#satoru x reader

[voxslut3434]

abc for a healthy, albeit a little intense relationship (geto)

123 for toxic but equally as intense relationship (gojo)

[atinyaura]

i'll be your man (if you let me)

pairing: gojo x reader

in which the campus' certified popular guy desperately wants to be your guy.

except, you couldn't care less about him.

(or he randomly saw you with his childhood friend shoko at the bleachers across the field and decided he wants to insert himself in your world)

**disclaimer all photos are from pinterest!

part three: y/n is a magnolia in may apparently

**written portion ahead!

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satoru scans the opposite bleachers for any sign of his 'diaper friend' shoko, squinting through his round shades. he immediately scowls when he spots the other diaper friend of his (suguru) snickering from his seat before flipping him off.

he sighs, accepting the fact that he is insane, overdressed, and is, in fact, a loser for sitting at this deserted zone of the bleachers when it has been a known fact that the other zone is the preferred spot for all, thus his mission of finding his soulmate here today is yet another failure.

or so he thought.

just when shoko and his friend finally come to view, satoru lets out an exaggerated gasp, eyes as wide as saucers at the sight of what he can only describe as an unreal, otherworldly woman.

'is that the love of my life?!' satoru thinks to himself, his heart rate picking up and it's the only thing he can register as he openly gawks from across the field.

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satoru watches with frustrated eyes as his friend obviously ignores his notifications. his eyes then dart to you and shoko who are taking your time to greet some other people on your way to your seats.

with an annoyed whine, he calls suguru. he watches as the black haired finally checks his phone. he can already hear his sigh in the way his shoulders visibly slump and the deadpanned look on his face.

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a/n: idek if this is good but i suppose having fun is what matters lmao hope this series cheers u up a bit somewhat^^

comment on this post to join taglist!

taglist: @whotfisaba @mrskamikazekaito @izumkay @cl3xr @taelattecookie @naxinomi @raccoonlover-11 @ioveariaa @changbinsalonsblog @signofsaigon

[islaflix]

　　　　　　 𝗦𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗛 𝗔 𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗬

𓏲 　 　 ۫　 　 In which 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 is a petty man, ignoring you over an arugment aftermath.. Not realizing it was just a huge misunderstanding— between the two of you.　 𓂅⁩　

　　#𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗙𝗟𝗜𝗫 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦　I'm fs making a pt for smut cause I need satoru on his knees apologizing asap 🧘🏽‍♀️

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 　Content warnings　angst/w comfort　fluff (?)　ft shoko　arugment　silent treatment　 mischaracterization on gojo kindaa　smut on pt2??　misunderstandings　husband!satoru　wife!reader

God, you absolutely hated the silent treatment— and you know damn well satoru gojo does as well! But this man is so fucking petty, hed rather ignore you for days on end, instead of talking about his problems.

Okay look, the argument started over something not that deep at all— or it was to you, but not deep enough for ignorance.

You'd tried talking to him about how he never lets you know what's happening while he's on his missions, you understood— and still do understand he's not able to say everything..

But for gods sake you're a sorcerer as well.

Maybe it's because you're a Kyoto Jujutsu High sorcerer, and maybe he just doesnt wanna say anything because of that.. Or at least that's what you told yourself weeks before having the argument that spiralled into Satoru being mad over.

Satoru ended up yelling at you for basically no reason, saying that it's not his fault you're overthinking everything, as if he doesn't also overthink everything that he can't tell you every time he's on a mission or busy.

And fuck you for trying to understand his reasonings, well, thats what shoko had told you once you came to her crying about the whole situation after he yelled at you.

But the next day after the argument when you tried talking about it again, he ignored you.

Which.. It was strange, since usually he'd try to work through whatever problems the two of you were having. But right now he wasn't?

Though, it's whatever, maybe he's just tired, granted the two of you just woke up but that's besides the point here.

A few hours later though, when he came back from teaching Tokyo Jujutsu High, you tried to bring it up once again. Yet he ignored you again, and fuck, you hated that.

