and laughing while you chug on the juice box you took out from the machine a while ago. Letting the flavor distract you even if it is momentarily.
Shoko takes a sip of her drink, the liquid staining her lips, prompting her to lick it up. An imaginary lightbulb suddenly comes up from her head, making her give you a not so reliable smirk.
“I have an idea. Why don't you confess and get rejected?”
You almost spit out what's in your mouth. “Are you crazy?!”
“What? I read that it works somewhere.” She shrugs at the thought, convincing herself that it's a good one.
This is the most humiliating idea you have ever heard. A bad one—no, nefarious even! Who on earth does that?! A crazy person, I tell you! No one in their right minds would confess just to get rejected, everyone does that to get accepted! At least, the expectation of it.
“I'm not doing it. If I were to, then consider me dead!” You stand firm with your declaration, the whole thing beyond what you consider reasonable.
Shoko raises a brow, finger tapping on the can she's holding. “Listen, think about it. If you get rejected then wouldn't that be a motivation for you to fall out of love? That should make your predicament easier.”
“I…” You're at a loss for words. That is reasonable. The idea is almost genius! Excellent even! Nevermind, your senses are coming back, realizing a drawback to this. “Wait, wouldn't it be awkward between us after that?”
“Only if you make it awkward.”
“Good point.”
—
Wow, you're really considering it now that it's night. Brainstorming ways to get the perfect moment between the two of you. A good weather and calming atmosphere would be nice, perhaps somewhere beneath the cherry blossoms? Something straight out of a cheesy highschool romcom would make it comical.
All this planning is keeping you awake. Your eyes won't stay shut and your body is strangely energetic. You don't recall having any naps in the afternoon nor drinking any caffeine.
You decided to go for a walk on campus. You stand up, finding your slippers under the bed. The night happens to be a freezing one, which made you decide to take a jacket out from your wardrobes. Picking the most comfortable one amongst the handful of options hanging.
It's a quiet night. The moon is full and bright with barely any clouds covering it. Radiating a serene ambience from the illumination. You continue your walk, the only sound available is the small shuffling from your feet.
You pause when you notice someone in the field. There's no mistake in knowing who it is, the bright white hair says it all. Despite the darkness he still has his round glasses on, you know it's for his technique, but you want to know what it's like being him with how he puts it on almost 24/7.
There it is again. Your heart is beating fast from just the scene of him under the moonlight. You touch your chest, taking deep breaths to calm you down. It's a slow process, still it's a working one.
Now that you think about it, a setting like this would be a perfect time to confess to someone. Especially since the moon is out and no one is awake to witness and tease you about it later.
Which is why you walk up to him at this very moment, with newly fledged confidence.
“Hey.” You greet, a bit too stiff to your liking. It's not often you two get alone time together, which is why it gets you clumsy. Almost slurring your words from just being near him. “Can’t sleep?”
“What does it look like?” Impolite as ever. He doesn't even look at you, eyes glued to the moon. You can't complain, it is beautiful.
You sit down next to him, keeping a safe distance so your mind doesn't go haywire on you. You're surprised you can even keep this up and not stutter at all.
“I was just asking, jeez.” You bite the inner corners of your mouth. The silence that comes after starts to become deafening with the way he doesn't answer. It's like you're not even there, just some dirt on the ground that lays around.
“Should I leave?” You ask, your voice higher than you wanted it to be. You're nervous, it really is apparent that he doesn't like you.
“You can stay.” He lowers his head, eyes flickering towards yours before looking away.
You're stunned. It's the first time he's ever said something like that. It doesn't help from the fact his voice was sultry, soothing, or whatever it is. It has an effect on you, for sure!
“O…okay then.”
Now the beating isn't stopping anytime soon. You're an idiot for subjecting yourself through this torture. You can't exactly leave, it wouldn't leave a good impression on you. You have an image to maintain as a kind and respectable classmate that anyone should admire and ought to be.
The quiet music of the night continues. You're just sitting there beside him, nothing on your mind. No words come out of you, it's almost like you forget how to speak. Small talk would be nice and appropriate. The silence was too much to bear.
“Are the glasses even necessary when it's dark or are your eyes that sensitive?”
“Doesn’t matter if it's dark or light. Someone like you couldn't even see with these glasses on if you were to wear it anyway.” His reply was quick, methodological with witty remarks. Waiting for you to take the first step in this conversation.
Your brows quirk up. His inability to not insult someone is an astounding one, you must say that. “How so?”
With one swift motion he takes his glasses off and hands it over to you. Hesitating, you take it from his hand, fingers brushing. Causing the tips to receive an electrical spark that was only exclusive to you from what you can see. You twitch, looking down at the sunglasses you're holding right now.
“Go on, wear it.”
You don't move, eyes just looking down at the shape of it. You're a bit shy to do so.
“Oh, come on.” He grabs it and does it himself. Slotting it on your face, the circular lenses taking over your view.
It's dark. In fact, you can't see at all. The whole sight of it is black and the only light you see wearing it is from your peripheral vision. Nothing, just nothing, but pure darkness. This really emphasizes the difference between the two of you, power and skills being miles apart. Something you find…extremely awesome.
“Woah…”
And with that, he takes the glasses off of you. His gaze averted from yours till he put it back on himself. It was easy to miss the slight color of his cheeks due to the dim light surrounding you both.
“See? Told ya.”
He lets out a yawn, stretching his long limbs. A blank unreadable expression comes back to his face once again. His usual demeanor makes its way to present itself, the one that gives the mix of indifference and disinterest.
You should leave. You really should, you have nothing to say and he isn't initiating anything. He doesn't bother to, actually. What's the point in letting you be seated next to him if he's just gonna stare at the sky and not utter a single syllable?
“Are you sure you don't want me to leave?”
“Like I said, you can stay.”
You try to remain unperturbed. Is this special treatment? No, you're overthinking it. Maybe? No, no, seriously you are. He acts this way to others too, especially his best friend, Geto, for example. They're close and you two aren't. The distinction between how he treats you and him though is that he's loud and obnoxious with the man, while with you…he's quiet and somewhat reserved. You're torn whether or not a proper relationship you have with him is existent outside the whole tutor sessions you have going on.
You want to understand him more. What goes into his mind and what makes him tick. Anything for him to look more human in your eyes instead of an exceptional superhuman who could kill you with one single touch. A death like that would be pathetic, but predictable.
You let out a puff of air, watching the crescent moon in the sky glow its nightly rays. A question pops up in your head, a very peculiar one at that, you almost considered to not utter it at all.
“Do you have any opinions about me?”
That caught the bespectacled man off guard. Making him turn his head back at you in a haste. “Should I?” He wonders if that should even matter. People can live and avoid having specific outlookings on others since it isn't relevant to their everyday activities. That's what you assume from him, at least.
You click your tongue, biting the urge to punch yourself for such a stupid question. “You don't have to answer that—”
“I think you're nice.”
