Thinking About That One Snippet In The JJK Manga Where It Says That Haibara Had A Younger Sister Who

Thinking about that one snippet in the JJK Manga where it says that Haibara had a younger sister who could see curses just he wouldn't allow her to go to jujutsu tech 💗.

How sweet, how wholesome.

Yet, Haibara still brought his friends around, including his Senpai. Geto Suguru.

You gained a crush on your brother's senpai, who wasn't as outspoken like the other one, Gojo Satoru.

Geto was always so kind, so calm natured. The two of you only being two years apart. The way he would offer to walk you home from school, saying your brother asked him to (he didn't 💗). The way you both would end home alone, his lips clashing onto yours. His words are coming out soft despite your words of hesitation, "Don't worry, sugar, your brother looks up to me...he'd want us to be together" before his kisses are making your mind fuzzy. The taste of smoke on his breath, the way his tongue claimed your mouth. The way his hands are all over your body, hiking up your school skirt as he spreads your legs. Hushing your pleas of protest that quickly turned into soft moans and whimpers.

You were always such a good girl listening to him, he didn't even have to summon any curses. How sweet of you to cooperate

Then, after Haibara's death. That's all it took for Suguru to sweep on it, murmuring the sweetest of words.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. It's what a senpai is for, right?" He spoke so softly as he hugged you close. You couldn't even hear the smile behind his voice.

*****

Another little blurb that has been living in my mind rent-free after I read that little snippet. I don't think I'll write a full fic for it since we barely know anything about Haibara.

Okay full fic is out! Read HERE

Imagine being Gojo's next door neighbor, like I think we can all agree the guy is a freak. Probably a bit insane at times.

Imagine just being the first person that actually showed him an ounce of kindness, could be a nonsorcerer (imo he would live far away from campus preferably as a way to get away from clan bullshit) living in the same complex as him. Nothing too fancy. And he's just staring at the community laundry room (firm believer this man is awful at chores) unsure what to do as he holds his dirty laundry basket.

You gently walked him through the steps and even let him use your detergent! How sweet of you!

But don't you know? If you feed a stray, they'll always follow.

So that's how you end up with this blue-eyed (beautiful) freak always asking you for help.

Instead of making one bento for work in the morning? Now you're making two, don't forget he likes his veggies cut up into shapes. Oh? He accidentally bought too much mochi :(? Oh no, looks like he's at your apartment tonight sharing with you.

How'd he get fresh mochi from Kyoto? He'd just laugh and says he travels a lot for work. Must be some sort of business man was your first thought. Though he didn't look the part, and idol? Yakuza? You'll ask later!

You definitely don't know how rich he is, he's tried explaining to you (multiple times) that he doesn't need to use coupons for take out meals or when you go grocery shopping together. When he pays for things? He doesn't expect you to venmo him half, he thought you'd take advantage of it like everyone else.

So, of course he falls first! You're just so kind to him!

As a thank you, the company you work for got bought out by some rich family, The Gojo Family, you honestly just thought it was a strange coincidence. So, that manager that always gave you a hard time? Yeah, he lost his job and you finally got that promotion that you've been working towards for years!

That's not all though.

You've noticed that he always seems to know when you're home? Strange? Also strange that a new app appeared on your phone, must be a software update.

Or perhaps noticing that some of your items shifted? He does like to touch your stuff, he's definitely not putting cameras around :)

Because you're a nonsorcerer! Satoru feels the need to have to look out for such a thing like you. After all, Suguru always told him to protect the weak right?

****

Little blurb because I'm bored at work! This man continues to live in my noggin rent free.

Will be writing a full fic for this by next week! :)

Imagine being Gojo's next door neighbor, like I think we can all agree the guy is a freak. Probably a bit insane at times.

Imagine just being the first person that actually showed him an ounce of kindness, could be a nonsorcerer (imo he would live far away from campus preferably as a way to get away from clan bullshit) living in the same complex as him. Nothing too fancy. And he's just staring at the community laundry room (firm believer this man is awful at chores) unsure what to do as he holds his dirty laundry basket.

You gently walked him through the steps and even let him use your detergent! How sweet of you!

But don't you know? If you feed a stray, they'll always follow.

So that's how you end up with this blue-eyed (beautiful) freak always asking you for help.

Instead of making one bento for work in the morning? Now you're making two, don't forget he likes his veggies cut up into shapes. Oh? He accidentally bought too much mochi :(? Oh no, looks like he's at your apartment tonight sharing with you.

How'd he get fresh mochi from Kyoto? He'd just laugh and says he travels a lot for work. Must be some sort of business man was your first thought. Though he didn't look the part, and idol? Yakuza? You'll ask later!

You definitely don't know how rich he is, he's tried explaining to you (multiple times) that he doesn't need to use coupons for take out meals or when you go grocery shopping together. When he pays for things? He doesn't expect you to venmo him half, he thought you'd take advantage of it like everyone else.

So, of course he falls first! You're just so kind to him!

As a thank you, the company you work for got bought out by some rich family, The Gojo Family, you honestly just thought it was a strange coincidence. So, that manager that always gave you a hard time? Yeah, he lost his job and you finally got that promotion that you've been working towards for years!

That's not all though.

