Leo And A Daughter Of Mars Who Met Completely By Accident. The War Was Finally Over And Leo Wanted To

leo and a daughter of mars who met completely by accident. the war was finally over and leo wanted to see what new rome had to offer - maybe it’d be a suitable place for him to live someday? who knows, he’s always yearned for discovery (truly his father’s son). he somehow managed to accidentally break her weapon, ruining her day. luckily he’s a child of hephaestus (she doesn’t care) and makes weapons all the time (they’ll never be as good as roman weapons) and would be more than willing to make her an even better one (as if he has an option?). he tells her it’ll take a couple days so she begrudgingly finds him a place to stay because she refuses to let him out of her sight until she gets her new weapon. without a weapon, her training time gets cut in half, so when she has nothing to do she goes to check on leo. at first she’d just do it to make sure he wasn’t taking advantage of her hospitality and actually making it, but soon enough she found herself enjoying his company. to her, he was a breath of fresh air. he told her about life at camp half blood and all the quests he’s been on and when he made her laugh for the first time (telling her about how he accidentally set his pants on fire while he was half asleep once) he knew he was a goner. he’d make her millions of weapons if it meant he’d get to see her smile like that every day

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔... chuckles at the way you're so shy after sex.

you were always like this after making love. he didn't really understand why, but it was like a switch was flipped. you said the nastiest things in bed, your love making filled with passionate pants and trembling bodies pressed together in a sea of bedsheets, but after finishing, you curled away— shy of him again.

perhaps it was the fact you were feeling the flush after the intimacy or maybe you realized just how lewd it all was... either way, you sit on the left side of the bed, head in hands as you mutter quiet little words.

"i can't believe i said that..."

"what was that?" your boyfriend hums, shifting in the sheets as he scoots himself closer to you.

he lays on the bed on his stomach, strong body sculpted in a way that is nothing less than handsome. the manifestation of masculinity, your lover lays there contentedly. gojo feels warm, body beaming like a ray of sunlight.

"i can't believe i said that," you mutter. "i can't believe i wanted you to call me that."

gojo laughs, loud and cheerful noise erupts from the steady of his chest. the melody is smooth, flowing from lips you've kissed a hundred times.

"you embarrassed?" he lets out a chortle. "baby, couples have sex. that's a part of the relationship."

your lover gently wraps a hand around your wrist, pulling your hand off of your pretty face. he knows you're embarrassed, he can read your emotions in your eyes.

"okay, i know couples have sex, but i can't believe we—"

"had sex?"

"yes!"

"as a couple?"

a pillow hits his face.

that was a yes in his book.

gojo laughs again. he truly doesn't understand your distress. you're embarrassed you had sex with him... or rather you were embarrassed of how you were when you were intimate. he pulls your hand towards his face, kissing the tips of your fingers.

"well, for one, i had a great time." he smiles against the very faint fingerprint dips that ghost your skin.

"did you now?" you taunt, and he chuckles. you're taunting him, and he knows— gojo can hear it in your voice.

"i did." he scoots closer, placing his head on your bare lap. "how long as it been since we've done that? almost two weeks now surely."

"yeah," you giggle quietly and his ears perk up immediately at the familiar sound. "i feel like i always forget how to even start..."

"i don't."

"perv."

"that doesn't make me a pervert," the man chuckles. "and, you are so attracted to me. don't lie about it."

"am not." you tut, and he laughs.

"really? because what was all of that moaning and groaning earlier? when i had you flipped on your stomach and—" gojo begins, cut off when another pillow meets his face and shuts him up.

that's how he knows you're back to normal when you're able to throw back a quip, lip curling into an annoyed pout at the man you loved.

"okay, enough. i'm not shy anymore."

"really? okay, let's go another round."

© YUNYMPHS 2023 modifications, reposts, and translations of any kind are strictly prohibited.

omfg. this is SO GOOD i love it sm

xxv. usu

(note - set 2 weeks after previous chapter)

“Oh, Romeo! My handsome saviour, oh, save me!” Utahime drawled, dramatically falling onto Shoko's arms. “Juliet,” the brunette flashed an uncharacteristic cheeky grin which had Suguru snorting, “oh, Juliet, my love. I will come save you in my white horse that is as beautiful as your dog shit—”

And immediately, Utahime grimaced, pulling away from the brunette’s arms, “yeah, no.”

“Yeah,” Shoko agreed, face dropping onto their usual muscles. You and Gojo shared a brief glare before you spoke, “that's not even how the scene worked.”

“Yeah, also the main characters’ names aren't Romeo and Juliet,” Gojo thoughtfully adds. Suguru, still glued to his script, responded with a casual, "that's all the way back in grade 9th too."

“Gee, it's not my fault both of you act like you aren't married. Isn't physical intimacy normal in relationships?”

“As if you know shit about relationships,” Suguru whispered over to a snickering Gojo in which Shoko flipped them off in response.

Presently, it's been a total of five hours of incessant practising that one scene that had both you and Gojo pressed towards each other. It's supposed to come as natural as possible considering that the main characters were relaxed when it came to each other's embrace. Which.. was the total opposite of what was going on with you and Gojo.

A sigh spilled from your lips, mind absolutely blank.

2:37pm. Roughly three hours left before this practice ends and you've barely rehearsed the sheets that you've almost gotten sick over sleepless nights. Because a certain director wanted us to practice on physical fucking intimacy.

Brows furrowing, you dug deeper onto your mind for ideas, completely oblivious to the keen blue that was staring onto your form.And eventually, you are snapped away from your thoughts with a flick of someone's fingers. Which you recognize as Gojo’s with how pale two fingers can be.

“Don't use your head too much, you might run out of brain juice.”

As you were about to retort, he childishly flicked your forehead. And you sit there, dumbfounded as annoyance bubbled in your throat. “Gojo, you—”

“Toru."

