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.when you were mine - sakusa kiyoomi

.pairings sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

.genre break up

.ongoing | completed

.tw cursing(?)

.wc 2.4k

SUMMARY

Leaving Sakusa Kiyoomi was hard, but staying with him was harder.

Keep me in your arms again, I pine for the warm feeling of home where our limbs laid restlessly in our bed. I long for the touch of your fingertips and the ghost of your breath. I yearn for the mixed laundry in our room, and how you tried your best to keep the colours from mixing. Your efforts were far from being in vain, rather it was my fault for never trying hard enough for you. Trying hard enough for us.

I awaken alone now, with your side of the bed empty, and cold. A naked pillow with no head to call its own. The nights are darker, where the winter season couldn't hold a candle to the hiemal desolation that hibernated in my heart.

The coffee is bitter; dark and too acerbic for my own liking. The taste lingers too. It's pungent, and the scent wafts around the house until I leave it.

It's practically embarrassing to walk the streets without your hand intertwined in mine, I feel discomfited at the fact that I can no longer grab a hold of your hand in order to find sanctuary, the same hand I would grip onto afraid that I would lose you in broad daylight, the same hand that embraced your body every night that we slept, and the same hand that would wipe away your tears in the evening.

Yet it was twilight when you left me. I felt your presence begin to dissipate within the air as I slept for longer, so when the chill of a human's existence or lack thereof, had held me in the night, I woke up: to see nothing on your side.

And it all came flashing back to me, why you had left. Why you had packed your bags, why you cried as you removed most of your belongings into one suitcase.

ー

"You're late home today."

"Yeah."

Pure silence grows in the atmosphere and neither of us speak. You seemed expectant that I would answer you, but I couldn't tell at the time.

"...Do you want to tell me why?"

"Do I have to? I'm tired today."

"Okay. There's food in the fridge if you ever get hungry."

ー

The awkwardness that grew in our relationship may have driven you more and more to leave, and it's my fault for not trying. The effort that I lacked for our relationship had been made up for by you, and it had taken all of your energy alongside it, and quite possibly, your love for me.

I drained you by loving you languidly, I emptied your void by not filling it the way you had wanted me to. I expected you to make all of the first moves, and that you would do all the work for me in this relationship, and that I had to do nothing.

But you said to me that you were fine with getting hurt, so long as it were for me. So why are you leaving now, when you were the one who promised that you would do everything to make me happy, are you tired of me? Have you had enough?

Our solicitous tête-à-têtes had soon enough squandered from the depths of our hearts and eventually reshaped themselves into a mandatory chore made from the top of our heads, maybe to remind one another that there could've been a spark, that maybe our love was salvageable; even though you knew full well I could not respond in the healthy ways we knew I should have.

I've grown to detest the very sight of bookstores, or gardens. They were your favourite date idea and we hadn't been to either one of them together in months. But to my dismay, your favourite library had sent me an email, notifying there was a book yet to be returned, and we had to pay a small fine.

The nostalgia seemed to creep back up into my memory as I took steps closer to return the book Essays of Love that had been contained carefully in the tote bag which you bought me from our uni days.

ー

"I know it's not much, but we're starving students, and I thought this would suit your coat that your mom bought you." You shot a tender smile towards me, as you handed the off white bag with intricate black brushes against the material, that unexpectedly did suit the coat my mother had purchased for me.

"You didn't need to do this." I remember that I had pressed a small kiss against the pads of your knuckles as we stepped closer in proximity in the blistering winters of Tokyo; the neon lights of the building illuminating the features on your face in which I grew accustomed to.

"I know. But I love you."

"Thanks."

ー

"That'll be ¥1000." The local librarian speaks, aggressively typing against the keys of her board, and simultaneously writing swiftly against the yellow pad paper which had notes we both knew would be futile in the future.

Handing her the money, I gave a quick thank you before making my way back home in the dark afternoon of December. Meandering around the town wasted too much time, and the solitude which had consumed my being after your departure soon became an obligation in my life, and there could be no other way to regurgitate these feelings of drab emptiness and neglect. But I finally had time to think to myself for a bit though. As calamitous my mind was, the inhospitable temper of the winter night kept me company and I was numbed to the glacier like climate during my promenade.

I treated you with a manner that seemed perfectly fine to me, but neglectful to you and I became too expectant of your actions, anticipating for you to ask to hold my hand, or to request that I hug you in the night, and that I could pass you the box of tissues beside me; and I thought as though it was enough for you.

It's strenuous to walk around our home when everything is painted with you, when your hairbrush still abides on the edge of the vanity of our my room. When your mismatched socks still dawdle in the hallways and into my vision as I walk up the stairs every passing day after you left, or when your old shirt still situates on your side of the bed just as I had positioned it so.

Once again I yearn for you, just like those nights ago, and the pain comes washing back like a tide, exposing my most vulnerable aspects. The curtains close and I can finally let my bottled up ardour burst, chest heaving, lips trembling with an audible quiver every few seconds. Lachrymose eyes and a runny nose could only be a brief description of the inexpressible emotions bubbling up within my soul.

Sheer agony engulfs itself within me and I lose all senses of sanity as I think of how I've lost you, how you've left me, and how I can never get you back.

ー

"Kiyoomi?" His head had never turned so fast towards the reverberation of your voice. There you stood in your glory, wearing what he knew you would consider "indoor clothes", holding a bag in your arms as well as your keys to the house.

"What are you doing here?" Flicking the tears away and regaining his posture, he looms over you, observing your current state.

You didn't look any better, skin pale, lips chapped and hair disheveled, if anything, you seemed worse than he did, yet you had too much pride in your personality to admit that.

"I've come to collect the rest of my belongings." Sharp and clean was the cut. Enough to slice through Kiyoomi's heart, and you could hear it if you listened closely.

The impending outcome of your relationship had come to its destination, and he deemed it unacceptable, as he tried to grasp you in his clutches whilst you pack away the rest of your belongings, taking Kiyoomi's heart with you.

His countless cries echoed in your shared bedroom, as he attempted to take your clothes back out of the bag you had brought alongside you.

"Just one more day, please, stay with me. And I'll let you go." As heartbreaking as it would be to him, you scoffed, taking his words like a joke, like it was offensive of him to even step near you.

"Stop trying. I'm sick of this, I'm sick of you. Where was all of this six months ago? Why are you acting up now? Stop being selfish and let me go." Yanking your wrist away from him, you zip up the bag bringing the rest of your belongings, ignoring the clenching sensation going wild in your chest.

His countless tries to win you back into his arms for the night had failed to his dismay, and you had vanished into the twilight to a destination he would never figure out. Your relationship together had begun deteriorating the moment you'd granted him anything he wished without wanting something in return, or in this case, his love.

The neglect he'd provided you had only driven you to do more for him, maybe to please him, to make him look your way; but to no avail would he send an ounce of his undivided attention towards you, the love of his life for who knows how long. It was an ongoing cycle, and it wasn't until six months later you'd realise you wasted all of your time and energy on a man who wouldn't exert the same impression just to remind you that he did love you back.

Yet somehow, you knew that no matter how little he had shown you that he'd loved you too, there was a voice in the back of your head that would try to reassure that maybe, truly, he did love you the same way you loved him, but it was just that he struggled. But you'd gotten rid of the voice in that part of your head, you knew it would only hurt you to keep defending Kiyoomi in this empty relationship. Pretending to yourself that some day he'd say those three words back and not just some half assed "Me too" or "Thanks" was ruining you more than staying with him, so maybe leaving was for the better.

Although it was true that Kiyoomi was never an affectionate person in the first place, you'd assumed that he'd changed for the ones that he loves, as any normal person would do, but he would never budge out of his shell, only breaking what was left of your heart. His introversion seemed to keep up for three or more years, or however long it was the two of you dated, he'd never keep track as he deemed anniversaries to be "unnecessarily difficult to plan".

So moving on from him would be the best decision, even though you'd loved him since you were 17, and you had known no better, than to love Sakusa Kiyoomi, Itachiyama's Ace Spiker. Even though it was going to hurt, and the process would be long and hard, you knew it'd be for the better and the both of you would grow up to be happier people. After all, you're only 23.

"Goodbye, Kiyoomi. I-" It was a growing habit to always say 'I love you' before departing from him, maybe to encourage him to say it back. Although looking at where you are right now, you knew it'd be best not to say anything at all, just to save yourselves the pain.

He's fumbling through his words, before he finally stammers. "I lo-love you."

It was enough to make you stop in your tracks, but it could not fully equate to the agonising memories where you'd wait hours and hours every day just to make sure he got home safe. It could not amount to the times you had wasted to put an effort into the relationship only for him to hand back a yawn alongside a wave of his hand saying, 'Not today.' None of it could measure to the countless dates, movies, dinners he had missed, using the excuse of his practice.

You were never an important priority of his in the first place, and it finally came to be that you would never be a priority of his in the future. Staying with him for longer would only be a constant reminder of how little he tried between the two of you, and it would just be a shot to your ego at this point.

"Please say something." His voice is quiet and hoarse, barely trembling out the syllables that you could only jusy decipher. He attempts to close thr gap between the two of you, stepping closer with his hands reached out to grab yours, and you walk further back, shaking your head, shattering his heart on impact.

"No." You firmly reply. "I'm sick of waiting, I'm tired of having to lie to myself and everybody else about how you're doing when the last time I've been able to check, you would only wave me off and say 'night'. What the hell is that, Kiyoomi?" Your words shoot towards him like a shot of a new venom, and his body freezes, unprepared for your next response. "I don't want this anymore."

He shakes his head in refusal, not ready to face the facts. "Don't say it," he hushes you, "please, don't say anything. Just stay with me, I'll be better. I know I will."

The newfound urge to suddenly plead you back into his life almost convinces you to retract your statement, and just go back to him. Go back to staying in the quiet, lonely home, where you would spend most days wondering if Kiyoomi was even going to be back today. However, you shake your head again, and give him a pitiful smile, ready to crush his heart with your bare hands and let the remnants crumble for him to clean up.

"I don't want you, Kiyoomi. So just let me leave." You try your hardest to ignore the collapse in his expression as he finally hears your farewell. Taking the bag you had filled with the rest of your stuff, you walk away from Kiyoomi, with his cracked sobs in the background begging you to stay.

It's hard to miss the wails of the man you once loved when it's thrown right at your face, and you no longer have an obligation to wipe his tears away. The sobs get fainter and fainter, and you take a breath of relief as you finally feel free from the shackles that love had kept you under.

a/n hi lol this was kinda sitting in my drafts so i just like did what i could im sorry for the half assed ending im so tired these days :(( and its been like months since ive been on this account

.when you were mine - sakusa kiyoomi

.pairings sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

.genre angst, break up, lovers to exes, hurt no comfort

.ongoing | completed

.tw cursing(?)

.wc 2.4k

SUMMARY

Leaving Sakusa Kiyoomi was hard, but staying with him was harder.

