Witchybitchysforest - Nova - Tumblr Blog

then vs. now

❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ higher with my lover — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, handjob, mentions of blood & blood sucking, Capitol! Reader, reader is mentioned to be a virgin, mentions of poison and death, district+lucy gray slander (necessary to the plot), mention of Sejanus, degradation & praise kink if you squint, dry humping | lmk if I missed anything!

☆　Pairing: fem! Reader x young! peacekeeper! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: Lucy Gray left but you find him in the forest instead and shit goes down

☆　A/N: this fic is inspired by the fact that i imagined myself to be the one sucking the 'poisoned bite' and be like now we both die and i like you lmao, i hope you guys like it!

Ps. This is the official canon ending :D

Ps². Listened to this song mainly to write the smut, so i am just gonna leave it here. . .

| masterlist | taglist | bc: @cafekitsune |

“Lucy Gray! Are you trying to kill me!?”

Coriolanus Snow yelled as he kept pointing the gun in random directions. It wasn't long after that he began shooting in the sky causing the murder of numerous mockingjays up in the air.

He had found the necklace, he had found the scarf. She left. She was a loose end. She needs to die, fucking die so Snow could have the life he deserved. The life he worked for, the life he was entitled to since birth. The life of a Snow.

“Lucy Gray! We can talk about this!” He yells out, “Just come out!” But Lucy Gray was nowhere to be found, as if she was a ghost. As if she was the Lucy Gray from the song, a mystery to never be found.

He pointed his gun in the direction where he heard the sound of a twig snapping. It wasn't Lucy Gray but you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving as you slowly walked towards him with your hands raised. “Coryo,” you whispered, scared, your feet walking towards him with hesitation but never flattering.

He had no idea how you had found him. He wasn't sure why you were either here. It was already too much for him that Sejanus came (and now he is dead, dead, dead. The third person he had killed). And you followed him too, pulling in favors, deciding to be a medic along with Sejanus, serving time with your best friends (not his, he never considered you or Sej as his friend).

“Where's Lucy Gray!?” He yelled, walking towards you, gun still pointed. It makes you walk backward until your back hits the hard bark of a tree. The rough texture of the bark is uncomfortable due to your thin shirt. You scrunch your nose at the mention of her. You never liked her much. He didn't know why but perhaps it was all a ruse just for this very moment. This very betrayal from her.

“How would I know?” You scoffed, the haughty attitude of a Capitol citizen coming through despite having a gun pointed at you. He pressed the end of the gun at your chest. “Tell me the truth,” he growled. “That girl tried to poison me. Tell me where she is!”

“I don't know,” you hiss back, your eyes ablaze. “And get the gun out of my face. You should be heading to a fucking medic right now. Are you sure she poisoned you?” Your voice was now laced with concern, eyes softening as you looked at him, his t-shirt clinging to him with sweat, his cheeks flushed, eyes so wide that the blues were hidden with black instead.

Coryo gets the gun away from you to put his arm forward. Showing you his snake bite, the puncture wound oozing out beads of red blood on his snow-like skin. “It's probably non-poisonous,” you said, trying to sound optimistic.

“No, it's not!” He growls, and anger fills in every movement and word of his. “She's trying to kill me. She's district! I shouldn't have- shouldn't have-” You hold his arm, your fingers around his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“It's fine,” you whispered, trying your best that the tone you use with him is soft and gentle. You want to shake him out of the mental breakdown that was happening. He shakes his head and you press your fingertips into the wound.

“It's fine,” you whispered, “let's get you back. Come on.” You try to urge him forward, only for him to pull himself out of your grasp. “No! I need to find her. She's a loose end. She will tell. She's a snake, not a songbird,” he rambles.

Despite the confusion you felt with his words, you grit your teeth. “Come on, Coryo! We need to head back,” you said, your hand on his wrist, trying to drag him out of the middle of the green forest.

“No! We need to find her out before the poison works” he yells, pulling you back and pushing you. Pinning you effectively between him and a tree.

You glare at him before a moment of impulsivity takes over you. You take his arm, your mouth around the bleeding wound and you suck letting whatever ‘poisoned blood’ onto your tongue. His eyes widen as he sees the redness of his blood now painting your lips. “Now can we go back?” You said as you licked the blood clean. “Because if it's poison, we will both die.”

“Why would-” he visibly freezes. He doesn't want your blood on his hands. No- it would be on Lucy's hands. It's her fault. Everything is her fault. “Why would you do that?” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his face now mere inches away from yours. It was like he was seeing you for the first time. Like he never saw you for you until now. Someone like him. Unhinged (not that he's willing to admit it).

He hooks his fingers under your chin, holding your jaw and tilting your lips towards his. His eyes were searching for sanity but seemed to have found none as a smile (filled with insanity) spread on his face. “You're crazy,” he whispered, “Are you that desperate?”

“Desperate for your well-being, Coryo,” you whispered, hating the fact that your gaze fell on his soft-looking lips. “I don't know what's wrong, Coriolanus. But come with me, let's go back. Lucy Gray isn't worth anything.”

“Lucy Gray is worth everything!” He yelled, pressing his body with yours, pain in your bones flaring as he without noticing crushed you.

“I am sure she will have poison for you too. I am sure she will come back then,” you spit out. You felt outrageous at his behavior. “She ran, didn't she? To the North. You gonna go there too, Coryo?” you questioned, your eyes now meeting his. You try to find an answer but find something deeply tangled instead, neither a yes or a no.

You never felt such pity for Coriolanus Snow before as you did now. You put your palm on his cheek. “Come with me,” you said, softening your voice. “Back to the peacekeepers, the general told me about District 2 and I can put in favors so we can be back in the Capitol in no time.”

“You didn't choose Sejanus,” you whispered, the mention of Sej causing him to freeze. “Choose me,” you plead, feeling pathetic for being reduced to this. But it was for your Coryo so it was worth it. Wasn't it?

A chip from the bird makes him look away but you use your hand to make him face you again. Tears begin to pool in your eyes. You find your heart preparing itself for a rejection. “Choose me,” you choke out, a sob in your throat ready to come out when he says no, no, no Lucy Gray it is, never you.

You wait and wait for the rejection, your eyelids closing themselves so he doesn't see himself (or the way you looked at him with love) in the reflective tears. “Look at me,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath on your lips now. And you didn't want to listen but your eyes opened back up, light coming in and he's in your sight.

All glorious as you always thought of Snow.

Snow lands on top.

Haven't every Capitol child learned that from history? You were no exception. And you never planned to be. Even after finding out the truth about his situation, you never thought less of him, if anything everything you felt about him increased tenfold without your consent. Oh, how you should hate him. Oh, but how much you love him.

He leaned in and you didn't move. He stops for a mere second as if reconsidering his decision. But then decided to fuck it because the next thing you know his lips against yours.

He tasted like cheap alcohol, he tasted like ruin and danger. You ate it all up by parting your lips so his tongue could slip in. You let out a moan as his teeth bite into your lips. For a moment you think he's a snake and that he's the one poisoning you. His poison is more potent than an actual snake’s ever could be.

You were simple prey, that's it. Instead of a bullet, he was shooting your heart with a kiss. And it was working because in the future he will be the end of you. A slow, slow poison, he controlled the kiss despite the way his tongue slid against yours was clumsy but so perfect.

You kissed him back to the best of your abilities, wondering briefly if you tasted like the pastry you had in the morning. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth to suck and bite however he wants. Your hands find his buzz cut instead of his golden curls and a whine leaves your lips from the frustration of the loss.

Your hand is on his nape and another is still on his cheek as neither of you breaks the kiss. It didn't matter that you were getting lightheaded. It didn't matter that you could feel your heartbeat increasing due to lack of oxygen. He was everything, you would be damned if you broke the kiss.

You gasp as the kiss is broken. You stare into his eyes, searching for something, anything. But you find nothing but ice blue. It sent chills down your spine but at least he had calmed down now. “Feeling better?” You asked and you got a rough nod as a reply.

“Come on, we have work to do,” he whispered as he pulled back. His dog tag dangles as he begins to walk towards the cabin again, navigating the path with his father's compass.

You find the cabin and the guns. Coriolanus looks at you waiting for a protest, disgust, expecting you to run away just like Lucy Gray. You didn't do anything except sigh, your shoulder wearing down as you realized the truth of it all. You didn't say a word but your hand finds his. He doesn't say anything either but squeezes your hand back. An unspoken promise. He had chosen you. You had chosen him. You were in this together now.

There's no going back.

Both of you row the boat and let the guns sink into the river, never to be found again. You find your way back to the cabin, the rain pouring down again. You sit beside Snow- no, no, still Coryo. Always Coryo. Your head on his shoulder, your knees pressed to your chest as you hear the tip tap of rain outside.

Not a single sound is made. But as time passes and the rain doesn't stop, you begin to crave his lips again. As if that one kiss was morphine, and you needed more to heal the ache of your soul. “Coriolanus,” you whispered.

“Coryo,” he reprimanded softly, his tone enticing as if he was trying to bewitch. You feel your palms sweat as embarrassment begins to nag your mind. You blurt it out before you can think about how pathetic you sound.

“Can I have another kiss, Coryo?”

The next few moments were a blur. Lips on lips. Clumsily tongues meeting each other and whining into each other's mouths. You were shamelessly grinding on Coryo's lap as your lips continued to stay locked with his. “I want you so bad,” you admit as you feel his cock harden underneath you.

“Since the academy,” you whispered against his lips, a moan escaping your lips when he held your hips and began to guide them to grind on his completely hard bulge.

“Oh, yeah?” He mocks, “It's pretty fucking obvious.” He choked off a groan coming out of his mouth, “You're willing to let go of the fact that I am a murderer, huh?” You let out a whimper as he mentioned that. But both of you knew the answer to that, a part of you knew what kind of predator he was. Ever since you knew about how he killed a tribute, you just called it. It never mattered to you how horrible he could be or in this case, is.

“Yes, yes,” you moan into his mouth. Was it an answer or a mere whine about how perfect the friction felt against your pantie-soaked pussy? You didn't know but Coriolanus thought of it as the former. “You gonna be my girl, then? A capitol princess being a peacekeepers’ doll to fuck,” he whispered, his tongue licking a strip of skin on your neck.

You moan as his teeth begin to harshly assault your skin, covering your neck with marks. “Yes,” you gasp, “as long as it's you.” God, how much more pathetic could you be? But it didn't matter, it got him higher and fed his ego after everything that had happened. He loved it and perhaps, he could grow to love you.

Not in the way, Coryo loved Lucy Gray but in the way Snow would love his First Lady.

Your hands tug off his wet t-shirt and throw it on the floor. His hands do the same with your peacekeeper's uniform. He grabs your hips, squeezing the plump of flesh there, his mouth panting into you and he looks at you with dilated eyes.

Time seems to have slowed down as you touch his dog tag, your fingers tracing the name carved into the metal. “I want this. You, right now, right here,” you whispered like it was the biggest secret of your life. “Do you?” You ask as your hands go lower to fiddle with the zipper of his pants.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer, only pulling you into another kiss with his fingers woven into your hair in a fist as his free hand goes down below to free his cock from the confines of his trousers.

You grip his length, stroking it and squeezing out pearly pre-cum from the tip. You savor the deep groan that leaves his lips. “Fuck… just like that, doll,” he instructed and you obey. Your strokes get faster and his pre becomes natural lube as you continue. He lets out a hiss when you twist your wrist and his hand snares around your wrist. “Wanna cum in your cunt first,” he said, breathless from the ecstasy of having your hands on him.

Within moments the remaining clothes on both of you were scattered around the cabin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers desperately clawing at his shoulders as you begin to grind your soaking wet pussy against his hard cock. You gasp, elated by how your folds pressed against his length, his cockhead being teased by your slit but unable to breach the threshold.

The kisses you shared with him were sloppy. Saliva coating his chin as neither of you was willing to separate your lips for a single unnecessary moment. You knew your lips would hurt by the end of this, that they were swollen and the inside of it bleeding because of how insistently his teeth loved to bite your lower lip. He was no better either. You tasted more blood from the kisses now than anything, and it didn't matter to you because somehow the salty, rusty taste felt like just him.

You let out a sound unfitting of a Capitol-raised woman when his cockhead slips inside your gummy walls. His tip now profusely leaks pre-cum inside your gummy walls. You pulled back, biting your lower lip to stop the whimper as you feel his cockhead stretching out your virgin walls.

“That's it, dove,” he lets out, all needy and heated. His hands squeeze your hips to be encouraging as you let yourself down on his cock slowly. “Take it all in. You can do it, doll,” he whispered, as his eyes were down looking at his length entering you, being surrounded by the wicked, addicting warmth of your tight cunt.

“I can?” You let out a whine, as the pain bleeds into the pleasure, the ratio of it throwing you off the dizzy full lust. He hums in encouragement as you finally fill yourself with his dick to the hilt. Your slick walls pulsate around his length.

“Atta girl,” he smiles at you, his eyes brightening up from how well you took him and without any complaints whatsoever. “That's a good slut,” he whispered and smirked when he felt your walls clench around him deliciously.

You tried to move your hips but gave up when the burn made your eyes water. He coos at you encouragingly, telling you to adjust to his girth first. He wasn't going to rut into you like a dog, you're a Capitol girl, not a district whore. He wasn't going to disrespect you like that, no matter how much he wanted you to begin rolling your hips.

So your lips latch onto his neck, while your arms are around him and your legs around his waist. You were clinging to him, as if afraid that if you ease up in your grip he will fade away from your life, from this moment and your reality together. The smell of sex and sweat begins to become stronger than the smell of gunpowder as you continue to give him hickeys in various places on his skin.

Coriolanus doesn't complain that you're marking him like this, not when he's doing the same task with his tongue tracing the love bites his teeth left. And you suspect he rather enjoys when you bite, as his cock twitches whenever your teeth dig into his flesh as if you're eating and your wet tongue licks over the bite as if you're tasting the flavor of his skin.

When you're finally comfortable with his cock being inside the most intimate part of you. You slowly but surely begin to make small, shallow thrusts that have you gasping, your eyes rolling back with how good it feels already because he was fucking into your g-spot with every roll of your hips. The thrusts were teasing, it had him groaning praises of you being a good girl and his hold tightening over your hips, surely leaving bruises.

You begin to relish the feeling of being stuffed, his cockhead kissing your cervix when you get the angle just right. Your folds coat him with your creamy juices, a ring of white forming on his base with how wet you were. Slowly but surely the pleasure begins to build up, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to put up force with the way you rock back and forth on his cock.

You pant into his mouth, your lips letting out sharp moans when his dick strokes your walls just right. He lets you control the pace, his mouth busy latching onto your nipple to suck. His tongue swirls around the bud, hardening it inside his mouth and he nips your nipple just to have you jolt from the bite and squeeze down on his cock.

One of his hands now kneads the other breast he wasn't giving much attention to, his fingers rolling the nipple, pinching the bud, and playing with it. His other hand goes between your bodies and finds your clit. You soon realize he was working with a pattern that was driving you insane, turning your cunt into a hotter slicker mess.

When he swirled his tongue around your nipple, his fingers did roll the other bud. Meanwhile, his thumb would drive small, rapid circles onto your swollen bundle of nerves. When he bit into your nipple, his fingers pinched your clit making you gasp with thunderous pleasure filling your veins.

He continues at this and tension begins to build up in your tummy. You close your eyes as animalistic instincts begin to take over your body. The need to cum overrides everything else as you begin to roll your hips faster and harder. Desperate to cum around his cock for the first time of many times in your life. He feels the same way because he encourages you with his hips bucking into you, thrusting perfectly inside of your slick walls.

“So close, Coryo!” You moan, your nails leaving red lines in their path on his shoulders. He latches off your breasts to whisper, “Cum then, my slut. Let me feel you milk my cock like a good cockwhore would.” You let out a louder moan at his words. His condescending tone snaps the tension that had formed in your tummy, you begin to cum.

Your pussy spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He empties his balls inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. “That's a good girl. Look how well you took me. Look at the cum leaking out, dove,” his tone teasing, like many times he has teased in classes but the context of this was entirely different.

You look down, your pussy clenching around his cock again when you see his seed ooze out of you. Your body slumps into him, tired from all of this. Both mentally and physically. The storm was still going on. You lay in his arms, his cum now coating the insides of your thighs.

“You're smarter than Lucy Gray,” he said, “I pray you know better than to run. I won't miss the next time.”

You shake your head, trying to hide the smile forming on your face. Others would have run from his words, anyone sane would. Lucy Gray did after all. But you were just you.

“If I wanted to run, I wouldn't have found you in the first place,” you whispered, sealing your words with a soft kiss on his lips.

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THANK YOU, MOM — starring: f. reader x MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, who calls you mom for the first time

Megumi was used to handle things on his own, taking care of himself and barely asked for help, but this time he couldn’t deal with the damage alone and you were the first person he thought about.

contents & warnings: fluff, brief description of an injury, blood; reader is Satoru Gojo's wife

note: I rarely write for Megumi in a sense of romantic topics, but I absolutely a d o r e the concept of him being Gojo's son. sorry not sorry, I'm in a desperate need for some fluffs

Happiness. A state, that psychologists define as a subjective well-being that a person experience. Happiness is as fickle as the wind. It comes and goes, sometimes in a rush of joy and sometimes in a lull of melancholy. Sometimes it’s as simple as a hot cup of coffee or a kind word from a stranger, but true happiness is a feeling that you couldn’t describe, even if you’d try. The warm, comforting sensation in the pit of your stomach, as if everything in the world was right where it should be.

Up until that point, you thought you were in that specific state many times. When Satoru asked for your hand, you were happy. You’re almost ecstatic every time you see your students’ successes. You tend to be overjoyed by the littlest things and if anyone asked you if you ever felt happiness, you’d most likely say yes.

But that day you realized that you never had a chance to experience the true, heart-clenching, tear inducing happiness before. Though you had shed some tears when at the altar you were staring into those beautiful blue eyes of your now husband, but not even once before you had an urge to ugly cry because you were so happy. Not before Megumi called you mom.

It happened in the privacy of your home, late into the night, when after a mission particularly roughed him up, he showed up at your doorstep late at night. Once you swung the door open, the sight of his bloodied uniform and the red gushing out of a wound on the side of his stomach made you forget how to breathe, your heart skipped a beat and time seemed to fade away. Quickly you led him inside onto the couch and gathered supplies to aid him. He should go to Shoko, both of you knew it, but you were also able to use reversed curse technique to some extent.

“What happened?” You asked him, carefully taking off his uniform jacket and lifting his shirt to assess the damage. You knew he’ll make it, you knew you won’t let him go, and yet you felt the terror inside your veins when his pale skin was right in front of your eyes, stained in fresh blood.

“Just a scratch,” he mumbled, his voice was out of breath, it was saturated in pain that you knew he tried to hide with the soft shrug he did. “A curse was stronger than it was supposed to be, and uh…”

You were going to confront Satoru with that information. It wouldn’t be the first time he pushed his own mission onto his students. Tough love, as he used to call it, learning through challenge and it worked, mostly, but seeing your boy struggling still made your heart clench and your eyes swell with tears.

Megumi was used to handle things on his own, taking care of himself and barely asked for help, but this time he couldn’t deal with the damage alone and you were the first person he thought about. He had always thought of you as the strongest person he knew, even though you were a wife to Satoru Gojo, but to Megumi, it was you who had given him the closest thing he had ever had to a parent. He felt small and vulnerable, heavy underneath your gaze so full of love and concern that and at the same time, light as a feather because somehow, your soft voice and caring hands had the ability to take the weight of any burden off his shoulders. He sat still while your cursed energy was healing his injuries, silently admiring the effort and compassion.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you sighed once the adrenaline in your system began to wear off. Megumi was fine. Injured, but fine, nothing threatened his life anymore. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

“I’m okay,” he reassured, leaning his head back. The blood loss was getting to him, he was paler than usually, his forehead covered in sweat and he was panting slightly. Once done with the wound, you cleaned the blood as much as you could and quickly grabbed a clean, wet towel, a fresh t-shirt from Satoru’s closet and a blanket.

Sitting next to the boy, you pulled him gently onto yourself so he could lean against your chest, with the compress on his head and a cover over his body to keep him warm. Only then, feeling the steady beat of your heart and the warmth around him, he began to relax.

That was something Megumi remembered from his youngest years. When Satoru took him and his sister underneath his wing, you were there also and as much as Gojo had no paternal instincts towards them, you were always full of love. Countless times he was falling asleep cuddled to you, you were the safest place on earth for him and even now, as he’s already almost an adult, your embrace is something he’s always happy to come back to. Though he wouldn’t say it out loud, of course. But now, he could feel his body releasing the tension, his fight-or-flight mode slowly turning off because there was no need for him to stay alarmed when you were next to him. When your arms were around him, protecting him from the world itself. And hence why his mouth formulated these words without him thinking much of it.

“Thank you, mom.” Oh. The word left his mouth despite the fear he felt. Megumi had always been afraid to call you his mother, even though he thought of you as such. He was worried it would feel too close, too intimate and though he wished to let you know how much you meant to him, he was worried you’ll get angry. He realized what he said when it was already too late. “I’m s-sorr—”

“Don’t thank me, Megumi,” you cut his apologies, gently tightening the hug. You couldn’t describe the way you felt in this moment. It was such a simple thing, but it meant everything to you. That had to be the real happiness. “I'm always here for you, whenever you need me. And I love you too, you know?”

RODEO STATION, 1 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 

A collection of you and Megumi, through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, sort of canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique but it’s not mentioned in depth here, really just you and megumi falling in love and gojo watching

word count: 1.1k

part i: first years, jujutsu tech. fits in the timeline around when nobara first joins the class

When Satoru first finds him, Megumi has two conditions. First, that Tsumiki would be kept safe and happy, and far away from the Zenin clan if they weren’t going to be good to her—safe and far away from all jujutsu society if Gojo could help it; and that she would never have to worry about feeding herself or Megumi ever again. Satoru agreed right away, he would have done that without the request. 

For his second condition, an eight year old Megumi looked Satoru straight in the eye and told him that he would absolutely not be separated from you. Satoru thought it was cute, sweet, in the bratty, and naive but determined kind of way that seemed to be everything that kid stood for, and Satoru couldn’t fault him for it. Megumi’s evident childlike adoration of you aside, Satoru saw potential in you, too, so he accepted Megumi’s conditions, happy to welcome the two of you to the world of sorcery. 

It’s not until a week before you both start at Jujutsu Tech, that Satoru really asks Megumi why he wants you here (never mind the fact that you had already also made up your mind about being a sorcerer, and if there is anything that Satoru has learned about you in the past decade, it’s that: one, you have the magical ability to make Megumi do anything you say; and two, you’re incredible persuasive and very stubborn). Megumi doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, fidgeting with his melting ice cream instead when he says, “Well, she saved my life.” 

Satoru doesn’t tease when he hears this, only digging his spoon in for a scoop of Megumi’s toffee butter, smiling to himself when the cold hits his tongue, because he’d heard the message loud and clear: Megumi believes he owes you his life, and to keep yours protected, he wants you by his side.

Satoru quickly learns that Megumi truly has his work cut out for him as he watches you burst through a top-floor window of a high-rise building, falling carelessly with the object of your mission—a special-grade cursed object—clutched in your grasp. Second later, there’s a loud explosion, as the ugly head of a large cursed falls limp in the hole in the broken glass that you’d left behind. Satoru chuckles when he sees you smile, and the faint cheer of weeeeeeeee as you fall. He knew you were wild and stubborn by the way you bossed Megumi around without a care, but seeing you in action proved that you were also in your own league of crazy, a fantastic sorceress in the making. 