Just realizing how silent it'd been the whole day, I mean usually in the mornings— even after an argument he's loud, probably blasting music in the shower, or watching a shitty romcom to cope with his sadness after the argument.

But none of that.

You walked over to his standing form in the kitchen, he's eating mochi which is something he always eats, so definitely not a clone or something like that.

“What's wrong toru?” you murmured, keeping your voice low but enough for him to hear you. “...” no answer. You're so tired of no answer, grabbing his shoulder to make him face you, yet he turned his head away— avoiding your eyes.

“For a man who stares death like it's nothing, you're being a huge pussy right now satoru. I'm your wife for fucks sake, look at me.”

You cried out, the stress of silence from the past somewhat 3 days getting to you. Satoru sighed, not wanting to clearly but he couldn't say no as he turned his face down to look at you.

“Why are you ignoring me? I-I don't understand what's up with you. Silence, radio fucking silent for the past 3 days? Really?” you asked, tears starting to form in your watchful eyes, as they darted to his lips back to his eyes.

“...I dont..you said you hate me, t-that you’d divorce me..” he let out, voice choking on the word divorce, despite the fact you'd told him early on in the relationship, that you'd never do that.

“...”

You're confused, it was clear that you are, from the tilt of your head. Is what satoru thought.

“I heard you, on the phone. With shoko.” he paused for a moment to look away.

“You said you hate me, our relationship. I thought that if.. If I didn't speak, maybe you couldn't. Couldn't leave me. Like everyone else.” His voice continued to crack, tears falling down his beautiful face.

While you just stood there, trying to think back to what you'd said, because you'd never say those things.. Not in a million years! What you could remember was…

“I can't be with someone who can't communicate with me” you paused, tears falling down your face, as you hiccuped every few seconds.

“It's exhausting shoko.. I hate it, fuck, I hate it so much..” pausing once again, longer this time, which is probably when satoru left from eavesdropping.

“But it's him, it's fucking satoru gojo.. He loves me, and I love him in every way. The way he smiles when I laugh, or the way he'd do absolutely anything for me..”

“I just, I don't know, it's hard sometimes. But it's worth it, you know?”

Soo now you see where he could've thought that..

You chuckled, not meaning to of course since it was a serious situation, but you couldn't help it.“You really thought I'd say that toru? Silly boy.” you giggled, which made him turn his head back to you, his tears drying on his face alongside your tears.

You explained the whole thing to him, which made him freeze, you didn't see that a lot. The look of embarrassment on his face made you giggle even more.

“Fuck… I'm sorry baby.” 

“Uh huh.. You know how you can make up for it?” you teased a little, placing your hand on his chest, while the other slid up to his neck.

“What about the argument? I mean, we should talk about it, right?” he hesitated a bit, which wasn't common but who cares- placing his hand on your waist despite that fact.

“We will, I'm still mad about that.. Just later.”

[6x-x9]

“𝒴𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥” · 𝓖.𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑼 ·

𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚄 has a nightmare and wakes up panicking. You hold him through all of it. 𖹭

𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇. ꒰ 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⋮⋮ comfort ⋮⋮ canon jjk ꒱

It happens in the middle of the night.

The room is dark except for the thin spill of city light through the curtains. You wake to the sound of his breathing. It's ragged, uneven, the bed is trembling, and the air's charged like a curse has settled in the walls. You sit up instantly, still tangled in your sheets, and find him curled at the edge of the mattress, back to you, hands gripping the sides of his head like he’s trying to press a nightmare out of his skull.

“Satoru,” you whisper softly, already reaching for him.

He flinches when your hand brushes his shoulder.

“I—I can’t,” he gasps. “I don’t—fuck, I don’t know where I am.” His voice is smaller than you've ever known it to be. He sounds so scared.

You slide closer to him.

His whole body is shaking. Sweat clings to his back, and when he turns to look at you, his eyes have gone a pale blue, wide and frightened— not like those of Gojo Satoru, strongest sorcerer alive. But like a boy who’s just watched the world fall apart in his sleep.

The sight of him like this pulls something tight and aching under your ribs. You have seen him cocky, careless, and brilliant, but you've never seen him look this lost.

