PLEASE REPOST THE DOG TOJI FIC PLEEEEEAASSSEEEEEEEEEUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
babe 😭 that fic was honestly so badly writtennn?? i wrote it like three years ago & reposted it on my old account and i actually thought no one would be into it.
so no, i can't repost it because it's terrible and i just don't have the patience to rewrite all of that. i'm sorry 🥀
𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ sukuna spends six months confessing his love through flowers and their hidden meanings, only to realize you’d kept every single one without ever knowing why he gave them to you.
✿ ◞◟) ryomen sukuna 𝓍 gn!reader
𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 fluff, college!au, nerd flower!sukuna, yearning, acts of service as love language, friends to lovers, idiots in love, a lots of flower symbolism / hanakotoba, hand holding, kiss, sukuna is blushing!!, secretly romantic sukuna.
the campus greenhouse had always been sukuna's favorite place, which was something most people wouldn't expect if they only knew him from his reputation.
people only saw the sharp jawline, the permanent furrow between sukuna’s brows, the way his broad shoulders seemed to take up more space than any one person deserved. they heard his dry humor, his quick wit, the way he could cut someone down with nothing more than a glance and a few carefully chosen words. they didn't see him here, elbows braced against a worn wooden table, fingers gently tracing the petal of a peony like he was handling something sacred.
you watched him from across the table, chin propped in your palm, half-listening to the lecture he'd launched into about fifteen minutes ago; something about victorian flower language, about the way people used to say things they couldn't speak aloud through carefully arranged bouquets.
sukuna’s voice was lower than usual here, way softer, as if the greenhouse demanded a certain reverence that even ryomen sukuna couldn't ignore.
"—and the thing is," sukuna said, gesturing with the hand that wasn't currently cradling a potted orchid. "people think it's all just romantic bullshit, but it's not. it's practical, really. a way of communicating when the words won't come out right."
sukuna’s tattoos shifted when he moved, those dark lines that crawled up his forearms and disappeared beneath his sleeves. you'd always liked that about sukuna; the way the boy never bothered to hide them even when professors gave him pointed looks on the first day of classes.
he was all sharp edges and hard lines, but then he'd show up at your apartment with a sprig of lavender tucked behind his ear like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"you're not listening," sukuna said, but there was no accusation in it, just a statement of fact, accompanied by the faintest quirk of his lips.
"i am," you lied, sitting up straighter. "you were talking about... flowers saying things."
his eyes narrowed, but the corners of his mouth twitched.
"i was talking about specific meanings. symbolic language. there's a difference."
sukuna set down the orchid and reached for another pot, something small with delicate white blooms that you didn't recognize. his fingers were careful, deliberate, the same way they were when he rolled a cigarette or tied his shoelaces or did anything that required even the slightest bit of precision.
it was hard to reconcile this version of sukuna with the one who'd shoved his way through a crowd last week just to get to the front of the coffee shop line, all elbows and impatience and barely concealed irritation.
"this one," sukuna said, holding the pot up so you could see. "is stephanotis. it means marital happiness, but also a willingness to be led. which is stupid, honestly, because why the hell would anyone want to be led anywhere? but the victorians were weird about a lot of things."
you laughed, and something in his expression softened just enough that you almost missed it.
sukuna had been leaving you flowers for months now.
not in a romantic way, or at least you'd assumed it wasn't romantic because this was sukuna, and sukuna didn't do romance. he did late-night study sessions that turned into ordering pizza at two in the morning. he did stealing your clothes and pretending he hadn't noticed they were yours. he did showing up at your door with a single yellow tulip tucked behind his ear and then plucking it out to hand to you like it was nothing, like he hadn't just walked across campus with a flower in his hair and dared anyone to say something about it.
you'd kept all of them, pressed between the pages of textbooks you never opened anymore, tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror, dried and hanging from string tacked to your bedroom wall. there was something about the way he gave them to you; casual and offhand, like he'd just happened to find them and thought of you.
but sukuna never said why, he never explained the meaning behind any of them.
well, until now.
"so then you've got your roses, obviously," sukuna continued, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.
the movement pulled his t-shirt taut across his shoulders, and you looked away before he could catch you staring.
"red for love, white for purity, yellow for friendship. but that's way too simple. anyone knows that. the real interesting stuff is the obscure ones."
the afternoon light filtered through the greenhouse glass, casting everything in a warm, golden, and beautiful haze. dust motes drifted between the two of you, slow and lazy, and a bee hummed somewhere in the corner, drunk on something sweet and pink that you couldn't name.
sukuna's voice washed over you like honey, and you found yourself sinking into it despite your best efforts to stay alert.
"like gardenias," he said, and your heart did something strange in your chest because he'd given you gardenias. three weeks ago, tucked into a mason jar on your desk after a particularly brutal exam week. you'd thought they were just pretty. "they mean secret love. the kind that can't be spoken aloud. which is dramatic as hell, but victorians loved drama almost as much as they loved repressed emotions."
he said it like a joke, like he was mocking the very concept, but his fingers had gone still on the table with no fidgeting, no gesturing; just stillness, and the way his gaze darted away from yours for a fraction of a second before snapping back.
you thought about the gardenias, pressed between pages 87 and 88 of your ancient history textbook, still faintly fragrant when you opened them.
"and peonies," sukuna went on, reaching for the plant he'd been touching earlier. "they've got a few meanings. shame, anger, but also romance and prosperity. it depends on the context, really. the victorians loved context, too."
a little pause.
"mostly, though, they symbolize a happy marriage. or a wish for one, anyway."
sukuna had given you peonies on your birthday. a whole bouquet of them, pink and lush and ridiculous, shoved into your arms with a gruff 'happy birthday, idiot' before he'd disappeared into the kitchen to make you dinner. you'd cried a little, though you'd blamed it on allergies.
your throat felt tight now, but you weren't sure why.
"basil is hatred," sukuna said, ticking off on his fingers now, counting down some internal list. "which is funny because it's also a cooking herb, so who knows what that says about italian grandmothers. ivy means fidelity. rosemary is remembrance. lavender is devotion, but also distrust, because again, context matters."
lavender. he'd left a sprig of lavender on your pillow last month after you'd fallen asleep on his couch.
you'd woken up to the smell of it, and to sukuna making coffee in the kitchen, humming something tuneless under his breath. you'd kept it tucked behind your ear for the rest of the day, and he'd looked at you differently after that; softer, maybe. or maybe you'd imagined it.
"what about camellias?" you asked, and sukuna’s hand paused mid-gesture.
your voice sounded strange to your own ears, thin in a way that had nothing to do with volume and everything to do with the way your heart was suddenly trying to escape your ribcage. because he'd given you camellias too. pink ones, tied with a bit of twine, left in your backpack after a study session two months ago. you'd found them while looking for a pen and spent the rest of the night trying not to overthink it.
sukuna's jaw tightened for just a fraction, just for a second, but you saw it because you were looking, because you were always looking, even when you told yourself not to.