You've noticed that he always seems to know when you're home? Strange? Also strange that a new app appeared on your phone, must be a software update.

Or perhaps noticing that some of your items shifted? He does like to touch your stuff, he's definitely not putting cameras around :)

Because you're a nonsorcerer! Satoru feels the need to have to look out for such a thing like you. After all, Suguru always told him to protect the weak right?

****

Little blurb because I'm bored at work! This man continues to live in my noggin rent free.

Baked with Love (Geto x Reader) - Drabble/preview

Summary: You were a fresh out of college and happened to become roommates with one of the most dangerous curse user and his two adopted daughters. Could you cook your way into his heart? Takes place a couple years after the KFC breakup. 

a/n: There is not enough Geto fluff on this site :( Taking a break from writing ACOTAR fanfics! Also, not using Geto’s famous word because it makes me feel…weird..so I’m just using non-sorcerer a lot. Sorry! WC: 1.5k

****

After recently graduating from Tokyo University with a finance degree and landing a not-so-wonderful corporate job, you decided to splurge on a high-rise apartment with amazing views and a rooftop garden. Shortly after moving in, you occasionally heard two little girls playing in the apartment next door, either on the patio or through the thin walls. A nice family next door must mean a peaceful complex. Little did you know, the most dangerous curse user, who threatened the lives of non-sorcerers, lived in that quaint, peaceful apartment right next to yours.

A week goes by, and after starting your new corporate job, the nine-to-five lifestyle quickly begins to leave you stressed. To unwind from a dreaded day of spreadsheets and numbers, you picked up a new hobby: cooking and baking. However, one issue arose rather quickly. You end up making too much nearly every night, more than you can even bring to work. Sure, you could bring the dozens of muffins you made in five different flavors to the office, but what are the chances someone would actually grab a couple? You were new, after all, and didn’t have the proper work clique. Another thought: you could always drop some off for the peaceful family next door. With two small children, surely food wouldn’t go to waste.

So you decided to walk over, with a bag full of various breads and muffins. Tomorrow you wanted to try and make a cake so you needed the counter space. It was only eight in the evening, might be a little too late in the evening with little ones, but you knocked on the door regardless. After a few moments, a man with tired bags and gorgeous long inky black hair clad in a black shirt and sweats opened the door and gazed down at you with those soft violet eyes that reminded you of ube, perhaps you’ll make ube mochi later this week. 

“Can I help you?” His velvet-smooth voice, like honey, slipped through a polite smile that seemed almost trained. A voice that left your cheeks dusting the faintest shade of pink. Your eyes seemed to want to look everywhere but at him as he raised a brow.

Were you taking too long to speak? Why won’t words come out?

“Hi, I’m your neighbor… I just moved in next door. I happened to have baked too much, and I was wondering if you would like to take some bread and muffins off my hands.” Your words came out slightly stuttered, perhaps a little too fast, a little too loud, but the message got across.

That polite, trained smile tilted down for a second until he gave a shrug.

Suguru watched you stutter over your words, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. For a non-sorcerer, your nervousness was endearing.

“I see…” Suguru leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms across his broad chest, and looked down at you for a moment longer than necessary before shifting his gaze to the pink bag in your hands.

“Well, thank you. I’m sure my girls will appreciate that,” he said, the sweet, polite smile crossing his lips again, making your heart skip a beat.

“Of course, I just happened to have baked a little too much… wait, your girls?” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could catch them. You figured this was like an older brother or an uncle, but the dad? This man in front of you looked around your age… there’s no way he could possibly have children. He looked like a recent college grad. Who are you to judge, though? You swiftly chastised yourself.

Suguru chuckled softly, a light, amused sound slipping past his lips as he noticed your surprise. It was clear that you were probably expecting the girls' father to be some middle-aged family man, not a twenty-something. Yet, he found your surprise endearing, enjoying the way your cheeks dusted pink and how you seemed entranced by his every word. He had that effect on people, after all.

“Yup. Two little girls. Twins, actually—Nanako and Mimiko. Quite the handful, but they’re both sweethearts. I’m sure you’ve heard them from time to time.” Suguru spoke with a soft smile on his face. He wouldn’t dare reveal that they were adopted to a stranger; he might as well have you assuming that they were his legitimate children.

“Ah, yeah, that must be a lot of work… well, if you ever need any baked goods… I’m next door, so… yeah… feel free to knock,” you spoke softly, mentally cursing yourself for being so awkward. You work with people every day, how was this any different? How could you be fumbling over yourself this much?

Suguru enjoyed the way you stumbled over your words, amused by your bout of shyness. The way you seemed so awkward was kind of cute… no. Suguru had to remind himself that he hates non-sorcerers, that they are the reason why curses exist. That… this neighbor bringing him a giant bag of baked goods could create a curse. Suguru reminded himself to be polite, to play the role.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’m sure the girls would love for you to spoil them with sweets,” he said, his voice smooth and polite. After that, he bid you goodnight. You bowed slightly before he closed the door and you entered your apartment. After shutting the door, you sank to the floor, leaning against it. Wanting to scream at yourself for being so awkward.

As you sat there, replaying the conversation in your head, you couldn't help but smile a little. Despite your awkwardness, he was kind. Maybe this could be the start of a nice neighborly relationship. You took a deep breath and stood up, deciding to focus on the positive. You had done a nice thing, and that was what mattered.

