xiaotopia

Latest Posts by xiaotopia

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, drugs, drama, family drama a/n: hi everyone! this is where you can find the masterlist, again aiming for at least 15 chapters.

chapter 1: a not so good day

chapter 2

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

Not your chosen one

"I do." No, you really didn't. And as he spatted the same words you knew that he was lying too.

Synopsis: Two Clans, only one goal. Have a Gojo heir and keep them in power. Satoru and you couldn't be more different. You two were raised completely different. While he is reaching for freedom, you can only hope to have a good prison.

Could your marriage ever be a success?

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Contains: strangers to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, angst to comfort

Status: ongoing

Author's note: I really don't know when this will be finished, I can be very inconsistent with my writing, so be warned! I try to keep my writing without any grammar mistakes but please have in mind, English isn't my first language!

Not your husband

Contains: arrangement between the clans about your marriage, origin of your marriage, Gojo is a bit of an asshole, traditional trauma

Not fulfilling meals

Contains: Gojo sucks at communicating, first meeting with the higher ups, talking about pregnancy and 'heir', first step towards each other

Not my honeymoon

Contains: the discussion of your honeymoon (who would have guessed?), little argument with Gojo, Gojo tries to be more approaching

Not alone

Contains: a nightmare, Satoru trying to be charismatic, fluff,

Not your letter

Contains: oh oh... Well not out yet.

More will be added...

Ongoing Taglist (I will try to add everyone here, as the series progresses, but I will still tag everyone on every part):

@zoeyflower @bubera974 @ssetsuka @lady-of-blossoms @peqch-pie

@karlaolea @slut-for-fictional-men @tnt-kokoo @gojoscumslut @sillyfreakfanparty

@tbzzluvr

@emi311 @the-number7 @o-ikawaii @doodle-cat16 @yozora7154

@levisfavoriteteashop @roscpctals99 @starlightglimmersworld @manyuyuu

@dahliawarner @aliisinwonderland @lov3vivian @inthedarkshadows000

@haikyuusimpsblog @sheismaryy @asahinasstuff @honeydew-cheesecake

@sanriosatoru @kimsrie @444na0m1 @humongousdreamlandbear

@elitesanjisimp @dummyf @elernity

@s4ikooo1 @roseyposeylemonsquozey @shitforbrainsmal

@mo0nforme @local-mr-frog @lovemiss-vale @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore

@holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @meowforluv @rirk-ke

@certainduckanchor @uknowimdumb @smolbeanzzz @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin

@bloopsstuff @rnriz

sincerely not | season one

↳ gojou satoru x f!reader

— series masterlist

summary. with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, arranged marriage, ceo au, 18+

word count. 213k

fic warnings. mean!gojo, VERY OOC, adultery/infidelity, profanity, explicit smut, violence, emotional trauma/physical abuse from past experiences, neglect, heavy family drama, illnesses, classism, pregnancy, undertones of masochism, undertones of manipulation, abandonment issues, overall toxic relationships, graphic depictions of self-harm, suicide/murder (and attempts thereof), minor character death, plot loosely based on twotm & tre. please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

fic art + playlist + gallery + faqs + ko-fi + misc + podcast feature

one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine + ten + eleven + twelve + thirteen + fourteen + fifteen + sixteen + seventeen + eighteen + nineteen + twenty (final) + sequel

status: completed

all rights reserved © 2021 saintobio. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

ʚɞ Gojo Satoru Fic Recommendations ʚɞ

Forever Yours

J’adore

Scars don’t fade

August

Sincerely Not

Sincerely Yours

Everyone’s Doll

Missed Connection

Confessions

Confidential

Violet Lights

Starboy

The Twist of a Knife

A Dangerous Game

Fate’s Gamble

All I Need

Baby Steps

Finite

Sensual Epiphany

Two Lines

Changes

Infidelity

The Fuck List

In Other Words, I Love You (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat)

Permanent Mark

Sundered

Kick Off

The Unfaithful

I Still Want You

Concern and Control

Symptoms and Causes

Untameable Waves (please come back)

𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

know it’s for the better. - g. suguru

pairing: geto suguru + reader, implied gojo satoru + reader

summary: but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

warnings: canon au, angst (please forgive me ily all), mentions of violence, vulgar language, crude humor, time-jumps, cameos from shoko, megumi, yuji, nobara :3 comfort.

word count: 16.8k

a/n: this fic has been my baby for a month, i’ve poured so much love into it. treat her well <333 loosely inspired by the songs “first love/late spring” by mitski and “waiting room” by phoebe bridgers. there are so many references to so many things in this :) some quotes that i will think about forever. hope you enjoy.

october, 2006.

“nine out of ten times.”

it’s the first sentence you say out loud after minutes of silence, and you’re given a puzzled look. it kinda makes you want to laugh, the confusion etched across his face so foreign that it’s rather intriguing. he’s golden, even under all the darkness. the world makes space for fallen angels.

“nine of ten times… what?”

you resist the urge to thumb that furrow in his brows, the creases looking wrong upon his soft features. you only smile, snuggling closer to him. either the room is magically colder, or suguru forgot to close the window. you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“that i would choose you.”

you’re slurring your words almost, but more from the plain laziness in your movements rather than from genuine exhaustion. suguru hums, fingers tapping along your arm. it may be around four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep.

the both of you hadn’t been able to for a while.

not since riko, not since toji, and definitely not since the new scar trailing across your stomach. shoko hadn’t been able to make the repair seamless.

you didn’t really mind. a lot of things seemed pointless nowadays.

“and the other time?”

your eyes linger on the strand of hair that always falls imperfectly on his face. a little crack in his flawlessness, though you’re not sure how grand that observation actually is.

you sit up a bit, propping your head with your arm as you look down at his pretty brown eyes. narrow, as they currently are, but still evidently alluring.

“well, i think it’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” you reason, voice soft. sometimes the dependency you had with suguru worried you. waves can crash, but the water itself remains. you think you’ll always be bound to him. his, forever. and yet you say, “i’d choose myself. just for a bit of sanity.”

it’s meant to be lighthearted, but the silence that falls afterwards kills any tone of playfulness that statement might have held.

you wish you had been a little more greedy.

•••

september, 2007.

emotions were complicated things.

it’s complicated to process the bullet you watch fly through a child’s head. it’s complicated to process your near-death experience. it’s complicated to process process the news of your classmate’s death. it’s complicated to process how it’s expected for you to go back to normal. it’s complicated to process everything.

so you curl up further, and hope that the news you’re hearing now is only a nightmare. because again, it’s too complicated to process.

“he killed them.”

and with the way satoru says it, repeats it, you think he wants you to sit up and hug him. be vulnerable, because god knows it’s been so long since you have.

but you lay there, back in the bed that you used to sometimes share with the criminal. the stillness makes satoru’s stomach drop, and he can’t will himself to say it again just for the chance of getting a reaction from you. but how much pain can a heart take? because it felt like yours might give out at any moment.

you didn’t sign up for this.

naively, no, you didn’t sign up for this.

“how many?”

you’re not sure why you ask. any number would have you spiraling, but with the silent refusal satoru gives by not replying immediately, you’re sure the answer would kill you alone.

he knows. he knows the exact number, he’d seen the report.

but he stares at your desolate form, eyes scanning the mess in your room. or, lack of. he hardly saw you get get out of bed these days if it weren’t for missions. the only sign of movement from you were the plushies that used to adorn your bed, now sprawled on the floor. for a second, he wonders if they’re gifted from who he thinks they’re from. but that thought feels stupid the moment he thinks of it, because - yes. of course they were. that man had loved you like his lungs naturally loved air. he loved freely, graceful in the way he cared. about satoru, about you. anyone, really.

so saturo makes a decision, hoping that it alleviates a little bit of the ache that he now concludes he will attempt to shield you from. because he cares about you too much to see you succumb to your own internal wounds. he wants you to be strong, like him. like suguru was. he can’t lose you too.

“i don’t know.” satoru lies, and he hopes that sentence can at least ease your heartbreak. but he feels it just as much. sorrowful, the kind of pain he’s been too familar with for a while now. he frowns when you don’t move.

obstruct from his view, your hands grip your sheets as tight as humanly possible, and you’re sure that you break skin through the fabric. you want to cry, but you can’t. not in front of satoru. not while he’s right there.

because this doesn’t affect you. you didn’t care.

so what? suguru had left you to the wolves. to fend for yourself. he became a monster. it didn’t bother you.

and you try to convince yourself to think the same when satoru sits beside you. you’re still thinking it as his shaking hand places itself on your side.

but you give up when he lays beside you, feeling his grief. and that pain only cements itself further as you begin to quietly sob months worth of misery.

you don’t feel much better after.

•••

march, 2008.

nine out of ten times, you’d like to be given the option to wipe your memory.

the other time would be the ability to travel to the past. it’s hard to decide which could be better, or arguably worse. maybe you could save haibara - tag along on that stupid mission and fight that stupid curse. switch places with him, even. the world seemed a lot duller without him in it. nanami spoke even less than he did before. you couldn’t keep up a conversation with him.

was it irrational to think that you might have been able to kill toji too? he just caught you on an off-day. you’re the reason he killed riko. it’s your fault that a child is dead.

there’s so much to be sad about, you’ve started to confuse those ugly feelings with plain normality. it’s natural to feel like this. you can’t really remember better days. they’ve blurred, causing twisted retroactive interference.

your rock had fled. any form of stability you had crumbled with the weight of your sorrow, and you’re forced to miserably pick yourself back up because you’ve never really been used to being alone. satoru wasn’t really around anymore, and shoko never left her studies. you certainly weren’t abandoned, but, unfortunately, you understood that grief couldn’t just halt time forever.

you’ve mourned so much, it feels silly to still have the same ache.

but how do you even move on? what’s the process like? because you’re almost certain you wouldn’t be able to survive it.

you’ve began to rid any remnants of him in your room; any proof of his existence. clothes, specifically, because they hold on to his scent, and you think if you stop for a moment to actually look at them you might break down again. you see memories in them. times where he’s worn the black t-shirts, or his white button-up. insignificant at first glance, but it’s your life you’re holding on to.

you stuff them into bags as quickly as you can.

if he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.

at least, not anymore than he already had.

you think it’s cruel that you’re stuck with a person’s presence even if they’re not physically there anymore. you’ll always associate this room with him. the world, at that.

and maybe it’s childish that your first response (after the sulking) is to trash his belongings, but you can’t think of anything more rational to do. the universe will move on without him. you can’t be left behind too.

when you’re finished, you’re not sure if the sight of five large trash bags and an emptier room makes you want to sob or hit something. it’s like life has lost it’s color - a new vision, duller than what was deemed humane. torturous.

yet you can’t bring yourself to pick them up and take them out of the room. you’re idle, staring at them like they’re just meant to disappear. you hadn’t realized how much your room consisted of just him.

trash, is what you’re unintentionally calling everything in them. but you don’t think that, never in a million years.

if it were up to you, you’d keep everything exactly where it was, and obliviously continue a cheery facade. but the thing about awareness is that after it’s discovered, you can’t really leave it. it’s branded into your mind, poking at your brain with a stick because it will annoyingly never have the intention to leave you alone.

it’ll sit with you in your darkest hours, and you’re unable to predict when light will shine through.

“dump them.”

you jump, defenses high on alert as you instinctively fall back. almost immediately after, you drop your hands, sighing.

shoko is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. you’re about to ask her how long she’s been standing there for, but her lingering gaze on your conflicting pile of issues answers your question before you have the chance to.

“i’ll do it for you.” she offers, finally looking up to meet your eyes. they’re a little sunken in, and she looks restless. it’s the first time you’ve seen her in nearly two weeks. she’s ditched the short hair since a few months back, the length sitting comfortably at her chest now.

you dumbly stare, non-respondent on purpose. you don’t want her to do that.

she seems to recognize the discomfort on your face at her suggestion, and you watch as her brows bitterly furrow, a small glare now directed at the bags. but you don’t get much emotion other than that.

“you can’t cling on to this shit. it’s unhealthy.” she softly explains, shaking her head. you wonder if that’s her medical opinion or genuine concern speaking, but you don’t ask her to elaborate. instead, you turn around, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

you kind of want her to leave.

“what’s healthy, then?” you retort, shrugging. it sounded a bit hypocritical coming from her. shoko had barricaded herself for the past six months, not even offering an ounce of genuine sympathy. in reality, you know it’s because she’s naturally avoidant. she didn’t crave support like you did. she didn’t need it like you had. because shoko has always been independent, never strung up on people. and you envy that more than anything.

“i don’t know.” she answers honestly, pursing her lips. but with one look around your room, and she’s certain it wasn’t this.

hesitantly, lets herself inside, eyes scanning the bareness. if it were any other day, she’d see suguru at your desk, or on your bed. he’d wave, and you would greet her with open arms. everyone knew the two of you were nearly inseparable (if it weren’t for satoru). the room always had a pleasant atmosphere when the two of you were in it. it feels cold and grim now, though. shoko has to fight a shiver.

you observe her, waiting for a joke or two. you’re nearly hoping, because any form of comedic relief had begun to be your craving. you needed an escape from all of this.

but instead, she turns back to you and wordlessly sits beside your tense form. it’s quiet for a bit.

there’s a charm that shines on the top of your desk, catching her eye. it dangles among other souvenirs, and shoko has to avert her eyes when she realizes that they’re all gifts from a certain deceased underclassman.

everything about this room feels like a graveyard.

“satoru comes back today.” shoko suddenly says, letting the first thing she can think of be verbalized. her eyes stay on the wooden floor this time. “he’s been in kyoto for a couple of days.”

you hum, nodding. you didn’t know.

if shoko kept her distance, then it was like satoru had completely faded. you couldn’t even remember the last time he had texted you.

then again, you weren’t sure if you’d even respond.

“i was thinking we could eat dinner together… when he gets back.”

your head perks up. barely.

that sounded familiar. mostly because it had been a routine up until recently. never verbally established, but it was natural for you and shoko to be accompanied by two towering sorcerers as you ate whatever satoru had decided on for the day. he was a picky eater. there’s a bitter taste on your tongue as you realize you’d be missing a member now.

“we can.” you nod, awkwardly kicking your feet back and forth. silence again.

you can feel shoko’s annoyance. how she’s trying to get you to talk, but you’re stupidly stubborn and refuse to. however, she knows you a little too well, and plays the waiting game. because she knows you’re weak when it comes to your heart, and weaker when it comes to the people you love. her included.

it’s not a relief when you finally break. if anything, it’s painful to hear, to watch. and though it’s only one question, it’s so complicated that it feels like you’ve asked her how the universe itself was created. simultaneously, it’s equally as simplistic.

it doesn’t even sound sad. it’s hollow, void of any distinct emotion. you’re staring at the wall.

“shoko…” you don’t pay attention to how she stills and watches you intently. you’re oblivious to the frown on her face, how she leans in just a little closer. and the widening of her eyes as you finish speaking. “how are you… okay?”

you feel particularly pathetic. shoko was so strong. satoru was the strongest. and yet here you were, more fragile than ever. on an alter, you’re a mere viewer from below. simply watching perched gods, basking in all their glory. the difference always evident, never comparable.

and yet shoko stares for a little, dumbfounded.

no, absolutely no one was ‘okay.’ the world was crumbling in front of everyone’s eyes. but you’ve always been a reminiscent person, she supposes. you search for familiarity. it’s harder for you to let go.

“did i tell you that?” she asks, more rhetorically than anything. there’s a teasing tone that her voice holds, but it does little to rid the tension of your question. you slowly shake your head.

“then how do you know that’s true?”

you shrug, fiddling with your fingers. “i don’t know.”

you want to tell her that your thoughts are purely based on toxic comparisons to yourself, but the air feels a little thick already, so you don’t.

“c’mere.”

there is no protest made when she wraps her arms around you, and forces you to fall into your bed with her. the pillows under your heads dip, and you’re enveloped in the softness of your blankets. shoko’s warm, and if you closed your eyes you might mistaken her hold to be like a mother’s affection. evident adoration, just by the touch. you’re derived and soak it up as much as you can, leaning into her.

it reminds you of late nights where you’d have sleepovers and gossip until the sun came up. too tired to train the next day, yaga ordering laps regardless of your visible fatigue. and you’d run with gleeful smiles, energy lifting as you were side-by-side again. an unexplainable friendship one could never truly describe with words, just pure thoughts. it’s sickeningly nostalgic, because you think about the fact that it really had not been that long ago. how quickly things change.

shoko nuzzles her face into your hair affectionately and sighs. she squeezes you tightly. declarative - ‘i’m right here.’ never enough to make up for the lost time and avoidance, but enough for now. because shoko didn’t act like this normally, and for you to see her in such a state meant more than just any regular apology.

“i think you know how to love better than any of us.” she admits, and that sentence alone has you curling a little more into her, your chest suddenly feeling tight. she leans in, and her lips form into a sorrowful smile as she observes you. full of pure understanding. again, a connection that could not be made with words. it feels a little spiritual. she brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. “that’s why you find it all so painful.”

hesitantly, you offer a sad smile, her words all bittersweet. it makes you laugh a little distastefully, the reality of them hitting you at once. “well, that’s not fair.”

“it’s not.” shoko agrees, nodding. “but it’s a lovely thing.”

you make a face. recently, it’s only brought you suffering. the good bits don’t seem as worth it - as ‘lovely’ as she describes.

you pause, contemplating for a little. and your voice is affirmative, like you’ve never been more sure in your life. you kinda sound like a naive child.

“i don’t want it. take my feelings. i don’t like them.”

it’s true. it’s the biggest truth you’ve ever told with the biggest sincerity. and you know it’s not possible, that you’re stuck like this forever. a soft, easygoing heart that beats for everyone around it. your words make shoko snort - a real genuine laugh. you giggle through watery eyes.

“the world sucks.”

this time, it is a pitying smile that shoko gives you. lop-sided, and hesitant. she feels bad.

her arms leave you, and she opts to instead lay facing you, faces mere inches from one another. you’re both laying on your cheeks, against folded hands. shoko taps your nose.

“you know what i think?”

you hum, sniffing a little as you try to focus on the small amount freckles across her face instead of the overwhelming urge to let some tears fall. it works, for the most part. you count twenty.

“i think the world gives strong feelings to strong people.”

you smile at that.

shoko was something else.

“i’m pretty fucking strong then, aren’t i?” you mumble, tired eyes blinking as you sigh. shoko’s eyes crinkle as she returns the fondness, a hand resting on your cheek.

“definitely.”

and you can only hope she’s right.

there’s nothing that interrupts those sweet moments of tranquillity. where you can act like everything is just a little better, because in all honesty, it was. shoko’s good at making you feel like that.

if you really thought hard enough, this could be just another regular day. you want it to be.

you feel shoko’s finger poke your chest, and she gives you a pointed look. it’s like she could read your mind - subconsciously, as if she had the ability of a third eye.

“it gets easier. every day it gets a little easier. but you gotta do it every day — that’s the hard part.”

she leaves it at that.

you lay together, appreciating each other’s mere presence. and it feels nice. support, like you craved, but words even more. you aren’t able to formulate how much you adore her, but actions speak louder than words, so you shuffle just a tiny bit closer.

you’re not sure how much time passes by.

when shoko stands up, she rids you of her warmth, leaving the cocoon of wonder and comfort she’d so gracefully created for you. yet you feel fine, that isolating shiver now replaced with content. you think you feel a little lighter too.

“be outside by seven. if it’s up to me, we’ll all get sushi. no promises though.”

she’s back to being more standoffish, but still your same shoko. you nod appreciatively, the thankfulness worth the weight of a million tons. your eyes follow her as she walks across the room.

the door shuts, and you’re left alone again.

you can feel your heart beat a little faster, the realization of your commitment to the later plans finally dawning upon you. it would be the first real reunion since then. maybe a chance to talk things out. be levelheaded, get some communal closure.

or, maybe you’d be able to ignore the past and focus on the present. just act like friends eating lunch. because that’s all it was, wasn’t it?

begrudgingly, you force yourself to stand, too aware of the fact that your habits of wasting time in bed have far exceeded a reasonable amount over the past few months. it was time to get better, be better.

your hands grab the first bag.

it’s heavy, as you imagine all the other ones are. but you suppose if you don’t think about what’s in them, it’ll make the process a lot smoother.

you’re nearing the door when you stop.

it’s a small paper, it’s yellow exterior almost blending in with the sunlight escaping through the windows. you inch closer.

and it’s pathetic that the sight of his handwriting on a sticky-note makes you lose your breath. shameful, because how are inanimate objects this damaging?

it’s hung above your desk. by haibara’s gifts, and by notebooks you never really used in this academically-lackluster school.

you stare at it for a while, hand resting over your forehead as you take in every minuscule detail. you let go of the bag.

it’s the last note suguru had ever left you, made a few weeks before his disappearance. before everything went downhill. little poetic phrases that would embed themselves in your mind until death. you’re afraid to look.

it’s neatly written, displayed in purple ink. doodles of clouds and flowers surround the words. he had a habit of leaving them around. you suppose you never caught this one.

there’s a little heart next to his signature, encapsulating just a memory of lost devotion.

‘how strange to dream of you, even when i am awake.’

your hand crumbles the note in a second.

the paper is evidently weak, and when you open your hand back up, the words are still clearly there, haunting you. and you know you don’t have the heart to throw it away. or, realistically - throw anything away.

you fold the note gently, and leave it on your desk. your body yearns to leave, to escape the suffocation of what suddenly felt like walls that were caving in. you slam the door on your way out, bags and all left behind.

you’d definitely prefer to wipe your memory.

•••

april, 2005.

“you’re so annoying.”

satoru grins, standing proudly as you repeatedly attempt to hit him on the head, your touch stopped by his infinity. he’d only recently learned how to control it decently - claiming that he needed to because you had a bad habit of using him as your punching bag.

“you know what though? this is a good thing.” you muse, arms crossing as you finally give up. satoru’s head tilts, and you raise a brow. “no one wants to touch you anyways.”

there’s a dramatic pout that immediately finds itself on his face, and he whines from instinct, letting his guard down for a moment to shove you. you slap his arm before he has a chance to react.

“she’s right.” suguru nods affirmatively, earning a gasp from the white-haired male, and suddenly, suguru is being shoved too. you giggle, briefly making eye contact with him. it’s a little too quick for your preference, but the stolen glance has you holding your breath for a moment.

it’s exhilarating.

suguru is beautiful in a way that is hard to describe. but it’s not from a loss of words; you can speak endlessly about him. he’s everything a person could dream of and more. but it’s little gestures that truly draw you to him. how it seems like he always lingers, attentive and patient no matter what boulders you seem to throw at him. he’ll carry that weight on his shoulders easily, and with the most effortless smile. it’s a gentleness that you weren’t even sure was possible before you met him. he defies all expectations, all normalities.

“oh, i forgot to ask-“ satoru turns to you, raising his brows. sometimes his glasses bothered you. his eyes were freakish, yes, but you also had a conflicting urge to always look at them. “how’d your mission go yesterday?”

you cringe, involuntarily stiffening as you replay the events in your head.

“stupid semi-first grade. i let my guard down for a second and it almost clawed me.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. you fail to notice suguru’s eyes widen. “but we exorcised it right after. i swear i saw nanami shit himself.”

there’s a stark difference in reactions from both boys. while satoru snickers, suguru stays quiet. white and black.

“glad you’re still with us.” satoru beams, ruffling your hair before you have a chance to swat his hand away. “right, suguru?”

all attention flocks towards him, and you and satoru patiently await his response. he’s looking off to the side.

he feels a little childish.

there’s an uncomfortable pit in suguru’s stomach that he can’t shake off, and he swallows thickly, nodding with a dismissive cough. “yeah, glad it went well.”

obliviously, you flash him a thankful smile.

it makes him feel the tiniest bit better.

he wished yaga would pair you two together, or even put you with satoru. an actual backup - not someone below your skill level. haibara and nanami weren’t comparable; they were still new to jujustu. younger, less experienced. he holds a little resentment towards your abilities, and while he knows you’re never sent on missions that are tougher than you can handle, he always has an inkling of worry that lingers uncomfortably. he hates not being around you - not knowing if you’re okay. and he knows you’re a reckless fighter. you brush off the mention of critical injuries and move on, completely unbothered. the burden of stress came so easily when he was around you and satoru.

“you have another one tomorrow, right?”

you hum, nodding as you fiddle with the end of your uniform, sighing softly. “it’s across town i think. not sure who’s coming with me yet - maybe it’ll be shoko if i beg hard enough.”

suguru has to fight a wince. also not an ideal companion. shoko didn’t specialize in combat.

she’d only be actual help if you were wounded, and -

“why not me or satoru?”

he speaks before he thinks, and iternally, he punches himself in the face. he can see satoru stop moving in his peripheral vision. he thinks he sees a smirk. coy, but no words come out.

scoffing, you deadpan. “where’s the practice in that? you guys will kill it before i even get a chance to see it.”

and that’s true, because it’s happened dozens of times before. show-offs.

“we can get kikufuku after!” satoru exclaims, completely disregarding you as you begin to protest rather loudly. “i’ve been craving it. i haven’t had it since last week!”

“wait longer.” you sneer, glaring at him. “i rather go alone.”

now that, suguru would verbally be clearly against, without any hint of shame.