You blinked, confused, “what?”

This time, his shit-eating smirk is now replaced with an annoyingly dramatic pout, “Toru. I said to call me Toru. You called me Gojo earlier too but I didn't say anything because—”

Seriously. A vein was very nearly popping on your temple when Shoko deliberately whistled a tad bit louder in the distance, “okay, okay!"

“Okay? Call me Toru.”

Staring at him dumbfoundedly with still a frown, you mindlessly muttered in a daze of ire, “Toru. Yeah, there it is. Are you happy now, Toru?”

His name feels foreign on your tongue. And yet, surprisingly, it doesn't.. feel unnecessarily unwelcomed. That, alone, makes you feel things. You don't like it.

A small smile creeps its way onto his face before he's roughly ruffling your hair, “alright then. how about we compete on whoever gets the most compliments from the director?"

Deeming your narrowed eyes and pursed lips as interest (in some way, he guesses), he swiftly adds with a wink, "whoever wins will treat the other that sushi discount three blocks down from here."

Your eyes finally lit up and a smug smile made its way into your countenance, prior fury forgotten as you stood up from the lounge chair and made your way to the crowd garnering at the front, “fine, you wash the dishes if I win.”

“What!? That's not fair!” Gojo followed in tow just beside you with a pout.

“Too bad it is.”

“It's so not.”

“It is!”

“It's so, definitely and absolutely, not!”

--

The setting sun painted the whole scenery a golden glow as you snaked your arm around Gojo's neck with a gleeful smile, "mhm. you were amazing back there, you know?" His hand on your waist twitched, a faint action that had you wondering if it was from your imagination before you're pulled away from your thoughts.

The taller man responded with a soft smile, akin to his character, "you're exaggerating, dear."

You hurriedly scrolled through the vivid mental script onto your mind before spotting the one line after Gojo's cheesy one, "but you were amazing, no?" Grasping your left wrist from behind his neck, you slowly leaned in to his face as bile rised up your throat and your mind blaring a red light signalling you to abort! abort! abort!

Then the director makes a booming, "cut!" that you roughly shove Gojo away from you with a scrunched expression, "oh my god. what the fuck." The bile is still stuck in your throat and you attempt to swallow it down which successfully works.

The taller man shooted you a look of betrayal and annoyance as he stood back up. Feeling a bit sorry, you offer him a small apologetic smile in return.

"That was awesome, [Name]. Definitely how I imagined it," you beam up at the director with a wide grin, "thank you!"

And so you turn to Gojo with a triumphant smirk, "I win."

He clicks his tounge, crossing his arms as he looks away, "whatever."

Haibara and Utahime immediately tackled you in a crushing hug, bombarding you with countless praises of, "oh my god, you were literally about to kiss him!" or "that's amazing, i would have barfed!" or "you were about to strangle him earlier too!"

All of which you could only respond to a sheepish thanks.

The rehearsal then ends with a navy blue painting the canvas that is the sky and you end up conversing with Shoko as the rest left to their own duties.

"You did great, you know?" Shoko smiles around her can of Sprite. You huffed, "of course! who do you think I am?"

"A dumbheaded idiot who almost burnt down her apartment at the age of 21."

Shooting her a glare, you rolled your eyes, "that was uncalled for."

The brunette chuckled, "what can I say? I'm unpredictable."

"Right."

The two of you slip in comfortable silence as the sloshing of her soda was the only audible sound amidst the ringing crickets. And as she turns to you, she asks, "how are things with.. your new house?"

You meet her eyes, "my house?"

"Yeah." and you look down on the table, unsure of what to say.

It's.. tolerable, if you were to be frank. Sure, he always wakes you up with annoying, endless beeps of the microwave or he always disrupts your concentration with his horrible voice echoing in the halls at fucking 6:27am in the damn morning.

However, he's not as bad as you thought he was going to be.

So you respond to her as casually as you can, "it's not bad."

She simply nods, as if she understood that there was more to that single sentence (which was definitely none. she's overthinking it.)

Then still in thoughts, you inadvertently murmur, "he's comfortable to be with, i guess.." And Shoko turns to you with slight surprise and mirth on her face, "oho?"

Thinking her low voice as one of your own in your mind, you continue, "somehow, i feel more at ease when i'm with him. i think he's just annoying whatever negativity i have in me whenever he picks a fight with me."

And finally, you shrugged out of your stupor before meeting her bewildered expression, "what?" she simply chuckled as she slurped her soda from the straw, "do you like him?"

There's an unreadable glint in her eyes when she asks the question. And you, being exhausted down to the bone, don't register her query for a few minutes until it finally sinks into you and you sputter with the most appalled face you can muster, "ex–fucking–cuse me?"

"Okay, now you're overreacting—"

"—No, Shoko. That's absolutely horrid. How could you ask me that?"

"Okay. Sorry. My bad, el oh el," she laughed despite your horrified face.

And before you get to calm down and ask her why would you even ask me that, she opens her mouth and waves her can of Sprite as if to dismiss the prior topic, "by the way, have your mother messaged you about you moving in with Gojo?" You flashed a brief glance to your phone propped on the table, "no."

The brunette blinked, "that's.. surprising."

"I'm sure.. at this point, she doesn't care about him anymore."

'So what was the point in all of this then? You could've chosen to be with another man instead of him,' a voice within you whispered, the sound low and deep.

Noticing your sullen slouch, she immediately switches gears and smile, "it's fine. atleast you have a candidate now, right? it would've been troublesome to meet someone new and you know, basic meeting shit. I know you hate that stuff."

A smile forms on your lips as you kept your gaze on the table, "yeah, you're right."

The chair creaks at how she suddenly stands up with a sigh, "wanna smoke?" To which you respond with an eyeroll but a fond smile remained on your face regardless.

