[11:23 Pm] Mafia!Sugawara Carried You Back To The Manor In Complete Silence. You Had Just Scared The

[11:23 pm] Mafia!Sugawara carried you back to the manor in complete silence. You had just scared the absolute shit out of him. One moment a gun was being pointed at him and the next you were standing in front of him, arms stretched out in an attempt to shield him. Though the gun never went off and the perpetrator was apprehended without any injuries, this had to be the scariest situation he’s ever experienced.

“Suga, I’m fine I promise”

He didn’t reply to you as he entered your room, setting you down on your bed. His heart was still beating as hard as it was in that moment, the adrenaline not quite fading yet. Choked words finally fell out of his mouth.

“…Why? Why did you jump in front of me?”

His jaw was clenched and tears were building up in his eyes. Your chest tightened as you reached out to wipe his tears away.

“Is it really that hard to understand? I want to be able to protect you.”

He suddenly pulled away from you and grabbed your wrist, knocking you on your back with him hovering over you. In one swift motion he was leaning down and kissing you, your hands now finding each other slowly clasping together. He pulled away after a few moments, the intense look on his face never fading

“That isn’t your job! I’m part of the mafia! I’ll die one day, ready to repay for my sins but you…you can’t do that!

His hands trembled from both anger and fear as he continued talking.

“It wouldn’t have mattered if I died. But not you, you shouldn’t have jumped in front of me!”

It hurt your heart to hear him talking like this, like his life didn’t matter. Hearing him place such little value on himself while his eyes were filled with tears, it absolutely gripped your heart. Had he always been like this?

“But…it would have mattered if you died, Suga. If I had to go through it again, I would still do the same thing.”

Your eyes pierced him, he felt utterly vulnerable. It was as if you could see through his very being.

“Why, though?”

You smiled and squeezed his hand in yours making him choke on his own breath, “Because I love you.”

With that Suga lost any control he might have had left and kissed you again. He loved you so very much. You were able to give him a home when he felt he had none. You stole his heart and he’d gladly give it to you again if you asked. Hell, he’d burn the world to the ground without a single flame touching you if you simply wished it. He promised himself in that moment that he would always protect you and keep you safe.

tee do you ever think about how telling rich boy gojo you’re proud of him makes him caught off guard a bit? everyone just brushes off his achievements because they’re to be expected so the first time he hears it from you it makes him do a double take :(

[ PROUD ] GOJO SATORU.

you say it off handedly the first time, just a casual statement as gojo playfully boasts about acing a quiz he didn’t even study for. his head’s on your lap and you’re scrolling through your phone with one hand while absentmindedly playing with his hair with the other, and it catches him by surprise.

“guess how much of a genius your boyfriend is,” he grins, “i got an A on that quiz i forgot to study for. pure genius, huh?”

because that’s gojo, praising his own accomplishments for himself so no one has to—filling the void alone because no one will. you chuckle quietly as your nails rake over his scalp, moving your hand to gently pinch his cheek as you nod.

“very genius,” you agree, and he grins gleefully—because that’s enough. it’s a small acknowledgment, but he doesn’t dare hope for more. and then your next words make him pause, make him wonder if he heard you correctly. “i’m proud of you, toru.”

proud.

and in all honesty, it’s a casual statement. it’s almost like you said it without even fully thinking about it, but it sounds so sincere—so painfully sincere—that his breath hitches in his throat. it’s the way the words are so easy to slip from your tongue, gliding off like they don’t need a second thought, like being proud of him is normal, like it’s as involuntary as the beat of your heart.

you seem to notice his reaction too—because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t soften your face like that, or cup his cheeks like this right now, leaning down to press gentle kiss after the other across his face. it’s like you’re making up for years worth of moments that have been brushed aside, like you’re making up for the hurt parts of him that yearn for just one time that someone really looks at him. you press a kiss to the tip of his nose, across his forehead, along the angle of his cheekbone until one final press of your lips meets his own.

“‘m very proud of you,” you hum, rubbing a thumb over the soft flesh of his cheek, “always am. even if it was just luck this time,” you add teasingly, pinching his nose.

he grins, let’s the feeling bubble up his chest and spread until they reach his fingertips, let’s the warmth tuck itself under his skin and knit into his muscles as he relaxes against your hold. because here, when it’s just you, when the world’s not looking for gojo and he gets to just be satoru, you appreciate the small things no matter how trivial they seem to be.

even just doing well on a quiz.

“hey,” he defends, “it was a hard quiz.”

“it was over the first chapter. the easiest one, satoru.”

“but you’re still proud,” he winks, but you know it’s just to hear you say again, just to grant him one more opportunity to listen to the foreign words so he can really engrave them in his brain.

and maybe he thinks it’s the last time he’ll hear them, that it was just an accident and you’ll never repeat them again—because why would you be proud of him? why be proud of things that are expected?

but it doesn’t stop you from whispering them against his forehead once more. “yes, i’m very proud,” you murmur before pecking the skin.