“boo.” satoru deflates, rolling his eyes at you. “that won’t even happen.”

it wouldn’t. you hadn’t earned that trust yet - the absolute certainty that you’d survive if you did a mission alone.

suguru’s glad.

“not yet.” you chirp, and the hopeful smile on your face doesn’t help anything. “but soon enough.”

there’s that unwavering aura you always hold that makes suguru feel a little sick. it’s determination, stubbornness, that follows you and keeps you whole. when you talk like that, words void of any doubt, he knows you mean it. and you’ll accomplish it, because your will for achievement is stronger than your rationality.

but he has you now, right in front of him, so he’ll ease himself of the worry. for now.

“in a million years.” satoru remarks, sticking his tongue out at you, not even bothering to look your way as you hold up a rather unpleasant finger in his direction. playful banter was regular between you two; you fed off of each other’s energy. suguru seemed to be the mediator.

an observer, with eyes particularly always lingering on one certain person.

•••

spring has flowers blossoming again, and you feel inclined to stay out for as long as possible. the confinements of your dorm feels like an obstacle, and it’d be a waste to miss out on the beauty that winter’s absence welcomed.

it’s perfect weather.

the cursed weapon in your hand had begun to feel rather light, your arm adapting to the overpowering weight. you disliked close-range combat, but you were being sent on tougher missions now, so there was no room for complaints. your abilities needed to strengthen.

and it’s frustrating, really. to have to constantly forgo complete confidence and figure out where you’re weakest; you could easily make a list with areas of needed improvement. a lot of your classmates seemed to lack that issue. you suppose what’s worse is that you’re completely aware it wasn’t a competition - but you had convinced yourself that at the least, you needed to stay on their level.

even if that meant working ten times harder, even if that meant exerting yourself past a reasonable amount.

but this routine has gotten you this far, and, sincerely, it hadn’t been too much of a problem to keep up with.

in fact, you could probably do a little more.

“you shouldn’t train so much, you’ll strain yourself.”

your stance falters, though you easily recover within the same second. maybe a little too late, but you tried not to be nit-picky. he was naturally quiet.

“i gotta keep up with everyone somehow.” you quickly grin, trying to calm the visible pants of your labored breathing. it’s futile, and you momentarily turn away, as if embarrassed to look anything but perfectly composed. to look less than him - or anyone, really.

your back is towards him.

suguru can read you perfectly. it’s with ease that’s almost completely overbearing, and some part of him believes that he’s only been put on earth to watch out for you. like it knows that you aren’t the kindest when it comes to yourself.

it’s so natural that he supposes it might be his true purpose.

you only hear him hum from behind you, and suddenly there’s a weight pushing down on your raised weapon, ushering it towards the floor. gentle fingers graze against yours, and you let him grab it from you, albeit with some hesitation. he places it on the floor.

“let’s take a break, yeah?”

he doesn’t even need to coerce you, you’d follow him blindly if he asked. you always do.

and he’s leading you, knowing you’re behind him without having the urge to look back and check. exhaustion lingers, but you’re too entranced by him to focus on the sore ache of your limbs. he’s graceful as he walks.

“we trained this morning.”

you freeze momentarily, looking off to the side with a shrug. it’s not that he sounds hostile - it’s just a bit more monotone than normal. “practice makes perfect.”

suguru makes a noise of acknowledgment, but it sounds a bit absentminded and dull, lacking any understanding. like a huff of annoyance.

“right.”

he shouldn’t be this bitter, this cold, when speaking to you. it’s rough against his tongue, and his entire body, mind and all, is actively telling him to stop. emotions are ugly things, though. it makes people less rational; less aware - say things they may regret.

suguru slows his steps, up until you’re beside him, where you should be. and by a glance at you, he knows he’s gotten too uncharacteristically rigid. you’re looking at him, confusion clouding your head. concern, actually. he sees it now.

“did i do something wrong?”

the meekness in your voice, haunted with worry, clears his senses in a millisecond. his eyes widen. panicked, he feverishly shakes his head.

“no — no. of course not.”

he sees you relax a bit, but you’re still looking questionably at him. your head tilts. “then?”

suguru sighs, swallowing thickly as he stops walking. it’s an enchanting sight, grassy fields just a little off main campus. you see a few flowers.

you follow after him as he sits, greenery cushioning your bodies as you settle. suguru picks at the weeds, his eyes on the floor. he speaks quiet, voice among the gentle breeze as his hair flows in waves. you have the urge to remove his hair-tie and see it fully.

“i just worry about you.”

you don’t even attempt to hide the slight flustered smile that finds itself on your face, body feeling overwhelmingly warm. he’s avoiding eye contact for once. l

it’d be a lie if you claimed you didn’t notice the tension - the smiles, the laughs, the soft-spoken volume of his pure voice. so silky smooth it’d rid you of all your worries in a second. but there’s something so alluring about never saying it out loud. like it’s your little secret the two of you can keep, because adoration itself is something so beautiful it needed to be dragged out for as long as possible. you’ve grown to be a little impatient, though.

you nudge him teasingly.

“don’t. i’m right here.”

and it’s true; suguru sees it as a privilege. to be around your presence, to just talk to you — he worships the ground you walk on, and he’s not sure how to tell you that might be the reason why he worries so much.

instead, he chuckles, head bowing momentarily.

“i wish it were that easy.”

you bring your knees to your chest, giggling lightly.

he’s cute.

undeniably.

“it is.” you urge, dragging out the last syllable as you sway towards him. he meets your eyes. “just trust me like i trust you.”

suguru thinks that you’re sometimes oblivious to the weight of your words. they can be so intimate, and you’ll deliver them like any other sentence. as if you hadn’t just made his stomach churn, and his heart beat a little faster. he trusts you more than a healthy amount. he’d trust you with his life, his future — he’d leave everything in the palms of your hands.

“i do.” he replies, reassuringly. it’s earnest, and you smile. suguru bites the inside of his cheek, and closes his eyes. “it’s everything else that scares me.”

and there’s really nothing you can really do to help that fear, because you know it’s completely reasonable and realistic. tomorrow is never promised, especially with the hectic lives you live. you want to tell him that you have similar thoughts when he and satoru are out for days at a time, no return window strictly placed. that it has you pacing back and forth until their arrival, and even then you downplay your relief. but that’s a little embarrassing to say when he’s listening so intently, so you keep quiet.

you turn to him, shrugging with a smile you pray looks more optimistic than sorrowful.

“we can only ever hope for the best.”

a little hollow, less declarative than preferred, but it works the same. suguru nods in silent agreement.

suguru used to think that exceptional beasts like you and him could not fall in love — that it was the secret of ordinary people. for beings, who can alter the world, were special in indescribable ways. but he’s grown to be more open-minded, more accepting.

because what else could he do? you were so irresistible that it ceased the existence of his birth-given psychology. his mind, altered just for you.

“you know… you don’t have to prove yourself of anything.”

this time, it’s suguru who nudges you. he leans in, and you feel his hair brush against your arm. it tickles, but you don’t flinch. your body naturally welcomes the proximity, tingles and goosebumps etching across your skin. you squint, waiting for him to elaborate. and he does, with one validating sentence that kinda erases the possibility of self-doubt. just for a bit.

“i think you’re strong.”

he’d move stars for you, talk to the moon if it meant you got to keep the shimmer in your pretty eyes. and he’d ask the sun to stay out longer so he could continue seeing your rosy cheeks.

he’d gladly live for infinity if he could be the reason you get flustered forever.

you’re very pretty like this.

his eyes are watchful, observant as you scoff bashfully, avoiding him. and you quietly respond, with that same soothing voice. he thinks it could be a lullaby.

“i think you’re strong too.”

suguru smiles, nodding and all-knowing. he pokes you playfully.

“i know.”

you’d complain, but his tone lacks any arrogance. just a statement, enough said. because he knows how you think, how you observe.

and while you don’t say it out loud, your eyes are telling him ‘thank you.’

how beautiful the act of reading an expression is. of knowing a person so easily it’s like clockwork, unraveling intricate details to form a conscious understanding.

he watches your eyes narrow, and awaits a question he knows is on the tip of your tongue. your face looks a certain way during contemplation.

“you like doing this stuff?” you ask, tilting your head. “being a sorcerer, i mean.”

as if the two of you had other options. you didn’t.

but there’s something comforting about answering known questions. speaking the obvious into existence, letting the information linger in the air.

“i like it.” suguru replies, smiling. “if you get rid of the bad stuff.”

his voice gets quieter at the end, but you save him the questioning glance and smile back.

you hum, nodding. “like what?”

and you can name a million bad things. every day is a reminder of them. the two of you have that in common. but thankfully, the world has been kind enough to not let you experience them. your optimism hadn’t been tainted.

and as you expressed to him — you try not to dwell over the ticking clock, only ever hoping for the best.

suguru’s hands are behind him, propping himself up as he gazes at sheer, distant clouds. the sky is a pretty mix of yellow, orange, and red. evening approaches.

“well, all that self-sacrificing stuff for the betterment of mankind — for starters.” he sighs, head leaning back. you wonder if you imagine the way the slight slivers of sun sparkle against his skin, and how angelic his aura seems in that very moment.

you scoot a little closer, gaze matching his as you look upwards.

“we’re helping so many people, though.” you reply, glancing at him for a second. his eyes are closed, like a cat basking in the warmth of the light. you want to kiss his cheek.

“we are.”

“i think it’s cool.”

“it is cool.” he affirms, nodding. one eye opens, and he shamelessly stares as you obliviously observe the world. suguru is suddenly grateful that this view is currently only reserved for him, as he’s sure anyone would fall in love with you in this exact moment. yet, at the least, he wants you to see yourself in his neutral vision.

but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

he looks at your hand on the grass, right beside his. it’s contemplation that’s been built up for months, thoughts of you invading all his senses. suguru figures that if he had a flower for every time he’s thought of you, he could walk through a garden forever. he inches his fingers closer.

and pauses when they’re less than a centimeter away, pulling back as you break the silence.

“i mean, i’d die for you guys too.”

suguru tenses, and you grow nervously quiet from the sight of his surprised expression, feeling suddenly embarrassed. an awkward laugh leaves your lips in an attempt to ease the gloom of your words, and you mindlessly wave your hand. “if it came down to it, y’know.”

you would in a heartbeat. you’d do it a thousand times over if you could, but you don’t tell him that. that proclamation is reserved for only you.

and as suguru looks over at you, stares, he doesn’t think he’ll ever despise an idea more than he does now. it’s blazing, the thought horrendous.

“don’t say stuff like that.” he demands, shaking his head brazenly. you can feel his eyes still on you, and he’s lost his smile. “don’t ever.”

all the defense, the stoicism, stemming from the thought that — yes. he 100% believed you would die for anyone. and that terrified him more than anything.

suguru isn’t sure how to communicate his thoughts in a softer way. he doesn’t mean for his demeanor to grow so cold again, but it bothers him - makes him sick - that you can say things like that so easily.

“i didn’t — i’m sorry.” you stutter, eyes wide. you swallow thickly, “sorry.”

and again, it’s hard to be upset with you.

but this, he can be against. he needs to be.

“you can’t think like that.” suguru speaks, softer this time. it’s pleading, as if he’s begging for a bit of mercy. and he is. “please.”

he wants to tell you that it’s okay to be selfish, to prioritize yourself first. but it would seem a bit hypocritical coming from him, because he knows he’d throw everything away in a whim if it meant keeping you safe.

love blinds him, he supposes.

“okay.” you nod, eyes on the floor. “i won’t.”

you’re considerate enough to lie, despite knowing full well that your words don’t align with your mind whatsoever. and you think suguru knows that.

he’s staring. you can feel it, eyes as intense as a midnight sky. you feel a little afraid to look up and meet them.

but it’s only instinct when he speaks your name softly, a coaxing whisper among suffocating tension.

you think he looks ethereal when being clouded with concern. godly, towering upon you. the magnitude of his gaze truly shows with the lack of distance. you register the feeling of his hand on yours before anything else, the touch searing from pure shock. a large palm covers your skin.

“… i’m sorry. i just care about you a lot.”

worry is care. it’s one of the greatest devotions — the act of panic for another person.

suguru thinks that romance may actually be the most horrific thing in life. that it’s not curses, but love. it’s the deepest weakness.

“you kill me when you get injured — when you speak like that.” he mutters, and the two of you don’t say a thing as his hand inches higher.

it feels a little harder to breathe.

“can’t promise i’ll stop.” you reply, a pitying smile finding it’s way on your face as you watch him close his eyes briefly.

“i know.”

suguru feels a little like a broken record player, doomed to repeat the same phrases like it’s clockwork.

it’s futile, you’re mutually aware.

he can’t control you, he’s unable to dictate what decisions you make — no matter how stupid, or how horrid they are to him. but he can’t bring himself to stop trying. maybe, if you’re reminded your value, you’ll eventually think the same.

but, honestly, the way you’re looking at him right now could make him believe anything.

“did you find out who’s joining you tomorrow on your mission?”

the corner of your mouth quirks upwards, and he knows your answer before you say it out loud. he grins.

your other hand places itself on top of his, and you smile back. heart giddy, but you try your best to keep your composure.

“i pulled a few strings.”

•••

december, 2015.

you wonder if growing up not only changes your body, but your soul.

because it takes a long time to realize how truly miserable you are, and even longer to see that it doesn’t have to be that way.

it’d be kinda hard to feel your unhappiness now, regardless.

“i prefer if you keep them outside, megs.” you wince, eyeing the dirt-covered paw prints on the hardwood floor.

the two perpetrators stand on either side of their summoner.

flushed and clearly embarrassed, megumi curtly nods. his hair moves the slightest with the movement, and he turns his head away from you, kicking his foot back and forth. “sorry, i wasn’t thinking.”

the dogs leave your eyesight quickly after. you snort, playfully rolling your eyes at him, walking over to ruffle the dark spikes on his head.

“it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” you smile, silently pleased when he doesn’t move away from the ministration. he’s always been more lenient with you, a fact you hold high over a certain white-haired sorcerer. “plus, i’ll just make satoru clean it up.”

if you had blinked, you might had missed the way megumi’s mouth quirks up, satisfaction clear as day. it makes you giggle, up until you finally inspect him closer. your eyes linger on the dirt covering the side of his white shirt, and you softly sigh, pursing your lips.

“how was the curse?” you ask, nudging him a little where the stains are most prominent. “roughed you up a bit, huh?”

megumi’s introduction to jujustu wasn’t entirely seamless, but he was definitely a natural. an anomaly, like satoru. born with talent.

you watch as his face turns sour, and his eyes suddenly narrow, the stoic expression more familiar. he avoids your gaze and looks at the door expectantly, mumbling something under his breath.

“what?” you reply, brows furrowing as you lean a little closer in hopes he’ll repeat himself. megumi’s mouth opens again, and he’s about to, but an obnoxious ‘i’m backkkk!’ interrupts him.

you share an unimpressed look with the younger boy.

satoru strides inside, whistling with a grin. you’ve spent too much time with him, years ticking off your lifespan from both the annoyance and contentment that he simultaneously brings into the world. he and megumi had left early in the morning, and it was around midday now — too long with him, as you can clearly pinpoint on latter’s face.

satoru’s hands are in his pockets, and he shuts the door with his shoulder, leaning back against it.

“missed us?” he smiles, and he walks over to throw an arm around megumi, which is immediately thrown off. satoru glares momentarily, but quickly looks back up at you, clearing his throat. “missed me?”

you stare, sighing softly before gently tugging megumi towards you.

“i missed megumi.” you correct, crossing your arms. your head motions to him, “and why does it look like he got pushed on the floor? i thought you said-“

“it was a grade three!” satoru immediately exclaims, and points to the boy beside you in accusation. “he told me not to get involved.”

despite his adult frame, satoru never really outgrew his childishness, still quick to blame anyone other than himself. his defensiveness was mildly irritating, but you've come to grow used to it. your head shakes disapprovingly, and you huff. “he’s thirteen, you idiot.”

satoru’s smile turns a little mischievous as megumi looks at you quizzically, a frown on his face. “so?”

you rub your head in annoyance, ignoring satoru’s ‘oooo,’ and gently flick megumi on the forehead. “you’re not an official student yet. dealing with curses by yourself can wait. for now, you fight with satoru.”

satoru dramatically sighs, and much to your dismay, approaches you. his arm infamously wraps itself around your frame, body leaning towards you, and it feels like the weight of an elephant, crushing you as you stumble. he doesn’t let up. “you worry too much. and he exorcised it! maybe with a little less ease than expected, but-“

he grunts when a hand collides with his side, and you’re too busy pushing him off to see the way he sticks his tongue out at megumi.

maybe your concerns were a little irrational, but your heart was in the right place. megumi was still young, still enrolled in a normal middle school — albeit, close to his last year — and you had originally planned to keep him completely innocent for just a while longer. no world of killing, curses, and whatnot. but satoru had pushed him into it within the first few months of his complicated adoption, and you secretly knew that there was nothing you could do to completely shield that side of the ugly world for him.

so, you suppose the least you could do was teach him how to protect himself. in case you or satoru couldn’t.

“well,” you sigh, defeatedly. there’s a lopsided smile on your face, and you expectantly look to megumi. “how was it, then?”

there’s a boyish smile, a little shy, that appears on his face. “cool.”

“see!” satoru grins, arms raising in victory. “he loved it, and he should probably do it more often-“

“fine, fine.”

it’s always been pretty futile to argue with satoru. not only is he stubborn, but painstakingly arrogant. he tends to think his ideas are always the best, simply because they’re made in his very head. and you can’t discredit them, because normally, they’re alright. but it can be frustrating. he’s also really hard to deny.

it’s only natural to give in. just so you can avoid drawing it out.

“awesome! i think he’s ready for a special grade!” satoru claps his hands, and you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

“don’t kill my kid.” you mutter, shaking your head as you turn, ignoring the way satoru’s smile settles into something a little more genuine. heartfelt, maybe.

truth be told, you’d trust satoru with everything and more. you worry and fret, but at the end of the day, he’ll still be there. he’s been stuck to you like glue for years now, and it didn’t help that you practically live under the same roof. different rooms, but realistically having no actual space. it’s nice, and you really do hold him in your heart deeply. at an arm’s length.

you end up being stuck with cooking dinner yet again — satoru winning because otherwise he’d ’poison the kids’ (which, you think is stupid because he could easily just follow a recipe. also, he’s used that excuse before.) — and it’s like clockwork, a routine, when you find yourself sat across from him on the couch afterwards, tsumiki and megumi long gone in their respective rooms.

you’ve found that gojo satoru acts a bit differently when it’s just the two of you. less irritable, and easier to talk to; you’ve noticed this since you met him. his voice gets quieter, the blindfold comes off, his hair falls, and you’re presented with a more raw version. and maybe the kids get a different version too, but you find that hard to believe when megumi’s distaste is so palpably strong.

“movie?” satoru asks, peeking at you through narrow eyes. his face is a little smushed by his palm as he leans against the armrest, and there’s a lazy smile on his face. he looks kinda tired, weirdly enough. exhaustion is so foreign on his face that it looks almost fake. you wonder how much he slept last night, spotting hints of darkness beneath the pretty blue of his vision.

you think it’s strange that you don’t get sick of his presence, even after all this time. that’s it’s forever missed more than loathed. you’re always in such close proximity, practically doing everything together, and yet you find that crave him every second he’s not beside you. pitifully, it might just be the attachment issues you’ve subconsciously formed, and have unfortunately plagued satoru with. but that reason just seems a little too sad for you to fully admit. everything realistic is somehow bitter. you softly sigh, momentarily closing your eyes.

you’d love to stay, just to hear his idiotic rambles and comments. they always brought more substance than the film itself. and he’s been gone all day. you rub your forehead, feeling a small inkling of guilt.

“i have a mission later.” you reply, apologetically, and smile sincerely. “but when i come back, yes.”

an active report coming from a town over — information on paper only describing the energy as ‘ominous.’

“oh,” satoru’s eyes widen, and though you’re unable to read the exact emotion on his face, he seems a little alarmed. nearly wincing. he’s kinda upset that you didn’t tell him sooner, that being visibly clear — but then again, did you really have an obligation to? he didn’t really tell you whenever he had missions. but that was because he’d return in a few quick hours every time. satoru didn’t like being gone for too long either. he never dragged out his departures; he hated to leave you by yourself, even if the kids were with you. it feels a little cruel. you watch his eyes dart towards the windows, and he shifts, facing you. the movement is a little awkward, and he pauses before his speaks, hesitant with his words. “want me to go with you? it’s kind of late.”

it’s sweet that he asks.

“satoru,” you chuckle, tilting your head. “it’s a couple of second grades. i’ll be fine.”

a little white lie, but you craved some action. satoru always got stuck with the interesting missions, and even then they posed no such threat to him. all of your assignments were simple, too easy to be considered enjoyable. if this was going to be the route you were taking in life, — exorcising curses — then you could at least make it somewhat fun.

satoru can tell something’s off. you’re too dismissive, and you won’t look at him directly. but he feels as though it’s not his place to scold you, and he trusts you dearly, so he ignores his gut.

“alright.” he shrugs, his arms moving behind his head as they nonchalantly cross, contrasting the way he feels a little unusual. “call me if you need anything.”

•••

december brings cold winter air, and you blow into your palms, attempting to warm the skin that’s begun to grow a little numb.

more people should go on nightly walks, you think. maybe then it’d be more calming. every street you’ve turned to is nearly empty, the only comfort being provided by dim overhead lights. but you suppose you’ve gone through more fearsome events, so this shouldn’t really be that big of a deal.

it’s a little frustrating to be walking around so aimlessly. the report gave no specific location, just the brief mention of a couple of previous sightings. by now, they’d more-than-likely dispersed to other areas.

you’re slightly tempted to call satoru for some help, as you’ve never been the best at detecting curses at a long-range, but you refrain.

it was late, and you know he’d probably never let you live it down.

satoru would never say ‘no’ to you. but there comes a price with that reliability and expectancy. small instances, like when you caught a cold, and had asked him to order for you at a coffee shop because your voice had been to sore to do so. he complied, but not without a relentless amount of teasing, even going to far as to lie to the barista, saying ‘sorry, she’s just really shy.’ he lived for your embarrassment, and it was generally harmless, so you couldn't reprimand him for it.

but sometimes every time, he’d have his own small apology. like how right after you had returned home, there was soup coincidentally ordered on your front porch.

satoru had walked inside without looking at you.

he can be tolerable. rarely.

you're nearly persuaded to go back home, midnight beginning to take a toll on your tired eyes. as far as you were aware, the curses hadn't caused harmful havoc. but it'd be pretty humiliating to head back without a small victory, and even then you'd probably stay up feeling guilty.

unintelligible whispers break you out of your thoughts, and you blink, eyes scanning the area.

goosebumps arise, and your head turns.

finally.

you nearly jump when you see it, though keep your composure, standing straighter.

it’s hardly detectable, as it stands. fairly large too. it might actually be a second grade.

you huff, brows furrowing as you inspect the curse. this was the cause of the ‘ominous’ energy? you feel it, but it’s looks don’t work well with it’s written description. maybe you’d be heading home sooner than you expected.

your hand reaches behind you to grab your weapon, and you move forward, testing to see how fast it’s reflexes are.

it doesn’t move.

you pause, rolling your eyes briefly.

“at least put up a fight, dude.” you mumble, nearly sighing as it continues to plainly watch you. you walk a little closer, up until you’re only a few feet away, and hum. “you’re not the brightest…”

you insert your weapon back into it’s sheath, and stare. it’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to see a curse so closely. they’re all usually extremely reactive, not sparing you a second before attacking. violence is their prime instinct; the main thought in their heads.

when you reach your hand to poke it, and it still doesn’t budge, you know something is wrong.

oh.

your entire body stills, and you’re certain that you feel your stomach drop to the floor.

something felt familiar.

confirming your terrible suspicions, the curse disappears in front of your very eyes. not exorcised. you’re staring at the empty space that it once occupied, too bothered by the fact that your heartbeat has picked up ten times faster.

you almost reach for your phone, but stop, feeling as though it wouldn't be the wisest decision.

this suddenly all feels a little too calculated. you don’t even attempt to grab your weapon again.

shock numbs your bones. it bleeds through and renders you useless.

you hear your name before you see him, and you figure it feels the same as the nearly-fatal slash toji had given you almost a decade ago. so painful that it makes your heart stop. it’s spoken with such intimate fondness — too much for your poor heart to comprehend.

his ubiquity is so daunting that you’re sure all time ceases to exist.

you don’t want to turn around. you want to run, flee before you know it’s too late. before you hear him speak, and the world comes crashing down all over again. you’ve tried so hard to piece it back together. every tiny detail - you’re not sure if you’d be able to start over. why now? when you’ve finally been better. when you finally believed that normality was even possible to achieve.

but you’ve always naturally given into him, and that habit stays strong even after all these years. you think he knows that too.

it’s with upmost hesitance that you turn around.

you’re not sure what to do.

he’s a sight for sore eyes. healing, beautifully transparent. a dear smile, inviting you closer. or more like a predator awaiting it’s prey. your body is giving you every negative cue, yet your legs stay in place, submissive to his presence that’s been so horrendously missed.

he a little looks older. or maybe that’s just the unfamiliar sight of all his hair down.