--

Hours later when stars cover the inky sky in dots and you're in the car with the driver Gojo insisted in driving you home, the inane question invades your mind once again.

You reeled back into your memories, noting the obscure emotion sparking in Shoko's hazel eyes when she asked that question. There was always something about Shoko's voice that impressively remained stable no matter the situation and yet, the only flaw that tainted her impeccable acting was her eyes.

There was something sparking when she asked the question and you don't know what it was. But one thing was certain. It mattered to her when she asked the question.

So, naturally, you came up with the notion that—

Does Gojo like you?

Needles pricked at your skin uncomfortably so at the notion. Yet you persisted, anyways.

'If Gojo did like me then.. is that why him flirting with me online came easier?'

Then, you remembered a model student, from your class years ago, babbling with sobs about how he's always, always cheeky and flirty with anyone. Then, you also remember the amount of times he made you cry, intentionally or not. Then, you also remember the times you swore to hate him down to your last breath.

And, right.

Do you like him?

And your mind reels back into the hazy image of him holding your waist comfortably as you pulled him closer with your arms on his neck. Your mind reels back to when you found the golden band proudly wrapped on his fourth finger just like how his hand was on your waist. And—

No. You don't.

It's the only correct answer. Just like how 1+1 would be 2 and how the earth isn't a perfect circle. It simply is a fact.

You don't like him. And that, that is something that would not change even if you're stuck with him for a year.

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previous episode - next episode.

───〃★Chained Ardency masterlist

Synopsis: You, one of the most notable actresses of all time, have been bothered once again by your despicable mother to inherit the company via marriage. Though, it's nothing to worry about. After all, you've procrastinated on that for three years, so what's the difference this time? Oh, how wrong you were. Everything. Down from your career to your friends. So entirely out of spite and anger, you decide to marry the man whom your entire household carries an unexplainable hatred for.

Taglist (CLOSED): @catobsessedlady , @ploomyyyae, @xiaomypookiemouchiepie , @akagism2 , @roscpctals99, @aggressivelyaffectionate , @azure-op , @wonwuz , @stinkinstuffie , @itzmeme , @odessamoari , @minzxec , @latte-matcha , @janedukiesworld , @sakui1 , @iaminyourfloors , @lightshowerrr , @mochuchi , @overthebox , @woahguy278 , @bellsoftheball , @h3xi2g0n3 , @ladyaaliy , @reagan707 , @theinsanebish , @rinitoshisgirl , @colortheoryrocks , @tenshiroko , @kodzuminx , @corvid007 , @dreamxiing , @coolgirl458 , @poopooindamouf , @lemonnotade , @hellomeow12 , @crankyarchives , @lollygagger-s , @satoryaa , @alrightoliva , @kamikokii , @r0ckst4rjk , @itzjuliana , @skielshin , @k4sss133 , @shadowheads-shitshow , @xoxooffical , @cvr2mya , @letsmyy , @spiderlily-w1tch-blog , @caileysdead

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Authors' Notes - i got hit by my yearly sick ritual just three days ago and then i was burnt out for a full day after i recovered and now im back with motivation to write my most detested person a gay fic of him and this one guy he hated for being queer

P.S - taglists are now closed!

(ask to be added or removed)

THE LAKES ! ; gojo satoru > gojo is even more irritating at 2 in the morning.

this whole thing might be a little more romantic if it wasn't so early.

being awoken while the moon still hung heavy and full like ripe fruit in the vineyard sky was not your idealised morning. you'd been enjoying lovely, lovely dreams tucked into the sheets of your dorm room, spending the summer night alone with yourself and your music and your mind. and it was great, lovely even. until you were awoken by an incessant noise- a voice, clear and familiar and really damn loud in the quiet of the night.

"hello? don't tell me you're asleep right now. helloooo?"

you groan and shove your face further into the plush pillow. maybe if you pretended you didn't hear him, he'd go away. but the knocking continued. and then he started calling your name.

"come on," gojo groaned from the other side of the door, "we can't waste a perfectly good night just sitting around. don't be boring!"

you threw the pillow at the door and it resonated with a dull thump as you dug the cold heels of your palms against your eyelids. "go away satoru. i want to sleep, please."

"babe. sleeping is so lame," he speaks as if it's a matter of fact, and the way he sounds less than tired despite the hour is infinitely grating. you'd be pissed if you weren't so exhausted. "leave or else."

"i'm bored though."

"how is that my problem?"

"because i'm your boyfriend and you love me?"

"only one of those things is true." you shift up so you're sitting in your bed as you stretch, hearing your neck pop and wincing at the noise. "why don't you go bother the others and leave me alone?"

"why would i wake up geto or shoko when i could wake up you?"

stiffly, slowly, you stand, bare feet thudding heavily as you practically drag yourself to the sliding door of your dorm room, pulling it open to reveal none other than the gojo satoru- your fellow 2nd-year, boyfriend, and the absolute bane of your existence. he looks just as stupid and delighted to see you as he does every day, and you hate him because suddenly you're not tired at all. you keep up the act as you cross your arms over your chest and huff, "what do you want?"

gojo grins and you burn hot as his gaze flickers over you, obvious even despite his stupid sunglasses indoors in the middle of the night. "let's go to the lake."

"the lake? are you insane?"

"no. let's go."

"i'm going back to bed." you move to slide the door in his face, and he deftly catches it, keeping it still. your eyes are drawn to the clothes he's wearing- a plain black t-shirt that rides up with his arm raised, revealing slivers of ivory skin that peek through. your mouth dries. gojo notices.

"if i take my shirt off will you be more inclined to come with me?"