"camellias," sukuna repeated, and the word came out rougher than the others. he cleared his throat. "they mean... longing. desire, mostly. but specifically the kind that's acknowledged and accepted. not secret like gardenias, not hopeful like peonies. just... wanted."
the silence that followed was heavy and thick with something unspoken. a bee buzzed, a leaf drifted down from one of the hanging plants, landing softly on the table between the two of you like a tiny green question mark.
you thought about all of it.
the tulips and the lavender, the gardenias and the peonies, the camellias and the stephanotis sukuna had given you just last week, white and fragile and tucked into your coat pocket. you thought about the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, the way his voice softened when he said your name, the way he always, always made sure you ate even when you forgot, even when you were too tired or too stressed or too something to take care of yourself.
you thought about the yellow tulips he'd given you first, and what he'd just said about them meaning friendship, and how maybe that had been the beginning. maybe sukuna had started there on purpose, testing the waters, seeing if you'd accept something small and simple before moving on to gardenias and secrets and things left unsaid.
"why are you telling me this?" you asked, and your voice barely trembled at all.
sukuna's eyes met yours, and for once, there was nothing sharp in them. there was no challenge, no defense, no carefully constructed walls. there was just him, just ryomen sukuna, the biggest flower nerd you'd ever met with his flower meanings and his pressed specimens and his soft spot for things that grew from the dirt.
"because," sukuna said, and his ears were turning pink, actually pink, the color creeping down his neck and disappearing beneath his collar. "i've been leaving you flowers for six months, and you haven't said a single word about it. and i thought maybe you didn't know what they meant, and i couldn't decide if that was better or worse than you knowing and not saying anything anyway."
sukuna's hands were shaking slightly.
you'd never seen sukuna's hands shake before, not once in all the years you'd known him. he was always so steady, so sure, so infuriatingly composed, but now, his fingers were curled into loose fists on the table, and the faint tremor in them made something ache behind your sternum.
"so which is it?" sukuna asked, and his voice cracked on the last word. just a little. just enough. "did you know?"
you thought about the gardenias pressed in your textbook, the lavender behind your ear, the peonies on your birthday, the camellias in your backpack. you thought about the way you'd told yourself it didn't mean anything at all, that sukuna wasn't capable of meaning anything, that this was just something the boy did because he was strange like that and unpredictable and full of contradictions.
you thought about how badly you'd wanted to be wrong.
"i didn't know," you said, and something in sukuna's expression flickered, dimmed.
you reached across the table before he could pull away, before sukuna could retreat back behind whatever wall he was scrambling to rebuild. your fingers brushed his knuckles softly, and he went very, very still.
"i didn't know the meanings. but i kept all of them. every single one. they're in my apartment, sukuna. pressed into my textbooks and taped to my walls and stuffed into my jewelry box. i've been sleeping with lavender under my pillow for three weeks because i didn't want to lose the scent."
sukuna's breath caught; you heard it, the tiny hitch that he tried to disguise as a cough.
"that's—" sukuna started, but stopped, and then he swallowed. his throat worked around words that didn't seem to want to come out. "that's really fucking weird, actually. keeping flowers for months."
"you're one to talk," you said, and your lips curved into a smile that felt wobbly and fragile and too big for your face. "you're the one who gave them to me."
"yeah, well." his ears were still pink, spreading now to his cheekbones, and you'd never seen anything more beautiful in your entire life. "i'm in love with you, so it's different."
the words hung in the air between you, simple and devastating. there was no fanfare, and no dramatic pause, simply sukuna being sukuna, saying the thing he'd probably been trying to say for six months through petals and stems and carefully chosen blooms.
"you could have just told me," you said, and your voice was shaking now, but so were your hands, and so was he, so it didn't really matter.
"where's the fun in that?" he asked, but his voice was rough, and his eyes were bright, and when you squeezed his fingers, he squeezed back like he was afraid you'd disappear.
outside the greenhouse windows, the afternoon was fading into evening, gold bleeding into amber bleeding into the soft purple of early dusk. the bee had gone quiet, the leaves had stopped drifting, and the only sound was your breathing and his, mingling in the warm, humid air.
"i'm in love with you too," you said.
because it was true, because it had probably been true for longer than you wanted to admit, because sukuna was a nightmare and a softy and the biggest flower nerd you'd ever met, and you'd spent six months tucking his gifts between the pages of your life like pressed flowers of your own.
sukuna closed his eyes just for a moment, just long enough for you to see the way his shoulders dropped, the tension draining out of him like water from a cracked vase. when he opened them again, sukuna was smiling. a real smile, not the sharp-edged thing he showed the rest of the world, but something small and private and almost shy.
"good," sukuna said, and then, quieter; "i have more at my apartment. flowers, i mean. i was going to give them to you tomorrow, but—" he shrugged, one shoulder lifting and falling. "seems like a waste to wait."
your heart turned over in your chest, sweet like honey.
"show me," you said, and when he stood up and offered you his hand, you took it without hesitation.
sukuna’s palm was warm against yours, calloused from god knows what, steady now that the worst part was over.
he led you out of the greenhouse and into the cooling evening, and neither of you let go, not even when the campus paths grew busy with other students, not even when someone whistled and sukuna flipped them off with his free hand, not even when you reached sukuna’s apartment and he had to fumble for his keys because he simply didn't want to release you long enough to find them.
his apartment smelled like him, like cedar and something floral you couldn't name.
there were flowers everywhere — on the kitchen counter, on the windowsill, in a vase on the coffee table that was definitely too small for the arrangement it held. you spotted roses and tulips and something dark purple you didn't recognize, and sukuna followed your gaze and went pink again.
"i might have gone overboard," sukuma admitted, finally letting go of your hand so he could gesture vaguely at the chaos. "i wasn't sure which ones you'd like best, so i just kind of... got all of them."
you walked over to the windowsill, running your finger along the edge of a potted plant you didn't recognize. it was green and leafy, unassuming, nothing like the showy blooms scattered around the room.
"what's this one?" you asked, turning back to look at him.
sukuna was standing in the middle of his own living room like he'd never seen it before, like he was seeing it through your eyes and finding it lacking. he rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture you'd never seen him make, and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a murmur.
"basil," he said. "it means hatred, remember? i got it as a joke. thought it would be funny to have something that meant the opposite of everything else."
you laughed, and the sound seemed to break something loose in sukuna. he crossed the room in three long strides and stopped in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, close enough that you had to tilt your head back to look at his face.
"i meant it, you know," sukuna said, and his hands hovered near your waist like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch. "every flower. every single one. i meant all of it."
"i know," you said, and you reached up to cup his face in your hands, feeling the slight roughness of his jaw beneath your palms. "i know now."
he kissed you then, soft and careful, like you were something precious he was afraid of breaking. his lips tasted like coffee and something sweet, and his hands finally settled on your hips, and the basil sat on the windowsill behind you, tiny and green and full of meaning.
when you pulled back, sukuna’s eyes were closed, his lashes dark against his flushed cheeks. he looked sweeter like this, softer, like all the sharp edges had been sanded away by the simple fact of being wanted back.