**** 

Meanwhile, in Suguru’s apartment, he debated what to do with the bag of baked goods. Should he throw them away? The three different flavors of bread, including a rosemary-scented loaf he presumed to be sourdough, made his stomach almost growl. The blueberry muffins looked a little too perfect, and the milk bread seemed as soft as a cloud. He should throw these away; the food was tainted by a non-sorcerer, after all.

Suguru debated for a few moments, finally deciding to just leave them on the counter. The twins would eat them anyway. At eight years old, they were both eating quite a bit. He was only slightly tempted to partake but decided to leave them there for the night.

It was currently nine in the evening as he made his way to his own bedroom. He double-checked to find both girls sleeping soundly in their room, leaving the door just a crack before heading to his own. As he lay in bed, he read through any documents that needed to be signed for the organization that his assistant had sent over.

As he sifted through the paperwork, his mind kept drifting back to you. Your awkwardness, your genuine offer of kindness—it was disarming. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had approached him so openly, without any hidden agenda. It was a refreshing, albeit confusing, change from the norm.

He shook his head, focusing back on the documents. Relationships with non-sorcerers were complicated, dangerous even. He had to maintain his distance. Yet, a small part of him couldn’t deny the curiosity about his new neighbor.

The next morning, Suguru woke early as usual. He prepared breakfast for the twins, trying to ignore the tantalizing smell of the baked goods still sitting on the counter. When Nanako and Mimiko finally shuffled into the kitchen, their eyes lit up at the sight of the muffins and bread.

“Geto-sama, did you make these?” Nanako asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

“No, our new neighbor did,” Suguru replied, watching their faces for any reaction.

“Can we try them?” Mimiko asked, already reaching for a muffin.

Suguru hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead.”

The girls eagerly took bites of the muffins, their faces lighting up with delight.

“These are so good!” Nanako exclaimed, her mouth full of muffin.

“Yeah! Can we meet the neighbor and thank them?” Mimiko added, looking up at Suguru with hopeful eyes.

Suguru smiled softly, their enthusiasm infectious. “Maybe later. For now, enjoy your breakfast.”

As he watched the twins happily munch on the baked goods, Suguru couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt. Perhaps he had been too quick to judge. Maybe, just maybe, not all non-sorcerers were the same. Or maybe, you were the one that was different from the rest of them. He pondered for a moment, what would you think of his lifestyle, would you be afraid of the blood on his hands, would you still look up at him with that awkward shy smile of yours?

Stray

Yan!Gojo x Reader

WC: 5.4K (My longest fic!)

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con Kiss (singular one), Mentions of stalking, obsession, your typical yandere behaviors. Manipulation.

Based off of this blurb: HERE

*******

Looking back, this was probably the biggest mistake of your life. Picking up a stray. Your mother’s voice echoed in your mind: “Don’t feed them, or they’ll keep crawling back.” She wasn’t just talking about animals-her words applied to monsters too, though you hadn’t realized that yet. 

It was a few months ago, on an unusually quiet Saturday, when you’d decided to do your laundry in the community room of your apartment complex. The air was thick with the faint scent of various detergents and the rhythmic thrum of the machines. The room was dimly lit, the sunlight from outside filtering in through small windows, casting long shadows on the tiled floor. You had expected to be alone, but instead there he was- a stranger standing in the middle of the room, looking every bit as out of place as a lost puppy. 

Or maybe more like a misplaced god. 

Tall, lean, and dressed in casual clothes that seemed haphazardly thrown together, he held a laundry basket so full it looked like it might burst at any moment. You hesitated as his attention turned toward you, the black lenses of his tinted glasses hiding his eyes, but not the way his lips quirked into an awkward, lopsided smile. 

“Uh sorry- am I blocking the open machines?” His voice was soft, almost too smooth for someone who looked so out of sorts. He shifted his weight, holding the basket like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “Here, it’s all yours.” 

You blinked, glancing from his awkward stance to the machines, then back to him. “Don’t you need to use them?” you asked, your voice quiet, but curious, as your gaze dropped to the absurdly full basket he was clutching, where you caught sight of something unexpectedly cute- soft pink boxers peeking out from the pile, printed with tiny dango. Adorable. 

The man let out a breath chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced away, his sheepish expression almost too genuine. “I’ll uh…I’ll just do it later,” he said, his voice lighter now, as if he was trying to downplay his obvious hesitation. 

Your eyes drifted from his face to the empty table in front of him, noticing there was no detergent in sight. 

“You sure you don’t need help?” Your tone coming out soft but teasing, knowing full well this beautiful man had no idea what he was doing. 

He froze, just for a second. The easygoing charm faltered, replaced by something more real. A sigh escaped his lips, almost resigned, and the barest hint of pink dusted his cheeks. His head tilted slightly away from you, as if hidinging his embarrassment, before he mumbled, “yeah.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Cute. 

So, you walked him through the steps, showing him how to use the last two remaining machines. You could’ve taken them for yourself, but instead, you let him have them. Maybe showing this man kindness was a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have helped him. Because who knew a single act of generosity would lead to this—an almost instinctual bond forming between you from this one interaction.