To his left, Yuuji gapes wildly as he looks up, shielding his eyes with his hand, and then flinching back when Nobara bursts through the ground floor door, not without a nail going flying into the curse that had been chasing her. She looks angry, then wide eyed, then up to where Yuuji and Megumi were also staring and starts squealing alongside him. 

“Gojo-sensei, what are you standing there smiling about—do something!” Nobara shouts, pointing an accusatory finger up in the air at your flying body. 

Yuuji gasps again, like he’d just figured out the consequence of you falling from a building, spewing on his own cries, “Hey, seriously, what the hell are we doing—she can’t fly,” he shouts, turning to shake his sensei, then pausing, “Wait, Fushiguro, can she fly? You know her.” 

“Idiot,” Nobara spits, “If she could fly then she’d be flying, not falling.”

“Then why aren’t we doing any—you know what, I think I can catch her,” Yuuji boasts, rolling up his sleeves, prepared to position himself underneath your descending body, and that’s when Satoru steps in, extending an arm in front of his students. 

“You all worry too much,” he smiles, lifting his blindfold just enough to look the pair in the eye, and tilt his head up slightly, “Besides, Megumi’s handled it.” 

Three heads turn back up to the sky, where you’re no longer in freefall, instead have had your shoulders snatched by Nue’s talons. You’ve still got that wild smile on your face, wider now as you descend much more elegantly via Megumi’s shikigami. Nobara and Yuuji wince as Nue’s wings flap widely when you’re set on the ground. You shift the box with the cursed object to one hand, reaching your free one around to pet the bird’s feathers. It crows happily, and Satoru snickers, much to Megumi’s dismay. You always did treat his shikigami like pets. 

“Hey, you’re okay!” Yuuji cheers, eyes sparkling, “What’s in the box? A sword—actually, I don’t want to know. If it’s another finger, keep it away from me.” 

“Hand it here,” Nobara demands. You’re happy to hand over the box and have another hand available for petting Nue. 

Satoru watches fondly as Yuuji and Nobara fuss over the box. They should probably exercise more caution, but he’s there, so the worst can’t happen. Meanwhile, you step closer to Megumi with Nue fluttering behind you. 

“You’re the one who told me there would be no need to get involved,” Megumi says, voice soft, hands falling comfortably at his side. 

“I said that you wouldn’t have to get involved with the curses,” you correct, standing on your tiptoes to nuzzles your head into the bird’s feathers, “I said nothing about not getting involved with me.” 

Satoru does his best not to choke out a loud laugh as Megumi’s face becomes increasingly pink when you reach forward to pinch his cheeks, his grumbling drowned in the sound of Yuuji and Nobara’s bickering. Satory sighs, content. He cares for all his students, but there’s a certain weight lifted on his shoulders knowing that when it came to you, there was truly nothing to worry about—Megumi would always be there for you. Honestly, he thinks Megumi might fight him to protect you if it came down to it. 

That thought does bring an audible chuckle to his lips, Megumi’s pinched expression calling to him, “What are you laughing about?” 

To which Satoru only hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow deeper, but it’s quickly dissolved when you catch his attention again, saying your farewells to Nue before giving Megumi the okay to let him recede into his shadows. 

“Oh, nothing,” Satoru chirps, turning to lead the group back to Ichiji’s car, “Come on, who’s still up for revolving sushi!”  

Cheers follow him as the veil dispels. You question Yuuji about whether or not you think the restaurant will have grilled eel, and Nobara pretends to throw up, arguing that eel is the worst, that you all should stick to hand rolls instead. Megumi stays quiet, walking on your outside, and humming along with all of your suggestions, and Satoru can’t help but wonder whether or not you knew that Nue had been out from the moment you’d stepped in the building. 

Honestly, he thinks Megumi might win that fight—might win any fight if it meant being with you.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄, part one " the return of hiken,"

featuring: flame emperor sabo x fem!reader content warning: mentions of child's death, mdni!! hi it's malia: finally, i finished part one, i'm so glad and so devasted for her reaction towards sabo. excuse the she usage, but it was easier to write for me than using the you! it's still female reader.

tagged: @dimplesjaehyuniie & @96jnie

Equipped with a small mechanical crossbow on both wrists, she watched how the steel arrow slid in and out. Preparing her weapons for a fight if Zoro and Luffy would be followed by enemies. It was the worst-case scenario. A fight in the corridors of the Corrida Colosseum might not be the greatest idea to avoid unwanted attention, but she would not allow any others to hurt her friends.

Winning the Devil Fruit, which once belonged to Portgas D. Ace, was an important task for the Straw Hat captain. At the same time, he would feel responsible if one of his friends could receive deadly wounds from an enemy. Most likely because Luffy could have prevented the intensity of the damage. And in the moment where Ace's image popped into her mind, the loud cries and angry screams coming from the end of the corridor required her undivided attention.

Luffy tugged underneath his muscular arm, dressed in his usual attire again without the costume for the contest. Storming down the corridor, she raised her eyebrows in confusion. No one followed them, at least, she could not see any enemies closing in on the duo. Shaking her head at their unexplainable behavior, she felt the gentle breeze of the wind as the two passed her before turning and following. With slow steps, she walked through the Colosseum towards the exit. One that wasn't known to most contestants, who entered a fight, and were forced to stay as prisoners. A departure was not an option for strong people who once signed the contract.

Tricky, but fitting for a cruel person like Doflamingo.

"Take that!" The swordsman with the green hair shouted, throwing a blue caterpillar costume at the approaching markswoman. She caught it with one hand, staring at the ridiculous large eyes until Luffy's whiny sounds became the center of her undivided attention. "What happened to him?" A slender finger pointed at the crying man, who mumbled word after word between the tears streaming down his cheeks, and the drool running down his chin.

"No idea," Zoro shrugged his shoulders to strengthen his words. "Found him on the ground close to the cells, crying and without the clown costume,"

Luffy was lost deeply in his emotions, uncountable waves of tears ran down his flustered cheeks. Unable to move a heavy limb, Zoro helped his captain and certainly best friend to step into the costume, he brought along. If they wanted to walk through the streets of Dressrosa without being captured or attacked, the dress-up was a necessary change of clothing.

“Captain, are you good to go?” She spoke towards the boy with the inky strands, and the head thrown back. It was obvious that the scene he went through, must be almost as painful as watching his brother die. Something so similar that Luffy’s entire personality shrunk into a whining boy. “For fuck’s sake, who the hell did he see?”

The markswoman chuckled to herself, shaking the head from left to right as she kneeled down. Thick fabric of the caterpillar costume between her fingers, she imagined any kind of animal or enemy as the thing that straddled Luffy to such immense. While the Captain’s face was almost hidden as Zoro pulled on the zipper, she stepped into her own costume.

“S-Sabo,” Luffy stuttered between the sobs and whines. And the head of the markswoman snapped towards her last standing childhood friend. “What?” She questioned, thinking she must have heard the wrong name. It was impossible. “Sabo!” Luffy shouted, but Zoro’s large, scared hand was quick to cover up their Captain’s wide-open mouth before any danger found them.

She felt a pinch in her chest, a breath tangled between her ribs like the sharpened blade of a knife pierced through skin and bones without resistance. The name Luffy repeated while crying out of happiness caused too many unbearable emotions for her severed soul. Stopping in her tracks, the ridiculous animal costume Zoro brought along, slipped out of her grip and bunched around her ankles. Luffy would never speak his name again, if he would not tell the truth about the encounter.

The pain caused by his early and unexpected death was certainly enough to never repeat the memories with words. Something, the three had promised each other, even more so after the happenings at Marineford. “Hey!” Zoro waved his hand in front of the markswoman, demanding her undivided attention. And it was a coincidence that she heard his voice over the loud thudding of her heart against her rib cage. “Get dressed, we have to leave!”

Instead of following the instructions, she stepped out of the costume. What Luffy spoke, made her question the escape, question the current life they are living, question what happened that day when the ship got destroyed by the cannon balls of a World Noble. Dry lips pressed together in a tight line, fingers clenched into fists, she turned away from her friends and towards the secret entrance to the colosseum.

“We don’t have time for this! There’s nothing left in there for us!” Zoro shouted, pulling the costume higher to hide his signature hair color and his well-known face from the people of Dressrosa. “Maybe not for you, but I need to know if Luffy’s speaking the truth or if someone decides to play a distasteful game with us,” She stated, already walking slowly back into the Colosseum and leaving Zoro back to carry Luffy away.

Thoughts scattered in her mind, the reminder that he couldn’t be alive after his small boat got attacked by a World Noble’s crew. Caught in the fire, the explosion didn’t allow him to escape, and they held a funeral in Foosha Village for the boy. She cried many nights, almost each night she fell asleep with wet cheeks and the burning red color in her eyes.

“Sabo,” She whispered to herself, the head hanging lower than usual as she inspected the crossbows in her wrists. “Is that really you,”

Steel arrows prepared in the mechanism, she already expected to be disappointed again. A person, who could imitate another, or maybe Luffy’s idiotic behavior caused him to forget that the blonde boy couldn’t be alive. Still, she wandered through the corridors, following the shouts of an excited commentator about the next match-up. It was easy to find a way to the stands, which were filled with multiple people who eagerly watched the competition.

The people clapped and watched as the competitors of the finale started to fight in the middle of the arena. Names, which were known ones across the sea. And the markswoman did not seem vaguely interested in the fight until a familiar costume caught her eyes. It looked exactly like Luffy in disguise except for the signature scar on the chest. The person underneath the costume was paler than her Captain, and the x-shape was definitely drawn across the muscular chest.

Also, Luffy just escaped the Colosseum with Zoro to save Law from being executed by Doflamingo. Running a hand through her hair, she stared exactly at the person who acted as Lucy, fighting with a steel pipe before focusing on the middle part of the arena. Fingers clenched in the brown leather gloves, he punched the ground and the platform broke apart in seconds. "What the fuck," She whispered underneath a breath, eyebrows raised and pupils dilated in shock. The power was unbelievable.

The people scattered in the arena, running towards the exits to leave the Colosseum as the water underneath the arena caused chaos. Pieces of the ground floated around, contestants drowning in the water as Devil Fruit eaters weren't able to swim. Large fishes swam with the currents, one of them having a chest bound on their back. The man in the gladiator costume jumped straight to the treasure, while others cursed underneath their breaths. "This can't be," The markswoman muttered again, placing her feet on the railing and preparing herself to fight against the costumed lad to receive Ace's legacy herself.

One person stayed in the stands with her. A woman, dressed in a short skirt, and a very bright, pink blouse with a brown hat. She looked cute, especially with the stockings, and she held onto the pile of clothing in her arms. The chest was ripped open by the man who took Luffy's disguise and showed a smile when the Mera Mera No Mi was tightly in their hands. "I've won, this is mine," He declared, a deep. and almost too familiar voice rang in her ears. So familiar, she almost ended up starstruck and rooted to the railing of the stand around the ring.

Seconds too late, the second Lucy took a bite out of the Fire Fruit, and immediately regretted doing so. "How disgusting," He shouted, his tongue hanging out of his mouth while forcing the last pieces of the valuable Logia into his burning mouth. The woman in the cute costume beside the markswoman watched, a giggle leaving her mouth as she witnessed the facial expressions.

Within seconds, and still caught in the wave of memories and the simple glimpse of a familiar voice, the Straw Hat's markswoman stumbled into the ring. In mid-air, the Lucy duplicate proudly presented the growing fire around his fist. A strong attack, a loud word echoed through the arena above the gasps of surprise. "Hiken," He shouted, losing the fake beard and cheap, golden helmet while destroying the entirety of the ring. Enemies drowned in the floating waves, and got hit by the crumbled platforms and thick pieces of stones hitting their bodies.

Landing safely on the ground underneath the ring, the Lucy duplicate smirked to himself and placed a saved Rebecca on the ground. After him, the woman with the folded clothing followed quickly after him, jumping confidently from one piece to another. And while, the markswoman attempted her best to stand tall while sliding down the side of the ring, she landed on her ass on the hard stone ground in one of the tunnels. Eyes squinted together, the footsteps of a group of people running close to her caught her attention, and helped her to receive the power over herself back.

"Fuck," She cursed, standing up and letting the span of her soft palm rub over her aching lower back and the curve of her butt cheeks. "What's going on," She muttered to herself, looking around to at least find out where she was. No one knew about the secret tunnel system underneath the town, at least, none have told her about what was going on in those bunkers of Dressrosa.

Surely, the SMILE factory must be hidden in such a place. One of the many reasons why the Straw Hats came to this forsaken land, and decided to help the tortured folk regain their freedom from Doflamingo.

"Who the hell are you?" The voice of the female gladiator, the woman with the pink hair and the sword, echoed through the quiet tunnels. She was saved by the man who disguised himself as Lucy, taking the costume away from Luffy and eventually telling him important information about Sabo. Shared secrets that caused the emotional damage to the Straw Hat, and even rendered him unable to speak a full sentence without repeating the name of a long-lost brother. "We're from the Revolutionary Army," The man explained, chuckling about the change of emotion on Rebeka's face.

And suddenly, the markswoman, who was just straddled by the destruction of the fighting area, felt her heart thudding against her rib cage. Quickly, and even harshly which almost caused unbearable pain to her body. Such a familiar glint in the voice of the adult, such a sweet hint in the melodic sound of the man's tone. "I'm Sabo,"

Eyes dilated within seconds, tears gathering on her lower lashline as the name easily left the male's mouth. Spoken without hesitation, without fear and without regret of acting as if he was someone, who couldn't be alive anymore. Couldn't have survived the attack on his small, wooden boat about twelve years ago. Fingers clenched into fists, she reloaded the crossbows on her wrists and ran toward the spot between the multiple barrels. Fast steps allowed her to witness the moment as the girl with the goggles placed an all-too-familiar hat in a larger version on top of the blonde's hat.

"You're not the original Lucy," Rebeka stated, pointing a finger at the man who was busy controlling the fire in his palm. He still had trouble, attempting to pull his brown leather gloves over his digits. " The original Lucy is a pirate. A chaotic but brave one, who will become the King of the Pirates, he's my little brother," The man in his noble outfit chuckled, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat after finally hiding his soft digits in the leather material of his gloves.

Stopping in her tracks, but already in sight for the group of three and the former female contestant to see, her fingers released the clenched fists at the sight and the explanations he was giving.

There might be a chance that someone could imitate Sabo to mess with Luffy's head, but none could talk about the Straw Hat with such pride and belief. From the first day on Luffy revealed his dream to his older brothers, the noble-born boy with the pipe on his back believed in the dreams of the crying boy. It was possible, it all seemed so possible for them. She remembered those moments, those little, beautiful moments of a carefree past so perfectly.

"S-Sabo," She stuttered out the name of a man, who gave her enough as a ten-year-old. Who offered her love before she could even describe the word or emotion before she even experienced the positive and negative aspects of it.

Tears dwelled in the corners of her widened eyes, blown pupils stared at the trio of the revolutionary army as the one in the middle lifted his head. Tilted to the side, the brim wasn't hiding parts of his face anymore. A breath, she took seconds ago, stuck in her tightened throat at the sight. Words mixed between spit and air, a confusing mixture of syllables on the tip of her tongue. Eyes, she remembered so dearly. Eyes, so innocent with a glint of courage hidden in the depth. Eyes, who presented a deep love and caring for the young, noble-born girl around twelve years ago.

Eyes, which burst open at the sight of the brave warrior. The burned skin around his eye stretched as he raised his blonde brows at the female, whose gentle features with the sharp twist were a familiar picture to him. Sabo, who froze while playing with the insides of his pockets and watched the droplets slowly roll down the span of her flustered cheeks. "This can't be true," A whisper so sincere, so quiet it only belonged to her and couldn't be carried by the gentle blows of wind towards the revolutionaries in front of her.

"Sabo-kun," The woman in the light pink blouse wrapped her slender arms around the blonde's arm, shaking him hesitantly from left to right. "What's wrong with you? Are you alright?" She was almost whining, whimpering at the state of her superior. Almost fearing that the Mera Mera No Mi consumer froze in place.

"How," The stunned markswoman spoke again, comprehending the confrontation of a moment, she doubted since Luffy spoke the forbidden name. A scene, she dreamt of. Meeting him again, seeing him all grown up and becoming the person he talked about while watching the sun hide behind the horizon. "How are you alive? This must be a cruel joke," She shook her head, outstretching her arm and showing him her flat palm while stepping back. Some devil fruit user must be playing a very twisted, and sick game.

So, she aimed her crossbow at his figure. The steel head of the arrow pointed at the man's chest while being released with the simple twitch of her thumb and pointer finger. No, Sabo was dead, he was killed when they were still children. He never reached the first island, he never left the boat. They saw him and witnessed how the boat sank after burning. No, this wasn't Sabo, this couldn't be him. "You died! You fucking died twelve years ago. Stop using Sabo's image against us," She shouted, firing another one of her deadly arrows but it was no use. After eating the Logia Devil Fruit, his body was made of pure heat. Flames closed the hole in his stomach without pain and blood, and she stared at the sight. A familiar view, she witnessed when Ace toyed with his enemies until destroying their existence.

"No, you're not real,"

i like to think they knew each other before sabo got his memories back and their relationship was like this until sengoku was like uhhh why do you have that very famous revolutionary framed in a photograph with you on your desk and garp was like O:< REVOLUTIONARY??? *flashbacks to when younger sabo tricked him into doing something very stupid with lies and deceit. remembers he is the worst of his grandsons*

it's never dark when he's around 🔥

button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.

[part two] trouble - takuma ino

word count: 9k warnings: swearing, drinking, slight harassment (a creep puts his hand on reader's waist for 0.2 seconds) summary: she's only agreed to one night out- and that doesn't mean anything at all. it also doesn't mean anything that a few drinks has her admitting that ino's eyes are actually quite pretty. contents: rivals to begrudged friends, gojo!reader, nanami leaves the function at his first oppurtunity, ino and (y/n) have an alcohol fueled breakthrough.

part two: "got so much to prove" ___

Gojo Satoru was nothing like his sibling counterpart, and she was dead set on keeping it that way.  Where he was overbearing, she was uninvolved.  Where he was obnoxious, she was reserved.  For most of her life she could recall trying to steer herself into the opposite direction Satoru was heading.  

That was, until it came to sorcery.

If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have needed to crawl up a ladder to claim the Grade One title.  If it weren’t for him, she could’ve made a name for herself rather than live in the shadow that was their family name.  If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be stuck in this too-loud bar throwing back too-weak drinks.

Nanami didn’t seem too thrilled about having his evening decided for him, either.  He was nursing his third beer and the alcohol still hadn’t loosened him enough to lose the look of pure disinterest on his face.  (y/n) couldn’t blame him, seeing as she didn’t want to be here either.

Takuma, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.  He’d eagerly ordered them a round of shots despite their protests, claiming it was a right of passage for their first outing together.

“I’m not taking a shot,” Nanami had pushed his glass to the center of the table, refusing it as soon as it was set in front of him.  “I have to be home by eight” 

“Eight?” Takuma gasped incredulously at his early retirement.  “But Gojo’s car won’t be here till eleven-” 

“Dibs” (y/n) plucks the extra shot off the counter, tapping it once against the table before throwing it back with ease.  

The other two are left to stare at her in shock, neither knowing how to react.  She’s quick to chase it down with her own shot in rapid succession, not a single flinch or twitch from the burning sensation left in her throat.  Nanami and Takuma share a quick glance, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by the young Gojo.

“What?” She asks innocently, propping her elbow on the table to rest her chin in her hand.  “Been a long week, no?” 

“It’s just… Satoru doesn’t drink” Nanami shrugs at the simple statement, leaning back against his chair.

(y/n) pauses, her brow twitching in the smallest of movements.

Even without him around, she was being compared to him.  And hearing it come from Nanami, whom she’d spent years looking up to, snapped her final straw.

“Right…” She drawls the word out slowly, and Nanami waits all too patiently for whatever she had to say next.  “Well since it is our first outing, let’s establish this once and for all, shall we?” 

And then she grins, which sends warning flags up in Takuma’s mind when she leaves the table and approaches the bar.  He turns back to Nanami with his worry evident on his face.

“That’s not good,” He says in a hushed voice.  “I’ve only ever seen her smile like that when exorcizing curses” 

Nanami only chuckles half heartedly, more than familiar with the way the Gojo siblings’ shared wicked grin.

Ino’s not so amused, but he does his best to get excited when (y/n) comes back with a stronger drink and another round of shots for the three of them.  Nanami refuses this one as well, and this time they let it sit on the center of the table unclaimed.

To his surprise, she taps her shot glass against Ino’s when he picks it up, eyeing the auburn liquid with uncertainty.  This would be his second shot in the span of only ten minutes, and it would be her third.  There had to be some ploy behind it, right? 

“Whatever it takes to prove to you both I’m not my brother, name it,” (y/n) announces before throwing back the shot.  “It can be like a game!” She decides, eyes lighting up with the idea.  If she notices the way Nanami and Ino seem unsure and uncomfortable with the sudden swing in behavior, she doesn’t show it.

“A drinking game?” Ino asks, not quite following her train of thought.

“Sure,” She nods at him.  “Like a truth or drink sort of thing? That works” 

“I’ve got one, then,” Nanami leans back onto the table, suddenly joining the conversation.  His pupils seem surprised, but both excited in their own way to have him participate  “That Grade Two at the playground, last week, did you lie in your paperwork?” 

A more authentic looking beam stretches over (y/n’s) face, and she laughs as she considers taking a drink, but she supposes he’d have his answer if she did, so she might as well fess up.

“About the swingset being torn apart?” She asks with a raised brow.  “Yes, I lied about that” 

“You lied in your report?” Ino gasps in shock.  “What’d you say?” 

“She claimed the swings had been torn away from their posts before she arrived on the scene” Nanami explained with a huff.

That earned another gasp from Ino before he turned back to (y/n) with wide eyes and an awkward sort of smile, like he was excited to have caught her in something, even though she’d admitted to it herself.

“You chopped down a children’s playground?” 

“It was a swingset,” She corrected.  “And it’s structural integrity was fine.  The city could afford to replace the swing itself.  It’s practically just rope” 

Nanami shakes his head, although he’d already had an inkling her report on that assignment was less than truthful.  He had stopped by to take account of the damage done, and it seemed to him like the scraped metal of the playset’s structure could have only been chinked up by a large blade.  Like an axe.

A few more random questions come up between the two, most of them work related.  The questions are all over the place however, with Nanami trying to get her to admit to more discrepancies in her paperwork, and Ino trying to learn anything and everything he could.  So she never quite knew what was going to be asked of her.

More often than not, Nanami’s questions led to her drinking.  Whereas Ino’s…

“Do you have any tattoos?” 

She wants to laugh, and ask him if he’s sure that’s what he wants to know.  But Nanami’s already got her another two drinks down, so she finds herself lifting up the hem of her shirt, just enough to put her hip bone on display, earning shocked looks from both men as they stared holes into the ink on her skin.

“When did you get that?” Nanami asks, his eyebrows nearly to his hairline when (y/n) looks up at him with a lazy smirk.

“I was sixteen, and you weren’t around at the time” She states matter-of-factly.

Ino’s laughing, and maybe cheering as he throws back the rest of his drink and makes his way to the bar for another.  (y/n) wouldn’t admit that she was having a good time, but it was quite entertaining to watch their reactions.

“That’s enough insight for tonight” Nanami sighs before getting up from his seat.  (y/n) watches as he lifts his jacket from the back of his chair, loosely shrugging it on.  A small knot forms between her brows.