This time, you're the one who's caught off guard. Took you at least five seconds to comprehend what he said before you covered your cheeks. “R-really now?” You curse internally, the stuttering finally makes its way to your throat. The possibility of it being a dead giveaway to your flustered state is high.
Who knew a simple compliment can cause a surge of emotions. You're absolutely smitten for a man who you only ever talk to for school work and whatnot. It's strange, no? Any normal person would be enamoured with their love if they've known each other on a deeper level. That's what you lack, the inner knowledge of each other's whole self.
Which is why your feelings don't have any proper explanation for how it suddenly blossomed in your life.
“Thank you.” Your voice involuntarily cracks, causing you to bite your tongue. Hard enough to feel the soft pain as punishment for such a minor mistake.
“What about you?”
“Hm?”
He straightens his back, blue eyes boring at you, peeking out of the sunglasses he wears, “What's your opinion about me?” He looks so calm and endearing. If you could, a pinch of his cheeks would satisfy your greed.
The first thing that pops up in your mind is this; should you confess?, would this be a good time to? A simple ‘I like you’ should be enough.
Easier said than done.
You open your mouth and it stays agape, nothing coming out from it. You look like an idiot who's trying to articulate their words to the best of their abilities. Numerous phrases and sentences jumble within your mind, knowing that all of it is true and reveals a part of yourself. But only one can taste the victory of escaping your tongue.
A debate is being conducted inside of your mind, all happening within just a few seconds. The tiny yous in your head arguing over whether you should beat around the bush or outright display the undeniable affection you carry.
Then, a winner was decided.
“I like y…your company.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid! So close, yet so far from the goal at hand!
That receives a hum from the young man. Turning away from you now, attention directed to the field in front of him. “What else?”
“You only said one thing about me. Why should I say more?”
“Because there's a lot to say about the greatest and most handsome man on the planet.” He says, in the most matter-of-fact way ever.
You almost scoff at the statement. Instead, you shake your head, laughing at his arrogance. This is what you fell in love with? A man so confident in his abilities that he doubts that no one can compete with him. That is considered an unattractive trait, yet you're drawn to that. The silliness of it, carried with the way he presents himself makes it all the more charming in your perspective.
“I won't say anything unless you say something about me again.” You playfully said. Shoulders relaxed, breathing finally steady again.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Easy, you have a nice personality.”
“That's basically the same thing as earlier!”
“What? No it isn't.”
You can hardly contain it, the sound of laughter escapes you once again. You're awfully flighty tonight. The sound of it gave Gojo a slight fright. The man was confused with the sudden burst of elation. “What's so funny?”
“Nothing, it's just…” You stare at his eyes, the radiant ones you will always admire, “For someone so smart you act stupid sometimes.”
Gojo acts offended, a hand plastered on his chest the moment he heard ‘stupid’. “Excuse me? Fine!” He's warming up and it's conspicuous because his personality is mostly reserved when around you. It's completely welcomed, you get to see the side of him that's usually displayed around others. Now he acts comfortable enough to do it with you, when alone at least.
“Your face,” He points with his index finger, “It's a nice one.”
“Is “nice” all you can say?”
Defeated, he sighs, “Beautiful then.”
With cheekiness you replied with a simple gratitude. The shyness and timidity are all gone just for this.
Until you actually process what he said.
That heat rushes up and you cover your face in a hurry. This is getting repetitive. You're lucky it's dim, if not he could see the shift of hues on your skin.
Ouch, does it tug on your heart strings. Over some basic compliment he probably said to others before. You already hammered into your mind that finding someone pretty doesn't equal attraction. You think Shoko and Geto are attractive, but in no shape or form are they the victim of your unwanted affection.
“Great.” You stand up, wiping any excess dirt from your behind. “I'll be off then.”
“Where are you going—”
You start to make a run for it. Wacky and weird, but you need to get away from him or else you'll actually explode.
You can hear his yells from a distance, distraught in his tone for your sudden attempt at fleeing away, “It’s supposed to be your turn!”
“Tomorrow!”
“Jerk!”
—
Now you've done it.
Leaving like that is the most childish and crude thing you've ever done. What are you, 12?! You're beating yourself over what happened last night, he called you a jerk. Oh, to the beings above, may someone tell you that he didn't mean it like that. You're endlessly overthinking about how disrespectful and pointless the whole night was with the lack of reasonability there is to your escape.
What's the price to pay for doing all that you might ask? Avoidance! Mostly you, not him, he doesn't look like he cares at all, but you? Having to be in the same room as the man gets your limbs uncoordinated and crooked, as if you were some robot in disguise.
If there's one thing to describe you is that you're pathetic when the time comes. Here you are, begging Shoko to sit next to him instead of your normal sitting arrangement where he's located to your right.
Hands clasped together, knees buckled against each other instead of the typical kneeling on the ground to salvage what remains of your dignity. “Oh, please, please, please, just do me this one favor! I'll buy you cigarettes and not complain over the smell for a week!”
She gives you a jaded look, one hand on her hips while she looks down on you like she's someone above status.
“I would if you got on your knees.”
“I'm not doing that.”
“Deal’s off.”
In one swift motion you get on your knees as told, bowing down to her as you continuously beg over and over for something so insignificant. Tears almost shed from your eyes by how dedicated you are to this role of a good for nothing bum.
Shoko lets out a laugh of contentment. Offering a hand to lift you up to your feet. “That's enough! What a splendid performance.” She raises her palms together to clap, regarding you for the show of desperation.
From your agreement, you get to sit one seat away from the almighty Gojo Satoru. Though, even he isn't oblivious to your unmistakable attempt at dodging his presence. For now, he just listens to the teacher, making quick remarks here and there as any student would in the middle of a lesson.
You just have to do this for a few more days until you're ready.
—
You're so dead.
You think he's forgotten about the whole ditching thing four nights ago. Oh, no, no, no! He didn't! In fact, he has you cornered on a wall, not letting you escape his tall and lean structure with his hand right besides your face, not allowing any sort of escape at all.
What a life, you think. Getting pinned against the wall by the most annoyingly handsome man you've ever met was a dream written on your non-existent bucket list.
In your thoughts it would be a sensual scenario where he'd lean over and capture your lips with his thumb. Swiping left and right to feel the texture with his calloused pads. Admiring the color with his bright blue eyes before he leans in and partakes in his desires—
That's enough. You're getting a bit too ahead of yourself.
“We didn't finish that conversation we had.” He pouts, how cute. Like a puppy begging its owner for a treat. “You just left me hanging, how dare you?”
Why is he like this? Someone help you! Save you from this evil offender who continues to unknowingly attack you with his indisputable charm beams!
“I…don't know…what you're talking about.” Arms crossed and steady, you turn your head to the side. Acting defiant to his claims. In actuality, you can't give him a single look or else all hell will break loose on your face. “Why are you so hung up on it?”