The process was… well, difficult to say the least. The conversation played out in fits and starts, with more awkward pauses than smooth exchanges. 

“Do you have 100 yen coins? The machines don’t take card,” you asked, your voice soft but practical, as you glanced up at him.

You noticed his smile falter for the briefest moment, as if the question caught him off guard. “No…” His reply was gentle, almost embarrassed, and his eyes widened slightly when you wordlessly handed him a few of your coins.

“Here, take them,” you said, pressing the cold coins into his hand. His fingers brushed yours, warm and hesitant. “There’s a coin machine in the lobby—make sure to use it next time.”

His response was silent, but telling. You caught the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks deepening, the warmth of your simple touch amplifying the effect. His smile, a little sheepish, stretched wider, as if this small kindness meant more to him than you could have known. He didn’t say anything else, simply nodding his head in quiet thanks, his expression soft, almost grateful.

It was hard to ignore the way his entire demeanor shifted—how something about him seemed lighter now, more attuned to you. Like your gesture had unlocked something inside him.

“I’m assuming you don’t have detergent either, do you?” you asked with a playful sigh, grabbing your own bottle before he could answer. “Use mine. I hope you don’t mind floral scents.”

You began pouring the sweet-scented soap into both machines, the fragrant aroma filling the room. You didn’t look up at him right away, too focused on the task at hand, but when you finally did, you found him watching you—not in a way that felt invasive, but with a quiet, contemplative gaze. His eyes, hidden behind his tinted glasses, seemed locked on you, like he was seeing something… special. Something only he could notice.

“No,” Satoru replied softly, his voice calm and almost reverent. “I don’t mind… at all.” There was something different in his tone—an almost affectionate undertone, like the scent would remind him of this exact moment, of you. His heart beat faster, though his outward appearance remained composed, as if trying to keep something at bay.

The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, and as it hit your face, you became haloed in light, your movements graceful in their simplicity. To him, it wasn’t just the detergent or the coins or the smile. It was you—the way you moved, the way you looked at him without judgment, the way your kindness seemed to come so naturally.

That’s what you were. Sunshine. A soft, warm light in a world that, for him, often felt cold and distant.

His chest tightened slightly, not in a suffocating way, but in a way that made him want to keep you in his orbit just a little longer. Maybe he didn’t know much about you—yet—but there was a pull, a gravity you had, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to resist it. Your small act of kindness had stuck with him, dug into his thoughts in a way he didn’t expect. Maybe it was the ease of it, how you didn’t even hesitate to help him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He found himself wanting more of that warmth, more of you.

“Next time, be better prepared,” you said lightly, your voice snapping him out of his thoughts. You offered him a small smile, playful but warm, as you closed the detergent bottle.

“Next time,” he repeated softly, savoring the way those words sounded—like a promise of more to come. His smile was gentle, almost too sweet for someone like him, but there was something else behind it too. You couldn’t quite put a finger on it. 

After you both finished with the laundry, you were about to give him a polite wave and go your separate ways. But as you turned to head back, Satoru didn’t just leave. Instead, he fell into step beside you with a light, almost bouncy stride, like there was nowhere else he wanted to be. His grin hadn’t faded, but there was something sharper about it now, a little too wide, a little too excited.

“What floor?” he asked, stepping into the elevator with an easy, practiced grace, like this was all a game he knew the rules to. His eyes—what you could see of them behind his tinted glasses—were trained on you, a flicker of curiosity sparking within them.

“Three, please,” you replied, adjusting your basket of clothes in your arms, not quite prepared for the way his expression lit up at your words.

“Oh, you’re kidding.” His voice came out soft, but there was an unmistakable note of giddiness underneath, a sort of delighted surprise that felt a touch too enthusiastic. “That’s my floor too.” His smile widened, a little too much, and he tilted his head as if waiting for the next punchline to land. “I’m in 301.”

You blinked, taking a moment to process before offering a polite smile. “I’m 302. You just moved in next door?”

For a second, he froze—his grin faltered, then returned twice as strong. A low, almost breathless chuckle escaped him, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck. Glasses sliding down slightly to reveal his bright blue eyes that sparkled with amusement. “Seriously? You’re that close? Right next door?”

He leaned back against the elevator wall, letting the revelation sink in, his gaze never leaving your face. It felt like he was studying you, absorbing every little detail—your expression, the way you shifted the basket, the exact moment your surprise faded into a more neutral reaction. His fingers tapped lightly against the side of his laundry basket, almost like he was containing his excitement.

“Well, isn’t that… something,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. The playful edge in his tone softened, replaced by something more thoughtful, more intent. “It’s almost like we were meant to run into each other today.”

His words hung in the air, the way he said them making your stomach flutter uneasily. He seemed more than pleased by the coincidence, and his smile—though outwardly harmless—felt like there was something deeper behind it, something intrigued and hooked.

The elevator doors opened, and he held the door for you, watching you with that same smile, now laced with quiet amusement. “After you, neighbor,” he said, his voice lighter, but still with that underlying edge of fascination. 

