Latest Posts by katsukijo - Page 6

gojo satoru x reader || hogwarts au (18+)

wonderwall chp.6 unravelling whispers

✼pairing: hogwarts au - slytherin!gojo x ravenclaw!reader

✼summary: gojo satoru, the golden boy of a famous family lineage of wizards sets his sights on you, a half blood defying his pureblood morals. he makes it a goal in his life to make yours a living hell. years of endless pestering, teasing and rivalry stretching out. as times goes on, he finds himself thinking about you more than he isn’t. he grows torn between his family’s beliefs and the forbidden ache tickling his chest whenever he sees you

✼meaning: wonderwall - the person you cannot stop thinking about (song by oasis)

✼genre/tags: hogwarts au, female reader, strangers to enemies/sort of academic rivals to forbidden lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut, pining and yearning (mostly gojo), built up tension, teasing, bickering and pestering, jealousy, slightly spoiled gojo, obsessed and lovesick gojo, both are pretty oblivious to their feelings

✼warnings: discrimination, death, grief, shitty parents, light bullying, mentions of hook ups, sexual topics, family pressure and trauma, mentions of injuries and violence, degradation, mentions of political views, escalating political situation, lgbtq representation, cheating

✼word count: 10.9k

✼chapter: 6/?

a/n: hii! hope you’re enjoying the story so far. for some reason this chapter was the hardest one to come up with cause i had to do a lot of thinking and planning as it’s kinda critical for where the story will go lol, but i think i got it now. my graduation process is starting soon though:< next week i am doing the first part, it’s similar to an essay (one in my native language, second in english) so not entirely sure how much time i will have. this chapter is a bit longer so lemme know if u mind;)

based on this // previous chapter // next chapter (pending…)

˚⟡˖ ࣪: link to playlist

˚⟡˖ ࣪: link to vision-board

Things shifted since the attack took place during the Quidditch World Cup. People’s anxiety skyrocketed and hush of whispers started swirling through the wizarding world. Rumours spread like a plague, and who was to distinguish the truth from false accusations? It was unknown whenever what people have been gossiping about was actually something to worry about or not. It had you on edge and the majority of population as well. You had a first seat at watching the situation unfold due to your mother’s position. Meetings were held, discussing the events of the warm July night, when the Death Eaters appeared and robbed fellow wizards of life. It was unclear what the goal of their attack was. To the Ministry of Magic and to everyone else. Most of the members who initiated the terror only escaped Azkaban the previous night, the news of it reaching The Daily Prophet days later. The government didn’t want to cause a mayhem of panic, because they didn’t particularly know how it might’ve happened. How they let it happen. But they couldn’t hold the information private for long at the end of the day. It would only escalate the situation.

Elections are also itching closer day by day as spring is couple of months away and their turn out will most definitely determine the future. Multiple parties enrolled in participating, nonetheless, it comes down to simply two of them which have a real chance at winning.

The liberals against the conservatives. As it always have been.

If the conservatives would win in the spring, which isn’t an unrealistic scenario, the world would be send spiralling centuries back in time. That would reserve in lawful precautions concerning those who have already committed the “crime” of marriage with a muggle or those wizards born into muggle families.

As much as the popularity of the conservative party didn’t start out promisingly, they managed to transform their somewhat unimpressive start into a worthy competition against the liberal party over the years due to their clandestine campaign. One which started the summer before your fifth year, in the muggle born while you were strolling down the street with your father by your side, completely unbeknownst to what was yet to come.

And of course, the Gojo’s have to have their fill in all of it. Since the conservative’s views stand for the pureblood utopia, the very first brick of the ideal beliefs, they are hooked onto the party and many others as well.

At first, when the speculations about the Death Eaters regrouping seized the daylight in your sixth year, people casted the possibility aside.

Out of fear.

Well, they clearly shouldn’t have.

The attack proved it, and with that a gnawing sensation that the conservative party and the Death Eaters might be connected swallowed you during the break and spat you out totally spent, frightened at the image.

It sparked more suspicion in your system. You haven’t had a proper peaceful day since you returned home from the tournament. You wrote to Arabella back and forth, recalling the circumstances of your shared weekend. It was impossible to stop wondering, especially if the white haired wizard you grew to hate over the years could possibly be involved. A mixture of thoughts courses throughout your mind. A part of you hopes he isn’t responsible for anything. For his own good, but given his family name — it was never not a possibility.

The situation somewhat concerns you, for the sake of your mother and friends at least. You can’t comprehend people are actually considering voting for the party, so many of them too. It baffles you. Their stupidity and apathy for those who weren’t as fortunate to be born into wizarding families, or to those who have been struck by an arrow of love and chose to marry a muggle.

The world is on the verge of undeniable change, put simply.

For the better or for the worse?

That is yet to be decided.

Your mother distinctly refuses to share anything with you which angers you, because it feels like she is discarding you. On the other hand, it’s understandable. However, the situation is taking a significant tool on her and you simply wanted to offer her a shoulder to rest on.

Overall, you respect her decision to stay professional about it though, and haven’t spoken of the night ever again. Unless she questioned you for details.

You know you should probably be glad, yet, something can’t let you have peace. And as if all of that isn’t enough, your father’s health went downhill and the political situation sadly keeps your mother from going abroad with him. To support him during his treatment. Otherwise, her position would be put at great risk. The conservatives would be willing to sacrifice anything to get your mother out of the office and place someone of their own as the Auror.

Another thing which the conservatives wished for, was to take after Hogwarts and replace the headmaster with someone who wouldn’t be against filling the young wizards with their dangerous poison.

Exchanging the headmaster would mean Hogwarts would never be the same again.

Even though you guessed your idea of leaving with your father would be out of the question, you asked anyway. Your father was flattered, a warm hue of affection captivating his chest at your generosity. Of course he declined and your mother scolded you, reminding you of all your responsibilities here at home.

School, right. You have to finish it.

Still, as you bid a goodbye to your father at the train station, when he was leaving, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and a overbearing sense that something is wrong.

For Satoru Gojo the world’s situation isn’t a mystery at all. His mind isn’t being flooded with numerous of possibilities, he knows the structure of plans for the future. The moment his childhood dissolved and adulthood struck, his destiny was sealed. Since the moment his eyes fluttered open as he was born into this world, simply one thing was sought from him. To follow. Follow his family’s footsteps and submerge into whatever deal that is considered to be in alignment with their views.

He didn’t have a choice. Not really.

It was the summer before your fifth year, or was it before the fourth? He couldn’t exactly remember. All he knows is that it was the one, when he saw you for the first time outside of the school’s walls. He and his family were headed to that stupid meeting held in the muggle world. Back then, he had no idea what the outcome of it would be like. Initially it was meant to stay at low number of supporters, however, his father’s cunning and constructed ways spread the news carefully, avoiding The Ministry until he allowed it to come to the surface as a shocking blow.

And indeed a blow it was.

Satoru didn’t see any future in his father’s ideas in then beginning, he didn’t put any hopes into his chances of success as it wasn’t something he necessarily cared for. Even now, it’s not something he’s necessarily fond of. He oh so desperately wanted the approval of his father and joining his party was the easiest way to achieve it, he didn’t think there would be consequences such as bizarre. In spite of that, it took him by a chokehold, when the numbers outgrew even his father’s expectations over the upcoming years. He can’t back down now, he is glued to the plan and has a place established in the party.

And as a member, he has to serve and prove his dedication as everyone else. The start of his descent into the abyss of darkness started out at the start of summer break. Last one before your journeys at Hogwarts will be finished.

It was the first summer he enjoyed. Or at least the start of it. Seeing you over that small duration of the weekend woke something within him. It didn’t come all at once, like some dramatic revelation. There was no sudden, gasping realization, no cinematic montage of every moment leading up to it. It was quieter than that, it was subtle — like the tide coming in.

Not new, not sudden.

Just something that had been waiting there all along, patient and steady, until he was finally ready to see it.

And what he did see, he tried to cowardly push it away throughout the entire weekend, regardless of how strong the urge to be near you had him twitching. He wasn’t there for you after all. He had a mission to accomplish, creating an opening for the Death Eaters to crash the tournament unnoticed. They truly joined the conservative party lead by his father, they were one of the first to do so. His father also being responsible for the escape of the Azkaban prisoners.

Satoru scanned over the terror, when his job was successfully done. A sudden regret spiked through him, eyes gliding as guilty gagged him.

And it was barely the start.

Originally, he was instructed to come straight home afterwards, leaving everyone behind. Yet, a worry that you might’ve been hurt or worse acted for him. The white haired starlet caused himself an injury, covering up anything which could paint him suspicious in your eyes and went straight to the hill, where he was met with the image of you and Arabella. Immense relief wrapped around him.

The realisation of the effect you had on him scared him out of his mind. He contemplated a lot and proceeded to shove his feelings back into the depths of his existence, locking them away behind an unyielding wall of duty. Regret, fear, longing — none of it matters. His family must come first. Always. Whatever part of him protests, it’s ignored, buried where it can’t interfere with his role.

Maybe one day, he’ll dig it back up. Maybe. But not any time soon.

Or at least that’s what he thought. Because now, as he pushes through the long hallway of the train, full of cabins bustling with joyful laughter as students fill each other in on their summer experience, uncertainty devours him. He and his friends came too late to find seats somewhere near each other, because most cabins are already filled to the brim. So his eyes scan each cabin he passes, looking for a place to sit during his last ride to the castle, and partially to capture a glimpse of you.

Eventually, he does manage to stumble across a free seat in the back of the train. And as he steps inside, he’s immediately hit with a sway of plums and jasmine dragging up his nostrils. The smell so familiar that it doesn’t take him long to label it, even before his sense registered your presence seated in the window seat, he knew. A smell, which stuck to him and one he can’t seem to get rid of due to a popular potion,

It feels awkward. The last time he saw you, he was a completely different person. This is also the first time you’re eye to eye since the moment your mother accompanied him home and God, how slowly the time seeped through his fingers. It’s like years stretched out in between you instead of weeks. A part of him, his heart, jumps at your imagine plastered in front of him full in flesh, while the rest is ignited with the urge to turn around and storm out of the cabin. He, too, thinks about greeting you and your friends. However, he resinates from that and simply sits down onto the seat closest to an exit.

His gaze doesn’t dare to slide over to your seat, but he can practically feel you rolling your eyes at his dismissive approach, similar to the first time you two had met in this particular train. He preferably stares through the cabin door, looking out the window there. His hand cupping the side of his face as he leans into it, pretending as if none of you are there. He’s aware it portrays him as a jerk, and perhaps that’s what he needs to do in order to cut out the shape of you from his mind.

Of course, his will isn’t strong as steel so he does occasionally glance your way and makes it out as if he’s rather scanning the scenery than doing anything remotely similar to acknowledging you. His orbs flicker over the greenland out the window, your reflection haunting the corner of the glass and stealing his attention.

Your head is leaned into the cushioned seat as you grip your book, eyes focused on the words printed on the paper with ink. Arabella’s head is resting at your shoulder, unconscious and drowning in sleep. You are different. Taller, poised in a way that came not from effort, but from time itself and your hair is slightly shortened. The softness of your features had sharpened into definition, your eyes holding something deeper, more knowing. People change when you aren’t looking or more precisely, when you are dumbfounded to it happening before your own eyes. That happened with you and with the thought, he becomes aware of how much time has passed.

The feeling suffocating his chest is unpleasant, heavy and raw. He proceeds to do what does the best, look away and pretend.

Although he’s so conflicted.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ✼

The seventh year contained the most important exams given at Hogwarts based on those subjects that you had started taking in your sixth year. The entirety of your year carries the same schedule you had in the sixth year, these last months supposedly serving as a preparation for those exams which are meant to send you off into the real world.

And because of a special arrangement between the school and various other places around the world, students who have reached this stage of their education are offered the opportunity to explore various wizarding professions first-hand by signing up for an internship programme in the second half of the year.

Lastly, every year, a male and female seventh year student are appointed as Head boy and Head girl. Respectively by the headmaster and it turned out to be you for the house of Ravenclaw. The reason for the decision of choosing you are your outstanding grades and sense of responsibility.

However, your mind isn’t set on school or graduation at the moment. You’re still severely pondering about the events which occurred and quite lack your usual drive to be overly good, the position of Head girl adds a layer to your mountain of worries and things to take care of.

You wish someone else would’ve been chosen instead of you.

But right now, in this moment, nothing matters as you stand in front of the great body of water, side by side with your friends. The lake stretches out like a dark mirror, its surface shimmering under the silver glow of a nearly full moon. The air is still warm, the last whispers of summer lingering in the early September night. Crickets hum softly in the tall grass along the shore, blending with the occasional splash of water. Everything feels alive. Pulsing with energy that makes your heart race just a tad faster.

You now stand waist-deep in the water, feeling it lap against her skin, cool but welcoming. You shift your weight, which makes the moon’s reflection distort on the surface and it dances on it like a liquid silver. The night sky stretches above you, velvety and endless. Stars are scattered like tiny, watchful eyes. There is something mesmerising about the simple moment which is tainted with forbiddance — something that makes you feel as if you have stepped into a dream, weightless and unbothered from the rest of the world.

The twins, Arabella and Margaret linger at the shore, their legs tapping into the water. You watch them for a moment, their silhouettes dark against the moonlit water, before a mischievous grin spreads across your face. Without warning, you raises your arms and slap the water hard, sending a spray of droplets their way. The moonlight caresses them and then they fall back, pattering against the surface in a chorus of ripples. Your friends squeal and laugh, their laughter rising like music into the night.

“The water’s warm! Come on!” you yell out with a snicker, waving your hands to urge them to dive in. It takes them a moment of hesitation, but they eventually dip their bodies into the lake.

You then tilt your head back, closing your eyes for a brief moment, letting it all wash over you — the laughter, the water clinging to your skin, the electric thrill of the fact you shouldn’t be here. There is something perfect about this moment, something you know you’ll hold onto long after the leaves change colour. A perfect farewell to summer.

“This is what you get!” the strawberry blonde says without a warning and before you can process it, she dunks your head under the surface, holding it there for a moment. When you reach the surface again, you’re gasping for air and coughing up the water you inhaled while uncontrollably laughing at her attempt to get back at you.

“Ah, since you wanna play this game,” you smirk playfully with droplets of water streaming down your face. You cup water into your palms, splashing it into Arabella and then doing the same with the twins and Margaret.

“I didn’t wanna get my hair wet!” One of the twins mumbles into the darkness as she tries to shake off the water that had just been thrown at her. Her tone suggests she’s annoyed, however, her smile tells a completely different story.

And that’s how a war unleashes upon you.

Hands slap the surface, sending arcs of sparkling droplets into the air. Arabella shrieks as a cool splash hits their back, spinning around with a grin, planning a comeback. Waves ripple outward as you chase each other, half-swimming, half-stumbling in the shallows. Sprouts of water fleeing in the air, reflecting the moonlight, meanwhile laughter fills the hollow space of the night. And when the thrill of doing something so forbidden and sacred dies down, your conversation takes another turn. A turn regarding the state of the wizarding world.

It’s the first time you’re seeing each other at the same time after the fateful weekend, so there’s a lot to unpack. Each of you fill the others on what went on during your break, the chatter carrying an echo of bitterness due to the fact the world has managed to deform while you were away for the summer. All four of you knew it, the conspiracies of what is about to come corrupting your light conversation.

One was clear, everyone was somewhat worried.

“You know, I can’t believe we’re here not even a week and they’re already making us learn about The Unforgivable Curses,” the younger of the twins hums after you’re done sharing the events of your last school break, taking you all by surprise.

It was true. On the first class of defence against the dark arts, you were acquainted with them. With how to prepare for them, resist some of them and fight them. Since The Unforgivable Curses are three of the most powerful yet sinister spells known to the wizarding world. They’re the strongest Dark spells in existence, consisting of three of them.

Avada Kedavra — kills the victim painlessly, bringing instant death.

Crucio — tortures the victim by subjecting them to excruciating pain.

Imperio — causes the victim to become unquestioningly obedient to the caster, however, with enough willpower this spell can be resisted.

And using any of the three can lend you a one way ticket to Azkaban if you are caught using them.

Your entire class sat in silence during the whole lesson.

“Are you surprised? With what’s happening?” her older sister chimes in immediately and shoots her a sympathetic look since it’s clearly bothering her. The younger twin glues her orbs to her fingers which are dwindling with the mild water.

“They aren’t teaching us how to use them, simply how to defend ourselves,” you decide to join the conversation, making an attempt at calming her raging nerves. That makes her look up from the surface of the water.

“I-, what I meant is that I hope they’re over-exaggerating,” the younger twin stutters and stumbles across her words, nodding at your words in approval.

“Same,” Arabella whispers and then it’s silent.

When you can no longer take it, you dive beneath the surface with your eyes fluttered shut and like magic, it makes the world go quiet. Cool liquid folds around your entire body, weightless and slow, as if time itself has decided to pause. The only thing which you can hear is the sound of your own held up breath and a familiar ringing in your eyes. You manage to open your eyes, simply to be met with complete darkness, regardless of that, it comforts you instead of scaring you off like it usually would. The chaos of the world fades into nothingness. Tiny bubbles escape from your lips, spiraling upward as the water calms your nerves, cradling them. Here, in the hushed embrace of the deep, there is nothing but peace.

Moment later, you’re once again brought back to surface, dragging wet strands of hair out of your face. You blink quickly to adjust your gaze back and then you’re met with the sight of your friends floating on their backs, some open eyed staring at the night sky, and some lost in their own world with eyes closed. You hum softly, smiling to yourself as you catch a glimpse of Arabella and Margaret with their hands intertwined in the water before copying them, lying onto the body of water. Letting it hold you, letting it caress the sides of your face and letting it fill up your ears, numbing your senses.

“Guys, look, it’s a lantern,” the sound of Margaret’s voice makes you twitch, your head dunking into water in the sudden shift of your body weight. You hurriedly compose yourself and look towards the castle. And indeed see a small flickering light in the distance.

“I bet my wand it’s Flinch,” Arabella is swift to assume.

“Quick,” you mumble and all of you share a fleeting panicked look. You’re the first to begin to drag your body out of the lake, the weight of the water heavy as you near the shore.

When you reach it, you clumsily slide your body into your robe, not having enough time to layer more clothing. You grab the rest of the clothes, shoes and wand meanwhile everyone else is eagerly doing the same. Once you have your things gathered, the five of you start to sprint, making your way around the castle towards the Greenhouse.

“Shit, I forgot my tie. He’s gonna know someone was there,” Margaret stops, mumbling out of breath. Her palms rest on her knees as she’s bending down a little to catch her breath. The remaining four of you share a glance, unsure of what to do as your lungs heave.

“Go, I’ll get it,” you let out weakly, taking couple of deep breaths yourself and then proceed to shove the pair of your shoes and clothes into Arabella’s chest. You don’t let them protest, because in a split of a second, you’re sprinting all the way back down to the lake. You ponder if you chose the right thing as you make your way, fast as a thunderbolt. The quidditch practices have certainly paid off and for the first time you’re glad for all of the laps you had to run.

When you reach the spot where you were, the lantern is creeping dangerously close. You curse under your breath helplessly as you survey the area, the tie nowhere in sight. You begin to grow anxious, worried you’re about be caught and stripped of your position as the Head girl. It wasn’t something you longed to be, but you didn’t want to disappoint the headmaster who picked you out of all your fellow seventh year’s Ravenclaws.

Just as you think all is lost, you fish out the green tie of the Slytherin house out of the mud on the very edge of the shore. Your triumph is quick to deflate, because footsteps can already be heard. Panic freezes you, causing your gaze to dart in all directions, not sure where to bolt.

After chaotic contemplation, you’re strongly urged to hide your frame behind the rocks nearby. You squat down, your robe getting drenched in the water. You then place a palm over your mouth to quiet down your needy breathing. The footsteps are now bathing in the mud near the shore. Cold sweat washes over you, fingers gripping the dirty green tie you’ve come back to retrieve.

The sound of metal echoes in the air as Flinch sways the lantern, looking for any signs of intrusion. You press your back into the rocks as a light yet chilly breeze ruffles around, making you shiver as your drenched robe sticks to your body. Flinch calls out, asking if anyone is present and his musky voice forces you to stop breathing, despite the burning from the running.

His footsteps soon start to fade into the distance again, and you can finally let out all the air build up in your lungs. Relief swallows you, regardless of the fact he’s heading towards the Greenhouse, which means you’re gonna have to take another route to get into your dorm-room.

You carefully straighten your figure and map out the surroundings, Flinch already distant enough for you to take your chance and escape. Your feet rush and take you to the edge of The Forbidden forest. It most definitely isn’t your favourite place, it always gives you the creeps, however, it is the best spot. If someone were to spot you, you could easily slip in between the trees and hide yourself.

Lingering around the outline of the forest was your general idea, so you went with it. Muscles twitching in pain from the sprinting. The exhaustion wraps you in a welcoming cloak, your eyelids heavy as you stroll through the long way, weird alluring presence of the forest, or rather what’s in it, seizing you.

A twig snaps in the background and it makes you abruptly turn around, wand ready to strike in your tight grip.

“Do you point your wand at everyone or just me?”

A voice you know all too well calls out, his hands lifted in air, portraying surrender.

An avalanche of suspicion tickles you as your gaze sticks to him.

“God, you scared me,” you heavily breathe out and with hesitation place the wand into the inner pocket of your robe. You cling the robe close to your body, when his gaze lightly falters down your figure as you put away your wand. Only then realising the robe is the only layer of clothing shielding you.

Neither of you speak of it.

“What are you doing here?” you ask neutrally, voicing out what you’ve been thinking the second you recognised his ball of white hair, impossible to miss even in the darkness.

“Could ask you the same, precious,” he purrs playfully and it catches you off guard. His nickname for you which you preferably ignore. The way he so effortlessly bites back as if it were the easiest thing in the world, waking up the familiar sense of irritation in your system. But deep down, you know he’s right. It isn’t common to wander around at such an hour and especially not so close to The Forbidden forest.

“You’re lurking,” you suggest, crossing your arms at your chest while still holding the robe together to avoid the mistake you had made moments ago.

“Keeping tabs on me?” the white haired wizard arches his eyebrow at you, stepping closer as a smirk decorates his lips. Not a surprise.

“Merely stating the obvious,” you shrug and instead of giving him the satisfaction of displaying your anger, you remain somewhat nonchalant.

“You sure wander around a lot for Head girl too,” his tone is clearly teasing as he cheekily answers, hinting at the fact you’re supposed be the one preventing this from happening and not the one practicing it.

“We didn’t see each other, yeah? Now get lost,” you give up after debating whenever to offer surrender or to poke further. You chose the surrender, because at the end of the day, you have no idea what to expect from him in this department. You’ve seen what he’s capable of throughout your school years and right now, you don’t want to risk anything.

“As you wish,” he winks at you cockily, but nods his head in agreement anyway.

And without any further explanation, he’s off.

To where? You have no idea.

You’re left alone, enveloped by the forest. A dilemma rises in your mind, to follow or to retrieve? What possible business he could have here, at The Forbidden forest, so late into the night? He did speak the truth. A wind of fate could’ve lead him here accidentally just like it did with you, and perhaps it was all a big coincidence. But then, why would he venture further into the forest?

Your curiosity gets the best out of you, so before his artic locks disappear into the depths of the forest, you’re sneaking in his direction. Towering trees loom over your head, their ancient branches tangled so thickly that only slivers of moonlight pierce through, casting ghostly patterns. The further you go the thicker the air gets — scent of moss, damp earth, and something faintly metallic. Silence is nearly none existent in here. The wind whispers through the trees, while distant, unidentifiable rustlings hint at creatures watching from the shadows. Every step feels uncertain. You nearly jump out of your skin each time something unregistered makes a noise, your heart drumming in your ribcage crazily.

Your eye stay peeled on the figure meters ahead, careful to not lose sight of him. Still, when a pair of glowing eyes glistens on the right side of your peripheral vision, your attention is split. Turning to the direction, stopping in your tracks. To realise the horrid creature staring at you is not in fact a horrid creature, but a stag. Your orbs return back to the foggy forest ahead of you to find nothing, his presence absent.

You stand flabbergasted, blinking.

A howl of an owl startles you and that’s when you decide it’d be best to abandon your mission and get the hell out of the forest. Flinch must be haunting other places by now. The Greenhouse entrance is surely free, you think to yourself as you turn around one hundred and eighty degrees. You can’t bring yourself to trust what moves around the forest so you run, despite the pain you’re feeling.

You run till your body’s sore, still damp strands of your hair flying around. By the time you arrive at the secret entrance you and your friends found last yea that leads straight to the Ravenclaw’s common room, you’re surprised your body hasn’t given out.

“Thank you for waiting for me. It was a close call down there,” you exhale in between your shaky breaths as you notice Arabella standing by the entrance to the passage, she probably offered to wait and told the others to slip into their own houses.

“What took you so long? I was getting worried,” she mumbles anxiously, fiddling with the fabric of her robe. Arabella then steps out of the way to let you enter and closes the door shut after you step in.

“Lumos,” her fingers delicately move in the air as she casts the spell.

“I bumped into Flinch and hid, had to take another route around the forest,” you beam tiredly and sound almost causally. As if you did this daily. You proceed to take out Margaret’s green tie out of your pocket “found the tie, though”

“You were near The Forbidden forest?” your friend stops in her tracks in front of the stairs, turning to face you, her expression telling you exactly how she feels about you wandering near that place. Completely ignoring your success of retrieving the tie belonging to her girlfriend.

“And you won’t believe who else I bumped into,” you announce, leaving her to figure it out on her own.

“Who? Gojo? Surely not,” she snickers, the sound ringing through the rocky walls as you descend higher, each stair urging your body to give up. Her quick and witty answer makes you falter, how did she manage so fast?

“You guessed it,” you peep.

“Am I sensing this wrong, or are you still thinking about what happened at the tournament?” Arabella gathers the courage to question you after a moment of silence, her grip on her wand is gentle and she leaves it pulled out in front of her of her. Lighting up the way up.

“You aren’t?” you question back, brows softly furrowing in the process.

“Merlin’s beard! Of course I’m, but I’m trying to not assume things without knowing the context. It’s not good for you either, worrying yourself like that,” her choice of words seems to get stuck in your brain, rewinding them like a broken record.

You’re aware she’s onto something.

“I have this paralysing fear that something’s wrong,” to which Arabella simply breathes out, not out of annoyance, but rather out of sympathy and her shoulder slump down as you ascend the stairs.

“Are you sure Margaret doesn’t know anything? I know you’ve asked her in your letters, however, something isn’t letting me rest,” you leave your previous statement behind without getting an answer and instead bring up something else, something not so reminding of what’s going on.

“I think you should let it go and focus on other things. It’ll be good for you,” she responds once you reach the top, walking quietly into the common room.

“You’re probably right,” you surrender eventually and don’t press.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from conspiring.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ✼

First few weeks of autumn indeed go by differently than they normally would, and no, it isn’t because it’s your last year. But due to the reason your beloved wizardry school is supposedly a target for those in charge of the evil. Sadly, precautions had to be put up even here. The drastic one being Dementors floating around with their miserable existence, those who are meant to be guarding Azkaban. The Ministry stated some of them must be provided to the school as the Death Eaters who escaped the walls of the prison are now amongst the wizards.

For safety, they said.

Along with that came countless others new rules, some stupider than other. Quidditch season was held back for couple of weeks, because of the atrocious black coloured creatures. The Forbidden forest became an even bigger taboo to all, and students who would be caught outside of their room after curfew would be seriously punished.

At least the professors and headmaster focused on providing you with enough information and preparation for the worst.

And it seems problems occurred even outside of the school walls. The Daily Prophet started coming out with news about the conservatives and their skyrocketing popularity, including the fact muggleborns are now being cornered and forced to leave. That’s how it starts, it’s how it always starts, isn’t it?

The spreading news create an even bigger abyss in between people at Hogwarts. Most of the pureblood loudly encourage the conservatives and grow more disgusted, degrading the presence of those who were born into human families. The shift in behaviour alters the relationship of Arabella and Margaret, their disguised romantic bond shook with the impact. The friendship act they put out on in the public suddenly wasn’t enough of a reason to see each other anymore. Margaret’s brother prohibited his younger sister from tagging along with Arabella and you.

It caused a lot of fierce destructive sparks in their dynamic.

What a terrible thing it is to be kept away from someone you cherish, because of something so simple which is not in your power to change.

One thing that doesn’t seem to dread in these cursed times is Satoru Gojo’s profound effortlessness. To you he was the same in some ways, though not in all. From time to time, you find yourself recalling the weekend in July late at night, when you can’t sleep. You toss in bed, unable to lock the humid days somewhere hidden. What comes back to you isn’t all horrible. No, some of the moments are nice enough. Occasionally, you too dwell on the short-lived conversation between you and Gojo, the memory vivid. It feels like you share some sort of a secret with him, something only he’d understand if you were to mention it. And then the uglier moments strike — the terror, the dryness in your throat as you were being chased, the thought of death crossing your mind.

You reminisce about the circumstances of the attack too often. Too many unanswered questions are still spiralling through your mind. Wondering if there is a connection between Gojo and the events of the night, or if any of the Slytherins knew it was about to happen. Before the attack occurred, you naively thought the tension between two could loosen up, but the image was popped like a balloon the second he stepped into the train cabin and acted like you were strangers seeing one another for the first time.

That precise moment, your instincts became alerted and you pondered about more theoretical question. Not due to the fact he didn’t greet you, that was very like him, but rather in the general picture of his character.

You seem to have a misfortune of bumping into him at the strangest times and it results in your sense of suspicion increasing.

He is indeed acting odd. And he’s dodging you.

The out of character meeting you two shared in the forest was a surprise, and perhaps you would be able to mark it as a coincidence and leave be. That is ff it was a one time thing only. But as time passed, it became almost a routine.

One time you were preforming your duty as the Head girl, surveying the area before curfew to make sure no one was breaking the newly set rules, you caught a glimpse of his shimmering white locks. For a small fraction of a second only, so you were left to guess if your brain was playing tricks on you. You swear you saw him to Arabella, demanding that you’re not crazy. Another time you spotted him acting inadequately was as you walked down the Astronomy tower, the sun was setting behind the horizon and soft glows of colours casted a magical light all around you, and he suddenly spawned under the stairs leading up to the tower. You shared a quick look, swirling thoughts of what he’s doing clashing within your soul.

And the last time you’ve seen your suspicions forming before your eyes, was when you finished taking your extra class early in the morning. You were on your way to your dorm-room and as you peaked out the window, the sky darkened by the remains of the night, his unique features couldn’t have been overlooked in the distance, somewhere outside heading towards The Forbidden forest.

Yet again.

All of that and more occurred within the same week.

Overall, the outlook seems to be that he’s avoiding you. To possibly keep something a secret, is your guess, because not only did the entire world shifted, but so did your banter. You should be glad, however you can’t rest mindlessly while the doubts eat at you. You still share your classes with him, yet his presence became ghost like. His usual remarks towards professors and playful stunts are now absent. It’s as if they exchanged him with a carbon copy with the sole expectation of being different at core. He stopped competing with you academically long ago, letting you take the first spot without a single protest. He no longer torments you with his mere existence. The only place where you can bump into each other is the quidditch field, nonetheless, since the season was postponed, the option isn’t there either.

To everyone else Satoru Gojo probably appears to be the same pretentious douche he has been all these years. They absolutely adore him, he’s still the talk of your year — hell, talk of the most years anyway — so the news about him spread like he’s the main attraction. Participating in parties hosted in the Slytherin common room, to which only specially selected individuals from other houses get an invitation.

He always seemed to sort of dating around, though now rumours are circling that he has finally settled into a relationship with a fellow pureblood of his house.

The starlet is thriving even as the world descends into madness. And despite your dearest friend asking you to drop it, you never did. Actually, you went in the opposite way of what she wanted for you.

It must be a facade, you think to yourself.

But at the end of the day, it’s those Dementors causing you the most worries. Incidents happen when those lifeless creatures are near. It’s inevitable. It became somewhat important to you, knowing how to defend yourself against one of them. If it comes down to that. Their haunting presence chokes you with upmost fright if it happens to be in a close radius. You can’t phantom how soul sucking it must be to have them feed on your happiness. You don’t wish to imagine what an impact it’d leave and neither how defenceless it must be. In spite of that, you started practicing. Learning the one spell which can indeed hush them off is now your priority.

Though it’s not simple at all.

Expecto patronum — forms a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor. It represents a positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon – hope, happiness, the desire to survive. But it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can’t hurt it.

The Patronus has two forms, non-corporeal and corporeal. A non-corporeal Patronus can appear as a thin wisp of magic that hovers like mist. Not revealing its full form. Whereas a corporeal Patronus has a form that is clearly defined and is more than vapour or smoke.

So far you haven’t been able to charm either form so far, therefore you have no clue what form your Patronus carries. That’s precisely why you began attending early lessons with the professor teaching defence against the dark arts, every Monday and Thursday morning.

It is an advanced form of magic, yet the concept of it seems so very simple. A single memory embroidered with pure joy would be enough to conjure up the guardian.

With enough contraction, of course.

It troubles you enough to haunt you while you patrol the long hallways and hollow spaces of the castle, you dip into the furthest parts of your memory, recalling each significant time you’ve felt utopian. All memories which come to you aren’t strong enough to charm up that state. Your steps lead you to the library, your attention so far from reality you notice the tall slim figure only on your way out of there.

“The library is closing,” you announce and step into the alley of bookshelves where he’s listing through one which he probably picked up randomly to make himself look busy.

“So?” Satoru doesn’t bother to look up, eyes skimming over the lines while leaning against the wooden archive.

“I’ll have to report and take points from your house,” you urge closer as you speak deliberately, carefully letting out each word to let him taste your venom, sounding almost teasing.

“And what about Margaret and Arabella, hmm? I’m sure they wouldn’t be happy if someone spilled their secret,” his voice is low, uninterested and he doesn’t bother to glance up even now as you stand closer.

It makes you freeze.

“You wouldn’t,” you reply confidently, standing your ground, when in reality you’re not so sure about anything he does or would do.

“I absolutely would,” his voice drips with defiance.

“I’m kidding, I’ll be out in a second,” he says as a response to your undefined silence and flips to another page, piercing icy orbs flickering to meet yours for a flash of a moment, the gesture weirdly reassuring.

You remain silent, meanwhile he’s probably hoping that you will let him be and keep this to yourself.

“What business do you have in here anyway?” you lean against one of the bookshelves as well, good amount of distance stored in between your bodies.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” his voice is now painted with the familiar mischievous glimmer, his eyes focused on the book. It makes you realise the book was definitely picked up on purpose and that causes you to become curious, trying to catch a glimpse of the title.

“You’re acting unusually strange, even for you,” you remark, focus sliding over to the books aligned in shelves, most of them covered in layers of dust “you must be hiding something.”

“Hiding something, huh? the white haired prodigy repeats the words after you, adding a glint of intrigue and playfulness.

This time he fully looks up, finding you to be the one looking away now.

“The other night at the lake, you disappeared like you were hiding something,” your fingers glide over the book’s spines, eyes briefly depicting their content as you point out his behaviour.

“You’re right, I am hiding something,” he makes you abruptly stop dead in any movement, hand retrieving to your side and head tilting in his direction.

You’re surprised your jaw isn’t on the floor.

“You admit it? Just like that?” you laugh out lightly with a hint of nervousness, not believing he’s confessing to it like it’s nothing.

“Mhhm, just like that,” he utters and shrugs carelessly, shutting the book and placing back on the shelf.

“Why?” your simple question hangs in the air before you can stop yourself from speaking it.

“Meet me at midnight on the edge of The Forbidden forest and I’ll let you find out,” your eyes immediately widen a little in surprise at his suggestion, heart racing faster than normally.

“Huh?” the only thing you manage.

“You heard me,” he blesses his features by curling his lips into a smile, one so smug it could cut right through you.

“You can’t be serious right now,” you say in denial of what’s happening.

“I hundred percent am,”

“You’re bollocks,”

“But you’re the one who’s considering it,” you’re about to shush him off, tell him he’s looking into things more than he should. None of it comes out of your mouth as your gaze lingers on him. Lucent ivory lighting creating a halo, enveloping him in the arms of soft yellow tones.

“Get out of the library or I’m reporting you for real,” you nod your head towards the exit after you realise the pause in between your responses extended over the acceptable limit.

“See ya at midnight,” a snicker slips past his lips and his body begins to move, heading towards you.

“I didn’t say I’d come,” you purse your lips, a slight furrow between your brows as you stare pointedly at him marching closer. And just as you think he’s about to walk past you, he stops by your side.

“Oh, but you will,” Satoru responds with a small shake of his head while staring you down.

Once he’s looking away, he walks past you and is on his way out.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you mumble into the now empty space, left behind to drown in your own curiosity.

What the hell was this?

As soon as you regain your consciousness and shake off the peculiar offer, you instantly reach for the book he was flipping through.

You don’t know what you were expecting. But itdefinitely wasn’t magical creatures though.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

You grip the book and look into it the same way he did, not finding anything particularly useful to piece this puzzle together. With a heavy sigh, you carefully place it back and lazily patrol the rest of the area as you were initially meant to do.

Your entire way back to your room throughout the castle is long, however, with the amount of conspiracies running your poor mind exhausted, it goes by quickly.

If you decide to not go, you’re afraid this obsessive need to figure out the truth will only progress into the wrong direction and you might actually go crazy. And if you decide to go, you might come across something that can alter the way you see the world forever, if it truly turns out to be what you’re experiencing.

Perhaps you’re wrong and it’s all in your head.

You open the door to your room with carefulness, not wanting to wake your friend up in case she’s already sleeping.

The room is pitch black when you step in.

“Arabella? What’s happened?” you whisper into the silence of your dorm-room and close the door behind you. Something’s telling you this isn’t right. The room is swallowed by darkness, drapes keeping the gentle light of the moon out. Despite it, you can tell your friend isn’t asleep by the way her body lies sprawled out in her bed on her side of the room.

You inch towards your nightstand, no answer spoken. Your fingers pick up matches laying on the wooden table, lighting it up to breathe life into your candle so the room could be illuminated by a beaming light.

“Margaret,” a weak call out of her name pollutes the air. The sound of Arabella’s raspy voice telling you enough to assume she has been crying her eyes out.

“Did you have another argument?” the way you talk moulds into a softer one, delicate enough to show sympathy. You turn around to face her side of the room, Arabella’s body shifting under the blanket.

“Sort of,” she starts off, suggesting that another set of tears is prickling its way out to the surface.

“She-“ Arabella can’t bring herself to speak, breaking into sobs.

You guess what’s happened.