“hi.”

a part of you thinks that if you ignore him for long enough, he might disappear. leave you alone, as he’s chosen to do before. he’s lost the right to be welcomed.

fury is really the only emotion you could accurately pinpoint. you hate how soft he speaks. you hate it more than anything.

if you could stomach it, you’d ask him to close his eyes and turn the other direction. you’ve always been weak when he looks at you so intently, as if studying you to the finest detail. but you refuse to be the one to look away first - you selfishly crave his attention more than you value your own self-respect.

and as suguru looks at you, he thinks you’ve made it impossibly more difficult to do anything but beg for undeserving forgiveness. he’s staring at reflective streams, seeing as they slowly trail down your face. it must feel nice to be falling tears, symbolic of raindrops returning to the ocean. he’d like to sit in front of the ocean again. with you, being careless teenagers just for a little longer. but the ocean brings back bitter memories and the thoughts of a certain brunette child, so he refrains from thinking further.

“… don’t cry.”

it’s not a command of any sort, but instead a quiet plea. you’re too pretty for tears. too pretty for pain, too pretty for this unfair life he’s plagued you with.

he watches your eyes visibly widen, and your hand raises quickly, using your sleeve to wipe remnants of your intense emotions. it stains your skin a bit red from how roughly you move, lashes dismally coated with the aftermath.

“i’m not—“ and you huff, your throat feeling tight. your head bows by instinct, and you shake it firmly. you press your palms to your eyes for a few seconds, pushing harshly, as if the pressure could ease some of the shock, or ground you in any way. “i’m not fucking crying.”

cautiously, suguru nods. he’ll play into you, listen to everything you say even if it’s not entirely truthful. anything to make his appearance less daunting and harmful. he waits for you to speak, knowing the sound of his voice may not be as pleasant as he had hoped. he’s not sure what he was expecting.

battered already, in so much internal sorrow you might collapse, you breathe as deeply as you are able to. it shakes, and you opt to biting your lip instead.

harrowing disbelief is tainting your skin and bones, and it feels hopeless to even try understanding why he’s here. waltzing right back into your life, bewitchingly present. words linger, staying on the tip of your tongue as you internally battle yourself to release them. release you.

the air smells like rain. and you think — all this anger, it was once was love.

“i hate you.”

and there’s a frown on your lips, trembling as you try to muster up all of the loathe, resentment, and frustration into those three words.

it fails. because the admission is not of truth — if anything, it’s guilt. for the sole reason that you know your feelings stand the exact opposite.

you hate suguru for leaving you. not him as a person; him as a thought. a thought that consistently runs rampant through your mind, adding fuel to a prevalent fire that refuses to be extinguished. and you imagine that he likes that he still has that effect on you, because the hauntingly serene smile he holds doesn’t even falter, not for a second.

you’re forced to stare at him with that expression, and it feels wickedly taunting. not as comforting as it had before.

“that’s alright.”

it’s all he puts out into the air, and that gentle tone he holds kinda makes you want to hit him. he’s not like satoru — you’re sure he’d let you. but suguru can sense your agonizing heartbreak. he’d sense everything about you with his eyes closed. and he feels guilty for making you reopen old wounds, but he’s unaware that they’ve never been given a chance to properly heal.

geto suguru sees a little bit of you in everything lovely. the sun shining in the morning, the smiles on two pretty little girl’s faces, the moon casting a dim halo over the world at night.

you’ve only become a greater treasure. one to be cherished, to be adored. he’s missed you in his sight more than anything. you’re still a angel on earth, incredulously beautiful. even with tears, even with that despaired look on your face. he’s fighting every urge in his body to not step closer and mend your broken self.

he’d like to run his fingers over your soul and pour his love into each crack he finds.

“give me a few minutes. that’s all i need.”

he’d prefer an eternity. but he thinks that he’s asked for something reasonable.

it’s expected when you scoff, glaring daggers with blurry vision. but it doesn’t make it any less painful.

suguru can take it. he deserves it.

“please.”

the distaste on your face refuses to falter.

you crave to love without it having consequences.

since when had caring become so much of a burden? it’s evil, honestly. maybe stone-cold was the way to go. nanami might be on to something.

“stop this, suguru.” you whisper, hand sliding down your face in frustration as you let out a bitter sigh that lacks any amusement. “leave me alone.”

he savors the way his name sounds on your tongue, the drawn-our syllables holding the same familiar care of nearly a decade ago. it feels longer, too much time spent away from you. it lightens his aura, makes his senses heightened in almost a feral way. you speak of him like fate.

old habits refuse to die, and he stays where he is, the same face of persuasion used as he outwardly refuses your answer.

“kill me, then.” he shrugs, and he thinks he might actually die from the way your frown falters into shock once again. his smile twitches, nearly threatening to downcast.

it should be what you do.

suguru was a dead man. that fact hadn’t slipped your mind. you remember when satoru saw him, in the flesh, after the sentence. he couldn’t bring himself to kill him then, and you could briefly recall the look on his face when you softly told him you could eventually do it if he wasn’t able to. that solemn twinge, knowing something you wouldn’t admit out loud.

because satoru knew, better than anyone around, that if you went through with it, it would break you past the point of repair.

suguru, seemingly satisfied with your stillness, steps a bit closer.

it kinda feels like doom. you think the world may stop for a moment, and that all the bad things in life will come and finish you off. that death will take your hand, guiding you, kinder than anything that’s ever really touched it. because what it’s held before has cursed it.

when his hands reach up, you expect a knife in the throat — any consequence for the stupidity of your compliance. but the blades are soft, and they raise to hold your face. gently, as if earning the trust of a stray kitten. because they’re not blades, they’re his hands. he feels you shaking against them. and it’s odd that all tranquility really needs is a certain sight; reassurance in the form of a graceful being who has been absent for too long. you don’t move. you’re unable to. instead, you stare, taking in a lost future. hair you used to brush yourself, eyes that would watch you with such visible adoration. they still do, and that realization alone has your head hurting.

you feel his thumb wipe below your eye, and it feels cold over your heated skin. suguru sighs, his eyebrows furrowing ever-so-slightly.

“you’re very beautiful.”

it’s spoken almost hopelessly, as if the admission physically hurts for him to say. in a way, it does. he’s let go of one of the last devotions to you that he’s kept bottled inside of him, because he knows this might be the last time he sees you. he has to let everything go. you need to know what he thinks of you, how important you are. how he’s submitted his soul to the disaster of loving you since you were teenagers.

by the way his eyes narrow, and his pupils grow just a tiny bit bigger, your eyes widen, and you’re pushing him away instantly.

you know what comes next. you’re able to predict it before it’s able to horrifically conjure itself out loud.

“no, suguru.”

he follows after you, a firm yet gentle hold on your forearms stopping you from completely leaving. you’re already shaking your head, biting your lip as it threatens to quiver. he’s trapping you, and he knows he’s already won.

“let me.” he coos, rubbing the skin of your trembling limbs. and you try to convince yourself that you shouldn’t sympathize, or fall for that sweet, missed voice of his. how he’s just a stranger you unfortunately know everything about. to ignore gentle aura you’ve missed so much that you felt as though you’ve never been able to get a grip on the pain in your chest. “let me say it.”

you’re not built for this, not capable enough to take another harrowing blow.

“leave — fucking, leave.” you seethe, frantically attempting to pull your arms back, though his hold has gotten stronger, and the fight that you have left in you is quickly diminishing by the second. there’s a moment — the tiniest sliver of time — where you stumble, and you’re being pushed closer to him before you can blink.

“you don’t want me to.” suguru shakes his head, eyeing you carefully as you stop your movements. it’s declarative.

you’d like to slap him. knock some common sense into his head because, obviously. you never wanted him to. not when you were sixteen, not now, not ever.

it’s just defense. because you cruelly know that letting him in will just make everything worse. walls were needed for protection, even if the doors are halfway open.

his hands find themselves cradling your face once more, and he’s pulling you, a small gap being the only distance left between a terrible decision. you’re subconsciously following, body keen on obeying his every move. his gaze feels a little intrusive, looking so intently you have the urge to turn your head and close your eyes. your breath is shaky, and you feel a little light-headed.

you wonder if anyone else in the world has ever loved someone this terribly.

hastily, your hands place themselves on his chest with an attempt to push him away, but they stay pliant. you look at him, incredulously.

“what is wrong with you?”

it’s clear when his expression darkens a little, and he dejectedly looks to the side. you catch his eyes widening a bit, the harshness of your tone foreign, because you’ve only ever spoken to him with such tender care. you’re spewing out words with cracks in your voice, nearly whispering because you’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll truly start a storm.

“you… you kill people, leave me — leave everyone — and then…” your eyes close, and you feel the liquid trailing down your cheeks again before you’re able to stop it. you can’t finish your sentence, too busy holding your breath to calm a threatening sob.

it feels like you’re sixteen again, and everything is crumbling.

his arms move slowly as they wrap themselves around you, and you feel even more inclined to cry when he presses your head against his chest. like he’s done dozens of times before. he sucks, the world sucks. this comfort is long overdue, and you still can’t find it in yourself to complain, simply succumbing to the pressure of his presence. you’d like to hug your younger self. because she needed this, even if it can’t really count as closure. even if you currently felt your knees buckling from beneath you.

“i wish i could take away the pain, pretty girl.”

suguru won’t give you false apologies. he only feels guilt for causing you harm. he dislikes how pain looks on your face, and he wants to tell you that he’s unable to sleep at night without you, that every day is a challenge. that truthfully, the ache is mutual. but he has something to accomplish, and you stand on opposing sides.

the two of you are stubborn people.

“take it,” you tremble, and your arms are already around him, despite the screams in your mind. he feels safe. he feels like everything and more. “please, please, take it.”

the pleading in your voice makes suguru feel horribly ill, and he tightens his grip on you, not really knowing what else to do.

it’s worse when you’re the perpetrator. the criminal, the evil. he wonders what your life might have looked like without him in it — how happy you could have been. should’ve been.

but there’s been bad things — events that he’s sure might had ended horrifically differently without his existence.

he wonders how your scar looks, now.

suguru’s fingers are firm as they reach below your chin, and he forces your eyes to meet once more. they’re red and glossy, but still undeniably captivating. he’d like to look at them forever.

“i would, if it were that easy. i promise you.”

you believe him. it could be from the genuine strain in his voice, or your muddled brain that’s clawing to escape your own head. what good is a healthy mind?

he’s saying your name again, and it’s quieter this time. more intimate. you don’t cower, you stay, even huddling the tiniest bit closer. you’ve given up on composure, you’ll let him selfishly have you. besides, it feels nice when he’s treating you so delicately. hands ghosting over your cheeks, eyes that admire your desperate, sad ones. you don’t stop him this time, numbly prepared for the aftermath.

he pauses, trailing his thumb over your jaw, and swallowing thickly. he’s never quite looked normal. always too perfect in comparison to everything else. he smiles, and you see a hint of something that you can’t really classify as full joy.

“i love you.”

the world doesn’t end.

you’re still looking at him, thinking that it will for a moment. instead, you see bashful pink.

‘i love you’ is such a tricky sentence. it’s powerful, meaningful, and could also be a lie. the power of speech is that there really are no limits, and you suppose that’s what makes bad people. sometimes.

he toys with the collar of your shirt, briefly, and lets out a breath of amusement through his nose. suguru feels lighter. and simultaneously horrible. he tilts his head, barely, his voice quiet.

“will you let me kiss you? even if you hate me?”

there’s a little teasing in that sentence, and he nudges his nose across the side of your face affectionately. you’re unaware of how hard his heart beats against his chest as soon as he asks.

you’re sixteen once more, and you’re silently nodding before you’re able to think further.

you’re imagining fairytales you can’t believe in.

it’s hard to determine how long you’ve thought about it. his lips on yours. your hands are in his hair and on his face nearly immediately. you’d trade a lot of things to be this close for longer — you wish to be combined. and he’s soft. he’s so soft you dread taking your hands off of him. if heaven was a place on earth, it’d be this.

pitiful.

he tastes sweet, like a forgotten dream. butterflies suffocate your insides as you stand, and your knees feel a little weaker. suguru is a bit impatient with his movements, hands trailing down your sides to squeeze and caress. his touch feels hot and is hastily done, but gentle nonetheless. you feel his lips curl up against yours, and your stomach flips.

you rather not pull away. pulling away brings back reality, and fantasy is really all you want. if you kiss him a bit harder, and close your eyes a little longer, you’re able to stay.

he pulls back first.

you’re breathing heavy, eyes wide as they bore into his. he might be the most precious thing in your life, and you’re not sure if you’re able to let him go. you’re afraid that you’ll love him forever, and that you’ll never be in the same place again. this feels cruelly temporary, and you know it is. by the way his expression settles, and the way he repeats those three words so quietly, it’s meant for only you to hear. a fact.

“i love you.”

you swallow thickly, in a haze that’s caused just by his very being. a drug-like addiction, and you feel so content it’s like you’re home.

suguru knows you won’t say it back. and in all honesty, he prefers it that way. it’s what’s best. what matters most is that he knows you mean to. he’s able to read that lovestruck wonder on your face so easily it makes him warm. it was both a relief and horror to be known so perfectly. you, who still wears your heart on your sleeve. he’s forever grateful that you’ve always been so giving, so selfless when it comes to him. he feels as though he abuses your sweet compassion.

you tug on his sleeve.

“we can work something out.” you whisper against him, and suguru knows he’s gone too far. he’s tensing, and his eyes are anxious, a small shake of his head contrasting your nods. “i’m yours. i’m yours before anything else.”

heart, mind, body, soul. you’re bonded for life, and you’ve known that since you were young.

“oh, no, baby.” suguru hurriedly answers, and the desperation in your voice, the way you clutch on to him a little tighter, has his head reeling. he’s panicking. “you’re better where you are, sweet girl.”

you know his mind is made up, that it’s fruitless to try, but you’re so blinded by desires that you don’t even care that you’re begging him. he’s mean, doing this to you. there is no ultimatum or other decision - this is it. you’re just destined to be separate, and that hurts to realize, so you’re glad he’s cushioning the blow. just enough for you to keep standing.

suguru is complicated. he hates that he is, he hates what his life has brought him (the only exception being the beauty of the people in his past; you included), but he’s certain that you’re safer as it is. golden and pure. with satoru, with shoko. and you’re strong. you’re so strong he can’t put it into words.

maybe he had some reasonable motives — riko’s death, yours and satoru’s near deaths, haibara’s death — but they’ve shaped him. shaped you, more, as it seems. you continue your life, even after it’s been tainted red, and blackened with misery. satoru, the same. you can take a bit more. you’ve gone through the worst of it. at least — it’s what he selfishly tells himself.

it was stupid to come see you. kiss you, at that. but he can’t bring himself to regret even slightly. if he’s considered evil, barbaric, he’ll gladly take the titles if it meant spending more moments with you. it’s cruel, not malicious.

you’re still his person. but he can’t have you fully — at least, not in this lifetime.

suguru isn’t really sure he could pass on the torch so easily. to give you up completely — the most ultimate sacrifice. where there would be a possibility of his replacement, and the loss of his heart. he can’t trust anyone with loving you; no one can really love you like he does. he’ll take pride in that.

“you’re going to live a long, happy life.” suguru quietly assures, nudging his nose against yours. your eyes are tightly shut, overall avoidant. this might be a nightmare, if you believe hard enough. “find someone who loves you, and you easily will, do everything-“

“i don’t want anyone else.” you interrupt, eyes narrowing as they open, like the idea is something of the unthinkable. “you’d be stupid to think i do.”

this might be worse than unrequited love, you think. every feeling is mutual, besides the belief that you should be together. he’s the bane of your existence. and that kills.

suguru is reasonable. you understand his refusals, why the two of you can’t be — how immaturely you’re thinking about this. you can’t leave your life behind for him, it’d be asking for your own death sentence and the loss of everything left that’s good in your life.

you can’t create a cycle, as much as it pains for you to come to terms with.

“i can’t have you, pretty girl.” suguru sighs, trying to ignore the way his voice wavers the tiniest bit. he’s growing desperate in persuasion, but even he falls flat against the situation. “i want to, so bad, but it’s not right. we’re not right.”

your chest feels tight as you stare up at him.

you wonder, truly, if he’s aware of all the turmoil he’s caused; that he’s let happen, because he never even came back to offer a mere shoulder for support. he simply left you in the dust.

it hurts to hear, especially coming from lips that had been pressed so wonderfully against yours. you still can’t bring yourself to hate him.

you used to fear irrational ideas. that if you let someone in, take care of you, you wouldn’t really be yourself anymore. independency never worked well, and you’ve strung on a bit too hard to a knight in shining armour. a being like icarus, who’s flown too close to the sun. you were right, it seems.

you’ve lost, and it kills to realize.

bitterly, you remember hearing some time ago that ‘it gets easier.’ or better. it’s been repeated to you, multiple times. the reality is, you’re not too sure. what gets easier is maybe the coping. but even that is still evil and painful.

hopeless, you stand, and your voice feels hoarse.

“… suguru?”

how can you hate something so natural? when it feels as though those syllables are meant to be spoken in repetition. his name means excellence; to surpass all.

suguru looks at you, eyes previously occupied with gazing upwards to avoid an act of human emotion. they mirror yours, glossy and faintly red. no visible tears. he has the self-control you lack.

but you can be a little selfish.

“can you…” you take a deep breath, and lean a little forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck to escape a reaction. if he feels the liquid of your tears, he doesn’t comment on them. he’s awfully warm. you’d like to lay in bed with him under a summer sun again. you’re trying to force every part of him into your memory while he’s pressed to closely against you. how his hair tickles your neck, the security of his loving arms keeping you from physical harm, how pretty he looks up close.

it’s not greedy to ask for a final request, you think.

“can you stay with me, then? for a few more minutes?”

an innocent question, while he’s been nothing but cruel. despite everything, you’re still you.

it reminds him of his youth. when you and satoru would get into playful arguments, gaining a few steps on him, only for you to turn back and check that he was still there. or when you would return from missions, him being the first person you looked for every time, just to let him know you came back safely.

sometimes, you’d come back a bit battered up, and instead of confiding in shoko for help like any other person would, you trusted him with treating the wounds. all natural, because that meant you got to spend more time together. human bodies are fragile things. he realized the true extent of that after toji. you really can’t take anything for granted.

so it’s really no wonder why he fell in love with you. why he came to fully accept it. and his belief stands strong — anyone would. angels are irresistible, he finds. he would sometimes see wings.

suguru’s glad you can’t see his face. because maybe then, you’d catch the sight of a reflective shimmer trailing down his cheek.

the embodiment of your dreams, hopes, and desires holds you so gently, a little tighter now. he nods against you, but it feels disconnected, because he’s faded into darkness that has already consumed him. too far gone.

time is nothing for now.

and you wonder if it actually does get better, or if everyone is just lying to you.

•••

september, 2018.

“sensei?”

blinking slowly, you immediately straighten at the sight of three towering figures above your relaxed position.

there’s a panic that sets in at the recognition of how watery your eyes feel, and your head turns in an instant to cough awkwardly, avoiding their stares.

it’s around noon, judging by how pleasantly the sun shines through the window, and how awake your students look. yuji liked to sleep in sometimes.

“did i zone out for a bit?” you mindlessly chuckle, the words feeling a little strange on your tongue. you might have a migraine from how much your head is hurting. “i didn’t get too much sleep last night, sorry guys.”

your smile radiates a reassuring warmth, and the concern on their faces leaves by the time you look back at them. if jujustu didn’t work, maybe you could take up acting.

“we finished the warmups you instructed!” nobara beams, short hair flowing after her as she proudly stands. she glances at yuji, her eyes narrowing. “well, me and fushiguro did.”

yuji shoves her.

nobara has always reminded you of rough recovery rooms and gentle curing hands. it makes you a bit nauseous, the nostalgia of it all.

the sight of the whole trio sometimes felt like daggers digging into your heart, stabbing greedy wounds into open gashes before they have a chance to heal.

brighter days for them, a dull ache for you.

“you weren’t awake yet-“

“i told you to wake me up!”

“you did not!”

yuji and nobara bicker for a second, and you feel a little overwhelmed.

because since these two have set foot on campus, they had seemed oddly familiar. unbeknownst to them, but relentlessly distressing for you. you’re silent as you observe, the uncomfortable pit in your stomach staying clear as day. stubborn, because that’s only natural for you.

more than a decade has passed — nearly three years since your last encounter, almost a year after his death, and yet here you are. the hurt just as strong, because you’ve realized that the pain will never fully go away, and you suppose you’ll have to adapt to living with it forever.

but you’re grateful. though you couldn’t go back to the way things were, you have a chance at stopping the cycle. after all, you know little about what the future has in store for them.

you hope it’s kind. you want those grins to stay permanently, for their youth and innocence to linger for as long as possible. because you never had that luxury. the end of your purity was far too quick, adult emotions flooding your senses. you’d do anything to keep them from feeling like you.

plus, you’re allowed to grieve over the child you could’ve been.

“alright, alright,” you blink, interrupting them before their voices can get any louder. they immediately quiet down, turning to you expectantly. it freaks you out a little.

you were still relatively new to whole teaching thing, not used to being followed so attentively. it felt weird to give orders — to have them be listened to, really. satoru was more of a natural, his cheekiness benefitting him perfectly. even if the students found him undeniably strange.

“give me ten minutes and i’ll meet you outside.” you wave a hand, pointing to yuji. “and sorry kiddo, you’re doing some laps for getting up late.”

you fight a smile as you witness a pout form on his lips, nobara’s laugh drowning out his whining. you’d probably only make him run one, but it was always amusing to lie to his face. you adored yuji — he was a bundle of joy graciously given to the universe. it’s pure luck that he ended up with you.

you watch as nobara drags him out, your head resting on your palm, softly chuckling. they complimented each other well. like siblings, you think.

your head turns, finally facing eyes that hadn’t strayed away from you since you woke up from your daydream. it's like a sixth sense now. you know when he's looking at you, when he seems genuinely bothered. it took time to know him. he’s a hard shell to crack.

“you don’t get special privileges, megs.” you snort, motioning your head towards the door. “go join them, i just need some time to wake up.”

megumi looks unimpressed (and honestly, when does he not?), sighing softly before coming closer. the cushion beside you sinks as he sits, and you raise a brow questionably. his voice is blunt, quiet as it fills the room.

“you think too much.”

it surprises you a little, but you’ve come to learn that megumi is rarely predictable, and to always expect the unexpected.

“do i?” you muse, your smile visibly weakening as you softly laugh.

he was too aware of everything, perception like no other. he reminded of you of suguru sometimes, behavior so nonchalant in comparison to the rest of the world. they were both silent observers.

megumi nods, and you realize he’s rather close, only a few inches away from grazing your skin. touch was something megumi struggled with growing up, so you never pushed it on him; you hated making him uncomfortable, while satoru could care less. the giant didn’t understand boundaries. but sometimes, movie nights in his adolescence led to him latching on to you in his sleep. he had his moments.

it makes the action of his hand raising, pressing your head into his shoulder, much more meaningful.

“don’t think.”

megumi’s never been one for melodramatic situations. growing up, he’d used to complain when tsumiki would force him to watch disney movies with her, getting visibly annoyed when he’d spot her tears during more heartfelt scenes. you never brought up the fact that he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder (you secretly wonder if that’s why he’s doing that now), or would rub her back. megumi’s not kind, per say, but he knows how to secretly love (in his own, strange way. similar to satoru), and you think that’s more important than anything.

“that’d be cool.” you sigh, closing your eyes. your eyelids feel heavy on your face, and you try not to get too comfortable, remembering that you’d have to get up in a few minutes. “wish it were that simple.”

megumi hums, staring straight ahead.

your past is a secret to him, tightly kept in the confinements of your heart. and that's really the only hint he's ever needed to know that it still affects you. satoru, the same. he knew little about your lives before he came into the picture, only hearing bits and pieces when you and satoru would get a bit sleep-drunk and giggle about old memories. he's always tried his best to listen, soaking in any details he can. people are generally more honest and open when physically tired. it's why they confess things during late night conversations, and why the flow of words comes out more natural.

you were different from the idiot that had originally taken him in. megumi can scream from every rooftop that he hated gojo satoru (despite it being secretly untrue), but you? the mediator, who he looked up to more than anything? impossible, it’d be criminal.

maybe you disliked seeming hopeless in front of him, but he didn't mind that vulnerability. he wished you'd trust him with it more — that you knew he would never dream of judging you. he's not too well with words, or communicating, really, so he's also not too sure how to tell you. a double-edged sword.

"you're okay, though — right?"

his eyes glance downwards towards you, dark blue highlighting the inklings of concern. it's not awkward when he asks.

he has a heart, despite satoru's beliefs.

heart warmed, you grin, raising your head to look at him with crinkled narrowed eyes.

you find it funny how the world works. going in some strange, bittersweet chain of events because here you were, caring for the life of a dead man’s son while he had permanently tainted yours. and you're happy. not completely, but sun shines through. the blinds are halfway open.

something that had once seemed so dark has been becoming technicolor.