"i'm gonna kill you, satoru."

he laughs and your heart melts in your chest, as you comply all too quickly when he reaches for your hand. "we're going swimming anyways, right? we can like, skinny-dip, or something."

you snatch your hand away. "oh, no. nope. we're over."

he practically giggles, and you dissolve as the sound engrains itself into your memory. you wouldn't mind it one bit if every inch of your consciousness was etched with memories of him. "you can't break up with me yet. we've got to outlast yaga."

"like.. his life?"

"what else? it's not like he's got anyone."

you smack his shoulders. "don't be rude, you ass."

he grins. "i'll stop if you get your shoes on and come with me," he says before turning, "nice pajamas by the way."

you look down at yourself, reminding yourself that you were wearing his very oversized pokemon t-shirt and shorts. "thanks. i think i wore this better than you did, to be honest."

"i think you did too. tough to say, though, i look damn good in a charizard top."

"define 'good,' please."

he huffs and you snicker, pulling your slippers on. as soon as you're done, his cold hand is on yours and he's all but pulling you- you try your best not to be loud as you let out a sharp breath of surprise.

"we don't even have to get in," he calls as he practically races down the hall with you in tow, "let's just go!"

"you're fucking insane," you manage to get out as he bursts the dorm hall's doors open and a cold gush of air kisses your face, "you're crazy and i hate you."

he doesn't say anything but you hear his laughter again. it's suddenly so warm, warmer still as you grow acclimated to the hot summer night, and you find yourself trying to seal everything to your memory- the feeling of his hand, the smell of something sweet and honeyed in the sky, the sticky humidity and how it clung to your skin- you try to commit every piece of it to memory. you wouldn't mind if you had to spend your whole life replaying this one moment, this one scene, this one second over and over on repeat. you think you'd die happy then.

"maybe i am crazy," he says, slowing his pace abruptly so he's just walking, catching you as you stumble slightly. "crazy for you."

you feel sick and embarrassed and hot-in-the-face and in love, as you reply, "okay. okay, babe. sure you are."

✄ written for the mitsies 3k follower event using the prompt "come on! it's only a short walk to the lake, and you don't even have to go in!" "it's literally 2 in the morning."

[⇥ 3K EVENT MASTERLIST] [⇥ 3K EVENT INFO]

pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.2)

Part 1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ ☆ The Theory of Relativity by LuckyGh0st [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 11/13 chapters ] #gojo just loves you so much in this one You've lived your life without purpose. It's always been simplicity - sugar, flour, butter, mix, sugar, flour, butter, mix, simplicity, stability.

Everything changes when you find a man, bloody and beaten half to death, laying discarded in the snow.

or, Gojo Satoru is transported into a world where he doesn't exist, where you stand to change the course of everything with nothing but a kind smile and a generous hand.

☆ beyond the unending night by @stellamancer [AO3/tumblr: long one shot] [status: completed ] #the intensity of this fic omg

it is october 31, 2018— halloween in shibuya.

and you are trapped.

(you are unfortunate enough to be trapped in shibuya on october 31, 2018 in more ways in one. after many trials and many errors, you come to the conclusion the only way out is seeking out the man named satoru gojo.)

☆ you are not a god (just the man i love) by haveuseenthis [AO3 ] [status: completed ◦ 2/2 chapters] [slowburn] [tw!ptsd] [friends to lovers] #SUPER SOFT SATORU

they said gojo satoru was a god. unreachable. faraway. meant to be alone. but you knew better.

☆symptoms and causes by @lostfracturess [AO3/tumblr] [status: on going ◦ collection of fics 13/?] [professor gojo x med student reader] [smut!] #pep is OBSESSED wit this AU he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

☆out of the shadows by @extralively [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed ◦ 50/50 chapters + extras! ] [slow burn] [eventual smut!] [original female character] #pep's fav OC character #the CHEMISTRY?

No one had expected Gojo Satoru to form a friendship with the unknown girl that joined school in the same year he did. Not even Gojo Satoru, or Yura herself, especially considering he’d been an asshole to her the first time they met. A complicated friendship was born, one that would last years to come no matter how many headaches the white haired menace would give her – he was like gum in your hair, she mused, too much work to cut it out so why even bother trying?

☆ gods, monsters, monkeys by yuzudrops [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 23/23 chapters + extras!] [SUPER slowburn] [eventual smut!] [original female character] [student gojo!teacher reader (but they get together like 10 YEARS after)] [angst] #pep binged this so hard #complex/strong oc

“I thought it’d be you, if I’m being honest.” “It’d be me who what?” “Who’d go mad. Who’d go on a killing spree. Who’d just wake up one day and decide none of us are worth anything.” “Damn, sensei. Didn’t think you thought so little of yourself.” Didn’t think you thought so little of me simmers beneath. She wonders how Gojou, of all people, knows which lines can’t be crossed when his entire Cursed Technique is full of asymptotes.

A grossly under-qualified graduate of Jujutsu High is hired to teach a class of Special Grades. They learn there is more to power than strength. It doesn't end well.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

bonus! satosugu!

☆ to feel is to love by cj_ackerman [AO3: 10/10 chapters] [status: completed] [satoru x suguru] [tw!ptsd] [college!AU] #this was so so so cute #soft sugu x soft toru

In another universe, instead of his eyes being the most powerful asset, Satoru is blind. Because of this, he’s mostly alone, unable to be the star child his high-ranking parents wanted him to be.

It’s Suguru Geto that makes him believe he deserves to be loved, and that he is seen. Suguru learns that to feel, is to love.

◞  YEARNING OBSERVING YEARNING. 