Keep me in your arms again, I pine for the warm feeling of home where our limbs laid restlessly in our bed. I long for the touch of your fingertips and the ghost of your breath. I yearn for the mixed laundry in our room, and how you tried your best to keep the colours from mixing. Your efforts were far from being in vain, rather it was my fault for never trying hard enough for you. Trying hard enough for us.

I awaken alone now, with your side of the bed empty, and cold. A naked pillow with no head to call its own. The nights are darker, where the winter season couldn't hold a candle to the hiemal desolation that hibernated in my heart.

The coffee is bitter; dark and too acerbic for my own liking. The taste lingers too. It's pungent, and the scent wafts around the house until I leave it.

It's practically embarrassing to walk the streets without your hand intertwined in mine, I feel discomfited at the fact that I can no longer grab a hold of your hand in order to find sanctuary, the same hand I would grip onto afraid that I would lose you in broad daylight, the same hand that embraced your body every night that we slept, and the same hand that would wipe away your tears in the evening.

Yet it was twilight when you left me. I felt your presence begin to dissipate within the air as I slept for longer, so when the chill of a human's existence or lack thereof, had held me in the night, I woke up: to see nothing on your side.

And it all came flashing back to me, why you had left. Why you had packed your bags, why you cried as you removed most of your belongings into one suitcase.

ー

"You're late home today."

"Yeah."

Pure silence grows in the atmosphere and neither of us speak. You seemed expectant that I would answer you, but I couldn't tell at the time.

"...Do you want to tell me why?"

"Do I have to? I'm tired today."

"Okay. There's food in the fridge if you ever get hungry."

ー

The awkwardness that grew in our relationship may have driven you more and more to leave, and it's my fault for not trying. The effort that I lacked for our relationship had been made up for by you, and it had taken all of your energy alongside it, and quite possibly, your love for me.

I drained you by loving you languidly, I emptied your void by not filling it the way you had wanted me to. I expected you to make all of the first moves, and that you would do all the work for me in this relationship, and that I had to do nothing.

But you said to me that you were fine with getting hurt, so long as it were for me. So why are you leaving now, when you were the one who promised that you would do everything to make me happy, are you tired of me? Have you had enough?

Our solicitous tête-à-têtes had soon enough squandered from the depths of our hearts and eventually reshaped themselves into a mandatory chore made from the top of our heads, maybe to remind one another that there could've been a spark, that maybe our love was salvageable; even though you knew full well I could not respond in the healthy ways we knew I should have.

I've grown to detest the very sight of bookstores, or gardens. They were your favourite date idea and we hadn't been to either one of them together in months. But to my dismay, your favourite library had sent me an email, notifying there was a book yet to be returned, and we had to pay a small fine.

The nostalgia seemed to creep back up into my memory as I took steps closer to return the book Essays of Love that had been contained carefully in the tote bag which you bought me from our uni days.

ー

"I know it's not much, but we're starving students, and I thought this would suit your coat that your mom bought you." You shot a tender smile towards me, as you handed the off white bag with intricate black brushes against the material, that unexpectedly did suit the coat my mother had purchased for me.

"You didn't need to do this." I remember that I had pressed a small kiss against the pads of your knuckles as we stepped closer in proximity in the blistering winters of Tokyo; the neon lights of the building illuminating the features on your face in which I grew accustomed to.

"I know. But I love you."

"Thanks."

ー

"That'll be ¥1000." The local librarian speaks, aggressively typing against the keys of her board, and simultaneously writing swiftly against the yellow pad paper which had notes we both knew would be futile in the future.

Handing her the money, I gave a quick thank you before making my way back home in the dark afternoon of December. Meandering around the town wasted too much time, and the solitude which had consumed my being after your departure soon became an obligation in my life, and there could be no other way to regurgitate these feelings of drab emptiness and neglect. But I finally had time to think to myself for a bit though. As calamitous my mind was, the inhospitable temper of the winter night kept me company and I was numbed to the glacier like climate during my promenade.

I treated you with a manner that seemed perfectly fine to me, but neglectful to you and I became too expectant of your actions, anticipating for you to ask to hold my hand, or to request that I hug you in the night, and that I could pass you the box of tissues beside me; and I thought as though it was enough for you.

It's strenuous to walk around our home when everything is painted with you, when your hairbrush still abides on the edge of the vanity of our my room. When your mismatched socks still dawdle in the hallways and into my vision as I walk up the stairs every passing day after you left, or when your old shirt still situates on your side of the bed just as I had positioned it so.

Once again I yearn for you, just like those nights ago, and the pain comes washing back like a tide, exposing my most vulnerable aspects. The curtains close and I can finally let my bottled up ardour burst, chest heaving, lips trembling with an audible quiver every few seconds. Lachrymose eyes and a runny nose could only be a brief description of the inexpressible emotions bubbling up within my soul.

Sheer agony engulfs itself within me and I lose all senses of sanity as I think of how I've lost you, how you've left me, and how I can never get you back.

ー

"Kiyoomi?" His head had never turned so fast towards the reverberation of your voice. There you stood in your glory, wearing what he knew you would consider "indoor clothes", holding a bag in your arms as well as your keys to the house.

"What are you doing here?" Flicking the tears away and regaining his posture, he looms over you, observing your current state.

You didn't look any better, skin pale, lips chapped and hair disheveled, if anything, you seemed worse than he did, yet you had too much pride in your personality to admit that.

"I've come to collect the rest of my belongings." Sharp and clean was the cut. Enough to slice through Kiyoomi's heart, and you could hear it if you listened closely.

The impending outcome of your relationship had come to its destination, and he deemed it unacceptable, as he tried to grasp you in his clutches whilst you pack away the rest of your belongings, taking Kiyoomi's heart with you.

His countless cries echoed in your shared bedroom, as he attempted to take your clothes back out of the bag you had brought alongside you.

"Just one more day, please, stay with me. And I'll let you go." As heartbreaking as it would be to him, you scoffed, taking his words like a joke, like it was offensive of him to even step near you.

"Stop trying. I'm sick of this, I'm sick of you. Where was all of this six months ago? Why are you acting up now? Stop being selfish and let me go." Yanking your wrist away from him, you zip up the bag bringing the rest of your belongings, ignoring the clenching sensation going wild in your chest.

His countless tries to win you back into his arms for the night had failed to his dismay, and you had vanished into the twilight to a destination he would never figure out. Your relationship together had begun deteriorating the moment you'd granted him anything he wished without wanting something in return, or in this case, his love.

The neglect he'd provided you had only driven you to do more for him, maybe to please him, to make him look your way; but to no avail would he send an ounce of his undivided attention towards you, the love of his life for who knows how long. It was an ongoing cycle, and it wasn't until six months later you'd realise you wasted all of your time and energy on a man who wouldn't exert the same impression just to remind you that he did love you back.

Yet somehow, you knew that no matter how little he had shown you that he'd loved you too, there was a voice in the back of your head that would try to reassure that maybe, truly, he did love you the same way you loved him, but it was just that he struggled. But you'd gotten rid of the voice in that part of your head, you knew it would only hurt you to keep defending Kiyoomi in this empty relationship. Pretending to yourself that some day he'd say those three words back and not just some half assed "Me too" or "Thanks" was ruining you more than staying with him, so maybe leaving was for the better.

Although it was true that Kiyoomi was never an affectionate person in the first place, you'd assumed that he'd changed for the ones that he loves, as any normal person would do, but he would never budge out of his shell, only breaking what was left of your heart. His introversion seemed to keep up for three or more years, or however long it was the two of you dated, he'd never keep track as he deemed anniversaries to be "unnecessarily difficult to plan".

So moving on from him would be the best decision, even though you'd loved him since you were 17, and you had known no better, than to love Sakusa Kiyoomi, Itachiyama's Ace Spiker. Even though it was going to hurt, and the process would be long and hard, you knew it'd be for the better and the both of you would grow up to be happier people. After all, you're only 23.

"Goodbye, Kiyoomi. I-" It was a growing habit to always say 'I love you' before departing from him, maybe to encourage him to say it back. Although looking at where you are right now, you knew it'd be best not to say anything at all, just to save yourselves the pain.

He's fumbling through his words, before he finally stammers. "I lo-love you."

It was enough to make you stop in your tracks, but it could not fully equate to the agonising memories where you'd wait hours and hours every day just to make sure he got home safe. It could not amount to the times you had wasted to put an effort into the relationship only for him to hand back a yawn alongside a wave of his hand saying, 'Not today.' None of it could measure to the countless dates, movies, dinners he had missed, using the excuse of his practice.

You were never an important priority of his in the first place, and it finally came to be that you would never be a priority of his in the future. Staying with him for longer would only be a constant reminder of how little he tried between the two of you, and it would just be a shot to your ego at this point.

"Please say something." His voice is quiet and hoarse, barely trembling out the syllables that you could only jusy decipher. He attempts to close thr gap between the two of you, stepping closer with his hands reached out to grab yours, and you walk further back, shaking your head, shattering his heart on impact.

"No." You firmly reply. "I'm sick of waiting, I'm tired of having to lie to myself and everybody else about how you're doing when the last time I've been able to check, you would only wave me off and say 'night'. What the hell is that, Kiyoomi?" Your words shoot towards him like a shot of a new venom, and his body freezes, unprepared for your next response. "I don't want this anymore."

He shakes his head in refusal, not ready to face the facts. "Don't say it," he hushes you, "please, don't say anything. Just stay with me, I'll be better. I know I will."

The newfound urge to suddenly plead you back into his life almost convinces you to retract your statement, and just go back to him. Go back to staying in the quiet, lonely home, where you would spend most days wondering if Kiyoomi was even going to be back today. However, you shake your head again, and give him a pitiful smile, ready to crush his heart with your bare hands and let the remnants crumble for him to clean up.

"I don't want you, Kiyoomi. So just let me leave." You try your hardest to ignore the collapse in his expression as he finally hears your farewell. Taking the bag you had filled with the rest of your stuff, you walk away from Kiyoomi, with his cracked sobs in the background begging you to stay.

It's hard to miss the wails of the man you once loved when it's thrown right at your face, and you no longer have an obligation to wipe his tears away. The sobs get fainter and fainter, and you take a breath of relief as you finally feel free from the shackles that love had kept you under.

a/n hi lol this was kinda sitting in my drafts so i just like did what i could im sorry for the half assed ending im so tired these days :(( and its been like months since ive been on this account

OMG 😭😭😭

[01:21] atsumu miya has a big crush on you

warnings none!

you weren't surprised that he stared at her; her features so delicate, yet sharp, gentle yet so bold. envy couldn't help but knock at your door as you notice that every class you catch him staring at her: your seatmate. much like all the other girls, you'd taken a liking to atsumu miya, the setter of the volleyball club.

you shared a few classes with him, but most of the time you sat apart in far distances from the room, your existence barely noticeable to his schedule. despite having a friendship with him several years back, he'd changed and drifted from you as a result of conflict in interest. blissful and short lived was the friendship, yet quality over quantity had truly reigned over that highlighted phrase, and you had come to terms with it yourself.

even though you had been friends with atsumu for two years as early teenagers; he made life feel like rainfall on a drought, sunshine in blistering winters. he'd provided you with chunks of happiness no other person could gift to you. losing him was a defeat on your behalf as you realised you weren't as important to him as you had thought.

sitting pretty your seatmate, emiko, sighed tirelessly at your cluelessness as you quietly groan at the reminder of atsumu never looking your way, when in reality it was the polar opposite.

watching you dejectedly sit every lesson beside her was a killjoy, and she'd wish you could notice that in reality atsumu had been burning holes into your face every class, and not her. although the chase was interesting to witness, it had taken far too long and she couldn't help but feel as if she'd become a wedge in the (yet to bloom) relationship.