“I find it distasteful when something is left unfinished.” He pulls away for a second, adjusting his glasses, before going back to you. Closer than before. His voice goes lower than what you expected. “And you're avoiding me. I don't like that.”
You're confused, finally giving him another piece of attention. “We barely talk as it is, why does it matter now?”
He lets out a groan, frustration seeping in. “You didn't ask for any help as usual. It's bugging me the heck out.”
You're speechless. Is that really his perspective? Who knew the big and almighty Gojo Satoru would ponder over you dodging his presence. A sensitive side to him, a reminder of his human qualities and proof he isn't some all-knowing super monster.
“I understood the lesson better than usual.”
“Are you sure? I saw you complaining about it to Shoko.”
“You were looking at me?”
“I always look at you—”
He clicks his tongue, retracting his full body from you. Face red, evident in his pale, poreless skin. With a grimace on his face he grumbles to himself. Saying something incoherent, but you can make out the words ‘dammit’ and ‘fuck me’ from his mouth. What an odd guy.
He then proceeds to put on a show of immaturity and childishness. To your surprise, he inches closer to the wall next to him, back facing towards you.
Then… he slams his head onto the concrete.
For about…one…two…three…five times? More than that.
“What are you doing?!” You walk up to him, hand on his shoulders to stop the man from any further damage. There's a dent from where he keeps butting at—you're more concerned to the wall itself than the bruise that's forming on top of his forehead. You might get in trouble for that even if you have no play in this. You're just a witness!
Is your life a comedy? If not then, who on earth is stupid enough to do this till they bleed?! You don't know RCT and have nothing on you to give basic medical care to the smartest, yet most stupid man besides you.
“What’s up with you?! Are you crazy?!” You take out a handkerchief from your pocket, stopping the minor bleeding that's seeping out of his head. There it is again, that unreadable expression.
“I hate you…”
You pause, stumped. “What?”
He pushes you away, hands going up to cover his face. He lets out a loud groan as if he was exasperated.
“You…you witch.”
“W-what?” Your voice shakes. Nervous by his demeaning tone. It's the first you've heard of it from him. One that's directed at you too. You wanted to hear him out first, reasoning behind the sudden name and attitude that you're getting yourself into.
Until…
“I hate you so fucking much.”
Your heart drops. All colors in your face slips out. In just milliseconds you become a lifeless ghost. In no way in this goddamn world did you think he’d just blurt it out so casually. The underlying hatred he has for you, true feelings shown in just six little words that have so much impact.
All those times he shared food with you really was just forced obligation. The appropriate kindness you ought to show to your classmate was really all he was doing.
You clutch up your chest, biting the insides of your mouth. Hoping to let out a response that doesn't result in lashing someone out.
“Okay…” Is all you can muster up. Weak and simple.
Just when you were about to make your leave, he finally speaks. A whine coming out from his lips, the most pitiful one ever.
“You make me insane…” Voice hoarse as he turns around, sliding onto the floor. Resting on his behind while he slouches on the ground. Hands on top of his head, sheltering himself from the unknown. He doesn't look up, too shy and embarrassed to even do so.
“You make my heart beat so fast, it's driving me nuts. Just say you hate me and so I can get rid of these feelings.”
Then, a sigh, as if it takes every ounce of his strength to admit everything.
“Reject me, please.”
…
………
…………..????????????????????
“What?”
The third time you have said that. A rollercoaster of emotions surges through you. A mixture of delight and confusion plastered in your mind. At first he hates you and now he's declaring that he has feelings for you and now he wants a rejection?! That's your plan, not his! This is…utterly ridiculous! You're in disbelief of it all because this scene is…seriously, what even is this?
All this time you've been hiding your feelings, planning the time you get the courage to ask him out in hopes he declines your motives. The tables have turned, what a sweet moment!
“You're not joking?” You had to ask, you need multiple affirmations before you get to move on from this.
He sinks deeper into his arms, begrudgingly replying, “No. I'm not. Why would I lie about this?”
You shrug, “I don't know, you're Gojo Satoru.”
He lifts himself up, dusting away any dirt that catches his clothes. “The Gojo Satoru doesn't lie!”
The corners of your lips turn up right, a sound of bliss escapes you. A loud one at that. Hands on your stomach as you process every single thing that has happened within these few minutes together.
Old couples would laugh and comment about how this is the peak of youth. The essence of time and love with how idiotic teenagers can be when faced with the person they admire the most. The days where fumbling your words and tripping over them is a common route.
You hear a groan from the man, a frustrated one at that, “Stop laughing!”
How could you not? This situation is just hilarious, plus, you don't know how you should respond to his unforeseen confession. Now you know what it's like having to make a big decision in your life. Reject him and nothing comes out of it or…try it. See where this goes. It turns out to be mutual, after all.
“I…feel the same, y'know. I just didn't think you liked me too.” You lift your hand up to the back of your head. Scratching it due to your indecisiveness. “I never thought you out of all people would like me.”
“What's there not to like?” Gojo steps closer to you, swiping some dust from your hair. As if preserving an ancient artifact that's meant to show its beauty to the world. “You're everything.”
He lets out a deep breath, the tips of his fingers twitching. Controlling himself for what he was about to do. He looks rigid, complimented with a look of sincerity on his face.
“One last question. Are you accepting me or do you want to stay as friends?”
You can't help, but tease. The sudden confidence in you just by knowing the truth is egging you to do so, “We were friends?”
“Just answer the question.”
“I thought you wanted a rejection?”
He scoffs, not wanting to play this little game any longer, “Not anymore now that I know you feel the same.”
You give him a smile, ready to say with the most eagerness you ever had in your life. The words dancing around your tongue and playing who knows what before you finally give him a proper answer, “I accept.”
“Great.”
Your eyes widen from the sudden action. In a quick haste, he catches you by surprise. The soft feel of fresh sweet lips crashing against your own. You gasp in shock, fingers grasping his sleeves as he deepens the kiss. You let out a moan, breathless by how passionate he is to swoon you from your feet.
This was your fantasy, one of them at least. You had a lot, but actually experiencing it is like lighting up fireworks for the first time. The thrill and excitement to do something that lasts merely seconds in your life. But with this, you can relive it as many times as you want for free if you just ask.
Then something tries to protrude in your mouth, wet and a bit slimy. You pull away, panting. Hot breath coming out of you from how warm your upper body has turned.
“Don't…don't do that.” You smack his face, trying to cool down the blush on your cheeks with the attack. “Ask next time. Was that your tongue?”
He nods, unashamed, “I thought it'd be more romantic.”
You shake your head, rolling your eyes because of such a daring approach. “I'm so not ready for that…”
Still, his display of affection gives you a smile on your face and a fluttering stomach. What a sweet gesture in order for you to not have any doubts in what he wants the most from you. You have a feeling this will happen often with him.
“Are we official now?” He bites his lips, anticipating your approval.
“Sure.” You giggled, “Whatever you want.”