“It was you,” he says, like he’s confessing something unspeakable. “It was you, and you were gone, and I couldn’t— I couldn’t find you—”

“Hey,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks, trying to get him to steady his vision back on you. Slowly, his gaze focuses on your eyes. “Hey, sweetheart, breathe. I’m right here.”

Your thumbs stroke over the sharp lines of his cheekbones. His skin is damp and fever-warm, and he leans into your touch like it’s the first solid thing he’s felt in hours.

“I tried calling for you,” he whispers, his voice breaking, the more he tries to get it out. “But my voice wouldn’t come out. It was like— I was trapped in a dream where you never existed, and I was the only one who remembered you and fuck—”

The words crack open at the end. His breath stutters once. You feel the fine tremor running through him from shoulders to wrists.

You pull him tight into your arms, and this time, he doesn’t flinch. He clings to you with a desperation you’ve never felt from him before. His forehead presses to the curve your neck, arms wrapping around your waist like you’re all there's left to anchor him.

The weight of him settles against you. Heavy and real. You can feel every rapid beat of his heart where his chest meets yours.

“You’re okay,” you whisper. “You’re okay, baby. It was just a dream.”

His voice is wrecked. “But it felt real.”

Your hand slides up to the back of his head, cradling him. Fingers sink into soft white hair still messy from sleep. You hold him there, steady, while his breathing scrapes in and out against the side of your throat.

You rock him a little without meaning to. Small, slow movements meant to soothe. His grip on you only tightens.

“I’m real. I’m right here.”

He holds you tighter, his voice is more sound and clear now, “You’re the only thing that feels real.”

The rawness of his voice makes the words splinter something inside you.

You lie back against the pillows, tugging him with you, settling him over your chest. His hair is damp. His breaths are still uneven. But you keep running your fingers down his spine, whispering his name over and over like prayer.

The sheets have twisted around both of you now. One of his knees is hooked over your thigh. His cheek rests right above your heart, and you can feel the way he turns his face inward just slightly so he can hear the steady thump of it clearer.

You keep talking. Soft-nonsense. His name. "You’re here. You’re safe." Over and over until the worst of the shaking starts to ease.

His fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt and stay there. He doesn’t try to pull away. Doesn’t try to joke or brush it off the way he usually does when anything gets too close to the soft-soaked center of him.

You press your lips to the top of his head and leave them there. Just breathing him in. Laundry soap and warm skin and the faint salt of sweat.

Minutes stretch. The panic in his body slowly loosens its hold. His breathing deepens by degrees. The rigid line of his shoulders softens under your hands.

And he falls asleep like that— curled on top of you, cheek pressed to your heart, as if your pulse is the only thing strong enough to pull him out of whatever darkness still haunts him.

And before he slips under again, you hear him murmur—

“Don’t ever leave.”

You press a kiss to his temple.

“Never.” You whisper assuringly.

You stay awake a little longer just to be sure. Watching the slow rise and fall of his back. Feeling the way his weight sinks heavier into you as sleep finally takes him all the way under.

Outside the window, the city keeps its usual restless rhythm. Inside the room, everything has gone quiet again. Soft and a little bit safer.

You keep one hand moving in slow strokes along his spine. The other rests lightly over the back of his neck, fingers intertwining with the short fluffy strands of his undercut at the nape, gently twirling and petting it.

He sleeps without dreams this time. Or if he dreams, they don’t reach him hard enough to wake him.

You close your eyes only when you’re certain he’s truly settled. The last thing you feel is the steady press of his cheek against your chest and the quiet certainty that neither of you will be apart from each other.

[6x-x9]

“𝒴𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞” · 𝒢.𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑼 ·

𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚄 tries dating someone new to distract himself. It lasts less than two days. 𖹭

𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇. ꒰ 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⋮⋮ canon jjk ꒱

It’s Shoko who calls you first.

The phone buzzes against the kitchen counter while you’re staring at a half-eaten bowl of cereal gone soggy. You almost ignore it. Almost, but habit wins, and you do pick up.

"He's being weird,” she says, biting off a yawn, cigarette smoke curling lazily from her lips. “Weirder than usual. He brought some girl to dinner last night.”