"that ends this lesson, please make sure that all the people's names i've written on the board have handed in their assignment by tomorrow. you may all leave." like the speed of light, you pack up your books and are the first to leave the class, sparing no glance to the innocent setter waiting to grab your attention.

"miya-san," emiko calls out, "if you're going to stare at l/n-san all throughout the class, do it so they know that you're staring at them, not me."

atsumu's face burns red with embarrassment and he nods in accordance, before running towards the direction he assumed you headed. sighing yet again, emiko slowly packs her bags up and hopes that things between you and atsumu are cleared up.

a/n: this is kind of a whole like mutual pining thing but both love interests are dense and cant pick up hints ?? its really short though rip

[01:21] atsumu miya has a big crush on you

warnings none!

other timestamps

you weren't surprised that he stared at her; her features so delicate, yet sharp, gentle yet so bold. envy couldn't help but knock at your door as you notice that every class you catch him staring at her: your seatmate. much like all the other people, you'd taken a liking to atsumu miya, the setter of the volleyball club.

you shared a few classes with him, but most of the time you sat apart in far distances from the room, your existence barely noticeable to his schedule. despite having a friendship with him several years back, he'd changed and drifted from you as a result of conflict in interest. blissful and short lived was the friendship, yet quality over quantity had truly reigned over that highlighted phrase, and you had come to terms with it yourself.

even though you had been friends with atsumu for two years as early teenagers; he made life feel like rainfall on a drought, sunshine in blistering winters. he'd provided you with chunks of happiness no other person could gift to you. losing him was a defeat on your behalf as you realised you weren't as important to him as you had thought.

sitting pretty your seatmate, emiko, sighed tirelessly at your cluelessness as you quietly groan at the reminder of atsumu never looking your way, when in reality it was the polar opposite.

watching you dejectedly sit every lesson beside her was a killjoy, and she'd wish you could notice that in reality atsumu had been burning holes into your face every class, and not her. although the chase was interesting to witness, it had taken far too long and she couldn't help but feel as if she'd become a wedge in the (yet to bloom) relationship.

"that ends this lesson, please make sure that all the people's names i've written on the board have handed in their assignment by tomorrow. you may all leave." like the speed of light, you pack up your books and are the first to leave the class, sparing no glance to the innocent setter waiting to grab your attention.

"miya-san," emiko calls out, "if you're going to stare at l/n-san all throughout the class, do it so they know that you're staring at them, not me."

atsumu's face burns red with embarrassment and he nods in accordance, before running towards the direction he assumed you headed. sighing yet again, emiko slowly packs her bags up and hopes that things between you and atsumu are cleared up.

a/n: this is kind of a whole like mutual pining thing but both love interests are dense and cant pick up hints ?? its really short though rip

...guys im lowkey getting back into my kpop fanfiction phase pls i thought i escaped this years ago 😭😭

[23:17] atsumu miya knows colour theory

warnings none just atsumu using a lot of nicknames

"atsumu."

humming, your boyfriend turns his head around towards your direction and finds peace within your presence as you sauntered your way to him.

"this is a very important question okay?" an interrogating expression beholds itself on your face, but atsumu only stares at the features upon it like it was the first time he'd seen a human. "atsumu. i need your answer."

"yes 'm listening, sweets."

"what's your favourite colour?"

the adoring expression atsumu wore like a badge had wore off and transforms into what you could only assume was a perplexed man sitting in front of you. he laughs.

"atsumu! i told you to answer the question this is serious." his face puffs up with a vermillion tone and he pulls you closer to his body, thick arms around your waist fitting together like jigsaw pieces.

"darling, yer so earnest about it, of course i'll laugh." your face is peppered with billions of feathery kisses, swiping him away with your hands you attempt to push him away and sulk; only to make his offense stronger and kisses you more.

"miya, answer my damn question-"

"ooh, pulling out miya are we?" teasingly, he smirks and how attractive it is to watch that stupid man in front of you lovingly mock you.

"it's not that hard of a question to answer." crossing your arms and folding your legs, you move to the other side of the couch before he scooches towards you to gift a disgustingly fat and tender kiss on your cheek.

"okay, then what's yer favourite colour my love?"

"since i'm not like you," you humph annoyedly, "green."

"then simple, mine is red."

puzzled, you unfold your arms and atsumu's cheesy smiles widens in it itself, slightly beginning to look creepy so you push your palm against his face and move him away, and he laughs before coming in to hug you once more.

"they're complementary colours, baby. it's supposed to be romantic." chuckling, his face is attached to your stomach and he lays upon your body, although the position is awkward.

"it sounds like christmas. and what are complementary colours?" disproving his point and forgetting the reason why you asked him the question in the first place, you relax your body and sit up properly for atsumu to prop his head on your legs.

"they're like colours that are opposites but they're good together. like us. and what's wrong with christmas, scrooge?" twiddling your fingers between his, he mutters and awaits your response.

"that was corny, and you only enjoy christmas because you're not the one making the christmas list for all of our friends and family." flicking his head you scold him and he winces, before bringing your fingers back and trapping them in his hands.

"now i have an excuse to hold your hand as well as provide for my own safety!" he pauses for a moment, "hey i do help with christmas shopping."

"you chose to buy fuzzy dice for samu last year."

"that was a good 1800¥ spent."

"he doesn't even own a car."

"what matters is that we spend too much money on him and last year was a cool down compared to all the rocking gifts i've got him before."

"you know what, it's fine, i'll handle the shopping but you pay for it."

"i'll accept that. now, i need to go upstairs i have super secret agent stuff to attend." he kisses the top of your head and bolts upstairs.

"miya atsumu, i know you're changing the shopping basket gifts for samu! get back down here."

a/n: my exams are ending soon thank whoever is up there

[23:17] atsumu miya knows colour theory

warnings none just atsumu using a lot of nicknames

other timestamps

"atsumu."

humming, your boyfriend turns his head around towards your direction and finds peace within your presence as you sauntered your way to him.

"this is a very important question okay?" an interrogating expression beholds itself on your face, but atsumu only stares at the features upon it like it was the first time he'd seen a human. "atsumu. i need your answer."

"yes 'm listening, sweets."

"what's your favourite colour?"

the adoring expression atsumu wore like a badge had wore off and transforms into what you could only assume was a perplexed man sitting in front of you. he laughs.

"atsumu! i told you to answer the question this is serious." his face puffs up with a vermillion tone and he pulls you closer to his body, thick arms around your waist fitting together like jigsaw pieces.

"darling, yer so earnest about it, of course i'll laugh." your face is peppered with billions of feathery kisses, swiping him away with your hands you attempt to push him away and sulk; only to make his offense stronger and kisses you more.

"miya, answer my damn question-"

"ooh, pulling out miya are we?" teasingly, he smirks and how attractive it is to watch that stupid man in front of you lovingly mock you.

"it's not that hard of a question to answer." crossing your arms and folding your legs, you move to the other side of the couch before he scooches towards you to gift a disgustingly fat and tender kiss on your cheek.

"okay, then what's yer favourite colour my love?"

"since i'm not like you," you humph annoyedly, "green."

"then simple, mine is red."

puzzled, you unfold your arms and atsumu's cheesy smiles widens in it itself, slightly beginning to look creepy so you push your palm against his face and move him away, and he laughs before coming in to hug you once more.

"they're complementary colours, baby. it's supposed to be romantic." chuckling, his face is attached to your stomach and he lays upon your body, although the position is awkward.

"it sounds like christmas. and what are complementary colours?" disproving his point and forgetting the reason why you asked him the question in the first place, you relax your body and sit up properly for atsumu to prop his head on your legs.

"they're like colours that are opposites but they're good together. like us. and what's wrong with christmas, scrooge?" twiddling your fingers between his, he mutters and awaits your response.

"that was corny, and you only enjoy christmas because you're not the one making the christmas list for all of our friends and family." flicking his head you scold him and he winces, before bringing your fingers back and trapping them in his hands.

"now i have an excuse to hold your hand as well as provide for my own safety!" he pauses for a moment, "hey i do help with christmas shopping."

"you chose to buy fuzzy dice for samu last year."

"that was a good 1800¥ spent."

"he doesn't even own a car."

"what matters is that we spend too much money on him and last year was a cool down compared to all the rocking gifts i've got him before."

"you know what, it's fine, i'll handle the shopping but you pay for it."

"i'll accept that. now, i need to go upstairs i have super secret agent stuff to attend." he kisses the top of your head and bolts upstairs.

"miya atsumu, i know you're changing the shopping basket gifts for samu! get back down here."

a/n: my exams are ending soon thank whoever is up there

renaissance and rebirth. they’d seemed so easy for so long, something that oikawa toru could bask in underneath the sun, something he could hold and feel as they overtook him as easily as he could feel rain upon his open flesh.

water was meant to be rebirth, was it not? the ocean was meant to be his path to retribution, meant to swallow him whole and lap at the wounds that had trenched deep into his skin until they met his bone, and then he was meant to come out anew. he was meant to step out of the ocean as doubt washed off of him, he was meant to step into the depths of this earth and be released as an extension of this water and soil.

yet as the ocean pulls at his feet, as he watches the sand swirl beneath him, he feels no different. it’s silly now, to think that the earth would ever treat him as anything more than human, and yet he takes another step into the sea. he walks until it covers his calves, now, lets the water consume that part of his body as though it was only ever the ocean’s to have and to hold.

being human is a horribly fickle thing. he can feel the way the sun settles into his skin, he can feel the quiet breeze in his hair, the way the ocean pushes and pulls with every wave, and there is nothing more.

and yet, he is human and, despite this lack of rebirth, despite the way he is still the man he was before he wished for the ocean to overcome him, oikawa toru finds no need to beg.

he hears the way you step beside him in the water before he ever sees you settle next to him. the waves give to you, ripples moving around your joints and into the waters that crash against him.

and humanity reveals itself in moments like these, when oikawa’s chest tightens as your breath reaches his ears, as the sea salt air feels sweeter, a little more vivid in the sense that this is sure to be a memory—that as each moment passes it becomes nothing more than a suggestion in oikawa’s skull, and he will be sure to know the chill of his spine, the taste of the ocean, the twist of sunlight in your hair as well in five years as he does now.

humanity tends to reveal itself in the moments that define memories, not in the earthly waters, not in the wishes we have made for ourselves, and certainly not in the desire to let go that holds deep in the marrow of oikawa’s bones.

no, humanity is found in what tells him to stay.