"i'm still mad you didn't look up the meanings," he said without opening his eyes. "six months. i could have just told you in the first week and saved myself a lot of anxiety."
"but then i wouldn't have gotten the flowers," you pointed out, and sukuna snorted, and you felt the vibration of it all the way down to your bones.
"i would have given you the flowers anyway," he said, finally opening his eyes. they were darker than usual, soft with something you were learning to recognize. "i probably would have given you flowers even if you'd laughed in my face. it's a problem, really. my therapist would have a field day."
you laughed again, and sukuna smiled again, and the evening stretched out before you both, full of possibility and pressed flowers and the quiet understanding that some things didn't need to be spoken aloud to be true.
but it didn't hurt, you thought, as sukuna pulled you toward his couch and wrapped his arms around you like he'd been waiting his whole life to do it.
synopsis: suguru is exhausted. not from work, not from money, but from the tired narrative: successful bachelor. he has everything he can ever want except one thing— the cute seamstress with soft hands, who has no idea she ruined him for anyone else.
content: yearning suguru, older!reader, sugar baby dynamic, sexual themes,slight breeding kink, smut, reader is chubby/implied chubby,i'm bad at tags idk guys
note: idk the artist for artwork but pls lmk!!! first suguru fic — thank u for 900 :3! & bow dividers @/suupersonic
"good afternoon sir, how may we help you today?", the attendant clutched the clipboard in her hand, eyes skimming over suguru and satoru's bulky forms in the doorway of the shop.
"just here to get a new suit", suguru murmured, a tattooed arm running through his hair as he watched her back.
"ah!, is this your first time getting a suit then?", she accused eyes flickering over to satoru, as she sighed, "it seems like your friend has some history with that, so we can find yo—"
"we are so sorry mister geto!", another woman swooped in trying to reverse the damage before it got too far. "she didn't know!"
"well you should teach your attendants not to be fucking predjuice."
"we apologiz—"
"i will take my business elsewhere."
and they were gone.
but that's how suguru landed at the tailor shop you worked at. he didn't notice you at first, your other coworkers flocking his view as he sat down unimpressed from their flattery...he just wanted a suit.
and with you, that's what he got.
five years, six months, 165 days, 13 hours, 37 minutes and 12 secinds ago, suguru got the feeling of your soft hands on his arm as you pulled him through the sea of bodies to get him on the stand.
other than polite smiles, quick glances, and small murmurs for what he wanted fixed, you didn't give suguru any unwanted attention.
"it will be ready in five days.", was the first full sentence you spoke to him, "we will text you from this number."
we?
was it bad that he hoped, it would be you waiting at the phone, texting him with your nimble fingers?
"okay", he breathed taking the card from your hands, getting a shiver from the slight brush of your finger as you let go.
to say he was buzzing in those five days waiting for your call was an understatement. he was constantly checking his phone. five days was a long time right?
all that effort went to waste anyway when he missed your call while in a meeting. seriously?
but he couldn't be that mad as his thumb hit the replay button on the voicemail to hear your voice again.
"good afternoon, mister suguru", you started, "as mentioned before your suit is ready for pickup. our business hours are until 10pm and after that you will need to come pick it up Monday. hope to see you soon."
and again.
"good afternoon, mister suguru-"
pause. rewind. play.
"good afternoon, mister suguru-"
"good afternoon, mister suguru.-"
i think we get the point...and let's not mention how much he replayed that message. he will need to get more eventually.
and that he did, suguru always went to get his suits tailored, a new one made fresh or even just to accompany satoru, he made sure to always request you.
you were sweet—beautiful in a way that made him quietly, undeniably biased. he preferred you over the younger attendants without even trying. you carried yourself with a kind of maturity and strength that set you apart from anyone else that he encountered, not far from him in age or work ethic, and it drew him in more than anything else. suguru found himself enamored with every little thing about you.
though he didnt do more than what could be considered light flirting, some teasing and no more than the regualr pleasenturies.
you both were comfortable with each other, but he always drew that invisible line in the sand when it came to you, in his mind: you were taken. married.
just a few months after he started filling the space in the shop, he saw that you were pregnant with your son.
"you’re showing more now", satoru had purred when you were six months pregnant, his soft hands brushing your very visible bump as you smacked his hand away.
"please stay still."
"congratulations."
you paused, eyes flickering to suguru who manspreaded on the large couch, arms spread out as he tilted his head at you.
clearing your throat your hands flicked away just as you made eye contact, "thank you."
he never planned to make a move on you. this was a business relationship. well, more or less.
he had respect for you, your craftsmanship and your professionalism.
but when he heard you broke up with your boyfriend while he accompanied satoru to get megumi a tiny suit for a upcoming work event he couldn’t help but swoop in for the kill.
“actually i might get a new suit as well”, suguru said loudly as you dropped down the options for megumi.
“really?”, satoru called back from the dressing room, “you have so many—”
“i’ll get one tailored today", he cut him off, “if that’s alright.”
“yes that’s fine.”
you got him positioned, in polite conversation as usual, murmuring answers as you worked quickly to get the structure of his suit ready, "he's an idiot. you know."
"sorry?"
"your husband", he cleared his throat, eyes going down to land on your slightly chubby cheeks, "you deserved better than to be cheated on."
you hummed taking pin out of your hair to sitck it on the fabric that will be his sleeve, "we all deserve better."
"you need a man that will treat you right."
"are you offering that for me?"
"if you want."
"cute", you smiled up at him.
that's when a wicked idea came into to suguru's mind. an idea that let him have you close without crossing a line you weren’t ready for.
a way to make you his, in a sense, while still keeping things professional. to stay by your side, to support you, without forcing anything more.
"you're paying me to go out with you", you asked him as you folded megumi's shirt tightly in the cute little box with scrunched eyebrows as you listened to him.
"well if you put it like that..."
"that's what it is though", you huffed a small laugh, fixing the collar of the shirt as suguru leaned on the counter, peering over you. "like your sugar baby."
"kinda. yeah."
"why me?"
"i want to help you", he said in finality, "well i know you dont need my help but i want you to experience a real man", he said softly picking an eyelash off your cheek and holding it out for you. "make a wish."
you paused from folding the paper for the box, smiling as you closed your eyes and blew lightly on his finger.
"there are much younger...prettier girls that could probably be better for you.", you murmured finally closing the cover of the box, "and i'm a mom...i can't- i don't do the same stuff as i used to."
"or look the same.."
"but i choose you", he said licking his lips.
"just think about it. no pressure."
and for the next week, that suguru was gone...you really did.
you looked up how what it meant to be a sugar baby...even if you highly doubted he "just wanted to spend time with you".
and hoenstly, the deal did not seeem so bad, some women who wrote about it online had platonic relationships before it became sexual, that's if it became sexual at all.
"so...how do you feel?", suguru asked you exactly six days later, his eyes watching your hands tie a bow on his box. "thought about my offer?"