꒰ satoru has been gone for three months thus far and you’re at the end of your rope with missing him. ꒱ 

ᴍᴅɴɪ. 5.2k. f!reader. no curses, idol au. fluff. angst. happy ending. est/semi-ldr. satoru’s a successful idol. sfw. reposted.

you know that this is his dream, but the loneliness you’re constantly left to face is becoming genuinely unbearable. long distance dynamics are not at all for the faint of heart. there are days when the video calls are all you long for, seeing his adorable face filling up the screen and smiling at you quite lovingly. then, there are days like today when, for a brief, fleeting moment, you consider breaking things off with the love of your life ꒰ and one of the most famous men in the world ꒱, gojo satoru.

it starts with the fact that your friend gets married and you have to go to the wedding all alone because you don’t have a date. your date is busy traveling the world, entertaining the masses, making women everywhere fawn and fall head over heels in love with him. the entirety of the event, you feel out of place with no one to dance with who isn’t a very seedy family member of the wedding party or a friend of yours who came with their own date and can’t act as your stand-in. so you opt to sit at a table alone, drinking your weight in roscato, staring at an open text thread because satoru read your message telling him how hard this was getting for you eleven hours prior but never responds. it hurts.

it’s the fact that you nearly always end up doing things like this alone. times and events where you would, can, or should bring a plus one and yours is actually able to attend with you is seldom. rarities. so painfully sporadic. it’s too hard doing the thing of being in love without being able to do the things of being in love. date nights out on the town? forget it, unless he takes you on an impromptu trip out of the country that’s so unplanned there’s no chance of you both being bombarded by the general public. paris is gorgeous. rome is phenomenal. america is a dizziness of diversity. but who wants to constantly have to pack up to take a thirteen-hour flight or longer for a three-hour date? it’s unnecessarily inconvenient. having a shoulder to cry on? not practical for his schedule. not practical for all the time zones that pack so tightly between you both that his mornings become your late evenings. his downtime is the peak of your busyness. you can only seem to synchronize free time in passing. nothing too long. nothing solid. nothing consistent. nothing secure. nothing remotely reassuring. for you, the foundation of the relationship is crumbling. satoru travels the world with his friends, endlessly doted on by his adoring fans, seeing new sights and forging new moments to reminisce fondly over in the future. but you? you’re stuck at home, stuck at your job that you hate so much and don’t even need but have anyway because working a job you hate is somehow still better than sitting at home with little yuuji and missing the boisterous laughter of your lover strolling through the house for months on end. agonizing ghosts of him singing frank sinatra in the hallway because he ‘loves the acoustics right there’ taunting and haunting you, not comforting in the least. everything is starting to always hurt.

12:22 am. you: i know you’re probably busy, but when you get time, we really, really need to talk about us.

teary-eyed and pouting, you stumble into your bedroom, a little yuuji trotting beside you as you drop your removed heels right at the entry of the bedroom door before slipping into the closet to undress. satoru hates when you do it, leave your shoes lying about, but once again, he’s not here to gripe at you about it or even to ask you to pick them back up. the house is always so empty and eerily quiet these days. everything always is. the house. the other side of the line when you do manage to get in touch with him. your heart. your willingness. the hope that keeps you in this for three years already. it’s all emptied out and vacant.

you just keep thinking about how this isn’t how you want to spend your life: not having a date to events with your friends, only sleeping next to him for a quarter of the year in total, getting by on facetime calls and those two-week periods that he’s allowed to be completely free, coping with still having to share him in that time, and worst of all, getting left on read to a text telling him how hard this is becoming. it’s becoming too much for you, and you know you need to tell him now or you’ll stay by his side, buried under the weight of your resentment. despite his routine absence, he doesn’t deserve that. satoru’s a wonderful man. the kindest one. the most earnest. the strongest. the most innocent. satoru is a good man — a good man who deserves the truth about where missing him is forcing you to stand. you text him again, the need to talk to him becoming borderline desperate.

12:26 am. you: i haven’t heard your voice in two days. i haven’t heard from you at all today. please. can you step away and call me for just a minute? 12:31 am. satoru: really busy right now baby. i was gonna text back as soon as we were done here. m’sorry. been on the move all day. we’ll talk soon i promise. i know you’re having a hard time. i’m trying to get done asap so we can talk. please don’t give up on me.

the last part of his text sends your tears spilling over your waterline. you find yourself sitting down on the floor of the closet in the beautiful gown he paid hundreds for just so you can attend a wedding alone. just so you can be spoken for but live like you’re not because you always get left on your own. you don’t want to give up on him. you don’t want to throw away a whole three years of building even this small, fragment of a life together, but this…this is agonizing. you’re miserable. not with him, but with the distance between you whose presence feels more permanent and more familiar than satoru’s.

12:34 am. you: i’m lonely, satoru. i miss you. i’m not handling all of this well right now. i’m having doubts. serious doubts. i just…we really have to talk, okay? i need you to make time for us to do that tonight. 12:40 am. satoru: baby…angel…are you about to leave me? because i won’t accept it. i won’t agree to you leaving me.

what does he mean he won’t accept it? you aren’t aware that you both can simply protest or completely disregard the verbs the other wans to perform that you don’t like, and why does he get to do so when he’s already left you?

12:41 am. satoru: you know you’re my angel, right? my everything? i love you so fucking much. i know the distance sucks right now, but we’ve gone longer, yeah? it’s been worse but we’ve made it every time, baby. please don’t leave. not like this. give me time. 12:45 am. you: time? is three years not enough? what am i supposed to do? i’m tired of crying every single day. all day. all because i can’t see you. i haven’t spoken to you. you stopped telling me good morning everyday weeks ago so i don’t even wake up to your affection. i can’t get you to answer your phone. i’m just here. taking care of the house and yuuji while you live your greatest life without me by your side. you don’t even need me.

that was the last text he was willing to exchange before he calls you. when you refuse to answer, he calls again. and again. and again.