“there,” you say, raising an index finger to the horizon. “a sailboat.” he follows your gaze and, sure enough, there rests what could only be described as the shadow of a sail deep in the ocean’s palm.

“good eye,” he replies, and then returns to you once more. you’ve always drawn him to you, as though you were a whisper he was desperately trying to hear—he could only wish to be close enough to you to know each of your secrets, to know the way you work as well as he knew the ground beneath his feet.

and yes, humanity is in his moments of memory, and yes, humanity is in the way he can feel the sun, the sand, the water, the breeze, but most importantly yes, his humanity is grounded in the rapture he finds in you.

“iwa would be surprised to find you so quiet, toru,” you say, and as always, he leans in closer to hear you speak.

“it’d be heartbreaking for him, i’m sure,” he muses, and he’s sure to catch the way you stifle laughter with your breath.

and this is what rapture feels like.

“for him to miss it? certainly.”

he rolls his eyes at you, and then you knock your shoulder into his, sending him off balance. he grabs onto you as he sways, watching as the water flows between the two of you, but of course you laugh while he pulls on your arm, bringing him back up to where he once stood. he doesn’t take his hand off of you, and you don’t move to release him either. instead, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing you into him with a quiet ease.

neither one dares to speak again. the ocean seems to flow around you, melding you together until you feel more like one body than two. and perhaps humanity is something like this, a silence in understanding, the moments after laughter, the soreness after a smile.

oikawa leans down and presses his lips against your bare shoulder, kissing your flesh in uneven certainty. the movement is unpracticed, unfamiliar, and, in its most delicate form, human.

and perhaps it is not perfection, a lack of doubt, a need for renaissance and rebirth from the ocean that could ever scrape the humanity from oikawa’s bones. perhaps there is nothing that could dare to remove what could be from the wounds entrenched in his skin. and perhaps, most importantly, it is you that will remind him of this piece of humanity.

CRYING?????? ME??? MAYBE

people and their egos.

genre. angst

main characters. gojo satoru, gn!reader

wc. 0.5k

a/n. not proofread btw,,, made this at 2am</3 this was mostly inspired by the tiktok sound thingy so like uhm yeah

you're not sure what time it really is right now. 10pm? 9pm? 12am? you don't know, but you're tired. you want to rest. you want to shut your bedroom door, hide under the covers and just sleep till the sun rises and sets. you want to sleep forever.

the house is silent. you are silent and so is satoru.

a normal person would apologize, say that he or she was at fault and say they would never do it again.

a person with a big ego? keep quiet. and that was what the both of you were doing right now.

you're seated on the couch, eyes shut and face buried in your hands as you taste the salty tears that had trickled down your eyes. satoru is standing at the kitchen counter, hands resting on it with his head down.

he sighs, "look, let's not do this today. we're both exhausted and clearly, not thinking straight. let's just—"

"i'm tired." you say, cutting him off. he nods at that, "so am i. so let's just sleep and—" you cut him off again, "no, satoru. i'm tired."

he looks over at you, eyes shivering as he evidently starts to panic a little. when he doesn't say anything, you look back up and meet his anxious eyes. you're pretty sure you look disgusting — messy hair, puffy, bloodshot eyes and cheeks tinted with dried up tears — but it's really the last thing you're concerned about.

"let's admit it, we do this every night. argue, run away from it, ignore each other then argue again. it's..." you trail off, scoffing ridiculously, "...immature of us. with our big-ass egos, we'll never make this work."

satoru gulps, hurrying towards you to kneel down in front of you as he grasps your hands in his. with tears welling up in his pretty blue eyes, satoru utters softly with a cracked voice, "okay, then let's not run away, hm? i apologize okay? i shouldn't have been late again and i should have at least texted you. so don't say that. don't—" he brings your hands up to his lips, pecking it, "—don't do this, please? i love you so much."

your heart tears at the sight. sniffling, you smile thankfully, apologizing as well, "i'm sorry too. i shouldn't have just screamed at you the moment you got home 'cause you were stressed and all." he smiles at you, seemingly sighing of relief as he responds, "i love you."

for a moment, it's just like the beginning. when the both of you had simply talked things out and made up easily. until it doesn't.

grinning painfully, you nod as you peck his forehead, "i love you too," he smiles. "but i can't."

his smile fades, "no. we can get through this. you're not alone. we said we would solve everything together so, don't." he pleads, hand gripping yours tighter and tighter.

"satoru, don't you see? we're just apologizing for the sake of it. this will never end. you and i, we're-we're never going to work out. not anymore." you say, pulling away and avoiding his gaze. at the end of the day, the same cycle would always repeat. it didn't matter if the both of you had put aside your egos. in the end, this was never going to work.

"but, i love you." satoru croaks, helpless, "and so do you. so why? why are you letting go?"

right, he loves you and you love him too. all the more, you should let go. because if you didn't do so now, it'll just gradually worsen.

"sometimes—" you smile sadly at him, looking away from his gorgeous eyes that fill with tears. he drops your and hand and onto the ground, crying.

"—loving each other, just isn't enough."

© all rights reserved. all content belongs to iwaizumri 2021.

[22:07] megumi fushiguro is whipped

warnings none

"megumi, look, they fell asleep on your shoulder." nobara points out eagerly as she turns to her left side only to notice that you, megumi's one and only, has fallen asleep on his shoulder during the bus journey home.

megumi carefully rotates his head and looks down to see you fast asleep, your mouth slightly agape and eyes tight shut.

"look he's going red!" yuuji teases, and guffaws with nobara as the two of them ridicule megumi's love struck stare.

"shut up," he hisses, "you'll wake them up."

nobara and yuuji "ooooh" facetiously before closing their mouths entirely when you begin to shift from your comfortable position on megumi's shoulder and wake up.

you're silent, and you don't say anything. there's a loud silence and you kiss your teeth and rub your eyes, before realising you didn't know what you were awake for; maybe someone was too loud.

so you close your eyes again and snuggle against the pillow you'd used when you fell asleep earlier and wrap your hands around the armchair.

megumi burns a crimson red as you unconsciously sleep on him, holding his forearm with your hands and pressing your face against his shoulder.

"shit." he mutters silently, and he can't see anything except you. maybe watching you sleep made him tired too, so surely, he laid his head upon yours and held your hand that was on his arm, and slept peacefully too.

stupefied, nobara and yuuji make o's with their mouth and stare at each other, and back at the tired couple.

"what the fuck." although being a pair, yuuji and nobara felt third wheeled and cleared their throats before being interrupted by the white haired adult behind them.

"ah young love."

a/n: a bit short but eh

[22:07] megumi fushiguro is whipped

warnings none

other timestamps

"megumi, look, they fell asleep on your shoulder." nobara points out eagerly as she turns to her left side only to notice that you, megumi's one and only, has fallen asleep on his shoulder during the bus journey home.

megumi carefully rotates his head and looks down to see you fast asleep, your mouth slightly agape and eyes tight shut.

"look he's going red!" yuuji teases, and guffaws with nobara as the two of them ridicule megumi's love struck stare.

"shut up," he hisses, "you'll wake them up."

nobara and yuuji "ooooh" facetiously before closing their mouths entirely when you begin to shift from your comfortable position on megumi's shoulder and wake up.

you're silent, and you don't say anything. there's a loud silence and you kiss your teeth and rub your eyes, before realising you didn't know what you were awake for; maybe someone was too loud.

so you close your eyes again and snuggle against the pillow you'd used when you fell asleep earlier and wrap your hands around the armchair.

megumi burns a crimson red as you unconsciously sleep on him, holding his forearm with your hands and pressing your face against his shoulder.

"shit." he mutters silently, and he can't see anything except you. maybe watching you sleep made him tired too, so surely, he laid his head upon yours and held your hand that was on his arm, and slept peacefully too.

stupefied, nobara and yuuji make o's with their mouth and stare at each other, and back at the tired couple.

"what the fuck." although being a pair, yuuji and nobara felt third wheeled and cleared their throats before being interrupted by the white haired adult behind them.

"ah young love."

a/n: a bit short but eh

I THOUGJT IT WAS RN E ONLY ONE

uhm is it just me or my tumblr font got sized down 🤨 it looks like the small font now ???

mutuals who you think are too cool for you so you periodically check to see if they're still following you. im normal

crying omfg

It's a terrible day for rain

Man. Angst seems to be all I can write these days. Much thanks to a friend of mine who beta read this fic for me.

“Ne, Toru. You think one day we will be just like them? Start a family together? Have children, watch them grow up…” your voice trails off, watching a family of three play by the water.

The sun shines down, bathing the both of you in its golden glow. A small break in between missions is all the time he can get to spend with you, so most of the time your dates are simply taking walks with him.

“I’m sure we will,” he ruffles your hair, a small smile gracing his features. “Little Gojos running around the house, climbing all over you, won’t that be a sight to see.”

His hand slides over, long fingers intertwined with yours. His palm is warm, his touch gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin. You look up at him, confused as he places a feather light kiss to your knuckles, cheek and finally your lips.

“Any chance you have an extra heart? Mine’s been stolen!” he flashes you a cheeky grin, laughing as he dodges your attempt to slap him.

“That was so cheesy!” you yell. “At least try a little harder!”

“That’s all it took for you to fall for me though,” he hums. You can tell that his bright blue eyes are sparkling in mischief behind the blindfold. You don't need to see them to know what he’s feeling.

You laugh, smiling ever so brightly at him, words forming on your lips that are now lost to him.

The sound of rain fills his ears, and the water slowly turns red beneath his feet. He lifts his gaze to its source - a body, slumped against the wall stained with their blood. Crimson droplets fall from his fingers as he crouches, reaching over to brush back the hair covering their eyes. His finger shakily trails down their stone cold cheek, leaving a red streak behind.

Your body is cold, so cold. He’s not sure if the rain has made you colder, or if bodies of loved ones naturally felt colder than others, but all he can focus on is the fact that you’re just so cold, a far cry from the warmth he felt each time he hugged you tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against your lifeless face. He knows nothing will ever bring you back, least of all an empty apology. Saying it does nothing to alleviate the pain in his heart either.

“Gojo…” Utahime’s strained voice sounds behind him. He simply stands up, sliding his blindfold back on.

“We’re done here,” his voice betrays none of the turbulent emotions he feels as he walks away, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Ichiji remains silent as Gojo throws himself into the backseat of the car, slouching against the now wet leather seat.

“Home,” he says, nothing more. Ichiji doesn’t question anything. He knows of today’s mission, and from the looks of it, it was a success. If you could call it one.