Arabella manages to curl into a ball, gripping her blanket for dear life as she spills her heart out into her pillow. Your heart clenches at the sight so much you can’t bring yourself to move for a whole moment.

Soon enough you’re moving towards her, laying your body on the very edge of her bed, arms spread open to show her your invitation. She takes it without a second thought, scooping her body into yours. She’s warm. From shielding herself underneath the blanket and from all the heavy tears she’s broadcasted. Your arms wrap around her frame as hers slide around your torso, head falling into the crook in between your shoulder and neck.

“Margaret suggested we should take a break,” her broken voice mumbles in between choked sobs.

The bare sound of her name makes Arabella shudder.

“There’s a lot of stuff happening, it’s not the end of you two. She loves you too much,” you attempt to reassure her, palm drawing soft sensual circles on the plain of her back. She nuzzles her head further into your neck, wet stains left at your skin from all of her cries.

“It sounded like a soft launch break up,” Arabella sniffles, fighting the urge to start crying again.

“You’re gonna get back together, when this nonsense ends,” you go on, holding her tightly than you normally would.

“Who knows when that’ll be. By then, she might actually seek out someone she can be with openly,” and with that, tears stream down the swell of her cheeks. You can sense them. Expect this time, it’s not violent. It’s like a caress to her stained cheeks. A reflection of her sorrows.

“If it’s meant to be then it’ll be, remember? It’s what you once told me,” you muster up a reminder of her previous strength and openness, hoping to ease her. Arabella stays still, the sound of her sobs calming down and her heaving breathing slowing down.

“Please don’t leave me, not you,” she mumbles while squeezing you tightly, her thinking you’d ever leave her shatters you a little, but you manage to collect yourself for the sake of her.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you exhale as you smile softly. Though she can’t see it, you bet she can hear it in the tone of your voice.

You don’t leave her bed for hours, letting her spill out ber boiling feelings. Arabella picks herself up to be able to share all the details with you. Meanwhile you think about asking her whenever it’s a good idea to go, however, you stop yourself from doing so as you don’t deem it as a good idea to bother her with it in her current state.

She does successfully fall asleep later on, her poor eyes red and puffy from the amount of tears shed.

When you look at the time, it’s nearly midnight.

You curse under your breath quietly and pick up your things, mindlessly without any further thoughts. Already decided.

The common room is cloaked in shadows as you tiptoe in, the dying embers in the fireplace casting flickering shapes on the walls. You hesitate at the entrance of your secret passage. Nothing but the steady ticking of the clock can be heard. Midnight is close. You pull your robe tighter around you and slip out, the stone corridor cool as you rush down the stairs.

The fear is there, a steady pulse in your chest, but so is something else. A thrill courses through you, mingling with it. You shouldn’t be doing this. You should turn back, climb into bed, pretend you never even considered it. And yet — you can’t.

By the time you reach the outside, your hands are trembling. The night air is crisp, laced with the scent of damp grass and fog of the early autumn days. The Forbidden Forest looms in the distance, a vast, tangled darkness against the sky. With one last glance behind you, you step forward, your feet squalling against the damp grass.

You glance around, nerves prickling. No lanterns flicker in the windows. No figures moving. The air is chilling you, thick with the scent of earth and rain-soaked leaves. The Forbidden Forest stretches ahead, embroidered with something ancient and electric. You recall the night at the lake, when your senses prickled with the same energy.

Your steps slow as you near the treeline. The forest is awake. The branches shift ever so slightly, as though whispering to each other of your arrival.

There is no turning back now.

Then there is a movement ahead. A figure half-shrouded in the gloom, waiting just beyond the reach of the moonlight in the forest.

Your pulse races.

He came.

“Thought you’d changed your mind and leave me hanging,” he teases lightly. The sound of his deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, and instant regret crushes down onto you. You should’ve stayed with Arabella. This isn’t something you are ought to drench yourself in.

“Yeah, me too,” you swallow a bundle nervous down your throat before providing him with an answer.

“Come on,” Satoru cocks his head in the direction of the woods, hands shoved in the pockets of his robe as he signals to head deeper.

“You want me to follow you into the forest?” you question doubtingly, eyes widening.

“We have to get to the place first,” his body begins to move, back turned your way as he starts to move.

Yeah, he definitely knows his way around here.

“I lost my mind,” you utter under your nose, only for you to hear.

You’re right behind him the next second.

The forest thickens around you, the air growing heavier, dense with something faintly sweet — like rotting fruit. The trees lean in close, their twisted limbs tangled together, whispering in a language only the wind seems to understand.

You don’t trust him. You shouldn’t, you can’t. But there’s something about the way he walks ahead of you, half in shadow, half in moonlight, like he belongs to both.

Like he could pull you into either.

You see it then, through a break in the undergrowth. A small pond, cradled in the earth like a secret. The surface is smooth, reflecting the tangle of trees above in near-perfect clarity. Yet something about it is off. The reflection is too sharp, the water too dark. You step closer, your breath catching as the tension spikes.

Beside you, the white haired wizard crouches down at the edge, fingertips skimming the surface. Ripples break outward, deliberate. For a heartbeat, his reflection doesn’t move with him. You swallow hard. You should leave. Every ounce of your being is telling you to bolt. However, when he turns to look at you, the pull towards this unknown tightens its grip on you.

“So, what is it?” the impatient basically seeps out of you as break through the lingering silence.

“Patience, precious. Now, we wait,” Satoru lets out a playful chuckle, finding your emotions tainted with fear quite amusing. And without any further explanation, he seats himself down onto one of the rocks nestled right by the edge of the pond.

“For what?” you press, fierce although scared.

“You’ll know when you see it,”

“I’m getting tired of your riddles,” you sigh, loathing how mysterious he makes it out to be, your ribs nudging in your sides from all the possible scenarios. Your lungs let out a heavy breath, surrounding to the situation and stepping towards him to sit down as well. The rough, uneven surface of the rock presses against you as you settle onto it, its coolness seeping through the fabric of your robe.

Moonlight peaks through the branches, breaking into silver ribbons across the surface. The water, deep and unknowable, stares back at you, offering no answers, only the illusion of stillness and yourself. Suddenly, it’s not so frightening. Quite the opposite.

“Won’t your girlfriend be jealous? That you’re sneaking into the night with someone else” you blurt out, lost in thought as you zone out, and the next moment you’re drenched in upper hand embarrassment.

“She doesn’t need to know, does she?” he hums in amusement, his arogance spilling out of him so clearly it makes your blood pressure rise. At that point you don’t consider the option to tilt your head in his direction, but you can see from the corner of your eye that his gaze is on you now.

“And it sort of depends if she has a reason to be, do you think she does?” he shamelessly continues, fuelling both your embarrassment and your frustration at his behaviour.

“No,” you state too quickly and too firmly, someone would even say harshly.

Satoru Gojo simply laughs, something about it surprisingly genuine. He then averts his gaze back to the pond, looking out for the mystery.

“Quidditch is starting next week. Finally, huh?” your voice points out after another period of silence passes, trying to lighten up the atmosphere and mostly to direct the topic somewhere less awkward. And quidditch is probably the only thing you have in common, so it was no-brainer.

“What, ready to get your ass kicked?” his eyebrows arch up in a familiar way, powered by his ego since he’s still the quidditch captain.

“We’ll see,” you huff out in a light way, actually looking forward to blow some steam off on the field, especially when you’ll be playing up against him.

The water is still as you both sit at its edge, the silence between you and Satoru stretching longer with each passing moment. The conversation has faded once again. It isn’t uncomfortable, it’s quiet like the water before you. You expected it to be way more unpleasant.

All of a sudden, without warning, the air shifts. A glow so silver and soft emerges atop the water, flickering like mist catching moonlight. It takes a form, delicate yet undeniable. Hooves barely disturbing the surface as it steps forward on the surface. It’s a stag. Quite similar to the one you saw couple of days ago. Its presence is weightless, but utterly ethereal. The glow of it pulses gently, as if breathing. It does not move toward you, nor away. It simply exists, radiant and still. The water beneath it remains unbroken. And for a moment, you are certain that if you reached out, just barely, your fingers would brush something real.

“It’s a-“ your voice breaks as you can’t bring yourself to stand up, afraid it might go away.

Satoru doesn’t move either.

“A Patronus,” he takes the word right out of your mouth, breathless as you, despite seeing it multiple times.

“Who casted it? There’s no wizard around expect for us,” your short circulated brain asks a question after a question. Never in your life have you seen such a momentary example of beauty. The creature is so innocently light and pure, its energy warming you up.

“That’s precisely what I’ve been thinking, when I crossed paths with the creature,” your orbs roll over to him, he senses you so he repeats the action. He can decipher the amusement plastered in your expression.

“So that’s why you’ve been sneaking around here?” you aren’t even mad anymore at him for dragging you out here, into the depths of the forest, a place you could get punished for visiting. Your suspicions now seem silly. You’d never admit it to anyone, however, you’re relieved they were false.

“Busted. But it comes here nearly every night,” his voice is low, robbed of his usual styling of words.

“And did you figure something out?” you mumble back, eyes scanning the creature as if it might disappear if you even dare to blink.

“I picked up countless of books, none of them had anything though. Perhaps it’s tied to someone at Hogwarts and has unfinished business or it’s cursed to haunt the forest. Whatever it is, the wizard must be dead,” he proceeds to explain, your attention fully glued to whatever he has to say while the Patronus stands still, occasionally moving its head

“Dead?” you echo quietly.

The majestic creature floating on the small body of water dissolves the way it came. Unexpectedly and like a gentle caress.

“We have to figure out more,” your voice is laced with the thrill of the moment which causes his features to soften up ever so slightly. He finds your unanticipated passion admirable.

“We?” a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“You got me involved, didn’t you? So it’s now both of our problem,” you cross your arms on your chest after you’re finally put back to the planet and are able to stand up “and what made you show me this, anyway?”

“Dunno, thought it might interest you out of all people,” his body motions in the same way, towering above you, closer than you’d normally let him.

Was he always this tall? This-?

“Mhm, well, thank you for showing me,” you voice out your gratitude, your lips foreshadowing a hint of a smile. No additional twists nor banter. Satoru blinks down at you, heart skipping a beat at the situation as he opens his mouth, unable to bring himself to answer.

“We should probably head back, right? We’ll look into it tomorrow, noon,” you take a step back to look around, looking for any traces of the Patronus instead of acknowledging what has just occurred.

“Got it, noon,” the wizard with artic locks breathes out heavily.

For a split moment all feels pleasant, however, an inevitable sense of reality prickles him.

This is all an act. The stag stumbled into hiding way in the right time, allowing him to use it as an opportunity to convince you of his undying innocence. It’s a lie to cover up whom he had become over the summer and what’s about to unleash. It serves as a perfect shield from your insufferable nosy behaviour, protecting his actual reason.

Because at the end of the day he knows things you could only dream about. Things which are strictly forbidden to reveal, things worthy of being sent to Azkaban for a permanent visit.

Things that would give you a real reason to despise him.

It isn’t simply the electrifying night of terror which occurred at the tournament.

Not anymore.

There’s so much more to unfold.

credits for dividers: [@enchanthings-a @cafekitsune]

taglist: [ @k-kkiana @cuffiescariche @sylustoru @hyori2 @ethereal-moonlit]

gojo satoru had experienced hell before, that one time he lined up to get his favorite manga signed by the author but kept letting people cut in front of him because he was too scared to say something and he’s just nice like that. that was until geto told him off for doing it because he ended up not getting his book signed. he’s so dumb.

but this—this was a different kind of hell. he’s sat on the couch at a house party with.. yeah, you guessed it. the squad: suguru geto, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna… a whole bunch of hotties

it’s not really a pleasant sight to see. 2 girls clinging onto sukuna, fushiguro making out with one and geto talking to a girl who is clearly interested in him..

and then there’s gojo.

sitting there awkwardly, clutching a cup in his hand while sipping on nothing.

sure, he loves his best friend suguru. he just hates how popular he is. at every function, all the girls seem to be magnetised to his mysterious and brooding aura. and gojo’s just there, i guess. he huffs at the thought. he thinks knows that he could treat a girl soooo right if they just gave him a chance!

geto excuses himself to go upstairs with the girl. satoru already knows where this is going, so he brushes it off. he then eyes the group of girls from afar giggling and whispering to each other while looking at the guys on the couch. actually.. it looks like they’re looking towards his direction.

“come on y/n! just ask him!” your friends keep nudging and shoving you towards his direction, and gojo couldn’t help but scowl.

after finally mustering up the courage to come up to him, you fiddle with your fingers before stuttering out a quiet “hi,”

gojo sighs, “if you’re here to ask for suguru’s number, i’m not interested.”

your eyes widen in confusion which makes him confused too.

“oh, uh.. i was actually going to ask for yours..?”

what.

there’s no way.

“it’s fine if you’re not interested, i’m sorry—”

“NO, NO, I AM!” he internally cringes at his response. “sorry, i just.. thought you were gonna ask about suguru.” he puts his palm out, silently asking you to give him the sharpie. you shrug and give it to him, rolling your sleeve up.

you smile after he writes down his number on your forearm, giving you back your pen. “thanks,” he nods at you. “and for the record.. i think you’re way cuter than geto.” gojo’s face heats up as you walk away, burying his face into his hoodie.

you tuck the pen into your pocket, suppressing a grin as you walk away. behind you, gojo groans, burying his face deeper into his hoodie, his muffled voice barely audible.

“way cuter than geto,” he mutters to himself, kicking at the ground. “way cuter. oh my god.”

͙͘͡★ divider by @zerowhy & @cafekitsune 🩵

If you separate them more than half a milimiter they die

as the speakers blasted bass boosted music, you sit on the couch with a red cup in your hand, rationing the drink in it because you’re too afraid to go up to the bar alone.

it’s a bit crowded, your friends on the dance floor while you just watch other people rubbing up against each other. not an ideal way to spend your weekend when you have exams coming up but oh well, yolo.

you’re not much of a party person, well- you’ve tried to become one but it just didn’t work. not when it felt awkward to dance and everyone ignored you in conversations. you’ve never felt so unseen.

that was, until…

you felt the couch sink on your right side. you turn your head to see the one and only—“Most Popular” Playboy—Satoru Gojo.

you panic internally, why is he here?!

“hey,” you nod back in response to his greeting, visibly confused on why he’s talking to you—the girl he’s been basically in all of the same classes with since high school but has never uttered a word to?

“you here alone?” you hum in disagreement. he looks out to the crowd of dancers then back at you. “where are your friends?”

okay, now you’re really confused. why is he asking you all of these questions? is this a prank? “oh, uhm.. they’re on the dance floor.” he nods, then eyes your figure up and down.

“i like your ring, it’s from ‘Howl’s Moving Castle’ right?” your eyes light up, you definitely did not expect that. you stutter a bit before letting out a quiet mhm. he asked you to repeat it, and you just nodded. he smiles at you and suddenly you understand why every girl falls for— no, no. no you don’t. you’re not falling for this propaganda!!

“what other animes do you like?”

—

you step into the room upstairs, entering what looked and felt like being at an anime shop. blue walls, posters everywhere, displays of action figures in glass boxes… who knew this popular frat guy would be such a geek??

you spot various pieces of fiction, such as digimon, ghibli movies, 2000s romcoms, resident evil, and so much more!!!

“didn’t take you for a romcom guy.” he chuckles, sitting at the edge of his bed. “yeah, i don’t think anyone does.”

you hum then gasp at his displayed pokémon cards. “is that the pikachu illustrator?! how the hell did you acquire such a rare card??” he chuckles and explains how he got it, he’s rich obviously!

—

the night was long. the speakers still blare from downstairs, but you and gojo talked about the same interests for hours. this definitely wasn’t on your bucket list, ‘befriending’ the most popular guy in school history who also happens to be super similar to you??

in gojo’s eyes, he’s never met a girl like you. call him teruhashi from saiki k because everyone is all over him. he’s never even had a relationship or involved himself in hookups despite being known as a ‘playboy.’ but tonight.. tonight seemed genuine—like you’re not just another person who’s trying to get in his pants.

it can be tiring. despite there being people who would kill to be him, all he wants is someone he can settle down with for life. someone who’s not there for the money or the popularity, but for him. and that’s exactly how he feels about you. 4 hour conversations about films and niche interests? yes please.

his fantasy was cut off by the sound of a ringing phone—of course it was your friends. why did you have to leave the party just because they want to?

“i have to go, it was great talking to you though!” he grips the sheets as you smile, god you were adorable. he waves goodbye, sinking into the sheets as you closed the door behind you.

he’s definitely gonna search for you on campus tomorrow.

͙͘͡★ divider by @cafekitsune 🍡

You got this, Nerdjo!

Part One // Next Part // Masterlist

Gojo Satoru was not stalking you. He just happened to be standing in the board games aisle of the popular bookstore near campus. At the same time you were. For the third time this week. Total coincidence. Really. He was just hear for an expansion pack. For Dice. Okay maybe he is here for you. He's been thinking about you since the moment he saw you checking out the Gundam section last week. Really. He wanted to give you his opinion but...he didn't want to seem like a total dick. A mansplainer of sorts.

Oh god, there you are again. Picking up a game. Oh you look so focused. So beautiful. So smart. Wait, is that - oh no. Not that one.

You were reaching for a notoriously convoluted board game, one even Redditors have many complaints about, and before he could stop himself, his feet were moving. Mouth was moving. Everything was moving except his common sense.

Okay, Satoru. Tap the shoulder. Speak. Be your usual charming self. It's just a girl. A very pretty girl. Say something. Be normal.

He tapped your shoulder. Lightly. You turned to look at him with the kind of expression one might give to a stranger who had absolutely no business tapping them in a bookstore. Which, honestly, he didn't have the business to do. Then cleared his throat - loudly, awkwardly - and blurted out:

"Ireallydontthinkyoushouldpickupthatgametherulesaredifficultactuallytherulesdon'tevenmakesenseImeanwhoevencameupwiththem - "

Oh my god. Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud? What did I just say?

First, your brows knit together slowly as you blinked, turning towards him with a touch of confusion and offense on your face.

“You don’t think I can understand… the rules?”

Shitshitshit

His heart dropped straight to his ass.

Going to throw up. Going to throw up. Going to throw up.

How am I fumbling this bad?

He could practically see the social bar above his head draining to zero. As your very pretty, bright eyes stared up at him. He wondered just where did you get those eyes from? His future mother-in-law or father-in-law? Wait no don't be fucking weird.

“No, oh god no! I didn’t mean - uh, that’s not - I think you could totally get it! I mean, you probably solve logic puzzles for fun! You look like you’re really good at thinking! Wait, not that you look like a nerd, but - uh - like, in a hot way - shit, no, I mean - "

End me. Just smite me down right here between Settlers of Catan and Uno.

Waving his hands now, panicking in real time. You, somehow composed, just turned the game box over and calmly read the back, letting him spiral like a dying Beyblade.

“I just meant - it’s a bad game,” he added weakly. “Like, the win condition is unclear and the rulebook has typos and there’s no official errata - it's just, um… bad design.”

You finally looked back up at him. “So what game would you recommend?”

For a second, Gojo just stood there.

You're still talking to me. Oh god. Oh no. You, beautiful and stunning, want my opinion. My professional opinion. I can’t screw this up

“S-Splendor,” Satoru blurted, voice cracking at the edges. “Or maybe Wingspan? No wait. Cascadia? Or - do you like deck-building mechanics? I could make a whole list. I actually have a spreadsheet. A whole reddit. ”

You absolute loser.

But you were… smiling. Just a little. And nodding like you were genuinely interested.

Gojo, poor nerd Gojo, practically short-circuited on the spot.

You ended up leaving the store with a board game you didn’t plan on buying. Not because of the game, really. But because the tall, twitchy, white-haired guy with far too much enthusiasm had somehow roped you into a monologue about probability mechanics, game balance, and “that one time my friend Nanami rage quit a co-op dungeon crawl.”

He was… weird. But kind of charming. In a feral raccoon digging through your trash for affection kind of way.

“So, uh,” he said, hovering beside you outside the store, practically bouncing on his heels, “if you ever want to, y’know, play a game or something - like, totally casually, not like, a date, unless you want it to be, which - no pressure - uh - I just thought maybe you’d be into - um…”

He trailed off. Heart thundering. Couldn't even ask Reddit for Advice You stared. He swallowed. Blinking rapidly, those pretty-blues darted anywhere but you.

“…I run a D&D campaign,” Satoru said suddenly. “Every Friday night. Very low-commitment! Very chill! High-level story arcs. I made all the NPCs. I do voices. I - it’s cool. I swear.”

What are you doing what are you DOING you weren’t supposed to tell them about the campaign yet they’ll think you’re weird this is why you don’t have a girlfriend Satoru you idiot -

But you smiled. Then handed him your phone - little charm dangling off the case. Something cute. You probably picked out without a second thought. God, he’d kill to have matching phone charms with you.

“…Add your number,” you said. “Text me the details.”

He blinked at the phone, questioning how he is worthy enough to text you. Then promptly fumbled it, typed his name with three emojis, deleted them, re-added one, panicked, backspaced everything, and tried again.

You mentioned you had class.

Right. You're busy. That's fine. Yes. He has your number. Oh god why is his heart pounding so loud. Can you hear it? Could you feel it when his hand brushed against yours?

Satoru nodded too fast. Rushed words as you trailed away with a wave. He was left there wondering what your major was. Who you knew. If you'd actually show up next Friday. If he’d just imagined all of this.

When he finally texted you later, it read:

Hey it’s Gojo from the bookstore 🧠 I asked my party and there’s a spot open in the campaign 👀 you’d be perfect. Unless you hate fun. Then we can just play Wingspan lol anyway let me know!! pls 🥺

And before you could even respond, another message came in.

also pls ignore any typos i'm at the gym 💪getting ready for all those monsters we're going to be slayin ⚔️

Friday night. Gojo’s apartment. He had cleaned. Like, deep cleaned. Scrubbed corners no one would ever look at. Decorated the bathroom. Lit a candle that smelled like vanilla and cedar. (He may or may not have spent an hour on Reddit reading forums titled “What candle scents make girls fall in love with you?” and this one had the best upvotes.)

He had set the scene. Maps unfurled like ancient scrolls of destiny. Dice sets lined up in a neat little rainbow offering to the gods of chance. Snacks meticulously arranged in what was supposed to be a dragon shape, though now it looked like a pile with tiny wings. Still. It was the thought that counted.

Everything was ready.

You're coming. Oh god. You're really coming. You're gonna sit here. With me. Maybe next to me. Or maybe not. No - no, no, you can sit next to Shoko. Or Nanami. Shit. What if you like Nanami? Oh my god, what if you like Nanami and not me? He’s got that broody thing.

He paced.

Screw it. Just play my campaign. Laugh at my jokes. Please. Just - please think I’m cool. Just once. Please don’t see through how desperate I am.

He adjusted his glasses. Then adjusted them again. Re-checked his rulebooks even though he wrote half the notes inside them himself. He’d already rehearsed your character’s intro fifteen times. But he did it again.

“…and as the tavern door creaks open, a figure steps through the mist. Cloaked in shadows, yet - no. No, too dramatic. They’ll think I’m trying too hard. Which I am, but like, subtle. Okay. Again - ”

His voice cracked mid-practice. He flopped down into his DM chair, then stood up again two seconds later, muttering, “Nope, can’t sit. Gonna combust.”

They’re gonna be here soon. They’re gonna walk through that door and I’m gonna die. Literally die. Headlines: Local Dungeon Master Dies When Pretty Person Shows Up.

The doorbell buzzed. Satoru physically jolted. Then stood there frozen in front of the door, hands out like he was about to catch a falling star. Or a live grenade.

Okay. Okay. It’s fine. Just breathe. Be normal. Don’t say anything weird. Don't tell them about the custom soundtrack you made for their backstory. Don't confess anything emotionally compromising in the first five minutes.

He opened the door. A stupid smile formed on his face.

Is he blushing? Please don't be blushing. Oh no. They’re even cuter than I remembered. I’m so screwed.

Wearing the coziest hoodie. Carrying a dice bag. Smiling. Beside you - because of course - was Geto Suguru. Satoru’s longtime friend. Fellow player. Tall. Cool. Calm. Hair tied back in a lazy bun that somehow made him hotter. That bastard. Satoru barely had time to panic before you laughed at something Geto said. A soft, amused laugh that curled around Gojo’s ribs and squeezed.

Then it happened. You looked at Geto. Blushed. Just the faintest pink brushing your cheeks. Just a second too long of eye contact. Just enough to punch Satoru square in his already fragile, overly romantic, nerdy heart.

You don’t like him. Right? No. It’s just warm. It’s almost summer. The hallway’s probably stuffy. Your hoodie’s too thick. That’s it. That’s all it is.

“Hey,” you greeted, blissfully unaware of his internal collapse.

“H-Hey!” Satoru yelped, voice cracking at a completely unnecessary octave. “You made it! That’s so cool. That’s - you look. Uh. Dice. You brought dice. Awesome. Good job.”

What the hell are you saying? Shut up.

Geto smiled at him. That smug, easy smile that Satoru had seen melt hearts and start trouble since freshman year.

“You didn’t tell me your new player was cute,” he said, tone maddeningly casual. You blinked. Satoru stopped breathing.

“Oh,” you said, voice softening, eyes flicking away. A little flustered. “Um. Thanks.”

You’re just being polite. That’s not real. That wasn’t real. Right?

Satoru forced a smile that came out more like a grimace. His brain was melting. His heart was clawing against his ribs.

“Haha! Yeah. So anyway! Let’s, uh. Go. Sit. Down. And have a drink. Or a seat. Or both. Whatever people do. When they enter rooms. With other people.”

Oh my god, please shut up. Please shut up. You’re going to die here and your ghost will be a virgin forever.

a/n: if you see any mistakes...no you don't totally not editing this while getting ready for wicked...totally not

steal my girl — gojo satoru

synopsis. the time gojo and megumi decided to crash your date.

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo roping megumi into his loser activities, timeskips, tw sappy

notes. this drabble has been rotting in my brain for over a year. finally wrote it!

“I’m going on a date.”

It only took five simple words from you to make the world’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer drop to his knees. For the first time in his life, Gojo could swear he was experiencing shortness of breath. And was it just him, or were the walls closing in?

“What?” The word leaves his mouth like a demand rather than a question. He’s trying so hard not to overreact, but your overjoyed face makes it nearly impossible not to succumb to the ugly green monster clawing at his insides.

“Well,” you push his shoulder playfully. “Don’t act so surprised. You’re not the only one that pulls.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gojo mutters under his breath, eye twitching. Don’t you know how hard he works to deter any suitors vying for your attention when the two of you are out? He’s practically a rabid dog growling at anyone who so much as breathes in your direction.

Hell, even Shoko once mentioned to him something about being a “registered pervert” at most establishments you frequent together.

 Not his finest moments.

You eye Satoru suspiciously before continuing. That was your first mistake.

“Yeah, he’s taking me to that new Michelin Star restaurant downtown,” you sigh dreamily. “I mean, seriously. Isn’t that so cool?”

Gojo scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “If that’s what you wanted, you could’ve just said so. I know a place that has three Michelin Stars.”

You pout. “Well, it’s different with you.”

Gojo’s eyebrow quirks up. “How so?”

“You’re a friend. And with him…” You trail off, suddenly feeling shy under Gojo’s piercing gaze. Heat creeps up your neck, blooming across your cheeks as you toy with the hem of your sleeve. “It’s a lot more romantic.”

Gojo thinks he could just die.

The word romantic rings in his ears, and it was deafening. It digs into his ribs and squeezes at something raw inside him. He’s the strongest sorcerer alive, yet right now, he feels utterly powerless against the way your voice softens when you talk about someone else. Against the way your lips curve at the thought of another man.

He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Romantic, huh?” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge to it.

You nod, eyes glimmering with something dreamy, something distant, and Gojo wants to reach out and wipe it away. He wants that look—wants to be the reason for it.

If you wanted romance, he could give you romance.

Better romance.

A grand plan manifests in his head, spinning to life at full speed. 

Oh, this poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.

The moment Megumi sees Gojo enter his and Tsumiki’s shared apartment, he knows something is wrong. There’s a certain energy in the air, a distinct lack of peace that Gojo drags with him that makes the eight year old’s stomach churn.

“Fushiguro!” Gojo’s voice rings out, far too enthusiastic for Megumi’s liking. “We have a problem.”

Megumi barely glances up from his book. “We?”

Gojo makes himself at home and slings an arm around his shoulders. “Yes, we. Our dear [Name] here has a date.”

Megumi's grip on his book tightens, his interest sparking at the mention of you. Where Gojo lacked maturity, you balanced it effortlessly. He liked that about you. He liked you.

Megumi blinks once. “And?”

Gojo sighs dramatically. “And we can’t just let her go unprotected, can we?”

“Unprotected?” Megumi repeats, deadpan. “From what? Bad table manners?”

“From heartbreak, Megumi!” Gojo places a hand over his chest, looking scandalized. “What if this guy is a total loser? What if he chews with his mouth open? What if he’s a handsy creep?”

Megumi’s expression darkens. He had been indifferent before, but now there’s a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He doesn’t like the idea of you being stuck with some no-good scrub who isn’t worthy. In a series of twisted events, you and that white haired idiot had managed to become the only constants in his life. The last thing he wanted was for some random guy to come along and take you away.

“We need to intervene,” Gojo presses, watching the flicker of hesitation in Megumi’s expression. His usual deadpan exterior is cracking, just a little. Gojo knows he has him.

Megumi exhales sharply, gripping his book a little too tightly. “I am not going to ruin their date.” His voice is firm, but there’s a sliver of doubt wedged between the words. Gojo seizes it like a cat pouncing on its prey.

“Ruin?” Gojo gasps, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “Megumi, this is purely a background check.” His grin stretches.

Megumi glares at him. “It could be considered stalking.”

Gojo waves him off. “Pfft. Such an ugly word. I prefer ‘protective oversight’.”

“You don’t even know if he’s a bad person.”

Gojo tilts his head, feigning deep thought. “Oh, you’re right. Maybe he’s perfect. Maybe he’ll take such good care of her that we won’t be needed anymore.”

Megumi stiffens, and Gojo bites back a smirk.

“That’s not—” Megumi starts, but Gojo steamrolls over him.

“I mean, think about it. If this date goes well, they might actually start dating. And then what? She’ll start spending more time with him.” Gojo nudges him. “She’ll run off and start a new family.”

Megumi’s jaw tightens. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously right,” Gojo corrects cheerfully. 

Megumi runs a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. He already knows Gojo won’t drop this, and, annoyingly, he’s already planted the seed of doubt in his mind.

Gojo leans in, voice lower, almost serious. “You care about her, don’t you?”

Megumi exhales sharply. “...Yeah.”

“And you’d rather make sure she’s safe than sit around wondering?”

Megumi stares at him for a long moment, then groans. “Fine. But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

Gojo grins, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s go before you start growing a conscience.”

The night was supposed to be perfect. A well earned break. It your first real date in a while. Probably your first since meeting Gojo. Though, strangely, you’d never stopped to question why that was.

The guy sitting across from you was a non-sorcerer, and while his looks had been enough to catch your attention when he first asked you out, the novelty was wearing off fast. His personality was as flat and each word he spoke draining more of your enthusiasm. You found yourself nodding along absently, barely listening, already regretting your decision.

Still, you just had to stick it out until the food arrived. Then you could eat, make an excuse, and be done with this painfully dull evening.

Though, just when you thought the night was starting to get interesting, a familiar voice cuts through the elegant ambiance of the restaurant.

“Mom, who is this strange man?”

Your choke on your wine at the familiar voice while your date stiffens.

You turn slowly, dread pooling in your stomach as you come face-to-face with Megumi, standing at your table with his arms crossed. His expression is perfectly deadpan, but you see the flicker of mischief in his eyes, a familiar gleam of mischief that could only be the work of a certain white-haired man lurking nearby.

“E-eh?!” You sputter, glancing between Megumi and your date.

Your date looks thoroughly confused. “Do you… know this child?”

“N-no—I mean, yes, but—”

Megumi doesn’t give you a chance to explain. Instead, he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “And what will Gojo—Dad—say about this?”

The words slam into you like a truck.

Your date’s jaw drops. “You’re married?”

“N-no!”

“Then why is he calling you Mom?”

You glare at Megumi, but he just shrugs, completely unbothered.

“Come home,” Megumi continues with a sigh. “Tsumiki misses you too.”

“You have multiple children?!”

Your date looks absolutely horrified, like he’s just found himself in the middle of a scandalous affair. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Listen, if you’re going through a divorce or something, we don’t have to do this—”

Before you can defend yourself, another, far-too-cheerful voice joins in.

“There you are, sweetheart!”

Gojo waltzes up to the table, dressed in his finest suit and those damn glasses he only wore on special occasions. He places a hand on your shoulder and turns to your date with an exaggeratedly apologetic expression. “Sorry, buddy, but this one’s a real work. You know it took me two kids to finally tie her down?”

Your date glances between you, Megumi, and Gojo, his eyes wide with pure panic, as if he’s just stumbled into something far beyond his comprehension. His grip tightens around his napkin, knuckles white. “I—I think I should go.”

You lurch forward, reaching out as if that might stop him. “No, wait—!”

But it’s already too late. He’s scrambling for his coat, chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushes back from the table, nearly knocking over his drink in his rush. Without sparing you another glance, he spins on his heel and all but bolts toward the exit, shoulders hunched as if he’s trying to make himself smaller.

You sit frozen for a second, blinking at the now-empty seat across from you. Then, slowly, you turn toward the culprits, fists clenched at your sides.

“You two,” you hiss, voice low and simmering with fury, “are in serious trouble.”

Megumi has the decency to look guilty, staring down at his lap, shifting awkwardly in his seat as if he’s just now realizing the full extent of what they’ve done.

Gojo, on the other hand, is utterly shameless. He stands there in all his smug glory, adjusting his sunglasses with a satisfied smirk. 

You grab your purse and storm out of the restaurant, with the two trailing behind you like two guilty kids.

“You know,” Gojo muses, “I think that went pretty well.”

You round on him so fast that even he takes a step back. “Pretty well?! You humiliated me! That poor guy thinks I have an entire secret family!”

Gojo snickers. “Well, technically, you do.”

You jab a finger into his chest. “You are not my husband.”

“But wouldn’t it be great if I was?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Megumi lets out a long sigh. “Please don’t entertain him. I’m sorry, [Name].” His blue eyes are trained onto the floor, “I just didn’t think he was good enough for you.”

You exhale sharply, some of your anger ebbing as you glance between the two of them.

“It’s okay, Megumi,” you sigh, your frustration softening at the sight of his guilty expression. You could never stay mad at him, not with that face.

Gojo, however, was a different story.

Slowly, you turn to him, eyes narrowing. “You—”

He grins, entirely unrepentant. “Me?”

Oh, he was so in for it.

Although he had been shamelessly unapologetic at the time, Gojo still found ways to complain about that night, even years later, after you were finally married.

“It was an unusually cruel punishment,” your husband whines dramatically, draping his entire body weight onto you as if his sheer presence could sway your sympathy.

“You mean the silent treatment?” you deadpan, eyes still trained on Megumi practicing his cursed technique across the yard. “It was only a week. Could’ve been longer if you hadn’t harassed everyone around me until they practically begged me to forgive you.”

Gojo lifts his head just enough to shoot you an exaggerated pout. “I don’t harass people. I simply exist, and they just happen to find me irresistible.”

“You tend to have the exact opposite effect, actually.”

“Ten years later, and you’re still so cruel to me.” He sighs heavily, as if burdened by the weight of your terrible treatment, before shoving his face into the crook of your neck. “You wound me, wife.”

You laugh, warmth bubbling in your chest as his breath tickles your skin. “You’re impossible.”

A loud thud interrupts the moment, and you both glance over just in time to see Megumi scowling, his stance off from a misstep in his training.

“You are still disgusting after all of these years,” he grumbles, adjusting his form before going at it again.

Gojo beams. “Aww, he likes us.”

You shake your head, smiling. “He tolerates us.”

“Eh, same thing.” Gojo squeezes you tighter, pressing a loud, obnoxious kiss to your cheek just to be insufferable.

Megumi groans. “Seriously, get a room.”

Gojo smirks, wiggling his brows. “Don’t tempt me, kid.”

You barged into Suguru's dorm room, a determined look on your face. As his friend, you felt it was right to tell him the truth and what has been bothering you lately. And you didn't want it to affect your friendship with him any longer.

"I'm sorry Suguru, for the way I've been acting," you looked away from him as he glanced up from his phone, "the thing is, I love Satoru. That's why I've been acting weird ever since the three of us started hanging out. Sorry."

You quickly left the room while hoping that Suguru didn't follow you and that tomorrow everything will go back to how it once was.

Meanwhile, Suguru looked back down at his phone. Satoru's caller id was on full display.

"Suguru did i hear that cor-"

Suguru hung up.

Why must his two idiot best friends be in love and oblivious? Though, he guesses that it was about time that one of you made a move, even if it was on accident.

HOW TO MAKE UP WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND ♡.ᐟ.ᐟ⸻ still not a guide. (yandere Gojo)

cw✶ yandere Gojo, he is a creep in the shadows, established relationship, they semi break up for a bit, reader with mental health problems, pining on either side if you think about it, fem reader, p in v sex, rough sex, feels like hate sex, but really make up sex, Gojo is lowkey obsessive af, oral sex (f! receiving), biting, spit stuff, cum play, breeding kink, borderline dub-con, but ykw that opens up a new gate for them, they are freaks and they are into that shit, never getting rid of this cock-roach.

<<PART ONE

a/n: again, sorry for late upload, but also not. but big thankies for 1k+ followers<3 have funnnn also oof. that's allllll~

Imagine kissing your girlfriend as you both cum together. And after you clean yourself and your girlfriend, you two cuddle and drift off to sleep, while whispering sweet nothings and imagining a future together. How picture perfect.

Or so it would seem to everyone. 

While Gojo Satoru is too busy buying a ring, getting the perfect plot to build a house—nay, home—with you, and imagining about adopting more cats and a dog maybe, making children with you, who must look like you; you were still trying to run from him.  

But Gojo Satoru is nothing, if not confident, not just in himself but also in his love for you. And if he has kept you tied to him for two whole years, a lifetime together will be plausible as well. Even if it means taking some difficult measures, despite his poor heart. Because he would never do anything to hurt you! How could he? It was as if his own source of life laid in your hands, and harming that vessel would be a foolish attack on himself. 

But when the time came that you stopped your meandering tactics of trying to get rid of him—scheming poorly staged fights could only get you too far—and just told him upfront, “I want to break up.” He almost lost it. 