"i have.."
"and?"
"i am not sure...suguru", you sighed, your hands dusting off the box to give you something else to look at but him. "it seems like a lot and i'm a mom. you probably don't—"
"i'm a father", he cut you off.
"what?"
"i'm a father," he echoed, "why would i not want you just cause you have kids? i was here for both pregnancies remember."
"yes but", you pursed your lips," tapping against the box as you finally looked at him, "i am not entriely sure if i want to...y'know."
"and that's alright", he leaned in to stare at your eyes, "we will go however you want to. i'm catering to you remember?"
"okay."
"okay."
so when the next saturday rolled around, you got off early from your shift to a light outfit you saw his shiny black car roll around.
"this is...flashy", you chuckled as you aporached his car. he had already jumped out making it around the car before you even made the mere tens steps to the passenger door. "had to bring out my best for you."
"hmm and why do i have a feeling i'm not the only one you've said that too?"
"well", he leaned down his breath brushing your ear as he held the door open for you, "how much you want to bet you are? odds are in my favor."
and the rest of the day was pretty uneventful. a cute date at a cafe, he took you shopping to a few stores and while he sat in the chair outside the dressing room, he didn't pressure you to come out and show him either.
but he shelled out so much money for you... in one day... you could show him an outfit or two, right?
"um...suguru.", you meekly called out, "i could use help with this one."
he eyes darted up quickly, seeing you peek your head out the door of your dressing room, waving a hand for him to come.
he pocketed his phone pushing up off his seat as he stalked toward you, "want me to come in?"
you pulled back, the door creaaaked open as his large hand landed at the top, and he landed behind you. "right here?"
you hummed feeling his cold hands skimming over the smoothness of your back as he finally pulled the zipper up all the way. the heat that radiated off his body was enough to make you squirm in front of him, the feeling of his breath tickling your neck and his intense eyes stuck on you in the long mirror.
"you look divine", he breathed clenching his fists like he was trying so hard not to reach out to you.
"you think so?"
"i know so. get all of them, i'm paying."
suguru geto—deposit: + $3500
that was the basis of your relationship. suguru and flashing his sleek black card, always a step ahead of your thoughts—buying anything your eyes lingered on for even a second. the entire situation should’ve felt weird, should've felt transactional, but it didn't.
suguru made sure it didn't. that you knew he did this out of the pure need he had to make you feel nice, for you to enjoy yourself, and to thank you for the undeniable contribution you made to his life. not that you know it, or at least to the extent.
suguru geto—deposit "get those pumps we saw yesterday" : $750
suguru geto—deposit "and don't forget to send pics": $300
suguru geto—deposit "you looked beautiful in that dress today": $5000
but he still came back to the shop to get his suits tailored, standing too close as your hands adjusted the fabric along his shoulders, along his waist in light, careful touches that made your focus slip if you weren’t careful.
you always made sure to make yourself busy, to not meet his purple eyes swirling in lust, admiration and that teasing glint in his eyes that you were never able to pinpoint right away.
and somewhere along in the four months of this...arrangement, you grew used with him, used to his quirks and his constant gifts.
suguru was constantly sending you texts with links to trinkets, shoes, and bags that would remind him of you. and if you even hinted that you liked it, it was at your door no longer than the next day.
even then, he was respectful, his arm wrapping around your waist, soft brushes of his lips on your cheeks, and the hold on the small of your back, making you feel like a teenager again.
a month ago you finally kissed him, just a chaste peck outside your door but that still counts! it jsut made you more excited every second saturday when you went out with suguru, just waiting for the new surprise , new adventure, new getaway and the sad goodbye.
today was not any different, the long fun beach day three hours away you had with suguru was cut short when your babysitter had to leave early.
she brushed out the door just as you pulled up in suguru's car. now it was time to say goodbye...for now.
"well before you go...", you smiled meekly watching suguru with big sparkling eyes, your hand holding onto the doorknob like you knew what was exactly behind it, "someone i would like you to meet."
he squinted his eyes from the sound of light scratching as you peeked in with a soft hi baby!
"suguru this is my son, choso", you turned around a young boy clutching onto your thighs with a cute cat beanie as he stared at you with big brown eyes. "chocho", you cooed looking back down at him then back at suguru, "this is my friend, suguru."
suguru smiled as you crouched down to be eyelevel with the boy who gripped your leg like you'd disappear if he didn’t hang on, "hey kiddo", he murmured.
"cho, he's the one that got you your dino set!", you stage whispered to the almost five year old boy, who lit up at your words finally looking back at suguru.
"hello", his muffled voice rang out as his short chubby hand waved in uneven motions.
"mama?"
"oh yuuji! you're up!", you smiled as a fluff of pink hair appeared just next to choso.
"this is suguru."
"he got us the dinosaurs!", choso said excitedly blinking at suguru like he hung the moon, "are you coming to yuuji's birthday?"
"mmm depends," his eyes flicked up to you, "if your mama wants me to come."
"of course."
i should also mention that as much as suguru bought you anything and evrything you wanted he also didn't spare any expense when you saw something your boys would like, he would jump at the chance to get it for them, even adding in a few presents of his own.
and their birthdays were no exception.
"this is a lot suguru", you laughed watching him drop another box onto the already large pile of presents in your living room as yuuji and his friends ran around. "i think you bought more than me.”
"just showing how much i love him already."
you hummed softly in response, watching as he straightened up and made his way toward you. his purple eyes flickered down, and without hesitation, his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
"satoru is bringing the girls later so you guys can finally meet—"
“hey.” a light masculine voice chimed in.
the entire atmosphere shifted in a instance, you stiffened under his arm, posture going rigid as you barely glanced over your shoulder.
“jin.”
jin’s eyes flickered briefly over suguru, over the hand settled possessively at your waist, before locking back onto you.
“you remember kaori…”
a humorless smile tugged at your lips. “how could i forget my husband’s mistress?”
“hmm, well, you know that he—”
“kaori, let’s not start this now,” jin cut in with a sigh. “today is for yuuji.”
he adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowing slightly as they dropped again to suguru’s arm that squeezed your plump waist, and his face tucked beside your ear whispering something jin couldn't quite pinpoint.
"and this is?"
"you could ask me. i'm right here", suguru said curtly, watching jin as he stood back to his full height, "suguru."
"i'm jin.", holding out his hand. suguru just nodded in response, not even looking to his outstrecthed hand.
jin cleared his throat, awkwardly brushing his hand against his sweater. “and… who are you to—”
“does it matter, jin?”
“it doesn’t—but if he’s around my children, then i need to know.”
“you didn’t ask me about kaori.”
“listen—”
“i’m her fiancé.”
“…fiancé?” jin echoed, suspicion sharp in his voice as his eyes dropped to your bare hand. “no ring?”
"waiting on the perfect one..", suguru said in finality pulling you to the backyard, "try to enjoy the rest of the party."