"yeah." you nod, sincerely, and pat his cheek gently, stifling a laugh when his face scrunches in silent disapproval. "thank you for asking. really."

his face gently pulls away from your touch, and you can tell he's slightly flustered, just a tad embarrassed at your small affection. you're grateful for him, unbelievably thankful for the bits of effort he's always put into caring about you (and tsumiki. and maybe the tiniest bit for satoru. tiny.). a true blessing.

gingerly, he stands up, hands in his pockets as he glances at you again, double-checking. you smile.

he only continues to walk towards the door when you give him a nod in reassurance.

you're left staring at your hands when he leaves, a soft sigh escaping your lips. some days are harder than others. it's the toss of a coin, no chances pre-determined. you simply wake up to the surprise every time.

admittedly, you miss the version of you that doesn’t really exist anymore. naive, but more open. fearless and valiant, only ever seeking improvement. you feel bitter that you took that time of your life for granted.

you’ve found that everything’s felt easier, though. something in the air is different.

“hey, did you leave the kids outside? it's hot out there and they're complaining like crazy-“

you hear footsteps come to a halt, and your head tilts up, finding satoru in it's vision. he stands in place by the door, eyes wide as he stares.

"hey," you nonchalantly wave, stretching to alleviate the soreness in your muscles. "i'll be out in a second."

you attempt to get up from your seat, but satoru ushers towards you, stopping you from successfully moving.

"woah, woah, woah — what’s got you so blue?” he asks, scanning over you briefly. there's a light-hearted smile on his face, and if you didn't know him well enough, you might have mistaken it for amusement. but it's down-casted slightly, and he's looking at you a little too intently.

you snort, rolling your eyes playfully, “i’m not blue.”

satoru blinks, unappreciative of the response that he can only justify was from being around him too often.

“fine — what’s wrong with you?” he corrects himself bluntly, crossing his arms. your eyes follow him as he takes a seat beside you, and you internally sigh, thinking about how you’ve left your three students to perish under the sun.

you wave a hand dismissively, "nothing.”

“aw, c’mon,” satoru drawls, and you have half a mind to complain when he sprawls himself over your lap, his eyewear pushed upwards and off his face as he looks up at you. the blue twinkles, even under the fluorescent lighting. “you’ve never been a good liar.”

“okay, now that’s a lie. a bad one.” you scoff, poking his nose. “i’m a talented actress. oscar worthy.”

he playfully winces, narrowing his eyes at you. “no one’s ever been honest with you before, huh?”

“who needs opinions?” you roll your eyes, nudging his head softly. “it’s all about self-love now.”

“yeah, yeah,” satoru whistles, peering up from one eye, the other closed as he visibly relaxes against you. “see how far that takes you.”

you gasp dramatically, “mean.”

the corner of his lips quirks up, and his familiar smirk returns.

banter was natural with satoru. it was hard to take anything seriously with him around.

he brings joy in mundaneness.

“you shouldn’t trust megumi, y’know.”

confused, you pause, looking at him questionably.

“why?” you ask, and you’re internally conflicted as you attempt to recall every recent memory in your head that’s a classified secret. or, something you’ve generally told megumi as of late. nothing comes to mind.

“dunno. he told me something was wrong with you when i walked past him right now.”

your eyes widen, and you groan, head falling back against the couch’s soft exterior.

traitor.

“so,” satoru continues, and his voice is softer, a little more serious. “really — what’s wrong?”

it’s always been pointless to beat around the bush with satoru. he’s impatient, immature, and wonderful. a bad mix that makes you wonder how it’s even possible that he’s generally likable.

“nothing.” you emphasize, rubbing your head in slight annoyance. “he’s making it up.”

you rather not have this conversation. not while the air is half-hearted, and everything has been steady. but he’s right there. and it might not hurt as much as you think it will.

satoru gawks, mouth open, before poking you harshly. “now you’re calling our son a liar? low blow.”

you huff, “he went lower by betraying me.”

a beat of silence.

“so he was right?” satoru blinks, and he’s sitting up hesitantly, awaiting your voice, or a movement. anything to confirm.

“will you leave me alone if i say no?”

“no? you just admitted he wasn’t lying.”

“oh. yeah.”

you’re smiling lightly, faintly awful because you’re not too sure how wise you’re being. maybe this was only the mature option.

“um… i was just thinking. about him.”

you hadn’t really spoken much about last december. there was no tension or anything — it was just a touchy subject for the both of you.

satoru had more right to be bothered.

you expect his expression to drop — for it to grow uncomfortably quiet, leaving you to voice a regretful apology. you’ve rarely seen satoru break. his joyous front is him in natural form. sorrow doesn’t look right on his face.

he’s only been at his worse around you. and that’s a fact that binds you for life, as dismissive as you two seem to act about it.

angels carry weights off your shoulders, and satoru smiles a little. albeit, visibly bittersweet, but a smile.

“we do that a lot, don’t we?”

he’s stupid, annoying, and infuriating when he looks at you like that. as if you two are similar, and he knows how to ice the bruises on your back.

(he does.)

geto suguru is an enigma. is, because even in death, he’s found a way to stay alive. he lives in memories; in thoughts that keep both of you awake at night.

“i guess i just …” you trail off, staring at the floor. you’d be okay with living the rest of your life by satoru’s side. he’s peace, and he knows you tenderly.

you exhale, a small bitter chuckle leaving your lips.

“i don’t know what to do with all the love i have for him.” you admit, arms laying flat as you shrug with a despaired smile that makes satoru feel a little hollow. your hands flow freely, motioning for a few moments before resting back in your lap. “i don’t know where to put it.”

you haven’t known in years. it’s bundled up, suffocating your insides and exhausting your soul. he’s too well tangled with it.

a lot was left unsaid.

answers you crave, questions that will forever follow.

“i’ll take it.”

satoru grins, and you have to bite back a smile from how infectious his expression is. it radiates sunshine.

you feel his warm hands cup over yours, and he gently rubs across your knuckles with his thumbs, soothing that isolating cold. “you can give it to all of us, actually. but more for me.”

he’s silly, and he’s everything and more.

you wonder if you would’ve made it through without him. he’s impacted your life so heavily, you can’t imagine a world void of his presence.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you mumble, smile ever-so-visible as you playfully nudge him. satoru nods feverishly.

“i’d adore it.” he’s beaming like the cheshire cat, and your expression falls flat as you await whatever idiotic words would flow out of his mouth next. he brings a finger to his chin and hums.

“you know what, though? maybe give some extra to megumi. but i’m not really sure any love could save that kid. not even a mother’s. he's creepy, i'm telling you-“

“satoru.”

he innocently smiles, eyes closed. “just a suggestion.”

you playfully roll your eyes.

it’s all romanticism until it truly hurts. love seems so small, so trivial, when you’re not being affected.

satoru hides his grief better than you ever could. he copes uniquely, and you suppose his way may even help you a little.

they should invent a healing that is linear, you think. so you can’t fall behind, and you can be all-smiles too.

but you’re close enough.

just the right amount, actually.

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are searing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me 😭 and by beta read i mean left the funniest fucking comments everywhere and i will forever remember how hard i laughed 🤣 i adore u sm thank you <33 SHES ALSO A WRITER TOO GO CHECK HER OUT on ao3 she is an amazinggg writer there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

--

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

jujutsu kaisen recs

main masterlist

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs, luv you and thank you in advance❤️

WHY ARE ALL OF THEM SO FUCKING GOOD????????! pls tRUST me

gojo

gojo eating you out

gojo x dacryphilia

gojo loves fat pussy

sending gojo an accidental nude so he sends you a whole video

car sex with gojo

gojo being goofy in an elevator full of people - he´s big on PDA

gojo tried to give himself a haircut and now wants to go bald - this is fuNNY ksksks, I love the banter

trying to break up with yandere!gojo - yep, we´re talkin about lovesick toxic obsessed type of gojo, break up????? you know better than to tell him that sooo since you´re acting dUMB he has to fucc so sense into you bc clearly you forgot who tf ur talking to - LDKJSDFJDJFHLSHFLSHDF but he´s not rough bc he luvss you a lot

gojo is the pussy fairy - fwb, he´s your sneaky link when henessy makes you act up. he got a mf tongue piercing bYEE

insecure bully!gojo - angst, lil fluff, he´s a bully but he´s in love with that, but it´s not enough. part 2

the horniest - smut, ITS SO GOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDD, he´s horny af, pussy drunk, obsessed, borderline crazy for that wap

phone calls - slice of life, hubby!gojo, dilf!gojo, his wife and his daughter are his only priority, this is so sdkfjskdjfh :´( i love it

cherished moments - clanleader!gojo, hubby!gojo who is a softy for his wife, #simp

family moments - fluff, slice of life, this is so wholesomeee, bf!gojo meeting your parents for the first time, i love it

someone older - smut, rich dilf!gojo, big age gap, big dicc too, talks big shit as well, "what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and fuck his dad" I MEAN- skdfhksdf

best of the best - smut, fwb! satoru, big sHIT talker omg, he lit asks you to be his gf wHILE he´s making you cum,,,,,best bf ever tho

love struck - fluffy, ex-fuckboy!satoru, he´s experiencing love for the first time :((((( IT´S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE

love dumb - fluff, blurb, you make him lose his composure, can´t even focus bc you´re over there existing, someone should make a longer version of this! so good

too much - ANGSTTTYYYY, fluff too, reader and gojo are in a situationship kinda thing where they live together and love each other but nothing has been said yet, they get into an argument bc gojo has a big mouth and says a lot of hurtful things, they´re both just so exhausted

i know you still think about the times we had - angst, fluff, rich bf!gojo, his father makes you break up with him, it´s so angsty omg, they get into this HUGE argument bc gojo´s dad is a controlling mf

sanctuary - fluff, lowkey angst, weak!reader, bully!gojo, nah he´s just in love but doesn´t know how to say it

the road to falling in love - fluff, strangers to lovers, it´s a collection o moments where keeps falling harder for you, I LOVE ITTTTT, sdkfjhskdjf it´s kinda slow burn but not boring at all

loving you - fluffy af, "you’re the apple of his eyes; the love of his life. the only one who matters" ME N WHO???? pls this made my want to cry my heart out

yuji finds out gojo has a family - fluff, lowkey angst, hubby!gojo, dad!gojo, so,,, this made me cry, i love yuji sm he deserves the world :( this is part two and it also made me crY MY MF EYES OUT :))))))))

i´ll meet you forever in this memory - fluff, college au, married life au, it´s so good, he lit has this big ass plan to make you fall for him, and i mean big, like planned way ahead lmao, 10 years later he´s still asking you to go out with him,,,,even if you´re already married sdlfkjkdfhlsdjh so so cute

can´t stop drinking - ANGST, death, blood, dad!gojo, husband!gojo, mentions of wanting to die, a curse kills you and your son allegedly but in reality the elders had lied to him all these years, part 2 made me fucking cry, PLEASEEE I NEED PART 3

hype man - crack, fluff, supportive bf!gojo, he´s such an amazing bf :(, “damn, my girl ran you over with a bus, reversed, then got out and shot you twice in the foot? what did you do?? sounds like a you issue.” LMAOOOOO this is so cute and funny at the same time, i love it, such a gojo thing to say

flicker of flame - fluff, nervous soon to be dad!gojo, pregnant!reader, he´s going to be the best dad ever

nanami

when you break up and make up - nanami divorce au, angst

dorm room escapades - smut, dad´s bestfriend!nanami, age gap, GAWWDD DAMNNNN, daddy kink, this is some good stuff

you ask him to fuck you like a whore - its a short one but me likey

nanami drabbles - pwp, pls yall readdd part 2 and part 3

nanami is strong af - short blurb, smut, sdflksjd this got me giggling and shii

fifteen minutes - “Say that again. Louder. Can’t hear shit with the sound of my dick slapping into your cunt.” that´s all I have to say, your honor

protective - headcanon, hubby!kento, i love thissss

swear it´s just right for you - smut, fluff, hubby!nanami, I´m weaaaak, he´s so husband material

stressed after work - boyfriend! kento, a cute lil drabble bc he loves your mere presence

labour of love - fluff, vanilla smut, lowkey angst if you´ve been keeping up with the manga/anime, loving hubby!kento, SO DOMESTIC, love making, :(

losing his mind - smut, dom!reader, hubby!kento, sub!kento, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW, 10000/10, now this is new

his protégé - fluff, slice of life, fiancé!kento, dinner time with yuuji, it´s so wholesome :´)

my future is with you - fluff, unexpected angst, this is SICKKKKKKK, the last senteces is fucking sickening, and NOT in a good way, so fucking wrong for that, I litteraly wanna dIE

tie my tie, marry me - fluff, slice of life, "the moment nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side" please just do yourself a favor and READ THIS

putting you in your place - smut, reader is gojo´s brat little sister, mean!nanami, BRAT TAMER!NANAMI, HEAVY degradation, “Maybe this was your fucking goal all along. To have me ruin you on my cock and fuck the attitude out of you.” CALL 911

edging - smut, pwp, fluff, this,,,,this is one the BEST nanami smuts out there, i just know the description of the whole thing is 100% accurate, the details, the way this is written, the visuaLSsss ldskjfhjsalfh go read it pls

married man - fluff, work au, HE IS A PROUD HUSBAND OK, the man was just waiting for somebody to say sOMETHING sljsdhfl now he can´t stop bragging about his perfect wife

toji

toji x size kink

toji x pussy spanking ´till you´re squirting - the title says it all,,, he´s MEAN

toji doing push ups with you on his back - you´re basically a rag doll,,,bc wdym he puts you in a fULL NELSON??

toji gets embarrased - the man WHIMPERED bc the riding was gewdd so reader kinda teases him for it, how dare she right? so now he has to make her pAY bc he aint no bitch

silk sheets n sticky cum - toji can´t control himself when he sees you in a nightgown so he uses you as a cum dump,,, in a very romantic way flsjdflkssldfjlsdfh, breeding kink

toji x overstimulation - fINALLY he got what he deserved, reader got him WHIMPERING, body shaking eyes rolling to the back of his head and everythangggg, I'm here for it.

take it lil princess - toji got me fucked up, straight up size kink like FRRRR he wants to break, bend and basically snap you in half (i´ll let him tbh), daddy kink, he got a big dicc as aLWAYS, the degRADING DIRTY TALKKK???? yes. he talks and talks and tALKS. there´s a lot going on yall

mine - toji mixed with monster!porn,,, nothing else to say- HE´S A WEREWOLfff, mean asf, breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, it´s nasty

jealous daddy - slice of life, dilf!toji, megumi is a baby, toji and megumi create a plan to keep you away from megumi´s kindergarden teacher lmaooo, its so cute

nyphomaniac - smut, nypho!reader, dom!toji, THERE´S A WHOLE LOTTA STUFF GOING ON HEREE, just read it omg

family man - fluff, soft dad!toji, baby megumi, husband!toji, he´s a softie for his son and his wife ;(

unprecedented reveal - smut, fluff, mma!toji, journalist!reader, lowkey angst, "photo leaks of toji going down on you in public is suddenly exposed for everyone to know about the infamous fighters girlfriend" wELL dssdfh that´ll do it

will always be yours - smut, fluff, so basically toji only does rough sex, doggy style being his fav, but when it comes to you he prefers the loving-face to face-intense eye contanct type of sex (more like love making) bc being with you makes him feel ten different emotions at once :) DÑFLJSLDFJ

unspoken memories - fluff, lowkey angst, dad!toji, baby!megumi, married life, my heart is so full after reading this, it´s so domestic, so adorable, such a happy read

make a mess on his face - smut, toji is a messy pussy eater, that´s it, that´s the tweet

geto

gimme, gimme more - rich!geto x stripper!reader, lots of plot and build up, he is misteriousssss and fucking filthy and so cuTE??????? wtf, the wating game is real, he knows how to play his cards very well, LAWDD HAVE MERCY i would have folded too

gripping the headboard with one hand - smut, “what a slut.” hELP

protective hubby - teacher!suguru, pregnant wife oc, it´s cutee

focus - suggestive, flirty!geto, tutor!geto, “you’re doing so good for me… keep going.” I HATE ITTTTTTTT, i would fold like a mf lawn chair bitch OOF

dress shopping - very suggestive, WHY IS HE SO SMOOTH WITH IT ALL THE TIME??? got me blushing and sweating and shit

phoque - crack, teacher!suguru, twin girls dad!suguru, he accidentally curses in front of his daughters and now he´s gotta make up some bullshit story to save his ass, SLFHSLDKJHSLDH this is funny

choso

picture perfect - smut, photographer choso, he´s lowkey a perv, jacks off to oc´s pictures

suckig souls - smut, succubus oc, somnophilia, sub! choso, lil dacryphilia, love love love love it

meanie - smut, mean!choso, “Why you actin’ like some dick-starved whore? I fucked you good this morning" THE WAY I SCREAMEDDDDDDDD “Is that what you needed, princess? Some good dick?" STOOOOOOOOOPPPP

your pleasure - smut, squirting, choso discovers the magic of eating pussy :))))) aND he´s a fucking natural too like ???? gTFO

it´s too much - smut, dom!reader, inexperienced!choso and sub!chose fics are like crack to me, i´m obsessed, this is so detailed, he is eager to please sdlfjls and wants to try it all at once

fingers in his hair - smut, chose loves having his hair pulled when he´s eating pussy,,,,,,,CALL A MF AMBULANCE a bitch just died

cherry blossoms - smut, virgin!choso, phone sex, it´s his first orgasm yall, not yuji talking about a "sloppy toppy" LSJFHLSJDFHLFDH he´s so outta pocket

sukuna

itadori

vivid fantasies - smut, sukuna wants to bone you and he makes it yuji’s problem sakfhkshfksfd poor yuji

poly / multiple versions

gojo and geto are rich besties and they coax you into a poly relationship - smut

you slap their ass - reaction. gojo, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso, toji, megumi, itadori, yuta

too much for them to handle - toji and gojo version. it´s a LOT going here as well. gojo is a whole swiTCH. toji is a bully in the sheets so you know he´s all abou that degrading teasing dirty talk, we love it

slut him out - gojo, geto, nanami and toji version. y'know what,,,idek what to say about thi- IT´S NASTY FILTHY JUST PORN, reader is a whOre (not my words), read at your own risk bc i was SHOOk

how jjk men like it - smut, the gojo and toji one,,, i HATe it hereee

bimbo bunny - smut, choso, toji and nanami version, the vISUALs I GOT FROM THE NANAMI ONE LAWDDDD

birthday boy - smut, birthday sex, dacryphilia, i just KNOWWWW this is geto

The Night We Met

[Summary] In the halls of their college, Sukuna which is known to be "The evil twin" finds himself inexplicably drawn to his twin friend, Y/N who embodies innocence and purity. He is well aware of his reputation and is taken aback by the unfamiliar emotions stirring within him. Would he be able to wrestle his own inner demons and blossom love for someone he never thought he could care about?

[Warnings] In this AU Sukuna and Yuji are twins. All characters are 18+, occasionally contains strong language, there's SMUT or mentions of it on some (majority) of the chapters, fights, blood, angst, fluff…you name it. If I am missing any other type of warning, please let me know!

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter 09

Chapter 10

* / MISBEHAVING

— MASTERLIST;

( sukuna x f!reader / gojo x f!reader )

+ to join the taglist: fill this up. (open!)

summary: after getting kicked to the curb by gojo satoru, you want to give him a taste of his own medicine. the answer? ryomen sukuna. but you get more than you bargained for when you get entangled in both family’s messes.

content warnings: angst + fluff + smut (MDNI), modern au, fake dating, toxic relationships (and families), mentions of abuse/suicide/death, everyone in this story is petty in their own way (and i mean very petty), sukuna is mostly a dick (so is gojo), toji is a bad father, everyone here is bad at feelings (sorry!), manipulating/gaslighting, alcohol/cigarettes will be commonly mentioned & included, certain degree of elitism, beware my horrible planning skills + more to be revealed as the chapters go along.

status: ongoing! (click here if you want to read on ao3)

-> flip the pages:

01. prologue: the calm before the storm

02. chapter one: the enemy of my enemy is my (boy)friend

03. chapter two: barking up the wrong zenin tree

04. chapter three: keeping up (fake) appearances

05. chapter four: the monument to all your sins

06. chapter five: two sides to the same coin

07. chapter six: and that’s where love finds you, in the tragedies

08. chapter seven: where there’s smoke, there’s fire (and disaster)

09. chapter eight: two can keep a secret

10. chapter nine: the devil is in the details

11. chapter ten: bound

12. chapter eleven: be careful what you wish for

13. chapter twelve: there are no good people here

++ more to be updated!

+ notes: please remember—not everything is accurate to real-life situations & all things that happen here are fictional. sukuna doesn’t have tattoos on his face here, just his body and they’re not the same as the manga/anime. titles for unreleased chapters might change because i’m indecisive. related asks are under the tag #series: misbehaving

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

(𝘗𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘶𝘹)

✉ chapter announcements: [1] [2] [3]

✉ pairing: Neuvillette x F!Reader

✉ status: ongoing

✉ tags: enemies to lovers, arranged & forced marriage, one sided pining, forced proximity, eventual romance, female reader, reader is an attorney, reader is from liyue, reader has an electro vision

✉ warnings: graphic description of injury, reader hates everyone but the melusines, reader is really outspoken.

✉ sum:

“Because to love me is embedded glass and you are a fool if you have done so monsieur.”

“Then I am a fool.”

It is a shame, really, that you, the Chief Attorney of Proteus & Portunus Litigations, the one that has been gifted with the title "mademoiselle", is an outsider. Not Fontainian in descent. Upon hearing a rumour or two, the Hydro Archon, ever the kind and just, decides to bestow you a certain privilege and honour with another title. "𝙈𝙖𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙉𝙚𝙪𝙫𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚." After all, two "outsiders" may just help each other become more "Fontainian."

✉ link:

ao3 | wattpad | tumblr tag

a.n: border credits to @cafekitsune

LOVING THIS SHOTS BRO and I look majestic

My front bangs are actually blonde but this will do

Who wants to do a cute fall picrew with me? 🥺

🍁🍂 Link here 🍁🍂

Tagging: @wyvernslovecake @averysmolbear @oxygenbefore1775 @humanitys-strongest-bamf @chaotic-on-main @youre-ackermine @mobolanz @bita-bita @satorizz @marleysfinest @nube55 @stoned-eren and anyone who would like to join! :)

My aot cosplays so far. I cosplayed as armin if you think that's Erwin 😭 I have hange's wig so she's next 🤙🏻

Honestly can't find any other good armin series or fics do you have any recs or faves in mind? I'm literally armin starved t—t

oh anon you asked the right person. also sorry for the long ass list...i could name some more so lmk if you want more recs. i have more faves in my head but i'm afraid this is already too long lol.

all this time - junisfics on ao3

beneath the cliffs - sophsiaaa on ao3

ulterior motive - sophsiaaa on ao3

malware - satosugusadness on ao3

good boy - serendimplelity on ao3

sisyphus - sabbywrites on ao3

monomania - piecksz on ao3

catholic boy - cafedanslanuit on ao3

p-p-p-pathetic - angeplummie on tumblr

heatwaves - arlertwitch on tumblr

four times armin bites - papijean on tumblr

surface tension - prettyboykatsuki on tumblr

better than him - luxesiren on tumblr

nevertheless - oyusumi on tumblr

mean armin - noritopia on tumblr

will you be my valentine - kooruphobic on tumblr

study date - alert-arlert on tumblr

— strangers (soulmates) part 1

pairing: erwin smith x f!reader

summary: erwin smith was the embodiment of intimation, money, and power. and you were his personal assistant.

genre: office au; smut, angst

word count: 2.1k

warnings/notes: swearing, no real warnings for this part; purely self-indulgent bc i just watched aot for the first time and i love him so bad

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EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE [CHAPTER LIST]

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

Aggressive land grabbing from the royal government ensue from one countryside to the other, all allegedly for the prophecy: a tree, vast source of power that’d bring great abundance and prosperity to mankind, is standing among their lands. As the said prophecy holds the answer to the tragic childhood you have no memories of, the guerilla’s commander pulls out something he prepared for years to help. AO3 | FANFICTION

TAGS: hurt/comfort, angst, mystery, childhood friends, fake marriage, modern au, parallel universe, reincarnation, mentions of canon, pining commander erwin smith

WARNINGS: trauma, manipulation, referenced child abuse, graphic depiction of violence, major character death, psychological warfare

PUBLISHED: September 21, 2022 | UPDATED: February 21, 2023

01 "What have you seen that day?" | 02 "The voices are conquering me." | 03 A Fragment of Mine | 04 Contradictions | 05 The Underground Commune

STUCK [CHAPTER LIST]

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

All the fictional characters you consume and know of seem to exist in one time and space. Unfortunately for you, you suddenly woke up in that world out of the blue. It is until your encounter with a disturbingly curious character that you realized you could still have your way out. Oh, what could go wrong? AO3 | FANFICTION

TAGS: modern & college AU, parallel uni, eventual romance & smut, crack treated seriously, literal reader-insert lol, typical isekai plot but come on!

PUBLISHED: October 4, 2022 UPDATED: December 19, 2022

PROLOGUE — 01 Deal — 02 Upbringing — 03 Reaffirming — 04 Lie

Levi x Reader

I’ve been brainstorming this for a while now so here ya go.