The rest of the car ride is filled with silence, Gojo staring out of the window while Ichiji focuses on driving, leaving the sorcerer to grieve in peace. The sound of wipers clearing droplets of rain from the windshield is somehow noisier than usual, the high pitched squeaks piercing Gojo’s eardrums, reminding him of how alone he is now.

When your house slides into view, Gojo suddenly leans forward and says sharply, “No. Keep going. Drive to Jujutsu High.”

Surprised, Ichiji gives a quick nod, stepping on the accelerator again. Gojo flops back against the car seat, lifelessly watching your house pass by him in a blur. He can’t go back there anymore, not after he’s taken your life with his own hands.

Why’d you become a curse user? Why’d you turn against jujutsu society? Why’d you turn against him?

His hands begin to shake uncontrollably, memories of your last moments flashing through his mind. The way you were aiming for his throat, ready to kill, eyes filled with hate he never thought he’d see directed at him.

He had no choice. He had to put you down. In self-defense and to protect jujutsu society. Or so he keeps telling himself.

“I hate the higher-ups,” you mutter, kicking a small rock on the ground.

He raises an eyebrow at you, arm sliding around your waist, “oh, why?”

“I know what they’re trying to do by sending us on individual missions that are as far away from each other as possible. They want to separate us and take us out because they consider our relationship a threat,” you suddenly stop, looking up at him.

“I don’t want this stupid power play to continue,” you frown.

“Neither do I,” Gojo sighs. The both of you knew it was highly dangerous to get into a relationship and yet decided to take the risk, something he never regretted. You always brought a spark of joy into his life and made him feel like he could simply be Satoru, even if it was for brief moments at a time.

Each second he spent with you was a second where the burden of being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer was lifted from his shoulders, for he knew you were more than willing to help shoulder that responsibility.

“If only it was as simple as killing all of them,” you sigh, resting your head against his chest. He hugs you tighter in response, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“We will change this corrupt jujutsu society. One day we will have that happy family we dream of,” he whispers into your ear.

“I promise.”

So what went wrong along the way?

One moment you were happily stealing as much cotton candy from him as possible and the next you were out for his blood, mercilessly slaughtering any jujutsu sorcerer that stood in your way. What had happened during your last mission?

He couldn’t shake the fight from his memory. The way you refused to talk it out with him, your cursed energy baying for his blood as he did all he could to dodge your frenzied attacks whilst ensuring that he didn’t hurt you. That was the first time Gojo Satoru had ever been afraid in a fight, but it wasn’t for himself. He was afraid for you.

“Don’t get in my way!” you snarl, pushing his arm away and sending a burst of cursed energy at him. He dodges with ease, trying once again to grab your arm but you throw every last ounce of your jujutsu technique at him, wrestling your arm free.

“Calm down babe! Talk to me! What’s going on? We can get through this together!” he reaches out to you and once again you brush him off.

“Shut up! Either you stand aside and let me pass or you die alongside everyone else!” blood pours down your face from injuries sustained from earlier fights and into your eyes. Wiping it only causes the crimson liquid to be further smeared on your face and you spit out the blood that has trickled into your mouth.

“You’re already badly injured. I don’t want to hurt you any further,” Gojo frowns, throwing up Infinity to block all of your attacks.

You’re not thinking straight, he notes, as you continue to throw everything you have at him. Under normal circumstances, you would have cast domain amplification to override his Infinity but at present you hadn’t done so.

“Well that’s unfortunate,” you growl. “Because I have no qualms about hurting you!”

In your angry haze, your slip ups occur far more frequently and Gojo takes the opportunity to lock you in a choke hold.

“The higher ups have tasked me to kill you.”

He feels you tense against him, and for a split second he can see fear in your eyes but anger quickly returns as you spit your next words out like venom.

“So that’s what you’re here for? To kill me?”

“I don’t want to,” he releases you to prove his point, hands raised in surrender now that you’ve calmed down more. You slide into our fighting stance, eyes narrowed in suspicion but you’ve stopped trying to kill him. That’s a win in his book.

“So what are you here for?”

“To ask what happened that made them suddenly want you dead.”

You take a step forward, letting out a tired sigh.

“I killed someone important. They were trying to isolate me then kill me and pretend as though I died on the mission. But they underestimated my abilities. That’s why I’ve been branded as a traitor,” your cursed energy levels drop to a bare minimum as you slump against him, exhausted.

“You can’t do anything about it. Not as one person, no matter who you are. Because it’s undeniable that I killed an important jujutsu sorcerer, which is treason against jujutsu society.”

“No. I will find a way. I can’t lose you,” he shakes his head desperately. “You’re all I have left.”

“Toru. You have to leave me behind. For the sake of the new jujutsu world we dream of. I know you think you can't do it, but you have to move on. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my side of our promise,” you smile, cupping his cheek.

Taking a few steps back, you ready yourself for the fight to resume. You close your eyes and recall each and every time the higher ups stood in your way of a happy life with the man you love, letting the emotions consume you.

Your cursed energy levels spike once again, flooding your entire body. When your eyes opened for the last time, the unending anger has drowned everything else out.

“So, please forgive me.”

Back at Jujutsu High, he finds the small red box he meant to give you when you came back from your mission and opens it, staring at the thin metal band that lies within. The diamond inlaid in the metal no longer glimmers in the backdrop of the pouring rain, bringing fresh tears to his swollen eyes.

Letting out a broken yell, he throws both the box and ring out of the window, collapsing onto his bed.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs, hugging his knees to his chest and bowing his head.

But sorry can’t bring you back.

[03:10] gojou satoru is a loving stranger

warnings none

taking a deep breath, you recognise the man before you and everything comes rushing back; the memories, the jokes, the dates, all down to the last moment until you had broken up. yet that tingly feeling in your chest no longer lingered as it had done so in the past, but rather a sense of relief rested carefully against your lungs and you smile.

"...satoru." his ears perk up at the familar notes of your voice, and it's almost as if he's met you all over again. the memories flood back to him, euphoria flowing through his veins as he examines your features and how you've changed.

"y/n."

"it's been a while right?" soft spoken and gentle, nothing like how you were before; loud and outgoing, ready to hand over your opinion against someone who you thought was wrong.

"yeah, six or seven years. you look great." tapping his foot awkwardly, he's unsure as to how to fulfill the conversation, maybe it was because it had been so long, and seeing you now looked like it was the last time you would ever interact.

"thank you, uh you haven't aged since college." a new wrinkle line has formed beneath your nose, and above your lips; maybe an indication that you've been happier these days. your eyes are more genuine, and there's more life shining through it compared to the stress inducing days of your young adulthood.

maybe five years with each other wasn't enough, because satoru couldn't seem to recognise the person before him. you were so mature now, your fashion was so much more trim instead of the surplus oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that you'd sport in the light of day. there was a cup of black coffee in your hands too, a beverage you'd told him so many times you despised because of the overbearing scent and the bitter flavour. even your hair was longer, with your roots a different colour to the tips. the silence between you two was perplexing, since the mood was always bright or cacophonous, but in a sense that there were two people in their youth simply basking in the events of romance before adulthood would come whisking them away.

seven years away from satoru had most definitely transformed you, from a vociferous 20 something year old coming home at the crack of dawn with their partner after a night out to an adult in their early 30s, wondering when work is over so they have time to take a nap at home and possibly slip in the time to watch some tv. the priorities you had once fixed for yourself had changed once you and satoru had broken up, and you were more in order, administrative. seven years ago, you would've loathed the person you became, you would've mocked this new person, with satoru alongside you probably fiddling with your hair. but now you remember how immature you were seven years ago, and that this change was good for you, and that silence can be comforting rather than awkward.

"so what are you doing here, i thought you hated libraries?" as excruciatingly pesky satoru had found small talk, it seemed there was no other method to communicate with you.

"ah, i'm here to meet a friend. but i could say the same about you, what are you doing here?"

"oh, just finding some books to recommend to my students." he holds up a philosophy book, by some german philosopher whose name you couldn't pronounce.

"you used to hate students."

"and you used to hate the library."

you both chuckle internally, and before you head in different directions, you quickly turn around and say:

"sato- gojou san?" the sudden realisation that you hadn't seen him in years had taken away your rights to address him by his first name.

"yeah?" his stare is unfamiliar, like he's looking at a stranger, someone he was never on an emotional journey with, someone who never helped him grow.

"it was nice seeing you." 26 muscles and your lips are pulled to an angle that used to bring joy into satoru's life, but are now only given for courtesy.

"yeah, it was nice seeing you too."

a/n: there's nothing special ab this, i think i just wanted to show how two people who used to adore the existence of one another can turn into old strangers that you would seldom speak to

[03:10] gojou satoru is a loving stranger

warnings light angst, reader and gojo are broken up

other timestamps

taking a deep breath, you recognise the man before you and everything comes rushing back; the memories, the jokes, the dates, all down to the last moment until you had broken up. yet that tingly feeling in your chest no longer lingered as it had done so in the past, but rather a sense of relief rested carefully against your lungs and you smile.

"...satoru." his ears perk up at the familar notes of your voice, and it's almost as if he's met you all over again. the memories flood back to him, euphoria flowing through his veins as he examines your features and how you've changed.

"y/n."

"it's been a while right?" soft spoken and gentle, nothing like how you were before; loud and outgoing, ready to hand over your opinion against someone who you thought was wrong.

"yeah, six or seven years. you look great." tapping his foot awkwardly, he's unsure as to how to fulfill the conversation, maybe it was because it had been so long, and seeing you now looked like it was the last time you would ever interact.

"thank you, uh you haven't aged since college." a new wrinkle line has formed beneath your nose, and above your lips; maybe an indication that you've been happier these days. your eyes are more genuine, and there's more life shining through it compared to the stress inducing days of your young adulthood.

maybe five years with each other wasn't enough, because satoru couldn't seem to recognise the person before him. you were so mature now, your fashion was so much more trim instead of the surplus oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that you'd sport in the light of day. there was a cup of black coffee in your hands too, a beverage you'd told him so many times you despised because of the overbearing scent and the bitter flavour. even your hair was longer, with your roots a different colour to the tips. the silence between you two was perplexing, since the mood was always bright or cacophonous, but in a sense that there were two people in their youth simply basking in the events of romance before adulthood would come whisking them away.

seven years away from satoru had most definitely transformed you, from a vociferous 20 something year old coming home at the crack of dawn with their partner after a night out to an adult in their early 30s, wondering when work is over so they have time to take a nap at home and possibly slip in the time to watch some tv. the priorities you had once fixed for yourself had changed once you and satoru had broken up, and you were more in order, administrative. seven years ago, you would've loathed the person you became, you would've mocked this new person, with satoru alongside you probably fiddling with your hair. but now you remember how immature you were seven years ago, and that this change was good for you, and that silence can be comforting rather than awkward.

"so what are you doing here, i thought you hated libraries?" as excruciatingly pesky satoru had found small talk, it seemed there was no other method to communicate with you.

"ah, i'm here to meet a friend. but i could say the same about you, what are you doing here?"