You did expect at the very least few tears, and at most groveling; holding onto your legs and getting dragged on the floor, while tears and snot ran down his orifices—that type of begging. Yet, all he did was take off his apron, which he always wears while cooking for you, that says ‘husband material’, and silently walked out of the main door. As the soup on the stove boiled down to nothing and the rice became stale in the rice cooker—Satoru did not return.

And day by day his absence was chipping away at your sanity. Maybe it was the lack of delicious and nutritious meals he cooked you; toast and peanut butter with instant coffee for breakfast and take out for dinner, was not the way to keep yourself alive. And the lack of him was more apparent with the creases on your clothes, pile of laundry, the missing coats that went to be dry cleaned. Somehow dishes for one person were piling up in the sink like a huge mountain. And your cat was getting just as anxious as you—all the rivalry he had with Satoru was gone in an instant when he could not see the white fluff of hair being shoved in his belly. 

On top of all that it was as if everyone was out to piss you off. Your parents’ calls to just nag you were getting more annoying than ever, when Satoru was not around to swoop in at just the right time before a fight broke out, and took the phone from you to entertain your parents with his charm. Even they were starting to question the lack of Satoru from miles of distance. And your friend was asking about Satoru’s chocolate cake recipe. So the wisest thing you could do in this situation? Isolate of course.

Maybe the last straw was your colleague commenting on your sunken and dark eye bags. Or maybe it was the overgrown and chipped off nails, on your hand, and the dirt accumulated in the nails of your feet. Or just maybe it was the lack of his sweet whispers and head pats at night, while he held you close to his chest. The sound of his heartbeats always drowned out any worries that dared to come to your mind when you were in his arms. Or maybe it was the absence of how cold he felt to touch compared to your burning hands. 

And now it was just the air conditioner blasting excessively cold air all night long, with no one to turn it off for you when you started to curl up into yourself. All you can do is, just wrap yourself up in the blankets you last used with him, and bury your face in his pillow. Sniffing every last drop of his fading smell, and soaking up the said pillow with your tears.

“It’s ok, sweets. I am right here. Never going anywhere.”

Liar.

You did make sure to not contact him these past few days, and now it was already Saturday. It has been a whole week since you actually broke up with your boyfriend. And on the eighth day, you got drunk enough to black out, not before sending him illegible voice mails of slurred words and aggressive crying. And a wall of equally illegible texts, with occasional voice notes of, more crying. 

It was pathetic. Were you not the one trying to drive him away? And now you're just doing these things to make things harder for not just yourself, but also him. It was the last thing you wanted.

But it is not your fault the thought or him won't leave you alone. Yet he also left you behind. 

He might have already found someone better. Maybe he found someone since you started this whole charade, that is why he walked out so easily without a word. In a year you might receive a mocking invitation to their wedding, and postcards of their kids in Christmas pajamas with their pets. And thinking about all that first thing in the morning after drinking like a fish, was more nauseating than days old milk. 

Rotten and expired.

Maybe that's how he sees you now. Exactly with those disappointed eyes, just as the stares he is giving out to you while sitting on the couch with his legs spread and his hands holding each other. Great. Now you're hallucinating him. Time to actually see a therapist instead of making excuses.

“Did you drink last night?” 

Mirage Satoru’s low and demanding voice sure felt like real Satoru huh? But not really. Since you've never heard him speak to you in that tone. Satoru has maintained the most soft and affectionate voice with you since you've met. One time you got close to hearing the real Satoru speak in that tone, you caught him on the phone with someone from his office. And upon your arrival he quickly hung up for some reason and changed back to the sweet Satoru you know.

“I asked you something. Didn't I?”

Your mind sure does work wonders. First at making you feel like the worst living being alive, then making mirage Satoru follow you to the bathroom in the most perfectly matched cadence as real Satoru. You never really knew how much attention you paid to his every little move until now. That saying about only realizing something's worth when it's actually gone, sure hits home.

“Are you still drunk?” Oh shit. 

This was definitely the real Satoru, standing beside you, in front of the sink. Because you have been here before, with a hangover, trying to splash water in your face to somehow alleviate the headache. And Satoru always stood beside you like this, with a smile on his face and asked you the same thing. Difference is that his hands were always on you, instead of in his pockets, like right now. 

“What- why are you-” “I think we have plenty of time to find such unimportant answers. Hmm?” This was very much the real Satoru, but the condescending tone he used to cut off your, granted confused, rambling—that was not your Satoru.

But maybe this is alright. Because you are not sure if you can call him yours anymore.

“Did you think you got rid of me?” He leaned down to come face to face with you, and some more, making you effectively lean away from him and backing down towards the sink. Not a great idea, because it leaves you no option but to be trapped in between both of his arms on either side of you, holding himself to lean into you with a tight grip on the marble, turning his knuckles white. And his eyes were not as usual, but somehow a darker shade of blue, and much out of character, with no shine in them. There was a smirk on his lips, more patronizing than his words, but it did not not reach his eyes.

“Did you think we actually broke up?” you respond with nothing at first, but something about his aura told you it was better to answer him than not, so you quickly nodded a weak yes.

“Right. I did leave you alone for a week. Since that is what you have been trying right? For me to leave you alone.” He finished the sentence by lifting one of his hands off the edge of the sink counter to only squeeze your face and pulled you closer to him by your jaw. “You really tried hard huh? Well. sorry to tell you that it did not work.”

Whether or not you guys are over or not, was not your concern currently. He knew. He knew this entire time.

“How long?” you managed to muffle out, with the inside of your cheeks pushed in, not letting your tongue move freely. 

“Since you started this dumb charade. From your very obvious hints to complaining to your friends.” So he knew all along. Maybe he knew about this longer than you.

“Why?” You asked weakly, already thinking about a thousand ways this could go wrong. “Because I know how you get in your own head. Doesn’t take much huh.” You involuntarily shake your head from side to side. And something about your face squeezed in his hands, and your hand holding onto his wrist, while you shook your head, was too cute for him to hold back a giggle. It was precious, the way he bent down his head, to have his hair cover the crinkles of his eyes, and the stretch of smile across his face. But he could only hide so much. 

“So. Did you like your little single life for a week?” The answer was an instant “no.”

But Satoru really did not have to even ask to know that. After all, even when he was away from you, he was still there. Watching you come in and out of the apartment, the horrible state of the kitchen, watching you struggle with your cat to quiet down his meows, coming back from work and just lying face down on the couch and crying until you fell asleep. Or when your parents pestered you about him, and you got in another fight with them, to ignoring their calls from then on; he heard all of that. He also heard you tip toe around your friends whenever he came up in the conversation, until you finally told your friend and cried in her arms that whole night, and how she struggled to put you to bed. He also saw her take your cat with her for a few days until you got your shit together. 

He was always watching. From the shadows or from the couch in his penthouse, he saw you struggling with even brushing your teeth, ignoring your basic hygiene some days. Afterall he was the one always when things got this bad. But now he was not there. 

He also saw you crying in the shower, or when you squirmed under your blankets trying to find some sort of distraction and pleasure, to maybe forget the situation at hand for some time. He fisted his own cock at you struggling to please yourself like he did, then came to you crying miserably on your pillows. On more than one occasion.

He was tempted at times to come into the apartment while you slept with dried up tears on your face, and cleaned up as much as he could while leaving everything the same as it was to the naked eye. But he never left before sitting somewhere close to you and just watching you sleep. He knew how much of a light sleeper you were, so he could not risk anything, except for a few kisses and cleaning your face with a wet towel.

He was actually watching you while you got shitfaced last night and sent him all those voicemails and texts. 

But maybe these were things best left unknown by you.

“Still want to be single?” He offered as if it was even an option. “No.” 

“Good girl.” Maybe because he has never used such a term with you, or maybe it was the smile on his face that he did not hide away and reached his eyes. Or maybe because the smile felt more threatening than a knife being held to your neck. But it stirred up a storm in your stomach. And just as you thought those waves in your stomach could not get more intense, he lifted you off the floor, on his shoulder, and walked over to your bed with ease.

“A punishment is still due, sweets.” 

Honestly it was hard to tell what exactly had your pussy twitching in your panties—the fact that he was calling you sweets when you thought you would never hear that again, or that this was a completely new side to the Satoru you know and love, or just the sheer force with which he slammed you down on the bed. Either way it was all too fast and all too new for your brain to register anything at an acceptable pace.

“Let’s treat you how you want to be treated.” His body was basically pinning you down to the mattress, holding himself up with the support of his left hand beside your face, while the right hand hiked up your thighs, all the way up to your hips and pinning them further into the mattress. While working hard to not leave a single nook on your neck left unmarked. He has always been so gentle in bed, but this felt like somehow he was more comfortable not trying to treat you like some fine china.

He is kissing you, shoving his tongue in your mouth exploring everything that he has never touched. The next moment you are stripped down to your panties and flipped over to straddle his face. “SATORU!”

“What?” he asked so nonchalantly like he was not in a struggle with your thighs to sit you down on his face. Especially when he is not giving a second to process anything, but too lost into cranking his neck up to kiss you through your panties one moment and just tearing the panties off you, also pocketing them for some unknown reason.

“DID YOU JUST-I cannot!” “Not asking you to do anything sweets. I will be doing everything.” The smile with which he said those words, should be illegal. Because how dare it make you so weak in the knees and more, that you topple down and fall right where he wanted you. “Thank you for the meal.”

It is not that you have never imagined this, in fact quite often you have caught yourself thinking that his face is quite ‘rideable’. If you previously thought that he is a good eater, time to reevaluate his skills. His teeth pulled your lips open, to lick a long and anguished strip down, from your clit to your now twitching hole. After a week away from you, one would expect Gojo Satory to dive in like he is dehydrated, he might as well be, but the sheer will to torment you as a payback was all that was holding him back. 

Even when your thighs were engulfing his entire face, and the weight of you was heavy on him, he was still in control. His tongue, oh so skilled and flexible, laid flat and heavy pressed against your cunt as if it did not know what to do with all that. Even with all the whining and attempts at grinding on his face, maybe getting his nose to press on your clit or having the rough texture of his tongue drive you just where you needed to be—it was all fruitless, in front of his strength holding you still, leaving you to only clutch the headboard for your dear sanity.  

“Please- please, please Satoru, I am so-so s- sorry. Please.”

Maybe it was the apology or just that his self control withering away, but he finally started to work on your folds. Each drag of his tongue was agonizingly visceral, and just the feeling of his tongue pushing into your hole and hardening was enough, to make you consider maybe the slow pace was better than him  giving it his all like a depraved man. It was all sloppy licks and plush lips sucking on your clit. The noises were deafening, not just from your sopping cunt, but also the whines and grunts being muffled by your skin. But really he has always been deprived and hungry for you, it is just that he decided to shield you away from that side of him, for your sake really. He could inhale you entirely and keep wanting more, you were worse than sugar to him.

Everything was a mess, no words of warning could leave you before you came squirting all over his face. He kept holding you down on him, twitching and quivering from the sheer intensity in the air. And he did not shy away from licking away at every drop of saccharine juice dripping off you. When he pulled away to push back the hair in his face, it was wet, not just with sweat but with everything that you squirted all over him. And you could not decide if that was the most embarrassing thing or was it the string of spit still connecting your pussy to his mouth, or maybe the all natural glow he got on his face covered in your juices.

Your boyfriend sure values his time, because he spends no time flipping you back on the mattress, takes off his soaked shirt and situates himself right between your legs. And you would think, this is it. But no, instead he is moving up to forcibly open your mouth with his fingers, and pulling your tongue out to hold it down with his thumb. 

“Ahhhh.” And he is spitting out everything in his mouth on your tongue. His other hand moves up to your throat to squeeze the side and prevent you from swallowing anything that he gives you oh so graciously. All while the hardness of his cock, rubs your overstimulated pussy through the rough denim.

“Spit.” He instructs you as he opens his own mouth and moves his tongue forward for you to give him back what he lent, to take it all back and more with your own saliva mixed into the substance. So you do as asked, pulling yourself slightly off the bed to reach his tongue and roping them together. 

Satoru does all that to only spit it all out of his mouth. But that was the plan from the beginning, to drench your cunt with everything you and him. And that pushes you into some weird space where it feels like you might suffocate or come. It was the second one, you came from the hot liquid flowing down your slit and accumulating around your hole, and dripping further down to your ass. And his fingers spread it all over. Threading them carefully to give just enough but also nothing. 

While you throbbed in white ecstasy, Satoru got to work with the rest of clothes on his body. He gives you no time to flip you back over, and presses you down. This was new, you cannot remember when you were ever fucked by him in any other position than missionary. But you are not granted the time to relax and get used to this, because Satoru is already shoving himself inside you. Not easing into anything, just forcing the length of his cock inside you with no will to get you used to anything.

And with a few stops, because even when he has no intention for you to feel comfortable, he wants you on the edge and overstimulated, but the anger is nothing to your tight walls and warmth. So he staggers a bit, but gets all of him inside you, right up to the base of his cock. Then usually he gives you all the sweet time to get used to the stretch before he starts fucking you. But truly you have taken his nicety for granted, when he spends no time to give you a mean thrust, followed by more, each thrust getting more and more vigorous and sloppy with passing time.

“Yeah, you are taking it all huh. Do you love it? Now that i am fucking you like some slut? Is this what you wanted?” He rapidly slurs all that out, his mind more focused on the view of your ass recoiling with the force of his thrust, and his dick disappearing inside you. “This is what you deserve right? Come one, answer me.” 

“YES. y-yess.”

You are gripping onto the same pillows you cried on last night, and similarly to the past seven days, they were soaked in your tears. Just this time around it was from the amount of pleasure you felt in the pain. For the first time in your life, pain felt sweet, addictive. 

Satoru’s right hand was holding you by the waist, probably leaving an imprint of his callouses from the grip, trying to keep you still from hitting your head on the headboard. His hips however did not stop for a second, they quivers, and staggered, but they never stopped. It was the built up desires he locked away to make you feel like a doll, but since that is not what you wanted, he can surely take you out of the glass display from time to time to play with you. 

Satoru leaned down on your back, to push his chest to your back, and nuzzled in the side of your face. His lips found your ear, biting them to have you turn your head and look at him, to only collide his lips to yours. It was messy and raw, just tongue and teeth, spit dripping to your chin, like you have never been kissed before and he has never kissed before. And more than enough to make you cum again.

“I’m going to fill ya’ up. Fill ya’ full with my cum, until you are too filled to take any more. And I’ll just shove it all back into you. Plug you up.” His thrusts were starting to shatter more and more. “You’ll like that right? Hmm?” Nothing about you makes him think rationally, in fact you quite literally challenge his sanity. But he cannot help but love you, want you, need you even. 

“I’m gonna fill you up with my kids. Breed ya’ full, so you can never run away from me.”

You did not hate that idea. When his breaths are getting heavier with every second, and his nails are digging into your waist, and his face is pushing itself in your hair; you are actually hoping he keeps his word. 

And he does, you can feel every rope of cum he shoots up your walls, how his cock twitches inside you, making you clench around him in return—he is cumming inside you. Filling you up with his seed, shoving his cock further up your tubes, hitting your cervix one too many times to leave you capable of walking tomorrow. And it was all slimy and sloppy, you have never felt this wet, and you liked the feeling and idea of Satoru’s cum gushing inside you, creeping up to your womb and tying you down to him, forever.

While you are too busy hitting a fourth orgasm, and getting lost in the feeling of Satoru’s cum filling up your walls—Satoru’s left hand creeps up to your left hand, and slips the coveted ring that he kept safe with him, on your ring finger. He plops down on you, still connected to you by your cunt, and brings your left hand to his lips and kisses it, before moving to your face and kissing you. 

“Finally.” He wishepers, more to himself than for your ears to pick it up.

“I am not taking a no. I will tie you up if necessary.”

"I love you a lot you know?"

Maybe you have finally gone insane. Because honestly, you would not have it any other way. You might try to run again just to have Satoru chase you down and corner you, and lock you up. Maybe it was the thrill, or just the sheer need to piss him off to the point he shatters into nothing but the most authentic image of himself—but either way you had no plans of leaving your boyfriend. You need Gojo Satoru, you need him more than you need oxygen to breathe.  

"I love you too."

He is essential for your survival, and you are integral to his existence.

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

a/n: dividers by @/omi-resources. header (i edited the original to fit the blue theme) by the artist Tony Belobrajdic (this is his insta go follow him or at least check it it is gorgeous)

did not edit it halfway through. please spare me.

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @naomigojo @naomi-main @cuntphoric @nanamiskentos @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @fushitoru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @gojosconsort @alygator77 @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @ricecake-mochi @nonamebbsblog @genshingeeksworld @splat1371 @stxrlingpearl @satorushousewife @teyamsjustsleeping (the one and only, planted the seed for part 2)

How to breakup with your boyfriend ⸻ not a guide.

tw: mentions of food, just NSFW stuff, mention of periods, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving), p in v sex, no clear pronouns used for the reader, but written as a fem oriented person, insecurities, trauma responses.

If someone asked you what's your boyfriend like? — you'd say, "GREAT!"

And no it is not to compensate for the fact how badly you want to break up with him. It is infact that he is just great! No complaints really. Gojo Satoru was perfect.

He was kind, caring, attentive, and sweet. He knew when to just sit there and agree with you when you're telling him about this horrible fight you had with your parents, and not give you unwanted and unsolicited advice. He also knows exactly at what time to feed your cats, water your plants, how you like your coffee, which days you do your laundry — how you like them done. Which specific clothes are supposed to be sent for dry cleaning, and he drops them off on his way to work and pick them back up when they are done.

Satoru knows what foods you are allergic to, and which ones you're 'allergic' to (read: do not like to eat)—so he will be the first one at a table full of people you've known for decades, to say something like, "oh this dish has corn? Ah. Y/n can't have corn, allergies you know."

He also knows which detergent to pick up, which fabric softer you use. He knows your period dates and the brand of tampons and pads you use. He remembers your birthday, your cat's birthday, your parents' birthday, your bestfriend's birthday! He gets you your favourite cake to celebrate your promotion. He will watch every bad movie, every gore or horror movie and whatever you want, it doesn't matter if he doesn't like them.

He is one of those people who will cover the head of the car's entrence after opening the door for you so you don't hit your head there, he'll cover the corner and the sides of the table as you move around to find something you dropped and urge you to sit back up, so he can pick it up for you.

When you guys kissed for the first time, he let you take the lead, to make you feel comfortable knowing that you're quite inexperienced. He'd rather eat you out for days on, tongue inside you, on your clit, fingers and all than have you give him a head. Unless you want to! And sometimes you do want to. And when you do, despite his urge to push your head down on his cock, he resists. His hands are always in your hair, pushing it back in a comfortable ponytail. Always complimenting you and telling you how well you're doing. He won't leave marks on you if you don't want him to cause of an important work event, he'll even resist his impending urge to bite you. Even sex is just very sweet, he's the most gentle when pushing himself inside you. He simply worships your body and-

Ugh! You get it! He is absolutely picture perfect.

So back to the matter at hand. Why would you ever want to break up with a person like that? Maybe because he is just TOO perfect. There is a thing called overbearing, sometimes it feels like— he's too overwhelming, and all too consumed with you.

You do not really mind the last part—but maybe you don't want a man who's straight out of fiction! You weren't familiar with such treatment all your life really, this all can be too new. You do see him treating others more roughly when needed. But he's just so delicate with you. Not that it is a bad thing, but sometimes you'd rather he stayed rough around the edges. Being treated like a fragile doll to the maximum does sound great in theory, but in practice it can make you feel pathetic.

You have tried to breakup with satoru on multiple occasions. First you started dropping hints here and there, seeming to be uncertain about your future together —all he'd say is, "don't worry your pretty head about the future sweets, I'm planning accordingly."

You've started picking unreasonable fights with him more often, whether you'd get genuinely pissed off or not, you'd fight him over the most silliest things. "Why did you turn over the pillow on this side?? You should know I don't like this side! How could you not know!? It's like you don't even know me Satoru!"

All he'd respond with, "I'm so sorry sweetheart. I am genuinely so disappointed in myself. I hope you can forgive me please. I'll make sure to know which side you prefer better from now on. Please sit down and let me finish painting rest of your nails."

Yeah so that also didn't work out huh.

So you opted for for this weird strategy. You told him you wanted to get a nose job — to make it bigger! (No shaming anyone for wanting that just saying this is a very silly strategy you've decided upon). Satoru just smiled and kissed your nose, told you that whatever you'd like to do, he'd love you anyway (Insufferably loving man).

Then you stopped reciprocating his kisses, doging them even. You went as far as to try to not have sex with him. But this bastard is too good, and unfortunately for you despite wanting to break up with him you just still really love him. Too much. And he loves you. Too much.

You'd move your head away and he'd cradle your head in his hands and make you look at him, then let this staring contest go on until you just give in and pull him into a kiss. He'd be very sly about his choice of clothing, his touches, and get you all riled up that you can't just help it! "What happened to the sex ban sweets?" Satoru would whisper smugly in your ears while thrusting in you. Bastard! Even trying to control your expressions mid sex to make yourself seem disinterested was not on the table! He's just that good.

And infact satoru is better than what you think of him. And he's much more perceptive than what you give him the credit for. Because he picked up on this little mission of yours the exact day you probably thought to yourself —i need to leave him. You stayed up the whole night one day and silently went to the living room to go on the internet and search up articles about 'how to break up with my boyfriend'.

I wouldn't say he was not hurt. But he also understood you. He understood you more than yourself at times. He understands that you haven't had the best childhood and the best parents around, resulting into this hyper independent mindset you've curated. You'd rather bleed to death than ask for help. And he gets that you can sometimes get in your own head about things. But he was ready to tackle those things head on the day he signed up to fall inadvertently in love with you. And if you want to make excuses to your friends about him being too soft for the reason behind wanting to break up with him—

He can show you rough. As long as he gets to keep you all to himself, love you and cherish you. However you want.

PART TWO>>

A/n: dividers by— @/omi-resources. To check out more of my stuff click this.

Osamu get up‼️

megumi fushiguro // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

once bitten, twice shy

lost and found

your type?

dark red

pick you up, keep you close

i really (x6) like you

bunny kisses

the flower and the bee

(divine) dog cuddles

off limits

cockblocked by the squad

lover boy.

staring problem

pomegranate problem

conveniently yours

better late than never

you're the only one that's holding me down

takes one to know one

it's fenty

whatever this is

the birthday boy

with you, my fears disappear

hands

diamonds on the skyline

just feel it

laser focus

all my ghosts

making the last sacrifice

see you around

ducky slippers

therefore, i am

BUTTERFLY EFFECT ୨ৎ ryomen sukuna - satoru gojo.

YOU WOULD SLEEP WITH ME, IF YOU COULD DO IT COMFORTABLY — red bull's pit lane? total mayhem, especially with sukuna's temper constantly flaring. so, yeah, things got stressful. and, okay, hooking up with gojo, ferrari's golden boy, wasn't exactly the smartest way to unwind. but, honestly, one tiny slip-up at one tiny party? little did you know, the butterfly effect was inconceivable.

ᡣ𐭩 ferrari-racer!gojo x redbull-racer!sukuna x redbull-manager!reader.

warnings — inaccuracies. (so. many. inaccuracies. i apologize in advance for all of them, especially to the people who watch formula one.) polyamorous relationships. slow burn. angst. eventual smut. use of alcohol/drugs. specific content warnings will be added at the beginning of each chapter. again, the ending will be polyamorous.

(呪術廻戦) : note — layout ib: @nanamiskentos. whoops, spilled some ink, and started a new series. i was planning on making this a full-length piece, but that just would've been far too long. enjoy!

✦ track one. | damage control. ✦ track two. | soon! ✦ track three. | soon!

series taglist (27/50): @jeonwiixard, @paradisestarfishh, @seizecherry, @shinycrybaby, @n1vi, @gojosoups, @poopooindamouf, @susususukanana, @sukubusss, @beereadzzz, @mia-can-yap-too, @indiewritesxoxo, @yenayaps, @swoozleee, @monacipher, @chosos-prettyprincess, @hyori2, @aldebrana, @your-mum3000, @unabletonotlovesatoru, @kazuuhali, @river-vixenn, @daisy-01-blog, @linny-bloggs, @cosmotoic, @pousivuitton, @carnalcrows. ask to be added!

Lil something for a moot on Twitter. Drew it on a small canvas, so pardon poor quality ;v;

nerdjo x reader ⟢ real man

"... did you know that a quasar emits more energy in a second than our sun will in its entire lifetime?"

"uh... sure?"

༄.° pairing . nerd! gojo x popular! reader (f)

⤷ summary . a low grade lands you a tutor session with the nerdiest boy at your university with the help of the best wingman, your professor, who knows that gojo is your only way of improving that 59.6% in your physics class. your annoyance soon turns into admiration and maybe something else as you find yourself enjoying the late night study sessions. but what happens when the physic sessions turn into sex education?

warning ⓘ tags . (18+), porn with plot me thinks, smut, gojo will give you second hand embarrassment bless his soul, protected sex that will lead to unprotected, masturbation, praise kink, oral, p in v, cream pie. sub gojo heh. jealous gojo. perv gojo. obsessive gojo.

⤷ wc . 4k (not proofread)

a/n . this is my first actual attempt to writing good smut. never got the hang of it so hopefully this turns out good. the 59.6% is specific because that is MY current grade and I might just kms if nerdjo doesn't help me out.

a/n . 2 I enjoyed writing the friendship buildup more than the actual smut :p

waking up to an email sent by your physics professor was not the best way to start off the day.

"you've got to be kidding me.." you grumbled, with your morning voice attempting to read the title of the email as your blurry eyes adjusted to the bright screen of your phone. you weren't surprised when the subject was that you are being assigned a tutor. you were aware of your current grade, but you swore you would be able to raise it up. right after partying.

your roommate, and long term friend, peaks over your shoulder as she buttoned up her pants. "yikes, I'm surprised he hasn't admitted you to a tutor earlier, haven't you had the same grade for a while now?"

you sighed knowing she was right. your grade hasn't gone up even a percentage for the past two weeks.

'meet me in class before it begins today, perhaps 10 minutes before, ill be introducing you to your tutor and we'll discuss how things will work.'

and that's how you found yourself standing in front of your teachers desk awkwardly. "he'll be here soon, he's very punctual."

you nodded in acknowledgment. you wanted to play it safe and come a few minutes earlier than the given time written on the email. '10 minutes before class'. the said class begins at 9:40. it is currently 9:28.

he was punctual alright. the moment it struck the half hour, the door swung open to reveal a tall boy- no, a really tall boy. he had white hair and blinding blue eyes behind dorky glasses. despite his nerdy look, the boy had a few facial piercings. one on his eyebrow and his lip.

that's hot.

"satoru! come in, come" your professor gestured the boy to be next to you. satoru offered a small, shy wave, which you responded with a warm smile.

"so as we all know, y/n isn't doing so well in this class." you cringed feeling your face heat up. being exposed in front of someone as smart as satoru was the ultimate humiliation.

"here's what's going to happen. there is an upcoming review test before the final. you pass that and im 99.9 percent sure that you will pass the final with enough studying. I'll leave satoru to decide how the tutoring will work, but I expect you both to meet up at least four times a week."

four times a week? four times? a week. great.

session 1.

you dragged your body into the library with your tote bag full of textbooks and practice worksheets. the library was fairly crowded with students studying for upcoming exams. you being one of them.

making your way deeper into the study area, your eyes landed on gojo who was setting up the table with his headphones plugged in. you approached him but he didn't notice you.

"satoru..?"

no answer. he was in a completely different world with the way he was humming a tune which only brought you to your last resort.

you poked his shoulder lightly which caused him to jump a little, looking over his shoulder to meet eyes with you.

"oh! hi uhm im sorry..! I didn't notice you I was just uh setting up the table. is this place okay with you? we can always pick somewhere else if your uncomfortable with being way too-"

"no no its fine with me." you interrupted his babbling which you found endearing.

"right." he chuckled before sitting down which you followed.

"alright so what exactly are you struggling with?" he asked.

what are you struggling with? "everything" you answered honestly looking at the organized textbooks- all related to physics and.. digimon?

"so.. we can start off with the basics of fundamentals of motion. such as speed and distance and maybe add in some kinematic equations. you are familiar with newtons law, right?"

you nodded as you recalled to the only thing you remembered from this god awful class.

"okay so we can skip that.. but ill still explain a little bit of it towards the end, just to make sure."

that's how you spent your first session with the boy. he's amazing at explaining, learning more from him than any past lectures. the way he is so into it you can't help but space out at the way his lips move.

"for the equations, there are a few of them, ill give you three examples then write one of each so you can practice."

your eyes fixated at the way he neatly wrote down the letters.

"so uhm.. do I multiply or-"

"you subtract this from both sides."

"got it."

this was definitely going to take a while if you couldn't even handle the basics. you handed him back the sheet where you attempted the problems.

"seems like you have a bit of difficulty deriving the equations."

you sighed. how long has it been? forty minutes? and hour?

checking your phone you were surprised to see that only 15 minutes have passed?

'just kill me at this point' you thought.

"hey hey, no phones. can't have you getting distracted, hand it over"

"I was just checking the time! don't take it away pleaseee" you begged.

"you'll be tempted to check the time every five seconds, just hand it over." you reluctantly placed it in his hand. his fingers brushed against yours and you were surprised to see how soft his were.

"lets try again. this time ill watch you solve them so I can see where you start to go wrong."

2 hours have gone by and you finally grasped how to solve the equations involving motion and acceleration.

"good job!" the praise boosted up your confidence. "only took ya thirty practice problems but you got there." he teased as he adjusted his glasses. "thanks satoru." you rolled your eyes at him.

the way you said his name went straight into his head. both of them actually.

"we should wrap it up for today"

he reached into his bag pulling out a few sheets before sliding them to you. "try and finish these by wednesday, which will be our next session. oh-" the pale boy reached for his examples. "use these for reference if you forget again."

accepting the papers, you placed them in your folder before tucking it back into your bag. "thank you, I know i'm not the easiest to teach."

"non sense. you're the first person i've tutored to actually have motivation to learn."

"you've tutored others?" you tilted your head.

"course I have. anyways, study what we've gone over today. here's my phone number-"

"youre going to have to give me back my phone in order for that" you chuckled. it felt like satorus world paused for a second as he saw your smile.

"uh right.. sorry"

it felt great to have your beautiful cellular device in the comfort of your hands.

"I usually ignore my messages.. can I give you my instagram instead?" you asked.

satoru was a bit disappointed to not be able to have your phone number, but your insta was just as good. that way he'd be able to see pictures of you.

you both exchanged users, you with your whopping 2.3k followers and him with his 40. 41 including you.

he noticed that out of the 2.3k people that follow you, you only follow around 90. he felt honored that he would be one of the lucky ones to be blessed with your follow.

"great!" satoru couldn't help the dorky grin that crept up on his face. "text me if you have any issues with the work, mkay?"

multiple sessions have passed.

you felt yourself warm up with the boy, learning more about him and his nerdy interests and the upcoming 'name as many digimon characters as you can' contest that he's pumped for explained the character book you'd see every time you met up at the library.

which you both eventually ditched after accidentally catching a couple doing... activities one shouldn't be doing in a quiet environment.

satoru couldn't help but wish that was you and him.

you both settled for a nearby cafe where he always paid for your drinks and sugary treat which he's memorized by now.

"we should go over the vocabulary today" his fingers skimmed through several papers before pulling one out that had the key to all the words you had to remember.

you were progressing and you felt confident for the review and final which were both in three months.

"here write down the words on a separate sheet and try to answer them to see which you know and which you don't."

outside of your tutor sessions, you began saying hi to each other in the hallways, exchanging small smiles in class, and late night texts.

satoru [ 10: 37 PM]

-you complete the worksheets?

you [ 10: 40 PM]

-hi! I just need to finish up the last one then im all done

satoru [ 10: 41 PM]

-thats good, mind sending me what you've done?

you [ 10 : 45 PM]

[image attached]

-im actually at a party right now..

that led to a scolding from him the next day. he couldn't care less actually no matter how many times he said to restrain yourself from partying for now because of your studies. in reality, he just didn't want any boy to see you wearing whatever revealing outfit you decided to put on.

satoru would be lying that he wouldn't feel the way his inexperienced cock would harden whenever he would see the way your skirt would ride up your thighs as you sat so prettily in front of him.

you were completely unaware of how much you affected the poor boy.

"so how'd the contest go?"

"I won obviously. named all 1400 of em." he put his hands up in victory.

you laughed at how cute you found it. him being proud over beating a bunch of kids?

"what was the price?"

"a limited edition card. super rare by the way, you have like one in a thousand chance of getting it. here! I have it on me actually."

he pulled out a card that resembled Pokemon cards which he would get annoyed when you got the two of them mixed up.

"this is the ghost bt1 diamond. you can pick one out of any Digimon of your opponent or you can delete all the Digimon if they share a name with it."

his eyes lit up whenever he talked about his interests. and you loved that about him.

"sounds cool, how much is it worth?"

"hmm I think like 300 at most."

"yeah well I remember my brother has a Pokemon card that's worth 78 grand."

"do your damn work."

as you prepared to leave, he stopped you.

"here."

he handed you the digimon card making your eyes widen.

"you're giving it to me?"

"mhm, just remembered I already have a similar card that does the exact same as this one. no need for me to have it. besides I think it would look great on your phone case."

now, whenever he takes away your phone for your study time, he can't help but smile when he looked at the card neatly placed inside the clear case with a few stickers around it.

he’d find himself late at night in the comfort of his own dorm, with his hand hesitantly palming his growing bulge at the sight of your story. the picture was of you smiling cutely at the cafe you both went at. a picture he took.

you looked gorgeous. you are gorgeous.

he doesn't remember the last time he's jerked off. maybe once in high school when his favorite cosplayer dressed up as a beloved female character of his?

pulling out his needy length, he imagined it was you. a finger grazed upon his tip smearing the pre-cum a bit as he let out a few whimpers. would you hate him if you saw him like this? all horny and pent up because of your post? or would you help him?

no matter how much he stroked himself, he just couldn't finish. he needed you.

his eyes skimmed through various websites to help his situation out.

‘how to have the best orgasm in your life’

‘best stroking methods’

‘how the female anatomy works and how to pleasure it’

‘man finishes threehu-‘

wait what was that? he scrolls back up a bit clicking on the female anatomy one. he was met with several images. diagrams showing where the most pleasurable part was for a woman.

gojo hasn’t done this much studying since his calculus exam back in elementary. who the hell let’s a seven year old solve that shit?!

by the end of the day, his brain is now stuffed with knowledge on how to pleasure you. still zero clue on how he’s ever going to bust.

2 days.

2 days until you review test and you were.. stressed to say the least. thankfully you have gone over everything from the semester and gojo made sure that you were well prepared even offering to make you a cheat sheet, allowed by the professor, to help you out during the test just in case.

"toru."

fuck. when did you begin calling him that nickname? it made gojo feel lightheaded to the point where he had to grip the end of his chair as you approached him.

"hey I was wondering if we could study at my place tonight?" you asked sweetly.

“your place..? like, where you live?”

“I hope so?” you giggled.

“y-yeah i guess but why?”

you took a seat next to him placing your bag next to your feet on the floor.

“walked past the cafe and saw that it was closed due to some renovations”

“god i hope it’s the bathroom sink. that thing sprayed me”

you both laugh at the memory of him coming out the bathroom with his hair sticking to his forehead and clothes dampened. that was the first time you’ve seen him without his glasses.

you preferred him with them on.

but you couldn’t deny that either way he still looked so handsome especially when he rolled up his now wet sleeves of his black sweater revealing veins that adorned his arms.

“I hope so. anyways I’ll text you the address later.. or actually, we can walk together if you’d like?” you offered and who was he to decline?

“sure sweetheart.”

gojo recently picked up the habit of calling you sweet names which never failed in making your stomach leap in happiness. where’s he get the sudden habit?

‘how to fluster a girl.com’

god knows where.

your house wasn’t far from the campus since you’ve been planning on attending this university ever since you were a kid due to living 20 minutes away at a walking distance.

“my parents are away at a trip so we’ll have the house to ourselves”

fuck yeah.

“they doing a business trip or..?”

“it’s their anniversary. they flew out to france and didn’t even bother inviting me” you rolled your eyes playfully making the pierced boy laugh. he recently switched out his lip piercing after his last one fell off while drinking his coffee.

he took in your house as you arrived. looking at the memories plastered on the walls. this is where you grew up..

“want anything eat?”

you.

he shook his head. “I’m alright, I ate something not long ago.” you hummed while walking upstairs, him trailing behind just to get a glimpse up your skirt seeing the pink laced panties that made him let out a low groan. his pants were uncomfortable by the time you reached your room. it was a warm environment, posters on the walls, stuffed animals on the bed. the bed he would love to fuck you in.

“s’cute” he complimented placing his bag down before he stretched out his lanky body on your bed.

his sweater slipped up a bit revealing his v line as well as his white happy trail. your breath hitched as your eyes trailed down the patch of hair before landing on the raging boner that he had. no way.

was he hard?

despite having past experience yourself, no one has ever made you finish.

gojo propped himself on both his arms. “let’s just review what I taught you at the beginning first to freshen up your memory.” you barely took in anything he said as you approached the bed as well sitting down next to him before you felt bold. you shifted sitting down on his lap instead.

satoru let out a gasp before moaning. his hands found your hips immediately. “fuck.. what are you-“ he was cut off by your subtle grinding.

“we shouldn’t..” your heart sank a bit. “you don’t want this..? I’m just trying to help you toru.”

“I know baby but I haven’t.. well I’m.. I’ve never done t-this before, god..” he mumbled embarrassed. oh so that’s what this is. he’s a virgin. “I don’t mind.. let me help you”

“please-“

“shh..” you tugged at his jeans bringing down to his knees. “You’ve never done this before?” you asked letting your acrylics tease him through his digimon boxers.

“no.. no please fuck..”

his cute whimpers went straight to your heat as you finally tugged down his boxers only to be met with the biggest cock you’ve seen. it slapped his stomach the second it was released. he was thick. the pretty pink tip was slowly turning an angry red color as he panted.

you wrapped your hand around him stroking up and down his base watching him twitch. while keeping eye contact, you let some spit fall down his cock making him moan as you used your drool as lube. his hips bucked up as he felt the warmth of your mouth around him.

“t-that’s it..”

for the first time, your lips met in a sweet and needy kiss, your hand still working wonders on him. he placed a shaking hand on your ass cupping it making sure not to break the heated kiss.

“can.. can you ride me?” the way he asked shyly made you want to ruin him even more. you nodded watching him pull off his sweater. now by all means you had zero clue that this man was built as if god made him with his own hands. you did the same, quickly undressing before he stopped you.

“please.. please keep the panties on”

“you like em?”