Summary: During Levi’s first battle with Kenny you come to his rescue only for Kenny to discover that you and his nephew have been married for quite some time

Disclaimer: I don’t own Attack on Titan or any of its characters no matter how much I wish I did, I also don’t own you which is a shame because if you’re reading this we clearly have the same interests and could be friends. I don’t own the GiFs below either I couldn’t choose which one so ya got both. Enjoy

Warnings: swearing, violence, sexual references, Levi being an amazing husband

Levi x Reader

You had heard the gunshots before anyone else had. They had echoed through the inner city of Wall Rose causing screams to rip through the air as the people below you ran in the opposite direction, their panicked yells ringing through your ears. You yourself had been flying through the Trosh District, your ODM gear whizzing as it grappled you from building to building, the wind clawing at your skin and blowing through your (y/h/c) hair, your eyes watering slightly at the sharp gails. Your brown cape flying behind you, you had been trying to locate the wagon in which Eren and Historia had been taken in.

You had to contain your exasperation, Eren was always getting kidnapped or injured it ran your husband ragged trying to protect that boy. Now the scouts were on the run from the law since Erwin was framed and it wasn’t easy tying to look after a group of inexperienced and immature scout children.

You and Levi had contemplated having children yourselves before the drama had begun and before you were wanted by the military police, but after trying to look after the ones in the Survey Corps it was beginning to dawn on you that maybe you wouldn’t mind waiting a little while longer.

More gunshots echoed catching you off guard, so much so that you had jumped violently in your line of trajectory, gritting your teeth you strained your body to pull yourself up and away from the streets below, the leather straps pulling against your slim body as you swung, trying to pull yourself upwards to avoid becoming flattened into the side of a house or the street below. Your muscles were aching from having to manuvor through the buildings, your heart hammering against your chest at your efforts to try and fend off the military police, they had new gear and new moves. You didn’t know who had taught it to them but the technique seemed familiar, it was unpredictable too messy for the usual standards of their combat.

You landed grunting slightly, on top of a roof, your eyes scanning the sea of houses trying to find out where the gunshots were coming from, you could make out a trail of grey smoke coming from the other side of the district. You would bet every last penny you owned that that was were Levi was, he was always right in the grip of danger he just seemed to be a magnet for it. You heard more people land around and for a split second thought they were members of the military police, you whipped around grabbing your blades pointing them at the throat of the nearest presumed enemy, only to freeze at the sight of Jean, holding his hands up in surrender quivering slightly.

“Easy (y/n) it’s just us.” Jean stammered, you glanced around to see Mikasa, Armin, Sasha and Conny surrounding you. Relaxing you sheathed your blade and backed away from the Jean the boy stumbling away sighing in relief.

“Do you know what happened to Eren and Historia?” you asked turning to Mikasa, the girl glanced up at you blood smeared on her face.

“Yes ma’am their heading towards the gates, we were on our way over.” she replied the others nodding. You sighed glancing back over to where the smoke was still climbing into the sky, explosions and gun shots still ringing through the city, you clenched your jaw.

You could go with the children and save Eren and Historia or you could let them go alone and go aid Levi with the military police. The answer seemed very obvious but if you let the kids go alone they could end up losing Eren and Historia and everything your fallen soldiers had fought for could be in jeaprody.

Too many lives had been claimed at the expense of Eren, not that it was the boy’s fault of course. You could still see the panicked looks of your squad as they were taken out by the female Titan only escaping death yourself as you husband swung in just as the female titan’s hand was about to swat you. You would never forgive yourself if your comrades had died in vein.

You chewed on your lip, the pressure of time clawing through your mind.

“Did you hear those gun shots?” Sasha asked the others nodding interrupting your thoughts.

“There was a man there, I saw him as I was going by.” Conny added, you perked up at the boys words turning your head slightly to hear him better.

“A man?” you questioned.

“Yeah” Connie replied “tall skinny, old looking wore a big black hat, draped in a black trench coat, quite scary.”

You froze, your heart stopped beating for a second as cold wave of dread washed over you. You knew the military police’s new fighting movements seemed painfully familiar, you knew they had a new commander but you wouldn’t have thought it was him of all people, the man you and your husband had resented together. If Kenny Ackerman was the one incharge of the military police then the situation was worse then you had thought it to be.

“Mikasa, Jean, Armin I want you to chase down that wagon, get Eren and Historia back kill anyone who crosses you. Sasha and Conny keep the skies clear make a path for them.” you commanded launching your grappling hooks onto the building your ODM straps pulling your body off the roof top, as your feet were about to leave the surface a hand grasped your shoulder holding you in place.

“Ma’am you want us to kill people? That’s not right!” Sasha cries out Armin nodding behind her “our enemies are titans.”

“Kid, I know it’s confusing but this isn’t the same world you were trained in. Things have changed, we don’t have time to be ethical we need to be direct and do whatever it takes to get those two back.” you growled, the conflict was evident in their eyes their own morals being strained by their orders. You knew they would do what was right and listen to you, but you understood their conflict but they all nodded hesitantly.

“Where are you going?” Armin asked quietly, you sighed looking out at the city where the destruction was coming from.

“I’m going to see an old friend. Now get moving!” you yelled before shrugging Sasha off your shoulder launching off into the sky not even bothering to look back at the teens as you flipped over the roof tops.

You could feel a growing anger inside you as you weaved through the streets, the gas hissing from your gear launching you higher and faster through the air, desperate to reach your husband and his uncle. You hated Kenny as much as Levi, the sick bastard leaving you and Levi to fend for yourself in the underground at a young age.

You yourself had been orphaned at a young age much like Levi, he and his uncle had stumbled across you trying to steal from them, what you were stealing you couldn’t remember but knowinf tje cruelty of the underground it could have been anything that meant survival. Instead of killing you, Kenny decided you would be of use to him, he taught you to use the ODM gear stolen from the military police members he had cut down, taught you how to fight and barter. How to say hello with a knife.

After time you and Levi had grown closer, nights spent huddled together for warmth and teaching each other new tricks with various weapons, even Kenny at some points had shown a rare and minor maternal side, it had felt like a small dysfunctional family. Maybe that’s what caused Kenny to turn his back on you, maybe it was all becoming to real for him.

On that day he had decided he’d had enough of playing ‘dad’, that greasy and disgusting man had tried to grab you on the street of the underground, Levi had jumped on him quick to rush to your aid and protect you like he always had. It was only after the beat down the two of you noticed that Kenny had gone, slipped out between the crowd and never seen again.

Of course after it had sunk in you and Levi had carried on with life, you had to. But Kenny’s abandonment had cut a hole deep in both you and Levi, one that had never fully healed. He was the only relative Levi knew he had, he was the only parental figure you had known, no matter how much of an alcoholic he was. So to have him here now of all places, you knew Levi would kill him if Kenny didn’t kill his nephew first. You were not willing to see that happen.

As you continued to navigate your way through the air you heard the familiar sound of ODM gear behind you, you already knew it wasn’t the Scouts. You launched yourself into higher abobe tje houses managing to execute a tight flip, as you spun round you managed to catch a glimpse of who was chasing you. Three members of the military police were hot on your trail, pistols in their hands where their blades should be.

Growling to yourself, you landed on a roof top making a mad dash across it your body screaming at you to run faster the air tight in your lungs. You heard one of them yell their bullets whizzing through the air. You grasped your cloak and threw it towards where the bullets were coming from, the shrapnel getting caught in the thick brown fabric acting as a shield.

You tossed it to the side and tumbled behind a chimney, the stone protecting you as you waited for them to have to reload. You slowed your breathing wincing as more of the bullets dented the stone, tensing your muscles waiting for the onslaught to stop you would be ready. As soon as the bullets stopped and you heard the clicking of bullets being changed you launched yourself from over the chimney, grabbing your swords and launching them at two of the military police members their blood filling the air flying onto your face, their eyes wide as your silver blades ripped through their flesh.

Launching your grappling hooks from your gear, the spiked latches flying through the final enemies head, a small hole being pierced through her skull, her brain making a cringe worthy squelch as the hooks propelled through her forehead and out the other side, her body spasmed violently before dropping to the floor. You were still in the air briefly landing on the roof grabbing your blades back and retracting your grapple from the woman’s head, her body lurching at the movement as you took off back into the sky, the bodies behind you sliding off the roof into the street below.

You released a grunt as you pulled yourself round the streets taking a final corner, the scene below you causing you to shudder, your brain almost stopped working at the sight before you.

About twenty military police members stood around what appeared to be a tavern, their guns all pointed at the windows and doors where you assumed Levi was hiding, fear hitting you like a lightning bolt at the thought of him cornered like an animal. But that wasn’t the only thing that made you panic, infront of the doors stood Kenny, his signature black hat resting on his head, his heavy boots making him stand at an intimidating height, lanky locks of greasy brown hair sticking out from under the signature hat. You could see his mouth moving and you knew he would be taunting Levi, it’s what he did best.

You grappled one last hook into a nearby house flying through the air drawing your blades holding them high above your head, years of pain and hurt bubbling inside of you finally having clawed it’s way from the depths of your sea of emotions. You knew you weren’t thinking properly otherwise you would have been much more strategic, years of training in the corps, years of experience with Titans had gone out the window. Kenny was no Titan. He was worse.

“KENNY!” you screamed, all eyes turning to you, Kenny’s expression shifting from one of mocking to one of surprise and unexpected shock. You careened toward him, not even caring what happened next as you swung your blades down hoping to land a blow to your uncle in law, a loud clank of metal could be heard as your blades clashed with his arm, he must have been wearing armour underneath the coat.

Damn. You thought to yourself, your arms shaking as you tried to push against him, his face twisting into a grim smirk. Your legs trembling at the amount of force he was pushing against you, you grit your teeth glancing at the cobbled floor your feet were sliding against. You glared definitely into his cold eyes, you weren’t going to lose. You were not as strong as Kenny, of course you weren’t, but you were smarter and quicker.

As he continued to push against you, you continued to glare at him giving a cocky smirk, his eyes widened before you dropped your weapons and ducked under his long legs causing him to stumble forward all his weight used to push against you sending him flying forward, you pressed a leg into his back causing his fall to be inevitable, his face crunching against the floor.

You held a blade to his neck from his position on the floor, his face hidden by the rim of his hat, but you could make out a sneer on his gaunt face. Your eyebrows knitted together, a low growl escaping your lips as you lean down to pick him up by the collar of his shirt a sudden surge of strength raging through you.

His face had aged, smooth creases sketched into his pale skin, his dark eyes still icy and uncaring, his face still pinched and thin from years of living in the underground. Kenny has been an admittedly handsome man in his youth, it could even be argued he was still rather attractive by older women, but to you he was the slime ball who had left two children to die.

He hadn’t seemed to change much personality wise though, his face twisted into an arrogant smirk flashing a set of yellowed teeth from a lifetime of smoking and liquor, a grey stubble around his chin and his breath hinted with tabacco and spirits. If it wasn’t for your anger you would have dropped him from disgust.

“I was wondering when you’d show up (y/n), where ever Levi goes you trail pathetically behind.” he sneered, your glare hardened as your hands gripped tighter on the collar of his trench coat lifting him higher off the ground “it’s good to see you’ve both made a life for yourselves in the Survey Corps, it’s made you a better fighter.”

“I should kill you.” you seethed, had you been talking to anyone else they would have coward at your terrifying tone and vicious expression, your position over the pathetic worm asserting dominance. But not with Kenny, even with your fist readied to pummel his face, even with your stance ready to fight, even with your experience in killing not only titans but people all he could do was laugh. An insane and chilling laugh that made you double take, your eyes widening his body shaking with each chuckle.

“You haven’t changed a bit have you sweetheart?” he mocked his pet name sending goosebumps over your body your silence amsusing him “always rushing into things without thinking them through, I had hoped I’d taught you better then that if not me then at least the Survey Corps. Levi isn’t here to save you from your mistakes now though is he? He’s cornered like the rat he is, you though...you’re no longer a street rat. You’ve become quite the vixen my darling.”

His cruel eyes trailed along every inch of your body, taking in your heaving chest and slim waist with nicely toned arms and legs, your (h/c) hair falling around your face in soft waves, your top buttons of your shirt undone from the previous struggle, revealing your collar bone and slight cleavage. You almost gagged as Kenny licked his lips his eyes sultry and glinting with slight admiration at your development over the years.

Gone was the scrawny and ill looking child he had once known, now stood beside him a strong and very attractive woman. He couldn’t deny you had filled out in certain areas very nicely, if he wasn’t in the middle of trying to battle his nephew he would have spent longer looking. You felt your heart hammering in your chest anxiety whispering in your ear at what his next actions would be. You knew his soldiers were pointing their pistols at your head, ready at any second to pull their triggers and launch lead into your flesh. You knew Kenny was the only thing that was preventing that from stopping, you hated to admit it but that bastard held all the power you really hadn’t thought this through.

He was right. It was just like when you were a kid, whenever Kenny sent you and Levi on a mission of some kind you were always the first to act on impulse, Levi had continued to save your ass every time you screwed up. You knew he couldn’t come out of the tavern without being killed himself unless you pulled a miracle out here, but you also knew that Levi would be formulating his own plan to get you out safely and himself.

“What are you doing here Kenny?” you hissed pointing your blade closer to his throat, the man smiled wickedly as his “friends” cocked their guns pointing them higher to your head from their distances. Your eyes watched them cautiously, you were heavily outnumbered it didn’t matter what you did, even with your advanced skill set it was impossible to escape by yourself.

Your eyes shifted to the right to look at the Military Police stood by the enterance to the tavern, you could see a small flash of light from the window, it happened so quickly that it couldn’t even have been there, but your expert eyes knew what that was. It was Levi, he was signalling you to stall Kenny, you had worked with your husband on the field for too long you knew all of his motivations through the smallest actions.

This proved one thing though: Levi had a plan.

“Good girl.” Kenny breathes as you retracted your blade, the metal weapons scraping against their holders as you backed away from Kenny letting him stand. You didn’t flinch as the man rose to tower above you, your expression bored as he leaned over you “don’t look like that (y/n), you look to much like Levi. That’s never a good thing.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” you replied placing a hand on your hip narrowing your eyes “what are you doing here?”

“Can’t an uncle drop in and say hi to his nephew?” he asked brightly throwing his ands out to the side, you arched an eyebrow trying to contain the growing anger, Levi needed you to stall him but you didn’t know how long you could go before you knocked one of Kenny’s teeth out.

“Sure, but I don’t think he wants to see you. You left him remember? You left both of us on our own in the underground.”

“And look how great you both turned out. One a Captain of the Survey Corps the other a member of said Captain’s squad. Really quite impressive.” Kenny chided.

“You left us to die Kenny.”

“No. No. No. I left you to thrive. You could both fight, you could both steal and take what you wanted. You didn’t need me anymore and I didn’t want you anymore. Besides, Levi’s raging hormones were beginning to get on my nerves. The little shit could barely compose himself around you.” he seemed amused at your refrained shock his lips twisting upward.

Obviously Levi had harboured feelings for you, you had the ring to prove it too. Your wedding had been a huge event in the gossip of the walls, every corner of Wall Rose and Sina had heard about your marriage to humanities strongest all those years ago.

Did Kenny know too? You wouldn’t put it past him. The man was resourceful, of course he was he had tutored you and Levi he had to have been to create such fine fighters. If Kenny knew would he use it against you or your husband? No. Kenny wasn’t here for you, you didn’t even think he was here for Levi, you knew he was here for Eren and Historia but why? What purpose where they to him? You figured it didn’t really matter so long as you stopped him. So you would play it like he didn’t know, you wouldn’t let him know if he didn’t.

“Did my runt of a nephew ever actually tell you about his feelings for you? He tried so hard to hide it but it was so painful to watch him rush in to save you whenever you needed it, or give you his rations and you didn’t even see the pedestal he put you on.” Kenny laughed and his men followed suit there mocks crawling up your spine, you felt your skin crawl trying not to be embarrassed. It was stupid to feel embarrassed by school yard taunts especially from Kenny, but it was getting to you.

“Are you done?” you sighed rolling your eyes, Kenny smirked and stepped forward until he was centimetres from you, he raised a dirty finger and ran it along your cheek you squirmed uncomfortably but stood your ground waiting for him to stop.

“Still have the usual sarcasm I see. Gotta say it’s a complete turn off but I suppose Levi would find that appealing.” he pulled his finger away and turned toward the tavern cupping his mouth his voice raising “Yo Levi! You mind sharing?”

From inside the tavern hidden under the bar Levi growled his fists clenching. Shit. He hadn’t meant it to go like this, you were supposed to be getting Eren and Historia back, Kenny wasn’t even meant to be here. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t expect you to come find him after the first gunshot, he would have done the same if the roles were reversed.

He was trying to think of a way out. The bar tender who stood shaking before him had a gun he could use, but it was a one pump shot gun and he would need one direct hit. How could he do that if Kenny was outside? He needed you to get Kenny inside the tavern, Kenny wouldn’t send someone else to kill his nephew the man was too prideful. He was just playing games with you but Levi knew Kenny wasn’t going to kill you so you were safe so far. He just needed to signal to you that he needed Kenny in the tavern to get a good hit. His eyes landed back on the mirror shard he had used to flash signals to you from the window, reaching up the the sunlight he began to move his hand the light bouncing through the window.

“Guess he doesn’t mind.” Kenny shrugged.

“I don’t need to take this from you.” you growled beginning to walk away, your blade cansiaters bumping against your leg as you moved, your hands clenched into tight fists as you turned your back on the man, you were halted in your tracks as one of Kenny’s men pressed a gun to the side of your head causing you to freeze as you held your hands up in a surrender position. It was in that moment you noticed the glint coming back from the window it’s flashes resembling morse code that you and Levi had taught each other, you knew what he needed you to do but you weren’t sure how.

If you played along it should be ok. Right? Kenny was unpredictable, you knew that trying to guess what he would do next would be pointless.

“What is that on your finger pretty girl?” Kenny asked his eyes lighting up at the gold band that rested on your left ring finger, the sun causing it to light up now it was out in the open. Kenny for the first time you had known him seemed genuinely surprised, his mouth twitching and his breath hitching in his throat ever slightly. “So who’s the lucky guy?”

“You’re smart figure it out.” you snapped at him, Kenny gestured for the gun be lowered, you sharply elbow the man who held the gun to your head in the ribs and fold your arms hiding the ring from view.

“Don’t tell me...don’t tell me...” Kenny cracked into a huge grin a condescending laugh ripping from his lips “looks like Levi did actually grow some after all. When was the wedding?”

“Three years ago.”

“Wow, time does fly doesn’t it? Welcome to the family I suppose. Is he any good? Can’t imagine a runt that small being much satisfaction to a girl like yourself.” Kenny bullied licking his chapped lips causing your eye to twitch in disgust. He was only doing it to get on yours and Levi’s nerves but tjebirge to punch someone has never been greater.

“Believe me Kenny, he does the job.” you growl feeling your patience begin to wear thin.

“Well this calls for a celebration drink doesn’t it?” Kenny cried out sliding to your side and wrapping a long arm around your shoulders squeezing you into his side and practically dragging you up the steps of the tavern “I was just going inside anyways to take care of a rodent infestation. You guys stay out here, we won’t be long.”

You didn’t protest as Kenny kicked open the swinging doors to the tavern, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floors all eyes on the two of you as you were pressed harder into his side. Your eyes scanned the area looking for your lover trying to workout what he had in mind, you knew that whatever it was you needed to get away from Kenny before it happened.

From under the bar Levi felt his heart stop slightly at the sight of his uncle’s reflection in the bottles that lined the shelves of the bar. He could clearly make out you being squeezed into his side and he felt a jolt of anger ripple through him at the thought of Kenny having his arm around you. It was death penalty alone to touch a Captain of the Survey Corps spouse in an aggressive hold, but to touch Levi’s spouse in anyway he deemed a threat was rewarded with more then death. There was nothing much he could do though in his situation, Levi quietly cocked the gun that he clutched to his chest waiting patiently for his next move.

“Yo Levi!” Kenny yelled causing you to wince at his volume “how come I wasn’t invited to the wedding? Hurt my feelings ya know.”

At no reply you heard Kenny growl to himself before he let you drop to the floor, you landed groaning in slight pain as your body hit the hard floor, you froze when you felt one of Kenny’s pistols be placed against your temple. When did you become such a damsel? Oh right when you impulsively came over to save your husband. You would never learn. You couldn’t do anything without being shot, you have to wait for Levi to whoop ass.

“It’s ok, I’ve forgiven the both of you.” Kenny said dryly clicking the pistol pressing it deeper into your temple his finger twitching on the trigger, Levi felt his heart begin to squirm in his chest anger crippling his thoughts, his eye brow twitched with pent up hostility as he watched the reflection of his beloved wife at the feet of his cynical uncle with his gun pressed to her head “maybe I’ll visit for the baby shower, you don’t mind do you sweetheart.”

Levi’s breath hitches in his throat as he watched Kenny lean down to whisper the last part into your ear, you visually shuddered and as much as Levi wanted to act now he needed Kenny to be standing and closer in range. The captain was poised waiting under the bar to use the gun the second it was appropriate, the bar tender still shaking violently in fear. His steely eyes never leaving the bottle that reflected what was happening behind him, he watched as Kenny stood up straight and began to move forward his gun still aimed at you.

“Come on Levi I won’t hurt you. Just a family reunion.” Kenny cackled.

“Hey Kenny...” Levi drawled, his uncle froze his eyes widening at the sound of his nephews voice “don’t touch my wife again.”

Before Kenny could comprehend what was going to happen Levi reaches his arms over the top of his head slamming the gun against the bar his eyes trained on the figure in the bottle and pulled the trigger. The gun spat out a bullet, the impact sending Kenny flying backwards out through the doors into the street, thinking quickly you sprung to your feet and grabbed a bar stool as Levi hopped over the bar too grabbing his own bar stool before you both threw them out the windows, glass shattering everywhere followed by more gunshots as Kenny’s military police began to fire at the inanimate objects.

You and Levi both waited your backs pressed against each other , his foot tapping the floor to signal what he wanted you to do and you nodded . Finally the last of the gun shots calmed down and your hands flittered over your ODM grapples getting ready to carry through the plan.

“What? Is that a chair?”

“They both are!”

At that moment you launched your grappling hooks flying through the window, Levi crashing through the opposite one, both your grappling hooks flying through the body of the enemy as you were pulled onto the roof your blades quickly cutting down the enemies their blood filling the air, their panicked cries ripping through your ears as you were propelled over the roof, Levi mimicking your actions as you were launched into the sky letting your grapples detach.

You were flying it seemed, the world below you like a model town before gravity pulled you back towards the ground, the wind howling your blades readied to strike at the military police members who were also airborne. Gritting your teeth you spun trough the air, your blades slicing the flesh of your enemies their bodies falling limp the ground, scarlet blood stained your face and clothing as you landed sharply on a roof the bodies lauded out around you. Levi landed beside you, his eyes not giving away whatever thoughts were churning in his mind, he looked up to you his brow furrowed slightly.

“Where are the others?”

“Getting Eren and Historia back, should be east from here.” you replied wiping your sticky blade handles on your cloak, Levi nodded his gaze shifting to Kenny who lay unconscious on the floor.

“Levi?” you asked staring at your husband with slight worry, Levi didn’t want Kenny dead. He couldn’t ever really want the man who had taught him to survive be killed, but you knew your husband didn’t forgive him for leaving him on the streets with you by yourselves. You didn’t know what to expect from your beloved at this point, would he kill Kenny? Or leave him be? It wasn’t like he had the luxury of time to decide, you would make the choice for him.

You slowly walked over to where your husband stood, his steely gaze still trained on the man on the ground. Gently you raised a hand tugging on his arm, he flicked slightly and looked over to you, his jaw unclenching and his body relaxed.

“Come on, we have bigger issues.” you soothed, he nodded ripping his gaze from his uncle and and turning to walk off the rooftop with you, you shot him a small smile and readied your gear to fly towards where the others needed your assistance. However just as your grapples were about to be released you felt a firm grasp on your arm, before you could work out what was happening Levi had spun your round into his arms your lips locking with his own, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulled you into him, his lips gently pushing against yours as his tongue roamed your mouth, his fingers grasping your white shirt tightly as your hands pressed into his firm pectorals. The kiss was gentle and loving, you could almost taste the relief he felt that you were ok and that Kenny hadn’t harmed you. Your legs grew slightly weak as he deepened the kiss, your hands looping around his neck to pull on his raven hair, pushing your bodies closer together.

You gently pulled away his hands still gripping your shirt, and strong arms around you in a protective grip. He rested his forehead against your own, blood from your skin staining his, but he isn’t seem to mind. It seemed like forever had passed before he broke away, launching his grapples into a nearby building and disappeared round a corner. You stood there on the roof still in slight shock at your husbands actions, you figured he must have been worried if he was open to kiss you like that in such a time consumed mission. But you didn’t have time to worry about now, sighing you unleashed your grapples, the wires hissing as they clamped onto a building your harness pulling against your body as you were whisked into the air.

Down on the ground Kenny peeler his eyes opens catching a glimpse of your retreating figure a smirk on his face, his hand reaching up to flock his hat further up his head.

“Well done Levi. You might not be such a disappointment after all.”

...

Ugh I kind of hate it but if you enjoyed it then thanks. Thank you again to my new followers I really appreciate it. If you enjoyed this and want to see more crappy things like this then follow and like, if not I get it it’s all chill. Enjoy your day.

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From Green to Blue

Summary:

When you look into his eyes, all you see is indifference. But when he looks at her, all you see is love.