—
Treating his small injury by Shoko was supposed to be a quick one…but this bastard can't shut his trap for one second with how giddy he is.
“One more thing about true love and I'm not giving you any ounce of healing.” Shoko says, irked out of her mind.
“You don't understand! I'm ecstatic!” He chases her around the classroom, trying to convince her to heal him.
Watching as the scene plays out, you stay in a corner with Geto. With him revealing all the little secrets Gojo had kept from you in these months of being classmates.
“Y'know, he had a hard time making the first move.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, I had to push him through it all or else that coward would never say anything.”
“I see.” You nod at the revelation, pleased to know you aren't the only one who's the scaredy cat here. “Were you the one who told him to get rejected by me?”
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 Pairings: Ex-husband!Satoru x American photographer!reader ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
Art credits to the lovely @/3-aem
Aperture Masterlist // Chapter One
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Ex-husband!Satoru who you met in a college on an exchange trip to the University of Tokyo and fell so stupidly in love with that you decided to stay in Japan. He was so fucking sweet to you and just as in love with you as you were with him. His parents on the other hand? They hated you. They hated you for being poor, they hated you for being an artist, and they detested you for being American.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Ex-husband!Satoru who married you anyway fresh out of college in a lavish, gorgeous wedding he personally paid for because god knows his parents wouldn’t help. He really thought of every detail—your favorite flowers, a gorgeous designer dress, a lovely venue. He really went all out. Of course, he was disappointed his parents wouldn’t support you, but when have his parents ever supported something he wanted?
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Ex-husband!Satoru who treats you so well in the early days of your marriage that it breaks your heart when he slowly stops speaking up against his parents’ snide comments. He still hates them, but it’s just easier not to reply, right? It’s not worth the drama. He doesn’t notice you slowly withdrawing into yourself because his parents pull him into the company he’s supposed to inherit more and more.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Ex-husband!Satoru who feels validated by the flirtations of the pretty Japanese girl his parents hired as his secretary. He doesn’t even notice the danger of it at first. He starts having lunches with her, then dinners, and then somehow he’s cheating on you. He doesn’t even understand how everything spiraled so out of control. When you find text messages between them, he doesn’t even bother to fight for you because he’s so convinced you’ll be better off without him and his shitty family.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Ex-husband!Satoru who lets you go. He doesn’t contest the divorce, he doesn’t try to convince you to stay with him. Deep down though, he hates himself. He hates himself so much that it feels like a curse. Because he knows that he’ll never love anyone like he loves you again. Loves. Present tense. But he lets you go anyway to the praise and pleasure of his parents.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Ex-husband!Satoru who you don’t tell that you’re going back to America once the divorce is finalized. The day you get the notification from your lawyer, you don’t answer his calls as you pack your bag, feeling sick to your stomach. He never gets to find out that, after getting sick again at the airport, you realized your period is late and buy a test from the airport store. He never gets to see the look of shock and horror on your face at the faint twin pink lines. He never gets to know that, flying hundreds of miles away, is the love of his life and his unborn child.
gojo wants you dumb on his dick and that’s the truth.
“yeah, that’s it.” he says with his cock pounding in and out of you. your pussy makes a lewd squelch with every thrust, your hot liquids dripping all over him.
you lay on the bed of his massive room, his navy silk sheets sliding around beneath you while you let out incoherent whimpers.
“fuck, that feel good baby? yeah it does, always. you looove this cock.” he finishes that sentence with a hard thrust, causing you to whine out.
“tor-, ngh, toru, ahhh-“
“what’s that?” thrust. “i can’t hear you sweetheart.”
“gonna, mm, gonna c-cum.” you say, almost pleading with need. your body twitches prematurely as your eyes roll back, completely pornographic.
“are you sure? i don’t know hun, i think it might be too much for you.” gojo teases, his bright blue eyes focusing devilishly on you. he wraps his arms around your waist, arching your back and bringing you closer to his cock.
“please! i’ll, i’ll be gooood.” you whine, before your begging turns into sputtering nonsense. gojo feels how your pussy clamps down on his dick, a sign of your closeness.
“ahh, ple, please, toru, mmph, oh god-“
“god, yeah that’s right. come on, cum on this cock. let it go.”
you practically squeal as you orgasm, your body squirming on the bed whilst gojo’s embrace holds you close. your eyes roll back at how tightly your pussy squeezes, until you’re left a sweaty, mindless mess.
gojo leans over you, his cock still buried inside. he gently but firmly places his hand around your throat, pushing down enough to gain your attention.
sae hates to see you go through your seasonal depression.
sae is very blunt, reserved and sometimes emotionally detached.
so dating someone with these traits can be difficult. but one thing about him is he always shows he cares. even if it’s small.
you sit curled in the bed with your phone in your hand zoning out thinking about god knows what.
you’ve been in such a slump lately, and it’s taking a toll on you. and he can see it. and it absolutely hurts his heart.
he comes home from practice early walking into your shared bedroom seeing your small form curled up, he lets out a soft sigh before sitting down beside you making the bed dip.
his hand moves to squeeze your shoulder. “how’s my sweet girl feeling today?” he asks quietly. you hum in acknowledgment but dont give him a proper response.
he looks over your tired form and feels his heart ache.
“i don’t know what to do. i don’t know how to help,” he says in a quiet quivery voice.
you lift up slowly looking into his teal eyes feeling your eyes water before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug.
“i’m sorry… im like this. you don’t deserve this.” you mumble against him. he shakes his head squeezing you tightly.
“no. no. i know my sweet girl is in there. so don’t say that.” he says against your skin.
making your stomach twist as your tears fall onto him.
the slightest water droplet falls onto your thighs. it’s not yours, but sae’s delicate tear. and he never cries.
“you’re so strong. i see you trying. i know it’s hard but im here with you.” he says pulling back cupping your face.
you’ve never seen sae in this state before. reddened eyes, heavy shoulders, shaky hands.
he’s always been one to hide his emotions well, but to the woman he loves? impossible.
he pecks your cheek with soft kisses, then your neck, and back up to your face to kiss your nose making your eyes flutter letting out a soft giggle.
he smiles continuing to attack your face with kisses,
“there she is. i love hearing you laugh.”
you run your fingers through his soft magenta locks letting him attack you with kisses.
in which satoru gets glasses and his baby daughter can't recognise him! (ó﹏ò｡)
part 1 of my 1k celebratory series, i hope you enjoyy!!<3
content: husband!gojo x reader, dadjo fluff ♡⸝⸝ word count: 2.1k
“ta-da!”
you’re busy cutting up fruit for your daughter when you hear your husband’s voice followed by the sound of the front door clicking shut, signalling his arrival home. the familiar sound of him shrugging off his coat and making his way to the kitchen reaches your ears, and so you quickly finish up cutting the strawberries and apple slices before turning your attention to the kitchen doorway.
“hey toru—” you begin. before you can finish, however, you’re forced to cut your own words off, your eyes falling upon satoru’s face. a blank, slightly puzzled expression crosses your features.