You stepped out, feeling the weight of his gaze follow you down the hall. As you reached your respective doors, Satoru lingered, standing a little too close, his eyes tracing the outline of your door—302—like he was mentally noting it down, cataloging every detail.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” he teased, but the playful tone was almost too sweet, too easy. There was something in his gaze—sharp, calculating beneath the teasing exterior—that made it hard to shake the feeling that he was watching you in a way that was more than neighborly.

“Lucky us, huh?” he added, his voice dipping slightly, as though he was tasting the words.

You offered a small, polite laugh, trying to keep the conversation light. “Yeah… I guess so.”

He stood there for a beat longer than necessary, as though he was savoring the moment. His grin, still plastered on his face, now looked like a cat’s—playful, but predatory, like he had just stumbled onto something unexpected and wonderful. Something he didn’t plan on letting go of any time soon.

“See you soon, 302,” he said softly, before finally turning to his own door. But even as he disappeared into his apartment, you could still feel the lingering intensity of his presence. 

Perhaps if you didn’t have such a need to help people, you wouldn’t have let him get too close.

But that’s what led to the next few weeks of constant, seemingly innocent requests from Satoru.

At first, it was small things. Harmless, right?

“Hey, did you accidentally get my package?” he asked, showing up at your door one morning with that same disarming grin. His glasses were perched on his nose, eyes sparkling with an almost childlike glint. You hadn’t, of course. You always kept an eye out for your own deliveries, but it was an easy mistake. The first time, anyway. It happened again a few days later. Then again. And each time, his grin seemed just a little brighter, as if this routine delighted him more than it should.

You began to wonder how much stuff he was ordering. Or if he was ordering anything at all.

Next came the plant.

“I’m out of town for the next few days,” he mentioned casually, leaning against your doorframe one evening. His posture was relaxed, but his presence was hard to ignore. The tinted glasses were gone this time, leaving you to face those brilliant blue eyes directly. They sparkled, drawing you in without effort. In his hands, he held the saddest little pot you’d ever seen—some limp, half-dead thing that looked like it needed a funeral rather than a caretaker. “Can you take care of this fella for me? Just water it a bit…dunno maybe talk to it? Plants like that, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the pitiful plant. “This thing’s already half-dead.”

His grin widened, a soft chuckle slipping from his lips. “Yeah, well, if anyone can bring it back, it’s you. Sunshine.” He winked, his tone playful, but his gaze held you for just a moment too long. His words felt like more than a compliment, like he was testing you, seeing just how far you’d go for him. Just how close would you let him get? And somehow, you found yourself agreeing, even though you knew it was a lost cause. 

Then came the bento boxes.

“Oh!” he exclaimed one morning, catching you just as you were heading out for work. His eyes landed on the small lunchbox in your hand, wrapped neatly in a blue cloth with a white bunny pattern. “You make your own bento boxes? That’s adorable.” His grin was almost teasing, his tone light, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. “Can you make one for me, too?”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “I… what?”

“I’ll pay for the groceries,” he added quickly, as if that would fix the oddness of the request. “Actually, here—take my card.” Without hesitation, he pulled out his wallet and pressed a black card into your hand. His fingers brushed yours, lingering just a little too long, and his eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “Buy whatever you need. Go crazy.”

You stared at the card, unsure of what to say. “Gojo-sama, I really can’t—”

“Satoru,” he corrected smoothly, his smile never faltering. “No need for the formalities.”

You hesitated, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks. You couldn’t just call him by his first name, right? You couldn’t just make lunch for him like you were… some kind of housewife, could you?

“Oh, sure you can!” His energy was relentless, sweeping over your hesitation like it didn’t exist. “Come on, it’s no big deal. You’re already making one for yourself, right? What’s one more?”

His voice was as light as always, the teasing playful, but underneath it was something that made you uneasy. He had inserted himself into your life so effortlessly, so quickly, that you barely had time to question it. Each favor seemed so small, so trivial—until they weren’t. Each one drew him closer, inch by inch, as if he was weaving himself into the fabric of your routine.

And the worst part? He made it all seem so casual, like he was just being a friendly neighbor. You could almost convince yourself that’s all it was. Almost.

So, bento boxes became part of your daily routine—unless, of course, Satoru told you he’d be out of town. Wouldn’t want good food to go to waste, right? You always carefully prepared them, even going as far as to cut a few vegetables into cute shapes: stars, flowers, little moons. But never hearts. You remembered him teasing you about that once, saying hearts were his favorite shape, followed by a playful wink. You’d laughed it off at the time, assuming it was just his usual charm, the same charm he probably used on the girls who left phone numbers scrawled on his palm. He had to have someone else in his life—a supermodel, perhaps, given how effortlessly handsome he was.

Yet... he never seemed happy about it. If anything, he seemed lonely. Whenever you talked, it felt like he craved more than just the conversation. It was in the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his entire body seemed to lean closer, like he needed something deeper, something that went beyond friendly banter or casual encounters. 

And maybe that’s why you found yourself worried when he would disappear for days, even a week at a time. You tried to brush it off as his job—probably some business trip or other—but it gnawed at you, that feeling of absence. When he came back, though, he always brought something with him, some small trinket, a souvenir, like he needed to remind you of him even when he wasn’t around.