1:18 am. satoru: answer the phone baby. let’s talk about this okay? love you so much. please pick up.

your stomach flips and you curse yourself because you’re in the starting stages of initiating the end of an era but you’re getting butterflies because he calls you baby, because he says he loves you, because he more than loves you. how can you confidently leave a man who can be thousands of miles away yet still make you feel like this? you’re uncertain if you’re ready for right now and what’s likely to occur or follow. because you say the words and you realize upon sending them that you aren’t angry. you aren’t yelling at him. you’re just stating the truth. you mean it. he doesn’t need you.

the truth is you’re not a priority for him right now because you can’t be. you accepted it for all this time, but thinking about marriage and real life together, you don’t know if you want to build a future with a man who cannot prioritize building a future with you. this much is on you, on your indulgent heart who wanted to kow the taste of his adoration despite knowing the obstacles that come in tow. you met him at a time when he was in the dead center of building a future for himself, and because of his job, you don’t have the luxury of being part of it. his company is vehemently against publicizing your relationship, especially now, especially when everything is so fragile and uncertain in the coming years, especially when satoru is just started inching towards his peak. the craziest part of it all is that neither of you wants to ‘publicize it’ with intention, but you want to go places together, like normal adults who’re dating, and if you guys are seen together then…oh well? but they’re against a single soul knowing you even exist in his world. they’re against you ever being seen at events, behind the scenes, anywhere during his tours. you have to stay at home, out of sight, out of the media, out of his management’s way of making him a star. to them, the rumors are bad enough. mitigating the media on the possibility satoru is dating openly is a headache to deal with let alone an actual, sustained relationship they’d likely have to keep mitigating the media over? it’s nothing personal for management, just business. what future would you guys be able to have like this?

1:23 am. satoru: i’m begging you please answer the phone. please talk to me. don’t give up on us. i miss you too baby. so let’s talk. answer the phone and spend time with me.

so when your phone rings again, ‘mister gojo 🐻’ in big, bold letters on the screen looking like his final plea, you sigh and answer morosely. sniffling, you greet him. “hey,” “angel…angel, you’re killing me.” a deep, shaky sigh. “baby, what’s going on in your head right now? fuck. leaving me? us?” the background is quite noisy and his volume is muffled by the array of sounds behind him: the indistinct chatter of all the others lingering wherever he is, a series of beeping and automated speech over an intercom, the sounds of scraping and rolling and static. it’s so distracting, but he calls you even though it’s horrendously inconvenient. you know it’s because you present a very serious, critical concern in your relationship that he seems to not have been expecting. he says immediately, his voice cracking. “i’m sorry i haven’t talked to you, angel. i am. i couldn’t.”   it breaks your heart to hear him sound so wounded by your words, but it’s how you’re feeling about it all. you wipe at your eyes. “i’m in my head because that’s the only place to be. i spend 85% of my time at home entertaining myself when i’m not working. everyone has things to do that don’t include me, and that’s…that’s fine, but feeling lonely when you’re not even alone is torture.” “we’re supposed to be upfront about stuff like this, not let it get so bad that you’re ready to go.” you hear him sniffle on the other side.

it doesn’t anger you, but it is frustrating. you’ve been trying to get in contact with him and talk about the difficulties you’re facing with his absence for days, but it’s either interviews or rehearsals, performances or photoshoots. there’s never even little slivers of time for you. even when he’s getting hair and makeup done, the stylists say he’s too distracted and it’s making applying his makeup harder. his members hate when he tries to talk while they’re all shuffled together traveling. and management gives not even a speckle of a fuck about him having time for you every day. there’s never any time to talk about it. you scoff. “i’ve been trying to for the last few days. you’re always too busy. you don’t text me back. you don’t pick up the phone anymore, baby.” you present the last part as a quiet sorrow. there’s no frustration behind it, only the part of you who’s desperately trying to keep your relationship intact despite all the distance that’s constantly forged between your yearning bodies, and failing.

“you’re supposed to tell me before, baby. like along the way. before it gets so overwhelming that you’re ready to leave me and throw away my entire heart when i’m literally trying to get home to you. before all of that.” you cover your mouth to hold back the sound of your own cries, forcing sniffles and tiny hiccups in the place of moaning and wailing. your vision becomes blurry and fills up with shimmering tears, because satoru is very openly, very audibly crying — small sobs and whimpers between his speech. “who said i don’t need you? who said that?” he asks, voice broken and fearful. “if i didn’t need you, i wouldn’t cry like a fucking baby at night because you’re not with me. i feel sick inside missing you. wishing you were here with me. wishing i could give you a normal fucking relationship, but i’m not in a normal position. you knew that. i told you. i begged you not to give up on me if you were agreeing to do this with me. you said forever and now you’re trying to take it back? no. i don’t accept that. i won’t. so what do i need to do to keep you? what will it take?” “satoru…please…” “no. there’s no please. tell me what i need to do to keep you. because honestly, angel, you’re ripping my fucking heart to shreds right now. we have to figure this out. there’s no way in hell i’m letting you walk away from us.” he sniffs, weak cries still flowing into the phone, painting every crevice of your heart in a shade of aching. “there’s no walking away from us, baby. okay?” your lower lip trembles, overwhelmed by his determination to keep you. maybe you’re wrong about not being a priority. “i’m sorry, satoru. i just…this has been so fucking hard. and then i went to the wedding all on my own. again. and everyone just keeps asking why you never show up with me anywhere. again. it just…it got to me really bad this time. it’s so hard. being completely and utterly taken but having to live practically single because your partner can’t be there. i miss you, satoru. i’m lonely.” “baby, i understand. i get it. i feel that way, too, you know?” his voice is soft, warm even, trying to maintain a sense of calmness, compassion, and love. “it’s hard for me, too.” “is it?” you question very seriously. “because every time i see clips of you from your shows on ig or tiktok, you look like you’re having the time of your life. smiling from ear to ear. being surrounded by so much love that it doesn’t seem to matter to have mine.” he squeaks but then goes silent. you hear the opening of a door and the harsh closing behind it, all the background noise falling completely silent. you hear that he’s still crying at the softest volume he can manage. when he speaks, his voice is softly appalled, brittle, threatening to crumble at any moment.