“…since when did you have glasses?”
“since today!” he grins, slipping them off and turning them over in his hands. “nanami was saying how my eyesight has been kinda lacking recently, and i thought he had been overreacting buuut…guess he was right!” he nods his head towards the glasses in his hands with an eager smile.
sighing and rinsing your hands clean of the fruit juice, you reach forward to take the glasses into your own hands, wanting to see them for yourself. “you don’t give the poor man enough credit, you know.”
“…okay rude! i give him plenty of credit where it’s due!” he retorts. he watches with a fond expression as you hold the glasses out in front of you, your brows furrowed as you test the lenses.
“wow, satoru!” you gasp jokingly. “i always thought that you were the strongest, but it seems like your prescription is even stronger!”
that earns you one of his signature pouts, his lip jutted out dramatically as he feigns offence, snatching the glasses back from your grasp and fixing them atop his face again.
“hey! i’ll have you know that i’m plenty stronger than my prescription.”
you roll your eyes playfully before you hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching from the living room, followed by an excited squeal. you turn to see your daughter rushing into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around her father’s leg, and satoru lifts her up so that he’s holding her against his chest, face-to-face with her now.
“papa! papa come look, i made a princess castle with the big blocks and—” she cuts her words off abruptly.
what had been an excited expression — eyes blown wide and plump cheeks pulled into a huge smile — quickly turns into one of…confusion. she simply pauses and pulls her head backwards slightly to inspect him, staring blankly.
“..who are you?” she mumbles, and satoru wishes he could ignore the tone of disgust in her words. he forces out a tiny laugh.
“who am i? what do you mean, sweetheart?” he asks, sticking out his lip playfully once more. he leans forward to press a quick, teasing kiss to her nose, only for her to whine and lightly push his face away with her hand.
she turns her body in his arms so that she’s facing you, evidently having decided that the first answer wasn't satisfactory enough for her. “mama, who is he?”
the gasp that satoru lets out upon realising that she’s actually serious is comically loud. he simply stays stood there with a hurt expression, staring through thick lenses at his miniature version and looking as though she’s just scalded him.
“don’t you recognise me?” his voice has already raised an octave, tone offended, and he hastens to pull off the glasses, resolutely placing them upon the tabletop. “see, i’m your father..!” he turns to you now, eyes desperate, and it takes everything in you not to giggle. “sweets, tell her i’m her father!”
“toru, don’t be silly.” you make your way closer to where he’s stood with your daughter in his arms, pressing a quick kiss to her hair before speaking once more. “you recognise papa, right?”
“umm…” she studies his face, this time without him wearing the glasses, before nodding. “..mhm!” your daughter nods enthusiastically, a gummy smile stretching across her face once more. she extends her hands out to touch satoru’s cheeks, as though checking he’s really there in front of her. then, with a tiny satisfied nod to herself, she leans back into him, resting her head against his chest.
“papa, you looked funny.” she mumbles. you can’t help but laugh, but judging by the look on satoru’s face, the situation is anything but amusing.
“i looked…funny?” he mimics, his tone tainted with disbelief and a touch of devastation. his brows are pinched together, looking scandalised as he peers down at your daughter in his arms as she speaks.
“mhm…like different funny.”
you’re sure you can practically hear satoru’s heart shattering in that moment, his face falling completely. he stays stood there, studying your daughter’s face in silence before seeming to come to a decision, decidedly snatching his glasses off the table and inspecting them.
“then i won’t wear them.”
“what? toru, you have to!” you cut in, but his features are already set in that stubborn face that you recognise all too well.
“no — my own daughter doesn’t recognise me!” he places heavy emphasis on the word daughter, the betrayal and hurt evident in his voice. you roll your eyes, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh at his dramatics.
“satoru, you need to be able to see things — surely you’re not serious!” you protest.
“i’m super serious! never again.”
-
a tiny, foolish part of you had thought — or rather, hoped — that he’d been joking, that it was another one of his silly over-exaggerations, a dramatic declaration in the heat of the moment. except it wasn’t.
because now you’re sat watching satoru squint at his phone for the hundredth time in the past hour, his handsome features practically stuck in place now in that same, discomforted expression. you hadn’t planned on bringing up the glasses again, already expecting the conversation to be a losing battle, but after a while you’d decided that you really couldn’t bear to watch him like that anymore.
“satoru…” you begin, not knowing quite how to get through to the 6’3” child in front of you. before you can begin, however, he cuts you off, having already anticipated your concern.
“i’m fine!” he insists, defiantly as ever. you notice your daughter’s head raise from where she’s doodling with her crayons, eagerly turning her head between you and her father in interest.
“you literally can’t see properly.” you retort.
“better that than have my own daughter not recognise me..” he grumbles. “she even said i look funny!”
you bite your tongue, deciding not to argue — instead, you let him continue scrolling on his phone, noting the way he continues to struggle to read the words on screen.
the same problem seems to crop up later, too, when he’s watching a movie with your daughter. you’re comfortably curled up on the couch, a blanket thrown over your lap, meanwhile satoru and your daughter are both laying on their stomachs inside the makeshift den they’d constructed earlier. in all honesty, you’d better describe it as a mess of cushions and blankets simply propped up haphazardly — in fact, you can even see your husband’s long legs half sticking out from the back of the den.
movie nights have become a common occurrence for your little family, and it’s no secret that your husband absolutely does not take family nights lightly.
whether it’s board game nights, late-night arts and crafts sessions at the kitchen table or simply time for bedtime stories, he always goes out of his way to make sure it’s as enjoyable as possible for your daughter— and movie nights are no exception. so, in true satoru gojo fashion, the den floor is cluttered with snacks: a bowl of strawberries, a couple of mini juice cartons, some popcorn and a plate of freshly-baked brownies among others. honestly, how your daughter will make it to adulthood without developing dreadful cavities is beyond you.
they both lay there on their stomachs, brownie crumbs all over your daughter’s mouth and cheeks and a half-bitten strawberry in satoru’s free hand from when he’d been feeding her. every so often she rests her head against his shoulder, her eyes still glued to the tv screen, and during the funnier scenes of the movie she turns her head towards his, searching his face for laughter before joining in and giggling loudly.
everything about the night is perfect, except for one tiny problem. satoru can’t see.
he tries to focus his vision, tries to make out the figures of the characters on screen as best as he can, but they’re too blurry, the screen a mess of fuzzy outlines and colours.
truth be told, it probably wouldn’t matter too much anyway, considering the fact that he knows the movie inside-out from having rewatched it a million times with your daughter. but nonetheless, he keeps squinting at the screen for several minutes, trying to force himself to register what exactly he’s looking at, brows knitted in careful concentration.
unfortunately for him, however, your four year old is scarily perceptive when she wants to be. she notices his strange behaviour — the repeated eye straining, the way his lip is jutted out subconsciously in mild frustration, the tiny irritated groans that leave his throat every few minutes— before finally speaking up.