"thank you for that sugu..", you whispered later, shutting the door to the spare room where yuuji and the twins were knocked out. "so much. he was a dick."
"yeah...but did you see his face when he cut the cake?"
you snorted, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, "priceless."
suguru's arms pooled around your waist, holding you close, chasing your lips again. he sighed into the kiss unconsciously grinding against your front.
pushing a few steps back before your back hit the wall, your soft fingers he loved so much found purchase in his long tresses that covered your bodies.
he huffed against your mouth, pulling back reluctantly, eyes dancing around your face with blown pupils.
“that’s not exactly how i would asked you to marry me y’know?”
he didn’t even wait for your answer. his mouth diving back to lick and claim your slightly ajar mouth.
his hands drifted slowly down your sides, feeling the soft supple skin that he could grab from your hunched up dress. his lips followed the ghosts of his fingertips, leaving long wet kisses along the side of your neck before he bit down on your shoulder.
“suguru— i—”, your body was on fire as the man looked up from his position, his hands groping the swell of your breasts as he grinned against your skin.
“you ready, baby?”
next thing you knew, your bedroom dooor flung open and suguru stripped both of you down with quickness.
his body basically devoured yours, his shadow covering the expanse of your body as he brushed his lips around your marked up neck and brushing them around your perk nipples before wrapping his hot mouth around them.
“oh go— sugu—”, your hands pulled at his hair as he sucked on one and massaged your other breast, his teeth coming out to graze the flesh as he parted.
a wanton moan slipped out your mouth as you clamped up, feeling a long shiver run through your body from his ministrations.
“oh, looks like i found your spot”, he chuckled, “so sensitive.”
“don’ tease sugu.”
the man licked down your sternum, his tongue dipping by your belly button, his hands never stopping their movements massaging the fat of your hips.
“i waited so long for this baby”, he murmured between wet kisses on your belly, “i’m savoring every moment.”
he drifted between your legs, biting, sucking and kissing any open skin he could reach, just missing where throbbed for him most.
you whined, desperate for his tongue, his fingers, anything and all he did was huff harsh breaths against your dripping cunt.
“so wet for me, yeah?” he pressed a wet kiss to your clit pulling back, “all i did was kiss you needy thing.”
he pressed another long wet kiss to your clit, sucking as he pulled back before his tongue peeked out to lick your folds.
“sugu— please i need— ah!”
he pressed his long finger inside you, pumping it in dutifully as his tongue worked between your folds. he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations on your body, on your clit as you pulled on his hair.
he pressed in a second finger scissoring you open, suckling on clit now his blown purple eyes watching you writhe up off the mattress.
his teeth grazed your clit in a quick firm bite, feeling you clamp down on his fingers, your thighs tightening around his head as you finally let go.
“best meal i had all fucking night.”
he moved up your body quickly, face still wet with slick, his tongue licking around his mouth as connected your lips again.
all you could taste was you, your taste on he licked in your mouth fighting yours for dominance.
his fat tip nudged between your folds as you pulled back suckling on your tongue.
“just breathe, you ready?”his gravelly voice called out as he played with his tip against the opening of your dripping cunt.
“mm”, you nodded your eyes finding his as he slowly pushed in peppering light kisses on your neck as he slipped in his thick cock each measly inch before he pressed in at the hilt with a heavy groan against your skin.
he thrusted shallowly, his big hands drifting down your thighs as he hiked your legs up to your shoulders, forcing himself deeper and your legs back, the further he dragged his thick cock between your walls.
he stared down at your fucked yo face, arms draped next to you as he held your legs down.
“wonder how you’d look pregnant with my baby in here, yeah?”, his hand came holding the slight chin of your stomach and squeezing it as you moaned, “you love being a mommy? i want to make you a mommy again.”
you squeezed down on his length, hands scraping his back as he started fucking you deeper, harder, eyes stuck on the bulge of his cock visible in your stomach between your open legs.
“mmm you like that, huh?” and he wasn’t talking to you his eyes stuck solely on your wet pussy, fusing more around his cock, a thick ring of white forming as he stuttered inside you.
“gripping me so tight…cum with me baby.”
your hands scratched on his shoulders as you came again, head lolling back in a high pitched moan, his hand covering you mouth to not wake anyone up, you felt his dick twitch inside you, long hard spurts of cum filling you up as he pulled out collapsing on top of you.
“so what engagement ring do you want?”
yorikae
— let’s not make fun of or constantly ONLY connect sugar babies to sexual acts, sometimes it’s for companionship!!! & if it IS a sexual relationship we should never judge what people do in their free time THABK YA.
note: im posting my 900 thank u before my 800…don’t shoot me it’s coming!— & i had to watch hell’s kitchen to finish this smut PLEASE i’m trying
◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ 𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ﹚the astrophage has been detrimental to the sun, it's already been predicted that more than half of humanity would be wiped out in just a matter of 30 years. You had expected that Satoru would be working tirelessly at that secret base to find a solution, and you hadn't complained nor wavered in your love for him. It wasn't until December 24th, the day he was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with you at home, had you been flown to the base to say your final goodbye to him. Satoru Gojo would be flying off into the stars to save humanity, and he wouldn't return.
⊹ ︵ WARNINGS ◦ ₊ㅤ ㅤㅤ ﹙ minors interact with caution sfw heavy heavy angst implied death slight fluff hurt/nocomfort bittersweet ending phm inspired nerdjo reader is pregnant mentions of possible miscarriage hashtag-kms-ending modern (?) scifi universe
౿ ˚ MINA'S NOTES ⫽ ✿ ─ watch Project Hail Mary and tell me that nerds aren't incredibly hot art by @/garfingbarfing on insta, curly div by @/pixopix
೯ ⁺ 𖥻 WC. ᰋ 5kㅤ
“She’s gonna have a lot of questions for you when she grows up,” you hummed.
Satoru paused, hand stilling on the screw he was currently screwing into the cradle that was under construction. Jaw tensing just slightly, before he smiled over at you, eyes trailed up from the small swell of your baby bump to your eyes. A faint glimmer in them, as he hesitated between spilling the truth and keeping the facade going.
“I can already imagine the questions she’ll ask if she gets any of the brain from me,” he huffed softly, eyes looking back at the cradle and continuing to screw one of the legs into place. Swallowing to avoid the truth.
“She’ll grow up to be just as sweet as me, and loving as her dad,” you smiled and nodded, before throwing a glare at Satoru when he stifled a laugh. “What? You think I’m wrong?”
He shook his head quickly, eyes still glued to the instruction manual as he smiled cheekily, “she’ll definitely take after her mother..” he said aloud to you. Only whispering the second part under his breath, “...hopefully not the stubbornness..” he kissed his teeth, knowing how his wife could be, especially when she was angry at him.
“I heard that, Mr. Gojo,” you grumbled down at him, flicking the back of his head.
He whined dramatically and clutched the back of his head, still holding the paper instructions. His bottom lip jutting out in a poor pout, eyes shimmering from the act he was putting on, “see! You’re proving my point! If she inherits any of your anger issues, I’m going grey before 40..” he sighed playfully.