You blink. “Oh.”

The word comes out small. Flat. Like it doesn’t belong in your mouth.

“She laughed like a goose and called him ‘Toru-bear’ and wore a shirt that said ‘Boss Babe.’” Shoko pauses. “You, understandably, weren’t there. So I had to suffer alone.”

“Sorry.” You almost sounded sincere.

“Don’t apologize. He should be apologizing. It was pitiful.”

You try not to let it get to you. You try not to think about how it felt, because just three nights ago, when he kissed you so soft and said, “You make everything quiet,” like it was a confession, like it hurt to say it, when the words left his lips...

And, now he’s… dating?

Trying?

Moving on?

Your chest aches, but you smile through it. “Maybe he just needs to figure some stuff out.”

Shoko exhales. “You’ve ruined him. You know that, right?”

You laugh. It sounds brittle and slightly amused. “I don’t think I’m that powerful.”

“You are,” she says dryly. “I watched this man— this man who used to brag about how hot girls lined up for him after missions— literally panic when his dinner date tried to kiss him.”

Your heart flips. “What?”

“He flinched,” she confirms. “Like, full-body jolted. Said, and I quote, ‘Sorry, I’m just not used to someone else’s face being that close. It feels wrong.’”

You’re stunned into silence.

Then: “He said it felt wrong?”

“Mhm.” A long pause fills the space for a moment. “And then he left. Mid-date. Suguru watched him walk outside and immediately call your number. You didn’t answer, did you?”

You hadn’t.

You’d seen his name light up your screen and tucked your phone under your pillow, heart hammering, unsure what you were even to him now.

That night, he left you a voicemail.

You hadn’t listened to it.

Not until now.

You pull it up after exchanging goodbyes with Shoko. Hands trembling, and you press play.

“Hey,” his voice murmurs. There’s a sharp exhale. “I know you probably don’t wanna talk to me. That’s fair.”

Theres a second of silence...

“I thought… maybe I needed to know what it would be like. To be with someone who isn’t you. To see if I could want something else. And I can’t.”

He laughs, soft and its self-deprecating.

“I couldn’t even hold her hand without thinking about the way you tuck yours under mine like it’s automatic. Couldn’t sit across from her without hearing your voice in my head telling me to chew slower because I eat like a gremlin.”

You close your eyes, breath shallow.

“You’ve ruined me, sweetheart,” he whispers .“And I think I’d let you do it a thousand times over.”

The message fizzles out to an abrupt end.

You stand there in the quiet kitchen, phone still pressed to your ear like the sound of him might come back if you just wait long enough.

Your pulse is loud in your throat.

You don’t think— you just go.

Keys. Shoes. The door slamming behind you hard enough that the frame rattles.

The night air hits your face. Cool and sharp because it's 10pm and you're running. You don’t remember deciding to run but your feet are already moving, pavement blurring under you, streetlights smearing gold across your vision.

Every step feels like it’s carving something open in your chest.

Three nights ago his mouth had been so careful against yours. Three nights ago he’d breathed against your temple like the whole world had gone soft just for the two of you. Three nights ago he’d looked at you like you were the only solid thing left.

And then he’d tried to date someone else.

Tried.

Failed so completely that Shoko called it pitiful.

You don’t slow down until you’re outside his building. The code for the gate is still muscle memory. The stairs take forever and no time at all.

You reach his door.

Knock once.

Twice.

The lock clicks.

He opens the door looking like a kicked puppy— eyes wide, hoodie sleeves too long, heart cracked open.

For a second, neither of you moves.

Then you don’t say a word— just throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest.

He holds you like he never wants to let go again.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m so— sorry.”

“I’m not,” you whisper back.

You lean up.

Kiss him like he’s the only person in the world worth knowing.

Like he belongs to you.

Because he does.

His mouth is warm and a little desperate under yours. One of his hands slides up into your hair, the other locking around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip even a fraction.

You feel the way his chest rises and falls too fast against yours. You feel the tiny tremor in his fingers.

When you finally pull back just enough to breathe, his forehead rests against yours.