“fucking love them.”

after carefully placing a condom you found in your drawer on him, you guided his tip to grind just right against you. “lift up your hips a bit toru.. just move them.. back.. and forth.. good job love”

the praise didn’t help Gojos situation at all. “keep praising me..” at this point his glasses were all fogged up. your finger hooked into your panties slipping them to the side so you could slip his cock in.

“so big..” you cood

“oh god, you’re right.. fuckkk baby wait.. wait wait” he moaned filling up the room with lewd noises. the plap, plap, plap echoed. large hands found your waist helping you ride him at a quick pace.

“shit.. you’re better than I imagined.” he groaned out biting your neck sweetly. “you’ve imagined.. this? ngh!” you were surprised to see him pick up the pace. “all the time.”

gojo thought back to the website he visited frequently. his finger found your clit circling it before rubbing it repeatedly. you head fell on his shoulder as you began to shake from overstimulation. “Toru..!”

“this is where you’re weak, right? most girls have an orgasm immediately after teasing the clit”

“ngh.. nerd..!”

“so sensitive”

the raspiness in his voice was enough to make you finish. for the first time ever. gojos hips stuttered as he pulled out watching your juices spill out. he brought his fingers to his mouth tasting you. “you taste good babe”

panting, you removed the condom from his still hard length before slipping him back in.

he wasn’t even half way in before ropes of cum went inside you making gojo close his eyes letting tears of being overstimulated fall down his pretty flushed cheeks.

“be my girl..”

four things happened that day.

you came for the first time

you took away gojos virginity

you were both now dating

you didn’t study at all

but the cheat sheet did help you out a bit. after finishing up the last question, gojo walked over to the teachers desk placing it on top of it. he was the first one out of everyone to finish, like always. he looked up to where you were seated.

there you were, more focused than ever biting your nail as you answered the equations as if it was muscle memory. he was proud, smiling to himself before leaving the classroom.

toru ! [ 7: 45 AM ]

-results are in today 👀

you [ 7:46 AM]

-im nervous… i think i failed it bro im so scared toru

toru ! [ 7: 48 AM]

-I doubt that sweetheart

and he was right because the second you received back your paper with a beautiful 92% written on top of it you felt like you were in heaven. you ran towards gojo wrapping your arms around him excitedly.

“I did it! look!” you showed him your paper.

“told you. good job am proud of ya” he grinned as he once again felt his cock throb at the way you were squeezing him. “what’d you get?”

“100%”

“show off.”

he barked out a laugh before placing his hands on your hips. “we should celebrate.” he suggested. “with cake?” he hummed tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before letting his thumb rub on your cheek affectionately. “sure pretty.”

I love that everyone just agrees Caleb is a panty sniffer

Art by @Evil_fishie on twitter

Not Just Anybody | baby daddy!sukuna x f!reader

summary: everything's going good, amazing actually. your baby girls happy, healthy, and turning one. your co-parenting relationship with sukuna has never been better, you smile a little more and fight less. yet despite all of the progress you've made, you continue to be unaware of anger and resentment that continues to build up inside of him.

genre: hidden child trope, toxic relationships, ex-fwb to co-parents to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, emotional cheating

part three | part four | part five

notes: again, tag list is closed! this part is also 9.3k words, so u may want to split it up or save it for later ❤️

Sukuna’s house is different from yours– it’s sharper, darker, colder. It’s devoid of warmth, a stark contrast from yours, yet there’s a certain calm in the air when you wake up there in the morning. It could just be the fact that there's no random toys laying around, something you don’t get to wake up to much often. 

Or maybe the fact that you actually got to sleep in for once in your life since Sukuna was the one who kept an eye on the baby monitor– waiting for any sign that Sayomi was starting to wake up. The goal was to catch her before she started crying so you could sleep in. 

Maybe this was your gift for keeping a little human alive and happy for an entire year— a full night of uninterrupted sleep and waking up at 10:00 am. 

You weren’t sure why he was so adamant on having you two sleep over the night before her birthday, but after a whole week of him practically begging you without giving a real reason why, you finally said yes. 

It made sense when he surprised you with Yomi’s very own room. He wasn’t sure what to get her for her birthday and decided it would’ve been perfect since she didn’t have one at his house in the first place. The room itself was the complete opposite from the rest of the house, filled with different shades of pink and soft textures– very cottage fairy vibes.

You avoided saying that though, only because he would’ve made fun of you for wording it that way. But it was beautiful, it became the one spot in Sukuna’s dark home that the sun had shone on.

He also revamped the room that was next to hers for you, just in case you didn’t feel completely comfortable with letting her spend the night there alone. He didn’t have to go that far, you would’ve stayed in any room or even the couch, but you appreciated the extra effort. Your room definitely wasn’t as fancy as Ms. Sayomi’s, but you could tell he had you in mind when decorating it. Soft white linen sheets, some art pieces hung up on the wall and a couple of plants laying around. It had a similar vibe to your home.

The party isn’t until Saturday, but you still wanted the day of her actual birthday to be special. You took the day off from work and Sukuna took the day off from practice. Some close family will be coming over a little later for an early dinner. It’ll be your parents, along with Jin, Yuji, his other brother Choso and Choso’s long time girlfriend, Yuki. 

You haven’t met Yuki yet, but you’re fine with having her around your daughter. She’s been with Choso since their freshman year of highschool. Just from what you’ve heard so far, you get the feeling that she won’t be someone temporary in Yomi’s life— something you won’t outwardly say to Sukuna, at least not in that same exact wording. The last thing you need is him getting offended that you still don’t want him to introduce her to Yorozu. 

They’ve been official for a little over three months now, you told yourself that you’ll allow it once they reach the one year mark. And no, you don’t think you’re being harsh on the timeframe, you hold yourself to the same standard as well. You want Sayomi to meet a future step-parent, not a girlfriend or boyfriend. 

You take one last look at your phone before heading downstairs. The closer you get to the staircase, the more your daughter’s laughter fills the air. She’s grown to be quite the daddy’s girl, Sukuna really doesn’t have to do much and she’s already smiling at him. 

“Mm!! Hi mama!” She excitedly greets you when you come into view, it’s the one sentence she can say just about perfectly.

Sukuna’s feeding her breakfast and you're pretty sure he was just eating her food as a “joke”, hence the laughter. 

“Good morning, birthday girl!” You lean down and give her several kisses on the cheek. “Are you eating breakfast with your dad?” 

She tilts her head when she looks at you and babbles some random sequence of words that are only known to her, then finishes it off strong by saying “dada”. 

“Sounds fun babe!” You enthusiastically say, it’s always better to just act like you know. Sukuna ends up laughing, having no idea what the hell she just said either but he likes the passion behind it. 

“Did you sleep good?” He asks in place of a normal greeting, continuing to feed Yomi the rest of her oatmeal. 

“I actually did.” You say, brushing some of the baby’s hair off of her forehead. You’re a little afraid to look anywhere else, Sukuna’s in nothing but a pair of short rugby shorts. You try to not think that everything’s about you, but you’re seriously having a hard time believing he didn’t do this on purpose. 

Whether it was on purpose or not, the one thing you know for sure is that this man is not above accusing others of lusting over him and trying to objectify him– all it takes is a glance while Sukuna’s in a silly goofy mood.

“What about you two? Did she wake up super early today?” 

“She woke up so fucking early,” he sighs and complains. “She got up at 5:00 am, so I gave her a bottle–”

“Did you measure it correctly?”

“Who knows, she’ll survive.” He waves off your concerns and continues. “Anyways, I gave her a bottle and took her back to my room. We both fell back asleep, then she woke me up at 8:00 am by picking my fuckin’ nose.” 

“That’s so gross Yomi, he has germs up there.” You squish her cheeks and tease her. 

“She would not be here right now if you thought I had germs.” He murmurs, feeding her the last spoonful of her food. 

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” 

The day goes by slowly. You end up having to go back to your house real quick to grab a couple things, like makeup since you forgot it for some reason. Other than you brief trip home, the three of you lounged around up until family members started showing up. 

The first to arrive was Sukuna’s side. As always, Yuji’s excited to see his baby cousin. No introductions were needed for Jin and Choso since you’ve already met them, so you introduce yourself to Yuki and spend some time getting to know her.

She was also nice enough to bring a smash cake for Sayomi, something that you and Sukuna slightly felt guilty about since you both completely forgot a cake and candles. 

You don’t even know how it slipped your mind– probably happened because her actual party is on a different day and this is literally your first time celebrating your child’s birthday. 

You quickly let it go after Sukuna told you a lot of kids in this world don’t get to have cake on their birthdays. In that moment you truly understood why he is the way he is.

Your parents arrive around an hour later. They don’t bother providing an explanation, even with Sukuna glaring at them as he patiently waited for one. Ever since they retired, they’ve started to run off of their own time, a.k.a it’s not 6:00 pm unless they say it is.

It’s kind of funny when you think about it, but you still feel bad for the people that have actual appointments with them. The only reason why your mom shows up to her workout classes on time is because they threatened to kick her out for constantly showing up late. 

Well deserved in your opinion, but you kept it to yourself. 

Even with how.. particular your parents can be, everyone gets along surprisingly well. As expected, they really liked Jin, but it was Choso that ended up capturing their hearts. They even made a comment about how they’d adopt him if they could.

Unfortunately Sukuna, who was already drinking, overheard that.

It’s one of those days where you’re not sure if he’s being serious or not. You were leaning towards him being serious since they gushed over all the guests, except him. He also started listing off reasons why he’s better than all of them, and since it’s Sukuna, he never ran out of reasons. 

It’s impressive how obsessed he is with himself.

“Do you guys want a refill?” Choso gestured at your parent’s empty glasses, interrupting Sukuna and giving him another reason in his head. 

“On top of that, I don’t interrupt others, especially when it comes to proving to others that I respect my elders.” Sukuna continues to ramble, he was also way more fucked up than he was when he first started. “Which is ageist, or however the fuck you pronounce it. Listen– mom, dad– I don’t care about how old someone is, there is no age limit to getting your ass beat.”

“Did you just call me an elder, Sukuna?” Your dad asks, deciding that getting called old was far more concerning than Sukuna basically saying his hands were rated E for everyone. 

“Me? Never!” He tries not to laugh as he begins to twist the narrative. “Choso said that shit, not me.”

“I never said that!” Choso defends himself. But it’s too late, Sukuna was going to win this argument by any means necessary. 

“You didn’t have to say it, you showed them that you thought they were old by offering to refill their drinks.” He turns away from your parents and smirks at his brother who was just trying to be nice. “They’re strong, independent people. Their arms aren’t go to break off by pouring themselves a well deserved drink for being the best grandparents in the world.” 

“Wow.” You turn to look at your parents who are floored by how he just doesn’t shut up when he’s drunk. “He holds you guys in such high regard yet you couldn’t even buy him his first pair of earrings.”

“Don’t you start with us now too.” Your dad says, you couldn’t tell if it was a warning or plea. 

“God forbid women have hobbies.” 

“Giving your father a headache is not a hobby.” He scolds you, he doesn’t get too far since you start laughing. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop, I’m done.” 

“Good ‘cause I was just getting started.” You already know who said this.

After chugging two massive glasses of water and listening to his daughter have a meltdown that he’s convinced was for fucking fun, Sukuna sobers up. You all decide it’s the perfect time to do a test run for the smash cake. She’s going to eat some of course, but everyone’s more interested in seeing how Sayomi would react to a group of people singing happy birthday to her. It might not be the most accurate result since there will be almost a hundred people at your house on Saturday, but it doesn’t hurt to try. 

So you guys give it a try. She’s slumped back in her high chair, staring at the cake like it’s more of an inconvenience than it is a delectable treat. Sukuna tries to tickle her neck and she just frowns and slaps his hand away.

But no tears. This is good. 

Her expression changes when you light the candle on top, making her a little more interested than before.

“Mama no?” She asks and you nod. 

“That’s right babe, no.” 

She points at the lit candle, “no?”

“No.” You say again, she seems to get it. Even if she didn’t and eventually tried to grab at it, you were close enough to stop her. “No touching, that’ll give you an ouchie.”

After fully explaining why fire was bad and doubting she understood or even listened, you moved on to the moment everyone’s been waiting for— the singing.

It’s kind of ridiculous how far you all would go to see what her emotional limit is, but you’re left with no other choice. On any other day, it’d be fine— cry your fucking heart out. But it’s her first birthday party, you’d rather not bring her to the point where she gets in one of her moods and then sleeps for the entirety of the day. If it’s something avoidable like not singing happy birthday or keeping balloons away from you, you’ll do it. 

It goes well at first, she doesn’t seem to care, but something bothers you. 

“Sukuna.”

“What?”

“Can you sing along with everyone?”

“No.” He responds stubbornly, crossing his arms as if it’d prove a point. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t like singing.”

“You’re singing happy birthday,” you scoff at him. “You don’t have to hit Mariah Carey notes to properly sing it.” 

“I don’t care. I gave her a room that’s bigger than some peoples homes, the fuck does she need me to sing to her for?” 

…

Not only did Sukuna sing beautifully, but Sayomi also didn’t cry for all the 12 times you’ve rehearsed the song. She even smiled at one point, so you have high hopes for Saturday. Everyone was quick to go home after that, which is understandable. You all had lost track of time, it was already pushing 9:00 pm when you brought the cake out.

You were the last to leave since you had to pack up all the stuff you had brought for the overnight stay, but there was no rush. Yomi was already fast asleep in Sukuna’s arms, so you were able to take your time making sure you didn’t forget anything important.

“You sure you two can’t spend the night again?” He asks as you walk toward the driveway. 

“I can’t, my parents are staying with me for two nights.” You remind him once again, too tired to even get frustrated at having to repeat yourself. 

He most likely does remember and just thinks he can talk you into it.

“So?” He chuckles, genuinely not understanding why that’s an issue.

“They’re staying with me because they want to spend that time with her.” You hold back a smile from how you actually have to break it down for him. “They want to see her at night before she sleeps and they want to eat their breakfast with her in the mornings. I doubt they’d stay if the house was empty.”

“That’s dumb but alright.” He mutters, placing a kiss on Yomi’s head right after. “Gonna feel empty here.”

“Are you still tipsy?” You ask, looking at him with slight disbelief.

“Maybe.” He says in response, yet the long pause beforehand tells you yes. “I’ve said worse than saying my house feels empty while drunk.”

“I believe that.” You end up smiling when thinking about how he tried to turn your parents and Choso into enemies. “I’m surprised you’re saying that in the first place. I doubt it’ll feel empty here if you invited your girlfriend over.” 

The suggestion brings genuine laughter to the man, eventually having to cover his mouth for a moment because Yomi began fussing around in his arms. 

“Say her name.” 

“Why would you want me to do that?” You immediately shoot him an annoyed look.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say her name before.” The smile on his face is way too warm for someone that’s just realized something like that. “It’s always ‘your girlfriend’ or just her pronouns.” 

“I think you’re thinking too much into it.” You laugh with him. “I wouldn’t even know how to confirm or deny that, it’s never crossed my mind.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, not caring that much if it were true or not. “But yeah, I could invite her over.”

“You should.”

“Definitely should.” He easily agrees. “Probably won’t though.”

“Don’t complain about being lonely then.” You softly scold him. The way you said it makes him realize hasn’t felt this much warmth from you in years. 

Having her here wouldn’t fix that. 

He probably shouldn’t say that. 

It’s not the same as having you two here.

He probably shouldn’t say that either. 

It would never make a difference in the way you see him. 

“I know.” He ends up saying, then forces out a low laugh. “I probably just need sleep.”

“I think so too.” You end up taking Yomi into your arms and begin walking to your car, he follows right behind out of habit. “You’re not used to someone waking you up so much in the morning.”

“M’not– I’ll get used to it though.” He says, watching you put her into the car seat. 

His chest tightens a little more than usual this time around as he watches you gentle secure the rest of the straps.

“It’s fine if you don’t, I never did.” You let out a little sigh after stepping away from the backseat. “It’s just easy to get over it because she’s cute.” 

“She's the cutest,” he chuckles and shuts the backseat door. “I might be a little busy tomorrow, so if I don’t get the chance to visit then I’ll just see you Saturday morning.”

“Sounds good. Have a goodnight.” You offer him a little smile before getting in the car.

“You too.” He can’t find it in himself to smile back right now, but allows his eyes to linger on you a little longer. It’s the one thing you don’t get on him for and hopes you continue to just let him have it. 

As pathetic as it sounds, it’s all he has left.

—

“Nice of you to come out the night before your daughter's party.” It’s one of the first things Suguru says after you finally sit down and look at the menus. 

It was a new restaurant in the area that has quickly gained popularity from their food and laid back ambiance. It was still fancier than most, but one you could definitely relax and enjoy your dinner in. 

“You have no idea how much I needed this.” You admit, sounding more than relieved to be here with him. “It’s been such a long week trying to get ahead with work just so I could take some extra days off for Yomi.” 

“I bet.” He chuckles. “How’s work been for you?” 

“It’s doing good! I have 2 potential clients that reached out this month. I'm considering hiring an intern for extra help and to see what having an employee would be like.” 

“Why an intern? Just so you can say goodbye without feeling bad if you end up not liking it?” 

“That’s exactly why.” You laugh with him. “It’d be good for them too, they’d be getting the experience and a nice letter of recommendation for wherever they’d want to go next.” 

“That would be good for them.” He agrees and takes a sip of his drink. He’s a whiskey on the rocks kind of guy and you don’t know how he does it. “I remember getting so stressed out trying to land a good internship while I was in college, I never want to go through that again.” 

“Did you end up getting a decent one?” 

“More than decent, it was one of the top ten financial firms in the country.” He reveals, acting a little shy about it. “But my manager was such a fucking dick.” 

“That sucks, I'm sorry. I feel like it’s more common than not. I had 2 during college and 1 right after and they were all really rude. I just stuck through it to fluff up my resume.” 

“Yeah, same here—“

“Here you go, Sir.” A waitress ends up interrupting the conversation to drop off your plates. “And here’s yours Ma’am. Was there anything I could get you two before I step away?” 

“Yeah, a refill on this please.” He says, sliding his empty glass over to her. “Want more wine?” 

“Yeah sure.” You smile and slide the empty glass over to her. “Same as the last one please.” 

“Of course, I’ll be back with those shortly.” 

The rest of the dinner is kind of just that— small talk with some personal stories sprinkled into the mix.

You try not to talk about your daughter too much during dates. You make it known that she's your everything, but you’ve found that it’s nice to take a break from talking about things like milestones and teething.

Or the crippling anxiety you get whenever you think about how dangerous the world can be, and that you can try your best to protect her from it, but you’ll reach a time where you can’t and that terrifies you. 

But that’s a conversation that you save for your family and therapist. 

Suguru isn’t the first guy you’ve gone on dates with, but the one thing that’s made him stand out from the others is how he doesn’t seem to care that you’re a mom. 

He knows you’re busy a lot of the time and isn’t pushy when it comes to seeing you. He’s never made any backhanded comments about your life being ruined, like a couple of men have said in the past. You also like that he asks questions about her and seems genuinely curious, instead of asking just to be nice. 

Are you trying to find Sayomi a stepdad? Not really. You’re just having fun. Going out on dates and having girls nights for a couple hours, 3-4 times a month has helped you feel like yourself again in a short amount of time. 

It’s not like you bring people home to meet your daughter, so there was no harm in having some nights out. 

As you both begin to walk through the dining room, Suguru takes your hand in his and it’s oddly nice. You’ve slept with him a couple times before, but your internal reaction to something as innocent as having your hand held made you realize how touch starved you truly were. 

But the night is young, you’ll have time later to sulk about how lonely you feel sometimes. 

The cold air immediately hits you when you two step outside. Springs deceiving as always— you find yourself sweating at some parts of the day, then barely able to talk from how violent you shiver at night. 

Except the usual feeling of wanting to run into a car with a heater on full blast fades away when you get a glimpse of pink hair and mass walking up to you from the corner of your eye. 

This man couldn’t sneak up on anybody no matter how hard he tried. 

The moment you turn to face him, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. When he first saw you walking out of the restaurant, he wasn’t quite sure if it was you or not. 

He hasn’t seen you dressed up in almost 2 years. The times that he actually has shouldn’t even count since he’d rip the clothes right off of you, leaving you bare for him to enjoy. 

Then you got a little closer. Instead of your words, he was able to hear only the sound of your voice. You obviously don’t use it on him because you don’t like him anymore— for whatever fucking reason— but you used to use that same exact tone with him. 

He doesn’t even completely realize what he’s doing until Yorozu’s following behind him, asking where he’s going— and he suddenly realizes he’s walking straight over to you. 

There’s no plan in mind, there’s barely any thoughts except for what are you doing here and who did you leave his little girl with. 

“Oh, Sukuna!” is all you can fucking come up with right now. You two obviously aren’t together but you can’t help but feel like you got caught doing something bad, especially with the way he was looking at you. “Surprised to see you here, have you been here bef—“

“Where the fuck is Sayomi?” He cuts you off with a question that sounded more like an accusation. He didn’t even bother to introduce the woman he’s with or introduce himself to the man you’re with. 

He doesn't give a fuck about either right now, all he can see right now is you as he began to seethe.

“At home?” You let out a light laugh, mainly from how uncomfortable you’ve become in record fucking time. He makes it seem like she’s all alone at home or waiting in the car for you while you finish your date. “She’s spending time with her grandparents right now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He continues to question you, looking back at Suguru once before going back to glare at you. He takes a small step forward and Yorozu lightly wraps her hand around his arm, you’re not sure if it’s an attempt to calm him down or hold him back. “I thought you were with her this whole time.”

“I didn’t know I had to.” You begin to defend yourself, but he just starts laughing, it makes it hard to continue speaking but you do anyway. People are starting to look and you don’t need him to cause a scene. “Are you mad? She’s safe at home right now.”

“Of course I’m fucking mad!” He begins to raise his voice, taking another step closer. “You didn’t fucking tell me other people were watching her tonight!”

“What do you mean other people?! They’re my parents!”

“That’s not fucking point! I thought you were with her this entire time!” There’s a strain in his voice as he begins to fully unload on you, it causes Suguru to step forward and hold his arm out in front of you. He doesn’t know what Sukuna’s like, you haven’t given him too many details, but with the way Sukuna’s looking at you right now, he’s fully prepared to block him from getting to you.

Seeing that pisses off Sukuna even more. 

“I don’t see the fucking issue, Sukuna!” You throw your arms out in defeat, “I don’t even see why I should be telling you where I’m going.”

“Babe, it's okay.” Yorozu steps in and tries to get him to relax, he drank a little bit before coming here, he could do anything right now. “I’m sure Sayomi’s safe.”

“No, no— YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” He suddenly snaps at her, before pointing his finger at you. “Let’s get one thing straight, I don’t give a FUCK about what you do or where you go. What I care about is where MY DAUGHTER is and who she’s with. This whole fucking time I thought she was with her mother! I don’t care how simple it seems to you, I need to know that kind of shit!”

The whole street’s looking at this point and you swear you’ve never felt smaller. Sukuna continues to release years worth of anger on you, all while his girlfriend continues to try to soothe him while throwing little glares at you, and you just continue to shrink beside Suguru, who did not sign up for this shit tonight. 

“Jesus fucking christ– OKAY! I’m sorry, I’ll fucking tell you next time!” You yell back. “I didn’t think it was going to be a big deal.” 

“That’s his daughter, of course it’s a big deal.” Yorozu says, backing him up. Your eyes almost widen in surprise— you weren’t expecting her to say anything at all, now she’s trying to make you look worse than he already is. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Are you fucking serious right now?” You grimace and take a step forward, but you end up getting stopped by Suguru who still has his arm out in defense. 

He wasn’t planning on saying anything, letting the parents sort this through and all, but even he reached his breaking point after seeing that the girlfriend was ready to go at it with you. Sukuna didn’t look like he was going to do anything about it anytime soon either. 

“Listen man.” Suguru turns to him, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “We get where you’re coming from, we understand. I can promise you she didn’t have any bad intentions behind this.”

Sukuna laughs then stares him dead in the eye, clearly not really to settle down just yet. “Who the fuck is we? ‘Cause last time I checked, it was her that hid a child from me for almost an entire fucking year and I doubt anything like that’s ever fucking happened to you. So tell me, do you actually fucking understand? NO.” He then turns back to you, “And now you’re keeping shit from me again, is this just who you fucking are?!” 

“No it’s not! I already said it wouldn’t happen again!” You cut him off in frustration and your eyes slowly become glossier and glossier. “I apologized, Sukuna! I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“It sounds like you’re just trying to get him to shut up!” Yorozu says. “You were defensive from the start and don’t sound remorseful at all.” 

“How do you expect me to act when it was him that immediately started attacking me?! He could’ve talked to me about this in private but he chose to yell at me in public.” 

“He wasn’t attacking you, he was worried about where his daughter was since you never told him you were leaving her with other people.” She refutes. 

“Okay ms. Sukuna whisperer,” you mutter and laugh. She literally just repeated everything he said. “I’m sure he’s real worried from how he’s letting his fucking girlfriend fight in his place.” 

“I’m my own fuckin’ person, sweetheart.” He chuckles, “no one’s fighting in my place.” 

“Coming to your defense then.” You roll your eyes as you correct yourself. “Something a grown fucking man does not need, yet here we are.” 

“That’s what couples do.” He says bitterly. 

“Oh, I’m sure. Tell me, do couples also blow up every others fucking phones when they don’t get a text within 5 minutes?”

“Or how about that one time you wanted to spend the day with Yomi after she got her ears pierced and you couldn’t because someone else was demanding your attention?”

“You couldn’t even use your phone because of how many calls you were getting back to back!”

Crickets.

“Nothing? Okay! I’ll let you two go then, so you can enjoy being a normal couple.” The look you give Suguru immediately tells him that you’re ready to go and begins to step back, waiting for you to take the lead. 

“Back to your boyfriend's house then, huh?” Sukuna continues to throw jabs, showing you once again that he just likes to fight.

You tried so hard to get away from him, so hard to avoid being on the receiving end of his anger, yet here you are. He doesn’t even let you walk away.

You were fucked since the moment he laid his eyes on you. 

You take one big deep breath, trying to get it together because Suguru had already seen enough. Sukuna and Yorozu have also had the pleasure of watching you lose your temper. The small attempt to calm yourself does nothing to soothe the burn in your eyes, you eventually blink away the tears that have slowly built up within the last 10 minutes and they steadily flow down your cheeks.

Fuck. 

If only they knew this was all from frustration and not fear or remorse. You don’t regret a thing you said. 

“No.” You finally respond to his question. “My mood’s ruined and I don’t feel like staying out and making it everyone else's problem, I’m not like you.”

“So now it’s my fault?” He asks, getting defensive all over again. 

“No.” Your voice slightly raises and you sniffle right after. “It’s mine– I don’t communicate enough, I hide things from you, I have the fucking audacity to defend myself when it comes to you. How dare I try to do that after all I’ve done to you?”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“No, I don’t know, but I felt it.” Your voice slightly trembles. “You take any chance you can get to remind me how much of a piece of shit I am. Sometimes I wonder what life would’ve been like had I never left you and I don’t think it’d be any different from this.”

You finally begin to walk away from the two, with Suguru following along. Sukuna tried to say some other things to you, but it was all muffled out. Maybe it was from some of the wine you drank, or maybe it was just the pent up frustration you’ve been having since he came back into your life. Whatever it was, you didn’t hear a word he said, nor did you care anymore at this point. 

Suguru was the one that picked you up, but you decided to take an uber back home. The last thing you wanted to do was unpack everything that just happened on the car ride back. You were also just plain embarrassed, Suguru never knew about the full story of you hiding Yomi away from her father. 

The birthday party was less than 24 hours away, you needed the time alone to relax and prepare yourself to deal with all the people that were attending it.

—

As expected, the morning was hectic. The planner and her assistants got to your house at 9:00 A.M sharp and got to work decorating the main areas of the house and backyard. You didn’t even know what to expect, you told her to do whatever she pleased, so you’re in for just as much of a surprise as everyone else. 

Your only job for today was getting Sayomi fed and dressed in her frilly little birthday dress. She seemed to love it with the way she kept grabbing at it and smiling, but she hated the matching headband. You didn’t even bother putting it back on after she ripped it off, you ended up tying half of her hair up and adding a little accessory. 

When you finally walk back down the stairs, everything’s pretty much done— the balloon decorations, flower arrangements, snack tables, different food stations. You momentarily interrupt your moms conversation with her to quickly thank her for everything, god knows you could never transform a space the way she could. 

You didn’t even have the time for that.

The guests started rolling in at noon, with each person that arrived, the more you dreaded her Sukuna’s arrival. The good thing about him is that he doesn’t seem to tell his family much about the tumultuous relationship you’ve have the past three months, so you’re sure it’ll be easier to act normal around him with his brothers and Yuki around. 

The entire family shows up around 30 minutes after the party officially started and of course, your child’s father manages to steal all the attention.

He’s tall and built to begin with, imagine all the looks he got when he stepped into your home with a white button up, rolled up at the sleeves and the top buttons undone to show off his chains. On top of that, his grey slacks were perfectly tailored and his hair was neatly styled. You’d think it would all clash, but it somehow worked with his ear piercings and eyebrow slits. 

You don’t look for too long though, he was already getting enough attention from everyone else. You hardly acknowledge him at all, actually. 

The first one to greet you was Yuji. The sweet boy was already bouncing off the walls, ready to go outside and play with the other kids. But he also had manners, making sure to give you and Yomi a hug and kiss on the cheek. Next were Jin, Choso, and Yuki, which you greeted and gave a hug to in that exact same order. 

By the time you reached Yuki, Sukuna was looking at you expectantly, but you ended up turning back around and leading the three to where all the food was.

Peace doesn’t exist though when you have a child, your sweet baby girl proved that to you within those 10 minutes.

“Dada,” Yomi says to you and points at him, as you’re walking into the kitchen. 

“You wanna go to Dada?” You ask, moving some hair out of her face, not bothering to look up at him. 

“Mm.” She lightly nods, looking at Sukuna excitedly. 

“Okay.” You smile before side eyeing the man. “Here.” 

Without protest, he takes her. He’s honestly been waiting for you to hand her over, not completely sure if you’d say yes if he asked. He wasn’t even sure if you were going to allow him to come after last night, but figured it was alright since you never texted him telling him to fuck off. 

Sukuna spent the rest of the day being pulled away by a bunch of relatives and family friends– out of sight and mainly out of your mind. A lot of those who approached him tried to use the birthday girl as an excuse to go up to him, but you knew they just wanted to finally meet the mystery man that fathered her. A part of you wondered how some of those conversations went. The topic about who Sayomi’s father was is a topic that everyone avoided, even just asking about it was a big no-no. So you can imagine it to be a lot of mental gymnastics trying to talk about it, you never even gave people an explanation as to how or why he’s in her life now. 

It’s not until you have to sing Happy Birthday when you have to interact with him. You almost want to laugh when he turns the corner and you see how blissfully unaware your daughter is of what she’s about to have to deal with. 

You were able to set aside your differences for a minute when he also acknowledged how much she was going to hate this. She may not have reacted much on her actual birthday, but now she’s essentially in a room filled with strangers.

“Should one of us hold her while they sing it?” He asks, lightly bouncing her in his arm as if getting her in the best mood would make her fall from grace less steep. 

You shake your head, “that’s never stopped her from having a meltdown.” 

“Right.” 

He cautiously set her down into the high chair, where there’s a purple princess cake in front of her that’s waiting to be lit. She’s fine at first, her attention’s on the cake, not the crowd in front of her. 

It’s after only a few seconds of singing where she slowly drops her happy demeanor, her face turns into one you’d make if you were all alone in a room and something randomly moves.

Complete terror of the unknown. 

The worst is when she looks at you or her dad, she thinks crying is going to get her out of this situation so her bottom lip starts to quiver the longer you two go without getting her the hell out of there. 

Too bad Sukuna was determined to keep her in that goddamn chair, so he takes a little frosting off the top of the cake and quickly swipes it over her lips. 

Usually she’d be offended by something like that happening, but her mood quickly turns around when stops pouting and actually tries it. She eventually starts kicking her feet around and pointing at the dessert, asking for more. 

Singing happy birthday was a success, it ended with Yomi clapping her hands along with everyone else while chewing on her newest favorite food.

You gave her all the time in the world to eat however much of it she wanted, you were taking pictures after and needed her to look as happy as possible. 

And it all went fine, at least up until the very end. You were so worried about Sayomi this entire time that you never considered what were some of the things that could’ve gotten on your nerves today, aside from looking at Sukuna’s face.

“Okay, now let’s get a picture with both mom and dad!” Your dad’s sister, who’s never once in her life been able to read a room, exclaims. 

You try to look at anywhere else but Sukuna’s direction after hearing that, it was so painfully obvious to him, only because he’s the only one that knew about what went down last night.

After everything, he still wanted to take a photo together as a family, even though he’s starting to accept that the three of you will probably never truly be one, especially after what happened last night.

But still, he puts his pride aside.

“C’mere.” He murmurs, holding his arm out for you. 

You obviously go up to him, not wanting to give away any signs that there were issues between you two, allowing him to pull you into his side and throw his free arm around you. 

“Hi mama!” Your daughter flashes you a dopey grin– doesn’t matter if she hasn’t seen you in 2 minutes or 2 hours, she’s been greeting you each time she sees you and it makes your heart melt.

She makes the picture taking a little better, she’s more giddy than usual because of the sugar content that was in her cake— she’s probably in outerspace right now. Hopefully her energy crash isn’t that bad at bedtime, but it’s her birthday. She’ll do it if she wants to. 

Her pathetic father had some hopes that you’d rest your hand on his chest or something for the photo— just seems kind of natural to do so, but you take your daughter's hand instead. 

At least it made a cute photo. Sayomi will look back and never know just how cold and distant you felt in his arms at that moment.

—

The last people to leave your house are your parents. They love staying over and seeing Sayomi, but miss the peace and quiet of their own home, so they decided tonight's the night they finally go back home. 

Is a two day stay a lot? 

For them it is.

It’s not something to take personally, if you absolutely needed them, they’d be here for you in a heartbeat. 

It’s not until you walk into the cluttered kitchen and realized you’re not alone. You find Sukuna standing over the kitchen island, quietly trying to open a bottle of wine.

“Didn’t know you were still here.” You mutter, taking his attention off the stubborn cork. 

“Probably because you spent the whole day ignoring me.” He says while finally opening the damn thing. The room’s quiet as he pours you a glass and slides it over to you. “Can’t blame you though.” 

“You sure? You don’t seem to mind blaming me for everything else.” You say, taking a seat in front of him and pulling the wine glass closer to you. You’re not even taking jabs at him anymore, you genuinely meant it, which makes him feel worse.

He doesn’t respond to that out of guilt and leans forward on the counter. He doesn’t even know where to start right now, he was an asshole to everyone last night. But if he were to be completely honest, he doesn’t care much about how he made Suguru and Yorozu feel last night. He was out for blood the moment he saw you stepping out of the restaurant, he would’ve snapped on anyone. 

And since he’s being honest with himself right now, he wanted to hurt you. Right now he’s just trying to figure out if last night's anger was how he truly felt or if that was just his final straw to an already bad day. 

He didn’t even want to go out last, his girlfriend just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. He was tired and wanted to rest up since he had planned on being here the entire day. Lately, Yorozu’s been taking his “no’s” as suggestions and it’s so much easier just giving in sometimes. 

He glances at you and you’re already looking at him, raising your brows at him. He knows it’s your nonverbal way of saying “fucking get on with it”. 

“After missing all that time with Yomi…” He begins to explain himself, carefully choosing his words because he wants you to understand. Right now he’d rather you understand why he reacted that way he did, instead of forgiving him. “Not knowing what’s going on with her triggers the fuck out of me. I don’t know.. I– when I was getting ready to go out and on my way to the restaurant, I had this idea that you two were at home together and realizing I was wrong made me lose it. I trust your parents, but if you told me you were going out, I would’ve cancelled my plans and hung out with her.”

“Are you saying you got mad because you got fomo?” 

He lightly chuckles at the word choice. “It sounds so stupid when you break it down in your own words, but yeah, that’s kinda what happened.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid.” You assure him, it’s probably hard enough having to explain himself after the scene he caused. “I would’ve asked, but you usually have date nights with Yorozu on Fridays, so I never thought to ask.” 

“I’d never choose a date night over spending time with Sayomi.” His voice drops an octave as says those words in all seriousness. “I’m also really sorry for the way she tried to get into our business like that.”

“Can’t blame her, you made it her business the moment you decided you were going to call me out in front of her. Same with Suguru.” 

Fair enough.

“Still shouldn’t have let her talk to you like that.”

“Did you even try to say something to her after I left?” You murmur, twisting the glass around by its stem. “Or does she think she can start arguing with me whenever we fight, because that’s what couples do?”

“We fought over that after you left.” He reveals, his expression grew a little more stressed as he continued. “I told her if she ever pulls some shit like that again, it’s over.” 

You were aware of how heated their arguments could get, so when he tells you they’re bad, you don’t take it lightly. You fully believe him when he says they stayed up until 1:00 am fighting over the fact that he never wanted her to speak to you like that again and how she constantly countered it by saying she was just defending him.

It barely got resolved, she just barely stopped arguing with him when he threatened to break up with her. 

He was so fed up at the end that he even called her an uber home, all he wanted at that point was to be alone— his head hurt, voice all raspy from yelling too. Yet he stayed up for another hour or two just staring at the ceiling and listening to nothing but the faint breeze outside, wondering what the fuck was he even doing with his life.

You hum in response, you’re not sure if his threat is overkill or not, but it makes you feel slightly better. Enough to be okay with her meeting your daughter after a year? Nope. 

“Well thanks, I guess.” You say nonetheless. 

“Yeah…” He takes a deep breath. “I really am sorry. I can apologize to your date too if you want.” 

You almost laugh at the suggestion, he sounds so remorseful, it’s not very fitting of him. “No need— he ended things with me.”

His jaw might as well be on the floor from how shocked he is to hear that. “Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Mhm.” You say, letting how bad he fucked up sink in for him.

“Fuck.” He puts his head down and lets out a low curse. “I’m so sorry… what did he say?”

“He texted me when I got home, saying something along the lines of how my situation was a lot to handle, and that I deserved someone that didn’t feel that way.” You finish the rest of the wine in the glass after saying that. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, genuinely concerned. Heavy lids, brows slightly furrowed, he looks guilty as hell.

“Honestly… yeah. We only dated for three months, I only saw him a couple times a month too. I feel like he would’ve seen something else anyways and backed out.” You’d obviously like for Sukuna to feel bad about it for a while, but it’s the truth. You and Suguru wouldn’t have worked out to begin with. When you two first started talking, he thought that Yomi’s dad was out of the picture— a lot has changed since then. 