"oh, just finding some books to recommend to my students." he holds up a philosophy book, by some german philosopher whose name you couldn't pronounce.

"you used to hate students."

"and you used to hate the library."

you both chuckle internally, and before you head in different directions, you quickly turn around and say:

"sato- gojou san?" the sudden realisation that you hadn't seen him in years had taken away your rights to address him by his first name.

"yeah?" his stare is unfamiliar, like he's looking at a stranger, someone he was never on an emotional journey with, someone who never helped him grow.

"it was nice seeing you." 26 muscles and your lips are pulled to an angle that used to bring joy into satoru's life, but are now only given for courtesy.

"yeah, it was nice seeing you too."

a/n: there's nothing special ab this, i think i just wanted to show how two people who used to adore the existence of one another can turn into old strangers that you would seldom speak to

Please Reblog is Your Blog is Safe for Non-Binary People.

If my mutuals can’t rb this then we can’t be mutuals

.(not) falling for you - gojo satoru

.pairings gojo satoru x fem!reader

.genre unrequited love [a]

.ongoing | completed

.tw mentions of violence, blood, and death, also contains manga spoilers

.wc; 3.6k

SUMMARY

Satoru was a perfect guy, in every way possible, and had everything he wanted, except you.

Gojou Satoru. The notorious playboy. Well known for his good looks and extraordinary skills. Not only was he blessed with these beautiful looks, he holds the most cursed energy known within the Jujutsu society, and has inherited two of the most powerful techniques known to sorcerer: Limitless, and Infinity. Alongside carrying these techniques, he's become a holder of the Six Eyes after four hundred years.

His immense strength brought envy and admiration from those around him, leaving him to be lucky to be born with such wealth and adoration growing up. All those around him had given him such extreme names, like “The King of Sorcerers”, or the new “God” of jujutsu society, but neither of those names nor the others had fed so much into his complex as much as the one you gave him. “The Strongest.”

The two of you met in high school, having been put together for a mission with his best friends, Getou Suguru and Ieiri Shoko, and immediately clicked, what with your indistinguishable personalities. Everyone thought the both of you were extremely compatible, your personalities fitting perfectly with one another. During the days that you felt sick, he was sick too, on the days he felt like he was over the moon, you were on an emotional equilibrium to him. People said you were telepathically connected, or soulmates, meant to be and whatnot. The two of you were were an ultimate pair, made for one another.

So why didn't you love him? Why did you not feel the same way he did about you? Why did you not get butterflies in your stomach he did so little as breathe? Why was his world turned upside down when you did so much as wave a hello in his direction, but the atmosphere of yours stayed the same, when he would hug you. Was it the fact that he was too tall? Annoying? Similar to you? Or was it that he wasn't Suguru?

Was it the fact that he didn't have the same dark locks as him, or the bland expression he kept on his face at all times, or maybe it was because when he smiled, your heart would do flips. Satoru loved his best friend, truly, he did, but Suguru's existence stopped you from falling for him and conforming to everyone's dreams of the elegant Tsukumo family and the legendary Gojou family conjoining (and possibly even his dreams of marrying you and having a future together.)

He had it all, the money, looks, love, and the skill, but none of it would measure up to anything until you would fall for him. And every day got harder for him as he watched you and Suguru lay in each other's arms after each mission, feeling like you had grabbed his guts and twisted them inside his body, laughing, with Suguru by your side.

So the day that you found out Suguru had massacred the village, and ran away, you fell apart, with Satoru by your side as a pillar. As selfish as it was, he thought it was his only chance to get you to fall for him. He'd visit you every day, checking up on your condition, and brought you whatever you pleased, like a servant to their master.

For years he's pined after you, but not once have you noticed even a crumb of his overwhelming fondness for even the shortest breaths you took, even if you did, it seemed as though you had brushed him off, with an inability to move on from your high school sweetheart that had long gone years before. His patience was wearing thin and he began to get bolder during the times you were together, who wouldn't? After all, he's loved you since the day you met.

Becoming teachers together at Jujutsu Tech had plastered a smile on his face to last a lifetime. To be able to see you every day for several hours, to be able to see you smile around the students, to be able to see you be, well you, would be enough to make him happy. He had practically begged Yaga and Principal Gakuganji to let you teach the first years with him, despite being assigned with the second years and the higher ups.

You were a meticulous colleague, punctual, polite, respectful, and kept a good reputation within the school, gaining acclamation from the students, and other teachers. But despite this calm exterior, you were an enjoyable person to be around, with a bubbly personality and an outgoing demeanour, knowing just what to say in moments of need. You were perfect for him.

With the two of you having a playful relationship, it was easy for him to openly display his affection for you, without you tossing him to the side as if he made you uncomfortable. Nevertheless, you only thought of Satoru as a good friend, and couldn't see anything further happening with him. There were several instances where you had tried to imagine a romantic relationship with him, but it had never felt right. Despite his breathtaking appearance, it could never proportion to the same measurement of flourishing love you carried for Suguru.

Getou Suguru, well known to everyone as the trustworthy best friend of Gojou Satoru, the good ol' sidekick, but to you he was the sun in which you, the earth, orbited around. Everything about him, it all fit like puzzle pieces into your life, he sat snug in the center of your heart like a masterpiece on display. It was well known that you had loved him so dearly, and would risk yourself at the chance of saving him. But it was also known that you could kill for him any chance he asked you to. The days without him began to lead your thoughts to an unfathomable future of dying alone in your bed, with his clothes in your arms as proof of his impact in your life and how he had left it.

The nights felt longer and the days almost became a chore, life became harder to live, with only so much strength alive you could die. Satoru noticed. Your smile would rot away as soon as it existed, crossed off onto the list which recorded the rest of your fake smiles. He noticed how you slowly lost enthusiasm within your passions, and it broke him to do nothing but watch you ruin yourself.

It was all Suguru's fault, everything went wrong because of him. If he had never existed, then maybe it would be him holding you in his arms as you slept through the night, maybe it would've be him whispering sweet nothings as you did your homework in the study hall at lunch, maybe it would've been him that you cried over for almost a decade. But alas, life doesn't bend the way we choose it to. But God, Satoru could never wish for the banishing of his best friend's existence like that, not when he knew that Suguru's disappearance had damaged him too.

He's suffered too, Satoru carried his own weights of grief after Suguru's disappearance. He too, felt as though there was a hole in his heart, an empty void, which no one could fulfill the same way Suguru could. After all, they were best friends. Losing someone precious to you can do more than just a few months of grief. It can mend relationships, break them, form them, or bloom them. So an endeavour on winning your heart and blooming a relationship, Satoru did. Succeed he didn't. You rejected him in a cold manner, much to his dismay, and avoided his presence or the mention of his name for several days.

“No, I just don't see you like that, and I'm still in love with him.” Even the mention of his name would tug at your heartstrings, so the substitute of 'him' was used more comfortably between the two of you.

You shoved past him, going to your next mission, telling him that the two of you were going to be late, wearing an expression he couldn't analyse in the same way he saw the others. And it didn't sit right with him.

“Y/N wait-” he turned around and he was too late, you were already off to your mission, and turning the corner.

The sight was horrific, Kyoto looked as if it was going to fall apart. What kind of curse was this? You stared in fear, afraid of what you'd find if you ventured further into the city, on your way to look for Nobara, Megumi and Yuuji. before taking another step forward, a familiar warmth wrapped around your wrist and you turn around, facing Satoru.

“Hey uh, I know these past few days have been a little weird, but you're still one of my bestest friends, I just want you to be safe out there, okay? Please?” His eyes trembling as his lips mustered up a smile in, hopes of reassuring you.

“I know Satoru, and thank you, I will be safe. how about after this we go get some drinks, this is gonna be a long mission.” You smiled back, bringing a light back into his life.

You trekked through the city, on your way to find the three young students, practically trembling in the case that they may have possibly died. But that couldn't happen, no they were far too strong, with so much potential, especially for their age. As you progressed on your way, the more dilapidated the state of the department store looked, windows shattered, mannequins melted, and fire alarms flashing. There was so much going on, you almost felt dizzy, but the students were a bigger priority and it would be on you if they were dead or missing.

On the other side of the store, Satoru did his own searching, but not for the students, rather the cursed spirit who was roaming free in the building. He worried for your safety, and prayed that it hadn't found you before he could. The scent of smoke and the fumes of the fire wafted around Satoru and a foggy atmosphere built up around him, causing his guard to heighten as well as his senses. He needed to protect everyone. He needed to protect you.

A familar body flew- no, was thrown through one of the shopping windows, and you dashed towards them, noticing the mess of black hair, belonging to the first year, Fushiguro Megumi

“Fushiguro!” You picked up his limp figure, shaking him awake, and horizontally placed your index finger beneath his nostrils, checking for any signs of life, and let out a sigh of relief when the hairs on your fingers were tickled by a warm breath of air.

“Itadori, and Kugisaki, they're hurt-” He sputtered, coughing out blood.

“But so are you, come on, get on my back, I'll find them.” You slung him onto your back, and slowly attempted to stand up as you made your way to find the other teenagers.

Only to be met with an unghastly sight. The cursed spirit was so strong, it could've been mistaken for a special grade. It wasn't. It wasn't even a cursed spirit. it was the love of your life, the man of your dreams, Suguru Getou. You almost let the boy on your back slip off of your arms, before you gently placed him down in a safe area, where he was refrained from further injury.

“SーSuguru?” Your heart skipped, no drove at a speed over a thousand miles an minute. He looked so different, so mature, he didn't look like, Suguru.

“Ah, Y/N dear, hello it's been a while.” He smiled devilishly, and the man before you became unfamiliar, even from the way he held himself up, he seemed like a completely different person, what happened?

“What are you doing here?” you choked up, your eyesight was becomjng blurry, blinded by the tears building up onto your face.

“What do you think? To save Kyoto? Good gracious, no.” His smirk pulled up even further, yet it intimidated you with each passing second. who was this man before you, and what had he done to Suguru?

Your mind flashed back to the memories of going to Tokyo Jujutsu with Satoru, Suguru and Ieiri. And your heart ached with greed, oh, how you begged just to go back in time and re-live those memories, experiencing the same tingly feeling when you learned about being a sorceror, or maybe the palpitations in your heart after you finished a mission, filled with relief, knowing you had survived. And how you wished to stand by Suguru's side again, as you had done so all those years ago.

But you couldn't. And you can't.

You're older now, much more mature, and despite it taking years and years of grief and denial, you had finally learned to detach yourself from the gut wrenching memories you had kept buried in the back of your mind like a sin. You had finally realised everyone grows different as time passes by, and not everything was a constant, so as Suguru stepped closer to your figure, with his cursed energy practically leaking from his aura, you straightened your back and finally got into position.

"I'm going to stop you before you even try to make things worse.” You condensed your energy into your core, feeling your technique build up inside your body as your senses grew and your guard heightened. You had to protect the kids.

“I'd like to see you try, my love.”