“You’re gonna do fiiiine, she’s gonna be sweet and be the best daughter to you, up until you’re like.. 80!”
He hummed, his smile fading as he masked it with the concentration of building the cradle together.
In truth, Gojo knew he wouldn’t be staying for long on earth. If it had been any other way, if there was any singular way to save both him and the earth, he would’ve taken that chance. If there was a singular other scientist that could’ve replaced gojo, he would’ve asked for them. Anything. Just to stay with you.
Yet, there wasn’t. It was only Gojo left in the world with the highest knowledge on Astrophage, with the most hands-on experience and possibility of leading the crew to a solution. He had spent more time on the navy base working on how astrophages breed than with his dinner, or… even his own wife. He regretted knowing that last part was true. You had been so kind and understanding, dealing with everything alone at home, minimal contact with him since the base required ‘top security’.
…
“Do you think you’re gonna get home by the holidays?” You spoke over the phone, fiddling with the diamond rabbit necklace. He had gifted it to you on your 2nd wedding anniversary, yapping on about how rabbits meant luck in certain cultures and how he wanted to give all his leftover luck to you.
You had to shut him up with a kiss that day.
Satoru wasn’t yapping your ear off that day, though. No, he was doing the opposite. Struggling to speak, struggling to verbalise his long train of thoughts. Parts of him wanted to cry and spill the truth, but the other parts of him knew that you’d be distraught over his inevitable departure. That you’d fight it, get stressed, and be too busy crying to spend your last moments smiling with him.
So instead, he sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. Leaning against the wall as he spoke warmly into the phone, “I—.. you get me all flustered, you know? I don’t think I can make it by December, baby… but! Butbutbut, Stratt did say that she’d fly you over so you can spend Christmas Eve with me,” it wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t the complete truth.
You paused over the phone, his heart pounding in his chest. “…I’m allowed to visit you? I thought you said it was top secret and all—I’m only allowed to call you like.. once a week as well!” He could imagine the cute pout you had on your lips.
On all his Digimon collection, he loved you more than his own life.
“I know, I know, baby, but it’s just a special exception for the most beautiful wife of the smartest man on earth,” he purred into the phone before making kissy sounds. “The prettiest, sexiest, kindest, perfect, adorable—“
“Okay okay! I get it..” you grumbled quietly into the call, cutting him off. Flustered and embarrassed that he was probably saying all of this in front of his colleagues with no shame.
“Can’t a guy compliment his wife? His perfect, most—” he was about to go on a tangent again, clutching his hand against his “I tell dad Jo K Es periodically” shirt. “Satoru! The baby’s coming!” You quickly shut him up, making him go into a state of shock and panic. Goosebumps quickly spread on his arms, his eyes widened, and a sharp loud breath was quickly sucked in, enough to make one of his coworkers, Geto, look over confused.
“What, what, what? Like now? Now now? What do I do? It’s coming, oh my go—“
“I was joking! I just wanted you to stop talking,” you burst out laughing over the line. Rubbing the swell of your 5 month baby bump gently. He had sighed in return, pouting playfully and whining to you. “You play such mean tricks on your husbanddd… are you sure the baby is okay though? Seriously, are you okay?” His worries spilling over through the speaker, as you were smiling, dumbly in love, at your phone screen. His picture on your phone, the selfie he had taken with you on your first date. Awkward smiles and all.
“The baby’s fiiine,” you waved a hand, before humming into the call. “I had an appointment booked soon. I’ll let you know how she’s going when I call you next, okay? I’ll see you in a month though! You better kiss me lots!”
He had hummed, smiled and playfully bantered with you about who was going to hang up first, before sighing loudly when you had hung up first. His heart loudly thudding, stomach churning with the guilt of not telling you the truth. He was getting sick at the thought of leaving you.
Gojo wished he could say it was just a tiny part of him that wanted to stay on earth with you. Run away, evade any authorities, just live out a quiet life with you and your daughter. That it was some guilty, disgusting, vile part of his heart that he hated and would never succumb to. It was a treacherous feeling, one that gnawed at his heart every day, knowing how many lives depended on this mission–him to deliver what would save earth. “Saving humanity” was a noble cause, and one he desperately wished he could put above everything else.
But he knew the truth.
He knew it was most of his heart, if not all. It was evil of him to think that all things would go right in the world if he let someone else take on such an important role. That his daughter, his wife… would be safe and sound if he just ignored the shrinking of the sun. The apocalyptic world that was just waiting to happen.
It felt right, in his heart. He was human too, wasn’t he? It was only normal for him to yearn to stay in his home, to spend time with his family, to watch his daughter grow and become her own person.
“Gojo, you okay?” Stratt’s voice cut through his thoughts.
She was sipping on her coffee, already having finished her first. Eyes boring into his weary ones, expression unreadable. Satoru looked up, not any more relieved than before, as he rubbed his hands over his face. Shaking his head and groaning.
“Yeah, yeah I just—..” he sighed softly, taking a second before nodding and shaking whatever guilt was left in his system. “It’s just.. What do I tell her? That I’m leaving forever? How do I even tell her that I‘m never going to see her again, that I won’t be there for the birth of our child?” His heart squeezed tightly, the woman who had stolen it wouldn’t know of her husband’s death already being determined until too late. His wedding ring felt itchy, the smell of coffee making him sick.
“You don’t.”
His head snapped up, eyebrows furrowing in distaste and confusion, upper lip curling up in what he could only recognise as his distaste for the inevitable dread of his fate. “Seriously? That’s all you say?” He sighed, raising his eyebrows and slipping his hands under his glasses to rub his eyes. The weariness of multiple nights spent studying astrophage and the space flight was catching up to him. He wanted to be what stratt needed but all he could form was a husk of the hero.
“You know, for someone running a whole covert mission about saving the planet, I thought you’d have more moral discussions and be understanding about a man wanting to be with his family,” Shoko walked by, playfully adding on as both Stratt and Gojo glanced over at her.
She was dressed in her long white coat, bring the main medic on board, and in charge of any accidents that would occur on the ship. Haibara being the one constantly screwing up his acidic measurements and almost getting chemical burns, Nanami being the one to save him and scold him, while Shoko would constantly have to assess him.
“I don’t have morality left, the world is about to end as we know it,” Stratt sighed and sipped on her coffee again, before pouting her lips and frowning, shaking the empty cup. Her mind was already distracted with needing to order a new one.
Shoko raised an eyebrow, stopping and skipping on her feet just slightly, smiling and tilting her head to the right. “Seriously?”
Gojo nodded grimly and put on a mock serious face, “she’s never joking. She told me she didn’t respect me a week ago and I thought it was a joke… it was not.” He sighed and shook his head, hiding his eyes behind his hands in playful embarrassment and disappointment.
Shoko hummed, puckering out her bottom lip and nodded. “Hm.”