“You’re actually gonna leave?” She asks, and if he didn’t know any better, Nanami might think she’s frowning because she’s disappointed to see him leave.  

“I’ve already stayed later than I planned,” He answers dryly.  “But you should stay, Ino too,” He adds, nodding to the sorcerer at the bar desperately trying to get the bartender’s attention.  “Make your brother pick up the tab” 

“He said it was on you” (y/n) replies with a shrug, before taking a sip of her drink.  

Nanami rolled his eyes as he turned to go, grumbling something about how a Gojo could be trying to pass off the bill.  (y/n’s) laughing as he leaves, and he’s almost compelled to stay, just for the sake of watching her open up more than he’d seen in years, but he supposes he’s not the one who needs that tonight.

Ino’s surprised when he comes back to the table with a fresh drink and hand, only to find Nanami missing.  He glances at the empty seat with a furrowed brow before turning to (y/n), who shrugs.

“Guess he wasn’t kidding about turning in early” She muses, pushing the ice in her glass with her straw.  Ino seems to pout at that.

“Too bad, I thought we were having a good time” He says as he takes his seat across from her.

(y/n) regards him with a slight tilt of her head, as if he were a stranger she were noticing for the first time.  As always, his mask sat on top of his head, posed as a beanie, and as he turned away to glance across the crowded bar, she’d never noticed before, but the curve of his cheekbones were defined.  Sharp, even.  Her gaze continued to linger, noticing the same detail about his jawline.  Had she really never noticed before, or was the dim lighting doing him a favor by putting his facial features on display? 

“Is this your idea of a good time?” She asks suddenly, and his attention is swiveling back to her.  Even with the lights shifting across his face, the defined features still stuck out to her.  “Going out somewhere crowded and noisy?” 

Ino laughs at that, every part of his expression lighting up with his delight, and once again (y/n) wonders if someone’s purposefully messing with the lights to put a spotlight on him.

Her brother’s words from their last phone call start to penetrate her thoughts against her will.  She tries to shake them off, but it’s hard when his brown eyes gleam like honey when he looks at her.

“Well, drinks are a pretty important part.  This wouldn’t be fun without ‘em,” He says, and she shrugs in non-committed agreement.  “But it is fun.  I’m having fun, at least”

“It’s not…” She starts to tell him this wasn’t her ideal night out.  In actuality, she was more of a stay in and relax on the weekend kind of person.  Satoru did enough partying in his younger years to turn her off from it early on.  But Ino perks up as he awaits her response, and it didn’t feel right to tell him the full truth.  So she changes direction and tells him a half-lie.  “It’s not terrible” She finishes.

He’s grinning again, as though she’d just told him she was having the time of her life, and she can’t help the confused knot in her brow.  Could he really be so pleased over simply having a few drinks together? 

“I knew you’d have a good time if you just came!” He cheered, reaching his glass across the table to tap it against hers.  “You should’ve just accepted the invitation months ago” 

She takes a long drink, stalling to try and find the right thing to say.  She doesn’t want Ino to get the wrong idea, she’s not about to make this a regular thing.  No, this was a one time occurrence.  She stood by what she said all those months ago.  It was silly to make friends in this line of work.  She’d witnessed first hand, one too many times, just what companionship could cost.  One night out couldn’t possibly change that.

Something twists in her chest before she can remind him of that, and it prevents her from saying anything of the sort.  Instead, she changes the subject.

“Can I ask you a truth or drink question, now?” She leans forward in her seat a bit, resting her elbow on the table once more as she studies his eager expression.

“Shoot!” He agreed excitedly, and she can’t help the short laugh that escapes her.  She blames the alcohol.

“How do you stay so positive all the time?” She asks the question that had been nagging at her for longer than just the past couple hours.  He shakes his head slightly, not quite following the meaning of her question.  “Even on assignments, and doing your reports, you’re always…” She wiggles her fingers in front of her as she tries to find the right word to explain it.

Ino chuckles, before full on laughter takes over and his shoulders are shaking as he grins from ear to ear, almost proving her point before he could actually answer.

“I love what I do?” He answers like it’s a question, like he’s unsure if that’s what she’s even looking for.  “I’ve been working towards one goal my entire life, I might as well enjoy it, right?” 

She’s stunned silent for a minute.  There was a time where she would’ve said the same thing, when she was young and naive and thought her and her brother would take the jujutsu world by storm, side by side.  Before she realized that her entire life would be spent under the shadow cast by him owning the family name almost all for himself.  It was a large, infinite shadow.  And the longer she’d lived in it, the more her joy for her work turned into a necessity.  Until now, she hadn’t even realized just how much she’d come to despise every step it took to move forward in jujutsu society.

Ino took her silence to mean she was thinking too deeply about what he’d said, and a question of his own came to mind.

“Do you not enjoy it?” 

Her gaze rises from where she’d zoned out looking at her dwindling drink, finding Ino across from her looking almost concerned.  The longer she didn’t respond, the more his expression reminded her of the night he’d found her injured.

She clears her throat before opting out of answering, instead drinking down the last of the contents in her glass.  He raises a brow at her choice.

“Did you not want to tell me your answer, or did you not know the answer?” He asks.

“Is that another question?” She asks, a small smirk forming on her lips.  “Because I’ll have to order another drink” 

Ino laughs, and despite her trying not to, she can’t help but laugh with him.

“Another round?” He asks, and she thinks about it for a minute, before nodding, and getting up from her seat.  To her surprise, he follows her up to the bar, even though there was still a good quarter of his drink left.  She doesn’t comment on it.

They have to squeeze between bodies to stake a place at the bar, the two bartenders already quite busy with the amount of people waving at them for their attention.  It’s bound to take more than a couple minutes before they would get to place their order.

“Guess everyone had a rough week” (y/n) mumbles absentmindedly, and Ino glances down at her.

This wasn’t the first time he’d taken notice of her height- or lack thereof- but with having her so close she was nearly pressed into his side, it was hard not to notice.  About a head shorter than him, he had to tilt his head down to properly look at her, which he was only doing now because the alcohol buzzing in his system lifted the barriers of his anxiety.  Had he been sober, he’d have been far too weak to stare at her so blatantly.

Luckily due to the drinks they’d both had, (y/n) didn’t realize he was staring at her for a whole minute or so.  She’d been too focused on trying to catch eyes with one of the bartender’s to feel his eyes on her.  Even without being caught, he felt a flush creeping up his neck.

In another life, or hell, another universe, Ino wonders if things could have been different between them.  If she would’ve been less closed off, or maybe he could’ve been more laid back and met her level of reserved.  He wonders if they would’ve been closer friends, or maybe even something more than that.

Truthfully, when they’d first met, he’d instantly had a bit of a crush on her.  He’d never met the younger Gojo before the day he started working with Nanami on his promotion, but as soon as he’d laid eyes on her, he thought his heart was going to go into cardiac arrest and he’d die right there.  She was quiet, but he could tell behind her calculating expression that she was thoughtful, and cunning.  And so, so beautiful, that he’d stuttered all the way through introducing himself, even his own name he’d struggled to get out.  Looking back on it, he still felt embarrassed, but he was sure she’d long forgotten the interaction.  It wasn’t long after their meeting that she’d made her disinterest in him explicitly clear, and the sparks of feelings she’d ignited in him were stomped out into ash.

He felt like a fool for feeling that spark ignite again just standing beside her in this congested bar, but he couldn’t be imagining that things were different tonight, right? He was sure that she was opening up more of herself than he’d ever seen before, and maybe the alcohol played a part in that, but either way, he couldn’t get enough of it.  She was giving him crumbs of her life- an impulsive tattoo, her hopes to have a pet some day, a few reckless acts on assignments- and he was eating it all up with gratitude.  He couldn’t help but want to learn more, wanting to press further until she couldn’t possibly deny that she enjoyed confiding in him as much as he enjoyed being in her company.

He knows he can’t be imagining things, because when she finally feels his stare and looks up at him, she doesn’t scowl, or spit out some cruel comment about it.  Her brows twitch slightly, drawing together in a confused expression when he doesn’t immediately look away like she would’ve expected.  He’s close enough that he can see the way a ghost of a smile hovers at the corners of her lips, and the way her cheeks warm up with color.  It makes that microscopic spark of old feeling in his chest burn a little brighter.

A nervous laugh falls from her lips, and it’s so uncharacteristically cute that he’s smiling now, and he feels like an absolute dope for staring at her and smiling like an idiot, but it can’t be helped.  He can’t be helped.

“What?” She asks, breathless and curious, her eyes shifting between his as though trying to find the source of this behavior, but instead she only finds warm pools of brown that almost resemble the rum and cokes she’s been enjoying all night.

And then all at once it’s almost too much.  She’s suddenly aware of how close she is to him, their arms brushing together, or if he tilted his head just a little further down he could easily push his nose against hers and-

Her eyes widen at the derailing of her train of thought, the soft expression of surprise on her face more recognizable than she would’ve liked, and she could tell that it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ino, as he’s now regarding her with intrigue, wondering what was going through her mind.

The idea of him knowing she’d nearly gotten lost in thought at the idea of kissing him made her chest ache, and she badly wanted to tear her gaze away from his, lean over the bar and demand to be serviced so they could get away from the crowded space as quickly as possible.

What an idiotic, drunken thought to have.  Kissing a colleague, how much more foolish could she possibly be? She tries to shake it off as a pesky intrusive thought.  Nothing more than the alcohol pressuring her into making a reckless decision.

But she’s frozen before him, her eyes locked on his like she was stuck in a trance, trapped by her own nerves.  The eye contact was going to kill her, especially with how soft his gaze was.  It wasn’t like anything she was used to.  It wasn’t setting her on fire from it’s heat.  The way he looked at her made her feel like she’d just cozied up in front of a fireplace after a cold day.  It almost scared her how warm it made her chest feel.

She’s opening her mouth before she even settled on what she needed to say.

“Takuma, we should probably get go-” 

She’s interrupted before she could finish telling him they needed to leave.  It almost saves her, seeing as she didn’t have a very decent excuse as to why they needed to end the night early, but there’s little time for relief when the unwelcome hand of a stranger settles on her waist, stealing her attention away from Ino’s.

“You waitin’ for a drink, sweetheart?” 

She vaguely registers that the stranger with the breath that reeked of booze was speaking to her, before she’s reacting on instinct.

The grabby hand on her hip is pried off with ease, her strength easily overpowering his in less than a second.  No amount of alcohol would be enough to hinder her reflexes.  The stranger cries out in shock and pain as she twists his arm back behind him, likely spraining his shoulder with how fast she pushes it into an uncomfortable position.  The sly expression on the man’s face is contorted into one of great pain, and only when he begins to cry out for her to stop does she stop pushing.  Her desire to feel the bone snap under her strength starts to melt away when she sees tears in his eyes.

“You’re lucky I didn’t break your hands so you’d learn to keep your mitts to yourself” She mutters, releasing him with a slight shove.  The drunken stranger stumbles backwards, still sniffling and gawking in shock from the whole ordeal.

The woman he’d tried to pick up is still scowling, and she looks like she’s still undecided in letting him go, the way her lip curls into a snarl and her eyes seem to pierce right through his soul.  The man beside her looks no different, rage evident in the way his brows furrow and his jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together roughly.  He has one hand on the edge of the bar, as close to where she stands as he could get without pushing himself against her completely.  His knuckles are paling by the second, gripping so hard one could almost assume he was about to rip a chunk of oak clean out of the counter.  His other hand is on his head, roughly grabbing at the edge of his hat.  

Even the non-sorcerer that was this stranger got a bad feeling emanating from the two, and he scurried off without another word.  (y/n’s) eyes rolled dramatically at the pathetic display, but as she turned back to Ino, she could almost laugh at the sight of him ready to pull his mask over his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and there’s not a crack in his expression as he glances over her with concern pouring out of every pore.  

He loses his grip on the bar, hand hovering over her shoulder but not quite touching her, not knowing if physical contact would be a comfort right now.  It’s odd, feeling like for once she was the Gojo with the shield of Infinity.

“I’m fine,” She tells him, and she means it, but she can tell he’s not so convinced.  “But just out of curiosity, what was your plan here?” She asks, cracking a smile as she flicks the edge of his mask, still bunched up at the top of his head.

“I- I don’t know,” Ino answers sheepishly.  “If he didn’t leave you alone I guess I was just gonna wing it” He admits.

She regards him for a moment, letting the answer sink in.  Her smile widens a bit when she laughs softly, almost fondly, as she really thinks about it.  She softens again, just like she had moments ago, before the creep ruined it.

“Well, for what it’s-” 

“Hey, you two need to leave,” 

The pair or sorcerers do a double take when one of the bartenders finally gives them their attention, but not for the reason they’d wanted.

“What?” (y/n) asks, certain they had the wrong patrons.

“We weren’t doing anything?” Ino’s brows furrow as the bartender looks them both up and down.

“I don’t care for the details.  We can’t have a commotion like that in the bar.  If you’re going to cause trouble, do it somewhere else” 

“But the guy was the one who-!” 

Before Ino could finish his explanation, the bartender was shoving a finger towards the door, an expectant look on their face that told them not to argue any further, unless they wanted to cause more trouble.

“Whatever,” (y/n) huffs.  “This bar’s a dump anyways” 

And before the bartender could react, she was grabbing Ino by the arm and pulling him away from the bar.  She was on a mission for the door, eager to leave a place if she wasn’t wanted.  All Ino could do was silently follow along, his mind barely processing the whole ordeal until they were outside, where it was significantly quieter.

It was darker than he’d expected, although he was well aware of the time, it was a shock to be out on the dark sidewalk with the stars on full display above them.  He glances up at the sky to admire them for a moment, until realization strikes him and he’s whirling around to look at her again.

“What about our tab?” 

(y/n) blinks back at him, her expression unwavering.

“Guess we won’t be welcomed back, either” She says, and Ino stares at her in shock as he processes the statement.

“Well then we better get moving” 

(y/n) hadn’t intended to end up at another bar.  In fact, before the handsy stranger made things weird, she’d been looking for an excuse to end the night early.  However, her words betrayed her when Takuma suggested another little dive not far down the street, and that’s where she found herself now.

This place wasn’t as crowded as the last, so she felt comfortable walking in and claiming a small corner booth.  By the time someone came by for their order, she’d already stretched out across the length of the leather cushion, back pressed to the window comfortably.  Ino had chuckled at how cozy she’d made herself, but didn’t comment on it.

Once their first round- at this establishment- of drinks came around, he’d excitedly started up their previous game again.

“Would you have really broken that guy’s hands?” He asks, and (y/n) doesn’t even lift her drink to pretend she wouldn’t answer.

“Without a doubt,” She hums, spinning the ice in her glass with her straw.  “Sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way, right?” She asks him with a mischievous grin that tells him she might’ve done worse had the moment felt right.  “My turn?” She asks, and he nods, crossing his arms over the table as he gave her his undivided attention.  “Which little beast of yours would you have summoned?” 

“Kaichi” 

He answers with so much bluntness she raises her brows at him, surprised by his complete lack of thought before speaking.  She hums, nodding her head in quiet agreement that impaling the stranger with one of those horns would have been the best method of defense.

“Has that… happened before?” 

“The random guy hitting on me part? Or the part where I threatened a man’s hands?” She asks, and Ino doesn’t seem to have the proper clarification for her question, so she shrugs, and doesn’t drink to the question.

“No, that’s never happened before” 

She takes a few sips after she’s answered, hoping to keep up the buzz she had going.  Ino’s fingers tap rhythmically against the table as he processes her answer.  He seems unaffected at first, but slowly, confusion begins to seep into his features.

“Wait, so you’re saying no one’s ever hit on you, either?” 

“You already asked that one”

“Well then I’m asking again” 

(y/n) begins to pull her glass towards her, ready to take another drink, but maybe the alcohol gets on top of her a bit as she answers the question before she could evade it.

“No, I’ve never been hit on.  I don’t think, anyways.  But I think I’d probably know if I was” 

It comes out like word vomit, babbled out like her thoughts were on a direct pipeline to being voiced.  She doesn’t mean to share so much, but she finishes with a shrug of her shoulders, and raises her glass to sip some more.

“You really never go out, huh?” He asks, taking a drink as well.

“What, getting hit on is the true price you pay for going out?” She asks with a short laugh, not following the connection between the two.  Ino nods his head from side to side, indecisive in his response.

“Not always, just, y’know, figured it’d happen a lot if you didn’t stay in all the time”

By the time he realizes the implications of that statement, it’s already too late.  Ino nearly chokes on his drink when (y/n) tilts her head at him, realization slowly flickering over her features.

“You’re saying people would hit on me a lot if I went out more?” She asks skeptically.

He considers pulling his mask over his face in order to conceal the growing heat in his cheeks.  Not that it would help, the damage had already been done with his loud mouth.

“I didn’t mean it like that-” 

“Well how did you mean it then?” She asks, suddenly swiveling her legs to sit upright against the table, plopping her chin in her hands to study him properly.  

She always had a way of looking at him with calculation in her eyes, as if she was sizing him up like a curse.  Right now, he doesn’t know what to make of the way she stares at him.  There’s that familiar look in her eyes that makes him wonder just what it is she’s looking for, but the softness in her smile was unfamiliar territory, and Ino didn’t have the slightest clue of what to make of it. Was it amusement? Did she take sick joy in watching him fluster and stutter? Or could it be the alcohol to blame? Perhaps it was loosening her up, and any semblance of delight was merely the booze entertaining her.  The most outlandish reason would have been fondness, but there simply wasn’t a chance in the freezing depths of hell that she was actually growing fond of his company, was there?

“I just meant, y’know,” He gestures his hand towards her, pathetically trying to explain his thought process.  She shakes her head in a small motion, not understanding his poor attempt at reason in the slightest.  “Like, you… you’re… you know”

Ino would really rather be anywhere else right now, preferably somewhere that wasn’t so hot his collar was sticking to his neck and his throat was closing up, but then (y/n) begins to laugh, and he huffs out a sigh in aggravation, and ultimately decides to take a long drink.

“Fair enough,” She muses at his choice.  “It’s not a terrible assumption to make, I suppose.  My brother is acquainted with every eligible man and woman in the city, after all” She says, only half joking.  Ino seems to find a great deal of amusement in that, grinning and laughing, although he can’t say he’s that surprised.

“For the record, I wasn’t comparing you to him in that assumption,” He says.  “I just figured you’d… attract your own attention” He says.

There’s an undeniable flutter in her chest, and she wished she could say she hated the way it spread a tingle of warmth throughout her entire body.  It wasn’t like she’d never received that sort of attention from others, but it had been so long since she entertained the idea that it was starting to feel a little foreign.  And having Ino of all people assume that there were a line of suitors out the door waiting for her hand had her insides turning with the near unfamiliar sensation of butterflies.

Her silence is making him anxious, his fingers tapping against the table no longer playing a steady beat.  They mimicked the rapid increase in his heartbeat.  Wild and unsteady and with no sign of relaxing.

“That so?” When she finally does speak it’s soft, nearly a whisper, as if she didn’t quite believe him.  “Are you an expert in that field, then?” 

She catches the way his eyes land on his drink, which was now empty, so there wasn’t exactly an out for the question.  When his gaze shifts back up to hers, he finds she hasn’t looked away from him yet.

“What field?” He plays dumb, and her smile curls into a slight smirk.

“Flirting, courting, whatever you want to call it” (y/n) answers with ease, fiddling with the straw in her drink as she impatiently waits for his answer.  He eyes his empty glass once more.

“No, I’m no expert,” He huffs, a deep frown on his face for having to admit something so embarrassing.  “You timed that on purpose” 

“I did not!” She argues, but her nervous laughter gives her away.  She’s not as good at lying when she’s drunk apparently, and he might just have to store that information for later.

“My drink was empty! That was a trap!” 

She has to cover her mouth to try and suppress the giggles coming out of her uncontrollably.  He’s still embarrassed, but her laughter was contagious.  Anyone passing by or glancing over at the loud laughter pouring out of their booth would assume they were having nothing but a good time.  And for a few seconds at a time, Ino could pretend they were, too.

To keep things fair, (y/n) finishes the last few sips of her drink, before sliding both glasses to the end of the table.

“Alright, your turn then,” She says, a small hiccup punctuating the offer.  “You must have something good saved up your sleeve?” 

He thinks about it for a moment, folding his arms over the table and subconsciously leaning over it to get closer to her.  With his eyes wandering the bar as he racks his brain for a good question she couldn’t avoid answering, she was able to properly gaze at him without getting caught.  Just like at the previous bar, she gets a little lost in thought as she maps out every feature of his face.  There was nothing forgettable about Takuma Ino, but she found herself trying to commit it all to memory anyways.

That flutter in her chest hadn’t gone away, and the longer it prevailed the more she began to sink into the feeling.  It’s relaxing, the way time slows down, and the buzz sends goosebumps prickling up her arms.  She would have never thought she could find this much comfort in this setting, but to her, this booth was the only thing in her world.

“Would you do this again?” He finally settles on a question, and it’s clear that it’s not what she expected, judging by the way her eyes slightly widen from being caught off guard.

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out right away.  It’s as though he’d wiped her mind completely blank, not even a weak excuse coming to mind.  The fuzzy feeling in her chest turns to static, sharp and cold before disappearing completely, leaving behind nothing but an emptiness that stings as it lingers.  Her smile slowly falls as reality begins to seep back into their booth, reminding her of why she’d kept him beyond arm’s length all this time.

Deep down, she wonders if she always knew this would happen.  She wondered if self preservation took over as soon as she met him because if it hadn’t, she would’ve let him get too close a long, long time ago.  Guilt claws it’s way up from her gut to her throat, strangling her to keep her from saying the wrong thing first.

Ino’s sure he already has his answer when she doesn’t say anything right away.  It’s written all over her face, the way she winces, and shuffles uncomfortably in her seat.  Disappointment doesn’t begin to cover what he feels as he looks away from her, trying and failing to keep his face neutral.

“Got it” He mutters, catching the eye of a passing server and signaling for the check.  (y/n) frowns.

“Takuma, I…” She starts, but her throat still burns, and she struggles to find the right thing to say that won’t make things worse.  “I tried to tell you that tonight was just-” 

“I know,” He replies.  It makes her blood run cold, the way his voice lacks it’s usual chipper tone.  Now it holds nothing.  He’s so painfully emotionless that she almost wishes he would just get angry with her.  “You made that clear” 

They’re completely silent when a server comes back with the check, the tension turning awkward as soon as another person enters their bubble.  They must pick up on it, because they’re quick to bid them a good night before rushing away.

(y/n) drops the money on the table, and Ino’s out of his seat and headed for the door before she could even stand.  She huffs as she follows after him, although he stops just outside the door.  His heart was too good to leave her completely stranded, even though he wasn’t sure he could take another minute of being around her.

“Takuma, look, it’s not like it’s personal-” 

He scoffs, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at her.  She’s shocked to see the glare on his features, and if he wasn’t so irritated, he might’ve noticed the hurt on her face from the sharp look.

“If you tell me one more time just how not personal it is, I think I’m going to scream, (y/n),” He snaps, and in all the times she’s had this conversation with him and butted heads, she’s never heard him talk like that.  All she can do is stand there pathetically and accept it.  “Because it’s bullshit.  You know it, I know it, shit, Nanami knows it” 

“It’s not,” She mumbles, shaking her head.  “It’s not bullshit, I just-” 

“You don’t care about anything but becoming Grade One, I know,” He finishes the statement for it.  “You don’t care about drinks, and you don’t care about me.  Trust me, I remember,” 

A pout settles on her lips, and for the first time in a long time, she wants to cry.