Chapter One: Dull green eyes

Eren leaves you for your best friend. As you wander the cold streets of Shiganshina, you wonder were everything went wrong.

Chapter 2: She has his heart

You have yet another reminder that Hannah has his heart.

Chapter 3: Hannah's story

Hannah's side of the story.

Chapter 4: What you have

Armin and Hannah team up to help you.

Chapter 5: Memories

You reminisce with Armin about your relationships. And Biannca confronts Hannah and Eren.

Chapter 6: Prelude to confrontation

After seeing Biannca, you decide to confront Eren and Hannah.

Chapter 7: Confrontation

You suddenly feel nothing.

Chapter 8: Darkness before the light

The death of a love.

Chapter 9: Darkness

You think of white walls, the suffocating remembrance of your childhood. You finally say goodbye to Eren.

Chapter 10: Indifference

Slowly Hannah sees the light go out of Eren's eyes. And wherever she goes, pieces of Y/n's remains.

Chapter 11: Kind of dizzy

You leave behind the golden sunset and mountains. It is back to the grey city for you. The white walls close in on you. And that is when your world collapses.

A new revaluation changes everything.

Chapter 12: Reminiscence

After realizing nothing will be the same again, Eren reminiscences about the past.

Chapter 13: Hell

You prepare for your confrontation with Eren and Hannah.

Chapter 14: Breaking point

Everything falls apart for Hannah.

Chapter 15: Into the cage

Eren makes an offer that your just might take.

Chapter 16: Fear

You move in with Eren.

Chapter 17: Blurred and buried

Being back in the apartment makes you relapse, with the bit of progress you made evaporating. You start to lose yourself. The memories you hold are blurred and buried.

Chapter 18: Reopening old wounds

You think back on how your intimacy with Eren is forever sullied. Meanwhile, Eren feels old feelings reawaken.

Chapter 19: Compelled

Summary: The thoughts of Eren with another woman compel you to act, or rather, self-destruct.

Chapter 20: Time passes

Hannah reflects.

Chapter 21: A mother's shadow

You had never felt more lonely. Even after doing what you think is right, everything feels wrong. Armin then drops by and the two of you have an important conversation.

The first thing you remembered when seeing Eren was his eyes. You never remembered seeing eyes that green. It was those eyes that drew your attention to him. Those eyes that brew you into him. You remembered the way he looked at you. It gave you a feeling of euphoria that you thought would last forever. But recently, that has faded. Now when he looked at you with indifference. You weren’t sure when this had happened. You chalked it up to Eren having a hard time at work. It started with him being distant. You tried talking with him, but he would blow you off. Then he would leave at all hours and not answer your calls. It was at that point that you wondered if he was seeing someone. But every time you tried to speak to him about it, you were called paranoid. That was where you were naïve. Because now he only looked at her with those eyes.

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DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST [CHAPTER LIST]

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

FIRST FANFIC SO EXPECT THE LOW QUALITY WRITING.

It’s always the nightmares, really. Entrapped with walls, human-eating giants, fighting through metal strings and swords — utterly violent, dreary, recurrent. But behind the blurry faces was a man with menacing blue eyes and vivid features; eventually appearing before you as your new reputable professor, Erwin Smith. Since then, the disaster had slipped beyond your subconscious. AO3 | FANFICTION

TAGS: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, eventual smut, mutual pining, alternate universe - canon divergence, alternate universe - college/university, professor erwin smith, commander erwin smith, non-linear narrative, manga spoilers

WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, graphic description, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, trauma, suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced sexual harassment, implied/referenced abuse, attempted murder, overdosing

WORDS: 170k

PUBLISHED: July 19, 2021 ▪︎ COMPLETED: August 8, 2022

Keep reading

DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST [CHAPTER LIST]

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

FIRST FANFIC SO EXPECT THE LOW QUALITY WRITING.

It’s always the nightmares, really. Entrapped with walls, human-eating giants, fighting through metal strings and swords — utterly violent, dreary, recurrent. But behind the blurry faces was a man with menacing blue eyes and vivid features; eventually appearing before you as your new reputable professor, Erwin Smith. Since then, the disaster had slipped beyond your subconscious. AO3 | FANFICTION

TAGS: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, eventual smut, mutual pining, alternate universe - canon divergence, alternate universe - college/university, professor erwin smith, commander erwin smith, non-linear narrative, manga spoilers

WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, graphic description, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, trauma, suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced sexual harassment, implied/referenced abuse, attempted murder, overdosing

WORDS: 170k

PUBLISHED: July 19, 2021 ▪︎ COMPLETED: August 8, 2022

Keep reading

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be - Erwin Smith x fem!Reader Soulmate!AU

A/N ; Straight up this was the second thing I've ever written in the realm of fanfiction so it sucks and I mean that. But I was urged to post it. So. Here it is~! *jazz hands*. I still really like the concept, maybe I'll rewrite it in the future?

Warnings ; angst, fem!reader, soulmate!au, POV switching

Summary ; Soulmate AU - the name of your soulmate appears as a tattoo on your wrist. Everything else is the same. In which you're a pianist, and Erwin is married to his job and you find each other anyway.

Words ; 3.5k

You idly trace the words written on your wrist. You’d committed them to memory long ago, but still found yourself captivated by them. Erwin Smith. The name of your soul mate.

How cruel.

Like all children and teenagers, you were so excited about finding your soul mate, mind swimming with possibilities. I hope he’s tall, I hope he’s handsome, I hope he adores me.

But you never met him. Not after blossoming into a beautiful young woman. Not after taking up interest in learning piano and singing. Not after your friend noticed your playing and offered you a permanent job performing at her bar. You never even heard his name in passing, and gradually you started to give up hope.

Some things just weren’t meant to be.

So, you played your heart out, singing songs for the love you’d never have. Unable to look into the crowd, so you’d turned your back to them. The thought of seeing his face in the crowd, so close but so far out of your reach, was too much to bear. So, you kept your focus on the piano, the singing, the playing. Every night.

Your heart fluttered when you first read his name. Finally, after all this time. It was the headline in this week’s paper: Erwin Smith promoted to 13th Survey Corps Commander. You read that article every day for the first few weeks. It was finally something, some shred of hope that it wasn’t a fluke and the man whose name darkened your wrist was out there, somewhere. Tangible. Alive.

You were there for his first expedition beyond the walls, just like many other citizens. Truthfully, you’d never had much interest in watching the scouts, until now, but you found yourself in the sea of people. Eagerly scanning the rows of horses and green cloaks.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw him for the first time. Gods, he was gorgeous. Even from your vantage you could tell how tall he was. Blond hair neatly party and combed, strong features, and the most stunning blue eyes you had ever seen. He was everything. He shone brightly like the sun. And you might lose him before you even get to meet him, you realized. The mortality rate of expeditions was…bad.

This point was driven home by the whispers all around you. Talk of how this new commander wouldn’t change anything. How they should just shut the scouts down. How someone’s son had been unfortunate enough to die beyond the walls… Your heart squeezed, and you said a silent prayer that he would return safely.

You were there when they returned, too. Beaten, bruised, morose, but alive. Whole…mostly. And you thanked the gods as you ignored the whispers. His features looked more ragged, the lines under his eyes deeper, exhausted. You wanted so badly to rush to him, to tell him…what exactly? Reassuring him? Anything to ease the hurt that was plastered across his face.

In fact, you started to before someone’s musings found you. “I sure am glad that Erwin Smith is the new commander, I heard the death toll went down significantly for this excursion. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have any distractions and can stay so focused. You know I heard he hasn’t found his soul mate yet, is it wrong for me to hope that never happens? That way he can devote all of himself to saving humanity. Maybe he could be our savior, maybe people will see the benefit of the Scouts with him at the helm.”

Your heart sank. Oh.

They had a point, and you froze. You would just be a distraction. You would get in the way. If he had his mind split between you and humanity…well. Humanity was more important, wasn’t it? Their goal of learning the truth and trying to save everyone from those damned Titans. That was more important. The needs of the many over the needs of the few, right? Humanity was more important than the night’s you’d soon spend crying yourself to sleep, or anxiously waiting for his return. It was more important than the heartache that would never go away, knowing you could never be together.

You steadied your resolve. Humanity was more important than just one person, you could do this. You could take this heartbreak for the greater good. You silently absolved him of any duty to find you, in your way this would be your first and only gift to him: freedom from you. Freedom from the shackles of your love for him, so that he could fight for humanity’s sake.

How cruel.

The years that followed went by rather uneventfully. You’d been there for every excursion, and every return, always sending silent prayers for his safe return. You scanned the newspapers, clipping every article that so much as said his name, keeping them taped around your vanity in the powder room behind the bar. A solemn reminder. You watched as he addressed the gathered crowds, booming voice echoing in your chest and reverberating around your mind long after he’d stopped speaking. You loved him from afar, and that had to be good enough.

In all the world you only ever had eyes for him, and he was so far out of your reach.

This evening was the same as so many others. You sat at your vanity, putting your face on for tonight’s performance, trying not to reread those clipped articles for the thousandth time, when your friend approached you. She was tall and beautiful and quick of wit. You’d confessed to her your feelings for Erwin, and she’d supported your decision to stay away from him. She was the one who suggested pushing your piano against the far end of the stage, keeping your back to the crowd. You were so grateful to her.

“How was their return today ___?” she asked, placing her hands on your shoulders and looking at you in the reflection of the mirror. “Good. He looked good, whole. That’s as much as I could hope for.” You smiled weakly, remembering the somber and stoic look on his face. “And you’ve still not tried to even talk to him, huh?”

“No, you know I won’t-I can’t.”

“But you could. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him, even barring the soul mate thing. I know your heart bleeds for him. You shouldn’t have to suffer because of this stupid idea you got in your head that you’d just be a burden or a distraction or whatever. You’re just as important as his job, ____. You deserve to be happy…” You ignored the tightness in your chest. “Humanity is more important. His job is more important. It’s better this way.”

“Then why don’t you try to face the crowd tonight? If you’re so resolved to suffer alone then seeing his face could bring closure to you.”

Maybe, you mused. But as you imagined seeing him watching you play the songs that were for him-always for him-you felt tears stinging the back of your eyes. Not tonight. Seeing him in person left you feeling too raw, the temptation to reach out to him and confess everything was too great. You couldn’t maintain your distance if you saw him tonight. So, you kept your back to the crowd, just like every other night. And sang all the songs you’d written for him, about him, just like every other night.

How cruel.

Erwin

He hadn’t intended on entering the crowded bar, even if it was a classier joint. Especially not since they’d just returned today, and he longed to rest his aching muscles and sore injuries. However, the divine sound that permeated the cool evening air drew him in. It was beautiful and sad, and he felt in his bones the melancholy of the words she sang.

Standing far back, just inside the door, he scanned the room. People crowded around everywhere, drinking and talking, roars of laughter and amiable chatter filled the room. The lighting was dim, a single spotlight trained on the humble stage where sat a lone pianist with her back to the crowd. She played beautifully, singing words of love and loss and longing that flitted through the crowd. Some were captivated, others uninterested. But he…he was enamored.

Without realizing it he’d pushed his way to the stages, eyes fixated on her. She wore a sequined red dress that scooped low down her back, revealing just enough of her feminine curves to keep him trained on her. On the subtle motions and breaths as she played. She never once turned to greet him, but he watched her all the same; entranced.

How long did he stay like this? Long after the crowd had dispersed, and the bar was quiet. Only him, the barkeeper, a few meandering souls, and her. He stayed until she finished her set and exited the stage. He had to meet her. This alluring woman that had so captivated him, made all the worry and stress and pain melt away as he watched her and listened to her songs. He had to know her name.

The barkeep stopped him as he wandered towards the powder room.

“Sorry, sir. Employees only.”

“Ah, apologies. Can I ask? Who is that woman?”

She gave him a pained smile and led him to the now empty bar. “What are you drinking, Commander?”

“So, you know me?” he questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

“Sir, everyone in this bar knows you.” He scoffed, brushing it off as because of his status as Commander.

“Whisky. Neat. Thanks.” She deftly poured him two fingers of the top shelf and slid it across the bar. Erwin downed the drink gratefully, letting the familiar burn take the edge off.

“She is our little songbird. Lovely, isn’t she?”

He nodded, “Yes but she…. she seems so melancholic.”

“She is. All her life she’d dreamt of her soul mate, as most girls do, but over the last few years she’s given up hope, resolving herself to a life of solitude. My heart aches for her.”

“I take it she’s shared the name with you?” He asked, idly thumbing the name on his own wrist.

“Oh, yes sir. Even despite herself she still looks out for him. Talks about his work and accomplishments, prays for his safety…”

“So, she does know him?”

“Yes. He is in the public eye, but he does not know her,” she said, trying not to give away too much, “How could he? What are the odds that someone of his rank would find themselves in this place, anyway?”

“If that’s true…why hasn’t she tried reaching out to him?”

She sighed heavily, “Commander,” she started, leaning in, “would you like to meet her? She plays here every evening. I could introduce you.” Erwin pondered this, tracing the rim of his glass with his thumb. It couldn’t hurt right? Maybe they’d find some common ground, there. After all he’d never met his soul mate either. Maybe they could come to keep each other company on lonely nights….he was getting ahead of himself.

“I have to return to work early. I’ve stayed way passed the time for me to retire. My next day off is Saturday, though. Could I arrange a meeting with her, then?” “Of course, sir. I’ll tell her you were interested in her playing and wanted to speak about the songs she’s written. She doesn’t often take visitors, but I’m sure she’ll warm up at that.”

Erwin thanked her and left. He should have asked for her name, but it didn’t matter. Not really. He’d long since given up on finding the one, his job took priority over everything else, and it was better that way. It had to be. For Humanity's’ sake.

But he did feel a twinge of regret for never having looked for her. Surely, she was lonely and didn’t deserve this. But he didn’t have a choice, he’d convinced himself he could suffer no distractions.

You

Despite telling yourself you’d given up hope on him, you asked your friend every night if he was in the crowd. IF she’d seen a glimpse of him or heard his name on hushed whispers. Tonight was no different, though the tone in her voice when she denied you made you suspicious.

You brushed it off, though. It was surely nothing.

You would think you’d get tired of playing, since you do it every night, but when you returned home to your modest rental, you set about finishing up the song you were writing. A song for him, always for him. You planned on debuting it this Saturday, the busiest night of the week, so it had to be finished and refined by then.

You played long into the night, only making it to bed once the sun tipped over the horizon. Late nights were no stranger to you, especially since you kept bar hours. That night you dreamt of ocean-blue eyes.

The next few days passed uneventfully, just as they always did. You skimmed the newspaper for news on the most recent excursion, finding nothing. You finished your song in time for Saturday’s performance, and even picked out a special gown for the evening.

Come Saturday you felt the familiar nerves of performing a new song for the first time. The gown you’d picked was a beautiful blue, it hugged your curves perfectly, making you look like divinity on earth. You’d chosen this specific dress because it reminded you so much of the color of his eyes. Erwin’s eyes. The eyes of the soulmate who wasn’t meant to be.

You stared at your reflection where you sat at your vanity. Stupidly you hoped he’d be there tonight, like you did every night. And just like every night you told yourself he wouldn’t be, that to continue hoping against all odds was childish. That this was the way it should be: him protecting and serving humanity, and you keeping your distance and loving him from afar.

How cruel, this fate of yours. You eyed the name written across your wrist fought back the tears. After all these years he still made your heart bleed. He still made you crave him, long for him. You just couldn’t help yourself. You supposed that was what soul mates were supposed to do, anyway.

Like every night, you strode briskly on stage, making a point not to turn to the crowd. You made a show of elegantly sitting at your piano, just as always.

Erwin

Tonight was the night. The night he’d learn her name, talk to her, get to know the woman behind the piano. So alluring, so tragic. He wondered if he dressed up too much and removed the tie from his neck only to then retie it just to remove it again. He opted for a white button down, black trousers, dress shoes, and his bolo tie. Surely this would be enough, right? But he wanted their first moments together to be memorable.

As he took in his reflection, he wondered why it mattered so much to him. It wasn’t like she was his soul mate. Right? It couldn’t be. Not here. Not now. Not after everything.

The bar was even more crowded than last time, and he was grateful when the bar keep waved him over. She didn’t ask about his drink preferences, having remembered from before. He downed the whisky in a single drink, hoping that it would take the edge off the nerves he was feeling.

Let him fight a Titan or run a coup any day. But talking to a beautiful woman? That he had no experience with. That isn’t to say he wasn’t popular with women, he was. But he’d never given them more than a passing thought, always married to his work. Until now.

He’d never even seen her face, but her music-her songs- touched him deeply. He didn’t have to see her face or know her name to know that he would burn down the world for her. Soulmates be damned.

He watched her play, and as his eyes were trained on her, the sights, smells, sounds of the bar faded away. It was as if she were the only other person in the world, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was nice to lose himself in something that wasn’t work, for once.

The music stopped, luring him out of his trance. He’d made his way to the stage again, leaning against his elbow.

“This last song,” she spoke. This was the first time he’d heard her speak, and it was just as stunning as her singing, “is dedicated to the man whose name marks my wrist. To the man who I know I can never have, who I have made peace with loving from afar. This song I wrote for him, about him, and I hope that some day my words will reach him. Thank you for listening to me play, tonight.”

Her song started, dreamy and emotional. Her vocals were soft and powerful. She sang about watching him for such a long time, and how enraptured she’d been with the blue of his eyes. How his passion and drive not only made her fall more and more in love with him, but also how it broke her heart, knowing they could never be together. She sang about being afraid to feel this way, but that she wouldn’t have it any other way because despite it, she still loved him.

As he watched her, he ignored the single tear that streaked down his cheek. He could feel the pain in her words. Feel the sorrow in her voice. He wanted to leap onto the stage and crush her against himself and kiss away all that melancholy. It was not lost on him that the man in the song had the same color eyes as him, though he didn’t have the mind to process that in the moment.

He snapped back to reality when he saw her shudder.

You

You couldn’t help it. This song you’d written for him, the words you’d sang, they still tugged at your heartstrings. The emotions behind it were still too raw, and as the song ended and the lights faded, you succumbed to the sobs that wracked your body. You prayed that nobody would see.

You steadied yourself, you didn’t want to show this kind of weakness to this size of crowd, and stood to leave.

“Wait!” A voice called to you from the opposite side of the stage, stopping you in your tracks. It sounded so familiar…too familiar. Your heart leapt into your throat as you slowly turned around.

You audibly gasped when you saw his face. Erwin. The same Erwin you had been watching and loving and longing for. Your soulmate, Erwin. He’d called out to you, climbing on stage to jog over to you. Your mouth gaped as you tried to find words. Any words. What was he doing here? Why was he here, now? Did he listen to your song? Did he know you were his soul mate? So many questions flitted through your mind that you didn’t even notice the hush fall over the bar.

All eyes were trained on you two.

“I-“he started, looking down at you. He was so tall, gods so much taller than you could have imagined. He cleared his throat. “Why are you crying?” he said finally, reaching up to gently wipe away the tears that streamed down your face. You blinked, searching his eyes. The eyes you’d just sang about.

“B-Because…” you drew in a shaky breath. How could you explain it all? Was now even the time for that? Why had he reached out to you so suddenly, anyway? You didn’t even really know what was going on. One thing could make him understand, you realized. One thing could say more than your words could.

You stretched your arm out to him, watching his expression change as he read his name on your wrist. His eyes widened in realization, his expression softening. The crowd was completely silent now, watching the scene unfold.

“You’ve been waiting for me,” he said softly, cupping your cheek and holding your hand, “All this time, you were here. And you’ve been waiting for me.” “Erwin,” you breathed, and your heart soared with the way he smiled at hearing his name on your voice.

Softly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he leaned into you, planting a ginger kiss on your soft lips. You melted into him, and you wanted nothing more than to get lost in him. The applause that ringed out through the bar startled you both out of your moment. They’d been waiting for this. There wasn’t a regular in this bar that didn’t know the name on your wrist, and your sense of duty to remain in the shadows. And there wasn’t a soul in this bar that wasn’t glad and relieved that you’d finally found each other.

Blushing, embarrassed, and giggling like schoolchildren, you and Erwin made your way off stage and into the powder room.

“We have a lot to talk about,” he beamed at you, making your heart flutter. “Yes, we do.”

He didn’t tell you that the smile you gave him that night nearly brought him to tears.

— get you

featured: college!Eren x afab!reader x college!Levi, Mikasa Ackerman, Sasha Braus, Louise (canon Yeagerist)

cw: modern!au, slight fluff if you really squint, suggestive content, minors dni, toxic dynamics, possessiveness, cursing

synopsis: the life of a college student is already hard enough as it is with classes, homework, and lectures so why not add a complicated love triangle as well?

a/n: this is a repost !! I’ve written this before but decided to go back and re-edit it :) to everyone who’s read this before I hope you all enjoy this improved version!

Eren fucking Yeager.

The college campus’ fuckboy and the literal bane of your existence.

Eren has been the thorn in your side since you were both assigned dorm mates at the beginning of your junior year of college. Sure, you’ve heard of the infamous name he set out for himself as the ruthless ‘Attack Titan’ in your school's football team, and you were fully aware of his cold and narcissistic personality but hey, who were you to judge a book by its reviews, right? So you made the mistake of ever being kind to him when you first introduced yourself only to be met by desolate green eyes and a scoff. Not to mention he had the audacity to give you ‘house rules’ which basically summarized to cleaning the dorm and staying out of his way. No, Eren almost never spared you small talk or even pretended to tolerate your mere existence. Why? Who fucking knows. Honestly, you firmly believed the brunette was born with a vendetta against you — every day striving and scheming to better his tactics in making your life miserable like some ripoff supervillain. But worst of all is the fact he seemed to make a habit of following you around campus like some lost puppy. You’d think someone who supposedly hates you would do anything to keep themselves away, right? Wrong. He thrived off bickering, insulting, and annoying you at any chance he got. Weirdly enough, no matter how many times you prayed someone would approach you to give you reason to ditch him, everyone always seemed to particularly steer clear from you when he was with you. Almost as if they were too afraid to even look your way, let alone talk to you. But I guess that could all be chalked up to Erens possessive behavior; his sinister stare and malicious intent were ever present anytime anyone dared get close to you. Not that you would know though, no, you were far too busy rolling your eyes and thinking of witty comebacks or insults. Unknowingly, making it easier to keep you all to himself.

Silly girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The echo of a blunt object clamoring to the floor abruptly stirred you from your peaceful slumber as the sound of it rolling on the hardwood floor rattled through the cramped dorm. Sitting up from your resting position you outwardly groaned as you rubbed the sleep off your eyes, “What the hell?” you sighed. Snatching your phone from its charging port you checked the time, squinting your eyes at the sudden brightness, “5:06 a.m?” Huffing in annoyance your jaw clenched as you glared at the door, already starting bright and early this morning huh you asshole, throwing your legs off the bed you groggily made your way out your bedroom door. Fuming at the fact you were forced to wake up so early after pulling an all-nighter studying last night; which, by the way, was already hard to do with Eren and his friends cluttering around the living room all night.

“What do you think you’re doi—“ your voice came to a complete halt when your eyes landed on an opened package and your recently delivered figurine displaced out of its box and lying on the floor. And to add insult to injury there stood Erens number one psycho of a fan, Louise. Giggling to herself as she kicked what would’ve been your most prized possession away from her. “What.. what are you doing…?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your eyes remained focused on your figurine. The same figurine you excitedly pre-ordered a year ago. You couldn’t even afford to eat for a month afterward because of how much you spent on it and now there it was being kicked around by some desperate pest? So balling your hands into fists you marched over and shoved Louise aside to see the damage she had caused. But your anger only ignited when you saw your favorite character's weapon broken in half and their stand shattered to pieces. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed as you bent down to sorrowfully try to connect the shattered pieces together. You were tired. So tired of this. Carefully tightening your hold on the broken pieces; you hated how you felt like you could cry from frustration. “Oops~” was all Louise bothered herself to say in response to her crime. Quietly, almost too calmly, you spoke, “… What did you just say?” “I said ‘oops’,” she cheekily replied, “besides, it’s not my fault you leave around boxes for anyone to touch.” Resting her hand on her hip she smirked down at you, “If you really cared so much about your little dolls then you shouldn’t have been so irresponsible~ heh, hope you learned your lesson.”

Standing up from your crouched position, you side-eyed Louise with a piercing, almost eerily, hyper-focused glare. This is it, you thought before clenching your fists and raising your arm, intent on actually beating her until your knuckles ached. But before you could swing, you felt a cautious grip on your wrist and a firm hold on your hip. Everything moved so fast, you didn’t even get to acknowledge the fingertips that slid up to the hem of your latex shorts before you found yourself spun and placed behind Eren. Staring up at him you blinked a few times. “Don’t get so heated.” He spat, with a disinterest in his tone almost mocking your apprehensive reaction, “She’s my guest.” He cocked his head at you with a sarcastic smile, and god did your eye twitch. It made your stomach churn and skin crawl knowing what he meant by that, and it… hurt. Shaking your thoughts, you swat his hands off of you, and scowled at the man towering over you, daring to defend the rat responsible for all of this. Dryly you scoffed, “She’s just another fuck-buddy you bring in here ren.” Crossing your arms together you continued your jeering, “You make a mess wherever you go and you even have the audacity to drag in trash? Tch. Please.” But, oh how naive you are to not notice. The glint of amusement reflecting off Erens emerald eyes just from the venom in your tone; it makes his dick twitch. He shifts a little uncomfortably trying to ease himself before exasperatedly sighing. “Well dove,” he begins as he starts to circle around you, “maybe if you weren’t such a self-righteous prude I wouldn’t have to bring girls in here…” stopping right in front of you he leaned down to reach eye-level, his taunting gaze only inches away from you as he lowly growled out, “I could just fuck you instead.”