“how can you say that? how can you suggest you’re the only one in this having a brutal fucking time without the love of their life? because i smile for cameras and for my fans? because i want the people who paid hundreds of dollars just to see me to feel like they got the best version of me so they don’t feel disappointed? you’re taking that and measuring it to missing you? as if i don’t periodically call you in tears from how badly i wanna be with you? as if i don’t tell you how much i love touring but it’s a goddamn depressing time for my personal life because it means leaving my little family behind. you and yuuji. how can you say that? you can’t be here with me. i’m all yours and stuck being far away for so long. you don’t get to come to company banquets or award ceremonies to be there for me, with me. when i win anything, i have to get on stage and fight back my fucking tears because the one person i want to see looking back at me and thank for believing in me can’t be there with me. it kills me. it fucking destroys me inside. don’t tell me it’s not hard for me.”

upon hearing his words, there’s now a thick blanket of guilt covering the top of your sadness, feeling more like it’s suffocating you. you haven’t thought of it that way, from his perspective, haven’t even considered the amount of events he attends alone. he’s with his friends and members, sure, but times and events where he would, can, or should bring a plus one and his is actually able to attend is…never. for you, his presence is seldom. it’s rare, but it is. whereas with him, your attendance is entirely nonexistent. not because you want it that way. not for a lack of trying on your part. “i…you’re right…i can’t say that. it’s not fair.” you admit quietly, voice low and lightly ashamed of the words you say and his experience you disregard. “i’m sorry for saying that to you, satoru.” “let’s just get through this, okay? no apologies. i just want to keep you, and i can’t get off this phone until i know i am.” he sniffles hard. “i love you, angel. you know that, right? you know you’re not in this alone, yeah? we’re in it together.” tears still silently flowing, you respond tenderly. “i know you love me, satoru. i love you, too. but…are you even happy like this? don’t you want more than this?” “what more is there to want? i have exactly what i want and exactly what i need. and both of those things are you. of course, i wish you could be there and be here with me, but i know you’re supporting me no matter what. it pushes me to do my best every time. getting to see you after is the highlight of those evenings. skipping after parties to come crawl into bed with you is my favorite pastime.” you don’t say anything iat first. you just wonder where to even go from here. he says breaking up isn’t an option. he says he’s going to stay on the phone until he knows he’s keeping you. he says he’s fine with things as they are, even if they hurt you both, because he has you, and it’s worth the sacrifice. you feel the same way; you do. and maybe for a split second, you just forget, become too jaded by the heaviness of feeling like you’ve been isolated and abandoned. but you recall quite vividly that you told him after the first year together that there’s no separating for you both. only forever and working it out. no forfeiting, only fighting tooth and nail to make it work. “what do i need to do, baby?” he asks, much softer, much more loving. “how can i keep you by my side?” the kaleidoscope of butterflies swarm you. the way it feels, it’s like your heart is free falling, diving to find him and be drowned in all his devotion. “i…i..” you sigh, shaky and defeated. “nothing…nothing at all, satoru. i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m sorry for all of this.” “just needing me?” he asks, his voice small and raspy, teeming with all of his longing. “because…i’m just needing you, too. and it hurts a lot.” although he can’t see, you nod in agreement. it does hurt a lot, a whole fucking lot. your quivering lip and tear-filled eyes can attest to that much. “yeah,” your fragile voice falls as a whisper. “m’just needing you so bad. and it hurts that you’re not here.” “m’on my way, okay? i’ll be home soon.” he promises. “just wait for me. give me a little more time. please, angel. just hold out a little longer for me.” “yeah…okay…okay. i’ll hold out.” you promise. “i miss you.” a sniffle and a declaration. “we won’t have to miss each other for much longer.” in the background, you hear him returning to all the noise. inwardly, you sigh. there’s always something distracting, always something in the way of you both being able to submerge into your time together fully. you both just got over a small hurdle that threatened to end in you leaving this house and the life you made with him inside of it. “it’s so fucking loud in here.” he grumbles. you hum, agreeing. “where are you even?” “airport,” he answers calmly. “connecting flight.”