…
You sighed, palms pressing against your back as you scrunched up your face and slowly stepped down from the stairs of the jet. Grumbling and swatting away the hands of the man who had flown you out, he could've provided you a warning about how fast that flight was going to be! Besides, you wanted your husband to be the one helping you down, so you could complain to him about the flight and pout about him now being home for Christmas.
"That'smywife! That's my wife!" You heard a familiar voice call out, seeing a blur of white hair rushing towards you.
Something ugly and possessive bubbled up inside your heart. You hadn't seen him in months, you hadn't been able to touch your husband's hands, cheeks, nose, in months. You wanted to be pouty and make him beg for you to forgive him for not saving the world faster, but the tip of your nose was already starting to tingle. Your throat beginning to ache as something wet began to roll down your cheeks.
Teeth bit down into your plump bottom lip to steady your frantic emotions and onslaught of tears, as Satoru widened his eyes and bared his teeth awkwardly, approaching slower. Walking towards his wife like her heart was a ticking time bomb, one that would explode in tears if he wasn't tending to it with the gentlest hands. "Oh—… oh…" he held out his hands as if to calm you down.
An ugly sob tore threw your throat before you could stop it, lips curling into into a sad frown as you rushed up and threw yourself into his arms. Loudly hiccuping and sobbing with gasping for air, hands digging into his old shirt that had another lame chemistry joke written on it. Your heart tightened so painfully, the warmth from your husband's body seeped through your clothes, providing that comfort you hadn't felt for so long. Satoru gojo was a scientist, unfortunately he wasn't very good at diffusing the bombs that were his wife's emotions.
He pressed a soft kiss on the side of your head, nuzzling his cheek against your ear as his arms tightened around your body. Baby bump pressing against his abdomen, making it impossible for his heart to not beat faster. He only muttered two words, words that were meant and only heard by you on the busy landing strip. "…I'm here."
He couldn't even think of the fact that he would be leaving you within 24 hours, his heart and head only filled with thought of holding and talking to you.
His hand was soon leading you through the base, showing yo around where astrophage was still being tested on, where the astronauts were to be trained, where his main experimental area was and where his desk was. Focusing especially on his bedroom and his soundproof walls, while you were more concerned with his choice of clothing.
"See! This is the cool lab where i was testing astrophage and learning all about it," he smirked and pointed to the white, dimly lit lab through the safety window. His hand resting on your hip, chest pressed against your back as he was resting his chin on your shoulder. You had hummed and nodded, eyes focused on the reflection of your husband's face in the glass.
He moved on before noticing where you were staring. Onto the main large, cavernous space where there was multiple displays of astrophage and parts of the rockets being displayed and shown to different types of people.
"See! See! This is where I demonstrated how powerful astrophage was to all these new astronauts and scientists that were being added to the team," he gleamed and wriggled his eyebrows at you, brushing his hair back and pushing up his glasses like the nerd stereotype in anime.
White hair whipped in the air as he shook his head, posing like a model for you, very obviously fishing for compliments. "Isn't your husband soooo smart and hot? Stratt said I deserved lots of compliments and that my wife should reward me with kisses." You had narrowed your eyes, raising a doubtful eyebrow. "Did she say that or is my very smart and handsome husband asking for one?"
"…I have the right to remain silent," he looked away playfully, before breaking out into a sweet smile when he felt your lips press against his cheek and heard your little giggles.
His dorm room, the last stop, was your most critiqued place. While he was going on and on about how comfortable his bed was and how the walls were soundproof and how much tonight would be perfect for cuddling… you were busy analysing his closet. Mouth half agape as you were holding a grey, half faded shirt with the text print reading "if it moves, its biology / if it stinks, it's chemistry / if it doesn't work, it's physics 😂" Your eyes closed as you smiled, avoiding berating your husband for wearing such a shirt while having the build and looks of a Greek god.
"Are you listening?" He looked confused, already on the bed and holding a plastic rose between his teeth, waiting for you to turn around so that you could giggle and get flustered. Tomorrow was Christmas eve after all, he wanted to spend one last night with you, however you wanted it.
"I'm burning this shirt."
"WHAT!?"
…
Christmas eve.
The day you were supposed to spend with your husband, happy, safe, warm. With no worries about his safety, because you both were safe in that base, and he definitely wasn't leaving earth within a few hours or anything completely insane like that, right?
He sat you down gently, after walking you to Stratt's office. Eyes were on you all around, as you looked confused and uncomfortable. Suguru, Shoko, Stratt, and Colt were all there. "Is this some sort of tradition you guys have…? Singing a space song or something for me?" You muttered, weakly chuckling and offering a slight smile before looking down at gojo, who was kneeling in front of the seat, his hands on your baby bump.
"Y/n." He said softly, with a nervous swallow.
Your eyes began to narrow, a sinking feeling in your gut. Hands beginning to feel hot, your clothes too tight, hair brushing too uncomfortably against your forehead and neck, and a feeling of dread passing throughout your body. Nothing warm and holiday-like. "What? You're scaring me. Are we not spending today together?" You mumbled, voice getting quieter.
"Before—" He gulped, "Before i tell you what's going to happen, I just want you to know that I love you and I've always loved you," he nodded, making you slowly nod along.
A suspicious silence was filled across the cold room, the hands of your husband over the life you had both created started to feel more hot, more noticeable, as if he was burning up like a star doomed to explode. "Satoru, say it straight. I'm fine with us not spending today together—" you tried to smile, going along with a string of explanations in your head. Some part of you already knew what was going to happen. You weren't an idiot, you knew that people were supposed to leave earth and never return to collect evidence for whatever it was that astrophage couldn't infect Tau Ceti.
"Y/N… I won't be able to stay.." he sighed, hands moving to hold yours instead, as your expression began to grow more and more concerned and weary, slowly starting to realise what he was going to say. "No, no Satoru stop, I don't like this joke.." you shook your head, vision slowly blurring until you were unable to see his pretty blue eyes clearly.
"I'm leaving earth, today," he said softly, standing up to kiss your knuckles before moving to wipe the tears off of your cheeks.
You began to whine and sniffle, angry and frustrated tears rolling down your cheeks, fighting off his gentle hands. The silence in the room was deafening, the four other people looking away awkwardly, as Satoru had specifically asked them to be there to comfort and quell your worries. "S-stoppp! Stop lying to me! tell me you're lying!" your began to speak louder, hands shaking as your gaze whipped across the room, only to see the blatant truth written all over everyone's faces. Satoru's hands still not stopping in his gentle caresses as you spoke, "Geto… Shoko, why aren't you saying anything?" You snapped, voice weary and tired.
Hiccups beginning to surge up from your chest, as your eyes moved away from the couple who were awkwardly avoiding your gaze, looking down sadly. "Colt… Stratt, could you two please just be the voices of reason and tell him his jokes aren't funny?"