“I hated it,” he says, voice low and rough. “Every second of it. She kept talking and all I could hear was you. She touched my arm and it felt like static. Wrong frequency. Wrong everything.”

You don’t answer with words. You just kiss him again, slower this time, tasting the apology still sitting on his tongue.

He walks you backward into the apartment without breaking the kiss. The door clicks shut behind you. Somewhere a lamp is on, casting soft gold across the floor. His place smells like the laundry detergent he always uses and the faint citrus of the cleaner he pretends he doesn’t buy just because you once said you liked it.

He presses you gently against the wall by the entryway. Not hard. Just enough that you can feel how solid he is, how carefully he’s holding himself back.

“I kept thinking about the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Like I’m something worth keeping. She looked at me like I was a prize she’d already won. I couldn’t stand it.”

Your hands fist in the front of his hoodie. The fabric is soft from too many washes. You know every loose thread.

“I shouldn’t have gone,” he says. “I knew the second I sat down across from her that I’d made a mistake. But I stayed. Like an idiot. Like maybe if I just forced it hard enough it would start feeling right.”

You tip your head so your lips brush the corner of his jaw. “Did it?”

“Not even close.”

He kisses you again, deeper, and you let him. Let the heat of it pull everything else out of focus until there’s only the two of you and the quiet apartment and the way his body fits against yours like it was designed for exactly this.

When he finally draws back there’s a flush high on his cheeks. His eyes are bright in a way that has nothing to do with residual cursed energy and everything to do with you.

“Stay,” he says. Not a question.

You nod.

He takes your hand the way he always does, fingers sliding between yours like they belong there and leads you further inside.

The couch is still a mess of throw pillows from the last time you were here. One of your hair ties sits on the coffee table. Evidence of a life that never quite stopped belonging to both of you even when you tried to pretend otherwise.

He sits first and pulls you into his lap without ceremony. You go willingly, knees bracketing his hips, arms looping around his neck.

For a long moment you just look at each other.

Then he starts talking again, quieter, like the words have been waiting behind his teeth for days.

“She ordered something with cilantro and I almost told her you hate cilantro. Almost said it out loud. Like my mouth forgot who I was sitting with.”

You brush a strand of white hair off his forehead. “You left mid-date.”

“Yeah.” A short, self-conscious laugh. “Suguru gave me the look. You know the one. The ‘you’re an idiot and I love you but also please stop’ look. I walked outside and called you before I even thought about it. Needed to hear your voice. Needed to know you still existed in the same world as me.”

You remember the way your phone had lit up. The way you’d shoved it under the pillow like that could protect either of you from whatever this was becoming.

“I listened to the voicemail,” you tell him.

His arms tighten around you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Silence settles for a few heartbeats. Comfortable. Heavy with everything neither of you has said yet.

Then he leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your neck, soft and lingering.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it properly,” he murmurs against your skin. “That you’re it for me. That nothing else even comes close. That I tried to prove myself wrong and only proved the opposite.”

You tilt your head to give him more room. His mouth follows the line of your throat with careful, deliberate attention.

“You don’t have to figure it out,” you say. “Just keep showing up.”

He pulls back enough to meet your eyes. There’s something open and a little raw in his expression.

“I will. Every time. Even when I’m being an idiot about it.”

You kiss him for that. Slow. Thorough. The kind of kiss that says you already knew and you’re still choosing him anyway.

His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, palms warm against your waist. Not demanding. Just anchoring you to the present.

You feel the way his breathing changes when your fingers find the nape of his neck and scratch lightly the way he likes.

“Stay the night,” he says again, quieter this time. Almost a plea.

“I’m already here.”

He smiles against your mouth. The real one. The one that softens everything about him until he looks almost young again.

“Good.”

Later, when the apartment has gone fully dark except for the city glow through the windows, you end up tangled together on the couch under a blanket that smells like both of you. His heartbeat is steady under your ear. One of his hands keeps tracing idle patterns along your spine like he can’t quite stop touching you now that you’re close again.

“Shoko’s going to give me so much shit for this,” he says eventually, voice drowsy.