“what are you doing?” she tilts her head to the side, wide blue eyes observing her father’s face.
“nothing! just focus on the movie, okay?” he beams wide, but the look on her face tells him that she isn’t entirely convinced. she simply stares at him, studying his expression for a few seconds before seeming to have an idea.
your daughter suddenly hops up from inside the den with such haste that you jolt from your own spot on the sofa. you and satoru both turn to exchange a brief confused look, hearing the pitter-patter of her feet against the floors as she rushes through the house.
“you’re missing the movie!” your husband calls out, but it’s in vain — your daughter doesn’t respond, strangely unbothered. in any other situation she’d never miss a single second of movie night this easily. satoru fumbles with the mess of cushions and snacks on the floor before finally retrieving the remote and pausing the movie, and with a sigh, he rests his head against his palm, turning to face you.
“…wonder what she’s doing..” he mutters, and you nod in agreement.
after a few short minutes your daughter finally returns, plopping down firmly by satoru’s side and placing down his glasses case.
“papa, you need to wear these!” she says determinedly. her tone is reminiscent of your own one earlier, and the similarity makes satoru’s heart swell for a brief moment.
she struggles to open the case at first, her fingers fumbling over the box before your husband intervenes. he carefully moves her hands away so that she won’t trap her fingers, a fond smile on his face at her puffed out cheeks and her determined expression — or at least, whatever parts of those features he’s actually able to distinguish properly without his glasses on. slowly, she picks the glasses up and tries to put them onto satoru’s face, narrowly avoiding poking his eyes out in the process.
with the guidance of your husband’s hands atop hers, she manages to finally slide the glasses onto his face properly so that they’re resting atop his nose now. he blinks at the sudden change in his vision, his daughter’s soft wispy pigtails and sticky food-covered cheeks now coming into vision clearly.
it’s an odd moment for satoru, as though he’s rediscovering the sensation of being a father again. he finally feels able to pinpoint the exact position of her sweet features once more, her face in much clearly quality than ever before, and for a second he can’t remember why he’d ever refused to wear his glasses in the first place.
that is, until she seems to decide to remind him.
“yay! you don’t look too funny papa, so you can still wear them, okay?” she’s wearing a stern expression as she holds his face securely in place with both her hands, waiting for confirmation that he understands. he chuckles.
“…i don’t look too funny?” he echoes her words, a single brow raised in interest.
“yeah! you only look a little funny, so it’s okay to wear them.”
satoru can’t even find it in himself to feign offence — if anything, he laughs harder before nodding.
“okay then. thanks for the permission, sweetheart.”
author's notes: AHHH part one is finally up — i’m so sorry for the delay and i hope you guys like itt!! i’m hoping to get the rest of the parts done much faster than this one
"came to say sorry." satoru stood outside your door, standing awkwardly.
“yeah, i can see that.” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest, making your breasts push up. satoru bit back a groan at the sight, forcing himself to look back at your face. “don’t tell me you aren’t a fan of tulips.” you rolled your eyes. “go home satoru.”
“wanna be with you tho.”
“well, i dont!”
“cmon, don’t be like that just cuz im smarter baby..” he coo’ed, hand reaching out to tug at your heated cheek. you instinctively smacked it away, grabbing the door handle once again. “and i’m not your baby.”
“you can be though.” satoru’s grin made its way back to his stupid face.
“oh, fuck you.”
before you could close the door shut on his face without even accepting the flowers, he quickly prevented you from doing so. “what was that?” his voice was low, almost daring.
“.. what?”
“i asked what you said just now. go on, repeat it for me.” satoru’s usually bright blue eyes have now darkened into both irritation and lust. you hesitated, not wanting to say those two words again afraid of the outcome.
but with the way he was looking down at you, it seemed like he wasn’t gonna leave until you did so.
“fuck you..” you said quietly this time, almost embarrassed. satoru nodded, pursing his lips — taking in your words. “alright. get on the fucking bed then.”
┈
you would’ve never guessed that satoru was strong. sure, he’s way taller than you, but where the hell did those muscles come from? he pressed your body against the bed, sinking you down on the mattress as his hands tugged at your clothes.
you could barely breathe with the way your face was pushed onto the pillow, whining out his name so desperately. “didn’t.. didn’t mean it!..”
your pants were pulled off, his grip tightening on your hips to arch your body just right. “then you shouldn’t have said it, pretty.” your neck was exposed, making it easy for him to brush his lips, teeth sinking down just right.
his dick was hard behind you, poking at your clothed cunt. “you always wear shit like this? even to school?” he asked, fingers tugging at your panties before letting it smack back into place. you helped at the sharp pain, soon being shut up by his mouth on yours. his tongue explored every inch of it, licking at the roof of your mouth and teeth.
when he pulled away, you were much wetter than before. “did you?” satoru asked again, hands shamelessly ripped up your underwear right in the middle. your cunt glistened with arousal under the dim lit room. it pulsed, practically begging for him.
“yes.. ngh yes i do!”
satoru hummed in satisfaction with your answer, playing with your clit with his light touch. “yknow how much i’ve dreamt about this.. with you under me, begging for me. shut, you made it hard to focus in class when all i wanted to do was bend you over that fucking desk.”
with just the right amount of precision, he inserted in two fingers, curling them almost right away. “satoru!” you screamed, knees shaking.
“love how my name sounds coming out of your mouth.” satoru’s finger were long and thin, reaching serena’s his dick could as well. “and the way you yell at me.. fuck, it’s so sexy.”
your pussy was begging for more with the loud wet squelching sounds it made. he couldn’t help but laugh at that, loving knowing how much you needed him at the moment.
“satoru please.. stop teasing!”
“but i’m not, baby.” he gave you a faux frown. “i’m touching you just how you wanted, right?” you shook your head. “oh? you want more?”
“please, want your cock..” your face reddened in embarrassment, never imagining yourself begging for satoru like this. the boy you swore you hated, was the same guy you were begging to get fucked by.
with a sigh, he pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth to lick off the spilled juices. “alright then.” your body shivered at the loss of him in you, back still arched and cunt exposed right towards him. he spread your legs a little bit wider, taking his cock out with one hand.
he as well, was dripping. pre was gathered at the tip, leaking with every breath he took. slowly, he dragged it right at your entrance, wanting more begging from you. “toru! stop it!”
“that’s a new one.” upon your request, he obliged, gently pushing in a couple of inches. “fuckkkkk..” you were right, so fucking tight and warm he could die right there. his thrusts were torturously slow. your knuckles had far turned white with the grip your hands had on the bedsheets. “can you just fuck me normally?!” you shot out.
“there she is.” satoru beamed. “missed ya being so snappy towards me. with that, he shoved his entire cock right in you. your mouth fell agape, no sound being produced. how could you even think when your back is getting blown out with a speed you don’t know was possible.