Truth be told, Eren knew he was full of it — straight up lying through his teeth every time he told you he didn’t want you. In reality, the man was absolutely obsessed with you and anyone with eyes could see it, everyone except you. But unfortunately, Eren isn’t the type to admit his feelings so freely, let alone submit to his emotions. No, he was too prideful for that. Don’t be too harsh on him though, I mean, the idiot hasn’t even figured out himself what it is he feels for you. It could be part of the reason why he’s so particularly hostile with you, and why he’s equally possessive. Not to mention that Eren has been the object of many’s affection since he could remember; as in he’s never not had what he did or didn’t want. He learned early on that personality and sincerity isn’t anything more than currency in this world, and he abides by that principle. So to have someone like you, who’s breathtakingly mesmerizing, compassionate, intelligent, interesting, funny, and well, you, is completely left field for this playboy. You’re everything he thought wasn’t possible. You contradict his entire worldview of people. How could he not resent you — or fall for you all the same? He hates it.

However, as of now, all you know is that you’re fed up with this situation. Pushing past them to grab your keys and hoodie, you turned around and stormed through the front door. Did you know where you were going? Not a clue. But you sure as hell aren’t going to be anywhere near here. Anywhere near him. Walking out the door you heard Louise’s cackling laugh practically grating your ears and it only made your blood simmer further as you slammed the door behind you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’ve told you to speak to the Dean and ask for another dorm mate,” sighing as she stirred her coffee with a spoon, her dark eyes flickered up at you, “I’m sure if you explain your situation to him he’ll be more likely to accept your proposal.” Anxiously combing your hair back, you groaned at your best friend's advice, “Mikasa don’t you think I’ve already tried that?” Dramatically throwing your arms on the diner's table, you buried your face in your arms, “The Dean only has a strict appointment-based schedule,” with a pout you lift your head up slightly, “and the waiting list spans for the next four months!” Tucking your head back to sulk, Mikasa hummed in acknowledgment, but that’s when your other friend spoke up. “Then why don’t you try talking to his assistant?” Snapping your head up, you stare questioningly at Sasha as she shoved another beignet in her mouth, “Yeah but —mmph — what’s his name again?” “Levi.” Mikasa chimed in, “Levi Ackerman.” Levi Ackerman..?, you thought, Why does that name sound so familiar? But you didn’t get long to think about it before Sasha excitedly shouted out, “Yes—! Levi!” Putting her fork down she rubbed her chin in contemplation, “Huh, I heard he’s kind of a total jerk though, and everyone who’s ever met up with him spirals into some sort of existential crisis…” Mikasa kicked Sasha from under the table as she nodded in your direction, “O-oh! But um.. I mean how bad could he be, right?” Trying to nervously wave off what she said, Sasha patted you on the head, “You’ll be fine, y/n!”

I’ll be fine? Groaning again, you leaned your cheek on your hand as you looked at the people chatting or studying at their tables. “Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice..” which to an extent is true. You either continue to put up with Eren until you eventually get an appointment with the Dean, or you talk to Levi Ackerman and hope you don’t spiral. That name though…, you pondered, Why do I know it? Smearing around the egg yolk on your avocado toast you glanced up at your friends. “Hey, why does that Levi name sound so familiar? Do we know him or something?” “Yes and no.” Sasha answered, “You’ve heard his name before because he’s that super mysterious senior everyone’s afraid of.” “He’s been the leader of the Honors Society since he was a sophomore, and he’s top-ranking academically in the country.” Mikasa added. Thinking to yourself you finally remembered, “Oh! That’s right!” You triumphantly chirped until it dawned on you what you remembered. Noticing the dread in your eyes Sasha laughed, “Mhm, you definitely look like you remember now~” “He’s that academic thug…” sinking into your chair you genuinely began to wonder who you crossed in your past life to deserve this, I probably helped commit genocide or something…, “Yeah, he’s gotten into a few fights but it’s always settled within reason.” “Pft, c’mon Mikasa, the schools probably too scared to punish its most valuable student.” Sasha snorted. “Hm. You might have a point, but it’s usually ruffians who feel they have something to prove that challenge him,” Mikasa pointed out, “He also hangs around his small clique. I think, our seniors like Petra, Eld, Gunther, Olou, and Hange.” “See y/n! How bad could he be if he hangs out with them?” Sighing, you smiled at your two closest friends and their attempt at making you feel better. “Yeah, you guys are right,” finishing your latte, you beamed down at them, “I’m gonna kick today's ass!”

After the three of you waved your goodbyes, you set off to go find the very man you only hear of through quiet whispers. Honestly, with all the mystery shrouding him you really started to believe he was some sort of urban legend the school came up with. Kind of like ‘if you don’t do your homework, Levi Ackerman will show up in your closet’ type of thing, you know? With an exasperated sigh, you look down at your clothes. Great. I’m about to meet the guy who’s also known for his ocd in a jujutsu keisen hoodie, spandex shorts, and crocs.. Sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck, you stared up at the birds flying above you, I wish I could live freely like them… Longingly looking up, you snap out of your thoughts as you approached the administrative office. Well, I promised Sasha and Mikasa I’d do this so.. here I go. Stepping into the front office you began your unexpected hour-and-a-half-long journey being sent practically all across campus in search of this Levi guy. You went from office to office, met up with more people than you’ve probably spoken to in the last two weeks, and wasted time waiting around for people who ended up either not knowing where he is or sending you back across campus. Until finally you made it to the science research facility building where you tiredly dragged yourself toward the receptionist’s desk. “Please..” you heaved, “Please tell me… *gasp of air* tell me Levi Ackerman is in this building!” Your eyes pleaded at the poor, spooked old lady as she stared at you. “Oh honey, please have a seat!” She scurried next to you and guided you to sit down, “He’s tucked away in the computer lab right now, let me go notify him!” Grabbing her arm, you peered into her eyes, “He’s here?” “Y-yes!” Nervously laughing, she placed her hand on top of yours, “You know what? How about you come with me. He’ll most likely decline your visit if I notify him.” And with that, you made your final trudge with the old lady you managed to scare into personally leading you to Levi.

“Alrighty sweetheart, this is him.” Pointing toward a large door, the receptionist politely smiled at you before hurrying back to her desk and leaving you all alone. Glancing at the wooden door, you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Okay… I um.. I made it this far, right? You tried to reassure yourself but the longer you stared at the door, the more your imagination ran rampant. What if he’s big and terrifying looking? You imagined a tall, ogre-looking man, Or what if he’s a total creep? Then some balding guy who resembled a mole. If ren were here I wouldn’t feel so intimid—huh? Ren? Shuddering at your thoughts, you took a deep inhale, Alright, clearly the longer I stand here the more I’m beginning to lose it, so with a little pep-talk you figured you might as well rip the bandaid. Twisting the handle, you carefully pushed open the door and peeked inside. The entire room was almost the size of an entire lecture hall but filled with neat rows of computers. Wow… you thought as you opened the door further to step inside. Looking around the room in amazement, you immediately stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure sitting at the front of the room reading a textbook with notebooks and papers stacked on the table. That must be him. Clearing your throat you decided to call out to him, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Levi Ackerman,” slowly walking up to him you tried to fill in the silence, “I’m assuming that’s you, right?” Closing in on the table he sat at, you managed to make out a head of black hair and.. and him drinking tea? Quirking a brow at the full tea set he had displayed, you spoke up again, “My names y/n. I wanted to talk to you about an issue I have and I was told you cou—“ “Get lost.” H-huh..? Did I mishear him? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but I—“ “If you don’t intend to offend me then go bother somebody else. I’m busy.” His voice was deep and monotone, clearly uninterested in what you had to say by the way he didn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you knitted your brows in irritation. Of course. Gritting your teeth, you strode right up to him and slammed your hand down on the desk, “You’re a tough guy to find, you know that?” You chuckled dryly, “Did you also know I spent the last two hours running around campus trying to find you? So no, I’m not leaving until you at least listen to what I have to say.” Setting his tea down, the raven-haired man finally turned to look at you, “Is that so?” He questioned, though it was clear the question was more rhetorical than genuine. With a long sigh, he swiveled his chair to completely face you; and then that’s when you flinched in surprise as you scanned him. He’s hot… you thought, Oh god, he’s hot..!? The man in question had inky black hair styled in an undercut, a complimentary choice when paired with his delicate yet sharp features. This definitely wasn’t what you expected. Even the dark circles under his eyes look good… A light blush began to creep up on your cheeks as you realized the commotion you just made in front of someone like him. All the while you stared in a flustered daze, Levi was languidly trailing his eyes across your body. Resting his head on his hand, he couldn’t deny he liked the sudden surprise presented to him. Huh.. he mused. “Well? What’s so damn important?” Straightening up at the sound of his voice, you smoothed out the wrinkles on your hoodie, “Oh! Yes, of course.. I’d like to propose a change of dorm mates.” Staring at him, the intensity in his eyes only worked to captivate you to him, “My… my roommate isn’t working out, and no matter what I try to do to civilize the situation it just doesn’t work out..” you ended, almost disappointingly. Levi hummed as he listened before standing up from his chair. “Is that what’s got you so worked up?” But something about his tone made you think he might’ve been referring to something else. “Why not go to the Dean?” He inquired as he slowly approached you, and you subconsciously took a few steps back until the back of your thighs hit a table behind you and you almost fell sitting on it. “The Dean has appointments booked all through the semester and since the matter is urgent I figured I’d reach out to his personal assistant.” The fact you managed to jumble that out without stuttering was a blessing in itself. “I see.” Narrowing his eyes on you he continued, “Then I guess I have no choice but to agree if it’s so urgent.” Blinking a few times you took a moment to process his words, Is he agreeing to help me? “Meet me later this evening to discuss the details,” his expression remained unchanged but you caught glimpse of the glimmer in his silver eyes as he stared at you, “I assume 7 works for you?” “7..?” You muttered, “Ah, yes, of course!” “Great. I’ll escort you then. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he closed in on your body and reached an arm past your waist, his lips inches away from your ear as he leaned in, “I have other matters to attend to.” Your body stiffened and your breath hitched until he pulled back with a notebook in his hand. He was.. just reaching for his notebook..? Nodding your head in agreement you politely excused yourself and raced out of the room with a bright blush searing your skin as he watched slightly amused at your disappearing figure.

After exiting the computer lab, you stood there for a few seconds in a flustered haze. What the hell just happened? Brushing your fingertips across your cheek you tried to ease away the warmth on them. Heh, I’ve gotta tell Sasha and Mikasa about this! You giddily thought as you whipped out your phone and started typing in the group chat. And after a morning of lectures and labs without your backpack, you finally made it back to your dorm. Heaving a sigh, you slung yourself on the couch and peeked your eye to where your broken figurine last lay. It’s gone… You figured Eren must’ve thrown it away along with the rest of the trash before leaving for his afternoon classes. Grabbing a pillow you covered your face and screamed into the fabric before sitting up and punching it a few times in frustration. “Fuck—!” You loudly groaned out. Why does he have to be that way? Scrunching your face, you massaged the bridge of your nose to calm down, He’s a dick to everyone, sure, but why does he target me so much? Even after… Throwing the pillow to the other side of the couch you hastily stood up and checked the time. Whatever, you bitterly thought, it’ll all be over soon enough. So you brushed off the thought and jumped in the shower to get ready for tonight’s occasion.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rushing around your room, you turned your phone on to see 6:43 p.m. glaring at you. No, no, nononono—! Hissing in annoyance at your time management, you hurriedly slipped on a long, slit, silk skirt over your sheer tights. “Okay, alright, almooost done!” Grunting as you put on a pair of platform boots, you stood up and admired yourself in the mirror. “Heh,” you chuckled, “Elegant and fashionable with a touch of promiscuous.” After pulling a quick jojo pose in the mirror, you adjusted your open back top and strut through your bedroom door with an excited smile. But your smile immediately turned into a grimace when you caught sight of Eren and Louise lounging on the couch. Fucking bitch.. you internally sneered as you scrunched your nose in distaste. “Self-respect… and that goes for the both of them.” You mumbled under your breath. Forget it. Rummaging around the kitchen, you tried looking for your hand purse until an agitated voice called out to you.

“Shocked you’re not tryna run around empty-handed again since you had no problem with it this morning,” you could already see his irked frown, “and yeah I heard you’ve been taking a tour through campus by the way.” Roiling your eyes, you heard him shift as you clipped on your earrings, “I looked for you in the library to bring you your bag since apparently, you need everything done for y—“ widening his eyes, Erens jaw slacked as he eyed you. “…. fuck” he lowly muttered. He knew you were fine, he gets mesmerized by your beauty every day, but damn. Your leg peeking out of the silk fabric slit, and the way it’s tight fit complimented the curve of your ass was just too much for him. His mildew gaze trailed up to your open back top and he almost groaned at the slightest tease of side-boob. And just as he almost folded, he snapped out of it when he realized you were going out dressed like that. “Wait, where the fuck are you going?”

But Eren knew that wasn’t what he was really asking. No, what you wore never bothered him, in fact, he loved when you got all dolled up; let others look because he can fight — and he has, for you. What Eren was really asking was ‘Where the fuck are you going without me?’ ‘Who are you meeting?’ ‘Do you like them?’ ‘Would you forget me?’ Those were the real questions bouncing around in his head.

“Doesn’t matter.” Was all you replied, but the grip those two words had on him were like a vice. Leaning down to adjust your ankle bracelet, his eyes darted to the way your back subtly arched. He could already feel the tent growing in his pants, but he couldn’t be bothered to do something to hide it when all he could think about was how pretty you’d look stuffed full of him. He was desperate to touch you, feel you, claim you — just as desperate as he was to be owned by you, in every way, any way you’d allow him to be yours. Maybe you were just too dense for your own good. He tried his damndest to keep his composure as best as he could but his voice gave it away, “It’s a fucking date.” He snarled, low and threateningly. You glanced over at him, confused and infuriated at his audacity to interrogate you about where you were going or who you were meeting. “Doesn’t. Matter.” Both of you locked eyes as an intensity conflicted within his irises and a rage burned within yours. Scoffing, you turned on your heels, grabbed your purse, and walked toward the front door. Eren wanted to stand up and stop you, he wanted to do something anything but the pulsing ache in his pants kept him rooted to the couch. “Tell me who it is.” He demanded, and you finally reached your breaking point. Clenching your fists you turned your head and glared at Eren, “Hah. You’re really something, huh?” You condescendingly seethed, “You always bring in random girls in here almost every night and you have the fucking audacity to question me?” Reaching for the handle, you pushed open the door, “Don’t forget your place, Eren.” And his eyes widened at the use of his name, “And I won’t forget mine.” Slamming the door behind you, he felt his heart ache at the way your voice wavered when you said those last words. He wanted to argue, tell you that you’re wrong, that he’d do anything for you but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the door and lose himself in his thoughts.

Through the halls, you bitterly made your way outside the dormitory. Who the hell does he think he is? Roughly opening doors, you fumed, Acting like he owns me. Hah! If I didn’t know better I’d even think he cares about me. Bursting open the front doors of the dorm entrance you marched outside and hastily walked out of the dormitory district, What does he want from me? Seriously, I don’t understand him at all! You clutched your purse as you trembled with anger, He’s so confusing, ugh! He does things for me that make me feel special but then he… but then he acts like that! Like.. like Eren and I d— bumping into somebody, you stumbled back. Huh? Looking up you were surprised to see,

“Levi?”

“The hells wrong with you?” Steadying you with a hand around your arm, you didn’t realize he had grabbed you to keep you from falling, “Do you normally walk around like you’re ready to slice someone’s head off?” He asked, and you looked away in embarrassment, “.. sorry.” “Clearly whoever you’re so damn angry with should be the one apologizing,” letting go of your arm he sardonically added, “or it’s their funeral.” Covering your mouth, you laughed at his words, and his attention focused on the sound. Pretty.. he thought. Easing from your laughter, you looked up at him with a cheery smile, “Thank you for going out of your way to wait for me, I’m sorry I’m a little late.” “Yeah.. don’t-um..,” clearing his throat, Levi averted his gaze from yours, “Don’t worry about it.” Blinking at him, you stood admiring the way the luminescent streetlights illuminated his clear skin, “We should get going.” Interrupting your daze, you tilted your head in curiosity, Hm? Oh, that’s right, “Where are we going?” Checking his watch, his sharp eyes flickered up at you, “There’s a cafe I frequent often,” walking next to you, he placed his hand on the small of your back to guide you next to him and away from the street, “It’s a little hidden but they have a good atmosphere.” His gaze drifted to you and carefully took in the sight of you, “I hope it’s to your taste.” Glancing at him your eyes sparked with excitement, “A hidden cafe? I love checking out new coffee shops to study in! I’m looking forward to potentially adding another shop to my list!” Levi watched as you buzzed with enthusiasm. He was a little apprehensive about inviting you out to a small cafe, not knowing if it’d be something you’d enjoy, so to see you react so excitedly he sighed in relief. Seems this little venture might actually be worth its while. Unbeknownst to you, Levi did do a little background check on you through his student access — perk of being the Deans assistant — and he was pleasantly surprised to see all the achievements and participation activities you had under your belt. Most students don’t bother to do more than get through classes and do solely what’s asked of them as students. So his interest most definitely peaked when he quickly scanned through your transcript. Charming, fierce, intelligent, and beautiful. Lucky me.. he mused.

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On the complexities of relationships and words

Summary: For two people that love to read, words seem like a complex. 

Word Count: 13k (yeah… this is slow burn, might want to get a drink and snack)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, Angst kind heavy?, Modern AU, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, slow fic, marriage, arranged pairing, dubcon, themes about not liking yourself, TW: gender dysphoria (you don’t like your secondary gender), TW: Very vague and brief mentions to possible past domestic trauma, Jealous!alhaitham, slight yandere!alhaitham, mutual pining, miscommunication, breeding, biting, ruts, Alpha!alhaitham, Beta!reader. You agreed to the pairing due to tax benefits. A lot of references to literature. 

Authors note: This is my first attempt at slow burn and yeah… I got carried away. I want to explore how slow alhaitham would open up and how love can come from the mind instead of the heart. Enjoy.

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Late Spring Blooms

Summary: Not even one word had been spoken between the two of you

Word Count: 5.1K (this was supposed to be short…)

Tags: Alhaitham x gn! reader, slow burn, fluff, just a lot of fluff, slight angst, Akademiya setting, toxic academia environment, mentions of bullying, both of you are students, mutual pining, when you just stare at your crush for like 4 years but never talked to them. 

Authors note: This was supposed to be a short feel-good fic, but I guess my brain just wanted to be a nerd. So I included some scientific theories that are kinda in debate, I just gave it my best shot. I write fiction not peer reviewed studies please forgive any mistakes

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a heart of a jack of clubs

(7,4k words. angst through and through, somehow ambigious ending. slowburn. so slow, it takes them quarter of a century to fuck.)

when you’re almost 8 months pregnant, you meet scaramouche.

it’s pretty awkward, actually - you sit under a tree in a chinju forest, trying to breathe, but you do a pretty bad job at that. everything hurts so much, you hoped no one would hear your crying, but gods like to laugh at you. you close your eyes from time to time, hoping you would never open them again. you never knew that giving birth is such a challenge, you only heard of it, and you thought you’ve prepared yourself. but it was supposed to be a month more untill you meet your child. and now, well, yeah. nothing is ever right in your life.

when you open your eyes again, after getting so tired of screaming and maybe losing your consciousness for a minute, there’s three of them right in front of you: a little girl with soft white hair in a pretty green dress, touching your forehead. a man with a stark red strand in his light grey hair, his gaze is so worried and pained. the third man stays behind those two, and you can’t even comprehend how he looks like.

“i think she’s dying” girls says a little too brightly. the man with white hair looks a little bit bewildered.

“don’t say it like that!”

“does it matter?” the third man says. “open your eyes, kaedehara. she is dying.”

“still, you can hurt her with this even more” the kind man sits in front of you - his touch is blessedly chill against your feverish skin. “lady, can you hear me? can you understand what i say to you?”

you can only blink slowly in response. because of the pain you can’t really scream anymore, but tears start streaming down your face once again. you want to ask them to kill you, because you’ve suffered for god knows how many hours by now. maybe you even do ask them, considering that the girl now frowns, the kind man tries to wipe your tears away and even the third man stiffens because of your cries.

“i am no expert, but i think it’s a preterm birth.” girl says, her tone really sad now “she really might die. we need to move her in some more of a clean space, quickly.”

“we can’t really move her, you know?” girl turns her head and you guess her gaze makes the third man sigh loudly. “okay, okay, don’t look at me like that” you hear his steps and he finally bends in front of you. you can’t really see his face because of how ridiculously big his hat is, but his voice is much softer now when he speaks to you directly “hold on my shoulders, lady, we’re gonna take a quick ride.”

you do as he says, feeling another wave of terrible pain shuttering your body. almost laying on his chest, yet you hear no heartbeat. his skin velvety and cool under your fingertips, when he easily lifts you from the ground, and from now on you don’t remember anything.

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#BFE2FD ┈ scaramouche (wanderer) x gn!reader ; genre/trope: an angsty christmas special! ; wc 3000+ ; warnings: just an unrequited love fic... mentions of happy people idk

[6:44pm] gingerbread lingers in the air, despite the fact that you had shoved your pathetic attempt of a house in the bin a while ago.

still, the scent remains amidst the twinkle of christmas ornaments and the rustle of golden tinsel.  like a mockery of fate, it hangs around from early night when you had given up waiting, to the current midnight when the flicker of christmas lights along the neighbourhood was beginning to fade.

it seemed that this christmas, you would have to spend it alone.

of course, it hadn't always been like that. your friends from distant regions had all tried their hand to invite you to various parties. most offers had been simple pleasantries since there was only a handful of those who didn’t know you reserved this special night for an equally special someone, and the others you had to let down gently.

"i'm so sorry!" you had replied. "i already have plans for the night."

some of your friends, like zhongli, had hummed thoughtfully. "i see. it is always nice to spend this festive season with your loved ones. it is a shame i couldn't spend it with you, however."

"there's always next year." you found yourself apologising again, though in your heart you knew the situation would only repeat. "and i'll see you at the new years party." 

“new years, hm? then i suppose i will have to settle for seeing you then. have a wonderful christmas, name.”

hu tao beams from his right. "we'll be seeing you there! have fun with your special someone!"

others, had been a little less understanding, their whines and protests dragging on into the day.

"can't we see each other even for a second? please, please?"

"klee, name has already told you they'll be busy." albedo had interjected, appearing at her side, attention only partially directed at the conversation. 

the child pouts, fists balled at her side. "that isn't fair! i wanted us to sing jingle bells, all three of us! and to decorate the christmas tree, and to see all the christmas lights! then, we were meant to stay up to meet santa and leave gifts for him!"

"i'll still be there." albedo points out.

"it's not the same."

you laugh. "i'm sorry klee, i'll make it up to you next time."

"you said that last time. you were meant to make it up to me today." klee sniffles. "are you a liar, name?"

"alright, klee, that's too far." albedo frowns. "you have to say sorry."

"it's okay! besides, i'm the one in the wrong." you crouch down to talk face-to-face, gently wiping away the stray tears fallen on her cheek. "how about we go fish blasting on new years, hm? we can go to every pond and lake in teyvat, we'll do it for however long you like."

"really? what about santa?"

“your big brother albedo will invite him!” pointedly ignoring albedo’s gaze, you keep selling your point. “we’ll have so much fun, you’ll see.”

albeit still a little upset, klee snorts up the last of her outburst and nods. 

“i pinky promise this time." you wrap your pinky around hers and gave it a tight squeeze.

"you pinky promised this time. don't break it okay?" she repeats in a small voice.

you nod, standing back up. turning to albedo, you also give him a soft smile. "sorry i can't make it either, to your christmas party."

"it was sucrose's idea, i think that apology should be for her."

"still, i would have wanted to spend christmas with you."

"why can't you?" his eyes startle you in all its clarity as he turns, question capturing you on the spot. his clipboard seems almost disregarded in his arms. 

"i have plans!" you blurt out. “i’m… busy.”

albedo looks at you and for a second, you’re sure he can see right through you. "a significant other?"

the chill from dragonspine is chased from your body, a prickling red flush hot in its pursuit. "no, no way, nothing like that!" after a pause, you awkwardly rush to finish the sentence. "not yet, anyway."

he smiles in return at your confession before leaning down to face klee. "come on, we shouldn't bother name anymore. they have things to do." and then to you, as klee scurries away excited at the prospect of another adventure, he wishes you luck.

“i’ll deal with the santa.” he turns, waving back slightly before ushering klee inside.

some friends already knew the man in your heart, and their invitations are gateways for jokes.

"coming to my christmas party, name?" yaemiko had suggested, before her hand flies up to her mouth. "oh wait! i forgot you have better things to do, and better people to see."