“You know I actually-” Ino pauses to let out a humorless laugh, eyes fleeting across the busy streets as he finds twisted amusement in the way he’d fallen for this whole charade.  “I actually thought you were having a good time, I actually, stupidly believed that maybe you-” He stops again, not wanting to sound more idiotic than he already did.  

After tonight, as soon as they part ways, things would go back to the way they were, and she’d probably pretend nothing ever happened.  He’s not sure he was going to be able to survive that, even after all of this time accepting that she had no interest in him.  Ino doesn’t think he could go back to the way things were.

But fuck it, if this was going to be the last time she talked to him, he wasn’t going to lay back and take it.  He was going to put all the cards on the table.

“You know I care about you, don’t you? You have to know that.  Even if you can’t be friends or partners you- you have to know that.  You’re not dumb, (y/n), so don’t act like it,” 

She has to curl her hands into fists at her sides to keep control of the tears in her eyes.  She couldn’t dare let them spill over.

“But you’re so so stubborn, I’ve never met anyone like you,” He huffs, and the smile on his face is conflicting with the way he spits the words out like poison.  “You’re nothing like Satoru.  I’ve never thought so.  All these walls you put up to keep people from getting close to you so you don’t happen to stumble on the same path he did- because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? You’d rather shelter yourself from everything than risk getting a little hurt?” 

Her bottom lip wobbles with emotion, and she turns away so she doesn't have to look at him.  She wished some mysterious force would suck her away from this moment and land her in the safety of her bed where she never had to face the consequences of her actions.  It was childish, but she couldn’t bear to argue with him right now.

“You’re drunk” She mumbles to the sidewalk.

“You’re drunk,” He repeats incredulously, his hands flying outward.  “You think I don’t know you because you won’t, just once, let someone get close to you,” He rants, “But you know what the worst part is, (y/n)? You’re only going to get hurt anyways.  And you have,” He gestures to her shoulder, making her defensively hold a hand over where the scars are hidden beneath her clothes.  Her brows furrow as she opens her mouth to argue, but he beats her to it.  “And then- while I was worried about you, because damn it there was so much blood, I thought you might die, you took it out on me! You got mad at me and pushed me away, again.  Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” 

It’s only when his rant starts to die down that he realizes she’s barely looking at him because her eyes are glossy, and he knows damn well that she’s fighting every urge to cry.  He doesn’t know if she’s emotionally on edge because of him, or the alcohol making her sensitive, but either way, he sighs in defeat, and his shoulders slump from the weight of all of the thoughts he’d been carrying for the last few months.

“I- I know that you care,” She says weakly, her voice more strained than she would have liked.  “I just don’t get it, okay? It doesn’t make sense.  You don’t make sense.  I don’t- I- I can’t-” Her stutters come out in a whimper and she’s looking away again, desperately trying to compose herself before she could do something embarrassing.  

There were still people out and about even this late into the night, more than enough people to overhear their argument in the middle of the sidewalk.  Normally, she’d call her brother’s driver and leave without putting up with this argument.  But she can’t bring herself to do such a thing right now.  Not with the way he’s looking at her like she just destroyed the moon and all of it’s stars.

“My whole life has been wasted trying to prove something that I- that just isn’t possible,” 

The admission comes out in a shaky whisper.  She’s never voiced it before, but now is as good a time as any of he’s really so desperate to understand why she was wired this way.

“I don’t even understand why I was born, Takuma.  My parents had no interest in me.  They already had Satoru.  For as long as I could remember, I was only around to follow behind my big brother while the entire world bent over backwards to give him everything.  Attention, money, fame, candy apples- that’s what’s bullshit,” It comes out bitter and nasty, her nose wrinkling as she thinks back to every event she was forced to dress up and go to, only to be ignored, cast aside, and forgotten about completely while Satoru skipped around and received everything he could ever want.  “And I just can’t- can’t understand what anyone could ever want from me, I have nothing,” 

She hadn’t noticed the tears leaking from her eyes until there’s a pair of warm hands cupping her face, thumbs gently pushing them away.  She doesn’t want to look at him, not with all of the shame she felt just being comforted by him, but a stronger part of her can’t help but stare at him.  She hadn’t expected such sudden gentleness from him, and she hadn’t realized just how long it had been since someone had last comforted her.  When was the last time someone wiped her tears? Or touched her so softly that even in the frigid evening brought warmth to her skin? 

“Explain it to me,” She pleas quietly.  “Why- why would you possibly want to be around me?” 

Her eyes shift between his, but he’s too focused on clearing away each tear rolling down her cheeks.  She sniffles, and her hands reach up to grab his wrists.  Ino thinks she might yank him away, but she doesn’t.  She simply stands there with a solid grip on him.

“You are drunk,” He says quietly, just a hint of amusement in his eyes as he finally meets her sorrowful gaze.  “Don’t cry, (y/n), I didn’t mean to make you cry,” 

But it’s too late, she can’t stop the tears from streaming down her face now.

“I told you, I care about you, we’re partners, yeah?” He offers, but her expression is unrelenting.  “Have you considered maybe I don’t want you to get hurt, either?” 

Tears stick to her lashes when she blinks, and she has to bite down on her cheek to keep her lips from trembling.  He’s so close that he’d be sure to notice, but he also notices the clench in her jaw.

Every instinct she’d trained herself on is telling her to push him away.  Even if it meant physically shoving him off of her.  He’s too close in every sense of the word, breaching every wall she’d built brick by brick.

But something else nags at her, something far more sinister and cruel.  It pushes her forward, and has her clenching her hands around his wrists tighter as she stands before him in all of her pathetic glory.  Tears still pouring down her cheeks and her lower lip still wobbling, she swallows her pride.

“I’m sorry,” 

It’s quiet, but not because it’s ingenuine.  In fact it’s the opposite.  With a raw throat came a strained voice, so full of emotion she couldn’t possibly raise her voice any louder than the murmur that came out.

Ino blinks, his eyes widening in the slightest as he stares back at her in shock.  The entire night had been full of surprises, but now it had certainly taken a turn and set him on a path where he could see no clear ending.

“Takuma, I’m- I’m so sorry,” She continues, eyes glossing over again.  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I shouldn’t have said all those terrible things to you I- I didn’t mean any of it,” 

She’s shaking her head so rapidly it makes her a bit dizzy with the alcohol still in her system, but she doesn’t care if she sways a little.  She only wants to convey to him just how serious she was, and how important it was to her that he understood that.

“I think… I think you’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever met,” She continues, and slowly, the tears come to a stop.  “I’ve never known anyone as… as caring as you,” 

Her voice softens, a nervous shyness creeping in for admitting something so vulnerable.  But she wasn’t sure if she’d ever work up the courage to say something like this to him again, so it was now or never.

“And I know you’d never hurt me, b-because I’m… I’m the one who was hurting you,” He opens his mouth, likely to argue with that statement, but she was quick to keep going before he got the chance to interrupt.  “But I don’t think you understand that… that losing you would mean hurting me, too” She finishes, brows pinched together as they both sit for a moment to process it all.

Ino sighs, his thumbs wiping away the last of her tears, yet he keeps his hands cupped around her face.  A part of him was paranoid that if he let her go now, she might slip away once and for all.  The other, louder part knew that with the grip she had on his arms, neither one of them were going anywhere.

And so he tells her just that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He assures her, a confident smile stretching across his face.  “You’re not losin’ me.  Promise” 

She snorts at that, the tiniest of laughs escaping her in a mere breath.

“You can’t promise something like that,” She scolds.  “In this line of-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ino shakes his head dismissively.  “Too late.  Already promised.  So it’s set in stone,” 

She stares up at him with wide eyes, so lost in trying to understand him in his entirety that she doesn’t even know what to say next.  Had he forgiven her so easily? How could he say such a thing with as much assurance as he did? 

“As long as you can promise to drop the tough guy act and just… be the tough guy you already are,” He says, only half kidding, “Then I can promise that I’m not leaving you” He offers, tilting his head to the side as he gazes down at her fondly, admiring the way the corners of her lips begin to twitch into a smile.

“Okay,” She whispers, so quiet he only knew she said it from the way her lips moved around the word.  “I promise” ___

From that day forward, (y/n) worked more and more to loosen up around him.  It wasn’t easy at first, and the first day was the hardest.  The Monday back at work was a bit awkward, after she’d spent an entire weekend nursing a hangover, with an overbearing brother pestering her for the details.  Ino had brought her and Nanami coffee that first morning, and she’d made an effort to eat her lunch with him every day that week.

Then the week after that she began to accompany him on his coffee runs as well, spending the extra time chatting mindlessly and getting to know one another better.

A few weeks after that the two of them went out for drinks one evening, until that too became a part of the routine.  Once a month or so they’d go out to any new bar Ino could find and waste away as much of an evening as they could.

Slowly but surely, partnership grew into genuine friendship- something (y/n) hadn’t felt for a long, long time.  And Ino made sure to never let her forget it.  Whether it was remembering her favorite drink order, or watching an entire series she’d said she liked one time, he took her companionship seriously.  The more she got to know him, the harder he made it not to fall for him.

But, god, was falling for him one of the easiest things that’s ever come to her in this life.  It was unavoidable, unstoppable, uncontrollable.  No matter how much she tried to fight it, the way her heart raced whenever he was around was distinct to feelings only he could spark.  And the way her eyes searched for him first in a crowd was more than enough proof that her fondness for him had grown well past platonic.

It might have been silly to be surprised by her feelings when she’d finally realized that’s what the swell in her chest was all about.  After the incident that was their drunken night out where she’d torn herself apart at the seams before him- they don’t talk about that night, and she can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it out of favor for her, or if he’s just as embarrassed about it as she was- she found herself getting lost when thinking about him more often.

It ranged anywhere from how his eyes were their prettiest when they would leave Jujutsu Tech in the early evening.  With the sun low in the sky, rays of light caught them just right and made them appear to be the most brilliant, shining amber she’s ever seen.  

Satoru loved to brag about his baby blues to anyone who would listen, throwing his shades off with dramatic flare as he’d bat his eyelashes at unsuspecting victims.  Ever so full of himself, he loved the attention he’d get for the outrageously bright blue hue of his eyes.  When directed at her, (y/n) tended to scoff and tell him that his Six Eyes was far more worthy of bragging about than the damn color of them.

More recently, she’d shrugged her shoulders before directing her attention elsewhere.  “I prefer brown eyes” She’d told him carelessly.  At the time he’d pouted over it, whining about how his little sister thought he was ugly.  But ever since seeing her grow closer to her partner, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who’s brown eyes she was talking about.

As much as she indulges herself in these thoughts- wondering how soft his lips were, remembering how gentle his hands had been when he’d touched her- she knows she can’t act on them.  Not after everything she’d already put him through getting their working relationship this far.  If she were to admit to him now that she was catching romantic feelings for him, it would be humiliating.  And she was humiliated enough as it is.  So she swore to herself they would remain hidden deep, deep down, under a lock and key- with said metaphorical key being thrown into a fire and melted down into a clump of misshapen chunk metal.   Then she threw that metaphorical chunk of metal into a metaphorical ocean. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[part one] trouble - takuma ino

word count: 7.5k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence (reader gets stabbed) summary: (y/n) only wants one thing- to be a grade one sorcerer- and she knows that forming friendships is the last thing that's going to get her that title. so why does takuma ino insist on trying to get close to her? contents: enemies/rivals to lovers semi-slowburn, gojo!reader

part one: "got so much to lose" ___

Being assigned a mentor that she idolized for a good portion of her life, (y/n) couldn’t have been happier the day she got the news.  She was certain that with her powerful cursed technique and his guidance she could be promoted to a Grade One Sorcerer in no time.

More than anything, all she’d ever wanted in life was to be a strong jujutsu sorcerer.  Being the strongest wasn’t exactly an available position, seeing as her brother had taken the title before she was even born.  Just because they got along well didn’t mean she couldn’t be bitter about it.  Surpassing Satoru may have been impossible.  But she’d give sorcery her everything in order to get as close as possible- until only his infinity kept her from taking the title.

The only thing that could’ve possibly thrown a wrench in her plans would’ve been having to divide Nanami’s attention with another sorcerer.  Which shouldn’t have been a problem.

And then there was Takuma Ino.

Bright eyed, quick witted, smart ass, Takuma Ino.

(y/n) had Nanami’s guidance to herself for one glorious week before he showed up and stole half of his time and attention all for himself.  She didn’t believe there could be a person more selfish than her brother, but Takuma was a close second.  Going to the higher ups himself to ask for Nanami to bestow him the honor of Grade One because of a childish adoration for him made (y/n’s) stomach twist the day he joined them.

She’d never met him before that day, never even knew of him or his cursed technique, but as strong as he allegedly might have been, she knew right off the bat there wasn’t a chance she could get along with him.  Not when he swooped in and stole her mentor.

On the other hand, Takuma Ino couldn’t take a hint.  Days turned into weeks and he had yet to break the ice with her in between assignments and training.  At first he didn’t think much of it, it only made sense for the other half of the Gojo siblings to be a little more closed off than her extroverted older brother.  So when every invitation to after-work drinks or questions about her personal life got brushed off or ignored completely, Ino tried to let it go.  Surely with time they would get closer, right? They were both working under Nanami together, so at some point time had to play a hand in things.

Or so he thought.

Weeks turned into nearly three months, and his positive attitude started to dim with hopelessness.  Even then, he’d made an effort with her.  This time though, rather than try to casually get closer, he addressed his thoughts exactly.

“Gojo, wait up,” 

He caught her one night after finishing up some paperwork later than usual.  The pair had gotten a bit caught up with a Grade One Curse that put them through a few more setbacks than usual, thus an extra lengthy report having to be completed before the end of the day.

To his surprise, she’d whirled around on the front steps of the school as soon as he called for her, completely frozen in place, and staring at his approaching figure with an expression he didn’t know how to read.

“Hey, weird question,” He started with an awkward smile, his hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck with his nervous energy.  She didn’t say anything, just watched him fumble before her, tracking the nervous movements.  “But did I do something to upset you? We’ve just been working together for a while, and it sort of feels like you don’t like me” 

(y/n) blinks at him, remaining silent for just long enough to make his discomfort spike.

“Is that all?” She asks, furrowing her brow slightly at him.

“Wh- I mean, yeah, I guess,” He stammers over his answer, not quite understanding the question.  “It’s just… you never want to grab a coffee or talk much, and we’re gonna be working together for a while longer so-” 

“I don’t think so,” She shakes her head, her expression unwavering, and her tone just even enough to keep him from picking up on the animosity behind it.  “I think that our little partnership here will be over soon enough.  Once I’m promoted,” 

Ino doesn’t quite react to that, opening and closing his mouth once and then twice as he tries to figure out what he’s supposed to respond with.  (y/n) always carried a strong aura of confidence when on assignments, she was sure of herself when it came to the action and the tracking.  Even her reports were concise but held a perfect attention to detail.  But her confidence in herself now felt off somehow, definitely different from what he was used to.

“Does that answer your question?” She asks, waiting patiently a few steps below him.

A knot forms between his brows as he shakes his head back at her, slowly and unsurely.

“Gojo, I just want us to get to know each other bett-” 

“Well for starters, don’t call me by my family name.  I hate it.  Just call me (y/n),” She interrupts him, annoyance beginning to shine through in her voice.  “There, now you know something.  Happy now?” 

Ino can only stand before her in shock, never having had a conversation that wasn’t related to an assignment that lasted this long, and this certainly wasn’t the direction he wanted it to go.  But nothing could have prepared him for this.

“I mean, why do you even need me to like you? Isn’t Nanami’s approval enough?” The sudden question catches him completely off guard, and all Ino can do is stand in place and hear her out.  “Isn’t that your whole thing?” She adds with a scoff.  “Isn’t that why you’re here? Because you just had to have him as your mentor?” 

He was barely following the root cause of her aggravation, but she couldn’t possibly have been jealous, could she? It’s not like much changed, she wasn’t missing out on assignments or extra training time because he’d requested to work with Nanami.  So Ino was led to believe that the only possible source of distaste for him had to have been personal.

“Truth is, Takuma, I don’t care about drinks, and I don’t care about getting to know you,” She deadpans, completely unresponsive to the way the words clearly hurt his feelings with the way his face falls and his shoulders slump.  “My only goal here is to be promoted to Grade One, and I’ve known Nanami long enough to know he is the fastest route to that, you understand, right?” 

No, he doesn’t understand.  He understands the surface level of her goal, it was something he could relate to, hence why he believed they’d make an even better team if they strengthened their bond.  However, Ino couldn’t wrap his mind around the coldness that was her driving force of achieving that goal.

“I want that too,” He tells her honestly.  “I thought that make us better partners” 

“We’re not partners,”

The words are harsh, but her tone keeps that same annoying steady level, and it’s hard for him to be irritated with her when all he really feels is hurt and confusion.

“And it’s silly to try and make friends in this line of work.  You should be grateful enough to have a colleague” 

That was the end of the conversation.  Ino vaguely remembers a short wave of her hand when she left him on those steps and made her way home, but it wasn’t as clear of an image as the rest of their exchange.  In a twisted way, he had gotten what he wanted.  He learned a little more about Gojo (y/n).  He learned that she was a cold, uncaring woman that didn’t live for anything except being the strongest she could be.  Even if it meant shutting good things out of her life, apparently. ___

From that day on, Ino never tried to get close to her again.  He was as polite and cordial as was necessary, but there was an obvious shift in the way he treated her.  Even Nanami noticed in the first week after their talk on the stairs.  Ino was usually a chatterbox, so it would be impossible to not notice when he shut up.  

It took a good month or two before the older sorcerer felt a need to address it, and when he did, it certainly caught (y/n) by surprise.

She’d been sorting through hers and Ino’s reports of an assignment they’d gone on, debriefing Nanami on it while he nursed his second coffee of the day.  So when he cut off her explanation of when she’d applied her cursed technique to deliver the final blow and exorcize the thing, she looked startled.

“What happened with you and Ino, anyways?” 

Her lips remained parted, having been interrupted mid sentence, but she’s completely still for a few seconds as she processes the unexpected question.

“Nothing?” She replies with a tone of cluelessness.  “You know I don’t like to be interrupted” 

“My apologies,” Nanami says with a short chuckle that tells her he didn’t care much for her preferences.  “But something happened, he’s been acting differently, don’t you think?” 

She narrows her eyes slightly, sensing the thinly veiled attempts at prying.  Nanami was never one to get involved in interpersonal relationships, so he must have had good reason for asking her about this now, but she couldn’t dream of what could possibly be so intriguing to him.

“Yeah,” She shrugs in mock defeat.  “He takes it personally that I don’t want to get drinks every single night after work or something,” She tries to brush it off.  “You know that’s not my thing.  Anyways, back to this report-” 

“Seems like you were a little harsher than that,” Nanami interrupts again, setting his mug down to fold his hands together over his desk.  “Don’t you think?” 

(y/n) sighs, and finally drops the stack of papers on his desk.

“This is ridiculous,” She huffs as she stares at him with a bored look.  “It’s not like it’s affecting his performance, so what does it even matter?” 

“You’ve been burying yourself again” Is all Nanami replies with.

(y/n) clenches her jaw.  The downside of having a mentor that knew her so well meant that he could read her better than most people.  He simply sits and waits with all the patience in the world for her to say something, also knowing that she was just dying for him to move their attention back to the report.

When he doesn’t, (y/n) rolls her eyes.

“Okay, with everything going on with…” She trails off, not wanting to say Geto’s name out of habit.  She’d spent so long walking on eggshells around the subject that even now, without Satoru present, she finds her throat closing up before her mouth could even form the shape of his name.  “If this parade of his is really happening, then you and I both know that Satoru will finally have to kill him” 

Her words are still blunt, even without saying his name.

Nanami remains still, but she can tell his neutral expression is beginning to crack.

“I just don’t want to lose my focus.  I need… I need to be prepared for anything” She tells him surely.

Nanami’s known (y/n) since she was eleven years old.  Which is long enough for him to understand the complicated relationship she had with her brother.  While she loved him and respected him greatly, it was no secret that she felt inadequate in comparison.  Back then, at least, she wasn’t as good at hiding her feelings.  These days she was practically an olympic athlete at burying any emotions that weren’t helpful in getting her the Grade One promotion.

“You are prepared,” He tells her, not a bone in his body believing otherwise.  “But don’t push people away.  Especially not ones trying to be your ally, (y/n)” 

At the drop of a pin her expression was stoic again as she shook her head nonchalantly.

“Thanks for the advice, but truthfully, I don’t need an ally,” She tells him confidently.  “I only need a mentor” 

When she leaves his office, Nanami sighs in defeat.  He waits a few extra minutes before getting started on his reports for the day, too sidetracked wondering just how involved he was going to have to get himself to make his juniors get along better. ___

The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons was as gruesome and traumatic as it was expected to be.  As ready as (y/n) was in her station in Shinjuku, she couldn’t help the spike in her heart rate as the reality of the situation really set in.

For once, her carefully crafted expression began to tear away.  And even Ino could see the anxiety behind her eyes.  He’d known that there was a history between Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, but he wasn’t sure how close (y/n) might have been to all of it, or how involved with Geto she might have been seeing as he’d been her brother’s closest friend.

He could see the way she tightened her grip on the glowing blue double sided axe that had been one of her favorite weapons to conjure up with her cursed energy, and he knew that if she was on edge, then tonight really would be more of a challenge than they were used to.  Because he’d never seen such behavior from her before.

Ino considered saying something to her, something encouraging, like Nanami would say, but he struggled to find the right words, and before he could muster up the courage to wing it, Satoru was teleporting before the two of them, and Ino wouldn’t dare speak over the strongest sorcerer.  Not when he was her brother.

(y/n) doesn’t look relieved by his sudden presence, even when he grins and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“About time for a fight we can have side by side, heh?” He asks, looking all too eager despite what’s bound to come.

Ino watches as her grip flexes and relaxes, before she lowers her weapon to her side, and then it disappears completely.  She tilts her chin up at her brother, her stare cold the longer she holds it.

Seeing them so close to one another, Ino realizes the Gojo siblings really don’t resemble one another.  (y/n’s) significantly shorter than him, and most of her features don’t mirror her brother’s.  The lack of stark white hair being the most noticeable difference between them.  He realizes that if they weren’t known by their status, then standing side by side people wouldn’t even assume they were related.

“I hope you’ve prepared yourself, Satoru,” She tells him, and she’s not necessarily loud, but even from a few feet away, Ino can hear the sharpness in her tone.

Even with that cold demeanor, there’s an underlying guilt in her words.  He could almost mistake it for sadness.

“Because I have” She adds, quieter this time.  The implication in her words is too heavy to be spoken any louder than a whisper.  She keeps her stare on the white bandages, knowing that Satoru could see and feel every intent behind her eyes.

He doesn’t respond.  Simply nods his head and warps away again.

It takes her a few moments to recollect herself before she’s conjuring up her axe again, her cursed energy buzzing in the air like static electricity as the weapon is created in her hands seemingly out of nothing.

To Ino’s surprise, she speaks to him first.

“If he doesn’t kill him, I might have to,” She says, not looking at him at first.  Her eyes focused on her weapon.  Then, she lifts her head and turns to meet his eyes.

The way he’s staring at her now makes her blood run cold, and she has to fight the way a chill tries to shiver down her spine.  His stare is wide eyed, and she can’t tell if he’s alarmed by her words or if it was pure concern written all over his face, but it was out of character for him to look anything besides excited, or hopeful.  How he looks at her now is the way a child looks at roadkill on the side of the road.  She doesn’t like it one bit.