Then you bring in one of Sukuna’s record breaking meltdowns, you understand the guy.

Which also leads you to another thing. 

“Listen… you’re always going to have some sort of resentment towards me and I understand that.” You say, breaking the silence. “But I don’t want to spend the next seventeen years having you throw that in my face whenever I do something wrong. I think it’s time that we start thinking about splitting custody with her.”

You obviously haven’t had enough time to think about it, but it’d be easy, especially with how she has her own room at his house now. It’s not like he was bad at taking care of her anyways. If you stop breastfeeding her now, she could probably spend her weekends with him and be perfectly fine.

“What? No, I don’t want that.” He immediately rejects the suggestion, slightly hurt over it. “I don’t want to take her away from you, I’d rather just visit when I can.” 

“And what if I don’t want that?” You argue back. “The last thing I want is for you to teach her that it’s okay to treat me like that. I’ll admit that what I did was a thousand times worse, but that doesn’t mean you can treat me like a punching bag whenever you get triggered over something.”

“I’ve never done any of that in front of her!” He tries to reason with you, but deep down he knows it’s not enough.  

“There’s always the possibility that you will. Look, I’m trying to make it easier on all of us. If me not being around you helps you heal from all of this, then I’m glad to do it.” You continue to explain, but it just falls on deaf ears. 

Yeah, you two have your bad moments, but when it’s good, it’s really good. You two are able to laugh together, easily make decisions over Yomi together. He enjoys being with you— the both of you. 

“You make it seem like I get pissed at the sight or thought of you, I don’t! Last night was just a bad day, I didn’t even want to go out in the first place–” 

You cut him off from going on a rant. “I obviously don’t want you to have bad days, but that’s not my problem, you can’t just use that as fuel to lose your shit on me.”

“I know that.” He murmurs and sighs. 

“And I know that you feel bad and mean it when you apologize, but you need to work on yourself— whether it’s therapy or making some other life change. I can’t keep listening to you apologizing.” 

Therapy? 

You see the weary look he gives you for bringing that up, but he can’t even deny that it’s probably a good option at this point. He already had his own problems to begin with, having a child just makes it all worse. It doesn’t matter how good he is to Sayomi either, she’ll grow up to see how mad he gets when things don’t go his way, you don’t want her learning from that.

“So if I get therapy, you’ll…” He waits for you to finish the sentence. 

“Do nothing. We can keep doing what we're doing. It works, I just can’t have you treating me the way you did last night.” You lean back in the seat and cross your arms. 

He apprehensively looks at you for a bit, not sure if you’re telling the truth. You’re oddly calm for someone that just threatened to remove herself from his life if he didn’t get help.

He’d think you’d be a little bit more emotional about this, but then remembers you’re mentally and emotionally capable of leaving someone without a word. 

“I did all my crying last night.” You say, he just realized he’d muttered that last sentence to himself. 

“M’sorry about that too.” He easily apologizes again. “About all of it, I feel like a fuckin’ asshole.”

You look down at the empty wine glass, which he quickly fills up for you as a part of his final apology, and can’t help but feel guilty at how much remorse he’s showing right now.  

What are you so afraid of? 

It’s not like I’d hide her away from you.

At least now.

But he doesn’t know that, hiding her from him is all that he knows. If only you could be a little more selfless, allow him to make you feel the same way you made him feel at one point. 

An eye for an eye. 

You doubt it’d stop there, there’d be no truce— you’d destroy each other completely.

“Try not to be so hard on yourself.” You take another sip of the freshly filled glass, it makes looking him in the eye a little easier. “I made you this way.”

You absolutely fucking did, he refrains from saying and instead just looks at you back. He’s recently come to realize that this is something you struggle with too, you don’t say it but he sees it whenever he’s having a good time with Yomi. You look happy one minute, then the next you wipe the smile off your face. It’s almost as if you don’t allow yourself to have that experience with them, like you don’t deserve it. 

“We just need to find a way to move on from it.” You say, wrapping up the last of the words you had for him. 

“You’re right.” He’s been holding his breath enough that it’s shaky when he finally exhales. “I’ll uh– I’ll reach out to someone on Monday.”

“Okay.” It comes out so light, it’s almost a whisper. It’s a hard conversation to have, you weren’t expecting him to make it so easy. “Can I ask you something?”

Hearing the answer would probably make you feel worse, but it’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to ask him. 

“Does it have something to do with when we were together?”

“Yeah.” 

“It’s better if you don’t ask, you’re hard enough on yourself as is.” He says, giving you back your own advice. You already know you caused enough pain by jumping to your own conclusions about him, hearing the truth from him was just unnecessary at this point. “How were you supposed to know how I felt about you when I never told you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

The only times he's texted you back then were to see when you’d be free for him, you looked like a booty call on paper. It was stupid of him to think you’d stick around just because he was nice to you. He should’ve taken you out more, called you when he had free time, let you know he missed you whenever you weren’t around. 

It’s not that he was scared, he was just stupid. He genuinely thought you’d just feel it, but you clearly don’t trust your gut. He’ll always wish he told you he loved you, he’d probably be getting ready to go to bed with you right now if he said it all that time ago. 

He looks at his phone to check the time and realizes he’s overstayed his welcome. Not that he’s complaining, you two got somewhere from it. A mutual understanding almost. Maybe he’ll finally be able to have his first decent night of sleep since he saw you at the park that day.

But who is he kidding? 

Mutual understandings don’t mean shit to a man that is unfortunately in love. 

“Do you wanna sleep in the guest bedroom that’s here downstairs?” You suddenly offer after seeing him check the time. He didn’t live far, but it’d probably be nice if he skipped the driving for tonight. 

“You don’t mind?” He asks, skimming through his missed texts. 

“No. I’m sure Yomi would like seeing you in the morning too.”

He chuckles and puts his phone away. “I’d hope so.” 

He tried so hard to hate you, but the love he’s always had for you has sadly grown since being back in your life again. 

And no, you don’t try to deliberately hurt the people you love, like how he did last night. But like what you said, you made him this way, and now he’s stuck having to fix that part of himself. 

What’s worse is he’s happy to do it if that means he gets to stay around you, because you will never be too much for him to handle. He chose the baby in a heartbeat, if only you knew he’d choose you just as fast too.

His phone buzzes again once he’s finally comfortable in the guest bedroom you offered him. For once, he’s not annoyed when he checks it. 

[7:05 p.m] Yor: How did the birthday party go? 

[8:45 p.m] Yor: Did she give you a hard time over what happened last night?

[8:50 p.m] Sukuna: No

[8:55 p.m] Yor: That’s good. Can I come over? I wanted to talk about yesterday.

[8:58 p.m] Sukuna: I wanna be alone rn. ill talk to you tomorrow

notes:

i just wanted to leave this here and the direct quote below for anyone that’s a little confused/needs clarification on what sukuna got mad about during this chapter. he went almost a full year of not knowing he had a child, he has trauma from that. he’s fine with reader going out and doing whatever, he just wants to know where the baby is and who she left the baby with ‼️

“After missing all that time with Yomi…Not knowing what’s going on with her triggers the fuck out of me. I don’t know.. I– when I was getting ready to go out and on my way to the restaurant, I had this idea that you two were at home together and realizing I was wrong made me lose it.“

and also, read the warnings!!! the angst and toxic relationship warnings are there for a reason. i understand that it’s not for everyone, but don’t make that my issue by coming up in my comments and announcing your departure 😭

taglist is closed!

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

Not Just Anybody | baby daddy!sukuna x f!reader

summary: sukuna's been a father for over a month now and seems to be getting the hang of things, or at least he looks like he is. he's no stranger to mental turmoil and it seems to have only gotten worse for him when ever he finds himself alone.

genre: hidden child trope, toxic relationships, ex-fwb to co-parents to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

part two | part three | part four

notes: taglist is closed!!! also this isn't proofread, I'll be doing that right after posting bc im an impatient pos.

The first time you meet him is a blur. You just so happened to be staying at the same hotel that night— you were on your first business trip while he was away for the nth time for a game. You wanted to enjoy the last night of your trip and treated yourself to a drink at the hotel’s bar. It doesn’t take long until Sayomi’s father spots you, goes to sit obnoxiously close to you, and proceeds to ask you what you were drinking, even though he already knew what a martini was. 

You’d think he couldn’t get any more cocky than he already is now, but that’s all what Sukuna was when he was 24 years old. He just couldn’t wait to tell you what he did for a living, and accused you of staring at his thighs to get that conversation rolling. 

“I don’t mind you staring at ‘em, just means I’ve been training right.”

You didn’t ask him to elaborate on that like he thought you would, so he eventually just told you. 

He also eventually convinced you to come back up to his hotel room with him, where he also couldn’t wait to show you how big his dick was and how good he could make you feel with it.

You really don’t remember much except for the way he kept pulling your hips back to meet each thrust and how that alone made you cum more times than you ever have in a single night. And the way he moaned— god it was sexy. So low, so smooth. He’d stare at you with half-lidded eyes, watching his cock split you open and disappear inside of you, in a complete trance over how you took every inch he gave you. 

That was the night he realized he’d fuck you forever if he could, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel that way anymore. 

It obviously didn’t last forever because that’s just not possible, but he did want your number. One could imagine his disappointment when he woke up the next morning and realized it was a fucking pillow that he had his leg thrown over, not the woman who’s guts he spent hours rearranging the night before. 

Fate decided to do its thing though when he spots you on the same plane back home, where you happened to be sitting right next to him in first class. 

No, you never met him in the bathroom for round 2. He tried, believe him, but he understood why you rejected him when he noticed you walking with a slight limp as you got off the plane. He did get your number though, which will always be worth so much more than just a quick fuck in a cramped bathroom of an airplane. 

He especially feels that way whenever he looks at his little girl that he’s known for over a month now— should be 10 months, but it seems to be just him that’s counting with how normal everyone is about this. 

Everyone except for the woman that’s been blowing up his phone, despite upping the number of date nights they have every week. 

He’s been wondering what his 24 year old self would think about all of this. 

Probably happy at first, after finding out the kid he has is with you, then confused after finding out you two weren’t together. Maybe even hurt after finding out how things ended. 

“What did we even do to her?” 

“I don’t fuckin’ know.”

He gets a knot in his stomach whenever he thinks about it long enough. This strange feeling of impending doom begins to wash over him, even when the worst has already happened. He’s constantly having to remind himself that he’s okay and everything will be fine, then he sees you and realizes that you’d slap his hand away if he ever tried to reach out to you. 

Gone is the girl who’d happily lean into his touch— she literally vanished into thin air for him. 

His phone vibrates after letting a call go to voicemail, and finally checks it. 

Yor: Are you sure you can’t leave early? We’ve been wanting to go to the concert for a while now. 

Sukuna: I really can’t, I already told you Yomi’s got an appointment. She’ll probably be in a bad ass mood after, you know how sensitive she is. 

No, she doesn’t know, she’s never met the kid.

He didn’t specify what kind of an appointment it’d be, but he’s sure getting an ear piercing would be a worse experience than getting flu shots or whatever they give to babies.

Truth be told, he just doesn’t wanna be away from her. He spends more time at your house than he has at his own and will probably stay with you both up until her bedtime tonight—ingraining it into his daughter's head that he’ll be there for her every time she feels pain.

She won’t remember it, but it’ll become a subconscious thing. She’ll eventually just know that he’s someone she can go to if she’s not okay. 

You two decided to go in the same car and meet your mom at the fancy piercing shop she suggested, more than ready to spend a fortune on her granddaughter's first pair of earrings.

“Are you excited, sweetie?” She turns to you and asks

“I’m just worried about how long she’ll be sore for.” 

“Just give her some Tylenol.” Your mother simply says, waving off your concerns.

“Fuck, I should’ve called her pediatrician and asked if that was okay.”

“Honey, we used to line your gums with vodka whenever you were in pain from teething, a little bit of baby Tylenol isn’t going to hurt her.” Your mother reveals and Sukuna immediately steps away from her, to which she immediately scoffs at. “It was a different time, okay? I’m sure your parents did the same to you.” 

He ignores her and turns to you, “call them and double check.” 

He met your parents a couple weeks ago and so far it’s been good. Their relationship is very relaxed. You weren’t sure what to expect since it was you that decided to be a single mother, but they were pleasantly surprised to find out who exactly it was, with your father muttering “I fucking knew it” under his breath. 

You ignored that comment. 

They’re just glad their grandchild’s father isn’t a bum, which also confused them more as to why you did what you did. 

“I kinda wanna get mine pierced with her.” Sukuna mentions while rubbing her little earlobe between his fingers. 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah. I feel like she’d cry less if she saw me getting it done first.” He explains his little last minute theory. There’s also no doubt in his mind that they’d look good on him, but that’s something he keeps to himself. 

“Guess it won’t hurt for you to try.” 

He turns to your mother with a shit eating grin. “You tryna buy me a pair of earrings too?”

“Never in my life would I do such a thing,” she laughs a little too hard. “We all know you could buy this whole store and it wouldn’t put the slightest dent in your pocket.” 

“Rude.” He complains boyishly while looking at which diamond studs he wants. “It’s the thought that counts y’know.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind during christmas time. Let’s hope I forget how much Google said your net worth was by then.” Your mother quips. 

“Tch– whatever.” He clicks his tongue and chuckles, then turns to you. “Do you want anything?”

“No, I don’t see anything I like that I don’t already have. Thank you though.” You say after taking a brief look at what they had to offer. In the end you decided it’s probably best if he doesn’t buy you anything, even though there was a necklace in the corner of the glass display that you really liked.

One that he was more than capable of buying.

Soon enough, it’s you holding Yomi while you both wave at her father who’s sitting across from you too. For once, you find yourself appreciative of Sukuna and the lengths he is willing to go to in order to make your daughter's life slightly easier.

It was a smart idea, you could see why he thought that her seeing him getting it done would help the process.

Except when the gun goes off, she flinches and her eyes grow wide in horror as she sees the diamond stud that the little device left on his ear. 

She started crying before the piercer got to Sukuna’s second ear and cried even harder when he actually got the second piercing. You both ultimately decided that today just wasn’t the day you’d get them done— you might not get them done ever given how traumatized the experience of just watching her dad getting piercings has left her. 

The three of you were supposed to go out for lunch with your mother right after, but you also decided that it was best to go straight home. She’s having one of those meltdowns where it’s best to go home and put her to sleep, scheduling the appointment at noon probably wasn’t the best thing to do since it clashed with her nap time. At least she’ll sleep well, you know you do whenever you sob as hard as she is right now.

You ended up having to sit in the backseat to comfort her, which was fine until she decided that she was going to string out the tears, because getting attention from mommy is nice. 

“oohuhuhu,” she whimpered in her little voice, it was so forced— barely any emotion behind it and Sukuna bursts out laughing because of it.

You end up having to look away too, not wanting her to think you were making fun of her. But it was already too late as tears started to well in her eyes again from feeling embarrassed. 

Lately, it’s been him who’s been trying to coddle her whenever she’s in one of her moods. It actually works half the time— something that’s even surprised your parents when they came over the other week and watched him successfully calm her down. 

Today’s not one of those days, she keeps turning around and looking at you— wanting for you to come get her. Sukuna tried turning around so she couldn’t see you and she just stuck her little hand out to the side of him, reaching out for help. At that point you started to feel bad and ended up taking her, not missing the slight pout on Sukuna’s face when you did. 

“Sukuna.” 

“Hm?”

“Can you look away?” 

“Oh right, my bad.” He doesn’t mean it. You throw the baby blanket over you and let him know his eyes were free to roam again.

His eyes go straight to Yomi’s little feet that were sticking out of the blanket and joyously kicking around because she finally got what she wanted, once again reminding him how much of a brat she is. “Are you sure she didn’t get her attitude from you?”

“No, my parents said I was the easiest child ever.” You laugh at how in denial he is of being the one to pass down the ‘tude to her. “Even Jin said she gets it from you, you just didn’t hear him because you were too busy arguing with Yuji.”

“Don’t believe a word Jin says,” he says, taking a seat on the sofa across from the one you were sitting on. “He was a thousand times more sensitive than this one.”

“I’m sure.” You say and leave it at that. After hearing about their parents dying when they were just 18, you try not to talk about anything that would lead to a conversation about them. You’re only cautious about it since Sukuna’s never brought it up before. And aside from sharing a child together, you two just aren't that close. 

“How long are you planning on breastfeeding her for?” He nods at Yomi when he asks, or your tits, you’re not sure anymore. 

“I wanted to be done by the time she turns one, but that’s a month away and I just don’t see that happening.” You sigh, starting to get literal war flashbacks of when you tried to stop. “I tried weaning her off right before you came into the picture and I lost so much sleep that I started seeing shadow figures.”

“What the fuck?” His face twists in disbelief. 

“Yeah.” You wish you were kidding, that was the worst week of your life. “She’d take her normal naps during the day, then she’d cry all night. I had to have my parents come help. I slept for like 16 hours and went back to breastfeeding her.”

“I can always watch her for the night if you wanna try to stop again.” He suggests, it doesn’t surprise you, he’s been like that one guy from the movie Holes. 

I cAn hELp wiTh thAt.

Very sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he has an underlying motive sometimes. 

“Maybe. I thought about trying again when she’s 18 months old.”

“You mean a year and a half?” He tries to correct you. He thinks he might actually lose it if you say she’s 24 months old when she turns 2.

“Same shit.” You roll your eyes at the man. 

“Okay.” He says sarcastically. “The season starts again around that time though, so it’d probably be better if you do that before then.” 

“Oh yeah huh?” He’s been around so much that you almost forgot that he travels half of the year. 

He used to fly you out a lot when you two were messing around with each other. This was back when you had the energy to hop on a flight right after work on Fridays, then get ready for work at 3 am on monday so you could go straight from the airport to work. 

You’d never do that for anyone, ever again. It was so much work now that you’re looking back. There was one point where you did that for nearly a month straight. You just had to stop, but by then he only had a couple weeks of the season left, so he didn’t seem to mind when you tapped out on him. 

“Do you think you two can travel with me for a bit once the season starts?” He asks in a low tone, it’s almost as if he’s nervous to ask. 

“I’m not sure. It's doable since I work from home, but it’s hard traveling with kids.” You hesitantly say. You don’t really travel all that much with her anyways, the thought of being far away from home almost makes you nervous. 

“Well, think about it. Some of the guys on the team are married with children and they bring ‘em along for at least half the time. I’m sure accommodations can be made for you two, maybe even pay for a nanny if you need the help.”

“I will, I’ll let you know in a couple months or something.” You say, before you both are interrupted by his phone ringing again for the third time since you’ve gotten back to the house. 

“You can take phone calls in front of me.” You let out a light laugh. He thinks you don’t know, but you are very aware of how much his girlfriend calls and texts him. 

He lets out a deep sigh while looking at the phone screen, it ends up going to voicemail again, but at that point he’d rather not keep her waiting and calling and waiting and calling.

“It’s probably something important, so I’ll just take it outside.” He mutters before excusing himself and stepping into the backyard. 

By that point, Sayomi’s fast asleep, so you end up sending Sukuna a little text letting him know you’re going to be in the nursery with her. You try not to think about the fact that you heard a couple yells coming out of the backyard as you walk up the stairs. You shut the door too so you don’t have to listen to him fighting with his girlfriend for like the hundredth time that week. 

You set Yomi down in her crib and take a seat in the rocking chair next to it, letting out a little yawn and rubbing the day away from your eyes. Sucks that Sukuna had to take a phone call, you were just about to ask him if he could watch her while you take a little power nap, you don’t get to do much of that anymore.

Your own phone buzzes, but instead of a call, it’s a text from Suguru. 

[11:05 a.m] Suguru G: How’s your morning going?

[01:11 p.m] Suguru G: Just remembered your daughter was getting her ears pierced today, just wanted to ask how it went!

[01:11 p.m] You: Oh my god I never even saw your text from this morning! Sorry about that. And she didn’t even get them pierced. Her dad thought it might’ve helped if she watched him get his ears pierced beforehand, but it ended up scaring her lol

[01:12 p.m] Suguru: LMAO

[01:12 p.m] Suguru: You guys traumatized her

[01:13 p.m] You: I know, I felt so bad! But I think she was just tired too, she woke up kind of early this morning. 

[01:14 p.m] Suguru: Probably. Is everything okay now?

[01:14 p.m] You: Yeah, she’s finally taking a nap, she needed it lol

You hear a little knock at the door and Sukuna comes in right after, walking up to the crib. Except instead of looking at his daughter, he was looking at your phone in your hands— looking like he was about to ask who you were texting. 

And he was extremely close to asking, mainly because he has a habit of starting more fights when he’s in a bad mood, but this time he practices some self control. He already knows it was fucking Suguru anyways and he’d rather not get into all of that when he’s already got other shit to deal with right now.

“I gotta go,” he whispers to you. His hairs slightly disheveled, looks like he’s been pulling on it or something. He leans over the crib and gives Yomi a couple forehead kisses before standing back up at full height. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You whisper back and do a little wave before he gently closes the door.

Even with the door shut and him trying to keep his voice down, you can still hear him suddenly snap and say something along the lines of “I already said I was fuckin’ coming” after picking up the phone, again.

notes: i'm hoping you guys are enjoying the story so far!! seeing the theories and thoughts make me giggle and kick my feet like a little slut, i'm hoping to get back to them very soon!!

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

Not Just Anybody | baby daddy!sukuna x f!reader

summary: co-parenting is hard, especially when it's with someone that's spent nearly two years lying to you. you and sukuna are doing the best you can do for your baby girl, but sometimes things just boil up and spill over. especially when there's unresolved feelings involved.

genre: hidden child trope, toxic relationships, ex-fwb to co-parents to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

master list

part one | part two | part three

notes: taglist is closed!!!

True to his word, Sukuna has started coming over to see the baby– every single fucking day. People would think you’d at least feel a little happy over it, since you're getting extra help and all, but this man is going to drive you nuts. 

And he doesn’t even do anything that bad, it’s just the subtle pettiness from him that’s starting to build up over time. You’re stressed enough from work as is, it doesn’t help when Sukuna comes over in the afternoon with a bag of donuts and makes it a point to tell you there’s not enough for you, when:

There’s absolutely more than enough donuts to share with you.

You never asked or wanted any in the first place.

Sayomi’s not even supposed to have sweets before she turns one. 

But oh well, at least now you know she’s not allergic to donuts. The visits aren’t ever too long, they’re usually a couple hours at most, with the shortest one being 5 minutes when Sukuna had come by to say good morning before going to training. 

Today’s a huge change from the usual visits, he’s watching Yomi for an entire 8 hours. After finding out you had a nanny come by during the weekdays, he was able to convince you to let him take over on Tuesdays. Bless his heart, he has no idea how fast that little girl’s mood changes when she gets tired. 

Lunchtime is usually her nap time and unfortunately, you end up running a little late to go downstairs and see her due to a last minute meeting. By the time 1:00 pm rolls around, you can hear your daughter wailing downstairs, accompanied by the sounds of Sukuna doing his best to calm her down.

Nothing works, she wants you right now and he doesn’t know that since you haven’t really warned him about her record breaking meltdowns just yet. A part of you is genuinely scared for when she becomes an angsty teenager, you’ll probably put yourself in therapy to deal with it. 

He panics slightly when you step into the living room, hoping you didn’t think he did anything to make her cry as hard as she is right now.

“She just freaked out on me, I tried giving her a bottle too but she won’t take it— nothing works.” He immediately begins to defend himself. You just barely hear him through her cries.

“Yeah, she turns into a little demon when she’s tired and wants the boob.” You calmly say while plucking her out of his arms and taking a seat on the couch. He’s amazed at how silent the room became once you started feeding her, he didn’t think it would end at some point and almost wanted to sob with her. 

Now she’s back to being a little angel— must be something she got from you.

“You uh— you don’t have to do that you know.” He mumbles, making some awkward hand gesture at the baby blanket that you’re covering yourself with.

You scoff and shoot him a disgusted look.

“What? She’s my kid too.” He says in defense. “Not like I haven’t sucked on your ti—“

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence.” You cut him off.

“Okay.” He immediately gives up. He’s been enjoying pushing your buttons but knows when to stop, now's the perfect time. “So uhh… my brother’s been wanting to meet her. He wants to meet you too.”

“Oh god is he gonna try to grill me too?” 

“Nah. He’s really nice, just wants to meet his niece and her mother.” He assures you. “I figured it’d be a good way to start getting her involved in my life, introducing her to everyone and all. Yorozu’s been asking to meet her too.” 

“You want my daughter to meet your plaything?” The sly remark slips through your tongue before you even realize how bitter you sound. 

“Girlfriend, actually.” His words stung, especially when he began to laugh in your face. It’s not long until he deadpans and crouches down to meet you at eye level. “Let’s get one thing straight— don’t fuckin’ sit here and act like I played you and broke your heart. I never even tried to get with anyone else when we were fucking each other, so you don’t get to make your little passive aggressive comments when it was you that didn’t want me.”

“Get out of my fuckin’ face Sukuna.” 

“Get your head out of fuckin’ your ass.” He quickly retorts, but does find it in himself to respect your personal space and take a step back. 

This usually happens whenever you’re in a room with him for longer than 20 minutes— the arguments, taking jabs at each other. You two cussed each other out just a few days ago after putting the baby down for her nap. But it usually ends with a quick apology, always from him, never from you. Everything goes back to normal just as fast as it goes downhill. 

The tension in the room ends up getting cut by Yomi’s light snores, bringing you both back to reality. You both honestly forgot she was here for a moment because of how quiet she was and the fact that she was hidden under a blanket.

“She’s knocked out.” He holds back a laugh at how easy it was to get her to stop crying. “Alright, give her back.”

“Don’t you want to take a break and eat or something?” Your voice finally softens. He’s a little surprised that you’re taking his well-being into consideration right now, especially after you told him you hoped he broke both of his legs just last week. 

“I’m good— I was eating some of her snacks with her earlier.”

“That’s disgusting.” You grimace, ruining what could’ve finally been a sweet moment between you two.

“You’re just a picky eater.” 

“Am not.” 

“Most people would eat whatever’s offered to them after getting their brains fucked out for hours on end, yet you still used to find the time to pick out restaurants and which entrees you wanted.” He doesn’t fail to bring your old sex life back up. You don’t know why he does it, especially when he claims to have a girlfriend. You just chalk it up to him being an asshole, it somewhat makes you feel better over hiding from him all this time. 

“That was two years ago.” You try to defend yourself. 

“Yeah? Wanna head up to your room and prove it?” He flashes the world's most smackable smile at you, paired with an evil little twinkle in his eyes. “Yomi’s gonna be knocked out for a good hour, I doubt she’ll hear us.”

That’s your queue to get the fuck away from him and go back to work.

“Take your daughter.” You scoff and hand the milk drunk child over. She fusses just a little bit when you set her into his arms, but she must’ve recognized who her father was and immediately settled down after he started to softly shush her.

He's always so surprisingly gentle with her, even his eyes soften when he looks at her. Couldn’t say the same for when he looks at you, his pupils may as well turn into slits.

“I’m going back to work, don’t bother me until I come back down.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He says, sounding very pleased with himself as he sat back down and put on something to watch while he waited for her to wake up. 

—-

Sukuna was able to set something up with his brother the following Sunday and you opted to walk the 20 minutes to his house rather than driving there. It’s more fun for Sayomi, she’s able to look around more and get some fresh air. 

You reach the gate that leads to the street he lives on, enter the code he texted you, and wait for him to respond through the speaker. 

“Took you long enough.” He immediately complains through the intercom. 

“Did you think I’d actually run here?” You bite back, annoyed he couldn’t even say hi or hello. It’s gonna be a long day and you’re already regretting not making some excuse as to why you couldn’t come. 

“Wait– you walked here?”

“Obviously.”

“Why?” He continues to question you, baffled over a reason you don’t really care to know.

“Because I felt like it, Sukuna. Now can you please open the gate.”

Without another word, the large gate begins to open and you immediately understand why the prices of the homes are astronomically higher than the rest in this neighbourhood. They were all beautiful, yet unique in their own right– with their very own gates. It’s kind of ridiculous, you don’t understand why someone would need that much security, especially someone like Sukuna. He’d probably end up robbing a burglar if he caught one snooping around his home. 

You soon see him jogging up to you, meeting you both half way to his house. 

“You could’ve driven here.” He says, taking over stroller duty since there's an incline on the walk up to his home. You know you’ve made some progress in your co-parenting relationship with him when you don’t even bat an eye at the way he blatantly checks you out before pushing the stroller.

“Relax Dad, it was only 20 minutes and she likes waving at her neighbors and their dogs.” You sarcastically say, he lets out a low laugh at the thought of her waving to everyone walking by. 

“Thought I told you to call me Daddy?”

“Not doing that.” You immediately say before changing the subject. “Is your brother here yet?”

“Yeah, him and Yuji got here like 30 minutes ago.” 

You hum in response, you weren’t too nervous on the way here, but the feeling starts to creep up on you the moment you get through his personal gate and finally see what his house looks like. It wasn’t bad when it was just him being around Yomi, but the thought of introducing her to more people was daunting. It made everything feel so much more real. 

“Don’t look so nervous.” He pulls you out of your thoughts, Sukuna’s surprisingly intuitive sometimes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said my brother’s a nice person. The first thing he asked when I told him about you two was what did I do to piss you off. I haven’t talked shit about you in front of him either… yet.”

“Well thanks.” You mutter back to him. You two finally reach his front door and you pull Sayomi out of the stroller and hold her at your hips, sheepishly following behind her father. 

“Daddy look!! A baby!” A little boy immediately yells out. “Her hair is pink like mine!”

“Yeah Yuj,” Sukuna smiles and chuckles at his nephew's sudden excitement. He was a sweet kid at the end of the day and already knew he didn’t have to worry about him being too rough with her. “This is your cousin, Sayomi.” 

“Is she your baby?” 

“Yes she’s my baby.” He nods at how quickly he put the two together without being walked through it. 

Jin was quick to walk around them and introduce himself to you, just as excited as his son was. Sukuna was right, he was really sweet, it made you wonder if they were raised separately, because there’s no way in hell these two grew up together. 

Sayomi however, was very confused and found herself looking back and forth between her dad and her uncle. She didn’t like it and cried for a good 20 minutes— refusing to even be held by her own father because she probably didn’t know what to believe at that point, poor girl. 

Take the tattoos and beefiness away from Sukuna and he is Jin. You started lightly teasing your daughter to make her feel better and it somewhat worked. Sukuna was definitely offended though since it was at his expense. 

You said all sorts of stuff to her, like how Jin was just Sukuna after a good shower. You and Jin got a good laugh out of that.

“M’kay I think that’s enough, yeah?” He grumbles, wiping a tear streak off his daughter's cheek because she’s a little crybaby. He scoops her up into his arms and begins to playfully scold her. “I’ve seen you everyday for almost 3 weeks now, you should know who I am.”

You and Jin talked for a little bit while Sukuna watched the two kids play. Nobody was worried about Yuji getting bored with her, he talked enough for the two of them and eventually started answering his own questions for her right after asking them. 

Jin kept the conversation light and didn’t bother asking anything too personal, which you greatly appreciated. You’re sure someone will overstep one of these days and you’re glad today’s not one of them. He just kept it about the baby, asking all kinds of questions about her, from milestones to allergies. 

“Do you have anything planned for her birthday?” He got around to asking, since it was two months away. 

“Yeah, her actual birthday falls on a Thursday, so the party’s going to be on the following Saturday.” You say, reaching for the drink you ended up making for yourself. Sukuna tried to say something about you rummaging through his mini bar without permission, but ultimately let it go in hopes that you’d finally be nice to him. “Please feel free to come by the way. A lot of the neighborhood kids will be there too, I’m sure Yuji will make a ton of new friends.”

“Of course we’ll be there.” He smiles. Today’s going better than he had expected. He doesn’t have much of an opinion on what you did and why you chose to do it. His brother has a… strong personality. Whether he’s the good guy in this situation or not, no one’s actually surprised that something like this happened.

Well, except for Yorozu. She’s more than surprised, she’s pissed. But that’s a conversation for another day.

“I can invite some of my teammates right?” Sukuna finally cuts in and asks, after waiting for you to finish your drink. 

“No.” You’re quick to tell him, and he looks like you just shot him in the heart. “We already talked about this, there’s not enough room for them either. You can invite them for her second birthday or something.”

“Whatever.” He waves you off and puts his attention back on the two kids. It was worth a shot, even if he did fail miserably at that.

Jin and Yuji finally leave around 8 when you finish eating dinner together. Even Sayomi surprisingly stayed up to eat with you all. You’re slowly introducing new foods to her, so Sukuna had the idea to overcook some spaghetti for her and she was obsessed. It also put her in a little food coma and made her fall asleep right after, which kinda sucked for you since it made the car ride back to your house extra quiet.

Silence with Sukuna was uncomfortable. There’s nothing to talk about when you’re not fighting over something stupid.

Not one word was uttered during the car ride. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t use your daughter as a shield from that discomfort, but it’s inevitable. You need to get used to it, this’ll be your life for the next 18 years. 

He finally pulls up to your driveway. Despite it only being a less than a ten minute drive, it felt like it went on for forever. 

“Thanks for giving us a ride back.” You avoid his gaze while you say it. 

“Yeah.” He mutters, hoping you’d look at him, but you don’t. “Thanks for coming over and meeting some of my family.”

“Mhm.” You take off the seatbelt and hop out of his escalade, he unfortunately follows suit. The kid’s asleep but he’d damned if he still didn’t say bye. 

“Need help getting her out?”

“Not really, but you can still do it and put her in her crib if you want.” You suggest. It gives him that little extra time he’s looking to have with her. If he didn’t want it, he wouldn’t have asked if you needed help in the first place. 

He’s been good with her so far, so you didn’t feel the need to hover over him while he went upstairs. You didn’t even follow him and went to the kitchen instead to make yourself a cup of tea.  

“Hey.” He finally comes back down after 10 minutes to let you know he was headed out, but then decides to try to have a civil conversation with you.

“Hey,” you turn around and see him leaning against the entryway. “Are you leaving?”

“In a minute– I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay... over what?”

“The little fight we had over me wanting to introduce Yomi to my girlfriend.” 

You let out a little laugh— it wasn’t a little fight, nor was it only once. “Which one? The one where you called me bitter and accused me of being jealous, or the one where you just straight up told me you were going to do whatever the hell you wanted?”

He had a feeling you’d say something like that. It was true, he said all those things in the heat of the moment, but he genuinely didn’t mean them. “Both. I know I said I was sorry right after, but I wanted to apologize again. I’ll back off from trying to introduce her to new people unless you say it's okay.”

You stare at him for a moment and wonder what’s gotten into him, but it all starts to make sense after realizing he probably saw you texting the guy you’ve been talking to earlier. Funny how when the tables turn, he starts to play nice. At one point during one of those fights, he got so mad that you genuinely thought he’d take you to court over custody. 

“Alright.” You end up saying, there was no point in trying to argue with him any further. You got what you wanted, and that’s for him to respect your boundaries as a mother. Maybe you should’ve just told him about Suguru to begin with instead of letting him find out for himself. You set your cup down and cross your arms. “Thanks for the apology, I appreciate it.”

“Mhm.” He grows a little awkward. He’s not used to people thanking him for apologizing because he doesn’t apologize too often. He’s pretty sure this month is the most he’s apologized in his life too. All of the other times he has, you'd just ignore him or tell him to shut up, this is the first time you’ve actually accepted one. “You’d tell me if you were seeing anybody, right?”

You knew that was coming, but still have to take a moment to think about it. “If I wanted them to meet Sayomi, then yeah. If not, I don’t think it would be anyone’s business but my own.”

His eyes slightly darken and zero in on you after you say that. If anything, it’d be him who would be the jealous one, he’s already starting to show it from his physical reaction after the vague answer. “So if you were seeing someone right now, you wouldn’t tell me?”

“No.” You simply say right before taking a sip of your tea. “I’d only tell you if I started bringing him around her.”

“So you are seeing someone?” He asks, trying his best to decipher your words as if you were talking in fucking code. “You just said you’d tell me when you start to bring him around.”

“Hypothetically speaking.” 

He ends up laughing rather darkly at that, he looks like he’s going to explode. While you’d rather not fight with him again, it’s kind of nice seeing him lose a part of his sanity over this, only because of how open he is about his relationship. You’re starting to think he brought her up in the first place to make you jealous after ghosting him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you end up cutting him off.

“Anyways, it’s getting pretty late and I still have work in the morning.” 

You’re feeling confident that if you stop the conversation here, there won't be any awkward tension when he comes back tomorrow. It doesn’t seem to work though, you can see the wheels turning in his head.

“Right. M’kay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He murmurs back, it sounds more like a threat than anything else, but you’ll deal with it tomorrow when you're a little more well rested. 

He stays pretty civil, up until you begin to close the front door and you hear him grumble to himself while opening his car door. But once again, it’s not your problem for tonight. 

—

As if Sukuna’s mood couldn’t get any worse, he comes home to a phone that has 23 missed calls and 18 text messages. Thank god he left his phone at home, you would’ve definitely found a way to use that against him. He takes a deep breath before calling Yorozu back, hoping to god she just fucking believes that he wasn’t doing anything wrong, even though not responding to her all day looks bad.

“Hey babe.” He says after she picks up, not even bothering to greet him. “It’s been a long ass day, I just got home.”

“I thought you said your brother and baby mama were visiting you.” She immediately tries to call him out, trying to catch him in a lie. 

“They did. She just walked here with the kid, they all ended up staying longer than I thought they would so I ended up just driving them back.” 

Yorozu’s not very trusting of him when it comes to you, especially when she already knew about you before he found out he had a child with you. She’s not even sure if Sukuna remembers it himself— getting absolutely plastered around 8 months ago, then going off on her because he was so drunk that he thought she was you. 

He said a lot that night, from saying you broke his heart to begging you to take him back. It’s probably best he doesn’t know about that night either, that was a really low point for him.

He was just starting to get over you too, hence why he finally asked her if she wanted to make things official. 

And now you’re back, ruining everything again.

"I bet you she only walked there just so you'd give her a ride back."

notes: lol so much drama hope u guys enjoyed

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

Not Just Anybody | baby daddy!sukuna x f!reader

summary: on the rare occasion that sukuna takes his nephew out to the park, he notices another kid with blush pink hair— a baby to be exact. he tries not to stare too much, but it’s hard not to, it’s a rare hair color. it’s not until the baby’s mother takes her out of the swing set and back into her stroller when he realizes why you ghosted him almost 2 years ago.

genre/warnings: hidden child trope, ex-fwb to co-parents to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

master list

part one | part two

Sukuna wasn’t very obsessed with the thought of having children, that desire (or lack of) continued to dwindle after his nephew turned 4 and is now all over the fucking place. He doesn’t mind watching him, but with each year it's becoming more difficult trying to get the kid to focus and listen to him. 