This time, it was a teddy bear. Soft, plush, with a bright "I ♥ Kyoto" shirt. You smiled when he handed it to you, though the way the bear’s eyes gleamed under the light made you feel uneasy for just a second—like they were watching. You tried to shake off the odd feeling. The gesture was sweet, after all. Satoru always put in effort, even if his gifts were sometimes... peculiar.

After the bear came the snack. A box of mochi, wrapped in temple paper, fresh from his trip. "Got these at a temple," he said casually, offering them to you with that charming smile. "They’re best before they get stale."

“You went all the way to Kyoto? For just a couple of days?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “That must’ve been expensive... What do you do exactly?” 

His laughter was quick, soft, as if your question amused him. “Oh, nothing too exciting. Just work.” He waved a hand dismissively, his tone light and playful, but still vague. Always vague. 

You were used to it by now, his avoidance of direct answers. The more you asked, the less you felt like you actually knew about him. It made him seem almost too mysterious, in a way that kept you intrigued but also wary. Was he hiding something, or was he just playing around?

For a brief moment, you wondered if he could be involved in something shady. Maybe the Yakuza? But then you laughed at the thought. Satoru? Yakuza? He could barely keep a plant alive, much less run some underground empire. And besides, with his teasing and carefree attitude, he probably couldn’t harm a fly.

Still, the mystery lingered around him like a fog you couldn’t quite see through. Every time he dodged your questions with that casual grin, you felt like there was something you were missing, a deeper part of him just out of reach. 

And as you set the teddy bear on your bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it, or perhaps he, was watching you. Waiting.

The next morning, you stood in front of Satoru’s door, barely awake, a small yawn escaping your lips as you lightly tapped on the doorframe. In your hands, you held his bento box, neatly wrapped in a blue fabric that almost perfectly matched the color of his eyes. You’d stayed up late preparing it, cutting the veggies into stars just the way you knew he liked. It had become part of your routine by now, but despite the growing sense of familiarity, something still felt... off. You couldn't quite put your finger on it.

The door swung open, revealing Satoru dressed in a dark blue uniform, his trademark blindfold wrapped tightly around his eyes. You’d seen him like this a few times before—though you never quite understood why he wore it. But then again, you never asked. You were certain he’d just brush it off with that same playful smile, teasing you without ever giving you a real answer. Still, sometimes the curiosity gnawed at you.

“I can already tell it’s going to be amazing,” Satoru said, his voice smooth and chipper as always, his lips curling into a smile. “Curry buns, right? You spoil me, Sunshine.”

When he reached for the bento, his hand brushed yours, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. His touch was warm, and it sent a subtle, unsettling tingle up your arm. You couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or just another one of his casual gestures, but the weight of his gaze—despite the blindfold—felt heavy.

“Oh?” His tone shifted slightly, almost as if he’d been waiting for the moment. “Do you mind if I use your phone really quick? I need to call my driver for work. My phone’s updating, and it’s taking forever... Did yours get that new update last night?”

You blinked, slightly confused. “Update? Uh, maybe... I don’t remember?” You handed him your phone without thinking too much of it. His smile widened as he took it from you, his fingers brushing yours again, lingering in that same, deliberate way.

He quickly dialed a number, bringing the phone to his ear while falling into step beside you. His stride matched yours perfectly, like it was second nature to him. As you both walked toward the elevator, you found yourself glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Satoru seemed perfectly relaxed, almost too relaxed, as if walking alongside you like this was just another part of his day. But something about the situation gnawed at the back of your mind. Had there really been an update? You couldn’t remember seeing any notifications about it.

Satoru spoke briefly into the phone, his voice low and calm. You couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but the way he effortlessly integrated himself into your space, always so close, always so present—it was starting to feel a little too comfortable for your liking. He handed your phone back with a casual smile as the elevator doors opened.

“Thanks, Sunshine,” he said, slipping his hand into his pocket. “You’re always saving me.” His tone was light, playful, but the way he said it, the way he always seemed to need you—whether for small favors or something more—it left a lingering unease you couldn’t quite shake. 

“Do you need a ride?” Satoru asked, glancing over at you with that lazy grin that always made you feel a little warmer inside. “You work at that finance building next to the Lawson, right? My friend Nanami used to work there. Said the bosses are real assholes, but I heard they just got bought out?”

You paused, taken aback for a moment. How did he know where you worked? Maybe he’d seen your badge when you came home late or noticed it while you were passing by his door. You decided not to dwell on it, chalking it up to coincidence. 

You shrugged, forcing a smile. “A ride? Hm... I don’t really mind taking the train. It’s refreshing, you know?” As you glanced down at your phone to check a quick email, you noticed a new app on your home screen. Was there an update last night? You had no recollection of it, but you pushed the thought away.

“I insist! My driver, Ijichi, won’t mind at all,” he urged, his tone bright and teasing. “Plus, it’s on the way to a meeting I need to be at. And speaking of which—how about dinner tonight? I actually used that coupon book you gave me.” He chuckled lightly, adding, “Not that I really need to save money, but it’s fun to try!”

Your heart fluttered at the thought, but you quickly shook your head. “Dinner? Oh, I don’t know, Satoru. I just got this new role at work, and I might have to stay late tonight.”

His grin wavered for just a heartbeat, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. “Is that so? Surely you can get the night off for just one night. I mean, you work so hard cooking for me every night…” His voice took on a slightly softer tone, almost pleading. “Or maybe if it’s easier, could I start eating dinner with you?”