“I don’t know if he’ll show here, or in Kyoto,” She continued despite the growing lump in her throat.  “But this… this has to end.  Tonight” 

She means every word, there’s no doubt in Ino’s mind that she intends to follow through on this promise.  So there’s nothing for him to do except nod in understanding.

“I trust your judgment,” He says, and the way her eyes widen slightly doesn’t go unnoticed by him.  “I’ll help you” 

Not knowing what to say, (y/n) shuts her mouth and gives him a small nod of acknowledgement.  Her instincts nagged at her to keep him far, far away from Geto Suguru.  He wasn’t your average curse user, he was cunning, and it wouldn’t surprise her if he didn’t already have ulterior motives planned for tonight.  Deep down, she had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to raise a hand to her brother, but no one else was safe.

Satoru’s infinity always had a special layer that protected him from his one and only.  It didn’t extend to protect anyone else but him.  Hence her haste in putting an end to this cult of his.

With oncoming curses running rampant in the streets of Tokyo, there was no time to stand around and explain herself to Ino any more than she already had.  Even if she wanted to grab him by the elbow and make sure he stayed out of her way, he was already taking off after the first curse headed their way.

(y/n) had fought side by side with Ino for months now, and while she’d never admit it out loud, they did compliment each other well on assignments.  It was like all the time they spent training and taking on missions together subconsciously taught them to work in perfect synchronicity with one another.

If Ino faked left, she was following without second thought to throw off the alleged Grade Two, the axe made of her cursed energy lodging into the side of it’s large jugular with one heavy swing.  Spurts of purple liquid oozed out, staining both her weapon and her uniform, but the fresh blood was no bother to her as she used her momentum to swing downwards, dragging her axe along with her until the gash under it’s throat was lethal.  Just as she landed on the ground again, the beast crumpled to it’s death before dusting away as though it never existed.

No words needed to be exchanged as they took on the next curse, and the next, and the next.  Neither of them had ever dealt with an army of curses, and the more they exorcized the more difficult it was to keep their energy up, but neither would dare show it.

“Why did Nanami have to go to Kyoto!?” Ino groaned as he sent his fist through the face of a weaker curse, killing it on the spot.  

(y/n) scowled at the stains on her prized cursed weapon, flicking the head of the axe towards the ground to rid the majority of the blood.

“I wanted him to see that!” Ino continued to complain as he jogged to catch up with her, the pair eyeing the remaining curses on the street.

“Exorcize this huge one and I’ll vouch to him for you” (y/n) calls out, and Ino’s face splits into a beam as they both break into a sprint towards the eight legged curse trying to climb up a building.

“You’d do that?” He asks excitedly.  

She can’t help but roll her eyes, but a slight smile begins to play on her lips at the prospect of getting one step closer to the curse users allied with Geto.  Once they cleared enough of these curses, that is.  Her and Ino were more than capable of exorcizing a few measly curses, that much she was confident of.

With Ino’s mask over his face and (y/n’s) axe morphing into a kusarigama, they were on the curse in seconds.  She swung the chain wide, latching the blade into the nape of it’s neck and effectively having herself pulled off the ground as soon as it tried to scurry away.

She’s laughing as she swings through the air, her tight grip on the handle of her weapon the only thing keeping her from falling the twenty feet the curse had already pulled her.  Ino could almost laugh as well at the pure joy she clearly felt when it came to exorcizing curses.  For a moment, she almost reminded him of Satoru.  The crazed look in her eye, the uncharacteristic grin that nearly split her face in half, it was almost startling to see her so… feral.

But he can’t deny it excited him.  Her confidence in the field always boosted his own ego.  With their shared conviction, the massive arachnid-like curse was taken down and exorcized in near record time.

Heaving for breath and still grinning like a maniac, (y/n) was taking off again as soon as they hit the ground.  It took Ino a moment to catch up, trying to calculate which threat she was headed towards next.

“There’s a couple just a block ahead,” She called back to him just as he was gaining on her.  He pulls his mask up to uncover his face.  “We should split up to take them both, and then we go after him” 

Ino follows the direction of her finger as she points up to a curse user currently eyeing the fight happening between Satoru and Miguel.  He’s distanced enough that he’s almost hidden from the two, but it’s easy to tell that his prying eyes are focused on the hopes that Satoru would lose.

He’s a peculiar looking man, with long blonde hair and no shirt to show off the heart shaped pasties he had glued to his chest.  Ino couldn’t hide his peculiar expression as he eyed him from a distance.

Before he could comment on the odd appearance, a woman appeared beside him.  Ino’s quick to grab (y/n’s) attention again, but she’s already noticed the second curse user’s arrival.  Her jaw clenches.

“We need to hurry through these curses,” She warns.  “Who knows how long it takes until-” 

She’s interrupted mid thought, the sound of a flying object whizzing through the air right between the two.  The pair skid to a stop, watching with wide eyes as a swordstaff pierces into a park bench just to their left, after barely missing the both of them.

(y/n) clicks her tongue in annoyance, but doesn’t hesitate to grab the weapon by it’s hilt and pull it clean out of the metal bench effortlessly, eyes scanning the direction it had come from to launch it back.

“(y/n), the curses-” 

“You go after them,” She cuts Ino off before he could convince her to move forward with their original plan.  “I’ll be right behind you” 

He hesitates in place, hands twitching at his sides with uncertainty.  It aggravates her, the way he lingers, clearly worried.

“I don’t need your backup, Takuma,” She snaps at him.  “Now go!” 

He lingers for half a second longer, but from the sharp glare she sends him, he knows he’ll cause more harm than good if he sticks around.  So he gives her a nod of approval before he’s taking off again, his mask going back over his face before he reaches the curse.

Takuma Ino prided himself on his ability to trust his instincts.  Especially when it came to assignments.  Making snap decisions in less than a second could be the difference between life and death, and so far, he’d gambled correctly.  So he should have known that it wasn’t right to leave (y/n) to hunt down a curse user on her own.  He should have listened to the pestering voice in the back of his head and stood his ground, even if it would irritate her and go against her wishes, he should’ve trusted his own morality more.

After exorcizing both curses with only a little assistance from his Auspicious Beasts, he never would have imagined crossing paths with (y/n) again when she’s wriggling around on the ground surrounded by a pool of her own blood.  He doesn’t think he’s ever run faster in his life than he did in that moment.

The blade of a swordstaff is lodged between her shoulder blade and collarbone, so deep it went clean through, and at first glance he’s certain it’s pinning her to the concrete.  The wooden pole of the weapon was snapped and laying beside her in the blood, splintered on one end where she’d clearly broken it off.

“Holy shit,” He’s gasping as he falls to his knees, not caring about the blood staining the front of his pants as he worriedly assesses the situation.  “What happened? Did they get away? Did you kill them?” 

She groans in response, eyes fluttering behind closed eyelids as she tries not to think about the white hot pain coursing through her body.

“I roughed ‘er up,” her voice is strained as she tries to explain herself.  Ino almost tells her to forget it, but his curiosity got the better of him in the hopes that whoever did this was taken care of  “But Mei Mei got her” 

“And left you!?” 

He doesn’t mean to shout, but knowing she was left here to struggle and suffer through her injury makes his blood boil.  Had he been there, he wouldn’t have left her side, not once.  Fight as she might against it, they were partners, and that’s just what they would do.

“It’s fine,” She grits the words out through her teeth, not wanting to dwell on the unnecessary details right now.  “Takuma, I need you to pull this blade out” 

“What? You know I can’t, the bleeding-” 

“I can’t try and activate the Reverse Cursed Technique if it’s still in me,” She snaps at him, but her tone isn’t harsh.  It’s worse.  It’s desperate.  

She opens her eyes then, despite them being full of tears she looks up at him with nothing short of pleading written across her face.

“I can’t take it out myself,” She gasps through a strained cough, a thin trail of blood dripping from the corner of her mouth.  Ino watches in horror as it glides down to her jaw.  “You have to” 

“I won’t,” He’s the one to snap back at her now, ignoring the look in her eyes as he tries to assess just how trapped she is against the ground.  If he could at least get her off the street, he could get her back to Shoko, and she could perform her Reverse Cursed Technique.  “You haven’t even mastered it, there’s no telling if you’d be successful or not” He reminds her, making her grimace back at him.

“I would” She mutters back defiantly.

Ino doesn’t say anything as he carefully shuffles around her wounded shoulder, prodding at the blade to test how anchored it is to the ground.  She hisses in pain, her eyes squeezing shut again as she tries to clench her jaw to bear it.  She won’t tell him it hurts, and he doesn’t expect her to, but it’s too tall of a task to try and hide it.

“Take a deep breath,” He instructs, wrapping his hand around the broken hilt still attached to the blade.  “I’m gonna pull it out of the ground-” 

“No, take it out out” She barks back at him.

“If I do that you’ll bleed to death, you’re not thinking straight,” He grumbles.  “I can’t get you to Shoko if you’re impaled to the ground-” 

“You’re not taking me to Shoko!” She shrieks now, desperate to have him listen to her.  “I’m staying here” 

“You’ll die” 

His voice is eerily steady, but he knows if he raises it back at her she’ll only retaliate, and if she pushed him away he doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for whatever fate held in store for her.

(y/n’s) silent for a moment, teary, angry eyes locked on his as she weakly shuffled her legs about, as if there was any possibility of kicking herself away from him.  She’s a goner, and somewhere underneath the complicated layers of her carefully constructed personality, she knows that.

He holds her stare, hoping that his fear is written all over him, and he seems at least somewhat calm and collected in this moment of pure panic.  She neither protests nor approves of what he does next, but he knows she won’t.

So he takes matters into his own hands. ___

Jujutsu Tech won’t ever look the way it did when she was attending it as a student.  It will never look the way it did before Christmas Eve of 2017.

Then again, after that day just under a month ago, things will never be the same, either.  So maybe it’s fitting that it doesn’t look the same.

It’s too cold to stand around outside, but she can’t help but sneak out of the infirmary while Shoko’s distracted by a pack of cigarettes.  Weeks of being holed up in a stuffy room underneath the too-bright UV lights that flickered every twenty-six seconds were starting to drive her crazy.  Shoko didn’t want her pushing herself too much while her stitches were still healing what her Reverse Cursed Technique couldn’t- she’d claimed (y/n) was lucky to keep her arm- but as soon as she saw an opening to get herself out of the infirmary for the day, (y/n) took it.

At least she wasn’t still stuck in the scratchy paper they called a hospital gown.  But the pants and tank top from her uniform did little to keep her warm.  With all the bandages wrapped around her left shoulder and a part of her bicep, she couldn’t comfortably add any more layers.  But she’d happily choose goosebumps and shivers over sitting in that room for another minute.

Her own breath puffed out in front of her as she stared out at the destruction caused to the once beautiful grounds of Jujutsu Tech.  A small price to pay to finally have Geto Suguru dead, she supposed.

The thought was bitter enough to make her gnaw on the inside of her cheek.  In all the years since he’d defected, she’d wanted her brother to step up and own his title as the strongest and put an end to the terror his once closest friend had caused.  Never did she think about how things would feel once it was over with.

Hazy memories of being reluctantly babysat by the two were now tainted with an uncomfortable aura.  She hoped they didn’t cross her mind too often.

“There you are,” 

She doesn’t flinch when a quiet voice calls to her, despite not calling her by name, she knows Ino could only be addressing her as he steps out of the building and joins her at the top of the steps. 

“Shoko’s looking for you,” He tells her.  “She’s pissed, by the way” 

(y/n) doesn’t say anything in response.  She doesn't even give him a hum.  After passing out from the pain of her injuries, she couldn’t remember what happened, but she knew enough to know she hadn’t forgiven him.

Ino had tried to stop by her room in the infirmary to visit and see how her recovery was going.  The first time he came by was too early, and she hadn’t woken up yet.  The second time was a few days later, and she’d been awake enough to tell him she didn’t want to see him.  The third time he tried to come by, Shoko asked him not to go in and bother her.

He sighs now, sticking his cold hands in his pockets as a chilly breeze passes through.

“You can be be mad if you want, but you should know I’m not going to apologize for saving your life”

His words are sudden, and so blunt she could almost laugh, if she wasn’t holding onto such a large grudge.

“Saving my life,” She repeats his words with a scoff.  “Is that what you think you did?” 

Ino furrows his brows at her, but she doesn’t even spare him a glance.  He presses his fingernails into his palms in his pockets, trying to contain his aggravation.  It wasn’t right to let her get under his skin when she was still healing.  Physically and mentally.

“Seems like it to me,” He replies, eyeing her up and down.  She’s trembling in the cold, likely because there wasn’t a single layer protecting her arms from the January weather.  That paired with the bandages and her unusually messy hair, she almost looked pitiful.  “Since you’re standing here, alive and all” 

She turns to him then, and he’s expecting that sharp glare of disapproval, but he’s met with the same blank expression she’d worn all day.  Her eyes flicker over his determined features before she speaks again.

“I told you what I had to do.  And you said you trusted my judgment,” She reminds him, her voice quiet but not quite a whisper.  “And then you completely disregarded everything I said” 

“You might not know this, but I don’t exactly report to you,” Ino says with a humorless chuckle.  “What I did had nothing to do with keeping you from your backup plan.  And even so, Gojo seemed to manage just fine without you,” 

That had her eyebrow twitching, the first miniscule sign that he was getting under her skin.  He clenched his jaw before continuing.

“Maybe if for once you’d accept a little help we could’ve figured out-” 

“Don’t ever compare me to my brother again,” She cuts him off, louder this time, her voice strained with the rage hidden beneath her cold exterior.  “And don’t use me for your self righteous bullshit.  I don’t need to be paired up with a buddy to complete assignments.  I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now” 

His shoulders shake when he scoffs back at her, shaking his head and turning to leave.

“I’m still not apologizing,” He says as he walks away from her.  He doesn’t turn back, but he doesn’t have to in order to know her eyes are staring daggers at the back of his head.  “But I’m not putting up with your bullshit anymore.  If you want to work alone and die alone, so be it” 

He’s back inside before she can even properly react to his statement.  In all of her time knowing him, even after she’d shot down his advances at being friends months ago, she’d never seen him give the cold shoulder.

With a huff, she lowers herself to sit at the top step, wincing only slightly as she struggles to only use her right side for balance.  Yet worse than the mild pain throbbing from her shoulder and down her bicep, her chest ached.

In that hollow, dull pain that doesn’t go away even while she’s telling herself it was ridiculous to feel that way.  The more Takuma Ino removed himself from her life, the less of a workload was left on her shoulders.  After months of working to shut him out and push him away, it seemed he was finally taking the damn hint.

With the hand that wasn’t sore enough to raise to her head, she pushed the greasy tangled locks of hair back from her face and pressed her forehead into her palm, shutting her eyes as she sighed through that hollow feeling.

She’d finally succeeded in getting him to leave her alone, and she felt terrible about it.

So when Shoko finally found her and practically dragged her freezing body back to the infirmary, she let her.  She didn’t fight or protest once.  It was actually alarming to Shoko to have her comply and follow her wordlessly through the corridors. ___

It wasn’t long after being back on the field that (y/n) was healthy and back to her old self again.  Physically, anyways.  The scar  on either side of her shoulder would stay with her for the rest of her life.  And for those who really knew her, knew that things had taken a turn for the worse.

Nanami watched as day in and day out she stuck to a rigid routine.  Train, exorcize, report, train, and then home.  He’d tried to reach out, tried his damn best to lessen her workload or get her to see that this schedule of hers wasn’t doing her any favors.  But every attempt to help her was met with an excuse or a glare for trying.

He thought he was doing her a favor by talking to Satoru.

She’s on her way to the train when her phone buzzes in her pocket, and if it had been anyone else’s name on the screen, (y/n) would have ignored it.  But ignoring Satoru came with a consequence she didn’t have the time for.

“What is it?” 

“That’s no way to greet your big bro!” Satoru’s far too cheery for how gloomy of a day it was outside.  She sighed, tucking her phone between her cheek and her good shoulder as she neared the station.  “I was just checkin’ in.  You haven’t come by in a while” 

“Been busy.  Besides, I don’t like your place” 

“What’s not to like?” 

“Your furniture is obnoxious and it’s too white.  It’s weird” She lets out a short chuckle at the way he gasps dramatically.

“Whatever.  In all seriousness, you’ve been working a lot more.  Just want to make sure you’re… taking it easy” 

“Taking it easy?” 

“Yeah, y’know.  After Chirtmas Eve I just want to make sure you’re-” 

“I’m fine, Satoru.  Is that the only reason you called? To make sure I’m not pushing myself too hard?” 

“Woah, (y/n/n), I wasn’t trying to-” 

“Forget it, ‘toru.  What do you know about working for anything, anyways?” She huffs in annoyance.  Satoru’s silent on the other end for a minute, and she instantly regrets biting at him like that.  “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, okay? I’m just…” 

“You’re overworking yourself,” Satoru says, his voice dropping it’s usual happy-go-lucky tone that gets on her nerves so much.  “I understand, (y/n/n).  I’ll just have to tell Nanami that a team outing is due!” 

At that her eyes widen, and she’s quick to snatch her phone in her hand again, her gip tight as she practically snarls into the speaker.

“Absolutely not, Satoru, that’s the last thing-” 

“I’m texting him right now” 

“Don’t you dare-!” 

“Aaaand done!” He cheers.  “When was the last time you had a proper break, hm?” 

“Satoru I swear-” 

“I can tell from how angry you are.  Like a feral cat, yeesh,” She can tell he’s rolling his eyes as he speaks, and she hates that it makes her roll hers, too.  “Don’t worry, this is just what you need!” 

“How would you know?” She snaps, but there’s no bite to her bark and he knows it.  

“You’ll have fun.  Make Nanami and that Auspicious Beasts kid buy your drinks” 

“Takuma,” She corrects him bitterly, glaring off at an innocent map of the train schedules.  “And neither one of them are exactly happy with me right now.  Not that you’d know that! You just like to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong-!” 

The bystanders patiently awaiting for their train awkwardly began to shuffle away from the girl in the strange black getup yelling into her phone without a care in the world, as though she’d forgotten she was even in public.  She hadn’t, and she was sure that if Satoru was here, they would’ve understood her aggravation.

“Who could possibly not be happy with you?” Satoru remarks with a sharp cackle of a laugh.  She grimaced, but found some relief in seeing her train finally arrive at the station.  “He’s only one person, how’d you manage to not get along with him?” He asks, like the nosy gossip he was.  She could hear the sound of plastic crinkling and would bet money he was eating sweets as he indulged in the topic.  “Seemed like a pretty chill dude to me” 

“He is he’s just-” She huffs, not knowing the right thing to say as she stepped onto the train and found a decent spot to sit, away from most other people so she could continue her phone call as privately as possible.  “He’s nosy.  Like you” 

“I’m nosy because I care? I’ll take it,” Satoru replies, sounding like there was clearly a piece of taffy in his mouth.  “That means you don’t like him?” 

“I didn’t say that,” (y/n) sighs, leaning her head against the window, watching the crowds of non-sorcerers go about their lives.  “He’s just… he’s too much, that’s really it” She shrugs at the lame answer.

Satoru thinks it’s lame too, and she can tell by the way he scoffs.

“What does that even mean? He tries to take over assignments or somethin’?” 

“No… no he’s fair.  The workload is always equal…” She explains, before her brows furrowed together.  “If anything I’m the one that takes over too much” 

“So you’re the problem? Shocker” 

“Fuck off” 

“Then what’s such a bother about him?” Satoru ignores her cruelty with ease.  He’d been doing it for years.  “Or is this that thing where the girl hates the guy but for no good reason, and she really just has a crush on him-?” 

“It’s most definitely not that,” (y/n) cuts him off, her voice so low she nearly growls at him.  “And that’s not even a real thing” 

“Well, sure it is,” He replied with a giggle.  “There’s more steps to it in the real world.  Usually she resents him for some silly reason, realizes he’s actually a pretty decent guy but can’t admit it once she’s stuck to her stand-offish attitude, then starts to fall for him more and more once she’s decided she can’t have him,” Satoru explained everything he’d learned from romantic comedies like he’d taken a class on crush behavior.  “He is pretty cute.  You sure you don’t like him-?”

“Can you act your age for once?” 

“That was textbook deflection-” 

“I’m not deflecting, I’m just not in the mood to explain the annoyance I have for interpersonal work relationships.  Why can’t everyone be like Nanami? We clock in, we beat up some curses, and we clock out.  Is that so hard?” 

“No,” Satoru replies.  “But it’s boring” 

“That’s how I like it” 

“And that’s why you haven’t made friends at work.  What’re you so worried about anyways? You used to have friends in school” 

“That was school.  This is my life’s work.  I don’t need distractions,” She deadpans.  “You’re distracting enough.  And I can’t get rid of you” 

“Sure can’t!” Satoru cheers.  “But you’re no fun at all.  You really need to loosen up.  Nothin’ wrong with making friends.  Since when did you get all gloomy?” 

(y/n’s) quiet for a moment, noticing a loose string on the side of her uniform pants and letting herself get distracted by it instead.  She pinches the small thread and tugs at it gently, not enough to pluck it out or unravel it, but just enough to pull it taut.

It was a complicated answer that wasn’t going to do her any favors and she knew it.  If she sat here and told Satoru exactly why she had no interest in getting close with her fellow sorcerers, he’d only be hurt.  And then he’d try to fix it and talk her out of it, which he was already unknowingly doing.

It was just better this way.  It had to be, because it was the only way she knew how.

“Don’t you ever think it’s… it’s harder to get closer to people in this line of work?” She asks, testing the waters just a bit to gauge his reaction.  

Satoru hums, thinking over her question for a solid minute.  A lump forms in her throat that’s difficult to swallow down as she awaits his response.  SHe starts to wonder if she’d let herself be too vulnerable, even if it was her brother.

“Sometimes,” He finally says, his voice quiet, and serious in that way that could be chilling when it comes to Satoru.  “But I think it’d be pitiful not to try, don’t you?” 

She nods, despite him not being able to see her.  He must understand that she was taking his words to heart, because he’s quiet on the line with her as well.

“One night out,” She says after a minute of silence passes.  Satoru laughs through the speaker.  “And if it sucks, I’m making you pick me up, alright?” “It won’t suck,” He assures her.  “And deal”

“Megumi’s ears turn pink when he lies.”

“They do not!” Megumi’s eyes shot up from the book he had been reading, wide and shocked that you would say such a thing. But — sure enough — within seconds of saying that his ears had started to change to a shade of pinks

As if sensing it, his dropped his book and quickly covered his ears. You had started to laugh alongside your two other friends, finding the display to be comical and cute at the same time.

“No way!” Yuji laughed, Nobara had fallen into his side from laughing at the fact that brooding, stoic Megumi couldn’t lie without a dead giveaway. “Yes way! It’s been like that since we were kids!” You exclaimed proudly, ignoring the way Megumi grumbled as you further damned him.

“I always forget the two of you go WAY back.” Nobara finally caught her breath, wiping the tears from her eyes as she straightened again. “Yep, since Gojo brought him in.” You slung your arm around Megumi’s shoulder just for him to push it off.

“Aw ease up, Meg! You can tell them an embarrassing secret about me if you wanna make things even.” You pouted, bringing your drink to your lips as his gaze met yours.

“Y/N used to sleep in my bed until we entered middle school.”

You choked on the fizzy drink you had been sipping, half of it going back into the cup as you started to cough. “AYE!” Yuji seemed more appalled than Nobara, the short haired girl just muffling her laughter behind her hand.