“lots to be proud of when you’re dating me, sweetheart,” he says smugly—but if his voice is a bit strained and his lips are a little wobbly, you don’t mention it, and he’s grateful. “i’m a real catch, huh?”

“oh yes, i’ve won the lottery,” you nod, playfully flicking his forehead. and then your eyes turn tender, and your smile is sweeter, and the way you hold his face is as delicate as the love on your expression. “i love you, toru.”

“love you too, you sap,” he teases, but the look on his face is content, hopeful even, that maybe he has something to be proud of besides himself for once.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

your honor i luv him :( he’s my baby :(

Why do you want to marry me?

I craved pain and you know what happened 😃, I'm thinking to make this into 2 parts. Maybe. If time permits. Also I'm trying to work on equivalent part 2, but the draft is still meh to me :/

Summary: The future of your engagement is decided today.

Warning: angst without comfort.

Masterlist

It’s been two weeks since you lost sight of your fiance. He usually would burst into your workplace in the loudest and extra way possible just to ask you for lunch, yet you were met with nobody today, yesterday, and the week before.

Your texts and calls go unanswered. You’re basically spamming his notifications at this point but you don’t care. He’s unusually quiet and it worries you. So that’s why you went out of work early to check him at his place.

The silver ring on your annular finger goes loose for a moment, you fixed it before ringing his doorbell. Hearing his footsteps coming nearer, you unconsciously fixed your hair quickly. Heart beating expectantly.

The white door swung open and revealed the man you have searched for in his sleeping attire. Loose black shirt with black sweatpants, his hair is messy and sleep is still clearly seen on his face. It’s already midday, why is he waking up so late?

“Sato–”

“Why are you here?” He asked, he spoke a bit faster so you need some extra seconds to comprehend his words but the only thing that stuck in your head is the fact that he just questioned why you’re on his front door. His way of talking also feels strange, a bit rude— you dare say, like he doesn’t want you here. You may just overthink this because you haven’t seen him in days, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel any pain at his choice of words.

“I– I was… looking for you.” You said, surprisingly hesitant. The man in front of you is not the usual Gojo who would pick you up after work. No. So who is exactly this cold man who’s wearing the face of your fiance?

“Why?” You don’t miss the way his forehead frowned, like he’s actually offended by your answer.

“I have been trying to contact you for days.” You can’t hold back the emotions flooding inside you. Your anger slowly leaking in your tone at his indifferent expression. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine. See?”

What’s up with him? Went missing for days without any news then  showing up without any remorse or guilt of having you worried for him. Not that you asked for anything, but a simple notice would be nice.

You sighed. Being his fiancee for five months  is enough for you to understand how stubborn he is. “Just let me in for a minute.” Your voice came out as a whisper. You avert your gaze to the floor tile below as you continue. “Is that also too much to ask?”

You missed the way his pupils dilated. His indifference cracked for a moment, replaced with an unexpected surprise on his tired face. He expected this, your reaction and everything however his heart doesn’t get used to it and instead clenched painfully inside his ribcage.

You rubbed your right arm hesitantly under his stark gaze. “It’s cold...”

He sighed. “Fine.”

You decide to ignore how forced he is acting when he makes space for you to go inside. The chilling wind of winter subdued the moment you set your foot inside, but the raging storm inside your heart remains there, the thought that you possibly upset him plagued your mind.

“Hurry up.” He ushered you. You walked with a heavy heart.

You took a seat on one of his expensive couches. You used to watch movies here with him… it used to feel so comfortable, but now the material feels stiff.

He’s gone to the second floor and for a moment you thought he would leave you here alone, but he’s back with a blanket shortly after.

“Here.”

You accepted the blanket. “Thanks.”

He just nodded and then went to the kitchen this time. Maybe it’s just you, but you thought he’s purposefully busying himself so he doesn’t have to talk to you. Your suspicion might be true since he’s quickly given you a glass of water, sitting on another couch and playing with his phone instead.

He ignored you.

“Satoru.”

“Hmm.”

“Can we talk?”

“We are talking, Y/N.”

“I mean, like properly.” you huffed, stressed by how lightly he took this situation. “I haven’t had any chance to talk to you.”

“You can just text me.”

“I have. You didn’t read them.”

“Was planning to.”

“But?”

“I’m busy.” His aloof way of talking both irritates and hurts you. He never acted like this before, you also don't reckon doing anything to upset him. You were doing fine with him, until recently. Or is it just you who thought everything is fine but it’s actually not? You are full of questions and dying to ask him, but you won’t have your answer. Not with him ignoring you like this.

“Hey,” You softly called him, he still doesn’t spare you a glance. “Satoru.” You put a hand on his thigh, and he flinched.

Immediately, you retracted your hand. Feeling embarrassed that he doesn’t even want you to touch him. “Did I do something wrong?”

“...No.” He scrolled in God knows what and continue to turn a blind eye to you, who’s actually on the verge of tears.

“So why did you ignore me?”