“Yuji.” The man barks out, beginning to scold the boy because he immediately starts running across the street the moment the crosswalk sign turned on for them. Didn’t matter if it was a private neighbourhood, he’d speed through the signs as much as anyone else. “I told you to hold my fucking hand– get over here.”

“Oops, sorry!” Yuji starts to skip back. It’s almost insulting how unworried he is when it comes to Sukuna and his temper, but he’s used to it by now. He reaches out to hold his uncle’s hand– even having the audacity to swing it back and forth. Sukuna just lets him because he ends up feeling bad whenever he yells at Yuji while he’s happy. 

He guesses the one thing that’s gotten easier when it comes to watching the little crackhead is that he can now finally take him to the park. He’s able to run all that unnecessary excess energy off, making mid-afternoon to dinner time easier because he just eats and naps until Jin comes to pick him up. 

Yuji’s especially excited today, they're going to a new park that’s just down the street from Sukuna’s new house. It was a nice neighbourhood too, Sukuna already knew the place was going to be like Disneyland for the kid. 

“Uncle! Look!” Yuji yells out. 

He’s been looking this entire fucking time, why are children like this? Yuji’s slightly better than most, immediately flipping under the monkey bars like a pro after receiving his Uncle’s nod of approval. 

“Good job, Yuj.” He says in return. Jin should really take him to a parkour gym one of these days… maybe get him checked for adhd too while he’s at it. 

He continues to watch the boy until he suddenly hears some baby’s laughter on the other side of the playground. It reminded him of when Yuji was a baby, always squealing over something, even if it was something as simple as ripping a piece of paper in half. It was cute. 

He tried to drown out the noise, but this kid was having the time of their life, so he eventually looked in the direction of where the laughter was coming from. He’s genuinely surprised when he sees a little baby girl with fluffy pink hair. It’s a rare hair color and outside of his family, he’s only seen less than a handful of people that naturally had it in his entire 27 years of life. 

She couldn’t be older than a year old. Her mother– or nanny, this neighborhood has a ton of them, is kneeling in front of her and gently pushing the swing back. Everytime she pushes the swing back, the laughter gets louder.

The lady eventually picks the baby up and smothers her with kisses… the same way you used to smother him with kisses, almost 2 years ago. 

And the moment you turn around and place her back in her stroller, it becomes very apparent as to why you completely ghosted him 1 year and 7 months ago. 

Yes he’s kept track, you were the best fuck of his life. He’s been chasing that high after you practically vanished off the face of the earth, you even changed your phone number. For all he knew, you were dead.

Sure, he complained about Yuji here and there, but it couldn’t be that bad to the point where you decide not to tell him anything and just raise a baby completely on your own.

Maybe you weren’t all on your own to begin with. That thought makes him continue to mentally spiral, he’s honestly ready to fuck everyone up at this point.

“You fucking bitch.” He murmurs to himself as you begin to walk off with the child that is without a fucking doubt his. He quickly grabs his phone and calls a close friend, one that’s a little too good at finding people's personal information. 

“Hey what’s u–”

He immediately cuts Uraume off and cuts straight to the chase. “I need you to find someone’s address for me.”

---

“How’s the party planning going?” Your mother asks, trying to keep the conversation going, in hopes of her granddaughter waking up before you inevitably end the conversation. 

“It’s alright,” you vaguely answer. “I don't know, I’m not too worried about it. I told the planner to just make it pink and cute… and to trust her gut so she doesn’t bother me too much.”

“Honey!” She scolds you. “It’s your daughter's first birthday for christ sake, can you sound a little more excited about it?”

“I am excited,” you hiss back. “It just makes me sad to think about how fast time went by, I don’t want her to grow up.”

“I was sad about it too when I was planning your first birthday, but I was still included in the process.”

“Well that’s you.” You giggle as you finish wiping the kitchen counter. “It’s not that big of a deal, there’s party planners for a reason.”

“You’re going to look back one day and regret it.” She says, you can hear her shuffling around in the background. 

“Maybe.” You mumble, thinking about other things you’ll probably regret more than not being included in the process of planning a party. 

Like not telling Sayomi’s dad about her. 

You always wonder what his reaction would be if he were to ever find out. It’d most likely be one filled with rage, you’re just not sure if it would be towards having to be responsible for a little human being or towards the missed time. 

Probably the former. He was as irresponsible as they come, but so were you– at least at that time anyways.

You both were too busy in your careers to settle down, it’s why you never put a label on things. With anyone else, you would’ve put your foot down— if they’d didn’t claim you, you were gone. 

Not with Sukuna, he made you weak.

He made it so hard for you to put your foot down that you never even considered asking the dreaded “so what are we?”

He gave you just about everything during those meetups— he was fun to talk to, made you feel wanted, even the aftercare he gave you was unmatched. 

He fucked you like he loved you— slowly dragging his cock out of you, as if he wanted you to think about what you were missing in those few moments. All just so he can shove himself back into you, as a reminder that everything you needed was right there, on top of you. 

He’s a fucking asshole, but knew how to play the role of a loving boyfriend in the hours you visited him. 

Keyword: in those hours. Outside of that, he was practically none existent. But you couldn’t blame him, he was an up and coming rugby star. He spent his days training or strategizing with his teammates for the next game, he spent half of his year traveling. He didn’t have time for anyone but himself.

Eventually, you started ditching a condom all together. You swore your birth control would do the job— it fucking didn’t, and a part of you still wants to sue that company. 

But you don’t, because it wouldn’t hold up in court due to the 1% chance it won’t work, or whatever that percentage is. Plus, you don’t want your daughter getting on your case over it one day if she did find out. 

It’s not her, it’s the principle.

It was your fault at the end of the day. You were just straight up reckless with the way you let him.. ahem— begged— him to come inside of you each time he was all up in your guts. He’d taunt you for being weak, driving his dick inside of you even faster and harder whenever you showed signs that you were close, then encourage you to cum right on his cock that’d split you open each and everytime time you met up with him. 

You were so scared at first, going back and forth on how you should tell him– if you should tell him. A big part of you wanted the baby and convinced yourself he’d make you get an abortion out of fear that you might just be after money, so you never did. 

Yeah, you gaslit yourself.

But everything turned out better than you thought it’d be. Your parents were willing to set you up in a gated community just because it was safer for you and your daughter to live there. They pay the rent while you pay for everything else. 

You now run your own business managing multiple businesses’ social media accounts. It’s quite lucrative, so you’re able to afford a nanny while working from home.

Your parents love Sayomi and don’t hold back showing it. They don’t know who her father is, you won’t tell them… but she oddly looks like a well known rugby player that's from the region. 

It's a suspicion they keep to themselves though, they like spending time with her and would rather not start an argument with you after asking who the father is. It didn’t end well last time, so they just avoid the topic now. 

You’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts after someone rang your doorbell, must be your neighbor that you became friends with shortly after moving here. She’s the typical neighbour that shows up at your door asking for sugar or eggs comically enough. 

“Can I call you back, mom? Someone’s at the door.” You kindly interrupt her. 

“Actually, we can continue this later.” She sighs, you can hear her keys jiggling. “I’m leaving for a yoga class right now.”

“Okay. Have fun!”

“Thank you sweetheart. Give Yomi a kiss for me when she wakes up.”

“I will, bye.” The doorbell rings again right after you hang up, which slightly annoys you since they haven’t been waiting that long. It’s like they think a second ring is gonna have you running to the door. 

It rings a third time and you hold your tongue, yelling back is just going to wake up the baby. 

You finally open the door and an immediate chill runs down your spine as you look up at a very angry Sukuna. He as tall as ever, presence as imposing as ever, and for the first time it is you that his anger is directed towards.

His eyes momentarily drift down to your chest before speaking. “We need to ta–.”

Completely terrified as to how he even found you, let alone get past security to even enter this neighborhood, you immediately slam the door in his face.

And you should be terrified, he begins to laugh before raising his voice. “I see you haven’t changed one bit.” He says— hoping you can hear him, hoping your back's up against the wall and panicking right now. “I haven’t changed either, sweetheart. Better open up before I show you I’m still crazy as fuck if you piss me off.”

You’ve seen it before, multiple times, just not towards you. Each time you saw it, you’d always pray that you’d never find yourself on the receiving end of the man's wrath. 

“You need to leave before I call the cops. You can’t just go around threatening people like that.” You say, powering through the shakiness of your voice. 

“And you can’t just hide a child from their father either. I saw you two at the park, let me see her.” His voice is still calm, but becoming more firm. He knows you're bluffing. “I’m giving you 10 seconds to open this door before I give you a reason to call the cops.”

There’s nothing but silence from your end, it’s infuriating to him. Each second that passes, he feels like he’s slowly being removed from his own body, being replaced by something that thrives off rage. 

And for you, you kind of wanna die right now, but unfortunately you can’t because you have a daughter to take care of. The sound of his voice ends up being drowned out by your own thoughts, thinking about the possibilities of what would happen if you opened that door. 

But before you know it, you’re quickly pulled back to reality as he ends his countdown and begins to bang on your door incessantly. 

“Open the door— I’m not fuckin’ around, open the FUCKING DOOR.” He yells out your name, pounding at the door so hard you’re sure he’ll break it off its hinges. “I’m not fucking leaving until you open up and let me see her! You should be glad I came here instead of going straight to my lawyer you piece of SHIT– OPEN THE FUCK UP.”

As if it couldn't have gotten any worse, your daughter wakes up from the ruckus. Her cries will always be ten times worse than Sukuna’s knocking, you’re convinced from the way she is screaming from the top of her lungs as if someone were hurting her.

“Fine just.. shut up! Please!” You finally snap and nearly beg from the overstimulation of listening to your daughter crying and a grown man literally barking at the same time. You begrudgingly swing the door open and he’s met with a set of tired, glossy eyes and decides to settle down. “I just put her down and it takes forever doing it.” You lightly complain.

He says nothing in the response, slightly stunned at how quick your mood changed. Not like he has much of a choice though, you storm off before he gets the chance too– being left to shut the front door on his own and awkwardly wait at the foyer because he doesn’t know where the hell you went off to. 

The house is nice, almost as big as his. But it’s also too big for just the two of you, leaving him to wonder again if you had a partner or something. Not that he’s one to talk. He lives alone, but he has his family and girlfriend over often since he has the space to entertain guests.

Fuck— he just asked if she wanted to make things official last month. She’s not gonna be happy about this.

His thoughts are quickly pushed away though when he hears the sounds of footsteps, whimpering, and you gently shushing them. 

You and the baby finally come into view, both frowning at him for different reasons. He was too far away earlier to see, but aside from your eyes and death glare, the girl looks just like him. 

Sayomi’s staring at him with a look that screams “what the fuck is this stranger doing in my house”, all while gently sniffling because she is rightfully pissed about being woken up. 

You can’t help but notice how stiff he is while looking at his carbon copy and decide to be the first one to speak up, by formally introducing him to her. 

“This is Sayomi and she’ll be 10 months old in a week.” It’s cuter when you say it to other people, their reactions are usually squishing her cheeks and raving about how adorable she is. Sukuna looks more shell shocked than anything. “...Do you wanna hold her?”

“I mean… yeah, but not if she’s just gonna get mad at me and start crying.” He says, while Sayomi continues to stare him down. Well, at least he respects boundaries, that’s sort of a good sign. 

“Lucky for you, she stares at things she finds interesting. If she didn’t want you to hold her, she’d have a death grip on to me right now with her face tucked into the crook of my neck.” 

He has a quick flashback of how he used to do the same with you whenever he was tired, but quickly shakes it off. Now’s not the time to start yearning for you or your touch all over again, he literally just got over you. 

“You sure about that?” He says, slightly hurt from the way she’s side eyeing him. 

“Positive.” You hold back a sigh at his hesitance. He was acting like he was going to murder you just 5 minutes ago, now he looks like he’s scared of an innocent baby. “Just take her please, my arms are starting to hurt.”

It’s one of the things that comes with having a child with a rugby player, they’re chunky. But you can’t complain too much, she’s very huggable. 

You end up handing her to him before he gets another chance to protest, not bothering to instruct him on how to hold her because you know all about how he’d watch Yuji. Even with your child being in the 90th percentile, she still looks miniature when being held by him. 

“Look at you, cheeks are all wet from cryin’.” He murmurs, beginning to wipe them off. She sniffles again and lets out a deep sigh in response– you both know it's a good sign, she’s finally settling down after getting ripped out of her sleep. “M’sorry, I just wanted to meet you.”

You talk to her normally too, so she usually babbles back to people in response, which is what she does in response to his words. It’s ridiculous(ly) (cute), watching her slowly open up to him just minutes after losing her shit— something she gets from her father. Each time she babbles out some incoherent sentence, he acts like he knows what she’s saying and she smiles a little more each time. 

“Mama.” She suddenly turns to you and says, pointing her finger at him. It's her little way of asking who he is since you always tell her the names of things she points at.

“That’s Dada.” You say in response. “Can you say Dada?”

“…Ada.” She confidently says.

Close enough. 

You avoid Sukuna’s gaze, you can just feel how annoyed he is at this point. “Has she said Dada before?”

“Mhm, last week.” You say enthusiastically, playing with Sayomi’s hand after she grabbed onto your thumb.

“Must’ve been her tryna manifest me. Probably thinking, ‘let me meet my dad, you conniving bitch’ or something.” He says in the same smooth tone.

“Watch it.” If he weren’t holding her right now, you would’ve smacked him for calling you that. 

“Did I lie?” He argues with you in a playful tone, then turns his attention back to his daughter who’s completely unaware of anything for obvious reasons. “‘Cause last time I checked, your Mama hid you from me.”

“Don’t do this in front of her.” You warn him.

“Fine.” He lets it go, after getting one last jab in. “Any other words that I missed out on?” 

“She also knows how to say no.” 

He chuckles, “sounds like my kid.” 

“Unfortunately.” You say under your breath. It wipes the smirk off of his face but you don’t notice it since you start to walk away from him, he quickly follows with little Sayomi in his arms. 

“How did you find me? Actually, how did you even get past security?” You ask, leading him to the living room.

“I know someone. I also live in the northern part of the neighborhood.” He not-so-humbly brags. That’s the area where you need to go through three different gates just to get to a house. “Just moved there last week.” 

No wonder why you haven’t seen him at the private grocery store yet.

“Well that’s… good.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I don’t know what else to say. I don’t even know what to think right now to completely tell you the truth.” You admit.

“Yeah? Imagine how I feel.” He scoffs, plopping down on the couch with the baby still in his arms. “Can she walk yet?”

“No, she’s able to pull herself up and stand for a couple seconds though.”

“Is that so?” He looks back at her, at this point her interest has moved on to something else— the little bunny plush on the other side of the couch that she’s pointing and humming at. 

You beat him to it and hand it to her before sitting down beside him, with a reasonable amount of space between you two. He’s taking this a lot better than you thought he would, probably because he wants to behave right now in front of her. 

“Why’d you do it?” He murmurs as he fiddles with the bunny’s ear while Sayomi continues to play with it. 

“Guess I was scared of your reaction,” you begin to pick at your cuticles— a bad habit that should’ve been dropped a long time ago. “Thought you’d make me get an abortion or something.”

“That wasn’t for you to decide.” He sighs, surprised that you thought that low of him. He wasn’t around a lot, but he was nice to you when he was. Not once did he ever raise his voice at you, never snapped at you. Even when he was ordering food delivery, he'd let you pick-- every single time. “It wasn’t for me to decide whether you wanted to keep her or not either.” 

“I know.” You sigh, leaning back out the couch and giving yourself a moment. “I was scared.” 

“You said that already.” He looks down at the kid then back up at you, unsure if he should just feel thankful that he’s here now or if he should just continue to be pissed. “That’ll never be a good enough answer for me.”

“For what it’s worth, it was something I’ve always regretted after giving birth to her.”

He only hums in response to that, trying his best to hold his tongue because it’s hard to believe. If you truly did regret it, you would’ve reached out to him. He’s convinced you would’ve gone the rest of your life without telling him. “Are you gonna let me be in her life now or am I gonna have to fight you over that too?”

“What does being in her life look like to you?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs, taking the time to think it through. He works a lot, travels a lot, parties a lot. “We’re technically neighbors, so how about I just start coming over to see her for now. I’ll figure the rest out later.”

“We can do that.” You cautiously say. 

Hopefully he keeps it fair, he has the upper hand already by being the good guy for once.

a/n: soooo do we think sukuna's gonna be a good boy?

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love comes in small sizes

chapter one : fatherhood dlc unlocked!

pairing – ex situationship gojo x fem reader

summary : you and satoru have always been something—never labeled, never defined. from jujutsu high to stolen rooftop kisses, your dynamic is a mess of healing hands, half-confessions, and his infuriating habit of getting hurt just to keep your attention.

but when the weight of loss and pride tears you apart, you walk away—until fate (and a tiny, pink-backpack-wearing menace) drags you back into his orbit six years later.

tags –> canon divergence au, fluff, angst, humor, hurt/comfort, unlabeled relationship, grovelling satoru, secret child trope, reunions, miscommunications, second chances, happy ending for my own sanity

series masterlist. | other works here. | next.

you and satoru gojo have always been something.

it’s just never been labeled.

from the moment you met at jujutsu high, he’s been a persistent force in your life—loud, overbearing, impossible to ignore. he pokes and prods, worms his way under your skin, grinning all the while like he knows exactly what he’s doing. and maybe he does. because despite your best efforts, despite the way you roll your eyes when he drapes himself over you or tugs at your sleeves like a child craving attention, you never really push him away.

it’s not just him, though.

because when he gets himself banged up on missions—when he returns with blood crusted at the edges of his uniform, bruises forming along his jaw, the scent of battle clinging to his skin—you’re always the first to reach for him. your hands glow with soft, golden light, the warmth of your cursed energy threading into his wounds, coaxing his body to knit itself back together. petals flicker at your fingertips, dissolving into faint sparks of vitality as you work, the remnants of your technique blooming in the air between you.

“you’re reckless!” you snap one evening, pressing your palm firmly against his shoulder where a deep gash is slowly knitting itself back together under your touch. his uniform is torn, the edges stiff with dried blood, and you can feel the way his muscles twitch beneath your fingers, still tense from the battle. “you always do this. you push yourself too far, like you think you’re invincible—”

“well,” satoru interrupts, flashing a toothy grin, his glasses pushed up just enough to reveal the brilliant blue of his eyes, “i kind of am.”

his voice is light, teasing, but you can feel the way he’s watching you—closely, carefully, like he’s waiting for something. the smirk he wears is easy, practiced, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, not when he’s tilting his head just slightly to the side, pressing into your touch like it’s the only thing anchoring him. and you hate that it works, that even now, even with blood still drying against his skin, he makes you want to soften. you press your fingers harder against his wound instead, ignoring the way he winces.

“not funny,” suguru chimes in from across the room, his voice steady, edged with something like exasperation. he’s lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine like he’s only half-listening, but you know better—he’s watching, just like you are, waiting for satoru to take this seriously. “she’s right, you know. if you keep acting like you can’t get hurt, one day you will.”

“oh, come on,” satoru groans, tilting his head back against your lap dramatically, the weight of him pressing against your legs. his hair, messy from the fight, falls over his forehead in uneven strands, white against the deep red of his uniform. “not you too.”

shoko, sitting cross-legged on the floor, exhales a slow stream of smoke from her cigarette, her eyes lidded with fatigue. “they’re not wrong,” she mutters, flicking her gaze toward you. there’s something knowing in the way she looks at you, something amused. “you’re enabling him, you know.”

you scoff, fingers glowing faintly as the last of his wound seals shut beneath your touch. the golden light of your cursed technique flickers briefly, petals of energy curling along his skin before fading. “i am not enabling him,” you argue, shaking your head. “i’m keeping him alive.”

“see?” satoru grins, nudging your thigh with the back of his hand, the warmth of his skin bleeding through the fabric of your pants. “she cares about me.”

shoko scoffs. “no one’s arguing that.”

suguru finally glances up, closing his magazine with a quiet thud, something unreadable in his expression. “just don’t let him drag you down with him.”

your fingers still against satoru’s skin for just a fraction of a second, your breath catching in your throat before you shake your head, forcing yourself to keep moving. “as if.”

but suguru just hums, unconvinced.

and maybe he has a point.

because this is your dynamic: you take care of satoru, and he lets you. you worry, and he pretends there’s nothing to worry about. he teases, you scold, he grins, you sigh. and beneath it all, something quiet lingers, something neither of you are willing to name.

and if he lets himself get wounded just once, just enough for you to heal him—if he lets a single well-timed hit slip past his defenses, allows an enemy to believe, for the briefest moment, that they’ve bested him—well. that’s his secret.

it’s calculated, precise, a game only he knows he’s playing. he times it perfectly, choosing the kind of wound that won’t alarm you too much, won’t make you furious enough to see through him. a shallow cut here, a bruised rib there—just enough to warrant your hands on him, to feel the warmth of your cursed energy bloom against his skin. because no one touches him like you do. no one else can.

you’re careful with him, always, even when you’re mad—especially when you’re mad. your fingers press firmly against his skin, your lips pressed together in concentration, a deep furrow between your brows that he finds himself staring at more often than he should. your cursed energy hums through him, soothing in a way nothing else ever is, wrapping around him like petals caught in the wind—delicate, fleeting, something he wants to hold in his hands but knows will slip through his fingers if he grips too tightly.

so he watches you, through half-lidded eyes, through lashes that are a little too long and glasses that slip just slightly down the bridge of his nose. he commits the moment to memory—the feel of you, the way you hover so close but never quite meet his gaze, like looking at him too long will make you realize something you don’t want to. he wants you to realize it. he wants you to notice the way his breathing slows under your touch, the way he always finds a reason to lean just a little closer.

but you never do. or maybe you just pretend not to.

so he lets himself get hurt, just enough. lets himself have this, just for a little while longer. because if a single wound is the price for your hands on him, for the way you fuss and scold and heal him all the same, then—well. that’s a price he’s more than willing to pay.

but then, one summer night, something shifts.

it’s late—too late to be sneaking around campus, but that’s never stopped him before. the air is thick with the lingering warmth of the day, cicadas humming lazily in the distance. the two of you are perched on the roof of the dorms, your legs dangling over the edge, the wind stirring your hair as you watch the city lights flicker beyond the trees. it’s peaceful, or at least it should be, but satoru is shifting beside you, too fidgety, too present, like he’s itching to say something but hasn’t quite figured out how.

“so.” he nudges you with his elbow, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair, silver strands catching in the glow of the moon. his eyes, unshielded, are startlingly bright even in the dim light, a vivid cerulean that traps every flicker of movement like a kaleidoscope. “you like anyone?”

you glance at him, raising an eyebrow, unimpressed. “what?”

he grins, but there’s something a little too deliberate about it, the corner of his mouth curling just so. “you know. anyone in particular? anyone special?”

it’s meant to be casual. lighthearted. but there’s something just beneath the surface, something careful and quiet in the way he’s looking at you. his fingers tap idly against his knee, his posture loose, but you can feel the tension coiled just beneath his skin, like he’s holding his breath.

you hum, pretending to think, tilting your head slightly. “maybe.”

his grin widens, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “yeah?”

“yeah.” you tap your fingers against the edge of the rooftop, the faintest flicker of cursed energy sparking at your touch, like an afterthought. the air shifts, charged with something unspoken, something weightier than the teasing banter you’re used to. “he’s a pain in the ass, though.”

“must be a great guy.” his voice is light, but there’s an edge to it, something strained and expectant.

“oh, he is.” you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, watching the way his jaw tenses just slightly. his lips part like he wants to say something, but no words come. “except he never shuts up.”

“rude.” he gasps, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense, his other hand bracing against the rooftop beside you. he’s closer now, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the faint brush of his knee against yours. “i am a fantastic listener.”

you snort. “sure, satoru.”

but he’s still watching you, still leaning just a little too close, his breath feather-light against your skin. the glow of the city lights flickers in his eyes, catching on the sharp angles of his face, softening the usual mischief in his expression into something quieter, something almost careful. his lips part like he wants to say something, but he hesitates, tongue flicking out to wet them before he closes his mouth again. his fingers twitch against the rooftop, curling and uncurling like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you, like the only thing keeping him still is the weight of whatever he’s holding back.

and then, just as you’re about to look away—

“you know,” he says, voice softer now, like he’s testing the weight of his own words, “if you did like me, i wouldn’t mind.”

your breath catches, the warmth of the night suddenly pressing too close, thick and stifling against your skin. cicadas drone in the distance, but the sound barely registers, drowned out by the rushing in your ears, the quickening of your pulse. the wind stirs your hair, cool against the heat creeping up your neck, but it does nothing to ground you when he’s right there, close enough that you can see the way his lashes flutter, the way his throat bobs as he swallows. the moment stretches, fragile and precarious, balanced on the edge of something neither of you can quite name.

he shrugs, tilting his head like it doesn’t mean anything, like he hasn’t just shifted the entire atmosphere between you. “i think we’d be good together.” the words are light, almost offhand, but his fingers betray him again, tightening into fists against his knees before forcing themselves to relax. his lips twitch at the corners, not quite a smile, not quite a smirk—something caught between expectation and defense, bracing himself for whatever comes next. the confidence in his voice doesn’t match the way his body betrays him, and it hits you then—he’s nervous.

your heartbeat quickens, hammering against your ribs, the weight of his words settling into your chest with something sharp and dizzying. you swallow, throat suddenly dry, fingers pressing against the rooftop like you need something to hold onto. “is that so?” your voice is steadier than you expect, but there’s something uncertain about the way it lingers between you, something questioning, something hopeful.

“yeah.” his gaze doesn’t waver, doesn’t drop, doesn’t shift away like he’s waiting for you to call his bluff. he leans in, just barely, just enough for his knee to brush yours, for his breath to ghost against your cheek, for the air between you to thin into nothing. “it is.” 

he’s waiting. you could push him away, laugh it off like you always do. you could pretend this is just another one of his games.or—

you let the moment stretch, your fingers tightening in your lap, cursed energy sparking faintly against your skin. the world narrows, the sound of the cicadas fading, the city lights blurring at the edges of your vision. and then, before you can second-guess yourself, before you can let yourself hesitate, you lean in, pressing your lips to his.

he makes a small sound of surprise—quickly swallowed by the way he cups your face, the way he kisses you like he’s been waiting forever. his hand slips to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, his touch warm and sure. he leans into you, pressing closer, like he wants to drown in the moment, like he wants to lose himself in you.

and maybe he does.

because the next thing you know, he’s pulling you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist, his grip possessive in a way that makes your breath hitch. his infinity is off, the faint hum of his technique gone, and it’s only then that you realize—he wants this. wants to feel you, every point of contact, every shiver that runs through you as he presses open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, your throat, your collarbone.

“satoru.” you murmur, fingers curling against his chest.

he exhales a shaky laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “just let me have this.” he whispers, and for once, there’s no teasing lilt to his voice. no cocky bravado. just quiet, aching sincerity.

the night stretches on, the cicadas singing their endless summer song, and somewhere between the tangled sheets and the soft, breathless laughter, you think—maybe he’s been waiting for you, too.

after that night, everything changes.

not all at once—at first, it’s subtle. the way satoru lingers a little too long when he passes you in the hallways, his fingers ghosting against your wrist before he pulls away like it never happened. the way he leans in when you speak, as if he needs to hear every single word, as if your voice is something he can’t go without. the way his gaze finds you in a crowded room, even when you’re not looking back, even when you pretend you don’t feel it burning into your skin.

but then, it happens again.

it happens when he grabs your wrist after training, dragging you away before you can protest, his grip loose but insistent. “come on, let’s go. training is boring, and it’s not like you need it—you already have a god-given talent. or, well, a you-given talent, i guess.” he flashes that insufferable grin, the one that makes it impossible to say no, the one that makes it feel like you’re the only one who matters. his thumb brushes over the inside of your wrist before he lets go, like he’s reluctant to lose the contact. like he’s testing a boundary neither of you are willing to acknowledge.

it happens when he shoves a half-melted ice cream into your hands, his own already half-eaten, a smudge of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. “i got your favorite,” he says, like it’s nothing, like he didn’t memorize the exact flavor you picked out the last time. and when you reach out with your thumb, swiping the chocolate away, his mouth closes over your finger without hesitation—lips warm, tongue flickering against your skin, blue eyes watching your reaction like he’s waiting for you to flinch.

but you don’t.

it happens when you end up pressed against the side of a vending machine, his hands braced on either side of you, his breath warm against your cheek. the fluorescent lights flicker, his sunglasses slipping just low enough for you to see his eyes—half-lidded, unreadable, something unspoken resting just behind them. he tilts his head, his lips brushing against yours, not quite a kiss, but close enough that it feels like one. and when you let out a slow, shaky breath, his fingers skim against your waist, trailing up the fabric of your uniform, just light enough to make you shiver.

it happens when he sneaks into your dorm after curfew, flopping onto your bed like he owns it, his hair messy from the wind, the scent of the night still clinging to his clothes. “move over,” he complains, but he’s already pressing against your side, already hooking his chin over your shoulder, already making himself at home in your space like he belongs there. and when you sigh, when you give in, he grins against your skin, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your shirt like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

and then, it just keeps happening.

but it also happens in other ways.

like when you fall asleep in class, forehead pressed against your arm, and you wake up to find his jacket draped over your shoulders, the faintest trace of his scent lingering in the fabric. you don’t mention it, don’t thank him, but the next time he dozes off, you tug your scarf loose and wrap it around his neck, watching the way his lips twitch in something like satisfaction even in sleep.

or when he holds his umbrella over your head instead of his own when it rains, his hair dripping wet, grinning like an idiot when you call him stupid. “what? i have my own built-in defense system,” he teases, tapping his temple like he’s making a point. but he doesn’t turn infinity on, not once, even when the water beads against his skin, soaking through his shirt. even when you huff and tug him under the umbrella properly, even when he bumps his shoulder against yours and murmurs, “see? you do care.”

or when he shoves a handful of candies into your pocket, grinning when you shoot him a confused look. “i know you like these.” he says, voice light, offhanded, like it isn’t something he noticed just from watching you. later, you find a small sticky note tucked between them, a doodle of himself with his tongue sticking out, with tiny scribbled words beneath: for when you miss me. you will.

it’s not a relationship, not exactly. neither of you say anything about it, neither of you try to define it. but there’s a shift between you now, something thick and heavy in the air, something that settles in the pit of your stomach whenever he looks at you like that.

like he’s waiting for you to stop him.

like he knows you won’t.

and when it happens again—when his lips finally, finally press against yours, when his weight settles over you, pinning you down in a way that makes your breath hitch—there’s no hesitation. there’s no teasing remark, no cocky grin, just the warmth of his hands on your skin, just the quiet hum of satisfaction when you pull him closer. he doesn’t turn infinity on, doesn’t keep any distance between you, lets himself feel you completely, like some lovesick idiot. like he wants to remember exactly how this moment feels, how you feel.

shoko notices first.

it’s not even subtle—the way she leans back against the school’s rooftop railing, cigarette dangling from her lips, eyes half-lidded in amusement as she watches you fuss over satoru’s scraped knuckles. he’s practically melting under your touch, his head tilting slightly as if he’s trying to press more into your palm without making it obvious. you’re focused, brows drawn together, lips pursed in mild annoyance at his carelessness, but your hands are gentle, fingers skimming over his skin with practiced ease. his long legs are stretched out in front of him, his glasses perched low on his nose, letting you see the way his bright blue eyes soften when they flicker up to meet yours.

“so, are you two, like… a thing?” shoko asks, lazily exhaling a puff of smoke, watching the way satoru’s mouth twitches at the question.

“no,” you say immediately, your voice firm, but at the same time, satoru hums, “hmm, maybe?”

your head snaps toward him, brows raising in disbelief, while he merely grins like he expected this reaction. his free hand comes up to push his sunglasses up properly, but the motion is slow, languid, like he’s trying to keep his grin hidden behind his palm. shoko lets out a snort, flicking the ash off the tip of her cigarette, unimpressed.

“yeah, okay.”

suguru is quieter about it, but he doesn’t need to say anything. it’s in the way his gaze lingers when satoru drapes himself over you, in the way his lips twitch like he’s holding back a knowing smile whenever you roll your eyes but don’t push satoru away. when satoru unceremoniously drops himself onto your lap one afternoon, long limbs sprawling across the bench, suguru doesn’t comment. he just looks at you, looks at the way your fingers absently thread through satoru’s hair, the way his lashes flutter at the contact, and he knows.

“you’re really serious about her, huh?” suguru muses one evening, when it’s just the two of them on the rooftop, the sky bleeding into shades of deep purple and burnt orange.

satoru scoffs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, but there’s no real bite to it. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

suguru only shrugs, turning his gaze toward the horizon, the wind ruffling his dark hair. “nothing. just wondering.”

but if there’s one thing about suguru, it’s that he doesn’t wonder about things unless he already knows the answer.

still, life goes on. there are missions, there are late-night walks, there are stupid jokes and stolen glances and moments where the world feels like it’s standing still, like it will always be this way. satoru still rests his chin on your shoulder when he’s bored, still tugs on your sleeve when he wants your attention, still lets his infinity down when you touch him. suguru still watches with quiet amusement, still nudges satoru’s foot under the table when he gets too obvious, still exchanges glances with shoko that say this idiot is hopeless. everything feels steady, like nothing could possibly go wrong.

until it does.

until riko amanai dies. until satoru comes back from that mission looking—different.

his presence is still overwhelming, still too much, but there’s something sharp underneath it now, something cold that wasn’t there before. his shoulders are broader, his stance heavier, his hands looser at his sides, like he’s more aware of their power now. he’s grinning, like always, like nothing’s changed, but it doesn’t reach his eyes—not really. the endless blue of them looks deeper now, like a well with no bottom, like something in him has caved in and been swallowed whole. he’s stronger, untouchable, but suddenly, it feels like he’s farther away than he’s ever been.

and worse than that—suguru is slipping.

you feel it before you fully understand it. the way his voice is quieter, the way his patience wears thinner, the way he sighs more often, rubbing a hand over his face like he’s tired in a way that sleep won’t fix. his words become sharper, his glances more distant, and when you reach for him—when you try to hold onto whatever is still left—he only offers you a fleeting smile, a ghost of what it used to be.

one day, you watch satoru and suguru stand side by side, just like always—just like they always have. satoru is saying something, something cocky and arrogant and so typically him, but suguru doesn’t bite back the way he used to. he just listens, nods absently, something unreadable flickering in his expression. and for the first time, it feels like there’s a canyon between them, a chasm that wasn’t there before, widening with every passing second.

you don’t know it yet, but things will never be the same again.

one year passes.

twelve months, fifty-two weeks, three hundred and sixty-five days—each one dragging by in a haze, dissolving into the next like watercolors bleeding together. sometimes, satoru forgets where he is, what day it is, what he was supposed to be doing before his mind wandered again. everything feels muted, muffled, like he’s watching the world through a fogged-up window. time keeps moving, but nothing feels real.

suguru is gone.

satoru barely blinks when it happens. it should feel like something—something bigger, something louder, something that shakes the world the way it shakes his chest. but all he does is sit there, in the quiet aftermath of his best friend’s defection, listening to yaga’s words like they’re coming from underwater. the room is too small, too tight, pressing against the edges of his skin, and yet he’s weightless, floating in some vast nothingness where things don’t really matter. his fingers twitch, restless, aching for something to crush between them, but what’s the point? if he destroys the walls, the floor, the entire goddamn building, it won’t bring suguru back. it won’t change a thing.

he doesn’t remember leaving the room, but suddenly he’s outside, staring at the sky. it’s clear, painfully so, stars scattered across the darkness like someone thought to mock him with how vast it is. the wind tugs at his uniform, cool against his too-warm skin, and still, he doesn’t feel anything. it doesn’t make sense. none of it does. suguru wouldn’t leave. suguru is—was—his other half, the one who understood him in ways no one else could. he has you, he has shoko—but it’s not the same. it will never be the same. satoru is the strongest. the strongest doesn’t lose things.

except now he has. and no matter how tightly he grips the edges of his own world, everything still slips through his fingers.

you find him there, quiet for once, his head tilted back as he watches the stars. the moonlight catches on his white hair, turning it almost silver, his sunglasses hanging loosely between his fingers. you don’t say anything right away, just stand beside him, close enough that your shoulder almost brushes his. he’s grateful for that, the silent understanding, the way you don’t push him to talk when he doesn’t want to. but it’s you—you—and eventually, your voice cuts through the thick, choking air.

“come inside, satoru.”

he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “not yet.”

you hesitate, then sigh, your fingers brushing over his sleeve. it’s light, barely there, but he still feels it. you’re real. that’s something, at least.

“you can’t keep doing this.”

he doesn’t know what you mean—staring at the sky? ignoring everything? pretending suguru didn’t leave?—but he just laughs, a short, hollow sound, and grins at you like none of this matters. like he isn’t crumbling under the weight of something he refuses to name. “doing what?”

you don’t smile back.

you don’t say anything at all.

but your fingers tighten against his sleeve, just for a second, just enough for him to feel the warmth of you before you step away.

and he can’t—he won’t—let that happen.

before you can take another step, his fingers close around your wrist, pulling you back toward him. it’s not gentle, but it’s not rough either—just firm, desperate in a way he won’t let himself acknowledge. you stumble slightly, your palm landing against his chest, and he doesn’t let you move away.

“don’t,” he says, barely above a whisper. his voice is raw, frayed at the edges, like he’s holding something back. his fingers tighten, his grip the only thing grounding him. “not yet.”

your eyes search his, looking for something, anything, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to give you. he only knows that he needs you to stay.

“satoru…” your voice wavers, and he hates it—hates that you sound like you pity him, hates that you might see him for what he really is. but you don’t pull away.

his free hand lifts to your face, brushing against your cheek, barely there, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds too tightly. you don’t. you stay.

and then you’re kissing him. or maybe he’s kissing you. it doesn’t matter—he just knows that your lips are warm, that your hands clutch at his jacket, that he’s losing himself in the way you breathe against his mouth. it’s messy, uncoordinated, more about needing than anything else. he doesn’t care.

he just wants.

it doesn’t take long before he’s pushing you inside, backing you into his room, his grip never loosening. you let him. maybe you need this too. maybe you need something real just as much as he does.

it’s not love. not really. it’s a desperate, clumsy attempt to hold onto something—each other, maybe, or just the pieces of a world that’s slipping through both of your fingers. it’s the press of his body against yours, the way his hands shake against your skin, the way neither of you speak because there’s nothing left to say.

when it’s over, you stay, your fingers tracing idle patterns against his skin. his arms are loose around you, his breathing slow, almost steady. but he’s not asleep. he won’t sleep. not tonight.

his grip tightens just slightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. it’s unhealthy. he knows it. you do too. but neither of you move.

not yet.

a month later, you come to him late at night, standing in his doorway like you’re already bracing for a fight. your arms are crossed tight over your chest, fingers gripping at the fabric of your sleeves, like you need something to hold on to. your weight shifts from one foot to the other, hesitant, uncertain, like you’re not sure if you should even be here. but your eyes—your eyes are worried. tired. heavy with something he can’t quite name yet, but it makes his stomach twist all the same.