Meanwhile Satoru, was still searching the store, unaware of the fact that you had already discovered the "cursed spirit" and the first years. His mind wandered to the most inexplainable places, distracting himself from the possibilities that you may be injured.

"My, my, if it isn't the one and only, Satoru Gojou," his ears perked up, listening to the devious tone behind him; Mahito. “We've been looking for you.”

“We?” A mundane expression carved across his face and his lips brought up to a disgusted chagrin.

"You could at least have a little bit more enthusiasm, goodness, I should've taken the girl." A bitter chuckle taunts Satoru, feeling some sort of tension grow as Mahito brings up the "girl".

"What girl?"

"It's a shame, you know, because I really didn't want to go up against you today, but no, Getou-kun had to get the girl, don't you think he's greedy-" Satory charged himself towards Mahito, finding a method to touch his soul and eventually subdue him, in order to find Suguru.

He was alive? what was he going to do if you found out? Would you go back to him? Where are you right now?

He made haste and explored around the labyrinth of a building, just to find the familiar pink mop of hair, laying tiredly a little further away from a girl with a brown bob cut.

"Yuuji, Nobara!" The relief in his tone was evident, and he crouched down to check on his students, just to see them barely breathing. "Where's Megumi?"

"Sensei, Y/N sensei." Nobara choked out, struggling to form a coherent phrase, and mobilised enough strength to point a finger in the direction she presumed you and Megumi were in. "There's, there's a man, with black long hair, in Jujutsu uniform."

Satoru's heart fell to his stomach. You were reunited, in one of the worst ways possible at that. You probably ran into his arms like a teenage girl again, and he probably reciprocated that action and held you tight in his arms, like he never left.

Oh how he wished he saw that instead.

Upon his arrival, everything was in shambles, even moreso than before. He darted his eyes with vigilance and thought time had stopped.

There you laid, bloodied and battered, almost unidentifiable. You could be labelled dead by default, with your hair disheveled and your face bruised with crimson and mauve. Broken bones were visible on your figure, with your arms shattered and positioned in one of the most uncomfortable poses. And he hated that. His heart burned, and his chest tightened, feeling as if his ribcage had slowly began crushing his organs, hindering his aptness to inhale. Satoru was used to having his breath taken away by you, but never in this lifetime did he expect for Suguru to take your last. But where did he even go?

It was as if his mission was to kill you and take a run for it, but for what reason? The two of you loved, no, yearned for one another's presence and could probably tell the time of the day just by looking into each other's eyes. You were the ones that were connected, soulmates, meant to be, or whatever it was. So did Suguru revoke from his words to love you eternally, just as you had done so all those years ago. Maybe that was why. It was so many years ago.

"Gojou-sensei?" A small croak echoed in the sombre building, and he turned his head around so swiftly, he felt that his neck would break.

"Megumi." He finally helped the boy up, who was still in the same state that you had put him down in, before laying your life down for the one that you loved.

"She's, she's still breathing, I saw her."

That little glint of hope, that short sentence. It was more than sufficient to get Satoru coming your way, to place your slack body upon his thighs. For once, the one and only Satoru Gojou, had cried. He carefully removed the strands of hair covering your face, ever so gently, and looked at your wheezing condition.

"Satoru, I'm so, so, sorry," you whispered out, only because your blood began to ooze on Satoru's uniform, and had nothing but incompetence to try and clean it away with your shattered arms. "I'm getting blood all over you, aren't I?" He nods weakly, with his lips trembling and eyes glistening, which was unknown to your knowledge, as he kept the blindfold on, thinking it could mask his emotions better.

"You're gonna be okay. I know you will, you're Y/N of the Tsukumo family. You guys are invincible!" Hysterical was one word to describe Satoru, but of course it was an understatement, because the first and foremost thing he could focus on, was the fact that you were bleeding out into his arms.

"I'm not you, stop saying that, just hold me for a bit, okay?" A toothy, bloody but toothy, grin displayed upon your face, and a hum of approval emitted from Satoru's lips.

Megumi could do so much as watch, as his teacher was fading away from his current life, and how his caretaker was a trainwreck, watching her slip right through his fingers.

"Satoru," he sniffled one last time before nodding. "Can you take your blindfold off? I want to see your pretty eyes." If you couldn't hear it then, you could hear it now; Satoru's sobs grew decibels louder within each second, and his heart almost cracked inside of his body.

"Yeah." he slips off the black fabric, and meets your eyes with his cerulean ones. Maybe it was the flashing lights in the store that made you crazy, but Satoru had looked exceptionally beautiful today, despite the development that was made.

"...That's good. You look wonderful, Satoru." All of the strength that you had hoarded within yourself, had finally vanished, and your body fell limp in his embrace.

"Y/N? Y/N? Are you there? Hey, you're fine, stop doing that. It's not a good joke, you can do this later, just wake up please." He remained in a mental dysfunction and thought that if he shook you conscious, you would open your eyes from your eternal slumber.

"Sensei, stop. She won't wake up." Megumi whinged as he got closer to the pair. "Get up, we need to find the others, before they get hurt too."

Megumi's words travelled like white noise to Satoru, and he disregarded them completely as he tried to wake up the corpse in his clutches. Something was amiss, you couldn't be dead, he refused it, there was no way you would die by the hands of your own lover. Yet knowing you, it was salient that you would rather to lose your life to someone you loved than to an abhorrent monster that would come to take innocent lives away.

"Please, just let me try and wake her up, I know she's awake, just...please." His words died away after realising the unusual lack of response from you. The roguish expression that masked Satoru's intentions was soon expunged from existence, the very moment he comprehended your passing. "Al-alright Megumi, let's go find the others."

It was impossible to leave you behind, so they didn't. Yuuji and Nobara gasped as Satoru carried your deceased state. Megumi trailed alongside him, helping his two friends up, before telling them to not ask questions so to respect Satoru's wishes of not having to acknowledge your death.

Four people, and one soul had left that building that day, and Satoru had vowed to never step in it as soon at it refurbished. Visits to your grave were frequent, and the headstone was cleaned weekly, so Satoru could read out your name, thinking it would speak you back into existence. nevertheless, you never turned up, only to leave him in an awkward presence with the wind blowing around him and the trees whistling to maybe soothe his excruciating injury.

Gojou Satoru. The notorious playboy. Well known for his good looks and extraordinary skills. Blessed with wealth and happiness all around him. He came into your world as a goofy pole of a man, with the attitude of a sassy child, and you left his as the woman who reached out for his heart, and crushed it with your bare hands.

a/n: i'm so sorry for putting this off for so long i hope this is okay but the ending was kinda rushed ://

mi amors im so so sorry for the inactivity i have huge exams coming up if i fail these im gonna burst into fat tears

HELP IM SO JEALOUS OF THESE CHARACTERS THEYRE NOT EVEN REAL

ive finished three young adult books in the span of three days i dont think this is right

THIS IS LITERALLY SO GOOD IM CRYING

Remember Me

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Warnings: angst, MAJOR character death (wouldn’t be aot without it ✌🏻), not proof-read, all hurt, no comfort :) my first levi post and I broke his heart hehe but this isn’t as sad as I originally intended so ?? Ig that’s nice ??

Aun en la distancia, nunca vayas a olvidar que yo contigo siempre voy, recuérdame…  

He had never meant to fall in love, for love in this world only brought hurt and agony to a soldier such as him; love was something he had learned to equate with loss, a ruthless grip in his chest that forced him awake most nights, only to haunt him with the faces of those he once knew, ones now covered in blood; a crimson so similar to the sight that forever stained his rough, war-torn, hands, something he had become more than acquainted with throughout his years.

It was due to this world and all the loss it saw that he had promised himself, with each fallen comrade and each grieving loved one, that he would no longer devote his heart to anything other than the cause, because despite being the world’s named strongest, it was a title never self-proclaimed. Levi was merely only a pawn in the wretched game of war, and there were only so many hits a wounded soldier could take before they turned fatal; he would no longer allow himself to be compromised by any weakness in his heart, it was something the world couldn’t afford.

This was a promise he had made to himself on a cold, lonely night where he sat hunched over at his desk with discomfort shooting throughout his spine; it was a promise he made as he sat there sobbing into his hands after signing yet another daunting stack of paperwork titled K.I.A; a symbol of loss that still cut deep no matter how many lives he had witnessed coming to their end, because how can one ever truly become accustomed to such tragic sight? Because no one was strong enough to withstand the horrid end that the scouts faced in the field, no one could witness such an atrocity and return without succumbing to the same darkness that plagued the silent hallways.

He had promised this to himself, to save himself from yet another tragic heartbreak.

Yet, it was a promise that you had somehow made him break.

Because, Levi had never meant to fall in love, but even so, he was not ashamed to admit that absolutely nothing could’ve stopped his heart from diving straight into a uncontrolled freefall just so it could crash right beside yours; because Levi had fallen in love with you, and how could he ever regret such a feeling when you looked at him with such a tender warmth swimming in your eyes?

You had made it so easy, that loving you was now as simple as breathing to him; you had made love so easy, that it was nothing to him now but second nature.

For you had shown him what true happiness could taste like, a refreshing taste that cleansed his palette from the bile and salt that burned him with every breath; it was his new favourite dish, though he would refuse to admit, the taste of you and your love was more delectable than any fine pastry or any expensive tea, and he consumed it all greedily like a man starved.

You, always so warm like the sun on a beautiful summers day, had melted the high walls of ice that had encompassed his aching heart with just a small smile as you brought him his evening tea; he had never felt so light nor so free other than when you beamed at him with a simple yet gentle, “go to sleep soon, Captain, your health is important too.”

You had shown him that you would be contently patient, waiting for him to be ready for every next step and never being thrown off by his strong, cold exterior; you made him feel worth it at every possible corner, showing him that he was in fact a person worth staying for; and whilst he was hopeless in telling you just how thankful he was for that patient perseverance you had dedicated to him, words always seeming to fail him when it mattered most, he could tell with each adoring look that you gifted him, that you knew all along.

It was all this together with your heartbeat, which had quickly become his favourite song, a soothing lullaby on nights filled with nightmares and no sleep, had finally shown him the meaning of true peace. It was the melody of your heart that chased away the bad thoughts and haunting screams to which he knew that with your heart’s simple beat, all he would be able to hear now was the beautiful chorus of security and adoration your love had granted him.

So, with soft caresses and gentle words, Levi had slowly found himself floating in a daydream where only you and him existed, protected with the safety of your dedication to one another.

But silly little daydreams don’t last long, not if you are Levi Ackerman.

And he was a fool for thinking maybe this would be different, maybe you would be different, that he could keep you by his side until his very last breath, because nothing could ever change the fact that Levi Ackerman was a man destined to be alone; a man destined and subjected to watch all those around him perish whilst he had no choice but to sit helplessly and watch.

Levi Ackerman was a fool, a fool for thinking he could keep you safe.