when he says it, you aren’t sure why it makes you start to cry all over again. maybe because you know it means he’s still gone. he’s still so far away, and he’s not coming home soon. he still has more work to do, more promises to his fans to fulfill, and more time he owes them all. he’s on a connecting flight and probably didn’t anticipate having this conversation right now. he probably planned to be asleep, but he ends up reconciling having to go to their next show utterly heartbroken. “off to your next stop?” you ask, sniffling and continuing to wipe your tears. “yeah…yeah i am. my last one, actually.” he says. “my last flight for a very fucking long time, i hope.” this makes you smile, him talking about coming home, him talking about anything other than being gone for longer than the three months he’s already been. “where’s your last stop?” he chuckles. “i suppose we’ll find out soon enough.” “what? is it like some secret show they didn’t tell you guys about?” you ask him, confused by his response. he hums his uncertainty. “that’s fucking weird.” “yeah, a bit. but, baby…are we good?” he asks timidly. “you’re still mine?” you look down at your knees curled up to your chest, dejection filling up your existence, because you know as soon as you give him the answer he wants, he’ll be off, leaving you on your own again. still, you murmur, “yeah…yeah, i’m still yours.” “good,” he breathes. “no takebacks.” you giggle. “okay,” “promise?” “yeah, baby, i promise.” he sighs his relief. “you had me freaking out, baby. you had me fucking losing it. the thought of you leaving? coming home but it’s not to you? just yuuji and the house we picked together? all our pictures on the wall? i was gonna have a meltdown.” “i’m sorry.” in the closet still, you stand to your feet, finally finding the energy to get up and change into clothes you can sleep in. that’s all you want to do now: go to sleep so you can stop thinking about all of this, so you can have a few hours where missing him isn’t plaguing your existence and stealing the air in lungs, a few hours where his absence isn’t like a chisel to an ice block on your resolve. “no apologies.” his gentle reminder. “no walking away.” your soft agreemet. “i know, baby.” “only loving bear forever.” he added. “only staying by his side.” you nodded, a smile reshaping your lips that sunk into a melancholic pout. “only loving bear forever. and staying by bear’s side.” “i love you, angel. i have to go, but get some rest. it’s late there. and i just know you left your shoes in the doorway. please pick them up. it’s so unsanitary and yuuji is already a little vacuum for random particles.” much to your surprise, you laugh. “how could you possibly know that?” “because you’re my honey and i know you.” you roll your eyes at him, still smiling fondly, heart bursting with reminders of why it’s him. why you chose him, why you were willing to do the hard part for all this time, why there’s no walking away, why there’s only loving him forever and staying by his side. “of course a bear would be quite familiar with his honey.” you note, nodding as you undress. “you get some rest, too. i love you so much.” “you better love me back.” he grumbled. “goodnight, angel. i love you, too. so, so much.” when the call ends, you find yourself crestfallen, succumbing to all the waves of indubitable despondency. here you are, alone again. ending your night alone again, laying on his side of the bed that doesn’t even smell like him anymore because he’s been a ghost to the egyptian cotton for months, alone again. you change into a big shirt, one of his, because if you can’t have him then you’ll cling to all of the belongings he leaves behind.

you find yourself observing the whole room as you saunter to your overly-sized and overwhelmingly empty bed. there’s pictures everywhere along the walls, all of memories you both have made in the last three years, all a display of the fondness that’s accumulated between you both in all this time, a quilt of attachment you both weave in love together.

he’s right, truly, there’s no walking away. not when every thread of your lives is tangled and stitched together, not when those tangles and stitches are the very seams of who you both are: part of each other. you lay in bed filled with regret about what’s happened, because even though he seems happy that he isn’t losing you, you worry he would start to have doubts of his own now that you’d basically threatened to leave him. does that mean it’ll be on the table for him in the future? when you fall asleep that night, weepy and emotional, a dark cloud of impending doom looming over your head, you wonder why he can’t be there. why can’t you both be together without anything or anyone in the way? the next morning, you wake up groaning because yuuji’s zooming through the house, barking at the top of his baby lungs and you’ve had enough already. how can a creature that hardly weighs 10lbs emit such sounds and project them so loudly? you pull another pillow over your face to drown out the sound. there’s no way it isn’t incredibly early, so yuuji’s behavior is quite honestly disrespectful. “yuu, please.” you whine, pulling blankets over your head. “let mommy sleep.” what alarms you then is the shuffling in the hallway you hear and you spring up, heart racing in your chest thinking that someone’s gotten in and that’s why yuuji’s having a conniption. unsure of what to do, because you have neither weapons nor burglar-combat strength, you decide to crouch down beside the bed, contemplating whether or not you should go ahead and try to wedge yourself underneath it. you aren’t expecting anyone. satoru is god knows where. the only other people with a key are his two best friends outside of his members and parents, but all of those people call before showing up. yuuji’s barking turns into whining, and the voice that coos his name sends your heart clambering up into your throat. “aww, did you miss daddy?” satoru coos in the hallway right outside the bedroom door. “i missed you, too, bud. let’s go see if your mom missed me as much as she says she does.” upon hearing his voice, realizing it’s him and he’s home, you rise to your feet so fast, you nearly fall right back down to the floor. you squeak trying to catch your steps. when you look up, your favorite boy is standing in the doorway to your bedroom, looking at you with a lazy grin spanninng his lips, a huge duffle on his shoulders that he drops immediately upon seeing you. of course, your sobbing and blubbering is instantaneous. “you’re home?” you ask, lips set into a deep pout. “really home?” he nods, ardent eyes melting at the sight of you. “angel, get over here.” and you do. you go around the bed carefully because you have a horrible habit of running into things and you shoot straight for his arms that are wide open and waiting, ready to receive you urgently and without hesitation, scooping you up while your legs wrap around him and your arms go around his shoulders. he’s home. he’s home. he’s home. “why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, so angry and so grateful at the same time. “oh my god, i almost broke up with you on your way fucking home?” the sob you release makes him chuckle, becoming teary-eyed himself.

“i missed you so fucking much. i knew i was coming home early to surprise you. i almost spoiled every-fucking-thing when you tried to leave me.” he told you, hot tears spilling out his eyes. “i didn’t answer for all that time because i was on a twelve-hour flight, baby. we literally had landed to catch our connect. i…baby, i got so scared i was about to come home to an empty house. i got your texts and my fucking heart dropped.” now, he’s moving you both toward your bed. you cradle his cheeks in the palms of your hands, apologetic eyes peering at him. when his eyes meet yours again, you both pause, realizing your irises are merely reflections of the other’s, yearning observing yearning. 

“you have two seconds to kiss me before i devour you.” he warns. “hurry, your bear is ready to hibernate.” “bear doesn’t want a taste of honey beforehand?” you ask seductively. giggling, you close the distance between your mouths, elation and eagerness being traded between breaths. this is truly all you want, all you cried on the closet floor for — a kiss and a halcyon sigh, two arms around you, and sinking into the future you both promised. he grins, a shake of the head, “when bear wakes up, it’ll be spring, and he’s going to eat his fill of honey then.”