"what's this? you won't be coming?" ei perks up, eyes flickering above the book at her lap. "after all our preparations?"

yaemiko interrupts you before you can even defend yourself. "name here already has plans."

"with who?"

your face warms rapidly. "it's nothing."

"nothing? you're not coming to our party, for nothing?"

"stop it." you whine, burying your burning face in your hands. "you already know why i can't come, yaemiko."

"all the more reason why it's so very fun to poke at it."

"what? what is it? stop leaving me in the dark, you two."

"shall i do the honours?" yaemiko asks.

"ei, i made dinner plans with someone tonight. so, i can’t make it."

"oh?" the god replies. "and who is this person?"

you ignore the sly fox's chuckle, and press onwards to answer. "someone... special. someone i, someone i like."

yaemiko gasps dramatically before snickering. "blush any harder and you might come down with a fever, dearest name."

you cup your cheeks and scowl at her. "you're awful."

"and so is your love life. really, name, how long have you been pining for this man? and for this to be the first move you make is really something else."

"what she's trying to say," ei interrupts, aware of the murderous expression on your face. "is that we hope you have a good time with your special someone. though we will miss you, we hope for the best, really."

and some friends had known since the very beginning.

"eager?" tighanri asks, the very first words to leave his mouth as you enter his abode. when you don't reply, he turns to you. "it is today, right?"

"right." you groan into your hands. "should i postpone it after all? leave it to another day? what if i'm not ready after all, what if he doesn't even feel the same way as me and i look like a complete fool after everything i've done to prepare?"

"name, he would be completely stupid if he doesn't appreciate you. and you know if it doesn't end well, collei, cyno and i are joining everyone else to watch nilou perform tonight. no one will say anything if you sneak in."

you look up at him and smile. "thanks, tighnari. i don't know how but you always say the right things at the right time."

'it's called impeccable timing, i just so happen to have it. speaking of, here's the icing you wanted, for the gingerbread houses."

you inhale in the scent of sugar. "that smells really good."

"i know." turning his back to you, he begins fussing around his area. "i've been told i could make a killer wife."

"yeah?" you poke a finger in the bowl. "who said that?"

"collei."

placing your finger on your tongue, you hum in appreciation. "she's not wrong this icing is delicious. you could sell this, honestly."

"are you offering?" he turns around with a smirk.

"i can pay with friendship?"

he laughs, shaking his head. "i don't need that."

you stick a different finger in the bowl and eat that too, closing your eyes at the taste.

"do that again and the bowl will be empty before it's night."

"i'm not eating that much."

"here."

your eyes widen, bowl completely forgotten as you look at the wrapped present in tighnari's hand, adorned with a bright red bow.

"this... this is..."

"my present to you." tighnari replies, a smile on his face. "merry christmas name, i hope tonight goes well."

all these holiday wishes, abundant in counting, yet there was still a hole in your heart from where a special someone had yet to say it. you find your mind blank aside from a single, daunting thought, the blanket you had hastily placed over your shoulders failing to keep the cold as the hours went on.

you replay the memory of your invitation to him over and over and over again, struggling to find any indication that he may just be late, may have just been caught in some last minute mission, that he would still be coming because he had said yes. you find that the invitation had been so causal, such a fly away suggestion, that he would have no choice but to assume it was an offering as friends, as comrades, rather than lovers. but that was alright, even if he came to your doorstep as a friend, because at least that meant he had come, because at least that meant you hadn't sat in your own home, more alone than any other day, for hours on end, waiting for the soft thud of his footsteps up to your door.

because at least that meant he hadn't stood you up.

you had definitely just been stood up.

the frosty breeze outside causes your nose and ears to tinge. you rub your arms as the cold settles in, but even the chill from the night wasn't enough to suffocate your thoughts. the crunch of snow, the whistle of the wind, the scuttering of cats as you near a little too close, all these things were not enough to erase the meaningless thoughts in your head.

it had all been so promising, the progression of your relationship, the final moment of courage that made you ask, the smile that he sent you, so full of adoration though now you can only wonder if it had all been your imagination. as the snow rains on, you wonder if you’ll forever associate the light sprinkling of white to this very moment, where the disappointment is enough to submerge you. 

well, tighnari had said you could always join him, if all went wrong.

"a christmas night alone for you, name?"

you look up, squinting at the rush of snow. a single figure stands in the distance, something about his posture so familiar to you. at last, you place a name to the face and you huff a cloud of steam into the air.

"scaramouche, no, the wanderer." you reply, his name dry on your tongue. "i wouldn't be mocking me if you were doing the same."

he shrugs, closing the distance between the two of you. you find him wearing a red scarf, and the very sight of it reminds you of someone else. "i choose to spend my christmases alone, though i don't think that would be the case for you."

"how can you be so sure?"

he smirks, the gesture so natural to him. "you've been crying." when you rush to rub at your eyes, he chuckles, loud and unapologetic. "rubbing it will only make it worse, don't you think?"

"shut up, wanderer." 

“not in the mood to talk? that hurts me, especially on a beautiful night like this.” 

you huff, letting the cold from your fingers settle into your burning eyes. “whatever. just leave me alone.”

silence, though not the type you like. you wonder why you can’t here the sound of his footsteps leaving you like you were so sure he was going to do. after all, the relationship between the two of you had never been close, simply friends of friends, sparing one another a nod in acknowledgment and maybe a few snarky remarks. 

when you look up, he’s still standing there, illuminated by streetlights. 

“why aren’t you leaving?”

“what kind of person would i be to leave a crying woman alone out on the street?”

“the same type of person you’ve always been.” you sniffle, cold.

the gesture isn’t lost on the wanderer, and with a sigh, he begins to unravel his scarf. you frown, backing away slightly. 

“what do you think you’re doing?”

without a word, the wanderer takes a step, and then another until he’s right in front of you. catching your eyes, he huffs, the steam blowing over your face, before slinging the scarf around your neck. 

at his touch, you fall silent. 

“so.” he begins. “who was the one that broke your heart?”

“it was no one.” you do a poor job at avoiding his eye. 

“i’m not a patient person, name.” 

again, you ignore him, shuffling into the scarf around your neck. though it hurt your ego to admit it, the world around you definitely felt warmer. 

with a tsk, the wanderer jabs a finger at your forehead and pushes back, forcing you to look up with a yelp. your eyes meet, and an insult raises to your tongue. “what the fuck! let go of me.”

“answer the question. who stood you up?”

you shake yourself from his touch and wiggle backwards, placing distance. “it was childe, if you have to know. jesus, wanderer, your finger is cold as shit.” 

“childe?” the wanderer repeats. “childe? you’re all sad and moopy because of childe?”

you glare at him. “shut it. i don’t need you to criticise my love life.” 

finally, a loud laugh escapes his throat. he even throws his head back, though you were almost positive your confession wasn’t even the least bit funny. that doesn’t stop him though, a hand wrapping around to clutch at his stomach, his laughs quickly becoming gasps of air. 

“yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. no really, thanks for that. it’s really helping.”

the wanderer peeks up at you through one eye, the most vibrant smile you’ve ever seen on his face still remaining. “oh you have no idea how much that made my day!”

“i think i have a rough idea.”

“you’re hilarious, name. what made you go ahead and fall for childe?”

“your heart is as cold as your fingers, wanderer. besides… i didn’t say i liked him.”

“you didn’t have to. the red on your face is enough.”

your heads cover your cheeks again, cursing your body for being so expressive. “whatever. now let me leave.” 

“hold on.” his arms stops you from walking past him, his gaze lingering at your waist before he pulls back. when he turns to face you, you don’t step back despite the proximity. it felt like a challenge, like he was daring you to back down. “you’re really spending the christmas alone? seriously?”

“it doesn’t concern you.” 

“well i’m about to make it concern me. spend the christmas with me.”

this time, it was your turn to laugh. “you’re kidding me, right? we barely know each other. and you totally laughed in my face, like, a second ago.”

“you just did the same thing to me just now.” he points out. “it cancels out.”

you hold your ground. “i am not spending the christmas with you. what, are you asking me out right now?” 

“why? getting nervous?”

“as if. you’d have to be the last person on teyvat for me to go on a date with you.” 

“that’s harsh.” his breath fans over your face as he laughs. “i would have gone on a date with you if you asked.”

“well, i’m not.” 

he hums, and something in his gaze changes, like a gear clicking into place. “but i am.” 

you hate that his words leave you flustered, blaming it on the fact that his suggestion had been absurd and abrupt and not the fact that he was looking at you the way you always hoped childe would. “wanderer, don’t joke. i’m really not feeling that right now.”

ignoring your words, his fingers creep up your arm, leaving a warm trail, dragging upwards to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “well, you’re not the worst thing i could pick up on a chirstmas night.” 

“woah, you really have a way with words, huh.” your heart beats faster, a betrayal to your mind. even as you speak, you find yourself enchanted by the way he looks at you, like he was holding you in the palm of his hand. 

“not pushing me away?” his fingers drift up your cheek, and you shiver. 

then, his hand finds purchase on the top of your head, fisting a handful of your hair and yanking it up. you yelp, hands flying to the spot of pain, words of protest already on your tongue, your mind telling you that you knew it, you knew he was up to no good, when his words cuts through the panic and freezes you.

‘look.” he says, his tone somewhere between disinterest and humour. “what’s above us, hm, name?”

you study the green above the both of you in a daze. “mistletoe.”

lighter this time, he lowers your head so he can look at you, fingers caressing your head slightly as if it will erase the pain. and it does, in a wonder that only christmas can bring, you find yourself speechless. the boy in front of you doesn’t register, though you can’t miss his degrading smile and the way his head is tilted for your response. you can’t move however, unsure if moving will break the moment, unsure on why you are so hesitant to end the situation when you really should be ending it, unsure on the warmth blossoming in your chest. 

with another hand, the wanderer swipes a finger under your lip before letting it drop to pull you closer by the waist. “not protesting anymore? i always thought the snarky part of you was your only redeeming factor.”

you open and close your mouth, then open it again. 

“i guess your stupidity has it’s own charm.” he snickers. “you’re bright red.”

“i’m bright red?” you squeak. 

“mhm.” leaning in, he finally closes the distance. 

and when your lips meet under mistletoe, it isn't the soft caress of his tongue that you notice but that he didn't quite taste like gingerbread.

merry christmas everyone! whether you celebrated yesterday, or you're celebrating today, or even if you don't celebrate at all, i hope you all have a wonderful day with friends and family !! ☆ i'm a little busy so sorry for the draft (again) !!

Broken Promises

Scaramouche x F Reader (Angst)

Hello my dear readers! I hope you all enjoy this story. I don’t know what it is but I LOVE writing angst. It is my favorite and I love feeling pain…okay I'll stop now. Anyways, I’m going to shut up and let you read, so please, grab some popcorn and have fun reading this angsty story. :) <33333

You and Scara have been longtime friends. You work well together and have just been sent on a mission to collect a rare and precious pearl from a monstrous unknown creature. You two and a group of people went into a deep and hollow cave. However, once you find the pearl, the creature unleashes itself and tries to attack you all. And that is where this story begins~

I flew back into a stone wall, groaning as the painful impact surged across my body. I looked over to see Scara on the ground. The creature in front of us screeched loudly, emitting powerful and ear bursting vibrations. I quickly placed my hands on my ears, trying to block out the painful noise. A warm and liquidy substance trickled down my hands to my arms. I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw that it was blood. However, my attention was quickly turned away from the blood when I saw a sword head towards Scara. My eyes widened, my instincts quickly kicking in. I sprinted towards him and wrapped my arms around his body. We both fell over, but the sword cut deep into my upper arm, making me yell.

Scara’s eyes widened when he heard your pained voice. He looked up at you and saw that you had a huge gash in your arm. He grabbed you and brought you to a safe area.

He then tore some of the fabric off of his shirt, tightly wrapping around your wound.

“Stay here.”

You placed a hand on his and shook your head.

“No. It’s nothing I can’t handle. You can’t fight him alone.” You spoke back.

“I’m not asking, I’m demanding. You are not able to fight.” he said, but you ignored him and tried to get up, but he grabbed your waist and pulled you back down.

“Listen to me. If you get hurt anymore, I don’t–they don’t know what they could do without you.” He said, talking about the small group of people helping us.

“He’s right, Y/n. Besides, Scara and I will work together and finish him off. You stay here and rest.” Lumine said, popping up out of nowhere. She placed her arm around his body, causing both of us to tense up a bit. It’s needless to say that he and I haven’t had the greatest encounters with Lumine. She always tries to get in the way of us when we are training or just hanging out. It’s like she doesn't want Scara and I to be around each other so she can have him all to herself. It’s like she has a weird fixation on him, but maybe it’s just her not understanding that he and I would like to be alone at times.

But just as Lumine finished her statement, another sword came flying at Scara.

“Watch out!” You yelled, pushing him to the ground once more, the weapon just barely missing your head.

Lumine turned and quickly grabbed her sword and the one right next to my head. She ran towards the creature and swiftly drove her sword across two of its legs. The creature cried out in pain as a purplish liquid spewed out.

My eyes widened as she did that.

“No! Don’t!” You yelled, but she just ignored you.

“Scara, get his other two legs!” Lumine yelled.

“Stop! We can’t hurt it!” You tried to say, slowly getting up.

Scara looked up at me and glared, pushing me to the wall.

“I told you to stay put. Listen to me!” He yelled.

“But this is wrong. We only came here to get a pearl from the creature, not kill it!”

“Sometimes, you have no other choice Y/n.”

He then turned around and went to help Lumine, slicing the creature's other legs.

I watched them stab and wound the animal as it tried to fight back. While Scara was distracting it, Lumine tried to grab one of the pearls that were piled up behind it. However, the animal sensed Lumine's presence and attacked her.

“Lumine!” Scara yelled out. I looked up at the animal and tried to figure out what was so important about these pearls. Why is the creature so protective of them?

And that's when I felt a small lick on my hand, causing my head to turn. I gasped a little as I saw the same creature, only a much smaller and younger version of it. I saw that he had what looked to be an iridescent, white shell around him. I stared at it for a bit, picking it off of the animal. I looked behind it and saw more of the same shells leading to a large and rounded piece.

I put two and two together, making my heart sink. I looked at the pearls that the creature was defending and realized that they were not pearls…but they were in fact her eggs.

No wonder why she is trying to harm us. We were trying to take one of her own!

“Scara stop!” I yelled, but he ignored me.

“Please! These aren’t pearls! They are her-”

“Y/n! Shut up!” Lumine interrupted, helping Scara.

She managed to run up to the animal and pierce her leg once more, making the mother fall.

“You’re up Scara!” Lumine said with a smirk.

I turned to see Scara grabbing his sword and running towards the mothers head, about to stab her right through.

I couldn’t let this happen! It was just out right inhumane, so I did what I had to.

The mother shut her eyes, whimpering for what was about to happen. But nothing came.

Confused, the creature opened her eyes to see you standing in front of Scara.

His sword centimeters away from stabbing your chest. His eyes widened with shock as he couldn’t believe what you just did.

The creature took the chance to grab her eggs and disappear without a trace. Lumine and Scara stared at you with anger as you let the animal get away.

Scara slammed his sword down and grabbed you by the collar, getting close to you.

“What the hell did you do that for?!”

“Scara, I couldn’t let you kill her. Those pearls…those were her eggs! Her offspring! I couldn’t let you take her away from them.”

“You have no right in telling me and Lumine what we can and can’t do!”

“You and Lumine?” You said in disbelief.

“That’s right. She was the only one who was able to actually try and get the job done. Meanwhile you let your guard down and got soft…all because what? A mother and her eggs?”

“Yes! Because those eggs need their mother to protect and nurture them.”

“No they don’t! Look at me! I never had a mother and I turned out just fine. You are too soft…which is what makes you weak! Not to mention you almost got killed! Do you know how hurt I would’ve–your family would’ve been? You can’t just do something so idiotic! Use your brain, Y/n!” He yelled at you.

“Maybe you should start using yours! Do you hear how horrible you sound right now? You were willing to kill an innocent creature for your own good!”

“That monster was not innocent! It tried to kill us!”

“Yes, because it saw us as a danger to her and her babies! She was just trying to protect them!”

“Enough! You obviously are not in the right headspace. I think you should go back home. Lumine and I will continue our mission that you made us fail!” He said, turning away from you.

You stared at him in disbelief and heartbreak.

“You’re leaving me?” You said in a quieter tone, making him stop.

“Yes, because you will be nothing but a burden to my mission. At least Lumine will be able to help me out. I’m done with you, Y/n. Maybe next time.” He said, leaving you.

That’s when you broke down.

Tears fell down your eyes. From the terrifying experience, from the guilt of terrorizing a poor creature and her eggs, from the harsh words Scara spoke to you, but most of all, him leaving you behind is what broke your heart the most.

You two even made a promise to never leave each other, especially after you found out what happened to him. You still remember it like it was yesterday. You had invited him over to your family’s place to eat, which he tried to decline…but with you being you, you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

–flashback–

“Scara? Are you still here?” Your voice was heard. Scara quickly wiped his tears away, but you walked in on him just in time. You pushed past the vines that were blocking the entrance to your house from the back yard.

“Go away.” he spoke

But with you being stubborn, you stayed and instead walked closer to him.

“What’s wrong? I thought you were having a great time.”

“I am…well, I was–”

“Is it my brother? He can be a handful sometimes, but he means well.”

“No, it’s–”

“Is it the food? Was it too spicy? Too sweet? Not enough seasoning?”

“No, it was good…I-

“Is it me? Are you annoyed by my presence–”

“Y/n!” He slightly raised his voice at you, causing you to back down.

He stared at you apologetically and sighed.

“You have all been great…it’s something I’m not used to, especially your parents.” He spoke. Making you perk up at his statement.

“What do you mean? Were your parents…not that great?”

He chuckled.

“Just having a mother and a father would have been great…” He said, tears welling up in his eyes again.

“You mean…you don’t have any?” You asked, making him frown once more

“I had one…Raiden Shogun. She was the one who created me. I looked up to her. I loved her. I viewed her as my own mother. However, she wanted nothing to do with me. She abandoned me, and left me in the dust to rot away.”

You stared at him with sorrow, feeling anger towards the purple haired woman. How could someone be so cruel?

“But, that’s not all. I found a friend, who helped me and sheltered me. He was very kind…until he, too, left me. And then, I found one more friend who I thought would be by my side forever…until he passed away and left me.”

“Scara…I’m so sorry.”

“That’s why you see me like this. Over the years, I have relied on others, only to be left behind. I had to learn how to fend for myself. I can’t trust anyone but myself anymore. I can’t stand the sight of some people either. And…when I see you and your family together, laughing and cherishing each other's time, I can’t help but feel anger and envy.”

You stared at him in silence, your heart bleeding out for him.

“It is selfish, I know–”

“No.” You interrupted him, taking his hand in yours. He looked at you with teary eyes, seeing your teary eyes as well.

“You have every right to feel those emotions and more. You have lived through a life that most have not lived through. You have been hurt and betrayed over and over again…and I am, from the bottom of my heart, so sorry that all those things happened to you.” You said with a broken voice.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I’m used to getting left behind. Honestly, I am ready for when you leave me as well.” He said, making you shake your head.

“I will not leave you.”

“You will.”

“No!” You yelled at him, making him flinch a bit out of shock from the sudden outburst.

You quickly wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. He tried to pull away, not used to the feeling, but you wouldn’t let him go.

“Let. Me. Go.” He said, but you shook your head.

“No. You need this.” You said softly.

Slowly, but surely, he started to give in, enjoying the warm and cozy sensation.

You pulled away to look at him, your arms still wrapped around him.

“Let’s make a promise.”

‘A promise? For what?” He asked you.

“A promise that we will never leave each other behind, no matter what.”

Scara couldn’t help but chuckle.

“There is no way you could-”

“Scaramouche. When I make promises, I never break them. And I’m not going to start anytime soon.” You interrupted him

He looked at you with hesitance, seeing your pleading eyes.He sighed as he finally broke down.

“Fine, if you promise to never leave me behind, I promise to never leave you behind as well.” he said, making you smile and hug him tightly.

“Deal.” You said, making him genuinely smile for the first time in forever.

Not only that, but you also made his heart beat for the first time in forever as well.

–end of flashback–

You watched as he left you behind, breaking the promise like it was nothing. You never knew you could feel this awful. You loved Scara, and not just in a friendly way…you loved him romantically. You knew it was stupid to fall in love with him when he can’t even feel it…it would just end up breaking you…and it did. It truly did.

Now, you were all alone. Sure you had other friends, but no one understood you like Scara did. You two were inseparable…until now.

Your heart felt like it tore apart as you fell to the ground, curling up against a wall. Quiet sobs escaped your mouth. Suddenly, you felt a familiar lick on your hand, causing you to look up. You saw the same little creature as before, staring at you with saddened eyes.

It knew you were in pain, and so it cuddled right up to you, trying to decrease your pain.

You couldn’t help but smile sadly as you saw the little bugger trying to cheer you up. You wrapped your arms around it and held it close.

The creature licked your wounded arm, making you gasp.

“Don’t lick that little guy. You could get sick- huh?” You interrupted yourself. You looked down at the gash and saw that it was slowly healing from the saliva of the creature. You looked at it with awe.

“No wonder why they wanted you.”

The creature licked your face like a puppy would, making you chuckle quietly.

“Don’t worry little guy. I will make sure no one hurts you or your family. You all are under my protection now.”

Suddenly, the mother appeared out of thin air, startling you. She looked down at you and snarled, but when she saw her little one playing with you, she stopped.

“I am sorry for what we did. We didn’t know….but I understand everything now. Please forgive me.” You said, bowing to the gigantic creature. She looked down at you with concern, but that look of concern quickly turned into one of care and appreciation.

She laid down next to you, letting her other littles that had already hatched, run around.

You watched them as they ran to you to cuddle you.

You were extremely hurt by Scara…but what these cute creatures were trying to do really helped distract you from it.

–Weeks later with Scaramouche–

I plunged my sword into the ground as I still couldn’t find Y/n. Frustration and anger were emitting off of my body. Those feelings weren’t towards her…they were towards myself.

“How could I have been so cruel to her. I hurt her…I ruined everything between us…all because I couldn’t fucking control myself!

He hit a tree with his fists, leaving nothing but blood on them. His hands were raw by this point and he fell to the ground.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at the ring you got him. It was a friendship ring that signified your promise between each other. He didn’t deserve it…he didn’t deserve you and yet he tossed you away like you were nothing but paper. He couldn’t believe what he had done, especially with his feelings towards you. Yes, the one and only balladeer had in fact fallen in love with you. He didn’t want to at all. In fact, he was afraid to.

But whenever he saw you, ready for a next adventure with him, he couldn’t help but give in to that emotion. You always did sweet little things for him that you might not have noticed, but he did. You would always allow him to rest on your legs, softly petting his hair that made him go crazy. You always got protective of him if someone insulted him. You always made sure he was okay and allowed him to speak his mind. Everything you did with him just made him fall head over heels for you. And no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get rid of those feelings.

And now…because of him, he lost it all in one day.

After your argument that day, he realized what he had done and instantly went back to apologize to you. But you weren’t there. So, he tried your house, but nothing. He tried to ask your other friends and even your family, but they had no idea. He kept asking around but got nowhere. It has been several weeks now and still no trace of you whatsoever. He was terrified that something horrible happened to you. And it would’ve been all his fault.

What if someone kidnapped you and was torturing you? What if you were locked away forever? What if you…what if you had been dead?

All of these thoughts continuously ran through Scara’s mind and he couldn’t get rid of them.

Every night he hoped that you would just randomly pop up, greeting him happily so that he could grab you and hold you close to him, never letting you go. He wants to feel you again, he wants to hear your sweet and melodic voice again, he wants to just straight up kiss you and confess all of his feelings to you in hopes that you return those feelings.

But who was he kidding, after what he did, you would never feel the same. And that’s something he would have to live with.

But no matter what, he will continue to search for you until the day he’s gone. He will stop at nothing to get you back. Absolutely nothing

–

Suddenly, he heard a large commotion coming from a city nearby.

Curious, he quickly ran towards that city, seeing what the noise was all about.

He saw a huge crowd gathered together and what seemed to be a medium sized creature strapped down to a board. It was whimpering at the sight of everyone as it tried to escape.

As Scara got a closer look, he realized it was the same creature he fought the day you and him got into an argument. Except this time, the animal was much smaller than the one he fought. His eyes widened as he saw what the people around it were doing. The people were tormenting, throwing rocks at it while poking it with pitchforks. Scara instantly felt regret when he harmed one of that creature's kind.

What was wrong with him? How could he have let himself try to harm such an innocent creature, especially the mother? Now, here he was, watching people torture what is probably the mothers child.

He needed to stop this and quick!

However, his thoughts were quickly interrupted when he heard a loud and ear piercing sound. Everyone screamed from the impact, as did Scara. They all fell to the ground, their eyes shut close, and their hands on their ears.

“Leave the creature alone and let him go. Or else there will be dire consequences.” A familiar voice said. Scara opened his eyes only to feel his heartbeat out of his chest. He saw the same creature he fought weeks back…but that wasn’t what made his heart pound. What made his heart pound was that finally, after so long, he saw you riding on the back of the mother. Standing proud and strong. Now was his chance to get you and fix his mess.

_______________________________

Part II coming soon! I hope you enjoyed, my dearest