His eyes sparkled with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, but you brushed it off. He was just being friendly, right? Satoru had always been a bit too eager to be around you, but you never thought much of it. You laughed, trying to lighten the moment. “I don’t know if I can handle cooking for two! You’re a big guy; I’d probably run out of food.”

Satoru leaned closer, his expression playful yet somehow serious, as if he were weighing your response. “Come on, I promise I won’t eat you out of house and home. Besides, it would be nice to have someone to share dinner with. I mean, I already take so much from you—like your delicious bentos.” His grin widened, but you could sense something else lurking behind his playful demeanor. 

You shrugged, trying to keep things light. “Well, if you’re really going to be that much trouble, I guess I can let you join me for dinner now and then.” 

“Great! I can’t wait,” he said, the eagerness in his voice almost unsettling. It felt like he was a bit too excited about it, and while it made you smile, there was an undercurrent of intensity that left you feeling a bit unsure. But then, you brushed it aside. Satoru was just a quirky guy who liked to joke around; he didn’t mean anything by it, right?

Once a night quickly led to every night—if he didn’t have to work late. You often wondered when this guy ever found the time to sleep. Yet, you found it oddly comforting to have him around, even if he was a little too clingy. 

Each time he came over to your apartment, Satoru would fidget with your knickknacks, touching the stuffed animals that cluttered your couch and playfully harassing the plants on your windowsill. It felt innocent enough at first, but with every touch, you noticed how he seemed to absorb every detail of your space, like a sponge soaking in your essence. 

You often caught him stealing glances at your photos, his eyes narrowing in concentration as if he were dissecting each moment. “Did you really travel there? It looks fun,” he’d remark, his tone light yet laced with something deeper—an interest that made your stomach flutter, but not entirely in a good way. 

It started to feel odd, though—how did he know precisely what time you would be home? More importantly, how did he seem to always be waiting just outside your door, a lovestruck grin plastered across his face, as if he had been standing there for ages, anticipating your arrival? You brushed it off, convincing yourself it was merely a coincidence, but the uneasy feeling lingered, nestled in the back of your mind.

Daily rides to work became the norm, and sometimes after work, he’d bring over wine—something fancy you would chastise him for, telling him he needed to save money. But he always waved off your concerns with a teasing grin, “What’s money when I have you?” He’d chuckle, leaning a little too close, and you’d laugh it off, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze.

Tonight was no different; the two of you were nestled on the couch, leaning in closer than usual, wine glasses in hand. Something felt off, yet you couldn’t pinpoint it as your vision began to swirl. 

“I think I should call it a night,” you murmured softly, attempting to get up. Just as you started to rise, Satoru’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you back against him. “Here, wait for the spins to go away. Just use me as support,” he said, his voice smooth like silk. 

As you leaned against him, you couldn’t help but notice how solid he felt—his rock-hard chest seemed broader than before, radiating warmth that enveloped you. His smile was chilling, like the night sky, yet there was something darker lurking behind it. The conversations you shared flowed easily, but the intimacy felt different, tinged with a strange urgency that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons. 

You tried to shake off the unease creeping in, but each time you brushed your fingers against the wine glass, it felt like he was watching you—really watching you, as if he could see straight through you. Was he? 

You began to notice things shifting in your apartment. A new decorative item here, a small plant there. At first, you attributed it to your own absent-mindedness, but the more you looked around, the more it felt like he was leaving pieces of himself behind, integrating into your life in a way that felt oddly possessive. 

When you glanced over at him, his eyes gleamed with that familiar spark, but it was mixed with something else—an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “You know, sunshine,” he started, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I just want to make sure you’re safe. I care about you, you know?” 

You chuckled nervously, attempting to lighten the mood. “I can take care of myself, Satoru.” 

But the way he tilted his head, that playful smile transforming into something more fervent, made your heart race in a different way. “I know you can, but wouldn’t it be better if I helped? We could make a great team.” 

You felt the weight of his gaze on you, an unwavering focus that made your skin prickle. “Yeah… a team,” you repeated, but the word felt heavy on your tongue. 

“Let’s keep looking out for each other, alright?” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. 

And as the shadows of the room flickered with the light of the TV, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was already doing just that—watching over you, waiting for the right moment to take the next step.  

You were caught in his web, and every part of you warned that getting closer could lead to something dangerously intoxicating, but you couldn’t seem to pull away. Not like he’d let you either.

The world seemed to sway a bit more. Satoru's fingers deftly grabbed the wine glass from your hand and set it on the table, his movements fluid and deliberate, as if choreographed. 

“You know, Sunshine,” he cooed softly, his voice a low murmur that seemed to vibrate in the air between you, “the world is a really dangerous place. There are monsters out there… really scary ones.” His gaze locked onto yours, and you felt your heart thud erratically in your chest, panic blooming in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t move. Why couldn’t you move?

Satoru leaned closer, the space between you charged with an unsettling energy. “You’re so lucky that I just… that I just need you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re the only light I need.” 