“mmm good girl.” he whispered, arms wrapping around your waist, bringing his whole body weight down onto yours.
you muffled your cries with the pillow, eyes rolling into the back of your head. everything was just so perfect. “shit, did you get tighter?” satoru kissed your cheek repeatedly, licking away at your tears. “you’re doing so good. taking my cock like the good perfect girl you are.”
your stomach fluttered at his words. even the most annoying guy on earth could be kind at times. satoru slowed down his movement, pulling out until his tip was the only thing inside of you. “want me to give you a proper apology for being an ass?”
the earlier events were long forgotten for you, being way too focused on how your insides were practically being de-arranged. regardless, you nodded.
“then cum for me.”
he slammed right back into you, knocking all air out of your lungs. you screamed, torn between feeling pleasure or pain. “cmon, cum all over my cock. show me how much you want me.”
your walls stretched around him, memorizing his length. bruises appeared on your sides from the sheer strength in which he was holding you, almost like he didn’t want to let go.
his thrusts stuttered when he neared his orgasm, not wanting to finish before you though. with one final thrust, you came all over him. you sniffled, looking over your shoulder to meet eyes with him. the second you made eye contact, his face softened. shortly after, he squirted our ropes of cum into your womb. he came a lot, some making its way out of your puffy folds.
his breaths were shaky, because looking down at you and seeing you post orgasm made him realize that one round wasn’t going to be enough. “you’re so beautiful..” satoru didn’t pull out yet, instead he turned your body over. your breathing was shaky, still regaining stability.
“i’m sorry for being so mean to you sweets.. just needed a way to get your attention.”
“well.. you got it.” you sniffled, leaning into his touch when he reached out to wipe away the remaining tears.
When you were seventeen, you gave your best friend a tearful hug goodbye and sent him off to an elite soccer training camp.
You didn't expect that you'd never hear from him again after that day.
You certainly didn't expect to run into him again, eight years later, on your birthday, at a bar.
kunigami rensuke x reader | 12.1k words total | part one ✧ part two ✧ part three ✧ part four | ao3 | minors dni
(Content warnings/tags for entire work: angst, angst and smut, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, childhood friends, post-canon, manga spoilers, drinking, poor reader is not having the best birthday, reunions, confessions)
Part one
When you finally saw Kunigami again in the flesh, it was in the last place you were expecting.
You hadn’t expected to ever see him again, really. Especially not at the bar where you were currently celebrating your twenty-fifth birthday with your friends, after not having spoken to him for eight years.
Not that you were counting.
The second his gaze met yours, and you confirmed yep, it was him, that those were the same amber eyes you had known so well so long ago, a surge of panic wracked through your body. You whipped around to hide your face from him - but it was too late. Kunigami had seen you, too, and you could feel his stare burning holes into the back of your head.
“What? Who did you see?” your friend Sara asked in a hushed tone, surprised by your sudden and dramatic reaction. You didn’t answer right away, your mind spinning a million miles a minute. Why was he here?
This piqued the interest of the rest of your friends, who immediately began searching the crowded bar for whoever had elicited such a reaction from you. It didn’t take long before they noticed Kunigami - his mop of fluffy red hair made him easy to spot in most places, but he stuck out even more due to the rambunctious group of men around him. It was obvious he was the subject of your miniature freak-out due to the way he was currently staring directly at you, even as your friends looked his way - had he no shame?
“Oh my god! Who is he?” Lilly, a friend from college, hissed, a grin on her face. “He’s so hot!”
“Is he an ex?” your coworker Jada asked, leaning in conspiratorially. You grimaced.
“Not an ex,” you answered through gritted teeth, still refusing to look Kunigami’s way. “Ex friend.”
“Holy shit,” Sara breathed, her eyes widening as the realization ripped through her. “Is that the footballer?”
You screwed your eyes shut and nodded, earning gasps and squeals from your friends.
This group of friends didn’t know Kunigami - you had met them all in college or since you moved to the city for your finance job, long after Kunigami had unceremoniously ended your friendship eight years ago. All they knew about him was that you were once close, and then you weren’t, and then he became one of the best football players in the world.
You’d kept up with Kunigami’s career for a little bit after he left, hoping that his lack of communication was a temporary thing due to the demands of his newfound fame. But when it became obvious that he never planned to speak to you again, your multitude of Kunigami jerseys went into a storage box, you stopped watching his games, and you did your best to stop caring - though that never fully worked.
You’d moved far away from the small town you and Kunigami grew up in together for your fancy grown-up finance job, so seeing him here was… a shock, to say the least. And on your birthday, no less.
“We have to go over there!” Lexie, another college friend, exclaimed. “He’s with his team, right? They’re all hot, and we’re all single! C’mon!”
Lexie grabbed on to your arm and gave you the best puppy dog eyes she could muster, and before you could answer, the rest of your friends were doing the same, echoing her with whines and pleas.
“Fine! Fine! You guys are the worst,” you relented, groaning. “But someone has to get me another drink before we go over there.”
★☆★
A few minutes later, a fresh drink in hand, you and your group of friends made your way through the crowded bar towards the group of boisterous men surrounding Kunigami.
Your stomach was in knots. You’d rehearsed this situation in your head so many times before, but somehow, you’d never thought it would happen in a bar. You always figured you’d meet again in some momentous way, some manner that felt important and dramatic and emotional, like on Christmas Eve or after he won the Ballon d’Or or something.
How were you supposed to casually ask him “Why’d you throw away our more than a decade of friendship so abruptly?”
As you neared, the attention of Kunigami’s teammates turned towards your posse. Your friends were hot, and all looked incredible tonight, so it was no surprise. However, you had no interest in meeting any of the other players - at least, not yet. Instead, your sights were set on the redheaded striker who was unabashedly staring right back at you.
As your friends melted into their own interactions with ease - introducing themselves to the players, explaining that you’re a “friend” of Kunigami’s, you stepped closer to him.
“Hi, Rensuke,” you said slowly, studying his appearance. In the almost decade since you had last seen him, he had changed quite a bit. He was taller, now, and you had to crane your vision upwards in order to hold his gaze. He was more muscular, and his frame was larger - he had always dwarfed you, a bit, but even more so now. His hair was longer, shaggier, and his eyes weren’t as kind as you remembered - the amber pools were stormy, now. It made you wonder if more had occurred in the years since you’d seen each other than what you had heard about in the sports column of the news.
He seemed to look down at you in a peculiar way - not tilting his head down, but rather dropping the angle of his gaze, as though looking down his nose. But it wasn’t haughty. Guarded, rather.
As he breathed out your name in response, you were struck by how flat his tone and expression were. The Kunigami you knew would have at the very least cracked a disarming smile at you by now. (Really, the Kunigami you knew would have pulled you in for a hug, but something told you he wasn’t going to do that after refusing to speak to you for eight years.)
“What are you doing here?” you asked, gaze dropping briefly to toy with the straw of your drink before looking back up at him again.