You recovered quickly, setting your drink down just to smile sweetly. “I only stopped because Megumi got embarrassed about waking up with a morning hard-on everyday.” Forget his ears turning pink, Megumi’s entire face was turning bright red.

“I was going through puberty!” He practically hissed at you, ignoring the fact that Nobara and Yuji were practically crying at this point as the two of you argued like an old married couple.

An unfinished thought but it makes me giggle regardless :)

Banner from @/cafekitsune

All that I can say......

idiots in love. | g. satoru

with a solemn expression and a heavy heart, you stand against the students of tokyo and kyoto jujutsu high.

“today, we mourn for the absence of gojo satoru.”

the tokyo jujutsu high students bow their heads as they pray for their beloved teacher. the kyoto students are confused.

mourn? absence?

“gojo satoru is a friend, teacher, and a colleague. but was he great being the three of them? absolutely not.”

“hey!”

you look at the ceiling, trying to stop your tears from falling. “sometimes, i can hear his voice and his presence. i wish he’s having a great time wherever he is.”

todo confusingly look at you. why are you crying? gojo-sensei is very much alive, though? he can see him waving his hands behind you.

“is it always like this?”

“just follow what [name]-sensei is saying. if gojo is dead, then he’s dead,” maki answers.

the kyoto students also bow their heads and clasp their hands as if they are praying.

you give a stern look to the students before you. “curses are everywhere around us. if you see someone impersonating him, exorcise it at all cost. okay?”

they nod.

the menace of society dumbly stare at you all accepting his fake death. he starts whining and tugging your arm.

“you’re so mean! i’m very much alive right now!” he pouts.

you glare. “because i told you that you’re dead to me the moment you eat my food. and what did you do? you ate my favorite food!”

he shrugs as if it wasn’t a big deal. as if your piercing glare isn’t penetrating through his soul. “well, if you marked your name on the food, i wouldn’t be eating them.”

“yeah? well, i put a stamp of my name on the plastic!”

“still not enough.”

the waiting listeners watch you bicker like an old married couple. you, pointing at satoru with the most heated eyes they have ever seen. him, being an idiot and trying to defend himself (even if he was the one who ate your favorite food) that he didn’t eat it.

“was it always like this?”

“salmon.” inumaki nods.

the next day, they will see you two clinging into each other as if you two couldn’t be worlds apart. what happened yesterday had been forgotten. with you smiling like the sunshine you are and him being the smitten man he is.

they also know that gojo buys you a dozen of your favorite food with your favorite dessert and your favorite cuddles.

home home where i wanted to go

seat taker

s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?

w.c. 10.6k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)

a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out

"go sit next to him then."

you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.

"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."

she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.

"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."

you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."

"you're insane."

"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."

"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."

you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.

"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."

"huh. what was that last part?"

your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...

with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.

its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.

poker face, poker face, poker face.

it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.

there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.

"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.

"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"

you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.

"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.

a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."

"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.

you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.

"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.

even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."

"you can ask him for that too~"

"shut up, you menace."

"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."

"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"

"bye!"

and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.

suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.

and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.

you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.

he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.

god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–

"you have pretty handwriting."

"I–what?"

you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.

and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.

"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."

he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."

you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.

"be my guest." you say without hesitance

he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.

he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.

"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips

your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"

he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.

"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"

the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.

"y-yeah."

"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."

a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.

"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"

he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.

"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"

you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.

"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response

at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.

"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.

"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."

"what?"

you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."

you hear a puff of a laugh from geto

"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."

you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"

every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.

geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."

you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.

amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"

you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."

geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"

you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."

"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"

you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.

geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"

you nod, curious at what he was going to do.

he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.

when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.

"that's where the frat house is."

you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"

geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."

you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"

"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.

you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.

"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."

just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.

although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.

you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.

your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.

"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.

the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.

"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.

she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"

she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.

you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.

it's geto.

his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.

the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.

you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.

you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.

you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.

you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.

"is it as cool as people say?"

you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.

it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.

you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.

"yeah!" you nod

geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you

"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.

"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him

"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you

"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.

"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"

you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.

"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.

geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'

you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.

it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.

he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.

"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.

geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.

you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.

"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.

"you want something?" geto asks you back

"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him

geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"

you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.

he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."

"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink

you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.

"you didn't want a drink?"

geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."

"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.

"what kinda car do you have?"

"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble

"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.

"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.

"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."

"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.

"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out

he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"

"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."

geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"

although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."

"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you

"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.

"you don't know my name, rig–"

"y/n."

you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.

"what?"

"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you

"oh." you sink back into yourself

"do you know mine?"

you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."

"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"

"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"

the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.

geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.

"what's wrong?" he asks quickly

"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."

you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.

"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.

you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"

"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."

you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."

"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."

"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it

"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.

when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.

an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.

"there you go."

he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.

"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.

when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.

"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.

"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back

"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"

you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.

geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.

you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.

after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.

"this is your place right?"

another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.

"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.

when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.

"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him

"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"

"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.

"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"

"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.

you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.

you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.

your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.

there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.

by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.

"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."

It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.

you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.

you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.

and gojo's voice, "idiot."

you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up

suguru

hey

y/n

hi

suguru

you wanna take satoru's seat next class?

y/n

he wants to flirt with mika again?

suguru

not rlly lol.

y/n

?????

suguru

I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)

y/n

lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of

suguru

haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat

y/n

okay?

when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.

there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.

three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.

gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.

you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.

"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.

"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.

"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."

ah. that's why it seemed so out of character

"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."

suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."

"really? about?"

for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."

"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."

"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"

you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"

he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."

"what?"

suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."

"for who?"

"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."

he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.

you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"

"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."

"Zenin?!"

"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.

you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."

"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."

"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.

"no?"

"no."

and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.

when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey hey! I have a question!"

you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.

"what's up?"

"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."

"the fembot costume?!"

you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.

"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"

"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you

"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"

"well I've never done that." you grumble

"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."

"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"

it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.

you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.

on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.

your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.

it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.

however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–

he just made eye contact with you.

you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.

fuck you satoru gojo.

suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.

"you bought another costume?"

"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."

"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.

you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri

"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending

"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.

"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.

"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans

his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.

you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.

you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"

"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"

his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.

"are you kidding me? you're high?"

"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.

you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.

"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."

"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."

"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.

"yes."

"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."

the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."

"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer

irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.

you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car

after their date.

which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.

the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.

you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.

it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.

"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."

it's suguru.

there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.

he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.

this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.

suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.

suguru

are you still here?

I'm sobered up now.

he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.

"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.

nervous, you mutter, "what."

suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.

"why didn't you answer me?"

"do you really not know the answer?"

"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.

"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.

you're confused, "but–"

"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.

"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.

the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.

"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."

"since when?" you peep

"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession

"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess

suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"

"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.

"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor

"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."

"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."

you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."

suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."

"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"

"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.

"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.

suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"

"no, I like it here too."

theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.

"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.

he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.

"suguru."

he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.

he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.

he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.

a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.

"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses

suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."

your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–

"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.

you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."

he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"

"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.

suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.

he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"

you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.

"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."

suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.

"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"

you give him the same answer again.

"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."

the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.

you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.

"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck

"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."

"yeah?"

"mhm"

"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"

"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.

"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles

you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.

he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.

"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way

it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."

"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"

"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.

"move your panties to the side."

when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.

"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"

"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.

he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.

"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly

your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.

"are you close angel?"

concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.

"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.

you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."

he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"

the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."

it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."

like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"

you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.

he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"

you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance

suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.

" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion

"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper

"no." you rake your hands down his arms

suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."

the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.

"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.

every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.

"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."

it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.

"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."

"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"

suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"

a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.

"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.

he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.

at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.

suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."

the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."

"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders

"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"

"yeah."

"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.

suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.

"we can do that later right?"

"right."

Tell the moths in my tummy to relocate, please

Synopsis: In which 40° weather grants you insight into Satoru’s powers Word Count: 2.0k

Story Content: Female reader, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Seemingly unrequited pining, Idiots in love but they don’t even know it yet, Slow-burn (doesn’t get anywhere), Crackfic, We learn the many ways in which Satoru can use his technique, Reader POV!

A/N: this is a celcius only household (kidding. but not really.) This has been in my drafts for a reaaaally long time im just glad its out honestly

GOJO SATORU is a frigid blast of cold air during a warm summer day. 

It’s surprising, considering his typical characterisation. People, yourself included, likened him to the sun. Bright and blinding. That’s how the pillar of the Jujutsu world should be, they’d say. He’s the epitome of sorcery. The honored one, they’d praise. 

Just to be clear, you thought of him as the sun for entirely different reasons. Reasons that you weren’t about to go into too detail about. But just as a tiny, small little hint: It had to do with his body temperature. And you were currently being quickly betrayed by what you once thought was fact.

“Am I a portable air-con?”

“Yeah,” you spit at him. Half in betrayal and half in fascination, you huff, gripping his elbows to keep him still as you tuck your body against him, forcing his technique over you with your own. 

The chill settles into your bones and makes you sigh sweetly. It almost makes you forget about how the sun was shining a little too brightly into your eyes. 

In the back of your mind, you can’t help but envy him and his thousand dollar shades. Did he bring a spare? Could you have them? 

Keep reading

FACE MASSAGE

You give your boyfriend a nice, relaxing face massage when Sukuna, being bored out of his mind, takes over Yuuji’s body.

Featuring: gn. reader x SUKUNA RYOMEN, ft. Yuuji Itadori Contents & warnings: FLUFF, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna

a/n: alrighty, this one I wrote randomly thinking of how the lines actually are quite a good guide for a face massage (also, if you never had face or a scalp massage, you're missing out!). i usually write Sukuna as his separate person, but here he's in a vessel. it's nothing but purely fluffed up piece of late-night babbling, enjoy <3

It was already late, the clock showed almost 11PM, but you were not asleep. Yuuji had just gotten home, taken a shower, and breathed out loudly, whining to heavens about how he had worked his butt off during the training session with Gojo. Your boyfriend came back all tired, and the hot shower didn't do much to soothe his strained muscles.

"I'm soooo tired," he whined again, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable pout his lips had formed as he walked into the room you shared with him.

"'My poor thing," you cooed, kissing his forehead as he sat down next to you. "How about I give you a little face massage?"

"Yes, please," Itadori nodded vigorously and you giggled as you instructed him how to position himself and when you had his head comfortably over your lap, you warmed up a nice portion of face cream in your palms.

"Relax for me, baby," you told him, and he closed his eyes the moment your fingers made contact with his skin.

Yuuji loved the magic your hands performed upon his aching muscles, and he found head and face massages particularly relaxing, so it wasn't surprising when he began to doze off in a matter of moments. With him half-asleep, you could take your time to admire the boy who had shamelessly stolen your heart with just one of his wide and extremely kind smiles, and as you glided your fingers smoothly across his forehead, down his temples, cheekbones, and jaw, you fell in love all over again. At first you were extremely gentle, stroking along his features, warming the skin as you went, before applying more pressure to the knots under his skin.

You rubbed small circles across his forehead, paying a little more attention to the space between his eyebrows and near his temples before lowering your hands to work the lotion into the large muscles over his cheeks. Using your thumbs, you forced the tension away with enough pressure to make Yuuji purr softly. Then something unexpected happened. Black, tattoo-like lines appeared under your fingers and you slowed your movements, startled by the sight.

You knew that there is a curse living rent-free in your boyfriend, and you've seen Sukuna before, but he had never come out like that, for no reason, without a fight, without a single trigger, so you had no idea what to expect.

"Continue," he ordered, and you swallowed, pressing your fingertips back to his cheeks. Ironically, the lines that adorned his face made for a perfect guide for the massage, and you unconsciously followed them.

"Is there a reason for your appearance now?" you asked cautiously, keeping your fingernails away from the extra pair of eyes as you brushed over the bones beneath them.

"Nothing in particular," he replied lightly, looking up at you as his expression turned more serious. "Although I don't like you looking at me from above."

"You're literally on my lap."

"That's why I'll allow it, once. As for why," he relaxed his face again as you slid down his cheeks to work the muscle around his mouth and along his jawline. "Can you imagine how bored I am inside this brat?"

"I'm afraid not."

"You can't, that's right." A sigh left Sukuna's mouth. "What a pity, I'm bored out of my mind."

"I see, but please don't tire Yuuji any more, he's already exhausted."

"You should worry about yourself rather than him being tired."

"I probably should, but if you were to decide to kill me now, you wouldn't get to experience the wonders of my scalp massage, so if you're okay with such a loss..."

You were really pushing his buttons here, being way too brave for your own good, but he seemed comfortable with the situation, which gave you hope that you wouldn't be decapitated anytime soon.

"Proceed then, and I'll make my decision afterward."

You finished his facial massage with a few light strokes along his features and wiped your hands with a tissue to remove any excess cream that hadn't absorbed yet, before you sink your hands into his hair. "Could you flip over to your stomach?" Once that was done, and Sukuna turned almost too obediently as you guided his head back to your lap, you used your fingers to brush through his blush-toned hair, pushing it back and purposefully scratching the skin between the strands as you dragged your hands to the nape of his neck. Once again, you used circular motions and quite a bit of pressure to stimulate the circulation and relax the tense muscles. You knew it was pleasurable, you knew how Yuuji's body reacted to your touch and the fact that it was the King of Curses at this moment couldn't change that. The only thing different was the silence, which would normally be filled with constant mewling and whimpering from your boyfriend, but you couldn't expect those from Sukuna. Frankly, you'd be startled if he suddenly started purring.

As you worked your magic, the man remained calm, his cheek pressed against your thigh and his arms behind your back and around your legs, and it didn't really bother you too much. His touch was almost non-existent, he just kept his hands there because they had to go somewhere.

"Do you find this acceptable?" you asked quietly, lowering your fingers to graze the back of his neck. Your thumbs slid down the line of muscles that connected them to his shoulders, and he moved his arms down, giving you more access to that area.

"Acceptable is a good term," he muttered, exhaling deeply as you firmly squeezed the shoulder muscles, working out the tight knots there. Normally, this would turn Itadori into a whining mess, needy of affection and ready for endless cuddles, but for Sukuna, you put more effort into what you were doing. It felt strange. Technically, it was still your boyfriend's body that you had touched many times before, but somehow it felt like you were massaging a foreign man. Even though your fingertips knew the dips and curves of his silhouette, your mind found it hard to process.

Lost in thoughts, you let your hands go lower, onto the shoulder blades and near the spine, following the line down, working your palms into his toned back, only snapping back to reality when one of your hands brushed over the stitches. Oh yes, Yuuji had injured himself the day before and because of Shoko's absence, he had to have the wound stitched up. He shouldn't be training with that at all, but he's so stubborn...

"Sukuna?", you addressed him quietly, trying to sound as respectful and polite as possible.

"What do you want?" he replied, his voice indifferent, but he knew from your tone that you needed something from him.

"There is a wound on Yuuji's back. Could you heal it so that I can massage that area as well?"

“I don’t mind the pain. I don’t feel it,” he informed bluntly.

“But I can’t massage over stitches. I know it’s nothing for you, so pleaseee?”

"You're pushing your luck, you know that, right?" Sukuna laughed. Oh, how sneaky you were, he loved it, and it's only because he really enjoyed the massage that he granted your request. The sewn-up wound healed before your eyes and black stitches fell away. Your whole face lit up as you ran your hand over the spot.

"Thank youu," you smiled, and as if on autopilot, your body bent forward. You planted a soft kiss on the top of his head before you could think twice and only realized what you'd done when it was too late. Oh. "I'm sorry," you muttered quickly.

"You're so fucking clingy," he scoffed. "Humans..."

"Don't be mad, I'm just grateful," you cooed, returning your nails to his scalp to hopefully distract him from wanting to cut you to ribbons, and it seemed to do the trick as he melted over your thigh, relaxing his body once again.

In few minutes the black markings disappeared, your boyfriend was back and you were left confused but relieved.

yeah

megumi fushiguro x f!reader, 5.9k

THEMES: established relationship, time skip au w aged up characters, non-canon compliant bc they deserve happy endings and canon is merely a guideline, implied smut

SUMMARY: you miss your boyfriend. the way to handle it? dissuade him from his stupid game addiction in a thousand silly ways.

A/N: this is very unserious i’m sorry. also this is a repost of another fic i deleted…... yikes !

GAME START

You wouldn’t call yourself a video game hater.

It would be so hypocritical of you, when you’ve played games here and there. When you were a kid, your mom had bought you one of those Nintendo DS consoles, and you’d been just as obsessed with Cooking Mama like every other kid in your neighborhood. Even in recent years, you’d played some popular ones, like Mario Kart, with your friends.

You’re just not in love with it. Not like Itadori, or Inumaki or Fushiguro were.

There were other things you were more interested in, more relaxing things that didn’t involve so much violence at three in the morning. Like watching Netflix. Online shopping. Peaceful, healthy, productive.

But hey, who were you to judge?

Your lives as jujutsu sorcerers were stressful, taking so much of your free time—if your friends felt like killing pixel monsters on their little PC screens until the sun rose was relaxing, they were absolutely valid for it.

You don't think it’s helping Megumi, though.

Megumi needs sleep. Loves it, even. Despite his cold exterior, Megumi’s actually the opposite; he’s cute and cuddly. Like a cute, cuddly bear. And like a bear, he hibernates too. When you guys get rare, well-earned breaks, Megumi often forgoes going out just so he can sleep the time away. He even takes naps in the afternoon after lunch, and you’ve lost count of how many times Kugisaki has attacked him for taking so long to get up in the mornings and making them late to missions.

And yet, he squanders the time he could be sleeping to play video games.

You don't get it. Video games can be super fun, you know from experience, but to lose sleep over it? How relaxing can a game be, when all it does is leave you tired and grumpy in the morning?

Normally, you like to mind your own business when it comes to the things your friends like to do in their personal time, but you find yourself wanting to convince Megumi against his current methods of de-stressing.

But Megumi is a surprisingly complex creature.

(To others, of course. He is simple to you because you’re well-versed in his silly little ways.)

If you want to dissuade Megumi from video games, you have to be smart about it. You have to play it cool, lest Megumi catches on and becomes stubborn about it. You’ll be smooth about this. You’ll be cooler than cool about it. Chill. Yeah.

Yeah.

RESULT:

YOU: 0 VIDEO GAMES: 0

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.

.

ROUND ONE

The first part of your fool-proof plan (the fool being Megumi) was to straight up annoy your target into giving up on his video games.

You cooly stand by the threshold of Megumi’s room. Your hands are in your pocket. You’re freshly showered, which you want to emphasise for reasons. Reasons: you’re fresh, relaxed, ready to engage and be annoying.

Megumi hasn’t even noticed you. He’s got those large headphones like a real gamer, and his fingers are angrily typing over his keyboard.

Perfect, you think. He’s already agitated.

You smile to yourself, covering your mouth lest anyone accuses you of being evil. You straighten up and begin your move.

You clear your throat.

Megumi doesn’t acknowledge you. Hmm.

You clear your throat again, this time louder, and still—Megumi doesn’t even give you a single glance. Wow.

You feel your hackles rise at being ignored. It’s kind of rude of Megumi to not even acknowledge you. Is his video game really that important?

Maybe you should scare him.

You don't even need to tiptoe your way to where he’s sitting at his computer desk. You walk up to him and even stand behind him for a good moment without being noticed. You shake yourself, getting ready to give Megumi a good scare—

Megumi screams.

The sudden scream sends you jumping in the air and toppling onto the floor. With your heart pounding in your chest and your whole body lying on the floor, you see Megumi throw his headphones in rage, cussing, “That fucking bastard—“

Megumi stops mid-sentence. His brows raise, and he tilts his head to the side in question, “Hey. What are you doing down there?”

You feel absolutely pathetic and try not to show it as you push yourself up from the ground. “I’ve been calling your name all this time and you were ignoring me.”

Megumi blinks before averting his eyes in embarrassment, “Oh. I had noise-cancelling headphones on.” He turned to look back at you, his mouth puckered like the little carat sign on the keyboard. He extends a hand to you, ”Sorry.”

You exaggerate your pout, “What are you sorry to me for?”

Megumi pouts too, and you think that it’s so unfair how affected you are about it. Like your entire world just shifted, moving to focus on Megumi’s pout and do everything you can to alleviate what’s causing it. Megumi flutters his lashes, swaying your joined hands together, and in a cute voice that you swear never used to affect you before: “For not noticing you. You should have tapped me on the shoulder or something. If I had known—“

God, you swear it’s because you’re newly dating. It’s the honeymoon period that has you cooing, utterly swayed, “And if you had known, what? Would you have stopped gaming for me?”

Megumi smiles so sweetly, you can already tell the answer was going to be—

“You wouldn’t, huh?” you say, the smile dropping from your face. You drop his hand in faux disappointment and ask, “What’s more important, Fushiguro Megumi? Video games or your girlfriend?”

Megumi complains, “Why would you ask me this?”

You close your eyes and feel the disappointment for real this time. “I can’t believe this,” you whine, “My boyfriend would choose gaming over me. I understand. I see—“

“Babe, stop sulking, you know you’re important to me—”you keep your eyes closed, but you can feel Megumi’s arms loop around your neck, “Don’t be mad—”

Okay, you're not that disappointed, and you’re definitely not mad. But still, you don’t let up until Megumi’s pressed you against his bed and given you a thousand and one kisses. Your plan failed today, but it doesn’t mean you have to lose completely.

To be yourself, means to never give up (or something like that). You’ll try another day.

RESULT:

YOU: 0 VIDEO GAMES: 1

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.

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ROUND TWO

Okay, take two - the first part of your fool-proof plan (the fool being yourself) was to seduce your target into giving up on video games.

You think this plan is better than the OG one. What were you thinking? Megumi wrote the playbook on being stubborn, and for once, you think you can leave being number one to someone else. You have bigger fish to fry, or however the saying goes.

Anyway - so you stand again at the threshold of Megumi’s room. You’re all cool, with your hands in your pockets. You’re freshly showered, which you want to emphasize for new reasons. Reasons being: you’re fresh, relaxed, ready to sex Megumi up.

Like last time, Megumi hasn’t noticed you standing by the door. He’s too busy, once again, being a real gamer, and his fingers, once again are flying angrily over his keyboard.

Perfect, you think. He’s already so heated.

This time, you forgo subtlety. Megumi loves it when you take charge.

You go over and wrap your arms around his tense shoulders, and Megumi ends up jolting so hard in surprise he uppercuts your chin with his hard head.

Once more, you’re on the floor again. This time, clutching your jaw.

“Babe!” Megumi exclaims in worry, throwing his headphones off in a flurry. He crouches down and cradles your jaw in his careful hands, “Are you okay? Why does this keep happening to you? Do you like being on the floor?”

You’re a little teary eyed and trying to hold it back. This isn’t the crying you were imagining when you came to Megumi’s room. You thought it would be a little sexier than this. A little less pathetic. You moan (in pain, you note sadly), “Why are you lecturing me?”

“Because,” Megumi caresses your jaw, “How could you surprise me like that? And now you’re hurt. You know it hurts me when you’re hurt.” Megumi pouts, “My baby. Should I kiss it better?”

You soak the attention up and point at your jaw. You nod, pouting, “Yes. Kiss it here.”

Megumi presses a kiss against your jaw, “Mwah.” When he pulls back, his eyes are crescents, “There. All good now.”

You make a noise and point to another spot, your chin this time, “This part hurts too.”

“I’ll kiss it too,” Megumi says, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss against your chin too. “Mwah. That one should be healed too.”