The desperation on your voice is thick, and is straight shameful. But you don’t know any better, you don’t know what to do with him acting so strange like this. Your mind whispers the things you don’t wanna know, your greatest fear and nightmare. His attitude doesn’t help in any way.

“I don’t… I’m just busy.” He sighed, he sounds tired and maybe it’s true that he’s so busy yet your heart still insists.

“Too busy to make a call?”

“Y/N.” he finally looked at you, clearly irritated. His eyes hid so many emotions that are foreign to you. You are scared as much as how pathetic you feel right now.

“Did you…” only then he finally noticed the lightness in your voice, the tremble of your hands, and the pale color of your face. “Did you cheat on me?”

At that moment, he knew he took things too far. Your tears threatened to fall as they filled your waterline.

“I don’t–”

“Answer me.” The strictness in your voice startled him.

“I’m not.” He stutters. “I would never.”

“So are you bored of me?”

“Why are you—” You stood. Finally fed up with his antics. You picked up your purse and looked at him dead in the eyes.

“Looks like I just wasted your time.” You roughly rubbed your eyes with your arms. Noticing your movement, he also got up. His eyes frantically searched for yours.

“Wa-wait,” He grabbed your wrist which you yanked to get him off of you. “Where are you going?”

“Why bother asking.” You nudged him when he tried to catch your hand again. “I’ll just leave you here.”

Before you are able to pull the door open, he catches your shoulder and turns your body to face him. “Y/N!” He slams your back to the door a bit too hard. The door knob hits your waist.

“Ouch.” You whimpered and he’s at lost for words.

“Shit, are you alright? I didn’t mean to—” He raised his hand to help you out but you mistook his intention as a threat, you raised both arms in front of your face while squeezing your eyes shut.

He froze. Did you just think that he would hit you?

“I…” his tears fell just like that. “Did you just–”

His quiet sobs attract your attention, you took a small peek at him and found him looking at you with tears staining his cheeks.

“Do you think I will hit you?” He asked, for reassurance. “Are you scared of me?”

“... Yes.” Your small confirmation just made his heart break inside, shattered everything like a thin piece of glass. His heart bleeds at the thought that he scared you, his fiancee.

“Why?”

“I don’t know you.” You tried to suppress your sobs but failed. Your futile attempt just made his heartache worsen. “You’re not my fiance, not my Satoru. I don’t know who you are and why you keep hurting me like this.”

“I-i’m,” he tried to talk, to say anything but his tongue goes numb after your breakdown. He caused this, the one who made you cry is the same man who promised to protect you.

“What do you want?” You asked. “You can just be honest, so i won’t have to be like this everyday.” You bit your lips hard. ‘I’m like a fool, looking for you when you clearly don’t want that.”

He watched in pure horror as you pulled your engagement ring off your finger. The feeling is so terrible, like your heart is being pulled into half. His chest feels suffocated.

“I’m tired.” You told him. “Really tired of your games.” You put the ring on the small table nearby and turned to open the door but turned to him once again. He’s still frozen, completely distraught when you give him a small box.

“You can dump this too.” When he comes to his senses, he’s alone in his house with a small gift box with a small note in his hand.

Happy birthday, Satoru.

Masterlist

Your favorite writers have stopped updating, not returned from hiatus, or simply deactivated altogether, because they get no support.

If you're one of the people who goes to X writer's inbox and says "I know I don't reblog from you-" lemme just stop you right there.

We have lives. We have duties, things to do, responsibilities, because a big chunk of us are adults. It's okay that you have other things, that you're not always available, that you might be going through something and can't always read or reblog everything. Writers get that.

But no writer wants to see you tell them "Hey, I know I don't reblog from you!"

They know. They're in a slump for a reason. The reason isn't you not reblogging or supporting them, the reason is hardly anyone doing it.

And if you go to them and wave the "hey!! I don't reblog from you even though it's all you ask in return for your free work!" card, chances are, the writer will be upset. They can't very well point out how tactless you're being, because then they might just be cancelled or called out for being rude to you when you are deliberately being tone-deaf to their situation as well.

Like you, writers have lives outside. Writers have jobs, or are searching for them; they have worries, duties, things going on, worries, etc.

The difference is they sit for hours upon hours to write, while it would only take you between a second and a minute to reblog.

Reblogging is absolutely not difficult. Fast reblogging is incredibly quick and practical, but "slow" reblogging isn't slow either. You don't even have to add a comment to the reblog, an empty reblog is just as appreciated.

Supporting your writers is literally not difficult, and if you as a reader and as a consumer aren't going to do it, then it's totally fine if you choose not to. Your life, your blog, your choice.

But don't go at a writer to remind them "Hey I know I'm among the people who doesn't support you but I still like what you write" and expect them to be overwhelmed with joy without feeling the slightest tinge of resentment.

Likes do nothing!!!

If you're in the position to support a writer, do it. It's not hard.

Everyone talks about "being a child is not a sin" but why does no one talk about "it's unforgivable to steal the youth from children"?