“satoru, we need to talk.”

he groans, throwing himself back onto his bed like a petulant child, limbs sprawled carelessly across the sheets. his uniform jacket is crumpled beneath him, the collar tugging awkwardly at his neck, but he doesn’t bother fixing it. instead, he throws an arm over his eyes, sighing dramatically. “ugh, if this is about me skipping out on yaga’s stupid lectures again—”

“it’s not about that.”

your voice is clipped, firm in a way that makes his fingers twitch where they rest against his forehead. something in your tone makes him hesitate, but he doesn’t sit up just yet, doesn’t acknowledge the way his stomach knots at the sharp edge of it. instead, he props himself up on one elbow just enough to grin at you, lopsided and careless, blue eyes glinting in the dim light of his room. “then what? are you finally confessing your undying love for me?”

you exhale sharply through your nose, pressing your lips together so tightly they pale at the edges. your jaw tightens—not in frustration, but in restraint, like you’re biting back words you can’t afford to say. for the first time since you walked in, your gaze flickers away, dipping down toward the floor, then back up again. “satoru.”

his smirk falters.

it’s barely noticeable, the shift so subtle that most people wouldn’t catch it—but you’re not most people, and you always notice. he covers it up with a roll of his shoulders, a quick raking of fingers through his hair, but he can’t stop the way his chest tightens, the way something uneasy coils deep in his gut.

he doesn’t like it.

you take a breath, shoulders rising and falling with it, like you’re steadying yourself. your stance shifts, one foot moving slightly behind the other, like you need an escape route, just in case. “i—”

“’cause i mean, it’s pretty obvious.” he barrels right over whatever you were about to say, voice light, teasing—too quick. he leans back against the pillows, arms crossed behind his head, a lazy grin stretching across his lips. “can’t blame you, really. i am incredibly handsome. the strongest, too—”

“satoru, this is serious.”

your voice cuts through his like a knife.

his grin twitches, faltering at the edges, but he doesn’t let it fall completely. instead, he groans, sitting up in one fluid motion, his frustration bleeding through in the way he rakes a hand through his hair. his bangs fall messily over his forehead, but he doesn’t push them back this time. “yeah, yeah, everything is serious with you lately.” his words come out sharper than he intends, but he doesn’t stop. “you know, you used to be fun. we used to be fun. now all you do is worry, and nag, and—”

you flinch.

it’s small. barely a twitch of your fingers, a quick inhale, a tightening of your shoulders. but he sees it, and the moment he does, regret clenches in his throat.

too late.

your fingers curl in on themselves, your nails pressing into your palms. your expression remains composed, but he sees the cracks forming—the slight tremble in your exhale, the way your shoulders stiffen as if bracing for impact. “satoru, i need to tell you something.”

his pulse kicks up.

it’s barely noticeable, the way his fingers tighten around the fabric of his pants, but you’re not most people, and you always notice. there’s something about the way you say it—something final, something that makes his skin prickle with the kind of unease he can’t shake.

he doesn’t let you.

“what? that i’m reckless? that i’m changing?” he cuts in, sharp and bitter, words laced with something dangerously close to something real. something he doesn’t want to name. “yeah, i’ve heard it all before.”

“satoru—”

“what do you want me to do, huh?” his voice rises, frustration twisting into something uglier, something more desperate. “cry about it?”

a long, heavy pause.

your face shifts—something breaking, something splintering right in front of him, and he hates it. your gaze flickers downward, away from his, away from the conversation entirely. your fingers curl tighter, drifting to your stomach, barely grazing the fabric of your shirt like—

he doesn’t get the chance to figure it out. because whatever it is, whatever you were going to say, it dies before it can even reach him.

you exhale, slow and measured. your fingers curl deeper into your sleeves, knuckles turning white, tension wound so tight in your shoulders that it hurts. there’s something unreadable in your expression, something quiet and distant, and for the first time in a long time, satoru doesn’t know what you’re thinking. the uncertainty makes his skin itch, makes his stomach turn. and then, finally—

“nevermind. i’m leaving.”

he scoffs, an ugly, humorless sound, sharp and bitter in the stillness between you. his lips curl, not in a grin, but in something twisted, something that doesn’t reach his eyes. “yeah, right.”

but you don’t roll your eyes. you don’t laugh. you don’t give him the reaction he’s expecting, the easy back-and-forth that makes it all feel normal. you just look at him—long and quiet and sad, your fingers still trembling where they clutch your sleeves.

“i’m serious.”

his chest feels tight, like he’s breathing in smoke, like his ribs are about to crack under the weight of something he refuses to name. the words don’t settle right in his ears, don’t make sense in his head, don’t belong in your mouth. you don’t leave. not him. not this.

but then you say it—you tell him you can’t do this anymore, that you’re leaving jujutsu society, that you can’t watch him become someone he’s not. your voice is steady, but there’s something fragile in it, something raw at the edges, like you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him. you say it like a choice, like something you’ve decided on, but all he can hear is that you’re leaving him.

and it makes him panic.

so he does what he always does when he panics—he lashes out.

“fine, go then.” his voice is venomous, cutting, every syllable sharpened into a weapon. he means for it to hurt. he needs it to hurt. “if you really think i’m so hopeless, just leave like he did.”

the second it’s out of his mouth, he wants to take it back.

because you freeze. because something inside you cracks, visible in the way your breath hitches, in the way your fingers curl into your palm like you need to hold something, anything, just to keep yourself together.

your mouth opens—then closes.

whatever words were lingering on your tongue, whatever truth you had been about to give him, they wither before they can take shape. they don’t belong here, not after what he’s said. not when he’s already decided to throw you into the same abyss as him. the realization settles in your chest like something sharp, something splintered, pressing against your ribs.

he doesn’t deserve to know. he doesn’t even want to know. so you just nod, slow and deliberate, as if committing this moment to memory—his face twisted with something between anger and regret, his fingers curled so tightly into the fabric of his pants that his knuckles go white. something hollow settles in your gaze, something distant, something final.

then you turn around.

and you walk away.

but just before you cross the threshold, just before the distance between you stretches into something permanent, you pause. your hand lingers on the doorframe, fingers splayed against the wood, as if you’re waiting—waiting for him to stop you, to say anything that might make this easier, to give you even the smallest reason to stay.

he doesn’t.

so you exhale, steady and soft, and when you finally speak, your voice is barely above a whisper. “i hope it’s worth it, satoru.”

he doesn’t ask what is ‘it’—his pride, his stubbornness, his refusal to let you in—because he knows. he knows. then you leave, and he watches you go, convinced you’ll come back.

(you don’t.)

six years pass him by, and it’s safe to say that it wasn’t worth it.

he never says it out loud—never lets the words leave his lips, never even lets himself think them too long—but the truth lingers, settling deep in his bones like a slow, creeping ache. he feels it in the way silence stretches too long in his apartment, in the way he still catches himself pausing at the door, expecting to hear your voice. it’s in the way his fingers twitch, like they still remember the shape of your wrist in his grasp, the way his bed feels too big now, empty in a way that nothing else quite fills. he tells himself it doesn’t matter. that he doesn’t care.

(he does.)

at first, he’s bitter. you left him. you gave up on him. just like he did.

the thought twists, ugly and sharp, digging into the tender parts of him that he refuses to acknowledge. he doesn’t dwell on it. won’t. he has better things to do, more important things—missions, responsibilities, a world that won’t stop turning just because he wants it to. so he throws himself into work, into being the strongest, into playing the role that everyone expects of him. if he keeps moving, if he keeps winning, maybe—maybe—he won’t have to think about what he lost.

but then the quiet comes.

it always does.

he can hold it off for a while, can drown it out in the noise of battle, the weight of duty, the voices of the students he’s taken under his wing. but eventually, when the dust settles and the world slows, when it’s just him and the empty space where you used to be, the silence seeps in, heavy and suffocating. it presses against his ribs, sits in the hollow of his chest, winds around his throat like something clawing for a home. and in those moments, there’s no ignoring it.

he dreams about you.

sometimes, they’re good. warm. the kind that make him wake up reaching for something that isn’t there. he dreams of your laughter—light and careless, curling around the edges of his mind like something precious. he dreams of your touch—the way you used to smooth your hands over his shoulders when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, the way your fingers would toy with the hem of his uniform absentmindedly, like you didn’t even realize you were doing it. he dreams of the way you used to look at him, with something so soft in your eyes, something he never knew how to name.

but other times, the dreams aren’t good.

sometimes you’re standing at the door, gaze unreadable, voice soft as you whisper, “i hope it’s worth it.” sometimes you’re walking away, and no matter how fast he moves, how desperately he reaches, he can’t catch up. sometimes you turn back, but there’s nothing left in your expression, like you’ve already disappeared, like you were never really there. and sometimes—sometimes, you don’t look back at all.

he thinks about looking for you. about dropping everything and scouring the world until he finds you, because if anyone can, it’s him.

but if you wanted to be found, you wouldn’t have left.

so he lets you go. or at least, he tries to. he tells himself it’s for the best, convinces himself that this—this missing, this hollow ache, this unbearable emptiness—is just another thing he has to live with. 

at least he pretends to.

and satoru seeing you again in what supposed to be an another monotone day clearly doesn't help his already pathetic facade.

he wasn't expecting to see you again, he dreamt about it often, that much is true but not like this.

not in the middle of a crowded mall, washed in artificial light, where the air smells faintly of buttered popcorn and overpriced coffee. not with the hum of idle chatter pressing in from all sides, footsteps tapping against the polished tiles, distant laughter ringing from a store playing a song he doesn’t recognize. not standing in front of a shelf filled with pastel notebooks and gel pens, head tilted in quiet contemplation as you skim the label of a glittery-covered planner. not looking so much like you that it knocks the breath from his lungs, like he’s been punched in the gut by the weight of time itself.

six years apart, and yet, seeing you now—nothing has changed.

your fingers still tap absently against the book’s spine, your brow still creases just slightly in thought, your weight still shifts from one foot to the other in that familiar, absentminded sway. it's the same little habits he used to watch from across a classroom, half-listening to you scold him for never taking notes, grinning when you’d huff in exasperation, muttering something about how even if you copied mine, you’d still flunk the test, gojo. it’s muscle memory now, the way he leans forward ever so slightly, the way his lips part to call your name before he even realizes it.

for a split second, he forgets the passage of time, forgets that you aren’t seventeen anymore, that he isn’t either, that the six-year gap between then and now has swallowed whole everything that was once soft between you.

somewhere between one breath and the next, his feet move on their own. he doesn’t remember closing the distance, but suddenly he’s there—standing right beside you, close enough to see the way the artificial lighting catches on the curve of your lashes, close enough that his pulse trips over itself in something stupidly close to nerves.

“woah,” he blurts out before he can stop himself, because he’s never been good at thinking before speaking, never been good at silence. his voice comes out rougher than he means, cracking on something fragile, so he leans into bravado, tilting his head with a grin like this doesn’t feel like the start of something dangerous. “didn’t take you for the cute little stationery type.”

you freeze.

not in an obvious way. it’s a flicker, a split-second hesitation, just the faintest shift in your shoulders, the way your fingers still against the spine of the planner. it’s long enough that something in his chest tightens, long enough that he wonders if you might run.

then, finally, you turn to him.

and satoru, for all his power, for all his foresight, for all his years of learning how to predict and anticipate—he’s completely unprepared.

your face is the same. but not really. the softness he remembers is still there, but refined, tempered into something quieter, something heavier. time has carved something sharper into the delicate lines of your features, something weary, something distant, something closed. and when your eyes meet his, something ugly churns in his gut at how unfamiliar it feels, how your gaze doesn’t hold him the way it used to—how it skims over him like he’s anyone else.

and then you open your mouth.

your lips part, hesitation flickering in your gaze, the faintest shift of your brows betraying something unreadable—something he isn’t sure he wants to name. for a moment, your throat bobs like you might say something else, something more, but then your expression settles into something carefully neutral. practiced. distant.

“gojo.”

not satoru. never satoru.

his stomach twists, and for a brief second, he hates himself for expecting anything different. of course, it would be gojo. of course, you would opt tl say his last name like it belonged to a stranger, disregard his first name like it was just a word, just a title—like you hadn’t once whispered it into his skin, like it hadn’t once meant home.

he exhales sharply, a smirk curling at the edges of his mouth, though it feels stiff, foreign, like it doesn't quite fit on his face anymore. his hands shove into his pockets, his shoulders rolling with a forced ease, but the tension lingers, settling somewhere in his spine.

“so,” he drawls, playing it easy, playing it light, playing it like the years between you never happened, “you a teacher now? or just hoarding sparkly pens?”

there’s a flicker of something—amusement, maybe, or the ghost of it—passing through your expression. fleeting. barely there. but he catches it, latches onto it like a dying man gasping for air, like proof that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t the only one drowning in this moment.

and then you exhale, a quiet huff—not quite a laugh, but close enough that something in his chest clenches, tight and aching.

“it’s not for me.”

not for you.

his fingers twitch before he can stop them, the urge to reach out settling deep in his bones like an instinct he thought he’d long buried. his six eyes, ever-perceptive, drink you in without permission, tracing every minute detail, cataloging every shift in your stance. the way your shoulders hover between tension and ease, the way your weight subtly shifts as if you’re fighting the impulse to move—toward him or away, he can’t tell. but it’s your hands that betray you the most, your thumb brushing absently against your palm, slow and methodical, a grounding habit, a tell he never got the chance to memorize.

and yet, for all the little details his sight clings to, it’s the absence of something that twists like a knife beneath his ribs.

the faint indentation on your finger. a whisper of what once was—or maybe what never came to be. a ring should have been there. but it isn’t.

hope is a sickness, and it spreads fast, coiling through him like wildfire, igniting something reckless, something desperate. before he can stop himself, before he can think—before he can remind himself that hope has never done him any favors—the words slip out, raw and unfiltered as he stepped closer. “then who—”

but you do something he doesn’t expect. you step back. not much. just an inch.

but it’s enough.

enough to silence him, to lodge something cold and sharp in the hollow of his chest. enough to remind him that time is not a wound that can be rewound, that the six years between you are filled with things he was never there to witness. enough to remind him that no matter how tightly he might want to cling to the past, you have already let it go.

your expression doesn’t falter, doesn’t crack, but there’s something in the way your lashes lower just slightly, in the way your lips press together, careful and deliberate. restraint, or maybe consideration—like you’re choosing your words with more care than he deserves.

“it was nice seeing you, gojo.”

was. past tense. final.

his stomach twists, his throat constricts. he hates how easily you say it, how effortlessly you close the door between you.

you turn to leave. his whole body locks up. he should let you go. if he were a better man, he would let you go.

but he’s never been a good man, has he? never been selfless, never been someone who could bear to lose something precious to him—not again, not again, not again—

“wait,” he blurts out, reaching for you—

but in the corner of his vision, something shifts.

small. deliberate.

he doesn’t see it.

doesn’t see the way a tiny figure leans forward from behind a display shelf, chin tilted up in blatant curiosity, eyes sharp and calculating. doesn’t see the way her fingers tighten around the straps of her pink, glittery backpack like she’s bracing herself for something—like she’s trying to piece together the scene before her with the unrelenting scrutiny of someone who refuses to be left out.

she isn’t hesitant. she isn’t uncertain.

she watches.

studies.

eyes flicking between you and him, her expression shifting through something unreadable—thoughtful, shrewd, maybe even the slightest bit unimpressed, like she’s already decided she doesn’t like what she’s seeing.

he doesn’t see her.

doesn’t see the way she plants her feet, stance wide like she’s ready to charge forward and insert herself into the conversation the way only a child with too much confidence can. doesn’t see the way her tiny mouth presses into a firm, stubborn line, the way her nose scrunches in concentration, the way her little fingers drum against her arm as if waiting for the right moment to interrupt.

because right now, for the first time in six years, he finally saw you again. he only sees you.

he can only see you.

satoru doesn’t breathe.

not at first.

not when you disappear from sight, not when the absence of your presence leaves behind something gaping, something cold, something he doesn’t have the words to name. six years. six years of nothing, of static, of moving forward because what else was there to do but move? and now—now you were here, now you were leaving again, and if he doesn’t do something, doesn’t say something—

before he can even take a step, before he can even exhale—a tiny, pointed presence looms at his side.

looming shouldn’t be a word that applies to a child. but here she is. cornering him.

when he finally registers her, she’s already staring up at him, blue eyes sharp, head tilted in deep, almost theatrical thought. her posture is relaxed, but not in the way a child’s should be—no fidgeting, no nervous glances, no uncertainty. instead, there is something deliberate in the way she plants her feet, how she clasps her hands neatly in front of her, how she breathes so evenly it’s like she’s assessing him.

the soft scent of vanilla clings to the air around her, mixed with something delicate, maybe peach-scented lotion. her sneakers—pink and white with sparkly laces—are pristine, barely creasing as she shifts her weight. her cardigan, worn off her shoulders like a fashion statement, matches the ribbons in her hair, and her ruffled socks peek out from beneath the hem of a dress that isn't a princess dress but might as well be with how carefully chosen it looks—pale pink with embroidered flowers, soft and dainty.

but the most striking thing about her, above all, is that she is him. down to the way her lips purse in contemplation.

she blinks. once. twice. assessing.

and then, with all the grace of a tiny, self-proclaimed noble who has just encountered a most peculiar sight, she tilts her chin up and announces—“ugh. you’re taller than i thought.”

satoru blinks down at the little diva frowning up at him, her brows furrowing like he’s already failed some unspoken test.

she is… dazzling.

for all the wrong reasons.

because that is his nose. those are his eyes.

the slope of them, the sharp, fox-like tilt—so much like his own that it knocks the air from his lungs. it’s all there in the way her gaze flickers between calculation and feigned indifference, in the way her lips purse in mild dissatisfaction, in the way she shifts her weight onto one foot, expectant. her presence is something deliberate, something intended, as if she is waiting for him to notice her. but that’s ridiculous, right? right?

his throat bobs, dry. he clears it anyway.

satoru barely catches himself before he lets out a laugh—sharp, surprised, incredulous. instead, he exhales through his nose, slow and careful, before slipping his sunglasses off and hooking them onto his collar. the world is suddenly too bright without them, but he needs to see her properly. he lowers himself to one knee, eye level with the little diva who stands before him, hands on her hips like she owns the entire shopping district.

“uh.” he cocks his head, scanning her face for any sign of hesitation. none. not a single crack in that unshakable confidence. “hey, kiddo? are you, uh… lost?”

the reaction is instantaneous.

she gasps—loud, dramatic, affronted.

both hands fly to her chest as though he’s just accused her of something heinous, scandalized horror flashing across her tiny face. her perfectly arched brows shoot up beneath the sharp cut of her bangs, pink lips parting with the kind of exaggerated disbelief that could only be described as theatrical. she takes a step back, but not like she’s retreating—no, she makes it look intentional, like a leading lady on stage setting up the perfect moment of tension.

“excuuuse me?” she demands, her tiny chin tilting higher, voice dripping with the kind of indignation only the truly self-assured can muster. Her hands, small but precise in their movement, land imperiously on her hips. “do i look like a peasant who gets lost?”

satoru blinks.

for once, his mouth moves faster than his brain, but that doesn’t mean it makes sense. He opens his lips, closes them, then opens them again, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. “uh—”

“i have an impeccable sense of direction,” she continues, not even sparing him a glance as she flicks her hair over her shoulder, her tiny fingers adjusting an imaginary crown. her eyes shut briefly—dramatic, self-important, as if recalling some great tragedy. “unlike mommy, who keeps walking the wrong way even with google maps.”

he startles.

it’s subtle, a twitch in his fingertips, a shift in his stance—so minor most wouldn’t even notice. but he does. he notices everything. the way her voice rounds out just slightly as she says mommy, the sharp, confident edge softening into something softer, something practiced. it’s natural, the way she says it, habitual, like it belongs to her in a way no other word does. there is no hesitation, no awkwardness, no resentment—only warmth.

only fondness.

or maybe he’s imagining things.

he’s still trying to process it when—

“anyway.” she rolls her eyes, slow and deliberate, like she’s giving him the benefit of the doubt and immediately regretting it. her voice is lighter now, offhanded, but the unimpressed arch of her brow makes it clear: he is wasting her time.

“let’s get back to business.”

his brows furrow. “business?”

“yes, business.” she plants a tiny hand on her hip like she’s about to announce the world’s next big fashion trend. her stance is commanding, legs slightly apart, the picture of confidence despite being barely three feet tall. “keep up.”

satoru isn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely isn’t this.

because the way she looks at him—no, studies him—is unnerving. there’s nothing idle about it, nothing remotely innocent. her gaze is razor-sharp as it sweeps from his feet to his head, dissecting every detail like she’s mapping out a blueprint only she understands.

the pristine uniform. the tall frame. the striking, almost unnatural contrast of white hair and blue eyes.

he's been stared at his whole life, but never like this—never like he's the one being judged. the gaze on him is unwavering, sharp, dissecting him piece by piece as if stripping him down to something more raw, more human. then, as if arriving at some profound conclusion, she lifts her tiny chin and flips her bangs with a small, decisive nod.

“you have white hair.”

her lashes lower slightly, a subtle shift in expression that tightens something in his chest.

“you have blue eyes.”

satoru’s pulse stutters.

before he can process the shift in atmosphere, she clasps her hands together, fingers lacing neatly over her chest. the movement is fluid, graceful, too composed for a child so young. it reminds him of a practiced performer, someone who understands the weight of gestures, of theatrics.

then, with the finality of a verdict, she nods again.

“i guess you’ll do.”

…do what now?

he stares, momentarily incapable of thought.

there is something deeply unsettling about being scrutinized by someone who barely reaches his waist. yet, there is an undeniable weight to the moment, a strange sort of gravity pressing against him. he can feel it—his own energy mirrored back at him, sharp and self-assured, too knowing for a child so young.

his lips part, but he isn’t even sure what he wants to ask.

the answer comes before he can find the question.

“so,” she announces, as if stating the obvious, “i need you to pretend to be my dad.”

satoru chokes.

the cough rattles his ribs, sharp and sudden, like his own body is rejecting the reality of what he just heard. he presses the back of his hand against his mouth, shoulders tensing, but it does little to stifle the noise. his throat burns with the effort, and yet, the words still echo in his mind, rearranging themselves into something even more absurd.

he drags his palm down his face. “come again?”

the menace—no, the tiny, immaculately dressed con artist—squints at him.

“are you hard of hearing?” she enunciates, slow and patient, like she’s explaining a simple concept to a particularly dense student. her small hands settle on her hips, fingers tapping in silent judgment, and the stance is so eerily familiar that it sends a ripple of unease down his spine. her chin tilts up, her expression unwavering—like she’s used to being the one in control of conversations, and the thought alone is terrifying. “i said, i need you to pretend to be my dad for a father’s day event at school.”

something in his stomach lurches.

his brain can’t keep up. the words don’t fit, don’t make sense, don’t align with anything logical. she says them with such ease, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, but for him, it’s the equivalent of a meteor crashing into his reality.

his throat is suddenly dry. “that’s… uh…”

“obviously, i don’t have one. and you were talking to mommy earlier, so you must be one of her friends.” she shrugs, breezy, nonchalant, as if she’s discussing the weather.

but it is a big deal.

a very big deal.

his heart is pounding so fast he might actually pass out.

“mommy always comes with me, and i guess she’s cool and all,” she continues, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. the movement is casual, self-assured—the same unconscious confidence he had as a child. satoru watches, helpless, as she flicks the curl over her shoulder with a tiny sigh, her expression morphing into something contemplative. “but i pity her, y’know?”

his throat tightens.

“pity.” he repeats, blankly.

“yeah, like.” she exhales, weight shifting onto one foot, lashes fluttering like she’s the protagonist of a soap opera. “all the other kids have dads, and she’s stuck with me all the time.”

his breath catches.

she sighs again, deeply, dramatically, as if she’s making some grand sacrifice. her lower lip juts out ever so slightly, just enough to look a little more pitiful, like she’s spent time perfecting this exact expression. “so, i figured i’d do something selfless and find a dad for the day.”

satoru swallows, something thick and unnameable clogging his throat. “that’s… very generous of you.”

she preens. “i know, right?”

and then—she leans in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“but don’t tell mommy,” she warns, expression shifting in an instant. her eyes are dead serious, her tiny fingers curling into the fabric of her dress as if to physically hold the secret in place. “she’d get mad.”

his stomach drops.

the weight of her words slams into him with the force of a truck, hollowing out his insides. his pulse roars in his ears, loud enough to drown out the hum of the store’s overhead music, the chatter of passing customers, the clatter of shopping baskets. he feels it somewhere deep in his chest, a sensation not unlike free-falling—because of all the ways this day could’ve gone, this was never in the realm of possibility.

“mad?” he echoes, voice suddenly hoarse, the word barely scraping past the dryness in his throat.

“mhm.” she nods sagely, lowering her voice even further, like she’s sharing classified information. her tiny fingers tighten around the straps of her pink backpack, knuckles pressing into the glittery fabric as she leans in just a fraction more. her expression is thoughtful, brows furrowing slightly, as if she’s considering something heavier than a child her age should. “i think she still misses my real dad.”

satoru stops breathing.

his chest tightens, a sharp, unbearable squeeze, as if his ribs have turned into a vice, crushing him from the inside out. the world around him dulls, the chatter of passing shoppers fading into static, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing like a swarm of unseen locusts. the air in his lungs turns thick and heavy, refusing to move—because everything, everything, is falling into place so fast he can barely keep up.

the kid stationeries you were browsing, the set of pastel pens you picked up only to set them back down, like you were debating whether to buy them. the pink, glittery backpack in her hands, the same shade of obnoxious bubblegum pink he once claimed to hate, but now realizes he would buy in a heartbeat, no questions asked. the way she looks just like him—the sharp slant of her nose, the high curve of her cheekbones, the impossibly bright blue eyes that reflect his own like a taunt. even the way she stands, weight shifted slightly to one hip, tiny hands confidently gripping the straps of the backpack—like she already owns the space she stands in, like the world itself is just a little too small for her.

holy shit.

“anyway.” she huffs, as if he’s the one wasting her time, her small mouth curving into a pout of mild exasperation. she adjusts the straps of the backpack in her arms, shifting its weight against her chest, fingers drumming impatiently against the sequined fabric. she tilts her chin up ever so slightly, radiating a confidence that shouldn't belong to someone so tiny. “it’s on friday, 9:00 a.m., at kikyo kindergarten.”

he blinks, the words sluggish as they filter through his brain, like a broken radio signal cutting in and out. “what?”

“the event, duh.” she frowns, unimpressed, tilting her head with all the attitude of someone who cannot believe they have to repeat themselves. her lips press into a thin line, tiny shoulders rising as she takes a slow breath, like she’s summoning every ounce of patience she has to deal with an absolute idiot. “weren’t you listening?”

his mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, but nothing coherent comes out. “uh—”

“you better be there.” she declares, arms crossing over her chest, voice firm and unwavering, the kind of voice that does not take no for an answer. her stance shifts as she leans in closer, an almost imperceptible movement, but one that carries all the weight of an unspoken challenge—daring him to refuse, daring him to disappoint her. there is something unreadable in her gaze, something old and knowing, something far too perceptive for a child her age. “or else.”

his pulse jumps. “…or else?”

she meets his gaze head-on, unflinching, as if she already knows she has him backed into a corner. her small fingers tap against her arm, considering, calculating—then, her lips curl into a smile that is nothing short of mischievous.

“or else, i’ll tell mommy you tried to kidnap me.”

his soul leaves his body. “WHAT—”

“bye now!” she beams, the picture of innocence, her entire face transforming in real time, as if she didn’t just completely dismantle his entire world in the span of a conversation.

in real time, satoru watches his own child scam him.

his tiny daughter—his menace of a child—spins on her heel, dropping the entire conversation like it never happened. she prances away, light on her feet, twirling slightly as she rounds the aisle you disappeared into, her little frame swallowed by the shelves.

her voice, when she speaks, is a melody, high and sweet and utterly deceiving. “mommy! look! this is the backpack i want!”

satoru can only stay there. staring.

his breath is shallow, like his lungs have forgotten how to function, like his entire body is refusing to move, to react, to process what just happened. the world feels too sharp, too clear, yet somehow far away, like he’s watching himself from outside his own skin. the fluorescent lights above hum too loudly, the colors of the store seem too vivid, and the ground beneath his feet feels like it's seconds away from giving out.

his daughter just found him before he ever found her.

his hands feel cold. his mouth is dry. his brain, usually a relentless, unyielding machine, capable of dissecting complex battle strategies in seconds, is blank. utterly, hopelessly blank.

she’s real. she exists. she is his.

and she just walked away like it was nothing. like she didn’t just turn his world upside down. like she didn’t just unknowingly rip open a part of him that he didn’t even realize had been closed off.

satoru exhales, slow and shaky, dragging a hand down his face. it doesn’t help. he blinks rapidly, trying to reboot his system, but all he can hear is the echo of her tiny voice—matter-of-fact, unimpressed, brimming with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what she was doing.

he comes to terms with something horrifying.

his menace of a child just blackmailed him. she didn’t ask. she demanded. she set her terms, delivered her threat, and walked away like a goddamn professional.

the absolute audacity.

the sheer talent.

his chest swells, something warm and bright bubbling beneath the overwhelming shock. his lips twitch, his vision goes a little blurry, and then—a slow, unhinged grin spreads across his face.

he has never been more proud.

“holy shit,” he breathes, blinking rapidly, his pulse still hammering in his ears. then, after a long moment of processing the absolute scam he just walked into, he straightens, grips the nearest shelf for support, and mutters under his breath;

“she so gets that from me.”

a/n: any normal person would be horrified finding out they missed out years in their child's life but he's not any normal person sigh he's so silly

tag list: @akeisryna , @funicidals

comment to be added on the tag list xx

what happens in vegas | series masterlist

satoru gojo x fem!reader

౨ৎ after a messy breakup, you go to vegas with your best friend, shoko, to forget about everything. a night of partying and drinking, you wake up in a hotel room with a stranger in your bed and a ring on your finger, with zero idea what happened. that stranger? satoru gojo—some guy you barely know. turns out, you two might’ve gotten married. now you’ve got to figure out what to do with this mess.

౨ৎ warning/tags: fluff, romance, jealousy, no smut (im sorry), sexual references, enemies to lovers, asshole gojo, some angst, use of alcohol, inspired by what happens in vegas.

note: i am so proud of this one can’t wait to start writing! tag list is also open <3

ch.1 | coming soon…

ch.2 | TBC

ch.3 | TBC

Gojo who...

—comes back from a mission only to get spoiled rotten by you, and it only makes him fall deeper in love with you.

He’d come home at a random 2:43 in the afternoon. Opening the door with a tired grunt, before dropping everything in the living room and making a bee line for the bedroom.

Gojo stood in the doorway for a few seconds, watching as you organized all the shit on your dresser for the nth time since Gojo had left.

He just groaned and wrapped his arms around you from behind. Exhausted. His infinity down and his body completely melted against yours, almost as if trying to mold into you.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your neck, inhaling your scent— your scent that he hadn’t had around him for an entire seven and a half days. “missed you so much, pretty.”

You smiled, leaning against him. Your hands overlapped the tops of his as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Welcome home, handsome.” Tilting your face to the side, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

Slowly, and reluctantly letting go, Gojo finally pulled away and immediately began to strip his clothes off. His back was tense, rigid with knots. “Baby?”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Because once he was just in a pair of grey sweats, and laid stomach down on the bed, you were climbing up with him.

Standing on the bed, you used the wall to help balance as you stepped onto Gojo’s back. You took little steps up and down his back, smiling and giggling when he’d groan like one of those Great Danes relaxing.

And by the time you finished walking on his back, you were quick to move to the bathroom to run him a bath. You wanted to spoil your boyfriend after his week long mission, and by golly you would do just that.

Running the water till it was steaming, you stopped up the drain so the water would stay in the tub before getting your tired lover.

“Toru, come on. A bath will feel good,” he knew you were right. You always were, but damn he just wanted to sleep. However, he let you tug him off the bed and guide him into the bathroom. Wear he slowly sunk into the hot water, hissing at the initial burn before sighing in relief as his body relaxed. All the tension leaving his body, as the scent of lavender epson salt and a vanilla cupcake candle lighting up in the corner— his favorite Yankee candle scent.

And to add onto the billion reasons he’s head over heels for you— your hands immediately begin to gently massage his scalp. Your nails raking from his hair line to the back of his head. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back against your touch. “Love you so fucking much.” He mumbled, he couldn’t be more content and loved.

You smiled and leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead. “Love you more. Now just relax and let me take care of you.”

Your pampering of him didn’t stop there. No no, you would be spoiling him rotten. Because not only did you bath him, wash his hair, and do his skin care for him, but you fixed him dinner, AND gave him those little chocolates he said he wanted before he’d left for the mission.

“I’m going to impregnate you and lock you away so your mine forever.” Gojo mumbled as he tiredly ate the chocolates, a happy, dopey smile on his lips.

“I’m sure you’d try.” You snort, a grin taking on your lips as you push his back with your fingers.

“Mm…” Gojo just hummed in delight. “When you were cooking, I called and said I’d be m.i.a for a few weeks.” Gojo blurted out, your nails on his scalp were his biggest weakness.

Your grin stretched to an ecstatic smile, “wait really?”

“Yeah, so that means I’ll have you all to myself.” Gojo opened his eyes again, locking them with yours as his smile turned to a shit eating grin. “Your mine ‘n mine alone for the next three and a half weeks. Better get ready, pretty.”

me when a bad bitch tells me to do something

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Satoru Gojo Oneshots ˚୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Drabbles Masterlist for oneshots under 5k are HERE

I wanna be Yours - Explicit- 5.3k wc -Satoru Gojo has been your best friend since middle school, you've been in love with him that long, but he is clueless! Can you all stay just friends??- friends to lovers smut

Forgive me for I have Sinned - Explicit- 5.7k wc- You keep having dreams about Father Gojo, and he decides to try to save your slutty soul! Freaky ass Priest gojo- sacriligeous af, meant for sinners <3

Duvet Days and Vanilla Ice cream - Explicit- 15k wc Satoru has tried five different times over the years to tell you he loves you, but the words just never came out right, and you would never believe it. Cute/sexy and emotional Christmas fic- 5+1

You Got me thinking Nonsense- Explicit- 11.5k wc You're Suguru's lil sis, which means you've dealt with both him and his best friend Satoru Gojo being overprotective little shits for most your life. You've also been in love with Satoru Gojo that long. Will he see you as anything more? - smutty/fun (pt 2 coming soon)

Do I wanna Know? - explicit- 9k wc Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Is he a Stalker!? Yandere, heavy smut, read the warnings

I'll look After You - 10.6 wc-NSFW- You longed to hear from Satoru, After an epic night hooking up in a club bathroom, sure you'd been strangers, but he has your number, he made you feel so special... but... he never contacts you again. Ten months later, you have a beautiful baby named Reign, with those exact blue eyes- FLUFFY.

navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! the mha EP!

── .✦ "STUBBORN HEART" ─ Bakugo Katsuki

for some reason i was beefing with mha (dont ask me even i dk why) but we made up sooo here is a lil bakugo content (i missed u boom boom boy) content : one shot. fluff. bakugo being in denial. 658 words

Katsuki Bakugo prided himself on his unshakeable concentration and determination. Feelings were a distraction, a disturbance that had no place in his life while he strived to be the best hero. Yet lately, he was thinking about you for no reason at all.

It began innocently enough—a little joint training here, a mission there. But soon enough, he grew aware of the faint catch in his breath when you laughed, the involuntary tightening of his fists when others stood too close. He brushed these aside as minor irritations, attributing them to anything but the feelings growing that he would not admit.

"Dammit," he growled under his breath, closing his locker perhaps a bit harder than strictly necessary. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

His internal struggle did not go unnoticed. Kirishima, ever the perceptive friend, lifted an eyebrow as he approached. "Yo, Bakugo. You alright? You've been kinda tense lately."

"Mind your own business, Shitty Hair," Bakugo responded, the ends of his ears tinting a light pink. "I'm fine."

But our poor boy wasn't okay. Each encounter with you made him increasingly flustered, increasingly disturbed. He caught himself analyzing each word you'd say, each look you'd give him. Were you being nice? Or was something else going on? Not knowing ate at him, feeding his annoyance.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, he spotted you giggling with Kaminari. A sharp, unwelcome pang of jealousy stabbed him in the chest. His vision narrowed, and the next thing he knew, he was stalking over, his usual scowl darker than normal.

"Hey, Dunce Face," he bellowed, causing you and Kaminari to step back. "Can't you just leave people alone?"

Kaminari blinked, looking confused. "Uh, we were just talking, man."

"Go talk somewhere else," Bakugo growled, his eyes darting towards you briefly before he looked away. "Some of us need to focus."

You observed him, your eyes a blend of amusement and interest. "Alright, Bakugo?"

"I'm fine," he snarled, the lie evident to everyone but him. "Just. get out of my way."

As he stalked away, his mind reeled. Why should he care who you talked to? Why should it infuriate him so? The questions circled and circled, offering no solace.

He couldn't sleep that night. Whenever he tried to close his eyes, your face would pop up, and with it, that infuriating warm sensation in his chest. He snarled, pressing his face into his pillow. "This is stupid," he muttered. "I'm not some love-struck dumbass."

Yet denial could take him only so far. The more he struggled against it, the more powerful the feelings became, until finally he could no longer hold it in.

Backing you into the hallway after class, he took a deep breath, his normal confidence trembling. "Listen," he started, his voice rough. "I don't know how to say this without making myself sound like a damn idiot. I like you. Not in a friendly way. And it's driving me insane."

You blinked, taking in his words. "Bakugo."

"I'm no good at this kind of thing," he went on, staring immutably at the floor. "But I had to tell you. Do what you like with that information."