It’s a little insane, but you literally feel the pain go away with the touch of his lips. Is this the power of love or some shit? You used to be a non-believer, but damn. Maybe that shit truly heals.

It’s kind of addicting. You point to several parts of your face, and Megumi indulges you, pressing kiss after kiss until heat blooms between you two.

Swallowing your own anticipation, you finally point to your lips. “It hurts,” you say, sadly, “Could you kiss it better too?”

“It really hurts?” Megumi says slowly, biting his lip. His eyes focused solely on your mouth. “Or do you just want a kiss?”

“I always want a kiss from you, Megumi,” you bait, though the words are as honest as an admission. Megumi flushes pink at your words, and you feel your want double, triple knowing you’re the cause of it. “But it really does hurt. And I need you to kiss it. To make it all better—”

Megumi kisses you before you can even finish your sentence. You make a pleased noise, as you hook your arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to get him closer. Megumi moans, and you swallow it with a parted mouth. Megumi’s tongue is still shy as it licks into your mouth, meeting your tongue in tentative strokes. It’s cute. Megumi is so cute, it makes you kinda ill with desire.

You hook your leg around his hip and roll your bodies until it’s Megumi on the ground, looking pretty underneath you. You slide your knee in between his legs and feel heat when it presses against his growing bulge, “What about you, babe? Are you hurting anywhere? Is there anywhere I can kiss better?”

Megumi nods.

Because you can’t help it, you tease further, “Could you show me where?”

Megumi juts his bottom lip as he grinds against you, “You always make me say it.”

“I’m not a mind reader,” you say, tracing the swell of his lip. “You need to say what you want, so I know exactly what to do.”

Megumi looks away from you for a moment, as if unable to handle your gaze. His cheeks are a deepening pink, and you decide you love it over the heated flush he had on earlier when he was gaming. When he turns back, he seems to have gathered his courage. His gaze doesn’t waver as he takes your hand and presses it to his stomach, as he carefully slides your hands together underneath the waistband of his pants.

“Here,” Megumi says, voice low in a way that it rarely ever is, “I want you to kiss me here.”

So you do, and then some.

Later, when you’ve both migrated to his bed, sweaty and sated and close to the cliff of sleep, you feel like a winner. Having Megumi makes you a winner all the same, of course, but today, you triumph over your current enemy. Video games.

Your plan is a success. Finally, you can move on to step two, which is to make this into a routine. Sure, it’s going to be tiring, but you think it’s a sacrifice you’ll be very happy to—wait.

You feel Megumi shift carefully from where he was spooning you. Your little backpack, gone. A hand runs through your hair, lips press against your cheek, and then nothing. The heat you were getting accustomed to disappears. The bed shifts—and you realise he’s getting up. Any hope you have that it’s just him getting water or going to the bathroom disappears when you hear the tell-tale sound of a computer booting up.

God, did you not fuck him properly? Should you have gone for Round 2? What kind of stamina does a guy who just got railed within an inch of their life have, for him to not only stay awake after, but also to go back and log on to their computer to game?

You’re missing something here. You’ve seriously misunderstood the hold video games have on your boyfriend. You need to regroup. You need to rethink this.

But first—you must recuperate.

RESULT:

YOU: 0 VIDEO GAMES: 2

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.

.

ROUND THREE

You have recovered. Somewhat. Your ego is down bad, but it’s okay. Your war against video games in general is not over. You just need a better strategy, but before you can formulate that, you must first gather intel.

And who better to gather intel from than another gamer?

You stand at the threshold of a room. Another room. This time, it’s Itadori’s.

(Okay, you thought about asking Inumaki, but god knows, if given the choice between a brand new PS5 or his girlfriend, he would definitely choose the former. You’re not being mean. You’re just telling the truth.)

Anyway, you clear your throat, and as expected from the most angelic member of your friend group, Itadori turns to address you immediately.

“Oh, it’s you,” Itadori calls out from his bed. He’s laying against a pile of pillows as he plays on his nintendo switch. “What’s up?”

You shrug, putting your hands in your pocket. You know, for the spirit of nonchalance. You walk on over and casually sit on his bed. Or at least, you try to. It’s rather difficult considering the insane amount of pillows. You feel like you’re going to topple over and fall on the ground. Which has been happening quite often lately. Too often, if somebody were to ask you.

You lean over to take a peek at what he’s playing, “Nothing. Just wanted to see what my bestie is up to.”

Itadori hums, “I’m just playing Stardew Valley. It’s a farming game.”

You watches as Itadori’s character murders a bunch of bats in what looks like a cave. “Kind of violent,” you comment. “I thought you were farming. Aren’t you supposed to be toiling the land? Sowing some seeds? Harvesting?”

“I did that earlier,” Itadori says, as his character drops a bomb and kills a mummy. His fingers move like a real expert. A real gamer. You suppose there is something amazing about gamers. There’s a sense of professionalism in the way he plays, you can see that. “You can do a lot of things. It’s really involved. You can just do a day and then quit. I like it. You can really just do what you want.”

“Oh!” you say with interest. “So it’s not addicting at all. And it’s calming?” Itadori nods. “Can you play it on the PC? Or do you have to play it on the Switch?”

“You can play it on the PC,” Itadori explains, before taking a moment to pause the game. He turns to you, giving his full attention with a teasing grin. “Is this for Fushiguro?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes. It’s Valentine’s soon. I was going to buy him clothes, but I always get him that.” Shyly, you continue, “It’s our first Valentine’s together… so I wanted to do something different.”

“He usually likes those shooting games more though,” Itadori says. “Why don’t you ask Inumaki-san instead for advice?”

You grumble, “I always ask him for advice. Also, I don’t think those violent games are good for Megumi.”

Itadori gasps, a move that’s teasing too, “Wow… I didn’t think you were the controlling type.”

“I’m not!” you bristle at the accusation, “I am just a very concerned girlfriend.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, dubious, and you feel the teasing hit a surprisingly sensitive spot. You frown, “Am I being controlling? I just want him to stop playing so many video games so he can sleep properly.”

Itadori coos, and in a loud cutesy voice, he says, “Really? Really? Fushiguro is so lucky to have a caring girlfriend—”

“Really?” Another voice joins in the teasing. When you look, you see that it’s the man of the hour.

Itadori laughs when he sees who it is, “Oh? Who’s here? It’s our cutest—”

“Shut up,” Megumi grumbles, walking over to you, “What are you two yapping about now? I can hear your voice all the way from the bathroom.”

“You can hear us from the bathroom?” you ask, working hard to keep your voice even. “Megumi, are you sure you closed the door?”

Megumi gives you a betrayed look, but he still attempts to join you in bed, leaning his head onto your lap like a little house cat. He wraps an arm around your waist, just as your fingers move to play with his hair.

Itadori looks at you two with a bright, cheeky smile and you already know he has something to say before he even says it, “You guys are so cute. Making me third wheel on my own bed.”

Megumi rolls his eyes, “What are you guys doing? Are you playing that game again?”

“You know Stardew Valley?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Megumi says, “I’ve seen him play it a couple times. Never did get the appeal though. How are you enjoying just farming every day? Isn’t it repetitive?”

Itadori is passionate as he defends it, “No! I think you would really like it if you give it a chance. You get to help people rebuild the town. You make friends with villagers. You give them gifts. You can do missions for them. You can even romance them—”

“Oh?” For some reason, that is what piques Megumi’s attention. “Can you marry them too?”

Itadori affirms, “Yup! You can choose from 8 different people. If you play it, I recommend you romance Alex.”

“Why?” you blurt out, which has Megumi smiling up at you.

“Because,” Itadori says, as he shows Alex’s character on the Switch. “He’s kinda thick. All beefed up. I think he’d be your type, Fushiguro.”

Megumi’s hand is playing with your fingers as he asks, “And how do you know what my type is?”

Itadori smiles, “Well, because I’m confident you have excellent taste—“

And then he promptly puts a hand on your shoulder and flashes you a little wink.

For a moment, you’re all silent as you try to digest the moment. For a moment, you feel kinda objectified but simultaneously very sexy.

The moment ends with Megumi slapping his hand away. If you’re being honest, you’re a little turned on at the show of possessiveness. This is a side Megumi rarely shows, and you’re kind of super into it.

Megumi clears his throat, trying to clear the air. In a light voice, he says, “Send me the link. I’ll go play.”

RESULT:

YOU: 1 VIDEO GAMES: 2

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.

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ROUND FOUR

You end up getting Megumi a Nintendo Switch instead for Valentine’s.

You’d spent the extra money to get it properly gift wrapped too. It was worth it for the way Megumi carefully opened it, trying not to ruin the wrapping paper, even as you told him to just tear through it.

You spent money on this, Megumi pouted as he made sure the tape didn't tear the paper.

You pinched his cheek and teased, Baby, I spent more on the gift.

But you were so endeared that you forgot all about the wrapping paper when Megumi gasped as he finally saw what it was.

Y/N! Megumi said, throwing himself at you and pressing kisses all over your face. I love it. I’ll play it well.

Okay, okay—you know you’ve had this imaginary beef with video games, but Megumi really does love playing them. And you cannot resist the idea of making him happy.

Plus you do have a tiny bit of a hidden agenda with the Nintendo Switch. You thought about how Itadori had been playing his in bed versus how Megumi has to sit at his desk, away from bed, to play his games. You think the Nintendo Switch would be better then, because he could play video games in bed, and you could still hold him.

It feels like a compromise. A win-win situation. You want to pat yourself on the back for thinking of such a smart plan. Actually, you know what, you’re patting your back right now. Yeah!

Reality tells a different story though.

When you join Megumi in his bed for a cuddle, you find Megumi playing Stardew Valley on his Switch. Nothing wrong with that. You actually got him that game to play on the Switch instead.

It’s just that… you want a little attention. It’s been one mission after the other, so you’ve been a little stressed. You’ve all been, and you mentioned it before, how you all have your ways of coping. Megumi’s is playing video games. Yours is usually watching Netflix, listening to calming music, or even aromatherapy.

But you already looked through what Netflix had to offer and nothing. You looked through your usual playlists and nothing. You lit a candle and just blew it out. Right then, you knew what you wanted. Him.

You want him to coddle you a little bit. You want your boyfriend to tell you you did a good job today. You want Megumi to put down the Switch (which you know, you know, is kind of ridiculous because you bought that for him) and kiss you, even for just a moment.

You feel a little ridiculous about it. You’re an adult. You shouldn’t feel this needy for a little kiss from your boyfriend.

So, you push down the feeling and settle for wrapping yourself around him instead. Your cheek pressed against his hair. Your arm wrapped around his waist. Your legs tangled together. A little bit of the tension that’s been growing in your chest escapes.

You sigh, choosing to see what Megumi’s doing on screen.

He’s made a character for himself who’s wearing cute red overalls and a straw farmer hat on his little head. His character is walking around the forest, shaking the trees and collecting blackberries. It’s so cute, you feel yourself relaxing as you watch him play.

That is, until you watch him continually give gifts to this one specific character.

“Who’s that?” you mumble against his hair. “Is it a mission to give them flowers or something?”

“That’s Haley,” Megumi says.

“Oh,” you say, “What about the character Yuuji mentioned? Wasn’t that your type?”

Megumi laughs, “Yeah, but then I saw her and decided she was better. She’s a bit dumb, but she gets sweeter the more you get to know her in the game.”

You hum. Megumi continues happily, “I think I’m going to marry her. Earlier, she told me about how she just wants a family, and I just think I could give it to her. She could make me rich and pancakes in the morning, then I could go on with my day and farm.”

“Mhm,” is the only thing you can respond with. You don't exactly know what to say. You’ve known Megumi for a while now and lived with him for the same amount of time. You know Megumi, who was your best friend before anything else. You’re not quite sure you know him as a boyfriend quite yet, which makes you uncertain sometimes in deciding what type of person you need to be for him.

Right now, all you’re thinking is does he want me to be that kind of girl? Is this what he wants? A sweet vulnerable idiot who cooks for him?

And then, you think about how ridiculous it is that you’re outright placing yourself against a video game character. You must be really out of it.

You should just go back to your room and sleep it off.

You kiss Megumi’s cheek and move to get up, which has him frowning, “Are you going already? You just came here.”

You twiddle with a piece of hair, “Yeah, I think I’m just going to sleep in my room tonight.”

“Oh, you don’t want to…” Megumi trails off, his hand twisting around his sheets.

You smile, a little tired, “Maybe tomorrow. We have an early start anyway, remember?”

“Okay,” Megumi visibly deflates, and you resist the urge to come back to his bed. He quickly brightens up, flashing you a small smile, “Good night.”

It makes you smile, and this time, it feels more sincere. “Good night.”

But when you settle into your bed after, the warmth passes. Regret comes over you, and you wish you had just stayed.

You feel like an absolute loser.

RESULT:

YOU: 1 VIDEO GAMES: 3

.

.

.

ROUND FIVE

It’s been a week since you gifted Megumi the Switch and you feel like you’re losing your mind.

You’re literally jealous, because your boyfriend wants to play video games rather than pay attention to you. You’re sulking, because your boyfriend would rather romance some video game character rather than cuddle his #real girlfriend in #real life. You feel insane.

Okay—you know the stress of the recent missions has been piling up. You’ve been dealing with a lot of Grade 1 curses recently and it’s taking a lot out of you. But the added agitation from seeing Megumi play Stardew Valley, knowing he’s talking to his girlfriend there or something… unreal.

You can’t even tell anyone about this. You’re going to seem like such a loser. You already know how judged you’re going to be. You simply have to meditate this problem away.

Except, the problem never goes away. That’s just how problems work, you conclude. If you ignore them, they never get resolved. You can try sinking it as far deep as you can, but it floats back up again and again.

The thing is, you want attention, and you feel like you’re not getting enough. Between missions, and dealing with Gojo in real life— it’s not enough for you to get fleeting kisses here and there. It’s not enough to work together in missions, shoulders briefly touching.

You’re in the goddamn honeymoon period of your relationship, and you want more. It’s mortifying to admit, but you do and you’re at a place where your focus is narrowing to the point where you only care about getting it.

The only problem is that it includes getting Megumi’s attention, even at the worst of times. Even in the middle of training, when you’re supposed to be paying attention to whatever the hell Gojo is saying.

But you don’t. All you can think about is stupid Megumi, and his stupid addiction to video games, and his stupid cuddles you don’t get and his stupid mouth that hasn’t been giving you enough kisses.

You punch a little more aggressively, using more cursed energy than normal which only comes to fruition when you accidentally send Kugisaki flying into a wall. You mumble out a quick sorry, then proceed to go again.

“Woah, easy there.” Megumi teases, hair sticking up in different places. It looks so soft and fluffy. You want to bite him. “You know this is just practice right?” he asks with so much cheek.

You don’t mean to snap. You truly don’t. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes you snap on the inside. The teasing grin he’s giving you makes you wanna go absolutely batshit insane.

Which are the reasons you’ll cite later when Itadori and Gojo give you flack for asking, point black, in a voice low and serious, “Who would you choose, me or that stupid Haley from the game?”

You think Megumi can tell you weren’t playing around with the question, considering how flustered he gets. Unfortunately, the moment is cut short when Kugisaki nails an uppercut to your face as payback for throwing her against the wall. Talk about unfortunate timing.

The disappointment you feel from the lack of an answer makes you forget about the fact that everyone else is watching.

And then— you do remember and you’re absolutely fucking mortified. You’re supposed to be professional.

At the end, you all go to eat a nice meal together. And you can’t even find anything to really regret at the end of the day. I haven’t even cried about it, you think proudly to yourself.

It’s only when you’re freshly showered and happily under the covers of your bed that you remember the stupid moment. You hope Megumi forgets about it. You’re definitely going to try to tonight.

Except, you don't even get the chance to.

Your door creaks open, and you hear soft, muted footsteps across the wooden floor.

And then, someone’s climbing into your bed, settling in between you and the wall your bed is flushed against. Even in the dark, you know. It’s him.

“Hey,” Megumi says, voice tiny, “You didn’t come to my room.”

“I always come to your room,” you quietly say. You don't know if you’re saying it as an excuse.

Megumi hums, a sound as soft as light in the dark, “But you didn’t and I missed you. I want my girlfriend tonight.”

You snort, slapping whatever part of him you can reach, which lucky for him is his ass. “Stop teasing me about that already.”

“No,” Megumi agrees. You think you can hear a smile through his voice. “But you were sulking all night. Especially when I didn’t answer—”

You groan, “I don’t want to talk about it—”

Megumi makes a displeased noise, “I want to talk about it. You’re acting weird. Did I do something?”

“No!” you answer immediately.

“I don’t believe you,” Megumi stubbornly says, “Is it because I got married to Ha—“

“No.” you say with so much finality, it kills your conversation just like that, like the air has been sucked out, suffocating it. You can feel him falter, restless against you, and god, you really, really don’t want to ruin today. But you can feel his brain turning, thinking of what he did wrong, and you don't think you can end it right here. It feels like a fight that needs to be resolved now, lest it festers overnight.

You sigh, loudly. The sound is harsh in the dark. “It’s just—you always choose video games over me.”

“Huh?”

It’s out of the bag, so you think you might as well get it all out: “Sometimes, I feel like you’d rather play video games than hang out with me. Which is kind of stupid, because we spend almost all our time together. But when I’m stressed, I just want to hang out with you, but you’re busy playing video games. Or like that one time, after we had sex, you left the bed to go play video games instead. And I feel so stupid, but I’m even jealous that you’re romancing some stupid video game character, when I’m right here—”

You cut yourself off, because you sound ridiculous. “Oh my god. What the hell am I saying? Kill me. Kill me—“

“Hey!” Megumi says, grabbing your cheeks. “It’s okay. Calm down. Don’t be embarrassed. Please? Please?”

You’re pretty sure your cheeks are warm in his hands. You’re thankful for the dark, because you’re certain they would look red in the light. “Okay.”

“I hear you,” Megumi says in the most gentle voice. He always manages to take your racing mind and quiet it down. You don't know how he does it. “I hear you. But babe, why didn’t you just tell me?”

You pout, “Because. I hate feeling needy. And I don’t want to seem like some controlling asshole that wants to monopolise your time, when you probably want to relax too. The time we have together feels so small, and I find myself so greedy over it. Megumi, I think I really, really like you.”

He laughs, but it’s gentle too. “Well, I sure hope so.”

“No,” you say, “I mean, I think I like you more than I thought I did before, which is crazy because you know I like you so much already.”

“You’re so cute,” Megumi smiles and then gives you a kiss so sweet, you think the taste of honey won’t even compare to it. When you both pull away, he says, “It’s not greedy to want me. Don’t say it like that. I like that you want me. I like it when you tell me. Because you know I’ve liked you for so long, and I’m trying to do this right and not be so clingy and not be so crazy about you—”

“Be crazy about me,” you say. You’re not even thinking right now. You don't think you can when your heart is pounding so loud against your chest. “Don’t even hold back, babe. I like it so much too.”

Megumi makes a distressed noise, “Okay, don’t call me babe when we’re having a serious conversation. You know how that makes me feel. And I know you’re too tired to have sex—”

“Megumi,” you say, absolutely serious, “I have a separate energy storage for that. It’s like me with food and dessert. I have a second stomach that lets me eat more. It works exactly the same way.”

Megumi laughs, and you feel yourself fully relax. You cuddle him in your arms and sigh happily.

You feel him stroke your hair. In the end, Megumi says, “Promise me. You’ll just tell me next time, okay? Don’t feel weird, okay? I want to be a good boyfriend to you.”

“Okay,” you say, “I promise.”

RESULT:

YOU: 1,000,000 VIDEO GAMES: 3

.

.

.

BONUS ROUND

“Um,” you say, “If it’s your birthday, then how come I’m the one receiving a gift?”

“Because,” Megumi says, handing you your very own Nintendo Switch, “The gift I want from you is to play Stardew Valley with me.”

You scratch your head, “I don’t know how much I’m going to play. Megumi, I feel like this is a waste of money. You should save it and buy something you like instead—”

You shut up immediately when Megumi pouts at you so hard, you feel like you might get sent to hell for causing it. Megumi vehemently disagrees, “It’s not a waste of money! I know you’re going to love Stardew Valley. I’ll explain everything. You’re going to love toiling the land and watering crops—”

“Can’t we just make out when I’m stressed?” you argue.

“No,” Megumi says, glaring at you like an angry baby kitten. “You are not going to seduce me out of this. We are going to have a farm together. And we can even get married on this, isn’t that cute?”

Well. Why didn’t he start with that?

You clear your throat and try not to seem too excited at the idea. Instead, you choose to say, “I thought you were going to marry Haley in your little game.”

Megumi waves his hand, “I dumped her. I only wanted to pursue her anyway, because she was rich. But truly, she had nothing on you.”

Okay, it really doesn’t matter in the overall scheme of things—but you’re both a sore loser and a sore winner.

Everyone will just have to excuse you when you say: Fuck you, video games.

You have Megumi.

RESULT:

FINAL WINNER: YOU

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

pairing: geto suguru x f!reader summary: moments between you and geto, and how you inevitably ended up in his bed. genre: smut, college au, ends in fluff, geto is whipped tbh notes/warnings: mdni, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie, praise kink!, mentions of womanizer gojo bc it makes me giggle, somewhat flirty geto, flirty gojo, shoko smokes, mentions of alcohol, first time posting smut pls be nice it's mid at best. rushed and barely edited!! yes this is a repost oops. wc: ~4.9k

i.

if someone had told you five months ago that you would eventually end up in geto suguru's bed, you would've laughed in their face.

the names geto suguru and gojo satoru were notorious across your campus, and yet you had never interacted with them before you met ieiri shoko. gojo satoru was known for his flirtatious tendencies, and with a simple smile and a flash of his bright, blue eyes he was able to get most people fall for him. he had no shortage of admirers or flings, and he took great pride in the fact that none of his short-lived romances had ever ended badly.

geto suguru, on the other hand, had rarely been seen pursuing anyone. there were rumors, of course, of the lucky individuals that had gotten to spend the night with him, but geto had never taken it upon himself to confirm or deny any of them.

you couldn't care less about either one of their love lives, but no matter what classes you took and no matter who you sat next to, they always became a topic of conversation.

"so, are you going?"

you looked up from your notes to see your seatmate— mika, you think her name was— looking at you curiously. you gave her a puzzled look, earning an exasperated one in return before she leaned in.

"to the party tonight?" she whispered conspiratorially. "you know, the one gojo and geto are hosting?"

"no," you replied, turning back to your notes in hopes of ending the conversation. the truth was that you were attending, you were just hoping to get in, get tipsy, and leave before anything interesting could happen. in addition to being attractive, gojo satoru was also loaded, and that usually meant that he supplied all the alcohol at his parties without demanding some sort of payment from anyone who attended. as a broke college student, who were you to turn down free alcohol?

"you should," mika continued, a soft giggle leaving her lips as she jotted down some notes. "i heard geto will actually be there this time. something about it being in his honor."

your nose scrunched at her soft sigh, and she gave you a look of disbelief when you remained unimpressed with her news.

"you know, he barely shows up to these things, even though he lives there," she pressed on, biting her lip as she giggles.

"look," you said, not unkindly. "i'm gonna be honest with you; i could not care less about either one of them."

mika huffed before turning away, and you sighed in relief when she made no effort to continue the conversation. you looked away when you hear a snort coming from your left, and you raised your gaze to meet a pair of tired, brown eyes.

"not a fan of gojo and geto?" the girl asked, earning an amused laugh from you.