“I could ask you the same thing.” His tone was totally devoid of the warmth you remembered. But before you could say anything else, he answered your initial question. “We had an away match here.”
“I live here now,” you explained, even if he wasn’t really asking.
Kunigami nodded stiffly. You threw a glance down at the beer bottle in his hand - his knuckles were white. “Oh yeah. Forgot my sister mentioned that.”
Your heart ached at the mention of Kunigami’s older sister. You’d always been close with his family, so she had been your shoulder to cry on when he first left. When you were eighteen and beginning to wonder if he’d ever speak to you again, she’d been the one to hold you tight and tell you he was just getting used to the demands of his new life as a pro athlete. But when you were nineteen and accepted he was never talking to you again, you drifted away from her, too.
She still wished you a happy birthday each year, and always used that as a chance to ask for an update on your life. You just hadn’t realized that she’d been updating Kunigami, too. Hadn’t realized he cared. Her “happy birthday!” text she sent earlier today was still unanswered on your phone.
Silence stretched between you and Kunigami, and you used the opportunity to glance around at your friends. They had all fallen into conversations with Kunigami’s teammates easily - flirting, chatting, and laughing it up, having the time of their lives. You were happy for them, genuinely. Even if you were dying a little over here. On your damn birthday, of all days.
“They’re all good guys.” Your attention snapped back up to Kunigami as he spoke up, and you blinked at him a few times.
“Looked like you were worried for your friends,” he explained plainly. A twisting sensation settled in your stomach at the fact that he was still able to read you so clearly after so long - and yet you felt like he was a stranger to you right now.
Kunigami tore his amber gaze away from you momentarily to take a sip of his beer, and you took that as a cue to take several gulps of the drink Lexie had bought you. Ugh, that shit was strong. What the hell did she order you? You casted a glance her way, and she gave you a grin and a thumbs-up before returning to her conversation with the player in front of her.
When he lowered his beer again, Kunigami leaned on the high-top table next to him casually, looking at you down the slope of his nose once more - but he didn’t say a word. He just studied you intensely, like he was analyzing something about you. You squirmed, fidgeting with the straps of your “going-out top” you had chosen to wear tonight - suddenly feeling like it was much too revealing to be wearing in front of your childhood best friend who had ghosted you for the past eight years.
Finally, you piped up. “It’s been a long time.”
“It has,” Kunigami agreed. He didn’t say anything else, and the din of the busy bar filled the space between you once again. Fuck, this was so painfully awkward.
“Why?” you asked after a few moments. You didn’t elaborate. He knew what you meant.
Kunigami’s sigh was audible over the noise of the rest of the rowdy patrons. He simply stared at you, seemingly considering his answer.
As he thought, you pondered how much longer he had let his hair get - it shadowed his eyes now and made him look tired. You’d noticed this change back when you were still paying attention to his career, actually - he’d stopped cutting it short sometime between when he left for Blue Lock and when that strange Blue Lock pseudo-reality TV thing started.
When Kunigami finally answered, you felt sick.
“I don’t have an answer that you’re going to want to hear,” he said, as though it was the most tenable truth in the world.
Your face twisted into a frown, and your mouth opened and closed several times as you searched for a response. Something, anything, to make it clear to Kunigami how he had made you feel over the past eight years. How he’d broken your heart.
Before you could say anything, though, Sara bumped into your side, a big smile on her face. “The team is going to this rooftop bar downtown,” she informed you giddily, “and they want us to come with! Can we?”
A quick glance at the redhead in front of you… revealed nothing, of course. So you turned back to Sara and put a smile on your face, nodding. “That sounds good,” you told her, even if you were considering ending the night right now and going home to sulk. You didn’t want to ruin your friends’ fun - you knew they’d all leave the bar and go home with you immediately if that was what you did, refusing to let you be alone on your birthday. Sara cheered and immediately went to inform the rest of your friends, and you looked down at the half-full drink in your hand with a grimace. You were going to have to drink this concoction quick.
“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”
Still unsure of how to interact with the man in front of you, you simply nodded as you raised the glass to your lips, glaring at him over the rim as you drank the rest in one go. You winced at the strong taste. Christ, what did Lexie buy you?
“Happy birthday.” You could’ve sworn you saw a flash of the boy you once knew in his eyes as he said that. But if he was truly the Kunigami you had known all those years ago, he’d have picked you up and spun you around, made his sisters help him bake a cake, something. Not… this.
“Thanks,” you replied, your tone short. As your friends and his team prepared to leave for the next bar around you, the two of you simply stared at one another. You couldn’t tell what Kunigami was thinking anymore, but you had known him well enough at one time to at least tell that he was thinking about something.
“Can I buy you a drink at the next place? For your birthday,” he asked. The words were at odds with his nearly robotic expression and timbre - a question like that would typically be asked with an edge of flirtation or friendliness, at the very least. From the Kunigami you knew, you would’ve expected affection in such a request.
“It’s fine. Thanks, though,” you replied, pushing your empty glass to the center of the table next to you so that it could be bussed, brushing off the suggestion. You couldn’t help the hint of annoyance that crept into your voice - eight years and he wanted to buy you a drink?
“Don’t.” The sudden conviction and volume of Kunigami’s deep voice startled you. When you looked back at him, your eyes wide, you were shocked to see him looking remorseful, almost, his eyes lowered to the beer bottle in his hand.
Quieter, he continued. “Don’t do that. I’m not good at these things. Just let me do it.”
Then, after a beat, he added so softly you barely heard it, “Please.”
Your heart pounded in your chest at the sudden display of vulnerability from Kunigami. But as quickly as he showed it, it was gone. He raised his head, his expression steeled once more, waiting for your response.
“A-alright,” you stuttered, readjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder. “I guess.”
Kunigami nodded once in response. Before either of you could say anything else, Lilly and Jada descended upon you, beginning to tug you towards the exit in favor of the rooftop bar a few blocks away. As you walked, the rest of your friends and Kunigami’s team just ahead, they explained that the vibe at this place was just so cute and that it was perfect for chatting and “catching up.” In hushed tones, they told you about the players they’d been flirting with, giddy - but you found yourself struggling to focus, your mind remaining on one single striker instead.
While your group made its way towards your next location, you threw a glance backwards. Just as you expected, Kunigami was following dutifully behind, his hands in his pockets and a somber expression on his face.
It reminded you of high school.
You and Kunigami had always been closer than most, but you still had a larger group of friends you adored. You loved exploring the town with your friends, finding new restaurants or interesting shops.
As you walked from place to place with the group, Kunigami would always insist on bringing up the back, explaining that he wanted to make sure everyone made it to your destination safely. He’d always been your hero. Your protector.
Maybe some things never really changed. But maybe some other things did.
Rensuke Kunigami is one of my favourite characters in Blue Lock for many reasons... without revealing too much, this fic series contains some spoilers from both the anime and manga. It's angsty, achy, sweet and smutty. Loved the way it was crafted; well thought out and well-written 🧡