He knew it as he held you in his arms and watched you bleed out in the middle of a muddy field littered with corpses.

He knew it as he harshly commanded, with sobs trapped in his throat, “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare fucking leave me, that’s an order.”

With his choked and broken words his thumb delicately swipes across your cheeks, ridding the stray tears and dirt that tainted your skin. It was near impossible to even look at you because to see you wear any expression other than happiness, nevermind the excruciating pain your face was screaming at him, nearly made his own heart stop and his breath cease; for his heart couldn’t help but scold him in agony that this should be him laying here bleeding out, never you.

Yet, he was hopeful - or perhaps delusional - in thinking that the medics would be here soon and they would fix you and make you better. You just needed to wait.

But with a frail voice, you lifted your hand, stained with your tears and blood, to his cheek and rasped a wet, “Promise me that you’ll remember me, Levi. Even in distance, promise me that you’ll remember.”

It was with those words that Levi knew that perhaps life was something you could no longer wait for. It was with those blasphemous pleas that he was disturbed to hear the bitter sound of surrender in your voice, for you, his toughest, bravest, and most determined soldier, were resigning yourself to lose the cruel battle of life and death.

It was then that Levi had decided that if you wouldn’t fight, then he would have to do it for you, like he had been doing for all of humanity for so very long.

So, he pushed down harder on the gaping wound on your abdomen, furiously trying to halt the incessant bleeding, once again staining his hands with the blood of another comrade, “I don’t need to remember you when you will be right beside me, you hear me, brat?”

And he ignored the way you no longer winced at the pressure, ignored the way his heart jumped in panic at your body’s lack of response. Ignored it all for his delirious vision where you would be fine, where you would be ok; chanting in his mind over and over again like a holy mantra that you would be ok, that you would be fine.

You will be ok.

You will be fine.

You will be ok.

You will be fi-

With tender eyes you gazed into his, “I will always… be with you… Levi, in every… dream and in your… heart, but-”

“No, no buts. You will be fine, you hear me? Enough with this mushy crap, the medics are on their way, just hang on a little longer.”

Yet, the words he fiercely uttered were only a reassurance to himself because he could see it in your beautiful, ruined face that you knew you wouldn’t be fine, that he was trying to convince himself of an ending that simply was never meant to be his.

It destroyed him.

And with your very own choked sob, that pushed a crimson curse past your chapped lips, you begged, “Please.. don’t cry, Levi. Though I… have to go, you… shouldn’t cry, please… don’t cry.”

But how could he not cry? How could he look down at you, as you struggled to breathe and gasped in pain, and not cry as you died a death you did not deserve?

What you were asking was unfair, it was so fucking unfair.

Your hand dropped from his cheek, flopping brokenly beside you as you drowsily muttered, “I’m so… tired… Levi, can I… just close my eyes… for a little bit?”

And as you both became stained with the scarlet puddle forming beneath you, he internally screamed profanities and chants of no.

He wouldn’t let you close your eyes for that would be the end, and even though it was so incredibly selfish of him, he decided this isn’t how you would go, not when Levi had plans of growing old with you, of opening that damn tea shop, and maybe even having a brat of your own.

No, you would die peacefully as you slept beside him many years from now, not bleeding out on the battlefield, he wouldn’t let you go like this.

And Levi was never a man to beg but he would easily get down on his hands and knees to grovel for your safety, for you to stay awake and live out the life you had both dreamed of.

Because you had to stay awake, for him.

Please, please don’t leave him alone.

Please.

Yes, Levi was never a man to beg, but for you? For you he pleaded, “No, keep them open, baby, please just keep them open a little longer for me? Let me see your eyes.”

And as he lightly tapped your face your eyes fluttered open, only to break him just a little bit more, because your beautiful eyes were devoid of the warmth he had come to love; for what Levi saw instead was the clasp of death creeping over your eyes as the back of his throat burned at its presence.

And Levi is strong, but who is he to deny the fear he feels when the reaper makes a home in those same eyes he calls his sanctuary? And as the biting hiss of desperation floods its way through his bloodstream, he becomes someone he could not even begin to recognise as he rambles to you in his frenzy because you couldn’t leave him, not now. Please.

So, he talks, franticly talks to keep you with him and talks to remind you of plans you had yet to complete. Talks to know you are still with him, heart beating and alive.

“Remember about how you wanted to go to Sina to buy this new tea you had heard about? You said you were going to buy it so we could both try it together, you can’t cancel on me now, you brat. Plus, I don’t remember what the tea was called, what was it called, love? It is probably something way too fruity for my taste, isn’t it? You hate how bitter my tea can be sometimes, but I love the way you make it, sweet like you. How do you make your tea again? Tell me, y/n.”

Yet, you remained silent with weakening, harsh breaths and as each second passed he saw your spirit fading; and as he witnessed you slowly giving in to the sweet lull of death, what had he left to do now other than pull you closer? For now he was pathetically grasping at your weak body tightly, pulling you further into his chest with trembling hands, as if it would somehow keep you grounded to him, to life, just for a little longer.

“No, no. Keep your eyes open just a little longer, the medics will be here soon. Keep your eyes open an-and I will get you that cat, you remember? The one you spotted on the training ground? We can name it Klaus, no matter what, we can call it Klaus. I lied, you brat, I like the shitty name, just keep your eyes open and I will stay up all day and night trying to catch that stupid fucking cat. Just keep your damn eyes open.”

But Levi was a fool, for death had no time for bargaining and his begging fell on deaf ears as you breathily whispered out your final plea, “Please… remember… Levi…. I love you.”

And his heart cried out with him as he lowered his head and desperately whimpered into your ear, “y/n… please, just stay for a little longer.”

But you were gone, falling limp in his arms as you had gone cold.

Why were you now so cold?

In disbelief, wide eyed, he shakes your still body, vision blurring and his face starting to sting as the salty rivers slowly mix with his open cuts. He shakes you, getting more and more desperate the longer you refuse to reply. He shakes you, shakes you harder and harder until the dam breaks and humanity’s strongest is reduced to nothing but a broken man, a grieving lover.

“No. Don’t you do this to me, you brat. I didn’t say it back, you can’t go until I say it back.”

But your heart had gone silent, no longer singing along to his with a sweet tune, no longer united in your joint serenade.

And what else had Levi to do other than to cry?

Because he had fought, he had killed, and he had remained strong, but where had that gotten him? How well had this facade worked out for him in the end? He had exhausted every possible option to take and now he had no choice left other than to crumble and fall like a bird shot out of the sky.

So he sobbed, grieved for you, screamed for you, let his heart rage at the cruelty of this world when in reality, he had no one else to blame other than himself, for everyone close to Levi Ackerman is doomed to die and he was a fool to think you would be any different.

And with the rest of the remaining scouts now gathered on this bloodied field, a second too late, gaping at his harrowing display of broken grief, he could no longer find it in himself to care for the world around him; not as he held his only semblance of hope dead in his arms; not as his tears fell onto your lifeless face and mixed with your own; not as he gently closed your empty eyes, void of the warmth he had all but memorised, and laid you to rest; not as he slowly came to terms with the fact that he had unknowingly condemned you to such a tragic fate.

For Levi Ackerman had killed you, all for the sake of a happy ending he was never meant to live.

And Levi Ackerman would remember you, for you would be a ghostly reminder of all he was never supposed to have.

A/N: :)

[23:11] meeting fushiguro toji

warnings infidelity

nothing could ever piss you off more than the sight before your eyes.

"y/n, wait i can expla-"

"eat shit, you asshole."

all of your friends had warned you this guy was bad news, yet you stayed with him anyways. for three years. he had treated you so nicely the first year and a half, but then it just began to die down, and texts were half assed, conversations were short-lived, and even the littlest things like kisses felt so lifeless.

you decided to investigate why he was so distant for the past few months, since your fourth year anniversary was coming up, until you'd caught him with an old family friend who he'd sworn to you he would never interact with, since she was so obsessed with him. on several occasions she'd tried breaking the both of you up, causing so many bits and pieces to be put back together to result in your dull state of a relationship.

leaving the premises, you wandered around aimlessly until you'd found yourself at a café you'd planned to go to with him. just the thought of his existence gutted you, and everything you'd walked through constantly reminded you of him, and there was no other way to rid of his lingering presence in your mind.

before you knew it, you'd sat there until closing time, despite telling yourself you'd only stay for a few minutes. it was then the barista had told you to leave, and with a quick apology you left and walked pointlessly again, to who knows where.

there was something appealing about that bench you'd notice in that old park, and decided to sit there too, since you remembered he would still be at your place and wouldn't have packed his things yet, being the lazy shit he was.

"penny for your thoughts?" a bulky, raven haired man had smiled at you innocently, contrary to his large build. he'd worn a tight black shirt, too thin for this kind of weather, alongside a pair of drawstring white sweatpants, that also seemed unsuitable for the ruthless weather.

scoffing, you ignored the man who looked rather old to be honest, and mumbled, "my thoughts are worth tenfold of your paycheck."

he laughs, and it's quite relieving to hear, his voice isn't booming, nor is it loud and threatening. "i guess i don't need the penny for your thoughts then, i don't have a job."

you're flustered now, and red at the cheeks. you lift the back of your palm against the apple of your cheek to feel the heat arise on your face before sighing and ignoring him again. "shut up, old man."

"hey, old is a stretch, i just turned forty." he defends himself as he leans against the tree that loomed over the bench you sat upon, and you noticed how his features seemed more attractive under the moonlight.

stop. don't get distracted by some hot old guy

"that's what every old person says." chuckling, he leans closer to take a look at your face, and you can't help but burn an embarrassing shade of crimson.

"you look like a child. i bet you're the same age as my son." he teases.

what an asswipe.

"well that depends now, how old is your son?"

"fifteen...i think." he's pondering to himself, and looks down at his feet and shakes off the thought before looking back at you like he hadn't just revised his entire life story.

"you think your son is fifteen...?" what a strange man, firstly he has no job and second, has no idea on the age of his own offspring.

"yeah, he had to stay with some," he pauses, "relatives." maybe you should stop prying there, it seemed like a personal topic.

"well, to answer your question, i for a fact, am not fifteen. i'm twenty eight." you swung your feet from the bench in a child like manner.

"huh, would've never believed that. you've got quite a youthful glow. i remember my twenties-" he starts to ramble, and you realise this man is quite nostalgic in a sad sense, so you continue to let him speak.

"for someone who's only forty, you speak like you've got three lifetimes worth of experiences to give advice to someone who's pushing thirty." you intervened, and he bellows out another laugh, more heartfelt, and emotional.

"i've told you many things about myself, but not my name." he gestures to the empty seat beside you, charading if he could sit near you.

with a slight nod, you budge up a few centimetres, "so then, what's your name old man?" you huff, and take a breath of fresh air.

"toji fushiguro." confidence is exuding from his aura and you smile again.

"i prefer calling you old man."

a/n: this is more of a friendship than it is romantic relationship

- possibly might probably maybe make a part two