"i wouldn't know," you replied truthfully, shrugging casually. "never met 'em."

you watched as the girl barked out a laugh at your response, holding out a hand for you to shake. "i like you. i'm ieiri shoko."

you gave her your name as you shook her hand, your conversation coming to an abrupt end when your professor walked in. you smiled to yourself when the lecture eventually ended, watching as mika hurried out of class after giving you an unimpressed look.

"so, are you really not going to the party?" shoko asked, falling into step with you as you left the building. you watched as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between her lips before offering one to you. you shook you head lightly as she patted her pants pockets. "you wouldn't happen to have a lighter, would you?"

"of course i'm going," you replied, rummaging through your backpack for your lighter. you handed it to her with a smirk, earning a raised eyebrow in return as she lights the stick between her lips. "i'd be an idiot not to. i just wanted mika to stop talking."

"i guess i'll see you there," shoko mused, placing your lighter back into the palm of your hand as you came to a crosswalk. "look for me when you get there, yeah? you seem like good company."

you nodded your head as she waved, walking off in the opposite direction you were headed toward. you made it through the rest of your day without incident, making sure to grab an early dinner before taking a quick shower and lying down.

a quick glance at your clock let you know that it was nearing eight, and you sighed loudly before standing up and walking over to your closet to pick out your outfit. you took your time getting ready, music blasting as you finally slipped on your shoes and ordered a ride.

by the time you arrived at the party, it was in full swing. you could feel the bass thumping from where you stood on the sidewalk, and you quickly made your way to the front door in an attempt to escape form the cold wind.

you made a beeline towards the kitchen, resolving to get a drink first before looking for shoko. you hummed along to the song that was playing as you grabbed a cheap plastic cup, pouring yourself whatever what in the bottle closest to you. you slowly made your way out of the kitchen, raising the cup to your lips before catching sight of mika. you jolted lightly, placing your cup on the nearest table when you saw her turn your way before you ducked into a hallway.

a quiet grunt left your lips when you collided against something hard, and you felt yourself tilting backwards before a strong set of hands landed on your waist to steady you.

"woah there, are you okay?"

you glanced up to see geto suguru standing in front of you, an amused smile on his face as he studied you. you shot another glance into the main room, sighing in relief when you realized mika was no longer visible.

"yeah," you mumbled, straightening up and facing geto once more. "i'm good."

it was silent for a few seconds as geto followed your previous line of sight, his hands still resting comfortably on your waist. he turned back when you tapped his shoulder awkwardly, and you were met with the same amused smile still present on his face. he hummed in acknowledgement, looking down at you curiously as you leaned back slightly.

"you can let go now."

"my apologies," geto replied smoothly, his hands lingering for a few seconds before he pulled away. "just wanted to make sure you were okay. i'm—"

"i see you've met geto."

you peeked behind geto's broad frame to see shoko leaning against the wall across from you, and you watched as a look of mild surprise crossed geto's face.

"you two know each other?" he asked, earning nods from the two of you in return. the surprise on his face melted away into a charming smile, and he held his hand out for you to shake. "the pleasure is all mine."

you shook his hand lightly, nodding at him before turning back to shoko. you handed her your lighter wordlessly, and she gave you a grin before beckoning for you to follow her. the two of you exited out the back door, making your way towards the bordering fence as geto followed.

"i haven't seen you around before," geto commented casually, earning a suspicious look from shoko as he attempted to make conversation with you. he gave her a lopsided smile, tilting his head towards you briefly as shoko scoffed at him.

"don't go out much," you mumbled, giving him a dull look at you shrugged.

"why? overprotective boyfriend?" geto asked, earning an amused look from you at his boldness. you chuckled lightly, shaking your head as you crossed your arms.

"more like an overly comfy bed," you retorted, watching as he nodded at your words.

"i'm sure mine is comfier. i can show you, if you'd like," he responded slyly, a handsome smile on his face as he leaned in slightly.

"nah, i'm good."

geto blinked once, twice, three times at your words, staring at you in confusion as shoko's laughter rang in his head.

"what?" he asked dumbly, straightening up when shoko clapped him on the shoulder.

"i'm good," you repeated, giving him a small smile. "thanks for the offer but i'm here for the booze, not the guys."

"i've never seen this happen before," shoko breathed, stomping out her cigarette as her eyes lit up. "oh my god, i have to find satoru."

you watched shoko as she darted away, geto's eyes still on you as he composed himself. he shoved his hands into his pockets before backing away, still reeling from your rejection as you gave him one last look.

"i'm gonna go look for shoko," you mumbled, giving him a small wave before following after her. geto watched as you moved further and further away, his curiosity peaking as he waited for you to turn back and send him one last look. it never came, and he felt his stomach twist in disappointment.

ii.

"wanna grab lunch?" shoko asked, packing her stuff up as class ended. you nodded wordlessly, zipping your backpack up before slinging it over your shoulder.

"what did you have in mind?" you asked, heading towards the door.

"what about onigiri?"

you and shoko looked up to see geto by the door, his eyes on you as gojo stood beside him waving enthusiastically. a defeated sigh escaped shoko's mouth, and she hooked her arm with yours as she pulled you towards the two boys.

"only if you pay," shoko mumbled, not even having the energy to argue against geto. he gave her an innocent smile as gojo slung an arm over shoko's shoulders, effectively pulling her away from you as he shot you a curious gaze.

"have we met before? you look familiar," gojo asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you over his sunglasses. you opened your mouth to respond, stopping when he suddenly snapped his fingers. "i know! i've seen you in my dreams."

a surprised laugh left your lips as shoko groaned, and you grinned at gojo as you started walking.

"i totally haven't heard that one before," you commented, saying your name as gojo laughed.

"gojo satoru, but you can call me any time," he said, winking at you as you shook your head with a smile. you missed the way gojo stuck his tongue out at geto.

"don't get your hopes up," you replied, earning an exaggerated pout from gojo. you looked to your side when geto fell into step next to you, giving him a friendly nod as the two of you followed after gojo and shoko. you snorted as you noticed shoko's bored look, the occasional hum coming from her lips as gojo talked her ear off.

"how was class?"

you hummed when you heard geto speak, turning to look at him as he repeated his question.

"your class," he said quietly, glancing at you before turning back to look at his friends. "how was it?"

"it went well," you responded, eyeing him for a few seconds before following his gaze. "a little confusing, but shoko is crazy smart."

"she wants to be a doctor, y'know," geto said softly, a proud smile tugging at his lips. you glanced at him briefly, your eyes softening at the look on his face. "she's the smartest one out of all of us."

"i'm sure she'll be the best doctor," you said honestly. "if she ever quits smoking."

geto laughed at your comment, nodding in agreement as you came to a stop. you joined shoko at a table, nodding absentmindedly as gojo announced that he and geto would go grab the food.

"so?" shoko asked as soon as they were out of sight.

"so what?" you questioned, giving her a confused look.

"now that you've met geto and gojo," shoko began, waving a hand in the direction they had disappeared. "are you a fan?"

"they're not the worst," you admitted, receiving an amused hum in return. "they're huge flirts, but they're okay once you get past that."

shoko nodded in satisfaction just at the two boys reappeared, sliding into the empty seats next to you. you listened closely as gojo rattled off the different kinds they had gotten. you perked up when you heard your favorite ingredient, and you shyly asked if you could have that one.

gojo gave you a funny look before turning to shoko, mumbling something to her as geto held his hand out, the onigiri in hand. you thanked him with a smile, the four of you eating silently as you basked in the sun.

the silence was broken when gojo's phone went off, and his eyes widened briefly before he scarfed down the rest of his food and stood up.

"well we have to get to class," he proclaimed, tugging geto out of his seat before walking away. he paused briefly, sending you one last smile before waving. "it was nice to meet you! we should do this again, but it should just be me and you next time."

you rolled your eyes at his words, briefly catching the hard look on geto's face as you waved them off and turned back to look at shoko. she had the same funny look on her face that gojo did earlier as she looked at the two boys, humming thoughtfully before turning to you.

"you know, that's geto's favorite filling too," she commented, motioning towards your discarded wrapper with a tilt of her head. your eyebrows raised slightly, missing the insinuation behind her words as she sighed. "he always gets the same filling and refuses to eat anything else. i didn't think he'd actually give it to you."

you remained quiet after her statement, picking up the trash before tossing it into the bin next to your table. "there's a first time for everything, i guess."

"who knows," shoko mused, giving you a playful look as she stood up. "maybe he likes you."

iii.

shoko quickly became a constant in your life, and with her came gojo and geto.

"we're a package deal!" gojo had said when you made a comment about seeing them every single day. "you either get all of us, or none of us."

you couldn't find it in yourself to complain, especially not when the three of them turned out to be good friends. once you got used to the flirting, gojo was kind and funny, always knowing how to cheer you up. shoko was as blunt and honest as ever, and with her help, you were able to raise your grade in the classes the two of you shared.

geto was a different story. unlike gojo, he had never flirted with you after that night at the party, and you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed about it as you spent more time with him.

no one knew how, but you and geto quickly became study buddies. he was more serious than gojo, helping you stay focused, but less strict than shoko, who liked to use tough love to help you retain information. the two of you spent many afternoons at the library, sometimes joined by shoko or gojo, but mostly alone.

you quickly learned that geto was smart, almost frighteningly so, and he had a natural talent for teaching. his voice was soft and pleasant, his tone patient as you asked him to explain concepts you couldn't quite grasp. your study sessions usually ended in dinners together, grabbing whatever you could get from the university's food court.

he was also caring, always making sure to walk you home if your studying ran late. this often resulted in teasing looks from gojo, a pout on his face as he made kissy noises whenever the two of you would leave him behind. he always made sure you walked on the inner side of the sidewalk and he wouldn't leave you alone until he was sure your door was locked, and as the days dragged on, you found yourself becoming more and more attracted to geto suguru.

"you don't get it!" you complained, flopping onto your bed as shoko flipped through a magazine. "he's so— ugh."

"so ugh?" shoko repeated teasingly, watching as you tilted your head back to look at her.

"shoko!" you whined, throwing an arm over your eyes as you huffed. "i thought he was just a flirt. i didn't know he was this charming."

"this is hilarious," shoko commented, ignoring your glare. "remember when you turned him down?"

"he just wanted to hook up," you murmured, sighing softly before sitting up. "now that i've gotten to know him, i'm thinking i should've said yes when i had the chance."

"and who says you don't have a chance now?"

"he doesn't flirt with me!" you exclaim. when you see shoko raise her eyebrow, you elaborate. "he was flirting that night at the party because he was interested. he doesn't say anything that even remotely implies his interest in me anymore. the only one who flirts is gojo!"

"oh, geto definitely has an interest," shoko muttered, earning a curious glance from you. "look, he gives you his favorite foods, tutors you, and even walks you home. i've never seen him do that for anyone else. he wont even tutor satoru! and that's his best friend. if anything, you caught his interest when you turned him down."

shoko's eyes widened in panic when you pouted sadly, your expression falling as you took in her words.

"so he's only interested in me because i'm a challenge?" you asked quietly, earning a frustrated sigh from shoko.

"yes," she answered, getting a sad look from you. "but not in the way you think. he's never had anyone turn him down before you. and then he got to know you and he liked you. i don't think he wants to 'just hook up with you'. he wants to be with you."

"but what if—"

"trust me on this," shoko interrupted. you bit your lip hesitantly before nodding your head. "i think you should start the flirting. if he sees you're interested, then he'll reciprocate. i'm sure of it."

iv.

you felt a vague sense of deja vu as you stepped into gojo and geto's shared house once again, loud music playing as you weaved your way through the crowd.

you were on high alert as you looked for shoko, yet you still jumped when you felt a heavy arm wrap around your shoulders.

"hey!" gojo shouted, leaning in close to make sure you heard him over the loud music. "when did you get here?"

"a minute ago," you responded flatly, the faint smell of alcohol filling your nostrils as gojo hugged you. he giggled softly and you rolled your eyes with a smile, knowing he was probably already tipsy.

"who are you looking for?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he gave you a sultry look. "suguru?"

"no!" you denied, feeling your cheeks grow warm at the name. you averted your gaze, missing the way gojo's smile grew at your reaction. he guided you through the crowd and into the kitchen, coming to a stop when you saw shoko and geto leaning against the fridge.

"look who i found!" gojo proclaimed, pushing you in front of shoko and geto. shoko crowed your name with a smile, and you smiled back at her before glancing at geto. you froze slightly when you saw the way his eyes were trailing over your figure, taking in your outfit before his eyes settled on your face. there was a lazy smirk on his face as he nodded his head at you.

"hey," he greeted, his normal volume almost quiet in the loud room.

"hi," you replied, earning a groan from shoko. she walked forward, grasping gojo's arm before tugging him away.

"we're going outside," she announced, frowning when a noise of protest left gojo's lips. she flicked his forehead before glancing at you and geto, and a look of understanding fell across his face before he shut his mouth and followed after her without hesitation.

"you know," geto started, sighing as gojo disappears from sight. "something tells me they're not going outside."

"i feel compelled to agree," you grumbled, earning a chuckle from geto.

"i didn't think you were gonna come," he commented casually, turning to face you as you grabbed a bottle of water.

"oh you know," you said, shrugging half-heartedly as you took a sip. geto's eyes focused on your lips. "i go out occasionally."

"occasionally? why? got an overprotective boyfriend or something?" geto asked, his tone teasing as he repeats the same words he spoke when you first met. you grinned in response, putting your water bottle down on the counter as you crept closer to him.

"no, more like an overly comfy bed," you responded, your heart racing when he leaned down.

"i'm sure mine is comfier. i can show you, if you'd like."

"i would," you said, biting your lip when geto’s eyes widened. he paused briefly before slipping his hand into yours, pulling you out of the kitchen.

neither one of you noticed the way gojo and shoko exchanged a smug look as he led you upstairs.

v.

all of those previous interactions with geto suguru culminated into the position you find yourself in now: in his bed.

a gasp leaves your lips as geto's hands trail underneath your shirt, pulling the fabric up and over your head with one hand as he fondles your breast with the other.

your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you give him a bruising kiss, feeling his hands slip behind your back to unhook your bra. a hiss leaves your lips as the cool air hits your nipples, and he immediately takes one into his mouth, warm tongue laving over your hardened nipple as you moan.

your hands tug at his shirt, and he separates himself from you briefly to take it off and toss it off to the side, his fingers immediately going down to his belt to undo it. your own hands tug at your pants, pulling your underwear along with it as you kick them off the bed.

geto freezes when he sees you sprawled on his bed, and he licks his lips before reaching our and grabbing your thighs, pulling you flush against his own before dipping a finger in between your folds.

"so wet and i haven't even touched you," he murmurs, enjoying the way you squirm at his touch. "all this for me?"

"yeah," you breathe, biting your lips when you notice geto's eyes darken. "all for you. i need you, geto."

"suguru," he corrects, fingers swirling around your clit as you gasp. "say it."

"need you, suguru," you whimper, watching him with rapt attention as he pumps himself a few times.

"are you sure?" he asks, watching the way you squeeze your eyes shut when the head of his cock brushes against your folds.

"i'm ready. i need you. i can take you."

geto breathes in sharply at your words, his eyes trained on your cunt as he pushes in slowly. you're perfect for him, your warm walls pulling him in as your face scrunches up with pleasure. a soft moan leaves your lips as he circles your clit, burying himself even further into you until his balls rest against your ass.

he remains still for a moment, getting used to feeling of you squeezing him until you start moving your hips against him.

"please move, suguru," you whine, your voice soft and needy in his ears.

"anything for you," he whispers, lowering himself down to kiss you as he intertwines a hand with yours. he swallows your moans as he pulls out, leaving only the tip in before thrusting into you at a harsher pace.

"feels good, suguru," you moan against his lips, your hand squeezing him as he picks up his pace.

"you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers against your lips. "you're so tight. look at you, taking me so well."

you moan at his words, your cunt clenching around him as he praises you.

"been thinking about this since the night i met you," he confesses, burying his face into the crook of your neck. he lets go of your hand to grab your legs, placing them onto his shoulders as his thrusts get deeper. "i knew this pretty pussy would be perfect for me."

your hands grab at the bedsheets as he keeps a steady rhythms, and geto finds himself fascinated by the way your breasts bounce every time he thrusts into you. he watches as you arch after a particularly deep thrust, and he makes sure to repeat the motion, enjoying the way you mewl as he reaches the deepest parts inside of you.

"suguru!" you cry out, your legs trembling as his fingers tease your clit. "i-i'm close!"

"cum for me," he whispers, eyes focused on your face as you spasm around his cock. you moan softly as he keeps thrusting, helping you ride out your high before he pulls out. you're flipped onto your stomach before you can react, your legs trembling as you try to keep yourself up on all fours.

"do you think you can do that again for me, sweetheart," geto whispers into your ear, his lips trailing down the side of your neck as you nod. "lie down for me, yeah?"

you're squirming as you obey, your face down on the sheets as geto looms over you. his usual half-bun is messy and loose from your earlier tugging, and you can feel the long strands of silky hair tickling your shoulders. his hand feels heavy as it rests on the back of your neck, keeping you in place as the tip of his dick brushes against your clit. a breathy moan leaves your lips, and he smirks as he watches you, stilling momentarily before you feel the head of his cock prod at your folds once again.

you wiggle your hips in an effort to get him to move, whining softly as you try to turn back and look at him. he chuckles lowly, fingers brushing your hair away from your shoulder before he leans down to press a teasing kiss against it. he complies anyways, groaning as he sinks into you and enjoying the way your cunt seems to suck him in.

he wonders if you know that he could never possibly deny you anything.

"harder, suguru," you beg, clenching around him as he grinds into you. "please."

it isn't long until he gives in, rutting into you like it's the only thing he's good for, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke and sending you into a state of frenzied euphoria. you can feel his hand pushing you down, your back arching obscenely as his other hand creeps between your thighs, skilled fingers expertly nudging at your clit.

"suguru, pleasepleaseplease," you gasp, wiggling your hips to try and get him to go faster. "more, please, i—"

geto knows. he knows exactly what your trying to tell him as he speeds up, the wet sounds of your cunt only spurring him on. there's a creamy ring at the base of his cock, and geto grabs at the fat of your ass in an attempt to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

"suguru!" you squeal, trembling underneath him. "i'm cumming!"

geto grins when you gush all over him, clear liquid spattering all over his abs and thighs, coating his dick and making it easier for him to slip in and out of you. he stills for a brief moment, a low grunt leaving him as he empties himself into you. you whimper softly when he pulls out, and he grabs your chin to tilt your face toward him, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips before leaning back.

"look at you, you did so good for me, gushing all prettily around my cock," he murmurs. he watches as you clench around nothing, his cum dripping down to your clit when you hear his words. he reaches forward to gather it all up, purposely teasing your clit to hear you moan once again.

he makes no complaint when you roll over and grab his hand, licking his fingers clean before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down onto you. the two of you exchange lazy kisses before he rolls over, pulling you onto his chest before giving you a soft look.

"i like you," he says quietly, squeezing your waist as he gives you another kiss. "you know that, right?"

"mhm," you mumble tiredly. "i kinda guessed."

you press another kiss to his lips before resting your head on his chest. "i like you too."

"good," he chuckles, burying his face into your hair. "we should probably get cleaned up."

"yeah," you agree, making no move to get up. the two of you lay in silence for a few minutes, almost drifting off to sleep before you hear a loud knock on the door.

"hey!" gojo's voice is loud through the door. "congrats on the sex!"

ty for reading <3 !!

minors and ageless blogs dni

gojo x afab reader, filming/sex vids, teasing, a hint of spit, maybe a hint of size kink, baby as a pet name, filth with a little bit of softness.

gojo keeps a lot of videos on his phone.

hidden, yes, but a few albums worth. and they’re curated, much to your embarrassment. he grins at you as you realize he’s got them labeled by position, by kinks, by quotes.

(“oh, that's a favorite. ten outta ten, baby, you should be proud,” he purrs when your thumb hovers over the album with ‘t-too big! i can’t—you’re so big~’ as the title. it’s humiliatingly full. the cover photo is a hamster with its cheek stuffed to the brim. you decide that boyfriend or not, you hate him.)

gojo has a treasure trove of videos, but he also has a favorite.

your cunt squelches as he drags the head of his cock through your folds. the camera's zoomed in tight, catching the way your hole pulses as he slips by it. in the distance, you hiss out an annoyed breath, but gojo just gives a teasing little hum about your impatience.

he plays with you, pulling away just enough that your slick webs between you, dripping sticky from his cock. he presses back between the folds of your pussy and gives a lazy thrust. and then another, and another, until his pre is smeared all over your skin.

the head of his cock catches on your hole. it sinks in just a bit, barely stretching you. your breath catches.

"that what you want?" gojo asks, his grin audible.

he presses forward, and your cunt starts to open on the fat tip, spreading around the flared head. he holds himself there. and then he moves his hips, enough to shift him in you without pushing in. your hips quiver as he stretches you.

"satoru, please," you keen, as he pushes a hint deeper, just enough to pop the head of his cock inside, your fluttering cunt swallowing it greedily.

"so cute when you're desperate," he coos. "don't worry, i'll give you what you need, baby."

he pans up just as he bottoms out with a hard, deep thrust, quick enough to catch the way you throw your head back, the way your back arches, the way your pretty mouth goes round as you cry out.

the camera lingers on the hint of spit rolling from the corner of your lips, and then it cuts out.

(his other favorite is much simpler. he's rolling his hips into you, steady and slow, his thumb grazing over the furled peak of your nipple. your face is soft with pleasure. open and sweet and almost painfully vulnerable.

"love you," you breathe, looking up at him with an agonizing tenderness. it flays him open, a knife blade of affection, and he goes still.

and the phone drops, the screen going black, but with the sound still going. it's all soft, inaudible murmurs, words kept secret in the sanctuary of your bedroom, and then a sweet, sharp cry as you cum.)

gojo has an entire collection of videos, but he's always happy to add more.

maw

“I’m afraid I’ll eat them, sometimes,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says, curling a big hand around your nape, cupping your skull. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “I know.”

You think he’s the only one who does.

notes: me writing someone other than nanami? it’s more likely than you’d think. i lowkey felt possessed when i wrote the meat of this in a frenzy in my tumblr drafts. the getou & consumption brainrot is real. this isn’t even my getou wip. god. do not perceive me.

pairing: getou suguru x afab reader

wc: ~2k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, jjk manga spoilers (gojo’s past arc), pre-canon but with aged up characters (college au), afab reader (no pronouns used), canon-typical blood & gore, canonical minor character deaths, brief religious references, reader has a (somewhat vague) innate technique, said innate technique swallows up some corpses at some points, cannibalism (in a nightmare), fingering, smut, non-linear timeline. let me know if i missed anything!

It was only ever Suguru.

Later, you’ll hear all the different theories as to where you went so wrong: you are a lamb led astray, unaware of the sharp-toothed grin closing slow around you; you ate the apple straight from his hand, lips glistening and tongue wrapping slick around his fingertips, the crimson skin of it catching between your teeth, till your smile was only bloodied, pulpy gums; the gluttony of the insatiable maw of your technique drove you mad.

But it was only ever him.

Just a man with a sunset smile, something slow that filled the sky, that painted the world with color. Just a man with kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when he laughed.

(Just a man with rot laid heavy on his tongue, pulsing black and pungent, little veins of blight uncurling to slip down his throat, into his belly, to fester and keep.

If you swallow someone else’s sins, you wonder, must you atone too?)

There was no trickery, no seduction, no madness.

It was just Suguru.

The elders send you to wade through what he leaves in his wake.

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