There was a pause between you, then you edged closer, reaching up to tip his chin up so his eyes met yours. "You're an idiot," you whispered, a smile pulling on your lips. "But I like you too." Relief flooded him, though he would never acknowledge it. "Good," he muttered, a small, real smile cracking his habitual scowl. "About time."

 In that instant, Bakugo Katsuki realized that maybe, just maybe, letting someone into his stubborn heart wasn't as terrifying as he thought.

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

TAGLIST (OPEN) @cherrysurf

navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! the mha EP!

"RIGHT WHERE I LEFT IT" — Bakugo Katsuki

a/n : OK OK just think ab Bakugo with a tattoo of his wife’s lipstick stain? this might be my fav work atp content : fluff. kiss kiss kiss. secret marriage. pro hero bakugo. bakusquad freaking out. 1k words.

Bakugo doesn’t come home quietly, he never has.

The door closes harder than necessary, not slammed, but firm—final. The kind of shut that says he’s done with people, cameras, lights, and noise. You hear the usual rhythm of him dropping his keys, kicking off his shoes, muttering something low under his breath as he moves through the apartment. He doesn’t come straight to you. First, he changes, washes off the evening and leaves the night behind.

You’re already lying in bed when he finally comes in. The light is soft, not too dim. The bedroom quiet in the way you both like it. You’re stretched out on the covers in one of your nightdresses—simple, mid-thigh, familiar. Something you didn’t think twice about putting on. When you glance up and see him standing there, cleaned up and still carrying the weight of the night across his shoulders, you don’t say a word. You just open your arms.

He doesn’t hesitate. Crosses the room and sinks onto the bed like he’s been walking toward you all day. He fits into you without effort, head tucked near your collarbone, hand on your waist, body relaxing piece by piece as he lets the noise fall away. You hold him quietly, running your fingers through his hair.

“Long night?” you mumble, running your hand on his large, glorious back. “Fuckin’ nightmare,” he mutters, voice heavy against your skin.

“You left your collar open.”

He groans under his breath. “Didn’t realize it was that low.”

“They saw it.” you tease him.

“Yeah, they wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it.”

You press your lips to his neck—soft, warm, familiar. He exhales through his nose, shoulders loosening just a little. You kiss the spot again. Just below his jaw. Then again. And again. Each one slow, thoughtless, part of you. Over the tattoo. Over where it began.

You’ve been kissing him there since U.A.

Back then, it was new for both of you, despite being well into your third year. That was the first time you both really let someone in. It wasn’t a fling—both of you had tried that with other people before, but nothing had ever stuck. Not for him. Not for you.

You never talked about it much. Not with the others. It was your first serious relationship. His too. You kissed him there before every mission, every big test, and sometimes just because it felt right. He used to roll his eyes at you, muttering that it was dumb—but he never pulled away. Never told you to stop.

No one knew, really. Just Kirishima, and Deku. They were the only ones who ever saw through the both of you. You and Bakugo didn’t broadcast it. You didn’t need to. You found your rhythm in empty hallways and quiet dorm rooms, the days between training sessions when no one else was looking. When he’d get too stubborn to admit he needed a break, you’d pull him into a corner, press your lips to that spot, and he’d sigh like you’d taken the weight of the world off his shoulders.

Back then, it was just you two.

Tonight, it’s not a secret. Everyone saw it. The tattoo. The kiss. Japan exploded over the fact that Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight had a lipstick stain tattoo on his neck. They speculated. They made guesses. They screamed about the mystery woman who had permanently marked him.

You’re smiling softly to yourself when the video comes through—Kirishima’s message, the one from the event, the one where Bakugo is surrounded by the squad, the camera flashes going off, and Mina is practically yelling at him.

“BAKUGO, TELL ME WHO KISSED YOU—WHO KISSED YOU AND WHY THE HELL IS IT TATTOOED??”

Kaminari is screeching behind her. “DID YOU JUST TATTOO SOMEONE’S LIPS ON YOUR NECK?! WHO ARE YOU HIDING???”

Sero’s already holding up his phone, looking like he’s trying to figure out if he’s witnessing a crime. “Dude, WHO is she? This is next-level.”

You even notice Todoroki standing in the back, looking at Bakugo curiously also wondering about his tattoo. And Kirishima, standing off to the side, is grinning from ear to ear, like the smug bastard he is, knowing full well what’s really going on. Then he texts you,

guess your soft launch is on 😌

You can’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head as you set the phone down. When you look back at Bakugo, his eyes are half-lidded. His fingers are still tracing the hem of your nightdress, and you know he’s trying to let go of the tension from the evening.

You lean in and kiss the tattoo, just below his ear, where it’s always been.

“Let them guess,” he whispers. He exhales, pulling you closer, his lips pecking your lips. “They won’t figure it out,” you says, voice laced with amusment.

“Good,” he agrees, “They never will.”

The kiss on his neck is more than a mark. It’s the secret only you’ve ever shared. It’s your couple's trademark, something that will always be yours.

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

TAGLIST (OPEN). / @ayatakanosstuff @arwawawa2 @itsmeaudrieee @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i @andysteve1311

The fastest sexiest pizza in Tokyo

Damn, Tiger Pizza doesn't just make yummy pizza. They also send yummy delivery boys nowadays! Too bad that you seem to have lost your wallet and can't pay for your order. Or is it? Maybe finding alternative ways of payment isn't that bad when your delivery boy is such a snack himself!

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut, fluff Word Count: 4k Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex with a stranger, oral, cumshot, cumeating, hair pulling, vaginal penetration, eating pizza while fucking lol. This is just a stupid and cheesy smut fest that makes me want to order at Tiger Pizza every day! All characters are of age. This story is 18+, minors don't interact.

This is my contribution to the XXX hub collab. I picked the trope delivery boy, obviously! Thank you so much to @novaresque and @manjiken for hosting this amazing collab! I had so much fun with this!

You pull the door open and are greeted by pastel pink hair and a dazzling smile.

"Hey, thank you for ordering at Tiger Pizza! The fastest pizza in Tokyo!"

You blink several times, staring dazedly at the guy in front of you. Why is your pizza delivery boy so hot?

He must be new. You have never seen him before. You would definitely remember that cute smile and the golden eyes and cotton candy pink hair peeking out under his red Tiger Pizza baseball cap. Your gaze wanders downwards. And those biceps! You would definitely remember those too!

Damn, Tiger Pizza doesn't just make yummy pizza. They also send yummy delivery boys nowadays!

You give him a warm smile,

"Wow, thank you for the fast delivery! Let me grab my wallet!"

And suddenly, the horror crashes over you. Oh shit! The small bowl on top of your shoe cupboard where you usually put your wallet is empty!

"Would you mind waiting a moment? Or, just come in, I guess! I have to search for my wallet real quick, sorry."

"Sure, no problem. Where is your kitchen? I'll just put the food there."

You lead Tiger Pizza boy to your kitchen, looking for your wallet on the way where. But to your dismay, it is nowhere to be found. Not in your bag, not on the couch table, not on the kitchen counter.

"Um...this is embarrassing, but I don't have any money."

Hot delivery boy's bright smile falters a little bit, and he raises his eyebrows.

"Huh?"

You begin to sweat.

"I'm so sorry! I must have lost my wallet. What..what do we do now?"

Tiger Pizza boy stops smiling and instead scratches his cute pink hair.

"Well, I can't go back without the money, or the books won't add up."

His honey eyes look at you with the biggest puppy dog look you have ever seen on a human being. Gosh, is he pouting? He looks so fucking cute!

He puts the pizza and salad box down on your kitchen table and shoves his large tan hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, rummaging around until he pulls a few banknotes out triumphantly. The smile is back on his face.

"Ok, looks like I can pay for your order!"

Now you feel even worse. As a pizza delivery boy, he definitely doesn't earn a lot. He's probably a poor college student who's struggling with rent and stuff, and now he has to pay for your mistake!

"No! I don't want you to waste your money on me! You know what, I'll come over to your restaurant tomorrow and bring you the money!"

"No, forget it. It's ok, really. It's on the house!"

You shake your head

"No! I feel so bad! I will definitely give you the money!"

You reach out instinctively, wanting to offer reassurance and rub his arm. Your hand lands on his biceps. Fuck, it really feels just as amazing as you imagined it would.

You should probably pull your hand away again, but you can't bring yourself to do so. You're standing right in front of hot delivery boy now, and up close, he's even sexier.

Taller than you with broad shoulders and an athletic build. Tan skin, a cute smile, pretty honey-colored eyes. He has several scars on his face, but they don't mar his prettiness at all. Instead, they make him look even more handsome somehow, a bit rougher than the sweet smile and boyish attitude let on.

Your hand is still clutching his biceps, so you feel the firm muscles flex, and it feels so delicious. A wave of desire washes over you.

You must be crazy. Maybe it's the fact that you're blood sugar is low at the moment, or maybe the delivery boy is just too sexy for his own good. Regardless of what it is, you suddenly catch yourself blurting out:

"Or is there another way to pay you?"

The way you cock your head and look up at him through your lashes with a sultry look leaves no way for speculation about what you mean. And just to make sure, you also run your finger over his biceps in a seductive way, tracing his muscles gently.

Understanding flickers over his handsome face, and he grins and nods excitedly.

"Oh! That's really sweet of you. Yeah, you can do that..."

He leans against the kitchen table, putting his fit body on display, biceps flexing so deliciously, his defined pecs and abs visible under the tight shirt he's wearing. You never salivated that much about a guy you just met. Even his voice turns you on, smooth and sweet like honey:

"So, how do we go about this? What did you have in mind, sweetie?"

He pulls the baseball cap off his head, revealing even more pastel pink hair. It's ruffled from the cap, looking so soft and pretty that you can't help but lean closer to him and run a hand through the fine pink strands.

It brings you so close to sexy Tiger Pizza boy that he can easily wrap his strong arms around you. And God, those arms feel good!

He pulls you against him, and you yelp softly as you stumble into him. Your hands instinctively come up to brace yourself against his pecs. This must be some dream! Because somehow, this whole situation seems like straight out of some porn.

You have never felt toned pecs like those beneath your fingers. You can't resist the temptation and grab them, digging your nails gently into the taut buff flesh. Hot delivery boy makes a cute sound in return.

You find your voice again too and lift your head to grin at him,

"How about I do things for you that make you happy, and you tell me when I've paid off my debt."

"You're really smart! Sounds like we have a deal. It's nice of you that you want to make me feel good, cutie. I'm such a lucky guy!"

His voice is husky, one large hand cupping your chin and thumb tracing your bottom lip slowly.

Your heart is fluttering wildly in your chest, and your pussy throbs with hot needy arousal. You've never done this before: Just have sex with a random guy out of the blue. But it's so hot, and you want him so bad!

"What would make you happy enough to pay for the salad?"

You ask before closing your lips around his thumb and slowly sucking on it while you look up into his pretty golden eyes.

"Ah fuck... hmm, do that again, but not with my thumb but with my dick."

His words make you moan in excitement. You're really gonna do this! You're gonna suck off this sexy stranger and maybe get laid by him!

You let his thumb slip out of your mouth and take a step back. Hot delivery boy uses that chance to swiftly pull his shirt off and let it fall on the floor, smiling at you in that attractive boyish way that is far too cute and sexy at the same time.

What do these Tiger Pizza people think sending someone like this to deliver their food? It should be illegal!

You let your hungry gaze travel over him. He's a sight for sore eyes. Tall and buff, tan skin looking so smooth and lickable, toned muscles everywhere, thick biceps, delicious titties with pretty nipples, and defined abs that are to die for.

Your gaze travels further down, over the mouth-watering v-line and to the bulge in his pants. His grey sweatpants are already tented in the front, doing nothing to hide how hung he is.

You get pulled out of your drooling by his laugh.

"You gonna undress me, cutie? Or do ya want me to help? Come here, I'll help you. Don't be shy, sweetie."

His big hands take yours and place them on the hem of his sweatpants. But that's all the help you need. You won't wait for a second longer to see more of this total snack in front of you. You hook your fingers in his pants and the boxers beneath and pull both down at the same time.

Your mouth falls open in a silent O. Oh fuck, he is impressive!

His fat cock slaps against his firm abs with a delicious thud. Sitting there against those fine taut abs, fully erect, thick, and long, with a pretty dark pink tip that is oozing pearly pre-cum, which sticks to his tan abs.

Maybe you were wrong. He isn't just a snack. This fine man is a full course meal!

You are on your knees before he can even reach out for you, so eager to get his gorgeous meat into your mouth.

His toned thighs feel so fucking nice under your hands, warm skin, and firm muscles, which tighten when you lean closer and blow air over the swollen dark pink mushroom head. His pretty cock twitches, begging you to suck it.

Sexy delivery boy makes another cute sound. A soft whine, breathless and needy.

"Ah! Fuck, yeah, baby, take it in your mouth and earn your salad. Will you do that for me, please?"

He doesn't have to tell you twice. Your mouth is already on him, engulfing his thick tip with your lips and looking up at him as you suck on him for the first time, tasting his heady and sweet pre-cum on your tongue.

His mouth opens in a low moan, and his strong hands tangle in your hair, grabbing it tightly. It's all the encouragement you need. You moan softly as you take him deeper into your mouth, watching him through your lashes as you bop your mouth on his gorgeous thick cock.

He fills your mouth so wholly. Such a big boy! Tiger Pizza really didn't lie when they advertised to have XXL portions now too. For the big hunger.

Oh yes, you are very hungry. Starved actually! For pizza and for this yummy delivery boy's gorgeous cock!

You can't help but hum and moan around him, so turned on by his cute moans and his strong hands tugging on your hair, getting so desperate for you. He's such a cute one!

You play with his swollen tip, taking your sweet time, kissing the pre-cum off it, licking it lightly, and teasing his slit with the tip of your tongue, asking him to give you more of his intoxicating taste.

And he does. His dick is so eager! Pre-cum keeps trickling out of his cockhead, so much that you can already tell he's a nut-a-lot-boy. Not just good at delivering pizza but also good at delivering big loads of another kind.

"Ah... fuck...feels so good! That salad is already paid for!"

He looks so pretty with his flushed cheeks and mouth hanging open dumbly, his honey eyes boring into yours with such a needy look in them that it makes your pussy throb with want.

You absolutely need this sexy delivery boy in you! You really hope he won't leave after the blow job!

His hands tighten in your hair, and he pulls on it. He pulls your head down onto his cock, rolling his hips and fucking your mouth with deep needy thrusts, catching you by surprise. But damn, you aren't complaining!

His moans turn into breathless whimpers and little mewls, and if that isn't the sweetest and hottest thing you ever heard, you don't know what is!

You can tell he's about to bust by the way his muscular thighs are shaking beneath your hands. You moan around his fat cock, eagerly awaiting his big load. But sexy delivery boy has another plan.

"I wanna nut over your pretty face! Let me cum on your face, and you'll earn the salad dressing too! Please!"

You can just make some unintelligible sound in the back of your throat, but he's already pulling out, and you groan at the loss of his thick cock inside your mouth. But only for a moment because the sight in front of you is too good to stay upset.

Tiger Pizza boy wraps a strong tan hand around his gorgeous cock and pumps it with firm, fast strokes as his moans become louder and more high-pitched, and then he yanks on your hair and pulls your face right in front of that pretty cock.

A moment later, thick warm cum hits your face in several spurts. Belatedly you open your mouth to at least get some of it on your tongue. A moan escapes your mouth as you swallow his thick milky cum and lick your lips to scoop up more of the sticky mess he made on your face.

Sexy delivery boy sighs, and another sweet smile spreads over his face as he looks down at you.

"Fuck, you look pretty. And so messy... let me help you with that."

He pulls you up and licks your face clean, hungrily lapping up his own cum. Your brain isn't functioning anymore. The only thing your mind can come up with is a silent chant of, "Thank you, Tiger Pizza! Thank you for sending me the delivery boy straight out of my dirty fantasies!"

Your dream Tiger Pizza boy is finished collecting all his cum on his tongue, and now his large hand cups your chin, and then he kisses you.

You moan in surprise and desire, obediently opening your mouth as his tongue pushes against it. He licks into your mouth eagerly, feeding his cum to you. And you take all of it happily, moaning as you lick it all off his velvety tongue.

"Hmm, you like that? I'll tell you a secret: This tastes way better than any of the salad dressings we have on our menu."

You can't help but chuckle even as you chase after his lips and tongue, stealing another heated kiss from him. How can he make you so wet and horny while also making you laugh in genuine amusement? This boy is dangerous!

The short stolen kisses turn into an entire makeout session, with his strong arms wrapped around you and his sweet tongue fucking your mouth just like his cock fucked it only a few minutes ago.

You can already feel him growing hard again where his big cock is trapped between your bodies. A relieved smile tugs at your lips. So you will probably get lucky and get more of your sexy Tiger Pizza boy, hm?

As if he was reading your thoughts, his lips wander from your mouth to your neck. Finally, you hear his hoarse voice whisper:

"Ok, you earned the salad and the dressing now. Let's fuck on the table, and you'll earn the rest of the meal."

And with that being said, hot delivery boy kicks off his sweatpants and boxers, which were pooling around his ankles, and hoists himself up on the kitchen table. He almost knocks the pizza and salad boxes down but catches them with a laugh and pushes them to the side so he can lay down.

He looks so gorgeous, laid out there for you, bracing himself on his elbows, making his biceps and abs flex so beautifully. And that cheeky grin on his handsome face is driving you crazy too!

"Did you ever ride a tiger before?"

He's so stupid but so sexy! Your legs are shaking as you get undressed. It's embarrassing how wet you are for the sexy tiger on your kitchen table.

You climb on top of him, straddling his lap, gasping when his strong hands land on your thighs and caress them gently. He has a tattoo, you realize. Two thin black lines circle his right thumb, and it somehow makes your pussy throb even more for him.

Your hands land on his toned pecs again. Fuck! His body is so yummy-looking and feels so good beneath your touch. You're beginning to suspect that sexy delivery boy is the best food Tiger Pizza has to offer.

"Gonna earn my pizza now, tiger-boy."

"Yeah, you better hurry up before it gets cold."

You wrap a hand around his thick base, pumping his cock a few times, making him gasp softly. He is sweet, helping you onto his thick cock. Strong hands grab your hips and lift you onto him.

His strength makes you moan needily as he guides you on his thick tip. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel him stretch you open. God, he's such a big boy. It's so fucking good!

You can't help but gasp as you sink down on him, taking all of him into your creamy pussy. He fills you up so completely, stretching you open in the most pleasurable way.

And when you slowly lift your hips and then let yourself fall down again, it gets even better. His cock is so perfect inside you. It doesn't take any convincing for you to ride him eagerly, bouncing on his thick hard length, always guided by his large warm hands, which are exploring your body, wandering from your thighs to your ass, and kneading it firmly between his strong fingers.

You can't believe a simple order at your usual pizza place led to this: You having a sexy delivery boy between your thighs, riding him on the kitchen table in between the pizza and salad boxes he delivered. You don't want this to end.

"I earned the pizza already, right?"

Your sexy Tiger Pizza boy nods as he looks up at you with heavy-lidded honey eyes,

"You earned half of it. You can take a slice if you like."

You stop bouncing on his thick cock and lean over him to open the pizza box that's lying next to his head. The movement causes your tits to press against his face.

And hot delivery boy moans and turns his face into your tits, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on them, tongue flicking over your nipples hungrily. Your pussy is throbbing around his thick tip anytime his lips close around your nipples to suck on them. He's such a good boy, so sweet and loving!

Your hand closes around a slice of pizza, and you sit up again, gasping when your pussy slides down delivery boy's beautiful cock again.

That's gonna be a first, too: eating pizza while you have a cock inside you. His swollen tip is rubbing against your sweet spot, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

You take a bite of your pizza and chew it while slowly rocking on delivery boy's cock, rolling your eyes in pleasure,

"Mmhh, the pizza is so good! Almost as good as your cock feels, baby."

That earns you a mix between a chuckle and a moan from the sexy boy beneath you.

"Yeah? Give me a bite, too, please? I need strength so you can keep on playing with my dick since you like it so much."

You laugh softly. It's a breathless needy sound because he really feels so perfect in you and his words drive you crazy.

But you hold the pizza to his pink lips and feed him some of it as his hands tighten around your waist, and he starts to bounce you on his gorgeous cock again.

A needy sounding cry escapes your lips, followed by a row of moans and horny babbling:

"Ah! Oh... oh... fuck...Tiger Pizza is definitely my favorite!"

The pizza is forgotten, though, for the moment as your eyes close and your head lolls back as you let strong Tiger Pizza boy lift you up and down on his thick cock.

Loud moans fall from your mouth, and your fingernails dig sharply into his toned pecs as his tip is hammering against your sweet spot repeatedly, sending sparks of pure bliss through you.

You do your best to earn the other half of your pizza and ride him eagerly, clenching around his deliciously fat cock, reveling in the cute whines coming from sexy delivery boy.

Without warning, he lifts you up, pulling you off his cock with a desperate-sounding moan.

And then he presses his hard length snug against your slick pussy, and cums so prettily. Shooting his big load messily between you, over his abs and pecs. And over you too, over your stomach and most of it over your pussy. You moan loudly when it hits your clit, thick and hot.

He makes the cutest noises, high-pitched cries, and loud mewls and moans. He is so fucking gorgeous, so unashamed and sexy. His pretty face looks angelic when he bucks his hips and rubs his thick cock against you, riding out his orgasm. And fuck, he looks so good covered in his own cum!

You whine needily, struggling against his firm hold, craving more. Needing release too. Hot delivery boy opens his pretty eyes, and they meet yours, looking golden and wearing the cutest fucked out daze. A smile grazes his lips, and then he positively beams at you.

"Fuck! That was so good! Gotta take care of you too now, baby. Come here!"

He pulls you on his face, maneuvering your body so easily. And then his warm mouth hums against your wet needy pussy, and you can only gasp. He looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, and you see them rolling back as if he's tasting his favorite treat in the whole world.

"Mmmh, some sweet dessert for me."

Your legs tremble heavily as his sweet tongue fucks into you, going so deep. And those soft lips find your clit, shower it with so many kisses before sucking on it gently.

God, he knows what he's doing. Pizza delivery boy is a fucking pro at this!

What he's doing to you feels almost too good. You are a quivering needy mess for him, trembling and moaning and gasping loudly. Your knees go so weak, but his strong hands hold you safely in place.

Those hands also prevent you from pulling away when the sensation of his sweet mouth becomes so intense that you almost can't take it anymore. He keeps you in place, pulls you back down on his mouth, and continues to make love to your pussy.

He holds you there until he licks and kisses a world-shattering orgasm out of you. One of those screaming-and-jerking-uncontrollably-orgasms, as your cream gushes over his pretty-boy face.

Your favorite delivery boy smiles up at you, looking so pleased as you slowly come down from the high he blessed you with. He's a real sweetheart and licks you clean, making your hips jerk lightly when his soft tongue glides over your overstimulated clit.

He helps you stand up afterwards and makes sure that your wobbly legs carry you before he cups your cheek and pulls you closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

"It's safe to say that you paid off your debt. Even gave me a generous tip, I would say. Tiger Pizza says thank you. And so do I."

You both laugh softly. You grab a kitchen towel and throw it at sexy delivery boy so he can clean himself up while you pick up your clothes from the kitchen floor and get dressed again.

You turn around in time to see him shrug into his shirt. To your surprise, there are more tattoos on his back. More black lines and a majestic-looking tiger in the middle.

You raise an eyebrow. Either someone is overly affiliated with his corporation, or he really loves tigers. For a moment, you wonder how a poor student can afford all those tattoos, and your next thought is, "Is he a Yakuza member?" But the idea is so ridiculous that you almost laugh out loud.

You accompany him to the door, and finally, it occurs to you to ask:

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Just ask for Yuuji next time you order something."

He grins at you and does a mock salute, winking cheekily,

"Thank you for ordering at Tiger Pizza! The fastest pizza in Tokyo!"

But before he leaves, he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek and adds softly:

"I hope our service was to your satisfaction. Don't forget to leave a review!"

It's a week later when you dial the Tiger Pizza number again.

You place your order. The same pizza and salad as last week, and before the guy on the other end of the line can hang up, you quickly add:

"Can Yuuji deliver that, maybe?"

There's a long stretch of silence at the other end of the line. And then comes a:

"What?"

"Um, Yuuji.. pink hair? Pretty buff?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, I know who you mean. But he doesn't do deliveries usually. Wait a moment..."

"Hey Boss, someone is asking for you to deliver an order. What do I say?"

Your eyes widen almost impossibly. Boss?? That little shit!!

You hear some muffled noises, and then a familiar cute voice reaches your ear:

"Hey, so you want pizza again?"

"What the fuck, Yuuji? You never said you own Tiger Pizza! I thought you were a poor student who needed the money and would get into trouble if he came back with empty hands! I was feeling so bad about you having to pay for me!"

"Oh that... yeah, well, I told you the order is on the house, but you didn't want to listen! I never said I am just the delivery boy, did I?"

He really didn't, you realize. And suddenly, loud laughter errupts out of your mouth, and on the other end of the line, Yuuji is laughing too.

He sounds so amused when he says:

"You really have no idea who I am, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I love that! How about I'll come over and deliver your order, and then I'll tell you more."

His voice drops to a low whisper, and he adds:

"Be naked when I get there, and you'll get a dessert on the house."

Thank you so much for reading! I loved this prompt! I was laughing and yearning at the same time while writing this! I hope you enjoyed it too! Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments make me happy!

Credit for the scene where reader feeds pizza to Yuuji while she rides him goes to @shameless-stan Thank you so much for giving me that amazingly sexy idea!!

The people who read my Yakuza!Sukuna AU might have noticed an easter egg. Yes, the Yuuji in this fic is actually "The young Tiger," Sukuna's younger brother from the Yakuza AU lol. Tiger Pizza serves as a money-laundering place. Yuuji just happened to be there when one of the delivery boys called in sick, so Yuuji decided to deliver an order himself. His bodyguard Megumi had a meltdown when he returned from the bathroom, and Yuuji was gone. He kept calling him and wondering why a simple delivery takes that long. Clearly, the slogan "Tiger Pizza, the fastest pizza in Tokyo" is a lie!! And reader has no idea that she fucked the Yakuza Prince. But I think Yuuji is about to tell her :)

Can i request best friend katsuki finds out we are dating shoto BUT he has had a crush on us since 1st year of ua (can we be in 2nd year in this?)

Absolutely love love LOVE your fics <33

a/n: oh holy shit a possible tension/angst fic? “everybody gotta die, including me” or wtv cory said because angst WRECKS me but yk what? HELL YEAH! also thank you soooo much for your love and support ! <3

let it happen

now playing: bad religion by Frank Ocean

fem reader is implied ! angst is the only warning 2nd year based so this is post war arc!

Katsuki may have never been the best with words, or displaying his emotions, or even identifying them as a matter of fact, but after the war he knew one thing for sure. He didn’t just like you- no.

He loved you.

Seeing his own classmates battered on the battlefield during the war did more on him mentally than he thought it would. but what really affected him the most was the bloodcurdling scream of his name you let out when his body hit the ground after shigaraki basically destroyed him.

he couldn’t even see anything. he couldn’t hear anything else; but he knew there was a lot of noise. but the last thing he remembered hearing was you. your scream of pure horror.

so if the whole war arc wasn’t already enough mental baggage, why did the universe decide to be so unfair and make his heart feel so much more heavier than it already is?

sure, katsuki pushed you away the first few months at UA, he did with everyone. he was only there to be a hero, didn’t want to mingle with people who he thought were below him. he didn’t think he had time for all of that.

keyword; was. not is.

because quickly, during katsuki’s time as a first year at UA he made friends with his classmates, even rebuilt his friendship with Izuku. but you? you had a mind of your own that you weren’t even aware about. you found a way to sliver into his heart, soften edges around him, and lighten his day a little bit without even noticing it.

but after eavesdropping on a conversation he had no business listening in on, katsuki is tempted the universe is just trying to give him karmic lesson after karmic lesson of some sort.

“but you and todoroki are so cute together!” uraraka, ever the supportive best friend she was, said with an adorable eager smile to you as you talk to her about you and todoroki.

he felt his heart drop to his stomach at those words and suddenly the popsicle he wanted was unappetizing. he started listening in further to your conversation with uraraka subtly from the common room kitchen; forcing himself to look busy before just straight up leaving since he felt the air clawing out of his throat with every passing gushing word you spoke.

your happiness mattered so much to him, but goddamnit he would be lying if he said he didn’t wish it was him you were gushing over instead of todoroki.

you were never his. and he was never yours.

and that fact pained him so terribly much, and affected him more than he wanted to. the one person he finally let his guard down around, opened up to, gone to someone else.

“kats?” your voice cut through his racing thoughts, where he sat on the dorm rooftop watching the sunset; this was your activity, your spot, where the two of you found a routine in debriefing your days while watching the sunset.

and god, katsuki couldn’t ignored you even if he wanted to. and he really and truly wanted to. but his heart spoke before his mind could and he turned towards you.

“yeah?” he replied with his usual softer gruff that he had when he was around you.

you made your way closer to katsuki, sitting beside him as you two usually would do before speaking again. “you’ve been.. distant as of recently. is everything okay?” you ask softly and carefully, not wanting to sound accusatory.

katsuki pulled his gaze away from you with a scoff under his breath. of course you would notice his behavioral changes, you always did. both of you did with each other’s moods.

“s nothin” katsuki replies to you with a head shake and a soft chuckle; the soft chuckle aimed at himself for how pathetic he feels like he’s being right now. “don’t worry about it”

“suki you know you don’t have to hi-“ you didn’t even get a chance to finish before katsuki cut you off.

“y/n.” katsuki starts firmly with a sigh before looking over at you. your soft beautiful features, and worried expression. you have a boyfriend, shoto todoroki even, why were you so worried about him?

“i’ll be fine. just give me time to get over myself” katsuki speaks softly, barely above a whisper. you’ve never seen him like this before, so distant and obviously mentally battling something.

you let his words simmer in the air for a moment, resting your head on his shoulder. katsuki mentally debates the want to push you away or get up and move away for the sake of his own sanity, his own stability, and maybe the hurt won’t be so bad anymore. but he doesn’t. he lets your head rest on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around your shoulder like he usually does. it felt so natural, so normal for him to do.

“i’m not going anywhere, and im here whenever your ready to talk” you spoke softly, looking out at the sunset in the distance as katsuki rests his head against yours.

he inhales softly “i know” he says. and lets himself believe it. that no matter what; your relationship status, or the uncomfortable and painful emptiness that only you could fill in him, that you aren’t going anywhere.

a/n: hiya! this ruined me so i had to end it on at least a sort of bright light. there might be a possible part 2 depending on what people think of this and if i get another ask/comment on how i should write it!

helloo i really like your write and i was thinking about Bakugou’s foreing gf from latin america, Brazil or another? And suddenly she says some expressions in her mother language like “katsuki, vem aqui!” (Katsuki, c’ mere) or even in text messages like “cadê você.” (where are u) and be gets so confused. And one day he randomly comes to reader and asks “could you say what the heck these thing means?” So reader explains some of them to him.

thanks!

having to explain your phrases to katsuki

in the common room, you were hanging out with some of the girls in one section, and the boys were separated in the other. they talked about their own interests as you talked about yours, engaging in gossip that mina heard from eijiro a couple of days ago. apparently, eijiro liked someone but was too scared to tell her, and kept it to himself until he eventually told mina.

when the girls found that out, they had the idea for you to ask katsuki because he and the redhead were best friends, even if he didn’t admit it. reluctantly, you agreed, but your boyfriend was amazing at keeping secrets. it was unlikely for him to tell you his best friend’s crush unless eijiro directly permitted him to.

so you shouted across the room, “katsuki, vem aquí!” and held your hands around your mouth.

the blonde immediately puckered up and turned his back from you to the boys in front of him. what the hell did you just say? he blankly stared at you until you made a ‘come here’ motion with your hands around, ushering him to get closer to you.

he sat on the couch next to you, where you sat criss-cross, then you laid your legs over his and placed your hand on his bicep, pulling him closer to you. he tried to hold back a smirk to no avail, and eventually gave up as you looked up at him with sweet eyes.

“hey, mina told me that eijiro likes someone. do you know who it is?” you asked, showing off a smile as the other girls giggled and watched the two of you talk.

he stayed silent for a minute before glancing away, then looking back at you. he leaned his face closer to yours and lowly spoke into your ear, “i know but i can’t tell anyone.”

once he pulled away, you whined and pouted, “katsukiiiii!”

you then leaned back and lightly kicked his thigh, when he gently grabbed your ankle and pulled you closer to him with ease. he whispered, “come to my room later and i’ll give you a few hints.”

a gasp left your mouth and you almost violently nodded, softly kicking your feet in excitement. he kissed your cheek then returned to his group, where he stayed quiet for most of the conversation.

but once the sky became dark, and your classmates began to yawn and even nod off, you decided it was time to go to bed. you didn’t see the blonde anywhere in the room, so you sent him a quick message.

katsuki lay on his bed, scrolling through his phone when he saw a text from you reading, ‘cadê você??????’ ‘katsukiiiii’ ‘answer me’ all within a couple of seconds. he scoffed, he didn’t even know what you meant by the first message. hopefully you would just follow him into your room once he picked you up. he grinned and laughed to himself before standing up and making his way to the common area, where he expected you to be.

after you waved to your friends goodbye, some of them still stayed in the common room, while others left to sleep, a warm hand suddenly engulfed yours. you rubbed the rough hand, quickly realizing it was katsuki’s. he dragged you to his room without a second thought and placed his hand on your back to guide you.

then you jumped onto your boyfriend’s soft bed and sprawled your limbs across it, you asked, “so, who does kirishima like?”

“you know her.” he stated, making your jaw drop.

“no fucking shit, katsuki! who the hell would he like that i don’t know of?!” you retorted, looking back at his muscular form and smirk on his face.

“that’s all you’re getting, whiny.” he took his shirt off and crawled into bed with you before asking, “what the hell were you even saying earlier?”

you turned to your lover and held eye contact before swinging your leg across his hip, “what d’ya mean?”

“you said it two times back in the lounge area then you texted me another one. the first one was… vem something, and,” he pulled his phone from out of his pocket and scrolled up in your chats, holding one of your messages, “this one.” it read cadê você.

you chuckled, “kats, i thought you already knew what those meant! you always did exactly what i told you to!” he had a scowl on his face and placed his hand on your stomach, trying to hide his face without seeming shy. “the first thing i said was vem aquí. i’ll confess, i got a bit agitated when you didn’t come over to me immediately.”

he guessed, “so it means ‘come here’?”

“oh, yes, good job, my boy!” you coddled him and placed his face in your hands, making him grunt and fake fight back, although he secretly loved it. of course, he would never admit it. “the second one means ‘where are you?’. that may have been a little more difficult for you though.”

he grumbled and turned his back to you, “whatever.”

you giggled and wrapped your arms and legs around him and stated, “eu te amo,” then grinned into his hair.

“what does that one mean?” he mumbled, sleep evident in his voice.

“it means i love you.”

he let out a small, “tch,” before turning back around and placing his face in the crook of your neck, trying to hide the blush that was forming on his face. he kissed your neck three times, his own way of saying, ‘i love you.’

this was super fun to make, i hope you like it! hope i got the last translation right, too! im so glad you like my writing btw ❤️

(slightly nsfw!)

nerd!jo who goes to the same uni as you and ever since he caught onto you, you’ve been on his mind. leaving him utterly captivated since your first semester, when he saw you on campus

nerd!jo who quickly realises you’re the kind of person who’s known around the facility. you belong to countless of clubs, take parts in multiple projects and you’re always surrounded by your friends. you’re popular. the complete opposite of him as he prefers to keep to himself and stay quiet

nerd!jo who later finds out you’re sharing a class with his best friend geto and who’s instantly met with a wave of mixed feelings. he keeps his little crush on you a secret. even from his best friend

nerd!jo who stumbles upon you talking to geto in the hallway and who’s pulled into the conversation by his friend, offered as a helping hand for your project’s calculations

nerd!jo who does indeed agree to help, however, he doesn’t know how to act so close to you. which paints him out to be pretty nonchalant

nerd!jo who starts to wear a certain colour more often after you compliment his sweater, telling him it makes his eyes stand out

nerd!jo who warms up to you over the time due to him helping you with the project and you popping by to greet him and his best friend, chatting them both up

nerd!jo who is soon falling head over heels for you. without even realising

nerd!jo who’s confused when you join his calculus class next semester, because he remembers you saying it wasn’t something you were keen to. and who’s shocked even further, when you claim the seat next to him

nerd!jo whose blood runs cold, when some other dude walks up to you after your shared calculus class and interrupts you two talking. only to ask you if you wanna get out and grab a coffee. he stood frozen still as his heart roared in his chest, knowing it wouldn’t be right to interfere

nerd!jo who nearly lets out a sigh of relief when you reject the offer. and who’s irritation skyrockets the moment the guy won’t take no as an answer

nerd!jo who steps in automatically without thinking, telling him you and him have a thing going on later in the evening. your eyes narrowed in surprise. truthfully, he surprised himself too

nerd!jo who keeps pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose whenever he’s around you. the nervous gesture not going unnoticed by you

nerd!jo who grows sad, when you begin to tag along with him and geto, assuming it was his best friend you were after as it was usually that way. not him

nerd!jo who’s taken back when you pull out a box filled with baked goods and offer him to try some before a lesson. and he wondered if you had remembered his sweet tooth

nerd!jo who is so painfully oblivious to your shameless attempts at flirting, thinking you’re just being nice

nerd!jo who thinks about jerking off to your instagram picture he’s so fond of, but never ends up doing cause it’s laud. but he thinks about it, way more than he should

nerd!jo who gets flustered and awkward whenever his best friend mentions you or anything concerning you two together

nerd!jo who overhears you talking about your crush to your friends. a crush. his heart breaks

nerd!jo who notices the way your eyes linger on his lips as he speaks about the equation you asked him to explain, nonetheless, he tells himself it’s nothing and he’s probably seeing things

nerd!jo who then proceeds to go completely still when he registers the feeling of your lips on his mid sentence

nerd!jo who blinks to adjust his vision after you pull away few seconds later and then fixes his glasses. only to be the one who crashes his lips onto yours this time

nerd!jo who leaves the library with a raging boner after you spent the entire time desperately making out and being handsy with each other instead of studying

nerd!jo whose heart almost gives out, when you confess you had your sights on him from the beginning as well, but you were too shy to approach since he looked so intimidating

nerd!jo who ends up being your boyfriend by the end of the same day

nerd!jo who can’t help but feel a course of confidence seizing him as he walks through the campus with you, hands interlocked

a/n: couldn’t and can’t stop thinking about nerdjo so thought i would share couple of my ideas;)

credits for dividers: [ @cafekitsune ]