Satoru quickly shook his head and cupped your face, making your face him as he smiled, fighting back his tears to appear as the brave one. The husband you would need when you would face all those hardships of parenthood, tired and widowed. "no, no, no, no, baby please, just look—" his breath hitched when you whined and slapped his hands away, getting more upset and confused. "I didn't want to tell you like this, but we know that you'd fight if you found out any sooner, so—"
"—So you decided to tell me now? When all the decisions have been set in stone? When I can't fight for my husband's right to live?"
"it's not that simple, Mrs. Gojo," Stratt cut in, as Gojo sighed, thinking that this would've gone over quicker and easier. "Gojo wasn't even supposed to board the crew initially but… some setbacks," she paused upon, the three people in the room closing their eyes tightly in unison, all remembering the horrific accident that had killed Haibara and Nanami. "Caused for the delay in the launch, and Gojo is our best choice for the success."
Satoru pressed his lips together, trying to force a smile so that you could see him happy and understand that he was okay with the choice. "Hey, it'll be okay. You know I always want what's best for you and—"
"And what? Our daughter? Our daughter who's going to live a life without her father?" You cried, yelling at him and slapping his hands away from your face, standing up abruptly, even as his hands tried to steady you. "You didn't… you didn't tell me for so long, and you.." you gasped unable to even force the words part your throat. He sighed, tilting his head to the side, fighting back the tears, and trying to step forward to hug you. "I know baby, I know… but you'll get to live such a happy life, I can't—… I can't be selfish and stay with you, knowing that the mission won't have the same chances of success without me. I want you and our daughter to live such a long, happy, healthy life!"
You sobbed, slapping his hands away, muttering the words that finally made a crack in his exterior he had tried so hard to keep strong.
"I hate you! I hate you s-so much!" You cried, as shoko and suguru finally stepped forward, trying to calm you down and comfort you, their faces worried. Trying to tell you to not say things that you didn't mean. Shoko letting you hide your face against her shoulder.
"i mean it! I hate him! I h-hope he dies.." you sobbed, heart tearing apart, saying anything just to hurt Satoru, so that you could see and ounce of the pain on his face that he was causing on you and your poor heart. "Just go to space and die there! I won't miss such a terrible husband, just go to space and die since you don't want to be a father that much…" you hiccuped and sobbed on every word, hesitating, before slowly turning to see his face.
Through your blurry tears, you saw his pretty face. His trembling bottom lip, his glasses fogged up, and his pretty blue eyes all red. Tears rolling down the cheeks you used to kiss so softly. "She—she doesn't mean that," Suguru sighed and tried to step forward to comfort his best friend, before Satoru shook his head. Sniffling and using his sweater, one that you had gifted him a few years ago on your anniversary, to wipe his cheeks dry.
"I've dreamed, every single night, of raising our daughter with you." He confessed quietly, making you pout and cry more, regretting your hurtful words. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, my love." He was quick to leave, as stratt hesitated for the first time, before following after him and Colt.
You blinked confused, head spinning and staring at the empty space your husband had been standing in.
"b-but he's scared of flying..?" You sniffled and quickly looked between suguru and shoko. Little gasps escaping your lips as you started to understand what was really happening. "Is he leaving now..?"
Shoko shook her head, stepping away from you to grab a few tissues from Stratt's desk, before walking back to dry your wet cheeks. "He is… that's why he's going to be sedated a few hours before the launch. He'll wake up in space." Your eyes widened, heart beginning to thumb faster inside your body. "The crew has been doing preparations all night… it's set for takeoff today." Suguru nodded to you grimly, your head snapping to his at his words.
"I was… i was so mean to him," you sniffled, breathing more quickly and shortening your breaths, beginning to push and fight off Shoko and Suguru's comforting hands. "I didn't even say I love him!"
You broke free from their grasp, being 5 months pregnant didn't mean you were some fragile doll that couldn't even walk. You ran out of the room quickly, not stopping and running through the hall you'd seen Satoru take, just in case you had to go through some high security chase scene like in the movies. Fortunately for you, Shoko and Suguru had used their access to tell Security that it was okay for me to run after Satoru and Stratt.
Pushing through the doors, you quickly searched for Satoru in the long cavernous area that was housing the rocket underground. Your e/c eyes quickly found that familiar glimpse of white hair, and you didn't hesitate, running after him quickly.
He was almost tackled to the ground when you hugged him, sobbing into his back, "ACK—" coming out of his mouth, before he recognised your voice and arms. Turning quickly, his red eyes met your, equally red eyes. "What… what are you doing here? You should be with Suguru and Shoko, love—" he was mid sentence, before you shut his rambling up with a kiss. Soft lips pressing onto his ones, he could taste the salt of your tears, but didn't hesitate to quickly hold the back of your head and kiss you back. Gently moving his lips against yours before pulling away.
"I-I'm sorry… I was so mean to you," you shook your head in unison with his, sobbing and hugging him tightly.
He was struggling to not cry along with you, only a few tears escaping his waterline and making a slow descend on his rosy cheeks. "I know love, I know," he planted a soft kiss on top of your head. Nuzzling his face against your hair. "I l-love you.. so much, a-and that won't ever change, even when you're in space," you sniffled and sobbed into his chest, hands holding onto his sweater so tightly. Trying to remember the smell of him, the smell of love.
"I love you too," he whispered against your hair, holding you tightly, rocking you gently in his arms, as both your hearts were beating in sync. Soft, slow, melodic. Accepting the inevitable.
"I'll make sure to raise our daughter so that she knows how brave her daddy was, a-and how much he loved her," you sniffled, burrowing your head further against his chest as if to make a cocoon of safety. He nodded against your hair, arms gently rubbing up and down against your back, keeping your warm, as if to silently tell you that you were safe. "You'll be an amazing mother, and you were the perfect wife." He whispered softly.
"You would have been an amazing father." A silence took over you both, knowing the separation was looming upon you both.
…
It was weird, sitting on the grass, a safe distance away from the take off sight, sitting on the grass calmly while knowing you were never going to see your husband again.
Your eyes glazed over the sunset, before you watched over the rocket again. As Shoko was rubbing your back gently and comfortingly. "We'll both take care of you, don't worry. You're basically family. Satoru's made us so close to you," shoko was talking, but you couldn't pay attention to any of it, as you saw the flicker of light, and the smoke beginning to gas up on the floor.
Your eyes widened when you watched the rocket break off from the floor, launching off into the sky gracefully, and successfully making it high enough past the atmosphere in just a matter of minutes.
Something inside you broke, an ugly sob escaping your mouth, as you began to sob into your hands. He was gone. your husband, the love of your life, the man who had promised to renew vows with you every decade and kiss your tears away every night, would never see you again. You'd never have a hand to hold, you'd never get to hear his voice again, you'd never get to see your husband again.
Shoko and Geto were quick to try and comfort you through their own tears, but you were swirling in your own grief. Womb, heart, chest, everything beginning to ache. You missed him so much, already. You didn't think that you'd ever move on, ever learn to love another man again. Then your breath hitched, eyes quickly darting up to the vastness expanse of space above you.
You had forgotten to tell him that you loved his shirts.
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