The intensity in his eyes deepened, and a chill ran down your spine as he continued, “You see, I let someone else leave me. I just can’t do that to you. Let you leave. Let you get hurt.” His lips curled into a soft chuckle, but it sounded dark, echoing with something sinister. “You’re kind of weak, you know?”

Your breath hitched at the weight of his words. “My best friend told me to always protect the weak... so I’m going to protect you for now, okay? We’re going to be a happy little family.” The way he said it felt like a promise and a threat, all wrapped in one.

Your eyes widened when you felt him tilt your chin up, forcing you to look directly into his lovesick gaze. His pupils were blown wide, and that wide smile on his lips sent a wave of dread crashing over you. 

“Sunshine…thank you for lighting up my world. Letting me see how kind the world can be,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice twisted with an almost manic glee. And before you could react, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours with a fervor that knocked the breath out of you. The kiss was wet, sloppy, as if he had never kissed anyone before. He chased your lips with such fervor as if he was scared to lose you. This wasn’t just a kiss; as his hands held you closer, enveloping you within his warmth, this was a claim. A proclamation that he wasn’t going to let you go. His passion felt overwhelming, consuming, and you realized with a sinking heart that it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. 

Your mother’s words rang in your mind, sharp and clear: “Never feed a stray; they’ll never leave.” 

Home

Description: SatoSugu x Reader Fluff, there's not enough out there! I was just kind of observing the sunrise this morning on run and this was brain rotting my noggin since this morning.

WC: 800 (short little blurb)

TW: Angst if you squint?

There's something about slow, cozy Sunday mornings that settled something deep inside Satoru, a quiet warmth that even his boundless energy couldn’t disturb. The soft hum of life happening around him filled the apartment, grounding him in a peace he hadn’t known he needed.

The comforting scent of cinnamon and pumpkin danced in the air, the sweet smell of bear-shaped cookies baking in the oven blending with the slight chill of autumn in Tokyo. Sunlight crept through the windows, bathing the room in a golden hue, the light catching on the glossy hardwood floors and making everything feel softer like time had slowed down to match the rhythm of this domestic, lazy morning.

From his spot on the couch, where both you and Suguru believed he was napping, Satoru peeked over the cushions. His heart warmed at the sight of the two of you going about your routines, so ordinary and yet so precious. The soft rhythm of your knife against the cutting board as you prepped vegetables for the bento boxes filled the room. Was it katsu today, with a crisp side salad? It didn’t matter. Everything you made had a warmth and care that turned it into the best meal of his life. A far cry from the rushed nights when he used to dash down to Family Mart for a quick bite—alone.

Suguru sat at the kitchen bar, his brow furrowed in concentration as he graded the first years' mission logs, occasionally muttering something under his breath about how terrible some of them were. Yet despite his focus, Suguru would look up to chat with you, his voice soft and familiar, laced with the kind of affection that had been reserved for both you and Satoru. And you—your movements were a dance as you moved around the kitchen, your feet bouncing lightly with every step, preparing everything for the day. He couldn't ask for more in this little life.

Satoru's gaze moved to Suguru’s hand as he reached out to take the spoon you offered, that familiar smile already tugging at the corner of Suguru’s lips. It was a small, intimate exchange, one that Satoru had seen countless times but never tired of. The way Suguru’s violet eyes softened as he tasted the katsu sauce you’d just made, the satisfied groan escaping his lips, his wedding band glinting in the sunlight—it was a moment so filled with warmth that it was hard for Satoru to look away.

“It keeps getting more and more amazing every time,” Suguru said softly, his voice velvety smooth, dripping with love as he met your gaze. There was a quiet reverence in the way he spoke to you, as though he were marveling at something sacred. And you—you giggled in response, that lovely blush painting your cheeks, your happiness almost tangible in the way you beamed at him.

Satoru couldn’t resist any longer. He pushed himself off the couch, a playful grin tugging at his lips as he approached. “Hey, hey! Don’t hog all the good stuff,” he teased, opening his mouth wide, his expectant gaze fixed on you. Those bright blue eyes of his glittering with amusement. The laughter that followed as you fed him a spoonful of sauce was light, airy, like the sweetest melody.

As the rich flavor of the sauce hit his tongue, Satoru's eyes widened with exaggerated delight. “This is the best thing in the world!” he chimed with a teasing grin.

Before you could react, Satoru swept you up in his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as your toes barely grazed the floor. The room filled with your laughter as he peppered your face with light kisses, his affection overflowing in small bursts of joy. You never pushed him away. You never pushed either of them away. Instead, you embraced their love, their mess, their flaws and hardships—all of it. You embraced them completely, wholeheartedly, just as you always had.

Because that was who you were—a warm, ray of light, a gift that neither of them felt they deserved but both of them cherished more than anything.

Satoru pressed his face into the crook of your neck for a moment, his voice softening as the weight of everything sank in. This—the three of you, together in this, sunlit kitchen—was all he had ever wanted. No amount of power, no grand estates or gardens of the Gojo clan could compare to this. Home wasn’t a place. It wasn’t the apartment, or the food, or even the lazy Sunday morning routines.

Home was the way you and Suguru looked at him, with warmth, with love, with acceptance. It was the way you and Suguru treated him—like he was more than just Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer. You looked at him with something he couldn’t find anywhere else, something that made this place feel less like a temporary refuge and more like… home.