You huff a quiet laugh. “She already did. Called the whole thing pitiful.”

“She’s not wrong.”

You press a kiss to the center of his chest through the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“I don’t care if it was pitiful,” you tell him. “I’m glad you figured it out.”

His arms tighten around you one more time.

“Me too,” he whispers. “God. Me too.”

Outside, the city keeps moving. Inside, everything is quiet the way it only ever is when it’s the two of you.

And for the first time in days, it feels like enough.

[digimonlover]

texts w streamer!jo

a/n; established relationship, may continues this in multiple parts OR turn it into a series innit. Lmk whatchu want guys x

Tags; n/a @vanillaacreams

[tearsmisv]

you've been waiting for satoru to come home for what felt like forever. the moment he got home, you didn’t even give him time to hang his coat.

you hooked your hands around him and practically demanded, “sit down.”

satoru blinked. “whatcha’ up to now?”

before he could answer, you climbed onto his lap and made yourself comfortable like you belonged there. like you’d been waiting all day. he froze for a second—then his hands hovered awkwardly, unsure whether he was allowed to touch you yet.

“hey—why are you acting so—”

he didn’t get to finish.

you grabbed his blindfold and ripped it off his face, like it had personally wronged you. the movement was so fast satoru barely had time to react. his hair fell into place, and then—those bright blue eyes were there, fully uncovered.

for a moment, he looked almost startled.

then his expression softened, concern creeping in. “baby… did i do something?”

you didn’t answer right away. you just stared—steady, intense, like you were really inspecting him. like you were checking something important.

satoru swallowed. “uh… are you mad at me?”

“no,” you finally said, voice quiet but certain. you leaned closer, meeting his gaze like a promise. “have i told you how much i love your eyes?”

his shoulders loosened, and you could almost see him realize he wasn’t in trouble. he let out a small laugh, then tried to grin like everything was normal.

“yes,” he said gently, looking at you like he adored you. “you have, sweetheart.”

[atinyaura]

i'll be your man (if you let me)

pairing: gojo x reader

in which the campus' certified popular guy desperately wants to be your guy.

except, you couldn't care less about him.

(or he randomly saw you with his childhood friend shoko at the bleachers across the field and decided he wants to insert himself in your world)

**disclaimer all photos are from pinterest!

part two: satoru takes three hours to dress up

**written portion ahead!

‧₊˚✧ ✧˚₊‧

suguru pockets his phone, nudging satoru's side as they resume their journey. "come on, hime said it's field 2. also shoko's here."

satoru in his ridiculously overdressed attire only hums, hands in his pockets as he follows his best friend towards the bleachers. he grins, "think i'll get a lady here today?"

suguru rolls his eyes, giving his friend a judgemental side eye.

"doubt it."

the white haired scoffs, playfully shoving his friend. "you know what, i'll be sitting at the opposite side of the field so i won't be bitchless by the end of the day sitting next to you."

before his friend can come up with a retort, satoru's already scurrying off to the green bleachers on the opposite side of the baseball field with a loud, dramatic 'woooo!'. suguru rolls his eyes again, climbing into the ones with blue seats.

he spots a comical scene of his friend sitting alone in a sea of green empty seats from across the field and snickers, pulling out his phone to get a photo.

meanwhile, shoko's with you right outside the field, having stepped out to get some snacks from a student stall. "my loser friends are here," mumbles shoko around a crabstick.

you gave her a brief glance, pulling out some bills to pay for the food. "your diaper friends?"

the med student snickers. "yeah actually. i honestly don't know why they bother. one of 'em allegedly hates utahime with a passion. who's ironically also the one putting effort to dress up today. though he is usually over the top like that."

you hold back from making a face. "how can anyone hate utahime? is this the one with strange hair?"

shoko nods, following you back to the field with snacks in arms.

"yeah he's a menace. i feel sorry for whoever ends up with him."

you hum, letting her words drift away with the wind.

not knowing what lies ahead of you.

‧₊˚✧ ✧˚₊‧

a/n: since its my first work, i feel kinda excited so im posting two parts tonight^^

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